Ruminating this week on aspects of the biblical story: the first Easter. I’m always brought back to this feeling—the collapse of the whole world. How it must’ve felt for followers of Christ. A very public humiliating grotesque crucifixion, utter defeat, betrayal and broken promises. Probably how a millennial feminist must feel in post-election America right now. Pretty let down, much like giving up, wanting to turn your back.
I’m no millennial, but the day after Trump was elected I couldn’t figure out how I was going to go on. Where was my place in a country that had elected the antithesis of Obama? And, as the days went on, and videos of people scourging Mexicans, Arabs, and the perceived “other” played out, I became more and more convinced that I was in the midst of an apocalypse.
The first Easter is a story of losing hope and tenuously proceeding when we cannot see around the next corner. Miracle was even too big a word. Yet there it was unfolding.
As a kid I always wanted to believe I would not have been part of the rabble demanding the release of Barabbas. But since learning that 82% of those who identify as evangelical Christians (white folks) I’m sure they would have thought the same thing—that they wouldn’t be in the camp voting for an ambivalent reality TV star who publicly acknowledged wanting to fuck a married woman and grab her by the pussy. Because he can. You can’t count on people to do the right thing. History seems to demand a sacrifice.
The sacrifice this time: democracy. Allowing our election process to be hijacked by outsiders. The Republicans pushing forward a supreme court nominee with less than a majority vote. The legislative dismissal of climate change, environmental protections, women’s reproductive rights, and transgendered rights.
In the midst of what I perceive as a collapse, I want to keep in mind that there has always been dark ages, cataclysmic holocausts, mankind receding—before resurrection, the green leaf budding, seeds pushing up from the earth.
But it might mean being available to rush to the tomb with a basket of spices and withstanding further disappointment when the grave is empty. But wait! Hold on! Don’t give up!