Why Easter is Tough for Me
[Note: this is a difficult and heavy post. If you are enjoying your Easter, please don’t read until tomorrow. Happy Easter everyone!]
Today I woke up and was pretty happy. The birds were churping, we have a full house between my roommates and their parents coming to visit, I just finished a massive requirement for a project yesterday that consumed roughly 115-120 hours in the last two weeks, and I’m just excited to be alive.
While for the most part I have moved on from the religious ‘discussion’ (and have not posted here in a while) I found myself this morning anxious, apprehensive, and conflicted. Religious holidays tend to do this to me now – although it is getting better.
I’m in Chicago – miles away from the friends and family that I grew up with and I miss them. I miss the Easter dinners, the good times we had, and the sunshine and kickball. But I don’t miss Jesus, I don’t miss church, and I don’t miss the beliefs that I once cherished.
Since leaving, I have come to realize that the beliefs of fundamentalist Christians are sadistic. The other day it occurred to me once again that they believe that I am a wretched sinner in need of Jesus and unless I accept Him I am going to hell. They praise the person who created this hell and then blame me wholly for going there. My confession on this Easter is that I don’t know how to emotionally and mentally deal with being friend with people who believe this. I’ve never known how to mentally grasp the concept of an eternity in hell. And yet to the fundamentalist Christian all the joy of Easter rests solely on their being delivered from that awful invented place.
As Laura mentioned on my blog, it is truly a catch-22. In order for me to feel loved and accepted, they must give up the very belief that gives Easter any meaning to them. Their happiness is founded on a principle which makes me an outcast.
I peruse Facebook profiles, littered with references to Jesus, Scripture quotes, and more. I want to say hi – to e-wave my friends – but feel that even the kindest jestures will fall on hearts that are against my very core. I cannot comment on the most important thing in their lives. What kind of friendship can be born from this?
And so, once again, I grow a stronger near hatred toward the Christian religion. It tears apart… it shreds… it annihilates opposition. It treats as outcasts those who question. It provides a means for the Christian to get a fix. It is like alcohol. The alcoholic thinks that by drinking he eliminates his problems, when he creates more problems by drinking. The Christian goes to Jesus to get their problems solved and then Jesus tells them that they can solve their problems by eliminating other influences. But by eliminating those other influences, the Christian creates more problems for themselves and those around them – those like us, who are now considered inferior and weak and depraved.
So I confess that Easter is not happy for me. I am happy, but Easter is tough. Tougher than I would have anticipated. I’m fighting to urge to either break down emotionally or to become cynical… I’m not quite sure which it will be.
I’ll probably call my parents later, and I’m thankful that they will not try to convert me. But then again, I feel that if they really do believe what they do and they really loved me, they should at least try. I haven’t heard from them at all in quite a while.
My roommate’s mom walked in this morning and asked if I was celebrating Easter. I almost replied “celebrating what?”
For me, there is nothing to celebrate on Easter except that I have been delivered from the very beliefs that give Easter any significant meaning.
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