My Easter Story

 

The Cross In Acworth, GA

Easter originally signified the beginning of spring—the dawn of, and the opening scene of, the next period. It also means Passover and celebrates that event as well. It corresponds with April, which means: to open.
We celebrate the resurrection of Christ on Easter Sunday for very good reasons. We are told that the death of Christ took place during the Passover, which commemorates the liberation of God’s people.
For me, the applicability of this story is far more important than etymological accuracy or how it points to a historical event.
If you consider the story of Jesus as a purely historical drama, you will eventually find the data impossible to gather. I believe it can have more of an effect on our souls for this very reason.
Regarding the birth of Christ, we are told that there was no earthly father—that this savior does not come into being the way people normally do, but from above. He had no children; therefore, his historical line cannot be traced. No physical body was preserved, so the historicity of his flesh and bone cannot be studied. The eyewitness accounts of his life offer no artifacts for anyone to consider today.
Still, I believe it is more than plausible that Jesus Christ was a historical figure.
For me, therefore, the story of Christ is even more wonderful and lovely as a myth—which is not a lie, but a parabolic metaphor.
If we consider the parables Jesus Himself used to explain the Kingdom of Heaven, it does not seem like much of a stretch to imagine Jesus as a physical figure representing our spiritual Christ.
I also want to point out that the metaphoric study of Christ in no way eliminates, reduces, erases, or destroys any historical event. An absolute truth can be a myth as well.
A perfect example of a story that could be true—but is no more impactful as a result—would be The Prodigal Son, as told by Jesus Himself. In the King James Bible, He begins the story with the following words:
“A certain man had two sons…”
In most pulpits today, this story is told as a metaphor, even though the story is about a “certain” or “specific” person.
What does the word parable literally mean? If you research it all the way to its origins, it is a Greek term meaning: a juxtaposition used to shine a light—or—a story about one thing which explains another.
For these reasons, I choose to think of The Story of Christ as mythical first—and likely historical too. However, the meaning of the story affects me more than its historicity. I think Lewis and Tolkien would agree. They both used the magic of myth to shine a beautiful light on the same Story.
Would anyone suggest that we go looking for the actual Prodigal Son? Should we try to find support for that story? Do we need to know where the fields were? Do we need to know who he was working for when “he came to himself”?
I can only answer for myself:
“I am the prodigal son. I came to myself while trying to find my own place in this world. I realized my Father had everything I would ever need—if only I could find my way back to Him.”
Does it seem blasphemous to consider it this way? Do I take anything away from a potentially real individual who lived a long time ago? I am not trying to replace the original son by putting myself in his shoes; I am just trying to apply his story to my own life story—and it works very well.
With this in mind, I am not trying to take Christ from Jesus when I consider how crucial it is for me to look within myself to find Christ in me.
When I think of Christ in me, and when I think of Easter and how it signifies the resurrection of Christ, I feel joy in my soul as a result.
The story has even more significance for me because of the way in which my own life was marked by a particular Holy Week, which took place during this exact period in 1992.

A Vignette of my Holy Week

On Spy Wednesday, in 1992, I discovered a betrayal that would forever change the course of my life. The pain of that day was the worst pain I have ever endured.
On Good Friday that same week, I went to a park and prayed beneath a cross that still stands to this day.
On Easter Sunday, I was sitting in church when, as the sun reached its highest point—exactly 12:00 PM—the front doors of the church opened and slammed shut on their own.
I knew I had just entered a new phase of my life story.

My own story does not take the place of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, but it represents the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ in me.

My Easter story is just another myth now. However, it still signifies Christ in me and how this day should be a celebration of spring in my life—how April means to open and commemorates my liberation from the past.
It is always good to remember our own resurrection—where we may begin again, with Christ within—using our own, wonderful, human imagination to create again