-- Wendell Berry, "What Are People For?"
Greetings, and Happy Easter! I would like to share a couple of not-quite-related thoughts about the resurrection and what it means to me.
* * *
So, last night my wife and I went on a double date to watch "The Hunger Games." I knew nothing of the books; I went in virtually ignorant, except for having been coached by an excellent article in the April issue of Sojourners.
I'm now a fan.
For anyone else who is as unfamiliar as I was, here's a brief outline: At some point in history, the 12 outlying poverty-stricken districts surrounding the capital city of the country of Panem (known simply as the Capitol) attempted to revolt against their government. Their uprising was quashed, and, to ensure that it didn't happen again, the Capitol decreed that each year, each of the districts would send a boy and a girl to compete in a last-man-standing fight to the death. The central character in the story is one of the Games' participants, Katniss Everdeen (played by Louisville native Jennifer Lawrence).
The theme of the injustice of empire is prevalent throughout the film. Even the country's name, Panem, is a reference to panem et circences, or "bread and circuses" -- a term popularized by a first century poet who accused the Roman Empire of offering food to the poor and entertainment to the wealthy as a means of placating its citizens and preventing them from asking tough questions about how the empire operated.
Katniss and her male district counterpart, Peeta (also played a Kentucky native, Josh Hutcherson), are keenly aware of the injustice of the Capitol's practice of offering up human beings -- children, no less -- as sacrifices to the people's thirst for entertainment. The night before the Games are to begin, Peeta says to Katniss, "I just keep wishing I could think of a way to show them that they don't own me. If I'm gonna die, I want to still be me."
That's the line I keep thinking about as I contemplate Easter this morning.
Let's be honest: You don't have to look too hard to find something in our world that will piss you off. In the last month or so, during my Lenten Facebook fast, I have come across probably a dozen stories that make me angry -- from the story of a banker who left a 1 percent tip along with advice that his waitress should "get a real job" to the almost-daily reminders of how screwed up our political system has become (far right, far left, and all points in between).
Still, the empty tomb is a symbol of hope. Hope that life doesn't end with our last breath. Hope that love wins. And hope that the world will not always be as it is now.
The empire does not own us. Eventually -- maybe not in my lifetime, maybe not even in my daughter's -- the empire will crumble. Eventually, the world will again become everything it was meant to be. This is what we ask for every time we pray the Lord's Prayer -- "Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."
As we await the full coming of that kingdom and the death of the empire, we can resolve to take Peeta's words to heart. We can show that the empire does not own us. We can refuse to participate.
We might not change the world, but we can show the world that it will not change us.
* * *
Secondly, some thoughts of a more personal nature.
If you follow my ramblings on Facebook, you might know that I have lost some weight. From New Year's Day 2011 to sometime in mid-March 2012, I shed 100 pounds through smarter eating and exercise.
That was before vacation.
My wife and daughter and I went to Disney World during spring break -- a first for all of us. We had a great time -- it was an incredible privilege to see my daughter enjoy herself so thoroughly.
Our vacation package included the Disney Dining Plan, which provides one fast-food-style meal, one snack, and one sit-down-restaurant-style meal per day, per person.
The food was out of this world. Thus, I came back a few pounds shy of that 100-pound mark again.
This has been a little disappointing for me. The past week and a half has marked the most significant "backsliding" episode I've had in my quest to get healthy.
With Easter and its food and candy looming, I made the decision to eat what I wanted through this weekend, with a commitment to get back on track Monday morning.
I wrote above about the way Easter reminds us that the world can be different. But I'm also keeping in mind that the resurrection has implications for our individual lives.
Whatever we struggle with -- whatever our hang-ups, our weaknesses, our addictions -- they don't have to define us. Just as death isn't the end, so our failures don't have the last word.
Every morning when your alarm clock goes off and you roll out of bed, you have a blank page. What you did yesterday -- if you soared, if you crashed and burned -- is, in many ways, irrelevant. Today's a new day.
In Luke's telling of the resurrection story, a group of women discovered Christ's tomb was empty. They were met by a man (or angel) who asked them, "Why do you seek the living among the dead?"
It's a much more profound question than it initially appears.
The unspoken implication is this: Yesterday, Jesus was dead. Yesterday, this is where you would have found him. But today, he is not dead. Today, he is alive. You no longer need to look for him here.
This is the hope we have. Yesterday, you screwed up. Yesterday, I ate too much. Yesterday, you let your guard down and paid a hefty price.
But that was yesterday. Today, we're not the same.
May we make the most of new beginnings. May the power that raised Christ from the dead do the same for us, even now.
