As a girl, the story of Jesus' crucifixion really bothered me. The brutal torture and killing of a nonviolent man was too much for me, especially if there were illustrations of the crucifixion in the Sunday school book. His disappearance from the tomb was unsettling too, even though in church we were told his disappearance was a happy ending. I spent countless Sundays hearing the resurrection story and at some point I stopped feeling creeped out by it and even became comforted by this narrative structure. Give me a character pushed to her limit, forced to redeem herself, and I’m happy. Give me a celebrity who falls from grace then reinvents himself and I’m reading the tabloid story online.
Then there is Martin Luther King, Jr. Yesterday, was the 42nd anniversary of his assassination. King’s story, his vilification while living and our reading of his life as a sacrifice for our community, is eerie in its parallels with the story of Christ. Last week, PBS had two shows that focused on King that are worth catching if you missed them. One was a documentary with Tavis Smiley, and the other was Bill Moyer’s show last Friday.
And finally, dominoes. After Easter dinner at my uncle’s house, our family sat down to play the game. There was a lot of trash-talking as usual, but the best line came from the winner who’d been losing during the early rounds. “And because its Resurrection Sunday!” he said, slapping his bone on the table.
