I stopped attending church years ago. I'll pause for the collective sharp intake of breath and prayer. It really had little to do with my belief in a higher power, but more to do with having absolutely nothing to wear.
I was reared in the Catholic church and attended Catholic school for all of my formative years. This explains a lot of my formation. I have a tendency to throw "Jesus, Mary and Joseph" into conversation and immediately feel guilty when I see a nun.
When I was 8 years old, I screamed "Doo Doo" in front of a woman who turned out to be an undercover nun, while sitting in my grandmother's car as a small child on the way to church. The nun wasn't wearing a habit. They shouldn't be allowed to sneak up on you like that. I still berate myself for not realizing. My little Italian Roman Catholic grandmother loved nuns.
Once I realized she was one of God's special people, I wished with all of my 8-year-old's heart to take back the "Doo Doo," as if it had never happened. But, as people know, Doo Doo does happen.
I will admit she giggled when the little 8-year-old girl screamed the word and stomped her foot. This made me understand there is a special place in every human's heart for small children with colorful vocabularies and a deep sense of injustice at being forced to sit on the hump in the backseat of the car. Even nuns.
I was thinking about that story this week because the incident occurred on the way to one of the first Easter Egg Hunts I attended. It was at my grandmother's church, in a field beside the sanctuary.
I can't remember what scratchy lace dress and tights I wore to Mass that day, but I can tell you the eggs were plastic and full of quarters. I remember thinking that this was truly what Easter was all about. Eggs full of money, right? Because Jesus surely had eggs full of money on his person at all times. This explained a lot to my 8-year-old mind about his popularity.
It wasn't until years later, when I actually read the history of Easter, that I understood eggs didn't have anything to do with Jesus, other than their loose pagan association with "rebirth."
Eggs are something that factor heavily into almost all religions in the civilized world. Passover? Eggs. Easter? Eggs. Spring Equinox? Eggs. They're everywhere. I'm not sure if they are plastic and bursting full of money, but they are abundant in most "cultures" celebrations of spring.
For some reason, this makes me feel warm and fuzzy. I guess it is the connection eggs provide among seemingly dissonant thought systems, thought systems that sometimes go to war.
It seems that there are fundamental truths to this whole "religion" thing, and one of them is eggs. Because, hell, if we can have something as silly as eggs in common, what other things are floating around out there that connect us to one another?
Stories of a virgin birth? Check. Messiahs? Check. Messiahs dying and then raising from the dead? Check. Essentially, all major religions have all the important pieces in place. This means we aren't truly that far away from one another on any given day.
Isn't it funny that most of these messiahs shared this same message whenever in history they appeared. Hmm. Imagine that?
A fundamental story of a man that comes to Earth bearing a message of hope and love. A fundamental story of a man being persecuted for these beliefs and dying for them. A fundamental story of rebirth and being clean once again in the spring. I guess I simply choose to believe that this whole "religion" thing should be more about bringing us together than separating us into different sections.
I essentially stopped attending church because I discovered one day that I thought almost everyone was right in some way, or at least as much as humans worshiping a deity based solely on faith and hope can be right.
My mother teases me with "come to Jesus meetings" occasionally. After all, this is the South, and we do love our churches. But overall, she let's me find my own way. I think that's the best example I've ever been given. Being allowed to choose my own path is a wonderful right to enjoy.
We should all be afforded the right to find our own path. Our own beliefs. Our own eggs. Whether those eggs be Passover eggs, Easter eggs, or eggs bursting with naked dancing under the spring moon. They are all essentially a celebration of life.
Don't get me wrong, I can totally get into eggs full of money, but I'm pretty sure that's not the only thing going on here. I believe it's a testament to human beings' nature to take a story of a man who died for his beliefs, a man who died because he was counter to the cultural norm, and use it as an excuse to force people to conform one certain idea of life and love.
Maybe everyone is just a little "right." And if everyone is just a little right, maybe the eggs are just eggs, and they aren't really Easter eggs or Passover eggs or rites of spring eggs. Just eggs.
But rest assured, when "Doo Doo" happens, I will be on my knees rooting for the eggs full of money with the best of them.
After all, you don't want to put all your eggs in one basket.
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