A Different Kind of Easter Like No Other

This Easter was a very different kind of Easter, like no other Easter in my life. I will admit that for the first time, I struggled to separate my love for Christ and His Church from Religious Nationalism in the USA, from the unconditional support of Donald Trump by white right-winged Republican Christians/Catholics, from understanding how the Church has harmed LGBTQIA+ people and their families,  reading about the history of forced conversion and colonization of Christianity throughout the years, the willful intent of the Catholic Right/Religious Right trying to “purify the nation and the Church” by violent force, and discovering the damage of harmfully applied theology, it has been so hard to reconstruct my faith.

But some how, I am hanging on to Christianity which was not in bed with the Empire. This would have been pre-Constantinian Christianity/Catholicism up through 313 AD which was closest to Christ and His Apostles. As I said previously, before 313 AD, this was a time of REAL Christian persecution where Christianity was illegal and underground mostly, not the Americanized whining of “Persecution” that we see now. The earliest Christians didn’t discriminate who was worthy of God’s love and care from the Church and who they thought “were not.”  They certainly didn’t use their faith to “bulldoze,” and “force others to convert.” They gave to marginalized people unconditionally. They did indeed care for the widows, orphans, the poor, and who Jesus called “The Least of These.”  According to several Church historians, such as John Boswell of Yale, the earliest Christians even took care of minority populations like eunics and sexual minorities. They didn’t cast them out and condemn them for “being differently created in God’s image.” Prior to fifth century, the Doctrine of Hell was not formally established.  Christians in the pre-Constantine era believed in the Jewish afterlife which included a temporary period of refinement, not an everlasting hell.

So how do I reconstruct my faith into one that makes sense to me and only seeks the good of all people, not just some people? In order to do this, I must reconstruct a faith which brings life, joy, and vitality to others and myself  and either discard, ignore, and/or reject components which bring harm and endangerment to people. For example, I was unable to witness a bloody cross this Good Friday for the first time, so I shared a simple one like this. I need soft and soothing iconography, liturgy, and music, not things that incur and intensify trauma.

Today, the Easter celebration with my parents, children, and husband was without family photography for the first time. I just didn’t have it in me to celebrate life I normally do, not because I don’t believe in the power of the Resurrection but due to how the Christian faith in America has been weaponized to harm who Jesus calls, “The Least of These,” the very people whom Jesus came to love, serve, and heal.

I am just not sure how to separate racism, sexism, bigotry, homophobia, and trans genocide from Christ and His Church. I am determined to figure it out. As I have said before, it will continue to be through Catholic Social Teaching, the Gospel, and Social Justice. That’s the only way forward for me.  As the liturgy says, “I Will  with God’s Help.”