Easter, I always thought, and that’s how I learned it, is the feast of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Messiah, who came to earth to redeem people. So much for Christian teaching. That is why people flock together on the Day of Resurrection to praise the one who has overcome death, the last lamb that has been slaughtered. They sit there in awe, listening devoutly to the words of the priest who praises this victim and glorifies it. The church is dumb and humble, the preacher verbose, but while this final conquest of death is celebrated and marveled at, the good news is heard with a frozen expression, even the house of God, as it is so euphemistically called, is full of death than it is it is customary to bring our fellow creatures to this resurrection mass in dead form. There they stand in front of the altar, to which women have no access, the baskets with the bodies of the dead, neatly chopped into pieces and arranged. But not only that the priest doesn’t hunt them to hell with the murder victims, no, it is also blessed. In summary, while celebrating the resurrection and rejoicing that no more sacrifice is necessary, millions of victims are offered. God’s creation is buried while Jesus leaves it. An obvious contradiction that is not seen.
Life is celebrated at Easter, that’s the official name. We should be happy about life. But if you find a lot in the Christian churches, joy of life is certainly not one of them. You can’t even afford to smile. Everything is too serious for that. Everything seems ossified, petrified and old, impregnated with tradition and impenetrable for many. Well, as a simple believer you shouldn’t see through anything, you just have to believe it and submit. And this submission applies not only to people in their zest for life, but also to women among men, the non-believers among the believers and our non-human fellow creatures among men. A hierarchy of death has been built and glorified in every single service. Thereby – and this can be seen in Paul – not only is the same overcome with Jesus‘ death, but also every hierarchy. He freed us, also from the chains of oppression that captivate both the oppressor and the oppressed. He thus leads us to a comprehensive responsibility for creation, while the Church wallows in turbo-capitalism without batting an eyelid, as the rainforests are destroyed and billions of living beings are cruelly mistreated and abused, every single day of the year, but at Easter, there it is also celebrated publicly. Instead of guaranteeing that the lamb stays with his mom, it is slaughtered, the pig, almost a baby, is processed into ham and the eggs are taken from the exploited chickens. It does not happen secretly, but openly and the blessing makes the murder holy. The weapons and death are blessed. So the festival of life becomes one of death, a murder festival, a glorified performance of necrophilia.
Every year I hope that the Church will finally acknowledge that it will protect life, as Jesus asked, in whatever form it may show, and every year I am disappointed anew. There is nothing left to hope for, because on the day of Jesus‘ resurrection, those who call themselves Christians turn away from him, act in contravention of his mission and turn joy and life into ossification and death, in which the murder is celebrated. Easter is a murder festival.
I don’t expect anything anymore. No salvation for the oppressed, no commitment for the suffering, no advocacy for the disenfranchised. Even if Jesus had done it. Jesus did it, but what does the church have to do with Jesus except as a crucifix on the wall. But you don’t want to have to do with his message. Taking them seriously would shake a church’s complacency and force it to rethink. But we like to leave everything as it is and continue to celebrate death, even on the day of the resurrection.