When it comes to righteous (and generally justified) indignation, few things compare to the annual culture clash over the commercialization of Christmas (this column brought to you be the letter C). You’ve heard the pleas for holiday justice. “Jesus is the reason for the season!” “Put Christ back in Christmas.” “Someone please tell me what wassailing is!” All important points to be sure. But the ensuing Druid takeover of Yuletide (insert your own joke regarding 80s TV show “Riptide” here) notwithstanding, at least the over-commercialization of Christmas has its roots in reflecting actual, Christ-based traditions. The gift of Christ to the world. The gifts of the Magi to the Christ child. The returning of the frankincense to the Bethlehem Target.
Easter, however, is chock-a-block with symbols and traditions that literally have nothing to do with the resurrection of Christ. Things that, frankly, serve only to obfuscate the true meaning of the day. Did the Easter Bunny roll away the stone? Did Mary wear an oversized hat to the sepulcher? Was Christ’s first post-risen meal a spiral-cut ham? No. No. I like to think so.
Of course, the problem is that we aren’t going to rid ourselves of Aretha Franklin-esque headwear or grossly deformed marshmallow chicks any time soon. The Chocolate Triumvirate of Cadbury, Hershey’s and Nestle will see to that. Instead, I propose that we do unto others what said others have been attempting to do unto Christmas for decades – co-opt these secular symbols for our own, super-holy purposes.
Here’s how:
The Easter Bunny – What child doesn’t delight at the very idea of a Shaq-sized rabbit feloniously breaking into their home to deposit goodies that were produced in a factory on equipment that may have had contact with eggs, peanuts, dairy, wheat and Christopher Walken? Even the Jehovah’s Witnesses are down with it (not that I asked). But again, what does a giant cottontail have to do with Christ overcoming death and hell? Not much, in reality. The Easter Bunny is derived from the rabbit’s ancient use as a springtime fertility symbol. And if there’s one thing I don’t really want to discuss with the kiddos at Easter, it’s fertility. Instead, let’s make the Easter Bunny even more like the Jolly Fatman than it already is: The Bunny shall henceforth be a symbol of Christ bestowing symbolic blessings upon the children of the world. Children will learn valuable lessons about Christ’s ultimate gift and how enjoying too many blessings at once can lead to an upset stomach and tooth decay. Win.
Bonnets – The donning by ladies of chapeaus whose diameters measure in excess of thrice their own waistlines extends back to Shakespeare’s time when ladies would wear new clothes at Easter to celebrate the renewing power of Christ’s redemption, and to irritate the people sitting behind them at The Globe Theatre. However, this obtuse, obscure and oh-so-boring reason simply won’t fly in today’s hipster-doofus culture. Henceforth, therefore, the wearing of hats of unusual sizes will be seen as a way of humbling and shielding oneself before the glory of the risen Lord. The traditional Methodist Bonnet Toss remains optional except where prohibited by law (Lincoln, Nebraska).
Ham – The truth is that Grandma is baking ham on Easter because that’s what Grandma makes every Sunday whether we’re celebrating Christ ransoming the lost or not. But in order to placate your plaintive spawn when they ask for mac ’n’ cheese instead of sixteen pounds of pork-and-brown-sugar goodness, simply refer them to Acts Chapter 14. In this passage, as I’m sure all of my readers recall, Peter receives a vision from the Lord revealing that all formerly non-kosher animals are now ripe for the barbecuing. Amen and amen.
Peeps – Peeps are globs of marshmallow formed into the rough semblance of a chick, bunny or other kuddly kritter and coated with sugar that’s been doused with enough food coloring to dye every fake river in every amusement park in America a day-glo yellow, red or blue for the next twenty years. What they are not is chocolate. And are, therefore, the embodiment of all that is evil. If certain insolent tiny humans of your house insist upon the presence of Peeps in their Easter baskets, I suggest you take one out and stomp it with your heel. Then refer the tikes to Genesis 3:15.
Chicks – I have no idea why anyone has ever thought it was a good idea to buy their child a baby chicken as an Easter present. However, if you let the chick mature into tasty adult chickenhood and then drop it in the fryer – representing a truly sacrificial act – I suppose it could be okay. Nah, I take that back. No chicks. Not even for Fonzie.
Wumpus – The Wumpus is a mythical creature created in the late 1970s in one of computerdom’s early games. This geeky beast has no current tie to Easter, other than I may have once played “Hunt the Wumpus” on the family TI-99/4A over Easter weekend in 1980. Nonetheless, just as Santa Claus has the Heat Miser, so should the Easter Bunny have a little-discussed arch nemesis that will one day be featured in a Rakin Bass stop-motion cartoon. Plus, parents can threaten to feed their kids’ candy (or the kids) to the Wumpus. And if you insist on tying him back to Christendom, just call him Beelzewumpus.
And there you have it. If you’re feeling jaunty, try incorporating all of these changes into this year’s Easter festivities. Or, spread them out over the years. Better yet, start a Facebook page entitled “1 Million Strong for the Easter Wumpus.” Don’t let this valuable outreach opportunity pass you by.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a new seersucker suit and a minivan full of cream eggs to procure.
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This column first appeared in the April 2010 edition of Chatter magazine.
Easter, however, is chock-a-block with symbols and traditions that literally have nothing to do with the resurrection of Christ. Things that, frankly, serve only to obfuscate the true meaning of the day. Did the Easter Bunny roll away the stone? Did Mary wear an oversized hat to the sepulcher? Was Christ’s first post-risen meal a spiral-cut ham? No. No. I like to think so.
Of course, the problem is that we aren’t going to rid ourselves of Aretha Franklin-esque headwear or grossly deformed marshmallow chicks any time soon. The Chocolate Triumvirate of Cadbury, Hershey’s and Nestle will see to that. Instead, I propose that we do unto others what said others have been attempting to do unto Christmas for decades – co-opt these secular symbols for our own, super-holy purposes.
Here’s how:
The Easter Bunny – What child doesn’t delight at the very idea of a Shaq-sized rabbit feloniously breaking into their home to deposit goodies that were produced in a factory on equipment that may have had contact with eggs, peanuts, dairy, wheat and Christopher Walken? Even the Jehovah’s Witnesses are down with it (not that I asked). But again, what does a giant cottontail have to do with Christ overcoming death and hell? Not much, in reality. The Easter Bunny is derived from the rabbit’s ancient use as a springtime fertility symbol. And if there’s one thing I don’t really want to discuss with the kiddos at Easter, it’s fertility. Instead, let’s make the Easter Bunny even more like the Jolly Fatman than it already is: The Bunny shall henceforth be a symbol of Christ bestowing symbolic blessings upon the children of the world. Children will learn valuable lessons about Christ’s ultimate gift and how enjoying too many blessings at once can lead to an upset stomach and tooth decay. Win.
Bonnets – The donning by ladies of chapeaus whose diameters measure in excess of thrice their own waistlines extends back to Shakespeare’s time when ladies would wear new clothes at Easter to celebrate the renewing power of Christ’s redemption, and to irritate the people sitting behind them at The Globe Theatre. However, this obtuse, obscure and oh-so-boring reason simply won’t fly in today’s hipster-doofus culture. Henceforth, therefore, the wearing of hats of unusual sizes will be seen as a way of humbling and shielding oneself before the glory of the risen Lord. The traditional Methodist Bonnet Toss remains optional except where prohibited by law (Lincoln, Nebraska).
Ham – The truth is that Grandma is baking ham on Easter because that’s what Grandma makes every Sunday whether we’re celebrating Christ ransoming the lost or not. But in order to placate your plaintive spawn when they ask for mac ’n’ cheese instead of sixteen pounds of pork-and-brown-sugar goodness, simply refer them to Acts Chapter 14. In this passage, as I’m sure all of my readers recall, Peter receives a vision from the Lord revealing that all formerly non-kosher animals are now ripe for the barbecuing. Amen and amen.
Peeps – Peeps are globs of marshmallow formed into the rough semblance of a chick, bunny or other kuddly kritter and coated with sugar that’s been doused with enough food coloring to dye every fake river in every amusement park in America a day-glo yellow, red or blue for the next twenty years. What they are not is chocolate. And are, therefore, the embodiment of all that is evil. If certain insolent tiny humans of your house insist upon the presence of Peeps in their Easter baskets, I suggest you take one out and stomp it with your heel. Then refer the tikes to Genesis 3:15.
Chicks – I have no idea why anyone has ever thought it was a good idea to buy their child a baby chicken as an Easter present. However, if you let the chick mature into tasty adult chickenhood and then drop it in the fryer – representing a truly sacrificial act – I suppose it could be okay. Nah, I take that back. No chicks. Not even for Fonzie.
Wumpus – The Wumpus is a mythical creature created in the late 1970s in one of computerdom’s early games. This geeky beast has no current tie to Easter, other than I may have once played “Hunt the Wumpus” on the family TI-99/4A over Easter weekend in 1980. Nonetheless, just as Santa Claus has the Heat Miser, so should the Easter Bunny have a little-discussed arch nemesis that will one day be featured in a Rakin Bass stop-motion cartoon. Plus, parents can threaten to feed their kids’ candy (or the kids) to the Wumpus. And if you insist on tying him back to Christendom, just call him Beelzewumpus.
And there you have it. If you’re feeling jaunty, try incorporating all of these changes into this year’s Easter festivities. Or, spread them out over the years. Better yet, start a Facebook page entitled “1 Million Strong for the Easter Wumpus.” Don’t let this valuable outreach opportunity pass you by.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a new seersucker suit and a minivan full of cream eggs to procure.
—–
This column first appeared in the April 2010 edition of Chatter magazine.