Monday, April 1, 2013

Thoughts From Easter Morning

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First draft.

I believe I lived before I came to earth. I believe we all did. We lived as a huge, heavenly family. You were my sister, you were my brother. You still are. Things weren't perfect in heaven--there was conflict and complexity. It wasn't the perfect family. But we wanted to achieve something better. So we came to earth to have experience that hopefully would make us more intelligent.

One difference between that life and this life is our bodies. I think we had bodies in heaven, but we didn't have a heart that pumped blood (for instance). When we were created here, on this earth, our bodies started pumping blood for the first time.

Another difference is this: in heaven we lived with our Heavenly Parents. And although things weren't sublimely perfect, we lived in the presence of God. We were loved and coddled by divine beings.

And so I wonder if, sometimes we look at these bodies and think: you body, you are only a reminder that I don't live with God anymore. You are the difference between the life I had and the life I have now. You are the buffer between me and my security. I wonder, if our bodies remind us of abandonment.

We hurt our bodies. We punish our bodies. We dislike and have disinterest for our bodies. We try to radically change our bodies so they look different. So they don't look like abandoned shapes and sizes.

And I guess that's the good news of Easter. First, we weren't abandoned because Christ came for us. And two, these bodies we received when we left our heavenly home are the vehicles that will return us to serenity. Like Christ's body.

In that realm, Easter is a celebration of body as much as spirit. It's the holiday that reminds us of the potential holiness in our veins. It's the season to rejoice in the pumping of blood and the heart that pounds. I think about this as a new Easter tradition: how will I commemorate my body on Easter weekend? A fast? A walk in the park? A moment at sunrise on the shoreline trail?

And for my children, how will I tell them of the joy I felt co-creating their own blood-pumping bodies?

Something tells me: when I honor my own body, they will know.