Of Resurrection and Reality

Resurrection is quintessential mythology. Yes, mythology. For some unfathomable reason in our culture we have lost the true meaning of “myth.” In our culture we think the word myth means a false story, but such a definition couldn’t be further from the truth. Myths are stories wrought in the collective human imagination that teach us who we are as humans; who we are in relationship with the eternal; where we fit in as to the mystery of the created order. Myths bear witness to the one story that bears the truth of the universe, and that truth by nature lives in mystery. It is through the imagination alone that we may apprehend such mystery; the imagination which Coleridge equated with the Holy Spirit. That is why the Bible is filled with fantastic stories, stories that quicken the imagination:… stories of the all-consuming flood, of people hundreds of years old, of the parting of the sea; of being swallowed by a giant fish; of firestorms from heaven; of the sun standing still; of water into wine; of multiplying loaves and fish; of the dead being raised to life. Are these stories true? You bet they are. They are truer than we know.

To impart such profound truth the language must be that of the fantastic; language that soars with imaginative authority… It must be the language of myth because the language of myth is the deep grammar of human existence, the only language capable of getting at the mystery of what it means to be human in the presence of God, language that rings sonorous and true. Common language fails us. Only the imaginative language of myth will do. For the human species it is necessary to speak of what we know. Our souls need reminding. That is what art does. That is what liturgy is for in the church: to speak of the truth of God and humankind in the deep grammar of myth…. sonorous… true… beautiful…. The imagination can’t resist.

The church, however, has not served us well in this regard over the centuries. Instead of mystery and the affirmation of the imaginative and speculative language of story contained in scripture, the church has insisted on dogma, an all-said-and-done doctrine.  But there is nothing said and done about the life of faith. The biblical stories we hold dear still invite discovery and new knowledge and new insight. They are still told, still speaking creation into being. Surely God is still revealing Godself. There is still more to know, more mystery to be found and experienced. Such is the deep grammar of myth.

So we approach the central feast of the Christian Church, the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. Is it true? Did it really happen? To get caught up into whether the resurrection happened literally or not, quite misses the point. In treating it thus we risk leaving the story behind as a fairy tale or worse, a sentimental platitude; a once upon a time occurrence. Ironically, we run the risk of missing the profound truth that the ancient scribes are trying to tell us. They are using the vaulted language of myth, so we best pay attention, because myth speaks beyond history. Myth speaks of present reality, an eternal present that remembers the past and anticipates the future.

The story of the death and resurrection of the Christ is the story of who we are. It is our story, a story of mythic proportions with God and humankind as protagonists. It teaches us that death is not the last word in God’s alchemy. But it is not, at least as I read scripture, about our physical deaths. It is about dealing with, as T.S. Eliot puts it, death in life, death in its myriad manifestations: despair, loneliness, loss, grief, depression, anxiety; and on a societal scale: shame, indignity and violence. Resurrection is a present reality. It is a way of life, a practice, that transforms our world. It comes amid the realm of death as the green shoots of spring on barren ground; as wind, as fire. It comes on the wings of hope and the sure and certain awareness that life comes anew, even when all is lost… life, love, courage, energy for the way ahead. The world is forever rising from the dead and we in it. That is a truth that the early Christian communities experienced and lived to tell about it. It is a truth that we know and we have known. It is a truth so profound that only our finest grammar can touch the essence of it. Trust the language of myth, our epic story, and live wholeheartedly in it… because it is true, true indeed.