Recently at a local brewery, a friend and I were discussing the Enneagram. I’ve known bits and pieces about it for a while now, but I knew nothing about its history, so I asked him long it’s been around.He said there are claims that it reaches back to the early centuries of the common era, but it’s debatable how true that is.
Finally, he said he could really care less because he finds value in it. And if he finds it valuable or helpful, who cares whether the historical claims are true or not.
Sipping my stout, I nodded. “Kind of like the Bible.”
A brief moment of silence before he responded. “Exactly.”
We both smiled.
This got me thinking about the irony of how Easter Sunday falls on April Fools’ Day this year.
I spent most of my life as a Bible literalist and the thought that Jesus didn’t actually walk out of the tomb was equal parts terrifying, preposterous, and blasphemous.
Because if Jesus didn’t walk out of the tomb, what would we be left with?
A difficult question to answer in the circles I spent many years in.
I once heard a well-known theologian or Bible scholar or someone – I wish I remembered who it was – say that a literal reading of the scriptures is the most surface way to read the Bible.
And then there’s mythologist Joseph Campbell, who spent his share of time treading in the waters of comparative religion. His thoughts can offer an interesting perspective if we’re willing to apply them to scripture. They might also remove some of the fear that a statement like the one above might induce.
In The Power of Myth, Campbell said “Mythology is not a lie, mythology is poetry, it is metaphorical. It has been well-said that mythology is the penultimate truth – penultimate because the ultimate cannot be put into words. It is beyond words… Mythology pitches the mind beyond that rim, to what can be known but not told.”
These days, when I consider what we’re left with if Jesus didn’t actually walk out of the tomb in the literal sense, I’d say we’re left with a powerful metaphor in a story that we can actually all relate to at some point in our lives.
Because eventually, we all find ourselves in a situation we never thought we’d be in, or having to face circumstances we wouldn’t have chosen or realities that we’ve tried to ignore.
Sometimes life begins to crumble around us. Something happens and we realize that things are changing, or maybe they have changed, and there’s not a thing we can do to stop it.
And when this happens, it’s horrific. Sometimes even paralyzing. And we can wonder how the hell we’re going to survive.
And this is where I think Campbell’s “penultimate truth” can be found relative to the empty tomb.
Because when it comes to Jesus’ death and resurrection, I don’t need a story that only has meaning if a man actually died and came back to life. Especially if the meaning of the story is wrapped in atonement theology and the payoff is largely limited to getting to spend eternity in paradise after we die.
As a “literal” story, that’s not helpful for me. Maybe it was helpful as a twenty-something, but it’s not anymore. And I’d venture to say that lots of other people would say the same thing if it was safe to actually admit it out loud.
No, as someone in the middle of a very difficult season of life that sometimes has me wondering if I’m going to make it, I need a story with deeply symbolic messages of hope.
I need a story that says the worst scenario imaginable ultimately has an unbelievably good outcome, but…
It’s on the other side of a tortuous experience.
On the other side of a long, difficult road that must be traveled.
On the other side of excruciating pain.
On the other side of having comforts and securities ripped away.
On the other side of feeling alone and maybe even completely abandoned.
On the other side of something needing to die – metaphorically, of course.
Maybe there really is an April Fools’ element and the joke’s on us for clutching with white knuckles to an interpretation of a story that’s meant to be so much more than what centuries of evolving theology and the post-modern need for biblical literalism have reduced it to.
The story I need? I think it’s exactly what we have with the Easter story, which encompasses the most difficult scenario that any of us could possibly face. And it says there’s hope. There’s a fantastic outcome.
On the other side of pain and discomfort and darkness – on the other side of whatever looks and feels like it may very well kill us – there’s life.
That’s the story I need.
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