Isenheim Altarpiece: The Resurrection by Matth...

Isenheim Altarpiece: The Resurrection by Matthias Grünewald, completed 1515 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Easter came and went this year without me writing about it; not a word toward the celebratory aspects (religious and secular), not a peep about the history behind it (pagan and Christian).  Truth be told, Easter confuses me. According to Wikipedia (not exactly the be-all/end-all of accurate information, I’m aware) Easter is what’s called a moveable feast, meaning that it’s “not fixed in relation to the civil calendar.”  Depending upon whether you observe the Julian or Gregorian calendar, Easter can fall anywhere between March 22 – April 25 (Julian) or April 3 – May 8 (Gregorian).  Maybe my ignorance is showing in admitting this, but while I sort-of understand the disparity between calendars, I’m not sure I understand why it affects Easter and not, say, Christmas.  That’s not a floater holiday in the Christian calendar.  I mean we all know that Jesus wasn’t really born on December 25, but it’s the date that’s been chosen to stand for that event.  So I don’t understand why Easter bops around like the freaking Bunny.   If you’re a Christian, the death of Jesus and his subsequent resurrection is of major significance.  So why is it left to vacillate across two months?

Not that it matters to me; I’m just curious.  I have what a lot of people would undoubtedly think of as an “airy-fairy” view toward religion.  I don’t subscribe to a standard religion with codified rituals not because I don’t like them or feel they have their place, but because that sort of worship has always gotten in the way of my communion with, well, pick your term — God, Great Spirit, The Lady.  I find most religion limiting to my larger view of the creative energy that sparked this universe into being.  Call it religion, call it science – either way it’s hard to deny the existence of a powerful bit of something that put all of this in motion.  To limit it by giving it a name, by calling it Her or Him or Them, might help break it down into comfortable sound bits, but it limits our ability to feel true, enormous awe in the presence of the magnificence of our singular world.  Looking for a miracle?  Take a look around.


About Melissa Crandall

Longer ago than I care to admit--although I will--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and media tie-in novels. Since then, I've moved on to narrative nonfiction, speculative fiction, and essays. I write to explore and understand the world around me, the things I see and experience nearby or from a distance. If I shake myself up, cool. If I shake you up, even better. Not gratuitously--what's the point in that?--but to set what I know, or think I know, on end and realize, "Well, doesn't it look different from this side!" My work is neither sexually explicit nor graphically violent. Let's face it - your imaginations will come up with things far worse than anything I could write, no matter how descriptive. Besides, it's just not my thing. I live in Connecticut with my supportive husband Ed, a cat named Ruby who might just think she's a dog, and an epileptic Australian shepherd named Holly who isn't quite certain anymore who she is, except she knows she loves her mommy.
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