They really ought to offer a class on the history of holidays. I for one would take it, primarily because it'd probably be an easy and interesting distributive requirement, but I'd also love to know just exactly where we get some of these themes
Apparently Christianity takes the cake in terms of having unrelated icons and stories associated with important religious events. Frankly, I don't know if Team Trinity is the varsity leader or just the team I've watched the most, but it's certainly easy to pick up examples
Take Easter. Timely enough. I NROed Bible History back when I was still attending church, but I seem to remember it having something to do with the resurrection of Jesus after his crucifixion. Definitely miraculous, awe-inspiring. Worthy of the son of a deity. We can debate the symbolism, the possible perturbations or exaggerations of the tale with time and telling, but it makes sense that it is celebrated by those who believe in it. Fine.
Enter the Easter Bunny. A grossly oversized lagomorph with a sweet tooth and a penchant for sharing, he (despite obvious and valid evidence to the contrary, the Bunny's always seemed male to me) sneaks into the rooms of sleeping children and leaves, as a token of his coming, small baskets of candies or toys. At least that's the story. I mean, really, it almost sounds perverted. A giant rodent (are they rodents, rabbits?), or if not rodent a giant small mammal, sneaking in to observe small children -- and they have to be asleep, mind you -- leaving cryptic and inconclusive evidence (bunny-shaped chocolate, fake grass, tinsel, etc.) of his presence. I don't like it.
And let us not forget the eggs. Both fake and real, in a spectrum of colors not normally associated with anything between infrared and ultraviolet, hours are spent painting them, filling them with treats or sucking out the yolk and bacteria so they don't rot and stink. And then they are hidden, often by the same people who made the damn things. Hidden so little children can run around and find them, experience the triumph of the discovery of a treasure, fight over salvation rights of said treasure and then cry. I forget, to be honest, if the rabbit is supposed to be laying them as he visits the sleeping children, but I hope not. Rabbits don't even lay eggs, so it's a whole separate kettle of fish to deal with. Neither aspect lends itself well to immediate association with raising the dead.
I think it's clear that, at some point, this holiday moved beyond simple metaphoric extension of the stories and lessons it hoped to embody.
So where'd they come from? Who was the guy who thought bunnies and tattooed chicken embryos would forever remind the faithful of the miraculous resurrection and rebirth of the supposed son of God? I don't know. I don't want to meet him either.
Imagine a conversation, years from now, between a religious historian and an aspiring anthropologist from another planet.
"Let me get this straight, the central icon of this religion was killed by an oppressive regime, but returned from martyrdom a few days later?"
"Right."
"So everyone must have gone into seclusion for awhile and then had a picnic or something."
"Actually they painted eggs and lied about a huge rabbit that gave out chocolates."
The contrast between this and more ancient religions is, in some ways, startling. Plenty of ancient cultures cowered beneath the watchful and vengeful gaze of anthropomorphic gods, whose appetites and angers were assuaged and appeased with offerings of tasty food, scented smokes and nubile virgins. Brutal, yes. Simplistic, maybe. But the logic is undeniable.
Despite my curiosity and confusion, I suppose there is nothing inherently wrong with the two-faced nature of some of these holidays, in that clearly the central message hasn't been lost in the rise of newer, more secular icons. And don't get me wrong -- I have no major bone to pick with these holidays or the religions they represent. I just think it's funny to consider what we do to honor what we respect and believe. In some cases, I guess, it's important to make it marketable.
And there, no doubt, is the critical term -- marketable. The risen dead, no matter how benevolent in life, are a hard sell to a large audience, especially the young crowd. The Easter Bunny is a much cuddlier image, favored no doubt by all the myriad companies that crank out his likeness every April. I guess also it'd seem a little weird to gnaw on a chocolate crucifix.
Anyway, it's food for thought between now and when the Santas go up in store windows
