He wasn’t pulling my leg. We both grew up in a vipers’ tangle of Southern Baptist fundamentalism, but obviously he was better at avoiding church than I was. He never had to endure relentless sermons about the wonder-working power in the blood of the Lamb. Unlike a hundred million or so other Americans, he was never taught that the Bible is literal history—word for word—or that Satan buried dinosaur bones to lead us astray. That’s why he called me.
“Easter,” I replied with a weary sigh. But that isn’t exactly true.
Technically, Christians commemorate Christ’s death on Good Friday. His resurrection is celebrated on Easter Sunday. This is the most sacred time of the year for many Christians. If they read their scriptures carefully, there would be nothing more troubling to modern biblical literalists than when and how the Gospels say the crucifixion happened. It is obvious to me that these Christians don’t, and it’s likely they don’t want to know. Maybe they have good reasons. For all I know, you’ll go to hell merely for reading this…
Read the rest at Taki’s Magazine