Sunday Bunny Sunday…

I awoke to fresh screaming. That’s always fun.

I’m not religious anymore. I’m certainly spiritual and I believe in higher powers and stand in awe of the wonders of the world and show due deferrence and such, but frankly I don’t know or care which god is the true God, I don’t pretend to be smart enough to know that answer, and I’m especially tired of people killing other people over it,

I have my ideology. I have my peer group. I have a code to live by. I’m good, thanks.

That all said, we’re raising the girls in the Lutheran Church – RSW grew up Lootern, and they attend her childhood church for now. I don’t think it’s hypocritical at all – they aren’t old enough to form their own opinions, I have no issue with 96% of Christian doctrine, and a church education provides solid fundamentals for living.

If they want to call bullshit later? That’s fine by me.

I was raised Baptist (specifically American Baptist, because there a difference). My church upbringing was pretty grounded, and I hold a lot of it dear. After several years of academic fuckupitude, I ended up in a Quaker private school for my final three years of high school, and though I may have technically failed Quakerism my senior year, I got the gist of it. I consider my spirituality to be personal, my connection to the higher places to be a singular vehicle. You find God where you look, and no one else can do it for you.

Much more Gnostic than Agnostic. Look it up.

So. All that said, I awoke to 116 dB of Maggie in the bathtub this morning as RSW tried her best to get the spawnlings all dolled up for The Big Day. I got up and helped, got Maggs into her pseudo-satin/lace upholstry (all little-girl Easter dresses turn the wearer into a greased pig – good times) while RSW got Anna into her thing.

I have two beautiful little girls. Yes.

My Mom would shit a Volkswagen if she fully grasped the fact that I’m in bed, online, unshaven, and rather indifferent on Easter morning. This is the Big Day for Christians – if you don’t buy this story then the rest don’t matter. This is the one I’ve never come around to – I believe Jesus was a great teacher and leader of men, and a great living example on earth of what the world needs more of, but most everything documented about the brief time of Jesus on earth after his death doesn’t really wash for me. With only four gospel accounts (out of probably 20+) accepted by the church into the bible, I don’t consider those accounts thorough enough to get a true grasp of what went on in those days, and since it ultimately doesn’t matter to me, I frankly don’t worry myself over it.

I just wish that someone or something in our current time could grasp such power and lead men toward good and peaceful things instead of using God’s name in convenience and war. If we ever a-needed the Lord before, we sure do need him now.

So in the meantime, three days after the day of Jesus’ death, they went to the tomb and found that the grass nearby had been replaced with plastic shreds – the sure mark of the Leporidae . The stone had been rolled away, and in its place chocolate eggs and marshmallow chicks, which caused someone to ponder, “which came first, O Lord?” The body was not there, and they left that place to tell everyone one that the body of the Master had either risen, or been taken by a large bunny rabbit, with evidence leading toward the latter.

And they consumed the eggs, and they were good.