What this Easter Means to Me

I’m not much of a golf fan so I didn’t read a whole lot on Tiger Woods' miraculous comeback to win the Masters last Sunday, but knowing a thing or two about metaphor I’ll bet more than a couple of writers latched onto resurrection or rebirth as themes to describe what happened. I am, on the other hand, a huge fan of Game of Thrones, where resurrections may not be as ubiquitous as beheadings, but are definitely a thing. Without getting into all the symbolic deaths and rebirths, the one-eyed Beric Dondarrion comes back from the dead often enough to turn it into a parlor trick, and the resurrection of Jon Snow--a savior figure if there ever was one--is the pivotal event in the series.
In the past I’ve blogged about my fondness for resurrection stories, such as in the novel One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and the movie Cool Hand Luke. As a matter of cold, hard historical fact, the resurrection myth predates Jesus Christ. There are variations on the theme in the Western myths of Prometheus and Dionysus, in the Egyptian myth of Osiris, and elsewhere. True believers block out these stories in order to preserve the exceptionalism of their personal savior. Non-believers taunt true believers with these historical details in order to debunk that exceptionalism. They both miss the overriding metaphysical reality that the enduring and pervasive existence of this myth proves that it serves a human need and desire to believe in comebacks…second chances…second comings. We’ve embedded that belief into our cultural DNA, and no amount of scientific or literal deconstruction is likely to expel it.
If there was in fact an Invisible Hand constantly writing this motif into the human story, this past week we might rightly accuse it of being a little heavy handed. Nonetheless…taking last weekend’s resurrection on the golf course and the return of rebirth-laden Game of Thrones to TV, and then adding the mid-week burning of the Notre Dame de Paris with its prized relics from the crown of thorns and cross of Jesus appear as pretty clear signs of how Somebody somewhere thinks we should be viewing the crucifixion of our democracy as we head into Easter weekend.
It may take a da Vinci-sized canvas (or 400-page investigative report), but surely we can compare the election of Donald Trump as much a mortal wound to American democracy as was the blade that cut through Jon Snow. And surely we can read Robert Mueller’s declaration that he could neither indict nor exonerate Trump as an echo of Pontius Pilate’s decision to wash his hands of the entire Jesus matter. And surely Pilate asking the rabble if it wanted to free Jesus or free Barabbas was but a harbinger of Mueller implicitly asking Congress if it wanted to neglect or fulfill its duties.  
The Democrats in Congress have made clear that they’ve been waiting for Mueller to deliver his report before they take necessary action to protect the country. Most probably…and most consistent with the resurrection myth…they were probably waiting for Mueller to do the work for them…to be their savior and hero. But peeled away from its mythic moorings, the story really doesn’t work that way. If I may quote myself, it really goes like this: 

The redeemer knows that he can’t keep doing this forever and alone. Pretty soon the followers must get the message that they have to start redeeming themselves. But that’s about the point where it starts to get uncomfortable for them.  Then they turn on him or idly stand by while he gets sacrificed. This weekend we celebrate the enduring power of the redemption story. We can do so by insisting that it’s a one and done story frozen just so in 2000-year old amber, or we can celebrate it by realizing that we are each the second coming.    

Nancy Pelosi and Jerry Nadler, this means you and your Congressional cohort. If you push this on to the electorate to do your duty for you in the 2020 election, you will have hammered the nails into Lady Liberty's palms yourselves. Impeach Now!