| Easter, signifying re-birth, is an exclusive holiday of the protestant faith. Although it too is a leftover from medieval celebrations of Earth’s cycles, it has become a holiday of conflict rather than joy in today’s world. Major religions have long clashed over the implications of the Easter story, and preposterous as it seems, lives, fortunes, and entire cultures have vanished in the yet-to-be settled holy conclusion.
Immortality, or the illusion of living forever, seems to have an order of its own although congregants rarely hear tell of the how’s and why’s. Rather, we hear fragmented versions and interpretations that seem to guarantee life beyond real life although there’s little connection to reason, accountability, or knowledge of the cosmos involved in the aging translations. Mostly we just believe, hope, and pray as we attempt to be good (or bad) enough to be considered for entry into the journey’s two final destinations to who actually knows where.
Does it not stand to reason that the order of “becoming” in Universe is many processes of energy transforming into mass and then returning to energy forms? We’re intelligent enough beings to witness, measure, record, and manipulate what we know, but we’ve yet to discover Cause. And without Cause, well…that leaves us to have created our Universe. Surely not, if one is observant of human behavior and gullibility.
Yet eons of curious people have led to the discovery that every atom arrived here through some form of cosmic birth, death, resurrection, recycling, or reincarnation. Many atoms subsequently combined to produce people and things we can recognize—but only for a fleeting moment in the grander scheme of universal time and space. When that energy is used up or usurped, it becomes once again an element of creation material, and enters the dance of constant cosmic change.
Humans are but recycled stardust, as scientists now can prove. Their theory of cosmic recycling seems much more plausible, indeed perhaps more divinely intelligent, than the religious fables we rarely pause to question but profess to be more than willing to kill or die for.
Perhaps the early Christian church resurrected Jesus a little too soon. Had they waited until now when his return is again supposedly imminent, the event would likely even bring renowned scientists to their knees in awe, given what they now know about Universe. Or perhaps Jesus would’ve been more of a hero to more people by flinging himself from the cross, subduing his captors with a wave of a holy hand, and proclaiming his intention to never, ever die. In any case, the “what ifs” and “how coulds” provide stimulating conversation for those well-versed in unending debate.
Fortunately, Biblical text is easily interpreted to swing either way on the question of reincarnation, although the word itself is improper. Carnal implies of the flesh; incarnate means made manifest or embodied in the flesh—so it is not surprising that re-in-carnation had to be poo-pooed by religious leaders. Unless of course you reincarnate as God in human form, as the popes and other dementeds have claimed. But isn’t there something inherently selfish and un-god-like in hoping for immortality when we use it as proof that we’re more special in some benign way than another? And besides, one cannot reincarnate without being birthed, dying, resurrecting, and recycling. How can one kill another and expect the privilege of eternal life? Must we always bargain for more than we’re given? Shouldn’t we celebrate death as a continuance through recyclization?
Perhaps living beyond death is wishful thinking, and most certainly humans are the only creatures we know with any apparent concern about such matters. Perhaps it was meant to be a controversial topic, intended to divert attention from the more impacting issues of daily survival of the times. Perhaps just a good excuse to fight, conquer, and steal.
And finally, perhaps now that we know how and approximately when our solar system will succumb to its own death throes, the topics of resurrection and reincarnation will seem insignificantly absurd. Cosmic recycling however is a strong contender in the arena of physics, and if religions would allow, it perhaps could be the common thread for future discourse between opposing hypothetisists.
Fairly recent deep space photos have shown us true grandeur and have further revealed our smallness in spite of our collective and amazing accomplishments. Nothing speaks of omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience as convincingly as the results of deep space exploration. Would that we could observe ourselves with such anticipation and expectant delight! But instead, what we see at this micro level when we investigate our individuality is far worse, and is usually frought with fear—the fear of not being good enough to be here at all. What we see from the macro level—looking down at ourselves pretending to be the gods we are not—becomes a mass of teeming humanity thoughtlessly unaware of the privilege we’ve been given as cosmic inhabitants.
When is the last time you looked at the stars from which you came and said thank you? Their nurseries and graveyards are infinitely exchanging energies and locations, splashing their signature elements through billions of years of creation only to end up as you. And me. And every other visible and invisible thing. Perhaps it’s time to relinquish our fetish for dyed eggs in a basket, and instead be grateful for the dieing cosmic egg we’ve tried to hatch in man’s image.
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