The Fear of Easter

The Fear of Easter

DateLine (3/22/06 – Ponce, Puerto Rico)

What really terrifies you? A few weeks ago I saw one of those “CSI” programs on TV where one of the main characters was kidnapped and buried alive in a box, while his investigator buddies were left to decipher clues to his location left by the abductor who had committed suicide immediately after burying their friend. Such a scenario is the stuff that my worst nightmares are made up. Yelp, I’m claustrophobic. I haven’t always been. As a child I can remember crawling deep into culverts under roadways without giving it a second thought. Immediately after my college graduation I took a temporary job in home construction which required that I work under houses in the Charleston area. I routinely went into crawl spaces on my back dragging my tools and material as I went because when I got where I was going there wasn’t enough space to turn over. Somewhere along the course of my life, this phobia developed.

During our vacation last summer I made up my mind that I would face this fear of claustrophobia. The main square (or piazza) of every major city that we visited in our trip to Northern Italy had a city hall or majestic cathedral with a soaring bell tower. It was obvious that the best view of the gorgeous surrounding Italian countryside and the city would be from the observation post at the top of these towers. Most are open to the public for a small entrance fee.

My first challenge, the Campanile di San Marco, or Belltower of St. Mark's cathedral in Venice had an elevator. Home free I thought until Harriett, Kyle and I were pressed into a 4’ x 4’ elevator with about 15 other people; imagine a sardine can. I survived and the view was worth the 30 seconds that I was holding my breath on the way up and the way down.

The second opportunity to face my fear was the The Torre del Mangia, (the bell tower of Il Campo) in Siena Italy. We got in line and began inching toward the entrance. I soon noticed the warning signs; caution “300 steps to the top”, “not for the faint of heart”, “confining spaces”, blah, blah, blah. As we approached the entrance I turned to Harriett and muttered something about view probably wouldn’t be that great, not enough time – you get the picture. Fear won.

My final opportunity to overcome the irrational was Giotto's Belltower of the Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence. I was determined that I would not succumb. We found the entrance, paid the fee, and entered the staircase. Long story short, it was bad. Imagine a steep winding staircase of stone maybe 3’ wide lined with a constant stream of people – some going up and some going down at the same time. The journey was taxing, the view was worth it.

While it’s a controversial thought, all evidence suggests that Jesus felt fear as His human journey neared an end. The prayer in the garden the night before His arrest and the cry on the cross as His life ebbed away suggest a unique God man struggling with the same range of human emotion and challenge that we struggle with. The amazing thing recorded in the biblical record is a Christ who unswervingly marched toward the fear.

I love Easter. It is my favorite holiday of the year because it is the most unadulterated Christian centric holiday (notwithstanding the Easter bunny.) I love the Easter cantatas with the majestic celebrations of the resurrection. Let us never ever forget the love that propelled the Christ down the narrow road of fear leading to that resurrection.

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! Phil. 2:5-8.