Fuck Yeah, Christian Radicalism! is now simply Christian Radicalism!
If there is a future to this thing, then it seems appropriate to change the name simply because the prevalence of ‘Fuck Yeah…!’ blogs seems to have faded into Tumblr history.
Got a better suggestion for a name? Hit us up with a reply.
By Jon Hatch
This is Holy Saturday. Jesus is dead.
We spend so much time talking about how Christ ‘died and rose again’ that we fail to meditate on his death.
Jesus died. His heart stopped beating, his brain flatlined and his body started to decay.
And if we do engage with his death, we run the risk of engaging with his death forensically, like the disturbing mania over Mel Gibson’s disgusting gore-fest ‘Passion of the Christ’.
But for the most part, Christ’s death remains for most Christians a theological footnote, an unpleasant necessity that assuages God’s justice and allows them to go to heaven.
But Holy Saturday is when we come face to face with a dead Jesus. Today, Christians worship a corpse. There is no Sunday. Dead bodies don’t come back to life.
To speak of Easter Sunday on Holy Saturday is to not comprehend what happened on Good Friday. It is to understand Christ’s death only on a philosophical or theological level. However, we must experience Christ’s death from the place of the disciples who watched it happen. They did not go home that night saying, ‘O well, no matter. He promised to rise.’
No, they went away dead men, the most dead men ever, for they had lived with Christ for three years and experienced the Kingdom of God in a way no one ever had. And now it was over. Killed. The Empire won. Corruption won. It was all a lie. There was no hope, and no hope of hope ever again.
We will never be able to feel as they felt. But we can take this day to meditate what it means to live without hope;
to be ‘hope-less’;
to touch the reality of those in our world living with no hope:
the sex slave in a back room of an unmarked building in a back alley of a city whose name they don’t know;
the refugee from an African war now living in a refugee camp a thousand miles away from the spot where she was raped as her husband was shot in front of her and was raped by soldiers yesterday and wonders if they’ll be back today;
The detainee in Guantanamo Bay, denied any semblance of universally-recognised judicial rights, who- even if found to be wrongfully detained- will never be released;
the child handcuffed to a sewing machine who will be beaten if they don’t meet their quota of designer handbags.
These are the ‘Holy Saturday people’, the worthless and the hopeless that live in a world where God is dead and will not come back to life.
There is no Easter Sunday without Holy Saturday. It is through the blackness of Holy Saturday that we must see the joy of the women at the tomb, the joy and courage of the disciples.
Easter is about life in the fullest sense. Not theological life or philosophical life, but the life of a man who was dead and then not dead anymore.
The ‘Holy Saturday people’ of this world are looking for ‘Easter people’. The essence of Christianity is not in doctrine or confessions, important as they are. The first Christians, the first ‘Easter people’, had a simple message: ‘Jesus was dead. Now he is alive. We’ve seen him.’
This is what we have to offer the ‘Holy Saturday people’. Nothing is impossible anymore. No system is so evil, so oppressive, so entrenched that we cannot overthrow it. If Jesus is not dead then nothing is impossible.
We await no revolution; Easter was the revolution.
But that’s all for another day. Today is Holy Saturday, and Jesus is dead.
‘Heaven and earth are united today, for Christ is born. Today has God come down to earth, and man gone up to heaven.’ from the Festal Menaion
(Happy Western Christmas, at least!)