When the Resurrection Comes, and Whitefield's Thumb

If you know me, you know I have kind of a weird sense of humor and [over]active imagination. I relay these thoughts about the Resurrection of the Body. 

But first, please know I don't intend to offend anyone who actually believes in things. A lot of this is just in good [or weird] fun. 

Spending a lot of time after my dad's passing thinking about  all of the baggage that comes along with being dead. Being dead is a bigger racket than marriage, to be honest. I feel like the world has moved past the big church, big wedding, expensive dress, hugely unaffordable reception. But with funerals it is still kind of expensive because of laws and churches, there are stipulations and responsibilities that need to be met to deal with a dead human. 

Let's talk about the body after death. There are options aside from being put in a box, lowered into the ground, and left there taking up massive square footage of land rotting and useless.

Cremation. I think it's a great idea! It saves space because cemeteries are basically full, or getting fuller. Whenever there is a giant storm, you hear stories of crypts and cemeteries getting flooded and coffins and bodies rising and floating away. Kind of gross. 

Scripturally, from the start we know we came of the earth, we return to the earth. It doesn't say we get put in a box, in a cement box, in a metal enclosure, or anything. Why not return to the earth as dust?

When someone dies, their ashes can be scattered and they go to wherever in a natural way. You can also, in theory, say hello ocean waters by a sprinkled burial at sea, or be added to a reef. You can get little wee necklaces and carry your beloved's ashes around with you in a pretty pendant. Heck, everyone in the family can have one and wear and a lil'bit of Grandpa. You can be buried in a memorial forest and your tombstone is an established tree (I like this idea) or your body can be put into a pod that grows a tree from seed (another nice idea). Press the ashes into a stone to carry around in your pocket forever.

The concept of the resurrection, the physical restoration of the body, means different things for different people. I remember when Clayton passed away he wanted to be cremated, and have his ashes spread somewhere on Martha's Vineyard, his favorite place. But his mom insisted on a cemetery burial, and of course, funerals are for the living. The deceased's wishes are often passed over. 

So I had been thinking about the resurrection, the physical resurrection, and I don't think our existing bodies are involved. I think it is something else, to be honest. 

First, I gotta say that the coffin plus the cement case kind of burial will slow people down! How's a guy gonna get the hell out of that contraption? Will it just explode open and a magical body with super powers float up out of the ground! Or will they wake up and be ... trapped forever! Or will other celestial beings dig up the people who need released and reunite the team! 

Second, what kind of body do we get? I mean, my dad would probably want his healthier early 20s hard working body and not his 83 year old body. Old people probably do not want old worn out bodies, so I'd hope folks get their best possible body or best possible body times 100 when they come back. What about amputees? What about people in wheelchairs! Tell me more about these bodies! 

Finally, if our souls are in heaven, what do we need these bodies for? Does our soul get sucked back into the body and it is all magical? But I would think that a freed soul would not want to be trapped in a body again after years or centuries of freedom. Nah. I bet they enjoy being disembodied.

For centuries the Catholic church didn't allow for cremation, but in 2016 they changed their tune about it, with some caveats. No keeping someone in a box in a house, no dispersal at sea. It is disrespectful to separate the body and put it in different too, I guess. The catholic church sees all this as pantheistic, secular, sacrilegious. So everyone forget about taking a couple ounces of Auntie Joan in a cross shaped necklace bauble.

My dad grew up Catholic and has no real love for the church or traditions but wanted to be buried with his parents. Basically because of rules up until a few years ago, he never would have allowed to be. In fact, I am not 100% sure he is allowed to be honest. We're going to have to look into that. 

But I do know, he wanted to be cremated, and he was. 

My sister and I were talking about his ashes on our way to my mom's two weeks ago. She wanted to take my dad's ashes, and add his cat's ashes to the urn. She thought he should be buried with the cat, he loved and cherished (and tortured playfully) that cat so ... why not. 

Well.

Where's my brain go with all of this? You know it goes places.

"Oh you can't do that!" I said. "When the resurrection comes, what happens if his ashes and the cat's ashes are mixed together!? His body will be restored with cat paws coming out of his chest!?" I used my hands to mimic what it would look like if he had short kitty arms sticking out of his torso.

"He will be covered in calico fur and have whiskers!" Again, mimed whiskers sticking out of his nose. "And a TAIL! He'll have a TAIL!" I tossed my hands up. 

"No, you can't do that. Nope." 

She looked at me with disbelief and said "the fuck is wrong with you saying stuff like this," and I started laughing, I seem to remember her laughing, but maybe she was laughing nervously like I believed that this would happen. 

I told her of course I don't really believe that'll be the case, no one is going to be resurrected with cat fur and extra limbs, it was just fun to say. But the image in my mind makes me laugh for sure. Calico Bart.

But. What if...

The church we used to go to in Massachusetts has the founder, Reverend George Whitefield, buried in the crypt in the basement. After his death in September 1770, a lot of people came to collect his body saying that George wanted to be buried in their cemetery, at their parish. He had established churches up and down the 13 colonies. So sure, I could see how people would want him to be buried there. But he was buried at Old South. End of conversation, right?

His crypt was broken into several times after his death, even by Benedict Arnold and his troops who came and cut lace from his garments to take with them into battle in Canada thinking it would help them (it did not). His arm was taken to England, other parts went elsewhere. 

Our pastor very much wanted to have ALL OF GEORGE returned to his crypt. At Drew University, there is what we believe is the last bit of his body, his thumb. Which they refuse to return. 

Jess used to always joke around that it is probably a good thing. What if the Reverend's body is fully reunited with itself, and suddenly, boom! HE IS RESURRECTED! and he comes out of the crypt fully restored, mighty, huge!!!! with superpowers. 

And he despises the state of modern Christianity in America, the conservative Christian church, evangelical hypocrisy. He begins to rampage across the country, destroying the false temples and liar pastors in their pulpits. Think Joel Osteen. Look out, here comes George. 

Who will stop the rampaging Whitefield! Only four plucky Gordon College students brave enough to rise to the challenge!

To be honest, I've read a lot of his writing and George had some strong opinions about slavery (he was all for it, because how can you build a nation without the strong backs of the enslaved! of course! He thought they were poorly treated, and dreaded the day that maybe they'd rise up and get the upper hand. It's complicated and cringey to read his writing). Would the plucky Gordon Students be able to talk to him about more modern concepts about the dignity of all humans, and make it so he'd grow a little bit into the new body, the reunited vessel he is, or would they have to destroy him, and send the thumb back to Drew University. 

Jess and I should have written this movie. 

And right here, I say COPYRIGHT ME AND JESS!!!! TM TM TM!!! AND DON'T YOU TAKE ANY OF THIS AND MAKE IT INTO A MOVIE, YOU BASTARDS! 

Here's the crypt. Imagine it bursting open in flaming light ... hope the building survives. Hmmm. 

Digits below.

digits

exercise: 12/12 hours of 250 steps. 

blood glucose:

10am: 143
5pm: 146
10pm: 150

food:

coffee, water
12pm: Metformin, tuna salad on 2 slices of 647 bread
6pm: chicken breast, sautéed zucchini and squash with bacon.
7pm: metformin
4 beers