The conviction that a man who died came back to life is, of course, a paradox. But that paradox may contain the secret of its powerful appeal, . . . it speaks the language of human emotions. It addresses itself to that which may be our deepest fear, and expresses our longing to overcome death.
—Elaine Pagels, The Gnostic Gospels
Be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong directions. Practice resurrection.
—Wendell Berry, Manifesto
In this time of endings, how can we speak of resurrection, that is to say, new beginnings? Honor resurrection we must, because every ending is a new beginning, and every new beginning is the end of something.
In the Christian tradition, resurrection symbolizes triumph over death, and in ancient mythology, new life always issues from death. The life/death/life cycle is eternal. As we prepare spiritually for collapse, we must hold resurrection alongside all of the demise inherent in collapse. We will never live to see all of the myriad resurrections that occur years, decades, centuries, or even millennia after collapse. We plant seeds now, but for the most part, we will not witness the harvest.
Whatever one believes about the afterlife, resurrection—in some form—will come. Wendell Berry tells us to practice it. Throughout this book, I have been asking us to practice becoming familiar with death and dissolution. But now I join with Berry and ask us all to also practice rising again.
Resurrection is a paradox, as Pagels reminds us, but so is death. Once again we find ourselves unable to escape paradox. In fact, paradox may be one of the greatest sources of resilience—a secret hidden from those who place their faith in industrial civilization, but known by those who have recognized its terminal status.
Make tracks erroneously. Make many mistakes. Recognize your finitude, but practice resurrection.