On Easter and the Image.

I caught a bit of an Easter Service on the TV yesterday. I watched, fascinated, as two young people – a young man and a young woman – read the lessons. They were both squeakily smart, sickeningly self-aware, and infuriatingly earnest.

As the myth would have it, the original Christians were raggedy men and women walking around the countryside living rough. They probably had fleas. They were subversives, rebels who courted trouble with the authorities and the Establishment generally.

How on earth did they become plastic facsimiles of sugar candies, manufactured in the Establishment’s own workshop to promote its interests?