To the east comes the deep red light,
Triumph rising with the sun,
Full with the miracle of life,
Creative power within the light,
Daily renewal.
Sacred hoop, sacred life, let us greet you,
Heal our wounds, make us new.
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Christianity arrives in a Platonic landscape where the body is a husk around a soul, imperfect and soon to be shrugged off. For some pagans, the Christian notion of a resurrected body was distinctly odd, especially as there was no possibility of floating off somewhere more etheric. In the next life you still had a body, just not that one that slowly became dust... The body is not a tomb, it's a pleasure, and it goes where we go because we're completely bound up with it.
~ Martin Shaw in "A God with a Dog in the Race" (essay)