Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? In this era of fast-paced technological change, I’m probably displaying my terrible penchant for the passé when I confess to having watched Spongebob Squarepants with my daughter. I even went to the theater, back in Wisconsin, to watch the much hyped Spongebob Squarepants Movie. We eagerly awaited its release on DVD. Well, maybe not eagerly. In any case, after repeatedly watching it for several months, it was shelved and forgotten. Until recently. Playing archaeologist in our apartment, I sometimes unearth artifacts that have been hidden since our hurried and harried move from Wisconsin to New Jersey. We have never really fully unpacked since leaving Nashotah House, and opening a dusty box in a corner can feel like Christmas sometimes. Or, maybe you just discover the Spongebob Squarepants Movie.

It was a rare three-day weekend. School was about to start, and the commute to work would begin to take longer now that the leisured class had to admit to summer’s end. A little silliness seemed just the prescription I needed to face the work week. A little softness before hard reality.

I have noticed for several years now that American movies (and this may be true of movies from elsewhere, but I can’t say for sure) frequently make use of the death and resurrection theme. I suspect that a country that identifies itself so closely with Christian ideals finds this reiteration reassuring. Sure, the scenario is cathartic on a very basic level, and yet, it lies at the very heart of a central Christian belief—death is not the final word. So as Spongebob and Patrick are laid out on the drying table in Shell City and the water vapor rises from them like their departing souls, the viewer is left with a desiccated porifera and echinoderm and a profound sense of loss.

Of course, resurrection is right around the corner. The fire alarm goes off, showering down life-giving water from above, and our stars pop back to life. Resurrection in nature is limited, by appearances, to plants. With the annual cycles of death and rebirth, an individual plant may attain that for which animals only hope. This is a most robust religious symbol and movie viewers would be bereft without it. Even if the next time you see a sponge is when using it to clean the toilet, remember that resurrection crops up in the unlikeliest of places.