Easter

Growing up, I never went to church. I didn't learn Bible stories or sing the sweet songs that sweet little children sing in sweet little classes.

But this sweet little girl talked to God. I ended each day, in my little twin bed, praying, "Now I lay me down to sleep..." And my "God blesses" included every family member right down to the dog.

I learned of baby Jesus in the Christmas Carols I sang with my sister. My heart was touched by "Away in a manger" and I understood how the Little Drummer Boy gave the very best gift. I loved the story of this special little baby Jesus, who came in love. But, I never knew the rest of the story.

The story of how He went from her womb...to a tomb. 
I didn't know about the Man the boy became. 
I didn't hear how He went to that tree...in Calvary...for me.

I never learned what went down in that little town. 
Nor did I hear about the thorny crown that He wore while being mocked and put down...whipped and beaten...never making a sound in his own defense.

And when we cried out for His blood...
he gave it willingly...
for you...
and me...
on that tree.

'Til morning dawned, and it dawned on us what we had done...we had killed God's Son. 
He really was the One! 
We thought it was over, 
and we wept..in gloom...at the tomb.

But just when regret was a threat to our sanity, 
for all of humanity
the story continued...into the grand finale.

This dead man, the one who had grown up among us, 
our friend and our brother, 
who lived and died...
walked out of the tomb, fully alive!

And it was then...when I heard this story and met the Man this baby had become...that I began to live.

No, the story doesn't end with sweet baby Jesus.

There are many stories in the world. So many beautiful stories about love, and heroes, and good winning against evil.
But this story...the story of the Man...who came, and loved, and healed, and lived against all odds...this story rises above all other stories, and has a life of its own.

And today, just the mention of His name still offends.

Even as a sweet baby, He offended our sensibilities. One leader set out to kill him, killing every child just to try and make sure Jesus didn't grow up...and become the Man.
Because he knew...just like we do...and he feared Him...just like us.

People talk about "Sweet Baby Jesus". We aren't that bothered by the story of the baby in the manger...we still sing the Carols, never looking beyond the baby...and the fa la las...to the Cross.

But at Easter, well...this particular time of remembrance is not as easy to ignore.
So...determined...we try to cover up the brutality of His death by focusing on eggs...and chocolate bunnies...and baby chicks...isn't it funny?

No, not funny...just proof that the One who offended hundreds of years ago still has that same power.

Because He is alive. Today. And tomorrow.
He came for me. 
He lived to show me what living looks like.

See, a memory doesn't have that much power. A good story is quickly forgotten. A legend doesn't stir up this kind of emotion...and hate.

But Love...well, Love is the power.
Love...given to someone we deem undeserving.
Love...that chooses to remain silent in the face of all accusations.
Love...that touches the untouchables in a society lacking compassion.
Love...that loves both the hero and the villain.

Love...came in a little baby...and grew into a perfect man. Love lives on.

This kind of Love can never die. It will continue to be resurrected in the hearts and lives of each woman and man who chooses to accept it. And even amidst the distractions...and chocolate bunnies... the story continues...forever.

Happy Easter to you all!!!