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What's Hidden in the Easter Basket?
Though I grew up in the US, I never understood that Easter had any religious significance whatsoever. It was just a holiday from school, after which the other students mysteriously returned with crisp new outfits, frilly dresses, and shining shoes.
My first memory of Easter was in the first grade egg hunt. Ah, what a strange and wonderful country: food was so plentiful that eggs could be collected from the grass. I stumbled about while others filled baskets. The teacher, Miss Gray (who, curiously enough, had no gray hair) finally showed me my lone egg high on a branch.
I was nineteen before I realized that Easter and Christianity had any connection. Until then, I had assumed that Jesus had been a mythological figure, much as any of the Hindu gods and goddesses whose statues were in the special “puja” place in our home. The slow unraveling of the truth that Jesus had actually lived, and breathed, and walked the Earth, was the beginning of a beautiful revelation. Easter is the time to commemorate the resurrection of Jesus, the Christ. After reading about Him, I couldn’t help loving Him for His wisdom, His compassion, His love, and ultimate act of sacrifice – not just for friends but for all of us – even those who mocked and despised Him.
I want to share this passion with my kids. The commercialization of Christmas and Easter saddens me. When holidays celebrate holy-days, I don’t want us sidetracked by chicks and chocolates. Daily life holds distractions enough.
In the same vein, I purposely do not buy the children’s clothes at the beginning of the school year. Perhaps I miss the sales, but fashion should not be confused for learning. I’m reasonable, of course - if the child has trouble breathing or bending or might be mistaken for a creature from Planet Pill-Ball, it’s time for new clothes.
When else is Jesus recorded to have turned over tables and drive out profiteers from the Temple. He was sickened to see His Father’s House, what should have been a house of prayer, converted to a place of commerce. Was there a message there, or what?
I remember the talk we had with our first child when she was nearly four. I was explaining Easter. It’s interesting (no, pathetic) how my standards have progressively sagged for each successive child. With our first, we did art projects, made little working racecars in Meccano, worked huge puzzles, and then videotaped it. (How do you think I can recall any of it?) With my youngest, we stick to basics: hygiene and hunger. If we’ve all brushed teeth and hair, if the tummy tanks say “Full” and the lone diaper tank says “Empty,” I’m satisfied. Throw in fresh underwear and clean, possibly matching socks, and I check for a standing ovation if ever we arrive on time.
My first three-year-old’s eyes grew wide. “Easter? I want Easter to come to my house!” she demanded, remembering our friends Jesse and Esther who had come over the weekend before. (Did we even invite people over for dinner back then?)
“No, this is Easter when..." how could I explain that Jesus was resurrected three days after being crucified without first explaining His death? "...Jesus was alive again." I was in a quandary. I wanted to get to the good stuff without going through the difficulties…so human.
I’m so glad that Jesus willingly suffered what He did. He did it out of love and compassion for us. He paid the price, and He gives freely to any who will ask.
The price for what? For our mistakes and shortcomings, for our imperfections and sins. God requires perfection, but we all end up with flaws – it’s a built-in part of life. The best illustration I heard was from our pastor in California who compared us to windows being delivered for a home. Which of us would accept a “pretty good” brand new window with just a few tiny cracks here and there? So it is with us – even if we think we’re pretty good, we still have flaws, whether large cracks or tiny pits.
Jesus paid that price – His perfection substitutes for our flaws. Easter is a time of renewal and to remember the Resurrection. Jesus gave Himself as a sacrifice so we can “get to the good stuff without having to go through the difficulties.” My prayer is that Jesus’ gift of love and hope does not get buried under the goodies in our Easter baskets.
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