No More Empty Easter Eggs

My earliest memories of Easter include three constants. First was the searching for plastic Easter eggs my parents had “hidden” around the back yard for my brothers and me to find. The second was the wearing of our best clothes to church followed by our annual family photos near the bright red Spring blooms on the rose bush in the back yard. The third was a statement by the man making the opening announcements at church that this was not a special Sunday but just like every other other Sunday. He would say we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus each Sunday when we gather for worship. Oddly, I don’t remember the church actually talking about the meaning of the resurrection on any Sunday. (Maybe they did and I was just too young to grasp it.) It was as if we were given plastic theological Easter eggs with nothing in them. Read the rest of this entry »