So here we are again. It’s that time of the year again: the Easter bunny costume has to be dragged out of that dusty cupboard in the basement, bakeries are going into hot-cross bun overdrive and supermarkets are subtly increasing the prices of chocolate eggs.
Reckon I might head down to the beach house; I’ll need to help mum and dad stock the car with party pies, sausages and the portable barbecue before heading down to St. Kilda. I can catch up with my mates on Monday and we’ll see how each of us did on the weekly footy tipping. Cmon!
Hang on. There’s something missing… wait a minute. This is a Christian holiday, isn’t it?
Granted, the majority of Australia doesn’t actively practice Christianity, but even the 10% minority that make up the Australian church seems to have left Easter to the same relevance that atheists uphold it to.
Take it or leave it, Easter represents the most controversial, hotly debated, denied, advocated, disregarded and supported events in recorded human history: Jesus’ death and resurrection is what the church preaches, what millions of people are willing to accept because it offers them redemption and a higher purpose and most importantly, salvation.
I suppose in some cases, though, Jesus’ death has in some cases become a clichéd concept. We belittle it because we hear it preached from pastors, street ministers, Jehovah’s Witnesses the Salvation Army, and from pretty much every direction. “Jesus died for your sins” is the standard jargon, and as such Easter becomes for many, a dull regurgitation of the salvation message. The idea of a Friday off is, for some people, much more exciting than celebrating the true meaning of Easter.
Going to church on an Easter Sunday has been devalued by the fact that it’s regarded as the sum of church attendance by the majority of Australian “Christians”. We feel good about attending the Sunday service; is it not true that, even though we never attend church besides Christmas and Easter, we still believe that we are Christians? At any rate, we’ve got our eggs (no pun intended) in multiple baskets, an after-life insurance policy in case that mumbo-jumbo that the Pope pushes is actually true.
Suppose for a second that Jesus is real: what would He be thinking now looking down upon us, as we enter the Easter weekend? Easter is supposed to commemorate Christ’s unfailing, complete and sacrificial love for us; but you know what, I honestly would not be willing to die for Josef Fritzl, not even sure if I’d do it for the guy next door. That just proves to me how much Jesus cared for humanity; Luke 23:34 says “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”
Regardless of whether you believe in God or not, it’s unanimously agreed that Jesus walked the Earth 2000 years ago. The facts are that He was crucified upon a wooden cross for claiming to be the Son of God and King of the Jews. Now, I find that pretty amazing. Even more amazing is the fact that the sky darkened for a number of hours, and the veil guarding the Holy of Holies in the Jewish temple was torn away; there’s no denying that something powerful happened when this Man was nailed to that cross and died. His disciples were in shock and limbo for three days, before Mary Magdalene first discovered Jesus as a risen Man. His message was peace, love and goodwill to all; I don’t think for one second, however, that anyone on this Earth will ever go to that extent. But you know what the greatest, most incomprehensible thing is? He died for you, me, and Johnny Fitzgerald down the street. I don’t know about you, but that is pretty fantastic and downright amazing.
I could probably go back to my Easter eggs and my hot cross buns. I could just relax on this long weekend, having fun with my mates and drinking a few beers. I could probably just sweep the whole Adam and Eve brigade under my carpet and not worry about it.
Or I could take some time to think. To remember a sacrifice that was made for all of humanity, a sacrifice that resonates even today. One thing’s for certain, though: the Easter bunny sure wouldn’t crucify himself for me.