And it was the third hour, and they crucified him. – Mark 15:25
Easter. Where do I start? Forget bunnies and ancient origins of modern Easter eggs. As a child I didn’t care about what shape the chocolate was. And that’s really all I cared for was the candy and the toys. I grew up in a Baptist church. The preacher and Sunday School teachers reinforced my parents teachings of the Passion of Christ. But the impact of the story really didn’t effect me until later in life. It wasn’t until I realized that I was in eternal debt that I began to appreciate the Sacrifice of Christ. I had to develop pride before I could understand the humility of the creator who would turn himself into a human being and suffer mortality. I had to learn what it means to be in debt before I could understand what it means to be free.
My Lord Jesus Christ was beaten beyond recognition and executed for a crime that he didn’t commit but that I was guilty of. The healing hands were pierced for my thievery. The life that flowed through his veins was spilled out so that I could live. His gift was for all of humanity and available to all who believe. What we have come to call Easter is to a Christian a time of remembrance to contemplate our faith. It’s a time of fellowship and brotherhood among believers. Long after the chocolate has been eaten, long after the last colorful egg has been removed from behind the couch cushion and the last of the fake grass has been swept away the real gift of the holiday remains deep within our hearts. It is the gift of the Sacrifice that brought salvation.