I can’t remember if I was four or five the Easter Sunday that the Easter bunny visited. I loved Easter as a kid. What’s not to love about it? It was spring, I would get a new outfit to wear to church (a dress, a hat and new Mary Jane’s), and, of course, the basket of candy, with promises of even more goodies during the Easter egg hunt. I also actually liked going to church on Easter Sunday. The often dour sermons of my rather conservative church were set aside for the day, replaced with a sermon of hope. It was a celebration after all, a celebration of Jesus’ resurrection, a message of rebirth, a reminder that all things are possible, that miracles do occur.
That particular Easter, I was with my mom and step-father at my step-father’s parent’s house in South Dakota and I was just starting to have my doubts about the existence of Santa Claus; I had asked my mom about it the day before. I don’t remember if I was the first one up that morning but I do remember that I was alone in the kitchen when I opened the back door and stepped out onto the steps leading to the backyard. I hadn’t looked at my Easter basket yet, I was too interested in the fact that it had snowed the night before. I had seen the sparkle of the snow from an upstairs window and I wanted to look at it up close. I had to wait a moment on those back steps, the sun was reflecting off of the snow, dazzling me with its brightness, and I needed to let my eyes adjust a bit. As they did, I noticed something in the snow – tiny footprints, footprints that looked an awful lot like bunny tracks, leading up to the back steps of my grandparent’s house. It took me a moment to realize that there weren’t any return prints leading away from the house.
I’ve spent a lot of time this week thinking about the meaning of the Passion story, the suffering that Jesus experienced, his fear and doubts, and most importantly his faith in following through in spite of his doubts. I don’t know if I’ve managed to figure anything out, but today it doesn’t really matter; there will always be suffering, our own and others, to struggle with. Today is about joy and hope, a day for celebrating the miracle of our existence, and a reminder that we don’t have to do any of it alone, God has given us a road map through the example of a human who showed us that he was also, as are we, divine.
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Love ur story. As always interesting, and hopeful. I love u and think u r so provacative..makes me think every time I read one of ur pieces… That god has a plan & if we give our thanks & worries to him, he may have a reason to accommodate & if he doesn’t answer then there is a message in his absence…. Amen
Happy happy Easter ;- D
Hi La — I remember your bunny story, and it is a wonderful story of faith, even if it were just faith in the Easter bunny
I went to church this morning, and there in my Unitarian Universalist service the minister told the story of the death and resurrection of Jesus. He spoke of the different perspectives of Jesus — the focus being either on his suffering or on his resurrection. He said the memory of his suffering reminds us when we are suffering that he suffered as well and is with us in our suffering. The memory of the resurrection reminds us that there is hope and, as you have aptly stated, that he and we are divine. Actually, the UU minister did not mention the divine part — I added that. In my recent personal feelings of suffering, I have thought about turning to prayer. This morning before that sermon, I sent out a prayer asking for help. I felt that the sermon was in some ways an answer, reminding me that God is there for me, even if I don’t always remember to ask for help.
Hey Angela,
I am just now reading this. Thank you, again.