You dress in pastel and laugh and dance and eat an abundance of chocolate and fatty sweets, socializing and decorating and gathering together to spread your joy among the group of people that you care about, saying that it’s all in celebration and love of the Lord.
Did he really die and suffer so, bearing the weight of the atrocity of our sins, opening the entrance to heaven to us unworthy so that we could decorate eggs, eat chocolate rabbits, and find an excuse to hang out with the people we love? It sounds weak.
I don’t know what, but we’re missing something. The weight and urgency of the action falls short of our ears and we let ourselves party instead. Is our happiness really so important to us that we let ourselves believe that his sacrifice was so we could find a reason to smile in our artificial reality? It concerns me that so little can make us believe that we’re living out our discipleship correctly. There must be a better way than this. Than pretending today is just another day. Than hearing a sermon that pumps us up but yields zero action the rest of the day.
We are an Easter people. Tell me. How are we living differently?
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