believe

I set out on this journey to write a tale of Easter from the unique perspective of the Easter Bunny. It was fun, hard, touching, and deeply moving. There were things lost and much gained. It was an odd Lenten journey, but it was the one I was called to travel.

We left bunny world in boxes yesterday, leaving behind an empty bunny patch and wondering if we should say a few words. The bunny won't be returning...at least not until next year. There will be no angels sitting on the green picket fence letting kids know that the Bunny is alive and will meet them at home, the story is now in the hands of parents. The faith is in the hearts of kids.

Our Bunny is in boxes, I know. Some have even questioned the intersection of pastoral ministry and the peddling of the Easter Bunny myth, but I have emerged believing. As I sat there in the bunny suit holding kids and hearing about what they wanted in their basket or taking the pictures they drew for me, I represented an ancient story. As parents stayed up late last night fixing baskets and hiding eggs, they held the tender hands of their children and helped them keep believing.

It's what we do. We keep faith alive. They will need their faith because in learning to love and believe in the Easter Bunny - loving and believing in the real thing will make sense.

I don't believe easy. I'm a skeptic by nature. I honestly don't know what I believe about many things, but I believe that this morning, a dead man got up and walked to prove that love is real and that someday I'll walk too. I can't shake that faith. I heard him again as the sunrise came through my window.

He is risen.

Because He emerged from his grave, I'm a man of faith. Each time I reach out in love, it's his hands. If you are held by me and feel love, it's his arms you feel. My laughter is his, as are my tears. My heart often breaks and my legs buckle, but the hands that always catch me are oddly nail-scared...even if they look like yours.

See, today we continue telling an ancient story. I've given my life to this. I do my best to paint the tale of Jesus every place I'm given opportunity. Our job in each others' life is to keep being the story of the ressurection. We keep giving new life to one another.

We do this with joy because the object our faith is not packed in cardboard this morning waiting for a truck to come take him back to the warehouse. He is here. He is real. He is love.

He is risen indeed.

Amen...and thank you Easter Bunny.