Unlike most of the world, Easter, for me, is a very sobering time.
Sure I enjoy the chocolate, the Sunday service, a chance to wear pretty, spring clothes. My grandma, even after all these years, still insists on giving me a candy basket. :)
All that aside, however, it's hard to talk about "what Easter means to me." Not because I don't care, it's just that I've never been one to aptly express my inner-most feelings to others.Ten to one, unless I'm crying (which isn't that often), the things I'm saying aren't really all that personal. ;)
But now I have the opportunity to say something, and I want to take advantage of it.
Easter affects me in a way that few things do. It probably has something to do with the fact that my family (excluding Mia) watches Passion of the Christ every Good Friday. Though we normally don't entertain R rated films in our home, I appreciate this one because it turns mere "words on a page" into a reality. So often, I think kids growing up in Christian homes become desensitized to the power of the Gospel. We've heard the stories, memorized the Scriptures, prayed the prayers, etc., but what was a radical, life-changing event for our parents--to us--is just normal.
Only there's NOTHING normal about God!
That's an especially hard concept for me to grasp. I mean, being a textbook learner has its benefits, but the consequences are that I tend to view some things very academically. And I think Scripture, at times, is one of them. Passion changes all that. For once I'm able to see an mostly accurate, non-blaspheming portrayal of Christ's death. And like I said earlier, it affects me. I've never yet been able to watch the crucifixion scene, (WAY too much for me!) but every year I discover more and more that Passion "gets" me in an entirely new way. For instance, scenes that didn't use to make me cringe now have me turning away entirely, plugging my ears, balling my eyes...Maybe it's 'cause I'm older, able to comprehend what Christ's sacrifice entailed. Maybe it's because I'm better able appreciate the payment for my sins. But I think more than either of those points, as I mature in my walk with the Lord, I'm reminded that the violence of what happened in real life was so much worse than what's depicted by any Hollywood film. And that thought literally grieves my spirit.
Because I am so unworthy. So NOT deserving of that kind of love, forgiveness, redemption. As His back bore chunks of flesh being ripped to shreds, as that crown of thorns peirced His temples, as His bones shattered and splintered beneath the crushing weight of those nails....No, I am not worthy. But I am SO THANKFUL that He took my place. I'm told that when I was little, I asked my mom, "How much was the price that Jesus paid?"
I feel like if God could speak audibly in my ear, He would whisper: "priceless."
Oh, I certainly don't feel priceless. But I'm glad He thinks I am. Kinda like my dad. I'm still his "Sweepea" no matter how nasty I look like or how grumpy I am. ;)
Thank you, Lord, for seeing me through the lens of your Son. Thank you that you loved me enough to suffer torture and death for my sake. Thank you for redeeming me for everlasting life. And thank you that every day we are able to celebrate your resurrection...because we are testimony to what you did on Calvary.