As we sat at breakfast Easter morning, my 10-year old son Theo asked me, “why does everybody go to church today?” I reminded him that Good Friday had just passed, and confirmed with him that he understood its significance. He nodded. “And today is the day Jesus, you know… came back to life?” he said, with more than a hint of skepticism.
His little sister Naomi scrunched her nose up. “Came back to life,” she said, “you mean like a zombie?”
On the outside I chuckled at their playful questioning of this seemingly unbelievable detail, but on the inside I cringed at the future judgement they will no doubt face as honest critics of unquestionable dogma. They know the stories of Jesus’ life and death, just as they know countless other stories. They’re acquainted with historical fiction, and they understand how true events often provide a pretext for further embellishment. We’ve never lied to them about Santa Clause or the tooth fairy, and they’re certainly aware that zombies are a product only of our imaginations.
“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” In replying, it seemed the least I could do is acknowledge the obvious.
They both nodded, and Theo pointed out matter-of-factly, “But people really believe that happened.”
“Why would they believe that?” Naomi asked. Adults say the darndest things. Continue reading “A Life Resurrected in its Remembering”