I was raised Catholic so Easter was kind of big deal to me as a kid but there are so many things that didn’t make sense to me then and they surely don’t now.  It started on Good Friday when my mother would make me come inside the house between 1-3PM because “that is the time Jesus died.”  With leap years and Daylight Savings Time over the past two thousand years shouldn’t Good Friday actually be before Valentines Day?  How does sitting downstairs silently for two hours on a sunny Friday afternoon give me a higher place in heaven?  I don’t think the secret to everlasting life can be found being quiet and lazy.

Easter Sunday was a big deal.  This is the day that Jesus rose from the dead.  I would think that if this occurred today it would be the main topic on CNN and they would call in Wolf Blitzer for a special Sunday edition of “The Situation Room.”   I can even see Nancy Grace yelling at Jesus, “C’mon!  Do REALLY expect me to believe that you moved that rock all by yourself!!!!!!!

So we have this wonderful man who was without sin and died on the cross for all of us so we can have everlasting life and the way we show our thanks is by hiding hard-boiled eggs inside our house?  I sure hope the Cadbury family is giving thanks to Jesus because he made them millionaires.  What’s with the bunny?  I mean seriously…the Easter Bunny is one step below a clown on my creep-o-meter.  I remember watching rabbits appear at dusk in my backyard as a kid and I would NEVER be able to get within 20 yards of them.  The Easter Bunny is so tall he could play point guard on most NBA teams, he walks on two feet, doesn’t hop, and he likes to hug and shake hands.  Something is not making sense here.  Try bringing the Easter bunny to church with ya one day and see how quickly the cops show up.   Instead of gnawing on a leg of lamb you and your bunny friend will be in a rubber room weaving baskets out of cooked spaghetti.

I hope you and your family have a Happy Easter….that’s all for now…I think the tooth fairy is at my door.

A news anchor in Chicago told the “truth” about Santa earlier this week and you can imagine the backlash.  Story HERE:  I think you lose that innocent perspective of life the moment you hear the “Santa story.”  I’ll never forget “Santa-Day.”  It was a Tuesday morning in December at about 7:30AM.  The bus would stop in front of my house in ten minutes and I was just about to walk out the front door.  I was seven years old.  Mom asked me to come into my bedroom for a moment and sit down.  My mother got right to the point and said:  “I don’t want you to hear this on the bus but Santa is not real.  Your father and I buy the gifts and he eats the cookies.  I’ll explain the entire thing after school.”  I’m not kidding you.  I got the “Santa Story” like a news anchor was doing a tease for the six o’clock headlines.

I got on the bus stunned.  I looked around at the other snot-nosed kids and wondered how many of them knew.  Could they tell that I had just been told?  Is there a secret sign I need to share with them to illustrate I knew the big lie was over?  Look.  I was seven years old, my mother gives me a cliff-note version of the “Santa story” and throws me on a bus.  My world was a bit shaken and now I questioned EVERYTHING.  In fifteen seconds I had gone from existing in a constant state of Utopia to a psychologists dream.

When I got home from school that day I sat down with Mom and Dad and they explained everything in great detail.  Santa may not wear a red suit and climb down the chimney but he does exist.  There’s a little bit of Santa Claus in all of us and THAT’S what makes him real and makes him exist.  I felt much better.  I trusted the world and my parents once again.  All I could do is hug my mother and say “Well at least we have the Easter Bunny.”  There was a long pause……I think you know the rest of this story.  🙂