A Creepy Story

If you want to know what you really believe, try explaining it to preschoolers. Having to condense your most important story down to something that is understandable, not too scary, and will hold the attention of a 4 year old is a challenge for the best of us. 

And it is a challenge that I face every Easter during Preschool Chapel.

Last week I found myself explaining the cross and resurrection once more.  Over 100 pairs of wide eyes listened as I started talking. “I want to tell you a story today that has a scary part, but the scary part is in the middle, and if you can get through the scary part with me, I promise there is a happy ending.”  And then I launched into how wonderful Jesus was, and how he taught everybody about how much God loved them. And that there were some Bad Guys who didn’t like Jesus saying things like that, and so eventually they (and I say this part very quietly and sadly, and their little ears still catch every word I’m saying) killed him. 

“But then, when things were their scariest and saddest, some of Jesus’ best friends went to where he was buried.  And he was gone!”  Now it gets even trickier. How to explain the resurrection to these children without accidentally describing ZombieJesus?

“And God brought him back to life to prove that love would always, always win and Bad Guys would always, always lose.  And that we don’t have to be scared ever again, even during our scariest moments, because Christ has been there already before us.”

I thought I had done okay in telling my most important story, until a little boy on the front row piped up, “That story is CREEPY!”  Yikes, had I brought ZombieJesus to life?

The more I think about it, though, Jesus’ story does have a creepy edge to it. There was a lot more creepy stuff than I described to those preschoolers. Sweat mixed with blood. Betrayal. An all-night trial. Whippings. Crucifixion. Abandonment. Yes, creepy isn’t too far off as a descriptor. 

Sometimes even the best of us will find ourselves having to deal with the creepy side of life. Or death. And even when those dark and scary times come, we can hold onto the truth of that very first Easter. That love will always, always win, and we don’t have to be scared ever again, even during our creepiest moments, because Christ has been there already before us.

The Boys on the Bus

The chant is awful, horrible, racist, violent. Watching young men say it so gleefully (in 2015!) is a stark reminder of how far we have yet to come as a nation. The rapid and strong response has been heartening, but the questions raised by this event are deeply troubling.

What about the boys on the bus? Without a doubt, some of them were singing their deepest sentiments.  Surely, though, not all of them truly believed that if a black man wanted to join their merry band, it would be better if they executed him by hanging him rather than let him become an SAE. Why would otherwise “normal” boys sing with such gusto about killing someone?  We underestimate the power of belonging, and we forget the great lengths to which we humans will go to feel like we are part of the crowd. Even if the crowd is dead wrong, at least it’s our crowd. 

Coincidentally, I’m working on Holy Week and Easter worship today. On Maundy Thursday, we will conclude with a congregational litany in which the response of the congregation is the same each time:  “Crucify him.”  All those years ago, a group of people in a crowd urged the execution of a man, although they were urging hanging on a cross rather than dangling from a tree. We’ve spent the last 2000+ years trying to understand what might have made that group of otherwise “normal” people call for the death of a man who had helped many of them. We still don’t understand fully. 

Worst of all, we cannot rid ourselves of the sneaking suspicion that, had we been in the crowd (or on the bus?) that day, our voice might have joined in also.

On Maundy Thursday, the litany will end with a searing truth, enough truth to hold us until Easter’s resurrection joy:

One: GOD! I have tried to be good enough

All: Crucify Him

One: But I have failed again and again

All: Crucify Him

One: But I stand here in this place and say

All: Crucify Him

One: Because I need a savior.