The other night at dinner Felipe had a question. He wanted to know – do you have a tradition – eggs for Easter? We smiled and said, Yes! Egg hunts and candy. This is our tradition. But why? He wanted to know. What is that?
We misunderstood. We thought it was something he hoped we’d do. Not realizing he was puzzled. Why? He asked it again. In Colombia – no Rabbit of Pascua. He seemed a bit disgusted.
Well, that’s probably okay. Because yes, it is our tradition, but it is definitely not our focus. Our focus is, and always has been Jesus.
All week we’ve been reading portions of the real Easter story from Matthew. We take turns reading after dinner each night, from a Spanish-English Bible. Twice we read the text through, once in each language. And if this sounds beautiful in writing, you ought to be at our table.
Teenaged boys gather grudgingly for the obligatory reading. Those who have wandered from dinner early are coerced to return from computer games. The mood is, believe me, less than inspiring. Except for one thing. A glimmer of a God-sent miracle unfolding right before our eyes.
Nils has a buddy who lives in the house just behind us, and lately he’s been showing up at our dinner table hungry. But it couldn’t be stomach hunger. The boy is usually eating his second dinner. It’s something else, we think. Perhaps he is hungry for a story.
He was with us the first night, when we read about the Passover meal. Jesus shared the bread and the wine, and he talked about the one who would betray, and the one who would deny. And we asked – do you know the rest of the story? No? Come back tomorrow to hear more.
And he did. This sweet neighbor friend. He came back the next night and the next. He offered to read, even though, he says, I’m not a good reader.
Oh, if only you knew. What a joy you are bringing, at just the right time. Jesus, and this boy, both. Bringing us joy and hope and delight in this season.
No. It’s not about the rabbit. Not at all.