“But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed.” 

Luke 23:23

“Nevertheless, many of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God.”

John 12: 42-43

“Before we can begin to see the cross as something done for us, we have to see it as something done by us.”

John Stott

Wading through bunnies and baby chicks, my daughter and I exhausted the options. 

“Hoppy Easter!” One of the cards screamed from the rack.

I would laugh but for the stark, sad absurdity before me. It wouldn’t be a funny laugh anyway. It would have been an all-too-familiar-laugh-instead-of-cry over the absurdity we are inundated with every day.

This holiday commemorating death’s ultimate defeat has been painted over in putrid pastels. My least favorite color scheme—wishy-washy, transparent.

But we see through it.

Standing in the aisles and aisles of flashy stupidity (gummy spacemen?!) I grow more disheartened.

One card was all we could find that spelled it out: He is risen!

Yet even then His name was absent. 

The hunt continued.

We can fluff all we want, peep, egg hunt, bunny hop and dress up but this holiest of holidays cannot be ignored. For it  is more than a holiday and treats for your peeps.

This is the moment upon which every other hinges. From the first breath at creation and throughout all the ages to come, this one defines them all.

The King of creation who holds us together with a word, let us dabble in absurdity, throw in with the world and submitted even while we screamed out in our self-absorbed and bloodthirsty cries—

CRUCIFY HIM!

We would not be satiated with pretty pastels or bunny-soft sentiments then.

We wanted blood.

And what is incomprehensible?

We got it.

The only blood capable.

The only blood pure.

The only blood irreplaceable replaced our disgrace and covered over our impurity.

The blood of Jesus was given up willingly and with love in those last breaths. Father, forgive them.

Wretched and longing and alone—we were and He became.

This is the news that needs bold, stark letting out not lacy, subtle undertones.

He did what had to be done, what no one could do.

He submitted to death, even death on a cross. He let us wound and pierce him. He let us drain Him. He waited to be taken down and placed in the tomb. 

All of creation cried out as death overshadowed it. Rocks split, tombs broke open, the earth shook.

And when He wouldn’t wait any longer, the breath of life returned to His lungs.

Jesus won. 

He walked out and went home.

And He’s willing to bring you along (YES, even you and me). 

Just don’t get lost swimming in politeness and political correctness or drowning in baby chicks. Don’t pretend you aren’t in need. Long for the glory that comes from God and not from man. 

Do not let love grow cold.

Exhausted all the options? Accept the covering of the blood demanded and find the decay erased. Rest in the rescue and live in the victory He won on your behalf.