“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14).
Easter has always been an important holiday for my family. I’m grateful to my grandparents and parents for instilling in me the need to observe it from early childhood.
Childhood memories come to mind as I lay this down: I remember my grandmother sitting around a small table in our kitchen and preparing the traditional Easter dishes, which at home are made of lamb; I remember getting ready to go to the Easter service in the small Orthodox church in my grandparents’ village early morning on Easter Sunday; I remember the joy of buying new clothes ahead of Easter almost each year as a child, because tradition at home said that “it was good to have new things for Easter.”
Easter does make everything new, I have come to discover years later. It is neither the holiday, nor the tradition that is associated with it, that makes this happen.
It is the truth of the sacrifice that the Son of God made on the cross, so that people could have a relationship with God, that gives Easter its meaning.
Contrary to popular belief, that is not and has never been a mere story. It’s never been the story of a random prophet; scribbles concocted by old religious men; old ramblings that are no longer relevant in our modern world; deluded thinking for those who are intellectually poor, materially poor, socially weak or ill.
It has always been the truth.