So, the fact that I was with her in her church this Easter Sunday morning was pretty significant. Moms like to have their kids with them for church on Easter, even when their kids are 50-year-old preacher types. Mrs. Sweetie and I even attended the Senior Adult Sunday School department. My step-dad scrounged a guitar for me to use and asked me to sing a few songs with them. I did songs by request for about 20 minutes. Fifty-year-old preacher type kids still like to make their parents proud and I think I succeeded.
The majority of the Christian faith community worships on Sunday because the Bible tells us that Jesus rose from the dead on the first day of the week. We especially acknowledge that day on the Sunday that we have come to call Easter Sunday. Some people don’t like all the Easter bunny and Easter egg stuff, so maybe they refer to it as Resurrection Sunday.
I’m not going to get too worked up about how people celebrate or worship. Whether one is a person of faith or not, the fact remains that this day commemorates an event that changed everything. I assert week after week in this column that our lives matter to God. There is no greater support for that assertion than what occurred on the other side of the world about two millennia ago.
Our lives matter so much to God that He came to us in human form in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. “In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God … So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father's one and only Son.” (John 1:1-2;14)
Our lives matter so much to God that He made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf. “I passed on to you what was most important and what had also been passed on to me. Christ died for our sins, just as the Scriptures said. He was buried, and he was raised from the dead on the third day, just as the Scriptures said.” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4)
Those truths are the foundation on which I build my life. They affect what I write. They affect how I love Mrs. Sweetie. They even affect the songs I sing for my mom.