Tag Archives: Easter Sunday

Easter, Holidays, Reflections

A SIMPLE EASTER

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My longtime friend and photographer, Mark Rouk, created this picture a few years ago. It is my all-time favorite Easter picture. I’m guessing he used some simple things like a mound of sand, a few twigs, a drop or two of superglue, a black cloth, and a flashlight. Regardless of what he used beyond his own amazing creativity doesn’t matter—it is the message that his simple silhouette speaks to us.

Defining Easter can be huge or minuscule, depending on your audience. If one is writing a dissertation, it could get deep and complicated really quick. But if it is telling a child what Easter is about, a simpler definition will work. Basically, Jesus loves us so much that He died on a cross for our sins. Enough said, huh? Sometimes a simple Easter is in order for our crazy-busy lives.

I am beyond the age of having kids and even grandkids young enough to hunt Easter eggs. Those were simple days—wonderful days with priceless memories. We dressed our children in the best Easter apparel we could afford—matching shirts and slacks, frocks and frills, shoes, hats and Easter baskets. After the Easter Sunday Morning Church Service, we all made our way to Gramps and Granny Kellogg’s house for lunch. Our sweet Granny Grace’s Easter egg hunts are forever lodged in our hearts. But before the hunt could take place, we gathered in the kitchen where every inch of countertop, the cooktop and the kitchen table were filled with dishes of delicious food. Everyone ate their fill with joy and laughter—while holding off the kids as long as possible to give the teenagers time to hide the eggs. Then the race was on!

I suspect your past Easter Sundays were much like mine. It seems as though they were a lifetime ago. Yet today, I hear my Lord speak priceless words to my heart: “Sarah Jane, slow down and have a simple Easter this year.” I don’t know about you, but I’m in need of a more-simple lifestyle altogether. See if you can relate.

I need to manage my intake of frightening news from around the world—and my best guess is to simply turn it off. I need to worry less about all the corruption in our nation, and simply focus on the good. I need to care less about just the right clothes, shoes and purse, and simply be content with what I have. I need to stop fretting about all the high prices (and God knows they are everywhere), and simply settle for less going, less buying, and less eating. I need to spend less time on frivolous and unnecessary things, and simply do more things that make my Lord, my family, and my friends smile.

I’m sure you’ve heard the K.I.S.S. principle—Keep it simple, S______.” The Lord just gave me the idea to insert the word “Sweetie” as the fourth word in that phrase. So, here’s my advice for a wonderful Easter this year: “Keep it simple, Sweetie!”

A HAPPY AND BLESSED EASTER TO ALL! ~ Sarah Jane

Christian Living, Holidays

An Uncommon Easter

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The choir would be gathering later that evening to put the final touches on our Easter Cantata. I sought for some words of inspiration to share with them since technical issues had robbed our last practice of any spiritual connection whatsoever. We had worked hard for weeks and now Easter Sunday is only days away. How might we tap into the true message of Easter, rather than focusing on the mere performance that lies ahead of us?

 

During my morning quiet time, I read several devotionals that focused on Passion Week. Quite unexpectedly, the Holy Spirit dropped the word “uncommon” into my heart. I was reminded that us humans often become so familiar with people, things, and concepts that they lose their uniqueness—their wonder—and thus, their impact on us. I questioned if that is what we have perhaps done with the Easter story.

 

Has the story of Christ’s suffering become common place? Are we calloused to the brutal beating of our Savior’s back, or is it simply too gruesome for us to consider? Is that thorny crown just a part of the imagery, yet we miss the stinging pain inflicted by each single thorn pressed into His brow? And what about the mocking and ridicule He endured—are we oblivious to the agony of cutting words upon the heart? He bore that heavy cross with a weakened body, only to reach the most dreaded place of all—the hill on which He would shed every drop of His royal blood for the ungrateful lot of humankind. And in the worst of the worst moments—when even His Father couldn’t bear to look upon Him—He asked that they would be forgiven because they did not know what they were doing.

 

I don’t know about you, but to me that has all the markings of “uncommonness.” When reviled, Jesus reviled not again. When charged with claiming to be a King—which He was—He said, “As you say.”  Even his closest friends watched from a distance as He died alone. He himself admitted that He could have called ten thousand angels to rescue Him, yet He didn’t, for that would have thwarted the plan of God. This gruesome death was His purpose and He would see it through to the very end—not part way. No, He wouldn’t pronounce His assignment too difficult to complete, nor waver in His belief that this was God’s plan. He would not question who He was or what He came to do. Rather, He endured the cross and pushed through until He could declare before heaven and earth that “It is finished.”

 

Uncommon to mankind? I should say so. Uncommon to you and me? Certainly. There is no commonness of man to be found anywhere in His story, yet we are much like the disciples that fled in the garden. We are capable of standing with Peter and deny that we know Him. At times, we too question His claim to be King. It’s even possible that we would join the ranks of those who jeered and cried out “Crucify him!” Most assuredly, we identify with the lot of followers who looked on from a distance. And the ones who were clueless about what they were doing—they could actually be our next of kin.

 

So how might the word uncommon inspire us? My prayer for myself is that I will never again think of the cross as common. May I never forget the expensive price tag attached to my soul, or take for granted the love of Christ that caused Him to take my place. God forbid that I should ever think that forgiveness is simply Christian jargon, as if God were handing out free raffle tickets for a big prize. I pray that I never underestimate the pain He endured to make me His child, and that I never forget His kindness extended to me is the greatest gift I will ever receive. And lastly, I pray the word “common” never enters my thought process again as I reflect on that incredibly awesome resurrection morning when Christ broke through all the barriers and cinched my own resurrection from death, hell and the grave. Oh, it truly is an uncommon story.

 

As the choir mounted the stage and took their seats for our final practice, I challenged us all to consider what a privilege is ours to present this uncommon story of an uncommon Savior, His uncommon sacrifice, and His uncommon resurrection to many Easter Sunday visitors who perhaps still see Jesus as merely a common man.

 

With a renewed energy and an abundance of adoration and praise filling our hearts, we pulled off a pristine rehearsal. Wishing all of you a very Happy and Uncommon Easter. ~ Janie Kellogg

Photograph by Mark Rouk, Oologah, Oklahoma