Dear Church Family and Friends,
While I understand the sentiment that Easter has been hijacked by chocolate eggs and secular bunnies, I confess that I harbor a deep nostalgia for the Easter days of my childhood. Before church, my sisters and I would hunt around the house for Easter baskets hidden in overgrown closets and—on at least one occasion—a mysterious crawlspace. After church, we would then race around the backyard in search of eggs stashed in bushes and under porches. As I look back on these happy times, I see a fitting metaphor for the divine that may in fact partially redeem Peter Rabbit.
