It's Lent, past the feast of St. Patrick, at our house that means breaking out the Easter decorations. Today, the Easter wreath and garden flag were installed, assorted bunnies and eggs were strewn throughout our house and the Easter tablecloth was placed on the seldom used dining room table. It also means a time when our children begin to chatter about Jesus at a more rapid pace. UberGeek, uncomfortable with their fervor, attempts unsuccessfully to turn the talk to chocolate candy and magical rabbits who bring baskets. They will not be deterred.
Once, I came upon them in the living room, Diva was on her back, still for once, Eddie Haskell peering over her. "What are you guys doing?" I asked "We're playing Jesus, dead on the cross" they replied happily. Then, "Mama, who died-ed Jesus?" I nearly had a heart attack right there. Surely they were too young for such questions?? Think, Kristie, think. I started into a discussion about Judas and Pontius Pilate, then realized it was definitely too complicated, finally I just changed the subject. I called my friend, who sympathized with me, and said that after her religious discussion with her twin sons they came away believing that Jesus lived in a yellow t-shirt, so she figured religious education best left to Sunday school. I felt better immediately.
Being Catholic, I am no stranger to religious devotion. It's just that I don't think I had such an understanding of things at a young age. Primarily, we played communion with Necco wafers and went to Sunday school for the free graham crackers. My mom doesn't remember me asking any difficult Biblical questions at an early age.
When it's my turn for church (we alternate worship locations) we head to our nearby parish for Saturday evening service. The kiddos are awed by the relatively large cross that hangs in the church. They want to know if Jesus is going to die on that cross. This requires a relatively complicated explanation, broken down in preschool terms, about Jesus, specifically, that He only had to die once for our sins, He rose again and will not be making a repeat performance each Sunday. I am delighted by my children's faith, their grace and beauty. The way they love others and give without question is beautiful, the simplicity of their faith challenges me each day to renew mine, to question it, to learn and to teach what little I know to them. I am thankful the "greatest of these is love", I've got that one covered at least.
