Regarding J.C. and the Easter Bunny
For those of you who haven’t been along for the ride all that long, I teach religious education to preschoolers at a Unitarian Universalist church. (No, there’s no punch line here, although I except most of you are waiting for it.) In my time there, I’ve found few things make U.U.s more nervous than Jesus, especially when it comes to their kids. Christmas is okay–we’re celebrating the birth someone who led a life of service and love–a life we should all aspire to, even if firey shrubs don’t talk to us. But Easter? How do you explain crucifixion and rising from the dead to three year olds? Ummm, Jesus was an awesome person and we should follow his example and be kind and then he was nailed to a cross… but don’t worry kids–he rose from the dead… just like a zombie! A holy zombie! You see? It’s tricky.
This year the Easter lesson was bestowed upon me (This, after somehow already having scored Kwanzaa and Hanuka in December). The curriculum mentioned Jesus, but we’re given pretty much free reign to override it at any time. I have a feeling most teachers would have glossed over this one, especially once they got to the classroom and saw the Jesus for everyone storybook we were supposed to have on hand to get us through the Easter story with as little awkwardness as possible was not there, but not me. I went free style and took J.C. head on. I thought we’d have to spend the whole hour talking the Jesus part of Easter through, especially since many of them would be hearing it for the first time. But no, the kids glossed over it for me. I tried, though, I really did.
We started the class by drawing Easter pictures so I could get a feel for what was in their little heads about the subject. Then we circled it up and talked about how Jesus led, by example, a good life and did many good things for people. He taught us the golden rule and was kind to everyone. When he died people were very sad, but then they started to think about all of the great things Jesus taught them and it was like he was there with them again. That’s right, boys and girls, Jesus lives on! In your hearts! Blank stares. After the story of Jesus we shared the pictures we had drawn. I thought we could talk about Jesus and the meaning of Easter from there.
The first kid drew a bunny in a wind storm. Ah ha! A teaching moment! An absurd teaching moment! “That’s very good because the wind is like the winds of change Jesus brought, and bunnies, because they tend to make lots of other bunnies, symbolize a renewal of life–Just like Jesus! Only Jesus didn’t make little Jesi–it’s metaphorical!” Ta da! More blank stares.
“Who would like to share next?” A hand shot up.
“There was this lizard in a taxi cab and he got out and he went on an adventure to the jungle but he forgot his wallet in the taxi cab.” Okay… I know, connect this lizard in a taxi cab to the golden rule!
“Jesus taught us to treat others the way we want to be treated. Remember, that’s called the golden rule. So what would Jesus want us to if we found a lizard’s wallet in a taxi cab?”
Another hand shot up.
“Reduce reuse, recycle!” Okay, Amy, you can do this. Circle it on back to J.C.. “Ummm, yes, it’s like a new beginning when we recycle something. Just like Jesus symbolizes new beginnings at Easter.” Right….
And so it went. That day I managed to bring the following things back around to Jesus: smiley face flowers, sad flowers, an Easter egg hunt where the big brother got all of the eggs, parachuting bunnies, and a trip to Disney World.
I guess the final lesson here is if we can find Jesus in these things, we can find him anywhere. Happy Easter, and be good to each other.
As is tradition, here’s Regarding the Easter Bunny from April 2007
We were always away on vacation for Easter when I was a kid, and for one reason or another The Bunny didn’t make it to Florida. There was a feeble attempt at hiding eggs for my cousins and me one year early on, but an egg that was nestled in the cushions of the couch at our rental house was sat upon, thereby marking the end of that ritual. The only traditions left were ham, bloody mary’s, and my grandmother’s story about how, as a kid, she ate an entire chocolate bunny and then threw up which, she believed, was her punishment for lying to her mother about what happened to the candy.
My daughter is two this year, and my parents, at whose house we are staying for Easter, have decided this is the year to introduce her to The Bunny. Because I am mother to a why-year-old, I have been forced to examine the finer nuances of spring’s favorite mascot.
I had heard my mother casually throwing around the term “Easter Bunny” when speaking to Ella, but I curious about what my daughter actually took away from their conversations. On the way home from a quick trip to my brother’s house yesterday I decided to find out.
“Hey buddy, who’s going to come to Nana Mimi’s house tomorrow if you’re good?” I led.
“The Easter Bunny!” was her reply. “Mommy and the Easter Bunny are my best friends,” she added.
“What’s the Easter Bunny going to do?” I further probed.
“Play ring around the rosy with me and then I will give him a hug and share my toys with him because the Easter Bunny loves toys.”
Clearly I wasn’t asking the right questions about his functionality.
“But what about the eggs you made?” I tried.
“I think the Easter Bunny is going to love my eggs and eat them all up and he’ll be so happy because I love him.”
“He’s going to eat the eggs?” That certainly made more sense than hide them from her.
“Yes. I love the Easter Bunny. He’s my best friend.” That was fast. She didn’t even really know who the Easter Bunny was until a few days ago.
“He’s my best and best and best friend,” she further clarified.
“What does the Easter Bunny look like?” I asked as we pulled into the driveway.
“He looks like a bunny or something.” Good enough for me.
Before Ella went to bed last night my mom had her set a giant bowl of colored eggs in the middle of the living room floor. Unlike the milk and cookies which at least provide Santa sustenance for the tasks ahead, I’m still not sure of the exact purpose of this offering. I listened as my mom reassured my daughter the Easter Bunny would come to her house while Ella was sleeping and, for some undisclosed reason, hide these pastel hunks of hard boiled protein throughout the house. Why and how he would do such a thing was undisclosed, yet unquestioned by my two-year-old. I’ve had twenty-five more years of experience with how the world works, though, and I had some questions of my own. I would like to know how this rabbit gets into the house so as to protect my home from possible unfriendly rodent invasions. Does he burrow? Break a window? Or simply walk through the front door? I’m fascinated by how it all works and want to know more, but my mother shot me the shut-up eye when I asked for details, so I must accept the fact that I exchanged the childhood magic of The Bunny for some SPF 50 and sand in my crack.
In an hour we’ll haul my daughter, along with a forty pound bag of distractions, to church, where I’ll spend my time coaxing her to quietly color, eat snacks, and look at books so as not to distract others. If she’s good, The Bunny might break into her grandparents’ house and hide a bowl full of hard boiled eggs from her.
