Balancing the meanings of Easter

Easter in many households depends on the horns of a dilemma. It’s an either/or situation, and I wonder if that’s good.

Our young friends, for instance, had a dry run Saturday morning, exercising their right to enjoy the more secular aspect of the season by engaging in a mini Easter egg hunt. Their Oma had given them a handful of brightly wrapped treats and encouraged us to indulge them. The funny thing about such indulgence, of course, is they’re there and we’re here. We will deal ultimately with the sugar high.

You can imagine the excitement prior to the event; the pre-dawn prelude is unavoidable. As much as any parent might wish to pull up the covers and grab that extra minute of shuteye, it isn’t going to happen. Baskets in hand, the kids prodded us out of the rack and finished the adventure in jig-time, requiring no more than about 10 minutes to find and successfully cache their booty.

There was, naturally, the persistent question from there on out: “Can we have one? Just one? It’s the smallest….”

Uh-huh. And it’s 7 a.m., you’ve had no breakfast, but chocolate at such an hour, as far as children are concerned, is indeed the breakfast of champions. Adults must be in a weakened state at this point in the day because we relented and allowed one – repeat: one – treat.

It didn’t lessen the demand, but the matter of negotiation becomes simpler when you’ve satisfied the request. No matter the number of times it resurfaces, you can say with impunity, “not now. You’ve had your treat and that’s it. Eat your Cream of Wheat.”

Oddly enough, the prelude seems to have dulled the fervour associated with this coming weekend. The mini hunt has apparently sated the anticipation and although we’ve heard one or two things about Easter, we haven’t experienced the daily reference that has existed in previous years.

I think that’s a good thing. I’m a traditionalist, and even though it was fun to put out hats as youngsters to coax a sweet treat from the bunny, Easter has always meant much more.

It’s a celebration of the death and resurrection of Jesus, a story with which we were quite familiar growing up. I’m not sure as many children now are as aware of it as kids were in my youth because I suspect the focus for many families -- and thus, their kids -- has shifted. However, as delightful as the hunt is, I like to strike a balance that informs them as much as the brilliant eggs entertain them.

They know the story, although it’s sanitized. Truth to tell, the Passion is a gory recounting of intense suffering and I don’t think the kiddies need chapter and verse in that regard. They know that Jesus was put upon a cross because that’s what the Romans did in those days to those they didn’t like, and they’re aware also that he rose on third day.

Keep in mind, we don’t sit around a metaphoric campfire and recount the tale on Easter Sunday. The hunt is the thing that morning, but we do take the time to remind the little ones why there’s no school on Good Friday and what the following Sunday is all about.

It’s a delicate balance and likely poses a dilemma for families who seek to align tradition with treats. I believe both have a purpose and we strive to walk the line between what was and what is.