Christian high holidays are inevitably a favorite time for believers to attempt to get their unbelieving or lapsed relatives to visit their church and hear the gospel. Oftentimes, my own relatives are content merely to take our children to along church with them, having long ago realized that we adults are pretty much a lost cause. There are even colorful Easter festivals designed to appeal to children, complete with plastic egg hunts and chocolate rewards.
This all makes perfect sense, if you stop to think about it. Imagine trying to tell an adult (or even a teenager) for the first time that the most central event in all of time and space was when the all-powerful being who created everything arranged for an elaborate human sacrifice, torturing and killing himself so as to allow himself to forgive his beloved creations for acting on the desires that he gave them. When asked why this all-powerful being lacks the relatively mundane power to simply forgive people outright, without shedding blood, the answer is typically a deafening silence.
It’s no wonder Christians seem to feel the need to get this story imprinted while the kids are so young, innocent, and trusting. I can’t think of any other way to make it stick.
