My wife got an Easter card with the message, “Have a gorgeous Easter from the Maker of all things beautiful.” On the cover were enlarged pictures of cherry blossoms. Yes, all things beautiful. I am not an atheist, so I deeply appreciate beauty at its source — a vermilion sunset, a sky-cracking thunderstorm, a snowdrop blooming in the snow of March, a maple tree in the fall, an enlarged Hubble photo of a nebula, a newborn lamb, a beautiful woman — and the list goes on.
Let’s go back to Easter almost a century ago. My little brother used to enjoy grabbing a lock of my hair at the top and pulling me across the lawn. I never stopped him. As a matter of fact, you might say I encouraged him. To me there was the beauty of youth, of joy in a small prank. You, know, I have a full head of hair in my eighties; the roots grew deep.
And it all started with a Passover, about 2,000 years ago.