How to teach children about Easter

We made Resurrection Cookies on Good Friday.

The kids didn't know what that meant, but they were eager to be involved.

First each kid got to crush a bag of peanuts by beating it with a heavy tool--just like Jesus was beaten by the soldiers.

The beating was followed by a splash of vinegar (like what they gave Jesus to drink on the cross) and a pinch of salt (like the salty tears Jesus shed).  Then we added several egg whites (new life!) and a load of sugar (the sweetness of Jesus' love).


We whipped the egg whites until they were white as snow--representing pure holiness--and mixed in the nuts--which became covered with the egg whites, as Jesus' holiness covers our sin.  Then we dropped mounds onto a cookie sheet--each one representing the rocky tomb where Jesus was laid.


Finally, we put the cookies in the oven and "sealed" the door with tape--as Jesus' tomb was sealed and kept under guard.

Then, we waited.


For three days.  (The oven was off.)


At this point, when the cookies were sealed up in their "tomb," Caleb started to cry.


As I guessed he would be, he was forlorn and didn't understand...just like the disciples.

The evening of Good Friday we went to a 7:00 service at church--a very hard time for little people to sit still and quiet.  Caleb spent his time crucifying Christ anew via the bulletin while giving me an audible commentary on it.

"I poked a hole in His thumb!"

Every ten minutes all weekend, Caleb remembered and mourned for his cookies.  As often as he did, we reminded him how sad Jesus' disciples were that He was in the tomb, and they had to wait three whole days to not be sad anymore.


Conversations typically went like this:


[Sadly]  "I want cookies!"


"I know.  Do you think Jesus' friends were sad that He was in the tomb?  Do you think they said, 'We want Jesus'?"


"Yeah, and they wanted cookies."


Saturday Caleb et. al. were distracted for a while by the town Easter egg hunt.

At which event, happily, they did get to decorate and consume an Easter cookie.

And make a lovely Easter hat.

We went to church again on Saturday afternoon, where Caleb told anyone who would listen, "Jesus is in our oven!"


He was totally getting it.


On Easter morning, that most joyous and glorious of days, we came downstairs bright and early, the tomb was unsealed and the longing of our hearts was answered.  We got to eat a cookie.


Before breakfast, too.


If I had made them correctly, they were supposed to be hollow inside (Surprise!  The tomb was empty!), but I think at least the lesson of sadness followed by joy was communicated.


Wow, it was a long weekend.


Nobody mourns like people who had left everything to follow One they believed was the Messiah, whose entire futures were apparently shattered by His death.


Or a three-year-old waiting all weekend for a cookie.