The Empty Easter Egg
“…and His incomparably
great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of His mighty
strength, which He exerted in Christ
when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the
heavenly realms…” (Ephesians 1:19, 20)
Paul Harvey, the
national radio storyteller, once shared heart-touching stories from the lives
of famous people, as well as those who are nameless. Several years ago, with help from his friend
Rev. Harry Prichett, Jr. he told the story of little Philip:
He was 9- in a Sunday School class of 8-year olds. Eight-year olds can be cruel. The third-graders did not welcome Philip to
their group. Not just because he was
older. He was different.
He suffered from
Down’s Syndrome and its obvious manifestations:
facial characteristics, slow responses and symptoms of mental
challenges. One Sunday after Easter,
the Sunday School teacher gathered some of those plastic eggs that pull apart
in the middle-the kind in which some ladies’ pantyhose are packaged.
The Sunday School
teacher gave one of these plastic eggs to each child. On that beautiful spring day each child
was to go outdoors and discover for himself,
some symbol of “new life” and place that symbolic seed or leaf or whatever
inside his eggs. They would then open
their eggs one by one, and each youngster would explain how his find was a
symbol of “new life.” So…The youngsters gathered
‘round on the appointed day and put their eggs on a table, and the teacher
began to open them.
One child had found a flower.
All the children “oohed” and “aahed” at the lovely symbol of
new life.
In another was a butterfly.
“Beautiful,” the girls said. And
its not easy for an 8-year old to say, “Beautiful.”
Another egg was opened to reveal a rock. Some of the children laughed.
“That’s crazy!” one said.
“How’s a rock supposed to be life a ‘new life?’”
Immediately, a little boy spoke up and said, “That’s mine. I
knew everybody would get flowers and leaves and butterflies and all that stuff,
so I got a rock to be different.” Everyone laughed.
The teacher opened
the last one, and there was nothing inside.
He felt a tug on his shirt. It
was Philip. Looking up he said,
“It’s mine. I did it. It’s empty. I have
new life because the tomb is empty.” The
class fell silent.
From that day on, Philip became part of the group. They welcomed him. Whatever had made
him different was never mentioned again.Philip’s family had known he would not
live a long life, just too many things wrong with the tiny body. That summer, overcome with infection, Philip
died.
On the day of his
funeral nine 8-year old boys and girls confronted the reality of death and
marched up the altar-not with flowers. Nine children with their Sunday School
teacher placed on the casket of their friend, their gift of love- an empty egg.
On this day before Resurrection Sunday, as we prepare our
hearts to celebrate His life, we can know that the empty tomb forever stands as
heaven’s hope in any hurt we face. He is risen!
He is risen indeed!
Terry Risser
Consider reading the Word today:
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