So, I tried to make the story age-appropriate (good luck... I can hardly grasp it myself... the horror of Christ's betrayal by a friend, beating, mocking, crucifixion, death. Then the unimaginable, astonishing miracle of His resurrection. A perfect sacrifice. Once and for all. Completing changing the way we approach our Heavenly Father. Completely offering eternal salvation to those who believe!) It was yet another one of the many moments of parenthood where I've longed to have a theology degree upon which to fall back.
I stumbled through the major moments of that Holy week, hoping to somehow make it personal, too.
"He did all of it for you, buddy." I stated simply.
He'd been listening the whole time, but his glance turned into a more intense focus. He searched my face... questions written all over his.
"He did," I continued. "Jesus died for you. And do you want to know why?"
"Why?" He asked in a barely audible breath.
"He loves you."
"Oh... I know."
"No, I mean, He really really loves you, bud."
"Yep. I know."
"He loves you like CRAZY! I mean, He is totally CRAZY about you!" I smiled big as I repeated the words.
He smiled and got that silly "boy" grin that comes before he says something he thinks will be stupid or funny or get him into trouble. And I thought I was about to lose his attention.
And in his best valley-girl impression he said, "Like... so... He loves me so much He could just DIE??"
"EXACTLY!" I jumped to my knees and the enthusiasm of my response even caught me by surprise.
"EXACTLY that much! That's JUST what He did for you!"
I let the moment linger. Then,
"Yeah, I feel the same way."