Last night, Easter Vigil, I went out for a glass of wine with a couple friends.
I mentioned that it was the tenth anniversary of my baptism into the Catholic faith, and I was wondering if I wanted to go to Easter Mass, even though I usually don't go to church anymore.
"I don't like Easter," Scott said. "I'm not into the dead Jesus."
"He's not dead anymore on Easter," I said. "That's the point."
"I never really got that," Scott said. "I mean, I like Christmas--I get the baby born in the stable. But Easter... I don't relate to that."
"Well," I said, "it's like spring. People who live with four seasons, like we do, should really get it. Everything is dead and then it comes back to life."
"So Jesus is like a lima bean?" Scott said. "Putting out a shoot after being in the frozen ground all winter?"
"That's good!" I said. "Jesus the Lima Bean."
A bit of an oversimplification of Easter, but about as good a definition of "God" as I've heard:
the force that wakes up lima beans in the spring.
[image of sprouting lima bean from Multitasking Mama]