As a child I remember sitting through service on Easter Sunday. The longest sermon of the year, although for some reason I was intrigued. Maybe it was because I knew that when I got home a big Easter basket, a few new toys and so much chocolate candy that half of it would see the following Easter was waiting for me at home.

In all of my gluttony on Easter Sunday I never failed to question where my chocolate Jesus was. Where were my chocolate burrow, or palm tree and crucifix? This is what Pastor Bob talked about in his sermon every year. He never mentioned an Easter bunny, or an Easter basket. He never alluded to a biblical Easter egg hunt.

As I would come down from my sugar high and smile proudly at my bounty of found plastic Easter Eggs filled with money and chocolate I no longer cared why, I was just happy it was all mine.

Now I