An Easter Tale:

My favorite Easter story*:

Three Italian men die on the same day, at the same time, in a fiery car crash just south of Palermo… and all wind up at the pearly gates the same instant.

St. Peter looks at his watch then at the books and shakes his head. “Too late in the afternoon to let anybody else in. We’re booked up. You three have to go back.”

They protest of course, because you never know what you’ll be if they send you back. For God’s sake you could be a Zebra, or worse a rattlesnake, or worse yet, a Southern Baptist Preacher. They had even heard one man returned as a Republican. Fear gripped their souls.

“Signore please. You help us, No?” said one man.

Peter looked around and shrugged. “Okay. I will ask each of you a question. The first one who answers it correctly gets into the Kingdom. But…but the other two must return to Earth. Understood?”

The three little men looked at each other and then nodded.  They were in agreement with the conditions.

“Oaky, number one, step forward.  What is Easter?” asked Saint Peter looking over his glasses.

The man squirmed a bit then spoke in a nasally vice. “Signore, that is the time when the little boys and girls rush from a de house to de house and ask for tricks or for a treats.”

No. No. No.” Said St. Pete.  “That’s Halloween.  “Next.”

A sheepish small man with suspenders stepped forward. “Si.”

“Can you tell me what Easter is?”

“Signore that is easy. It is the time when the Indians dey feeda da pilgrims with pumpkin and cranberries and de wild turkeys…”

“Noooo!  That’s Thanksgiving. Go to the back of the line. You. Number three. Step up here. Can you tell me what Easter is?”

The skinny man who barely kept his pants up, slumped his boney frame over and thought. Then he nodded. “Signore. Si. Dat is the time dey takea my lord and savior Jesus Christ and dey hang a him on a rugged old cross.  A nail in each of his scarred hands.  He a dies up there on de cross and dey take a him down, wrap him in cloth and place him in a dark cave.  Then after a three days, the big a stone, it’s a rolled away and Jesus, he a steps out into the light…and if he see his a shadow, we have a six amore weeks of de winter…”

Regardless your theology…have a good Easter.  See y’all next week…No blog on Sunday.

*Dedicated to the good men and women of Westboro Baptist Church.