Lives of Significance: Where is the Easter Bunny Suit

When attempting to do a church transformation and move a church from dying to growing; from inward focused to outward focused; from self serving to mission oriented; from doing church in ways that they like and starting to realize that the church exists to bring people into the family of God and to help them grow to spiritual maturity; that transformation calls for thinking and doing things differently. It takes some huge changes to move the church from being a member center institution to a movement of God that exists for the people who are not yet there. It is important for the leadership to pick that fights carefully. I haven't always done that.

I had not been at First Christian Church very long before I took on Santa Claus. Don't get me wrong, I like Santa Claus. Over the years he has brought me some really nice stuff. It just I don't like Santa in church. I think the children get more than enough Santa outside of the church. They get Santa at home; in the mall; at school; on television. We suffer from Santa saturation. How about, at church, we emphasize something a little different about Christmas. Call me a fanatic. Call me a fundamentalist. Perhaps you might call me a Christian. But I suggest we emphasize Jesus during Christmas at church. It is just a thought. And I soon discovered it was not a popular thought shared by many. When I insisted that Santa not show up at the church Christmas party one would have thought Jesus turned over in his grave. (Joke – get it?) The proverbial poo-goo hit the fan.

Not only was I accused of being a killjoy and a party pooper, I was charged with being un-American and un-Christian. I was a bad person. I have always wondered what the response would have been if I had left the mention of Jesus out of the Christmas festivities? Honestly, I am not sure it would have been noticed. Little did I know I was in for an emotional beating for ousting Santa from the Church Christmas party. We had, instead, a birthday party for Jesus. We had cake and ice cream and candy and gifts and singing and lots of fun. Just no Santa. We made Jesus the guest of honor. I thought it was a good idea. Still do.

Later, as I gathered more information, I learned that I had not only banned Santa from church, I had demeaned the memory of Byron Rupp. I never met Byron; he died years before I arrived in Harrison, Ohio. But I feel as though I have known him. Byron was the owner of the Harrison Bakery. He was short and round and kind and fun and Byron made the best Santa Claus you can imagine. He loved playing Santa and he was the reason the church had such a long and emotional connection to the jolly old elf. Byron showed up all over town playing the part of Santa. The kids loved him. He was the perfect Santa. So, when I banned Santa, I also banned the spirit of the late Byron Rupp. It was a very emotional issue tied up with years of wonderful memories. I had not just stepped on some toes; I had smacked some people in the face. My bad.

Anyway, Christmas without Santa had set my reputation as a killjoy. It seemed like no time at all and here came Easter. And with Easter, in this particular church, came the Easter Bunny. They had a long tradition of the Saturday before Easter hosting an Easter party and Easter egg hunt along with a visit from the Easter Bunny. Many years earlier they had invested what must have been a substantial sum of money in a very nice Easter Bunny suit. It was huge and zipped up the back. Following the shellacking I took for banning Santa, I quietly endured the invasion of the Easter Bunny, In fact, one year one of my boys filled the suit and entertained the kids. Over the years we did slowly shuffle the Bunny more and more to the sidelines. About three or four years into the deal, the Easter Bunny suit disappeared. Really, we went to find it in the usual storage place and no bunny. We asked around to see if it had been loaned out to someone who had forgotten to return it. No luck. If you belong to a church you know what happened next. The rumors flew.

Guess who was accused of disposing of the Easter Bunny suit? Good guess –if you guessed mister party pooper, yours truly. Of course, this being a church, no one accused me to my face. But the stories rolled back to me. I had sneaked in under the cover of night and made off with the Bunny suit. I was a bad, bunny hating religious fanatic. I am sure some people would have accused me of being leporiphobic if they had had a clue what it meant. (Leporiphobia: An abnormal, persistent fear of rabbits generally and, for some, the Easter Bunny specifically.) For over 15 years I have consistently maintained my innocence. The response to my defense about the bunny suit and several other charges that have been leveled against me over the years have helped me come to understand that one can be innocent of the charges but if someone thinks you did it, there is no way to convince them otherwise – you did it.

Within a year the information came to me that several of my loyal opposition had pooled their resources and purchased a new bunny suit. I never saw the suit. They didn't trust me to be in the same room with it. All of these years and they have kept the "new" bunny suit hidden from the evil, wicked, mean, bad and nasty bunny suit stealer.

I kid you not when I tell you that at my last worship service at the church, someone mentioned that they still wondered what I did with the Easter Bunny suit.

It was at a meeting of the Elders during my last week at the church that the mystery was finally solved for me. We were spending some time wandering down memory lane looking back on my almost 20 years at the church. Lo and behold the story of the Easter Bunny suit came up. As we were laughing about all the stories that had circulated about me and the suit, one of my Elders quietly admitted to the group that she had, in fact, given the suit to the Presbyterians those many years ago. I couldn't believe it. All of those years she had left me holding the bag. When I asked her why she did it she simply explained, "That bunny suit gave me the creeps." End of story. End of mystery.

So, there; I told you I didn't steal your stinking old bunny suit.