After Easter: Teaching Children to Seek Christ

Introduction

Easter weekend has come and gone, and the familiar rhythm has played itself out once again. The eggs were scattered across the yard, the children ran with excitement, the baskets were filled, and the candy disappeared almost as quickly as it was found. Yet when the noise settles and the sugar rush fades, a deeper question rises to the surface, one that lingers long after the decorations have been boxed up and the plastic eggs have been stored away. What, exactly, have we taught our children to search for? What desires have we shaped in them? What appetites have we awakened? And what kind of treasure have we placed before their eyes?

The Biblical Metaphor of Searching

Jesus spoke often about searching, but His stories carried a weight far greater than seasonal traditions or childhood games. He described a man who stumbled upon something so valuable that it redefined his entire life. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.” [Matthew 13:44] He also spoke of a merchant whose entire livelihood revolved around discerning value, a man who spent his days searching for pearls, until one day he found a pearl so surpassingly precious that it eclipsed everything else he had ever seen. “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it.” [Matthew 13:45–46]

These stories were not about candy, prizes, or seasonal excitement. They were not about momentary joy or temporary rewards. They were about Christ Himself, the Treasure hidden in plain sight, the Pearl of Great Price whose worth cannot be measured and whose glory cannot be exhausted. Jesus was not calling His followers to a weekend of searching but to a lifetime of seeking. He was not inviting them to a brief moment of excitement but to a continual pursuit of the One who alone satisfies the soul.

The Problem with Cultural Traditions

Yet when we look at the patterns we place before our children, we must be honest about what we are actually teaching them. At Christmas, we tell them to look under the tree. At Easter, we tell them to search for eggs. Throughout the year, we reward behavior with trinkets, treats, and temporary pleasures. Without realizing it, we disciple them into a rhythm of searching for what is fleeting rather than what is eternal. We train them to chase what is hollow rather than what is holy. We hand them empty eggs while Christ offers a tomb that is gloriously filled with resurrection power.

Earthly vs. Heavenly Treasures

Scripture speaks plainly about the difference between earthly treasures and heavenly ones. Jesus warned His disciples with unmistakable clarity: “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven… for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” [Matthew 6:19–21] Earthly treasures fade, break, melt, or disappear. Heavenly treasures endure forever. Earthly rewards satisfy for a moment. Heavenly rewards satisfy for eternity. Earthly searching ends in an empty basket. Heavenly searching ends in a transformed heart.

The Open Invitation to Seek Christ

The world hides plastic eggs in the grass, but the Father does not hide His Son in the same way. He reveals Him openly in the Scriptures, where the prophets, the psalms, and the apostles testify of Him. He reveals Him in creation, where the heavens declare the glory of God. He reveals Him in the quiet tug of the Spirit, who draws the heart toward repentance and faith. The prophet Isaiah issued a timeless invitation that still echoes across the centuries: “Seek ye the LORD while He may be found, call ye upon Him while He is near.” [Isaiah 55:6] The call to seek God is not seasonal. It is not tied to a holiday. It is not dependent on decorations, traditions, or cultural rhythms. It is a daily summons to pursue the One who pursued us first.

Living the Resurrection Daily

Every year, Easter fades. The decorations return to their boxes. The baskets are shoved into closets. Life resumes its ordinary pace. Yet the resurrection was never meant to be a weekend event. It was meant to be the launching point of a lifelong pursuit. The early church did not gather once a year to remember an empty tomb. They lived in the power of the resurrection every single day. Luke records that they “continued stedfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers.” [Acts 2:42] Their lives were marked by continual devotion, continual seeking, continual hunger for the presence of God.

Reclaiming the Search

Somewhere along the way, we traded that daily pursuit for a calendar event and a candy hunt. We replaced the search for Christ with the search for trinkets. We substituted the Pearl of Great Price with plastic eggs. We exchanged the eternal for the temporary, the holy for the hollow, the substantial for the superficial.

Perhaps it is time to reclaim the search. Perhaps it is time to teach our children that the greatest treasure is not hidden in the yard but revealed in the Word. Perhaps it is time to show them that the most valuable pursuit is not for what melts in the sun but for the One who reigns at the right hand of the Father. Perhaps it is time to remind them that the greatest discovery is not found in a basket but in a Savior who stepped out of the grave.

Conclusion

The invitation still stands, as clear and compelling as ever: “Seek the LORD while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near.” [Isaiah 55:6] After the candy is gone and the decorations are boxed up, let us point our families to the only Treasure worth searching for, the only Pearl worth selling everything to obtain, the only Savior who conquered death and offers life everlasting. And may our children grow up knowing that the greatest search of their lives is not for what is hidden in the grass but for the Christ who is revealed in the Gospel, the risen Lord who calls them to Himself with love, truth, and eternal promise.

THE DIGITAL GARDEN: A MODERN PARABLE OF BLAME, BOUNDARIES, AND THE ANCIENT SERPENT

The Story in the News

This week, a story appeared in the news. It is the kind that slips past most people. This happens because it feels ordinary now. A child wandered through the digital wilderness for long hours. When the consequences finally surfaced, the courtroom lights turned toward the platforms that hosted her wandering. The verdict was loud. The headlines were louder. The chorus was familiar: someone else is responsible for what happened in my garden. It is an old song, older than lawsuits and algorithms, older than screens and social feeds. It is the first melody humanity ever sang after tasting forbidden fruit.

The Original Garden and Its Boundary

In the beginning, the garden was simple. God planted it with beauty and purpose, and He placed the man within it to tend and keep it. And God, in His wisdom, established a safeguard. Scripture says, “And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die” (Genesis 2:16-17). The boundary was clear. The command was simple. The safeguard was unmistakable. It was not a fence or a wall. It was a word, a divine line drawn for the protection of innocence.

The Temptation’s Allure

The tree itself was not poisonous. It was not ugly. It was not repulsive. Scripture says, “And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat” (Genesis 3:6). The temptation was not wrapped in darkness but in beauty. It was lovely to look at. It promised wisdom. It offered insight. It held the allure of knowledge. This was the knowledge of good and evil. It was the entire spectrum of human experience condensed into a single bite.

The Digital Parallel

Tell me that does not resemble the glowing rectangles we place into the hands of children today. Tell me that does not mirror the endless feeds of social media. Good and evil swirl together in a single stream. Beauty and corruption sit side by side. Wisdom and foolishness are offered without restraint. The serpent has not changed his strategy. He has simply updated the interface.

The First Human Response: Blame

And when the consequences came in Eden, the ancient instinct awakened. God called to the man and said, “Where art thou?” (Genesis 3:9). Not because He lacked knowledge, but because the man had abandoned his post. And when confronted, Adam did not confess. He deflected. “The woman whom Thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat” (Genesis 3:12). Eve followed the same path. “The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat” (Genesis 3:13). The first human response to sin was not repentance but blame. The man blamed the woman. The woman blamed the serpent. And humanity has been outsourcing responsibility ever since.

Modern-Day Replays

We are watching the same scene replayed in courtrooms today. A child wanders through the digital garden. A parent hands over the device. A platform profits from the wandering. And when the harm surfaces, the finger points outward. The serpent is sued. The tree is examined. The garden is scrutinized. The designer is blamed. Anything but the one who opened the gate.

The Parental Responsibility

It is like a parent purchasing a plane ticket for a child. They pack the bags. They walk the child to the gate. They wave goodbye as the child boards a flight to a city the parent has never visited. The child lands and wanders the streets alone. The child becomes frightened and overwhelmed. Then the parent sues the airline for “transporting a minor.” The airline did not kidnap the child. The parent purchased the ticket. The parent enabled the journey. The parent opened the way. Yet the blame shifts upward, never inward.

The Tree’s Beauty and the Lost Boundary

A lawyer appeared on television this week. He spoke of the platforms’ design as “lovely to look at” and “crafted to draw children in.” He meant it as an indictment of modern technology, but he accidentally quoted Moses. The tree was pleasant to the eyes. The fruit was desirable to make one wise. The temptation was not in its ugliness but in its beauty. And the safeguard was not in the tree but in the command: do not eat.

The garden had a boundary. The home once had boundaries. But in this generation, the boundaries have been erased. We place glowing trees of knowledge into the hands of children and remove every safeguard God once placed around innocence. Then when the consequences come, we seek a payday to ease our guilt and soothe our conscience. We look for settlements instead of repentance. We seek compensation instead of correction. We prefer a judgment that pays rather than a judgment that purifies.

Divine Justice and Accountability

But Scripture says, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?” (Genesis 18:25). The Judge of all the earth does not accept excuses. He does not settle cases with hush money. He does not allow blame to be passed like a hot coal from hand to hand. He weighs motives. He examines hearts. He judges actions, not intentions. “For the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by Him actions are weighed” (1 Samuel 2:3).

Children as Divine Heritage

One truth stands firm. It cannot be litigated away, ignored, or outsourced. It is written in the very breath of Scripture. Children do not belong to the state, the school, the platform, the algorithm, or the culture. They belong to the Lord. Scripture declares, “Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is His reward” (Psalm 127:3). A heritage is not a hobby. A reward is not a burden. A child is not a digital consumer to be managed by corporations. Nor is a child a social media performer to be applauded by strangers. A child is a trust placed in the hands of parents by God Himself.

The Divine Command to Parents

And with that trust comes a command, not a suggestion. Scripture does not say, “If convenient, guide them.” It does not say, “If culture approves, instruct them.” It does not say, “If you have time, shape them.” It says, “Train up a child in the way he should go” (Proverbs 22:6). The verb is active. The responsibility is direct. The assignment is divine. Parents are not permitted to abdicate this calling, nor to hand it over to screens, systems, or artificial intelligence.

The Parental Role in Nurture and Admonition

The Lord did not give the task of training children to devices. He did not give it to algorithms. He did not give it to platforms. He gave it to fathers and mothers. Scripture says, “And ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4). The nurture belongs to the parent. The admonition belongs to the parent. The shaping of the heart belongs to the parent. The guarding of the gate belongs to the parent.

The Reality of Accountability

We cannot sue our way out of the consequences of abdicated stewardship. We cannot litigate our way out of the responsibilities God placed in our hands. We cannot purchase innocence with payouts. We cannot outsource accountability to corporations and courts. The serpent is real. The fruit is tempting. The garden is vulnerable. And the ones entrusted with its care are still accountable before God.

The Judge’s Expectation

The Judge still walks into the garden. He still calls out, “Where art thou?” And He still expects an answer.