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 Frozen Chosen: A Prophetic Editorial to the Body of Believers

“By Now You Ought to Be Teachers” — The Divine Indictment

The modern church is filled with believers who have mastered the art of showing up without ever truly growing spiritually. They attend services faithfully, sing with enthusiasm, and serve occasionally, yet they remain unchanged in their spiritual maturity. These are the saints who occupy the church building but never embrace the deeper promises of faith. They are what I call the “frozen chosen.”

The Spirit addressed this condition long ago, warning believers through the words of Hebrews: “For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God” (Hebrews 5:12). This is not a gentle suggestion but a stern rebuke.

The Lord is essentially saying that you have been part of the church long enough to grow, to mature, and to reproduce spiritually. You should be teaching others by now. Yet, instead, you still require someone to reteach you the basics repeatedly. This confusion of longevity with maturity is the tragedy of the frozen chosen.

The Highchair Church: When Milk Becomes a Lifestyle

Paul’s words to the Corinthians express a similar frustration: “I have fed you with milk, and not with meat” (1 Corinthians 3:1–2). Milk represents the beginning stages of faith, while meat symbolizes spiritual growth and maturity.

Unfortunately, many believers have made milk their permanent diet. They seek comfort without conviction, blessings without burden, inspiration without obedience, and sermons without surrender. They grow older in the church but not deeper in Christ. A church filled with believers who refuse to develop spiritually will never be able to fully digest the truth.

The Immaturity That Weakens the Witness

Paul warns the Ephesians about the dangers of spiritual immaturity: “That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro” (Ephesians 4:14). Immature believers are easily swayed by trends, follow personalities rather than Christ, fall for false teachings, get offended quickly, and require constant supervision.

Such believers cannot stand firm because they have never learned to walk in faith. They cannot discern truth because they have never learned to listen to the Spirit. They cannot lead because they have never learned to follow Christ. A church filled with spiritual children cannot confront the mature darkness of the world.

The Mission Failure: When the Church Refuses to Go

At the heart of this editorial lies a deeper issue: the church has failed its mission. Jesus did not command believers to sit and wait, stand in one place, or hope that people would come to them. Instead, He said, “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations” (Matthew 28:19) and “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel” (Mark 16:15).

The mission is to go, not to stay; to make disciples, not merely maintain programs; to teach, not tolerate; to preach, not preserve. We are called to be living stones (1 Peter 2:5), lights in the world (Matthew 5:14), salt of the earth (Matthew 5:13), witnesses unto Him (Acts 1:8), and ambassadors for Christ (2 Corinthians 5:20).

Yet many believers have become stationary stones, dim lights, flavorless salt, silent witnesses, and passive attendees. We change pastors, churches, worship styles, and programs, but we rarely change our posture. Discipleship demands action and commitment.

We desire salvation without surrender, calling without cost, and purpose without participation. But Jesus said, “Why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” (Luke 6:46). Hearing without doing is not discipleship; it is self-deception. “Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves” (James 1:22).

A church that refuses to go is a church that refuses to grow.

The Illusion of Progress Without Transformation

Many congregations mistake activity for advancement. They celebrate anniversaries, programs, conferences, installations, and renovations, but none of these guarantee true transformation.

Jesus did not say, “By this shall all men know you are My disciples—that you attend faithfully.” Instead, He said, “Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit” (John 15:8).

A church can be busy yet barren, full yet fruitless, loud yet lifeless. If the people are not growing, the ministry is not succeeding.

The Lampstand Warning: When God Removes What Man Preserves

The Lord Jesus gives a final warning to churches that refuse to mature: “Repent… or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place” (Revelation 2:5). The lampstand symbolizes God’s presence, approval, witness, and authority.

A church may hold onto its building, programs, traditions, and calendar, but if it refuses to grow, God will remove its lampstand. He will not endorse immaturity, empower stagnation, or anoint apathy.

A frozen church is only one step away from becoming a forsaken church.

A Resolution for the Body of Believers

Let every believer hear the Word of the Lord: “By now you ought to be teachers.” Growth comes quickly to those who pour out what God has placed within them. The whole concept of sowing and reaping applies to doing the work of the ministry. Do not be a perpetual student, lifelong infant, or spiritual dependent. Leave the Father’s house and go to work in the field.

Resolve to grow beyond milk, hunger for meat, go into the world, preach the gospel, teach the nations, shine as lights, live as witnesses, obey the Word, and bear lasting fruit.

For the Spirit is speaking to the churches: “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches” (Revelation 2:7), before the lampstand is removed.

WHAT MUST COME DOWN BEFORE GOING UP

A Resurrection Reality Check for a Farcical Season

The Rhythm of Descent and Ascent

There is a rhythm woven into the Kingdom of God that the world cannot imitate and religion cannot counterfeit. It is the rhythm of holy descent followed by God‑given ascent, the pattern of a God who steps down so that He may raise the humble up. Heaven’s gravity works in reverse. What comes down in God’s hands does not remain down, because the Lord delights in lifting the lowly. Before anything rises in the Kingdom, something must bow. Before anything is exalted, something must kneel. Before anything goes up, something must come down.

This is not punishment but posture. It is the way of Christ, the way of the cross, and the way of every saint who has ever been raised by the power of God.

The Pattern of Humility from the Beginning

Moses came down from the mountain carrying the Word, the covenant, and the revelation of God’s character. “When Moses came down from Mount Sinai… the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” (Exodus 34:29). Yet Israel did not rejoice in what came down. They were too busy worshiping what they had lifted up, a golden calf of their own making. Humanity has always preferred what ascends when we are the ones climbing. We build towers, chase platforms, exalt ourselves, and admire the view from the top.

But God overturns this instinct. The Kingdom begins with going down, not in defeat but in humility, not in shame but in surrender, not in weakness but in obedience.

The Descent of Christ: The Model of All Humility

Jesus did not descend because He was defeated. He descended because He was humble. “Though He was in the form of God, He did not consider equality with God something to cling to, but emptied Himself… He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6–8). He came down from glory, laid down His rights, bowed down in obedience, and humbled Himself for our sake. His descent was not accidental but intentional. Because He went down in humility, the Father raised Him up in glory. “Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name.” (Philippians 2:9).

This is the law of the Kingdom: what bows low is lifted high.

Paul: Struck Down to Be Raised Up

Paul understood this truth because he lived it. He was the rising star of Judaism, educated, disciplined, respected, and zealous. Yet when Christ appeared, Paul had to be struck down before he could truly see. He fell to the ground, blinded and helpless. “He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’” (Acts 9:4). Every accomplishment he once boasted in, he now called loss. “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” (Philippians 3:8).

Paul discovered that humility is not the lowest place but the safest place. It is the beginning of resurrection.

The Descent and Ascent of Jesus

Jesus came down from the cross lifeless and wrapped in linen. He went down into the grave sealed and guarded. He went down into the depths, into the territory hell believed it owned. “He also descended into the lower parts of the earth.” (Ephesians 4:9). Every downward step looked like loss, yet in the Kingdom, down is never the destination. It is the doorway.

The same Jesus who descended also rose. He went up the hill, up the mountain of transfiguration, up out of the grave, and up into heaven. “He was taken up, and a cloud received Him out of their sight.” (Acts 1:9). He will one day raise His people with Him. “He raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 2:6).

This is the divine reversal: what comes down in humility must go up in glory.

The Farce of Our Seasonal Jesus

Every year the church calendar reenacts the same tragic cycle. In December, Christ is placed back in the cradle—small, harmless, and sentimental. In spring, He is placed back in the tomb—tragic, noble, and safely contained. Then the props are packed away, the pageantry folded, and life returns to normal.

We reenact His birth, His death, and His burial, but we rarely reenact His reign. We do not enthrone Him, crown Him, or place Him at the center of our will. We keep Christ in the cradle because a baby makes no demands. We keep Christ in the tomb because a dead man issues no commands. But a risen, reigning Christ requires surrender.

We treat the resurrection as a holiday rather than a hierarchy, as a story rather than a sovereign, as a symbol rather than a King. This is why the calendar feels farcical: it keeps Christ rotating through roles He has already outgrown. He is not the baby in the manger, the victim on the cross, or the body in the tomb. He is the Head of the Church, the Lord of Glory, and the One seated far above all rule and authority.

Israel made the same mistake with the ark. They carried the ark on their shoulders, proud of their proximity to God, but they never embraced the God within the ark. They carried Him, but they never let Him carry them. We do the same. We carry Jesus into our holidays, traditions, and services, but we do not let Him carry our will, our obedience, or our lives.

The Real Resurrection Direction

The resurrection does not point down to the cradle, back to the cross, inward to our emotions, or outward to our traditions. The resurrection points up to the enthroned Christ who reigns now. The only way to rise with Him is to bow before Him. “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.” (1 Peter 5:6).

Humility is not the end of the journey but the beginning of resurrection. It is the doorway into the Kingdom. The proud cannot enter because the doorway is too low. The humble rise because they kneel.

A Call to Yield to the Risen King

Time is growing short, and the hour demands clarity. Christ is not waiting to be rediscovered in a cradle or reburied in a tomb. He is not a seasonal figure to be lifted up for a holiday and set aside when the calendar turns. He is the risen and reigning Lord, seated at the right hand of the Father, calling His people to bow before Him in humility and truth. The path upward begins with the posture downward. The Kingdom does not rise on the strength of the proud but on the surrender of the humble.

The psalmist understood this long before the empty tomb. “My heart is not proud, O Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother.” (Psalm 131:1–2). This is the posture of ascent. This is the doorway into resurrection life. This is the heart God lifts.

Let us therefore lay down our pride, our self‑importance, our insistence on carrying Christ on our shoulders while refusing to let Him carry us. Let us bow low before the One who descended in humility and rose in glory. Let us yield our will to the King who reigns, so that in due time He may lift us up. What comes down must go up, because the One who calls us to kneel is the same One who raises His people to stand with Him in the heavenly places.

Why is the Tent of Meeting Pitched Outside of the Camp?

WHEN GOD HONORS DISTANCE

There are moments in Scripture when the presence of God withdraws from the center of the people and takes up residence somewhere else. These moments are not random, nor are they mysterious. They are diagnostic. They reveal the spiritual condition of a people who have grown comfortable with distance, casual with holiness, and careless with the very presence that once defined them.

One of the earliest and clearest examples appears in Exodus, when the Tent of Meeting—God’s appointed place of encounter—was moved outside the camp. The people had chosen distance over intimacy, safety over surrender, and mediation over meeting. They told Moses, “Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die.” (Exodus 20:19, KJV) and God honored their request. The Tent was placed beyond the borders of their daily life, a silent testimony that the people preferred a God who stayed at arm’s length.

This is not merely history. It is a pattern. And patterns, once established, repeat themselves across generations.


THE ARK IN PHILISTINE HANDS: WHEN THE HOLY IS TREATED AS COMMON

Generations later, the Ark of the Covenant—the very symbol of God’s presence—found itself not merely outside the camp but in the hands of the Philistines. Israel had carried it into battle as a lucky charm, assuming God would honor their presence even though they had not honored His. They shouted, they celebrated, they presumed, but they did not repent. And God allowed the Ark to be taken.

When the holy is treated as common, God will let it be carried away.

The Philistines, terrified by the plagues that followed, eventually returned the Ark on a new cart pulled by oxen. Israel watched this. They saw it “work.” And because the Word had been neglected for so long, the method of the world became the model for the people of God. The Ark came home on a cart, and no one questioned it. The pattern of the Philistines became the pattern of Israel.


DAVID’S HALFHEARTED ATTEMPT: PASSION WITHOUT CONSECRATION

When David finally rose to the throne, he desired to restore the Ark to its rightful place. His heart was sincere. His passion was real. His intentions were noble. But sincerity is not obedience, and passion is not consecration.

David placed the Ark on a cart—the very method the Philistines had used—and began the journey with music, celebration, and enthusiasm. But enthusiasm cannot sanctify disobedience.

When the oxen stumbled and Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark, he touched what God had declared untouchable. The command had been clear: “They shall not touch any holy thing, lest they die.” (Numbers 4:15, KJV). Uzzah’s reflex was natural, but it was forbidden. His intentions were good, but they were irrelevant. The holy does not bend to human logic.

David was devastated. But the failure was not in God’s severity; it was in Israel’s neglect. The Ark was never meant to ride on a cart. It was meant to rest on consecrated shoulders.


THE NEGLECTED WORD: WHEN KNOWLEDGE IS LOST THROUGH DISUSE

David later confessed the truth: “The Lord our God made a breach upon us, for that we sought him not after the due order.” (1 Chronicles 15:13, KJV). The due order had been written for generations, but no one had practiced it.

The priests had the title but not the consecration. They had the lineage but not the sanctification. They had the garments but not the obedience. The Word had been neglected, and when the Word is neglected, the holy becomes mishandled.

This is the cost of spiritual drift. When the presence is outside the camp, the people stop meeting with God. When they stop meeting with God, they stop hearing His voice. When they stop hearing His voice, they stop obeying His commands. And when they stop obeying His commands, they begin to do what is right in their own eyes.


THE UNCONSECRATED PRIESTHOOD: TITLES WITHOUT SANCTIFICATION

Before the glory of the Lord ever filled the Tabernacle or the Temple, there had to be a consecrated priesthood. God does not pour His presence into unsanctified vessels. He does not rest His glory on common shoulders. He does not entrust holy things to unconsecrated hands.

The priests had to wash, to anoint, to sanctify themselves, to be set apart for the work of the Lord. This cost more than education. It cost more than training. It cost more than a seminary degree. It cost their lives on the altar.

The modern church has forgotten this. We have ministers trained by institutions patterned after the world, credentialed by committees, affirmed by men, but not set apart by God. We have leaders who can preach but cannot carry the presence, who can teach but cannot tremble, who can administrate but cannot intercede.

And congregations suffer for it.


THE DYING CONGREGATION: WHEN THE COMMON TOUCHES THE HOLY

Uzzah was not wicked. He was not rebellious. He was not immoral. He was simply common. And the common cannot carry the holy.

This is why so many congregations today are spiritually numb, spiritually dry, spiritually stagnant. They are being led by people who have never been set apart, who have never sanctified themselves, who have never presented themselves as living sacrifices.

Paul writes, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.” (Romans 12:1, KJV).

Worship is not a mood. It is not a playlist. It is not a warm‑up act. It is a presentation. It is the offering of the self. It is the posture of a priesthood.

Peter echoes this when he writes, “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5, KJV).

Acceptable worship has a posture. It has a cost. It has a consecration.


THE CASUAL WORSHIPER: EXPECTING GOD TO HONOR OUR PRESENCE WHILE WE DO NOT HONOR HIS

We treat worship casually because we have forgotten that worship is an offering. We walk into the sanctuary unprepared, unrepentant, unpresented, and then expect God to honor our presence while we do not honor His.

We come to church with no intention of meeting with the Lord, yet we expect the Lord to meet with us simply because we showed up. We leave the same way we came because we never placed anything on the altar. And if nothing is placed on the altar, nothing can be consumed by fire.

Hebrews declares, “Let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear.” (Hebrews 12:28, KJV).

Reverence is not optional. Awe is not outdated. Holiness is not negotiable. The presence of God is not managed; it is honored.


A CALL TO REPENTANCE: WHEN THE HOUSE OF GOD RETURNS TO THE LORD

If judgment begins anywhere, it begins with us. Peter writes, “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God.” (1 Peter 4:17, KJV).

We have treated worship as routine rather than meeting, approached the sanctuary casually, and expected God to honor our presence while offering Him none of the reverence, surrender, or obedience He requires.

But the Lord has not left us without a remedy. He has given us a path—ancient, tested, and sure—a path that leads from distance to nearness, from judgment to mercy, from drought to rain, from absence to glory. It is the path of repentance.

The Lord spoke it plainly to Solomon after the dedication of the Temple: “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14, KJV).

For those longing to see the glory return, the roadmap already exists. My devotional From Ichabod to Glory traces this very journey—from the departure of God’s presence to its restoration.


A PRAYER FOR MERCY, CONSECRATION, AND THE RETURN OF HIS PRESENCE

Lord, we come before You not as spectators but as a people in need of cleansing. We humble ourselves beneath Your mighty hand. We confess that we have treated Your presence lightly, approached Your sanctuary casually, and honored You with our lips while our hearts remained far from You.

Forgive us, O Lord.

Restore to us the fear of the Lord. Restore to us the weight of Your Word. Restore to us the reverence that once marked Your people. Cleanse our hands. Purify our hearts. Sanctify our motives. Set apart our lives for Your glory.

We seek Your face, not Your benefits. We seek Your presence, not Your platforms. We seek Your glory, not our comfort.

Hear us from heaven. Forgive our sin. Heal Your church. Let Your presence return to the midst of Your people.

Amen.