What Was All the Celebration About?

 

Easter has passed. The lilies are fading, the last of the pastel eggs have been found, and life returns to “normal.” But I can’t help wondering—what was it all for? The songs, the sunrise services, the cross draped in white—what were we really celebrating?

When the excitement settles, we’re left with a deeper question: What difference does Easter make on an ordinary day?

It all centers on something we don’t talk about much outside church walls—a word that feels big and old: atonement.

What is atonement, really?

Let me try to explain it in the simplest way I can: atonement is the act of making things right when they’ve gone wrong. It’s what bridges the gap between hurt and healing, between justice and mercy. And it’s the heart of the Easter story.

The Bible says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23, ESV). Every one of us has messed up, turned from God, and walked our own way. It’s not just the obvious things like lying, stealing, or hurting others—it’s also the quiet pride, the selfish thoughts, the moments we ignore God.

Sin separates us from God, just like a child running into the street separates themselves from safety. And just like any parent would, God doesn't stand by passively. He moves in love—but also in justice.

“For the wages of sin is death…” (Romans 6:23, ESV). That’s not just physical death. It’s a spiritual death—a deep separation from the life and light we were made for.

But that’s not where the story ends.

 

The Heart of the Cross

God didn’t want us to stay separated. He loves us too much. So He made a way—a costly, breathtaking, undeserved way.

“But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8, ESV)

Jesus came and took our place. He lived the life we couldn’t live—without sin. And He died the death we deserved, taking our punishment on Himself. This is what atonement means. He made things right between us and God.

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.” (1 Peter 2:24, ESV)

It might sound grim—blood, a cross, death. But it’s actually the most beautiful kind of love. The kind that says, “I’ll take the blame so you can be free.” And it didn’t stop at the grave—Jesus rose again, proving that sin and death don’t get the final word.

 

A Goat, a Fence, and a Shepherd’s Voice

Right now, I am thinking for a new addition to our family—a little goat. We’re doing our research, setting up the space, making sure she’ll be safe and healthy. It’s exciting, and a little nostalgic too.

We once had a goat named Samson. He was supposed to be a pygmy, but he grew tall and strong. Despite his size, he was gentle—especially with the kids. He never needed a fence to keep him in. Why? Because he knew us. He trusted us. He played tag in the yard and stayed close because of relationship—not restriction.

I could have put up electric fencing like I once did with steers, but with children around, I didn’t want to risk it. And honestly, I didn’t need to. Samson listened. He responded to our voice.

It struck me—this is exactly how God leads us.

Sure, God sets up boundaries—commands and teachings in Scripture. But they’re not there to punish us or box us in. They’re there to protect us, to keep us from the dangers of the “street,” the harm we don’t always see coming.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Psalm 119:105, ESV)

And more than rules, He invites us into relationship. Like a Shepherd with His sheep. Like a Father with His children. He wants us to trust His voice, to walk with Him, not because we’re forced—but because we’ve come to know His heart.

 

So, Why Did Jesus Have to Die?

It’s a question that lingers for many. Isn’t it all a bit… extreme?

But ask yourself—when someone wrongs you deeply, doesn’t something inside cry out for justice? We might say “It’s okay,” but if the wound is deep, we know something has to be made right.

That’s what God did for us through Jesus. He satisfied the need for justice, not by demanding a payment from us—but by paying it Himself.

That’s not morbid. That’s love. That’s mercy. That’s atonement.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13, ESV)

 

So now that Easter is over, maybe it’s actually just beginning. Maybe it’s time to carry the meaning of the cross into our everyday life—to live in the freedom, forgiveness, and relationship that Jesus died and rose to give us.

Have you trusted His voice? Or are you still wandering near the edge of the road, wondering what it would mean to come close?