Note: This post was originally published on April 18, 2014.

I remember learning that Santa Claus was not real. But somehow, I clung to Christmas as a special time. Still do. I used to go to a Presbyterian church across the street from my house in Jersey. I didn’t go often, maybe a few times a year. After going to church a few times I realized they really didn’t notice me much. A kid in a Presbyterian church all by himself is like an ant underneath the feet of an elephant herd. They just didn’t seem to notice I was there. I even came in a new pale blue Easter suit that my mother had bought me, just for church. I don’t recall going to Easter services again. I only knew the minister, he was a nice guy. Always shook my hand at the back of the church. Took me fishing one time with his sons. Seemed like a great guy. But no one else took notice of me. I understand, I was just a kid.

It would be quite a few years later that I would learn that Easter wasn’t all it was cracked up to be either. In fact, I was a bit shocked to find out the origins of Easter. It didn’t seem to have much to do at all with Christ. So why did so many people make a fuss over Christmas and Easter? I don’t really know. Maybe they felt some obligation to go to church at those times. Maybe they thought more people would be at church and so they should attend as well. Whatever the reason, they came to church at Christmas and Easter. Someone gave them the name, CEO Christians. Christmas and Easter Only.

I see no reason to name our services as Easter or Christmas services. But I see no reason to ignore those folks who might stop in at Christmas or Easter either. In fact, I go out of my way to recognize and welcome those folks who may show up during a holiday season. It may be the only time they attend church. Just like my experience many years ago, it might be the last time they attend a church.

Arguably, the two most important events in the life of Christ are His birth and death/resurrection. This weekend, one of those events is commemorated in churches across the land. I’m going to be in one of them. I’m not a CEO, but I might be a cracked egg. And I’ll be shaking hands with other cracked eggs.