True Colors

True Colors

If you were given five minutes to address a captured audience of teenagers about the essence of Easter, what would you say?

Our local high school here in Glasgow is getting ready for their Easter assembly, and a close colleague of mine—my husband, the Reverend Dr. John W. Mann—has been asked to deliver a five-minute meditation on this year's theme, "True Colours" (as it is spelled here in Britain), from the song written by Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly and made famous by singer Cyndi Lauper. Here's what John Mann has to say:

"I see your true colours shining through — that's why I love you."

That’s a powerful song. 

It’s not easy to let our true colours show through, especially when we are young. We want to be our own person—to love and be loved—to be an individual. And yet, being part of the group, being loved and accepted by our peers, is most important when we are young.

One day when I was maybe 12 or 13 years old, I was coming home from school and the older kids were coming home from high school. There was this one kid named Timmy, who was a few years older than me, and he was running home from high school. He was being chased by a group of boys. They caught him a block or so from his house and one of the boys—a big guy named David—he gave Timmy a beating.

Timmy was screaming and begging, and David just beat him down.

Why did he do that?

David was a bully and Timmy was a victim.

I knew Timmy all the time I was growing up. He was one of the nicest, kindest people you could ever meet. He was generous, and all he ever wanted of me was to be my friend.

Timmy was gay. In those days that was not an easy thing to be. It was not safe to be gay.

Timmy could have shut himself off in the closet. He could have pretended to be other than who he was. He could have talked a different talk and walked a different walk. But instead of putting himself in a self-imposed prison, he took his chances with life—with the beatings on the way home from school, with the snide and hurtful remarks even from his friends.

All he ever wanted to be was my friend.

I think of my religion and the way that, historically, Christianity has punished people for being different. Still today we have twisted our religion into a conduit of shame and guilt.

But the authentic essence of my religion—the truth that Jesus revealed to the world—is the simple idea that God is love, and love is stronger than death.

That’s basically all Jesus ever did. With every word and every action he showed people: God loves you.

He could have shut himself away in a closet. He could have gone the status quo route—safe and secure, don’t make waves. But Jesus had to be who he was born to be, just like all of us have to be who we are born to be: ourselves to the best of our ability. If we try to be someone else, it will deaden our souls.

That’s a powerful message, and a threatening message too. Jesus was killed for it, for showing that all God wants is to be our friend—to love us as we are.

Easter is about the fact that love is stronger than death. Christ has risen from the dead. Easter is God’s way of saying, You can kill the messenger but you cannot destroy the truth—love is stronger than death. Love will always be stronger than death.

A few years ago a friend of mine made me this rainbow stole that I wear sometimes when I lead worship on a Sunday morning. I wear this as a way of saying to Timmy and to everyone like him who wonders whether or not anyone can love them for who they are, that yes, my friend Jesus and me and a lot of God’s people see your true colours shining through, and you are loved.