Jesus was big, like really big. Take and eat; really, it was but crumbs from His little finger, the blood just a drop. When carrying the cross, He actually rivaled Paul Bunyon in size.

They don’t talk about it in Children’s Church—they really are too small to understand—everything feels big to them—but the cave where they put Him was awful big too.

They tried to wrap Him in linen for a single person, but it was not enough; they reopened neighboring tombs and unwrapped the bodies, leaving the skeletons cold. When they had enough cloth to wrap Big Jesus’ body three times, they slid Him inside—no room to stand—and sealed the entrance.

By the time Big Jesus rose and rolled away the stone, the skeletons had also risen and held vote: unanimously, they liked being outside and did not want to return to their resting places.