An Easter Reflection

'Human's hardwired to believe in a higher power' - screamed the headlines from CNN, part of a multi-part series discussing the existence (or non-existence as some may believe) of God, and His effect on society.
As the season of Lent draws to a close with its call for some personal introspection, a few thoughts swirl through my mind - as I try to comprehend the bigger meaning of all this.
First of all - the big question, why do I believe what I am instructed to believe in.... is it doctrine, is it blind faith - or is it something else altogether. I have asked myself this question many a time, each time trying to nail down an answer. Now to be completely honest, I do make a good attempt to go to church every Sunday (yes, I am a Catholic, and yes - most of the times I am successful in my attempt). But this does not by default make me a good person or a good Catholic. Nearly every religion I know preaches the same ideals on how to lead a good life - be honest, truthful, kind, gentle etc. But then what is it that draws me to Christianity ... personified by one individual, a carpenter's son who lived and died over 2000 years ago.
If he was living today he certainly may not have been my role model, by all standards of the modern world he was not highly educated, did not have a lot of money, and mixed about with the bedraggled type whose company I would prefer to shun. Although many have written books such a 'what would Jesus do' etc. I do suspect that if he was living in the present times he would have been scorned by most - similar to what happened a long time ago. So, if that is the reality, then is there something that attracts me to such a persona? I pondered on this topic over and over for the longest time, trying to rationalize something which maybe inherently irrational. The conclusion would have to have some relevance to me in today's crazy world - it was my faith after all.
The realization that came about was a somber acknowledgement of my relationship with God. My belief stemmed from the very fact, and its historically documented, that someone I did not know - but who may (and if you don't believe - may not) have known me was willing to stand in my stead, be spat on, reviled and mocked by all, and made to carry a heavy cross on his frail shoulders. If that wasn't enough he endured the sheer embarrassment of being stripped naked in front of a public audience, strapped against the very cross he labored across the pathways with and as a cruel grand finale - have a bunch of nails hammered into his wrist and feet and crucified. There, in his final hours hanging in absolute agony if he could find it within himself to be able to forgive everyone who hated him, and be able to bear the brunt of everyone cruelty without uttering a word of rebuke - I am not sure what I could say about the person. He would have to be absolutely insane, or simply love the people he died for so much - that it was unconditional, to the very end. Make no mistake - whether you believe he was God incarnate or not - he died as a man, just like you and me - he did suffer; excruciating pain would have been his only company, compounded with the agony of being left all alone, abandoned by his followers, and scorn poured on him from all.
The end result is that I am left with a burden that cannot be repaid. He knows that I will fail numerous times trying to become a better person, but His love will remain unchanged, His faith in me resolute. For this I have to acknowledge and give Him homage for the person who He was, is and will continue to remain for me until my last breath.