He's five, mind you.
Sunday evening, my son and I drove to meet my wife and my daughters in Brenham. They attended a birthday party by invitation. The boy and I got to hang out and do guy things: shoot guns, bows and arrows, play video games, and then ride in my Mustang GT.
On the way home, Kevin, Jr. asked, "Daddy, why did God die?"
Five years old. I thought to myself, "O.K. hotshot. Get your way out of this one."
"Kevin, let's pretend for a minute. Let's say that Daddy told you not to drink Dr. Pepper and play with his Kindle at the same time. But, one day, you decided to do that."
"I'd NEVER do that!"
"I know, son, but let's pretend. Let's pretend that you did anyway, and you spilled Dr. Pepper on my Kindle. The Kindle got broke and wouldn't work anymore. Could you fix it?"
"Who would buy me a new one, then?"
"Do you have any money to do that? Could you buy it for me?"
"No. I couldn't."
"But someone has to pay for it? Who else could pay for it?"
"That's right. I could, and I would. But I would still have to pay for it. If something gets broken, it has to be fixed, and somebody has to pay for it. If you can't pay for it, I can, and I can forgive you. That's what God did on the cross."
"Adam and Eve broke the relationship with God."
"How'd they do that?"
"They didn't listen to God, and they didn't trust God."
"And when they didn't listen to God and trust God, it allowed all the bad stuff to happen in the world. It allowed death; it allowed pain; it allowed sickness. It was bad. And the punishment had to fit the crime. Adam and Eve couldn't fix it. We can't fix it. Adam and Eve couldn't pay for it. We can't pay for it. So, who had to pay for it?"
"That's right. God."