Easter Rush

I barely notice the delicate purple violets blossoming on the side lawn or the gently nodding white daffodils with their touch of bright yellow when I walk Sugar this morning. I am focused on the myriad details to attend to in making Easter worship flow smoothly. I am only vaguely aware that the church bells chime not just 7 am, but ring wild chaotic joy in celebration of the day. I could not have told you whether the sky was blue or gray.



In the apartment, there is a flurry of activity as Kiel and Drew and their friends who stayed overnight rush to get out the door, already late from having worked all Friday and Saturday on Easter services at their place of worship. Sugar doesn't know which way to turn as we zip in and out of the bathroom and toss stuff around trying to dress and be on our ways.



The choir met early to nail down the anthem - I had not left enough practice time for us to feel confident and rehearsal is tense as everyone strains to get it under their belt. Lourdes and I had planned a duet for digital keyboard and piano for some time, but had not practiced it together until this morning. We recognize that it will be what it will be and that will have to do - not exactly the way you want to enter service for the most important Sunday of the year!



As I sit on the platform and look out over the congregation - a good full house - I am struck by their faces. How tired and worn out the adults appear! Some faces are actually pale with bags under their eyes. No one is smiling, not even the young girls in their new Easter dresses. They are busy fluffing out their skirts and nervously brushing a stray lock of hair from their eyes. Mothers are sighing and slumping in relief after rushing to get everyone out the door. I know the feeling.



The service is unfolding. During time for the children, the pastor finishes reading them a book, the story of Easter. She asks them to help her pass out eggs - a symbol like the empty tomb that from something seemingly lifeless, new life unexpectedly appears. They jump to their feet, eager to help, careful to make sure everyone gets a plastic egg filled with chocolate goodies, forgetting to be careful of their Easter finery. The children enter into the spirit of the day. Little rustles of happiness begin to eddy and swirl.



But it is not until communion that I see Easter come upon the adults. Perhaps it is appropriate that these weary people have come to the house of God for rest. What better place to feel safe and comfortable than a sanctuary? Surely being rested is something God would want for his children. And once rested, then the offer of a meal taken together with people who are your family. Yes, a celebration worth looking forward to.

How striking the change in visage as the pastor and communion servers stand at the front, each set of servers standing with a young lady between them holding a basket of freshly baked rolls, joyful young girls with their pretty dresses and shiny hair, proud to be asked to help.



As each row of people stands and approaches the front, smiles splay across every single face. Color comes to once gray cheeks, eyebrows lift from their worn furrows. Why are they all suddenly smiling radiantly? Did they just realize that its Easter? Is it the joy of seeing a young person help with communion? Or is there something deeper, some fulfillment of participating in a meal together, of being part of a family, of remembering your roots?


It is as if the sunshine of life suddenly shone brightly on us all and joy returned to mudville. Gone are the burdens of demanding schedules, the heat of senseless arguments, the weight of responsibilities, the anger at having to scurry off to someplace when you would really rather be home in bed sleeping in. Everyone is in the moment, fully participating happily.

In place of angst, the soft mantle of love - of being enfolded in the arms of Christ, and so filled with his love that you can't help feeling good and thinking loving thoughts towards those around you. The transformation is nothing short of miraculous! No amount of eggs, chocolate or otherwise, could ever cause such an effect. Hallelujah!