I have celebrated Easter my whole life. Even as a child, our family always got dressed up in our Easter Sunday best, and went to church to celebrate the resurrection of Christ. Yet somehow, here at nearly thirty-two years of age, I feel I have experienced my first Easter. I am moved like never before, and have such a deep sense of what that very first “Easter” was all about.
It is my first Orthodox Easter. It is Friday evening, and the church is quiet and sad. A cloud of grief hangs over us, and many people place flowers at the front of the church near the cross. I know what is coming, yet I feel unprepared for what will happen. Sorrow fills our hearts as we wait to begin our solemn ceremony. This is so different than the relatively light-hearted ceremonies in the Protestant churches which I grew up in. Somehow time and eternity meet here, and the result is “remembering” the crucifixion in a way that pierces my soul.
First, we remember the crucifixion of Christ. I see my Saviour hanging on the cross, and the reality of what He did for us crashes down on me. The songs tell the story, and beautifully express the deep theology of what God accomplished through His precious Son, on our behalf. “Conquering death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life”. What kind of love is this? It is Love that saw us fallen, and reached down to “raise us up again”.
We witness the sorrow of the disciples, and of the Blessed Mother of God. After all has been accomplished, and Christ has cried out his last, He is taken down off the cross and wrapped in a shroud. There is an icon of Christ in the tomb, which we then carry around the church in a funeral procession. The icon is placed near the altar, and we all go to it and place flowers on it. We kiss the body of our precious Lord, and go back to our seats. My heart is filled with grief and overwhelming love.
The evening is solemn, and much deeper than any Easter ritual I have ever seen. There is nothing empty or boring about it, and I have a sense that it will only deepen with meaning after ten, twenty or fifty years of being part of the Orthodox faith. This night holds a special significance for me. In the morning, I will be baptized into Christ and into His church. I am witnessing what He suffered and accomplished on behalf of humankind, and I realize that it is only because of His Passion, that I am able to partake of Life again.
On Saturday morning, I am ready and filled with anticipation. I have been longing for this moment, and I feel like a bride waiting to be joined to her dearest Love. The baptismal ceremony in the Orthodox Church is vastly different than in the Protestant churches I had attended in the past. I have a deep sense of my unworthiness of being inscribed into Christ, yet my heart is overflowing with thanksgiving and joy at being redeemed by the only One who could conquer death. I can understand now why Baptism was historically performed during Pascha. It is the fulfillment of what Christ accomplished for us. The “fullness” of what being a “Christian” really means is just beginning to become a reality for me.
I am deeply moved by the cries of Hades when it realizes that the One it sought to put to death has conquered Death itself. The words are powerful, and teach more theology in a few verses, than I learned in twenty years of Sunday school and church.
Baptism is all I hope for and more. It truly is salvation. Our salvation from death; it is a new life within the Life of Christ. I weep as I am raised up into that new life, and I know that what is taking place is truly a heavenly mystery. It is not only a beautiful tradition, something merely “symbolic”, nor is it simply a public confession of a personal commitment, but it is reality; an existential change taking place within my body. I've never felt something was more “real” than this. All things of earth pale in comparison with this mystical reality.
After the Baptism and Chrismation have been performed, we all leave the church. In the Orthodox tradition, Easter Sunday begins in the afternoon on Saturday, which is the beginning of the new day. We gather back at the church around 8:30pm on Saturday evening. This is what we have been waiting for. We listen to the songs about the women going to the tomb to anoint the body of Christ, only to be greeted by the angel who asks, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” What begins as a mournful lament, quickly turns into rich and joyful celebration. Our beloved Lord Jesus is not in the tomb! He has risen. Our Lord is alive! He has risen, and breathed Life into us again! What possible darkness or threat can this life hold when Christ has conquered the power of Death? I weep with joy that He is alive and in our midst.
After forty days of fasting during Great Lent, we are ready to eat. Father Jonah gives the invitation to all who have fasted, but not only to those who have kept the fast, but also to those who have arrived late, or even neglected to keep the fast at all. This invitation is yet another display of God's great mercy and love for all of mankind. The lamb has been prepared and the food is ready. The great feast can begin. It is clearly not just another church dinner! The word “potluck” could never do this justice. Rather, it is an outpouring of celebration and joy. It is participation in the gift of Life. As food sustains our physical life, so Christ's Life sustains our spirit by His Spirit.
I feel as if the scales have fallen from my eyes. The Truth I have so long been seeking has revealed Himself to us. “Easter”. “Pascha”. I now understand much better that we participate in the whole Easter celebration, not only once a year, but weekly, and even daily, as we partake of Christ's death and resurrection. What Love is this! Christ is risen! Truly, He has!