Easter Triumph
It's almost Easter. Like Christmas, Easter in the U.S. is often commercialized. It's all about candy and Easter egg hunts, new clothes and family gatherings. Kids are talking about this year's popular Easter movie, about a bunny that poops Easter eggs. As usual, people who rarely set foot in church often attend on Easter morning. After all, attending church is a large part of the Easter tradition. There is something about the Easter celebration that pulls people back to church, and back to God again.
When I was a girl, I always had a new dress and shoes, and sometimes a hat, to wear for Easter. I wore the same dress nearly every Sunday after that, all summer long. I remember two dresses in particular. The first was creamy white, with large yellow roses all over it. I loved the silky fabric and the full, twirly skirt. Dresses like that were only worn for church and special occasions, so wearing it all day was reserved just for Easter. I remember posing for the requisite Easter pictures, and running and spinning all over Grandma and Grandpa's yard that balmy Easter afternoon. The other dress was made of filmy, teal green fabric, with long scarf-like strips of cloth attached to the shoulders; those strips were meant to be tied loosely in a big bow across my back. I felt like a princess when I wore that dress! I was wearing that dress one evening, probably the following year after it became "last year's Easter dress," while Mom was popping popcorn on the stove. I was seven or eight, but I had to stand on a chair (quickly!) and take over shaking the popcorn pan over the burner because Mom was summoned by the buzzer, and had to dash through the hotel lobby to help a customer. Alas, one of the untied lengths of fabric got too close to the burner and melted. What a putrid smell! I wasn't hurt, and the dress itself was saved, but those wonderful extensions had to be cut off, and the dress lost its magic for me.
When I was growing up, we always dyed a couple dozen eggs on Good Friday or Saturday, and we each hunted through the house on Easter morning to find our Easter baskets, which contained those dyed eggs, along with a few jelly beans and a small chocolate bunny or two. When we lived in Norfolk, we usually ate a traditional Easter dinner of ham or capon (chicken) with Grandma and Grandpa Wegner in Bloomfield. A few years later, Grandma and Grandpa sometimes joined us in Fairbury for Easter; dinner guests there often included many hotel residents who enjoyed the meal of wild turkey or pheasant, mashed potatoes, several salads, and my favorite strawberries with angel food cake and real whipped cream.
Easter clothes and food and Easter baskets were fun, but we knew that they weren't the important part of Easter. When we celebrated Easter, we were celebrating Jesus' death and resurrection! My family always attended church on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, and again on Easter Sunday. The Maundy Thursday service was an evening communion service, commemorating Jesus' Last Supper with His disciples. At the end of the Maundy Thursday service, the front of the church was stripped of everything moveable, and the altar and cross were draped in black in preparation for Good Friday. When I was in fourth grade, we had to have school on Good Friday to make up for too many snow days that year. However, all of the Catholics and Lutherans left school before lunch to attend church. The first Good Friday service began at noon, and lasted until 3:00. The service was scheduled in twenty- or thirty-minute increments, with each part focusing on the different words Jesus spoke while on the cross. The congregation and choirs sang somber hymns like "Go To Dark Gethsemane," and Stricken, Smitten, and Afflicted," and "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." Dan and I, and later, Laura, always sang one of these songs with the Junior Choir, in two part harmony, at Grace Lutheran Church in Fairbury. We didn't have to stay for the entire three hour service, but we usually stayed for at least an hour. On Good Friday evening, we came back to church for the Tenebrae service, also called the Service of Darkness. At the end of that service, the lights were all extinguished, and everyone left the building in silence, remembering Jesus' suffering and death for us.
Then, Easter morning! I loved the sunrise service, which began in a dark sanctuary that sprang to life as the sun came up, and the lights came on, and the Easter lilies were brought to the front of the church along with the banners and altar paraments, and everything else that had been removed on Maundy Thursday. My favorite sunrise services were the ones that happened outdoors in a field or park, with the sun rising in the east as we shivered and shouted "He is risen!" and "He is risen, indeed!" and sang "Christ the Lord is Risen Today." We ate Easter breakfast at church, served by sleepy youth group members, before attending one more jubilant Easter service. Echoes of "I Know that My Redeemer Lives" followed us home:
I know that my Redeemer lives! What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead; He lives, my ever-living head!
He lives, all glory to his name! He lives, my Jesus, still the same;
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives, "I know that my Redeemer lives!"
When I was a girl, I always had a new dress and shoes, and sometimes a hat, to wear for Easter. I wore the same dress nearly every Sunday after that, all summer long. I remember two dresses in particular. The first was creamy white, with large yellow roses all over it. I loved the silky fabric and the full, twirly skirt. Dresses like that were only worn for church and special occasions, so wearing it all day was reserved just for Easter. I remember posing for the requisite Easter pictures, and running and spinning all over Grandma and Grandpa's yard that balmy Easter afternoon. The other dress was made of filmy, teal green fabric, with long scarf-like strips of cloth attached to the shoulders; those strips were meant to be tied loosely in a big bow across my back. I felt like a princess when I wore that dress! I was wearing that dress one evening, probably the following year after it became "last year's Easter dress," while Mom was popping popcorn on the stove. I was seven or eight, but I had to stand on a chair (quickly!) and take over shaking the popcorn pan over the burner because Mom was summoned by the buzzer, and had to dash through the hotel lobby to help a customer. Alas, one of the untied lengths of fabric got too close to the burner and melted. What a putrid smell! I wasn't hurt, and the dress itself was saved, but those wonderful extensions had to be cut off, and the dress lost its magic for me.
When I was growing up, we always dyed a couple dozen eggs on Good Friday or Saturday, and we each hunted through the house on Easter morning to find our Easter baskets, which contained those dyed eggs, along with a few jelly beans and a small chocolate bunny or two. When we lived in Norfolk, we usually ate a traditional Easter dinner of ham or capon (chicken) with Grandma and Grandpa Wegner in Bloomfield. A few years later, Grandma and Grandpa sometimes joined us in Fairbury for Easter; dinner guests there often included many hotel residents who enjoyed the meal of wild turkey or pheasant, mashed potatoes, several salads, and my favorite strawberries with angel food cake and real whipped cream.
Easter clothes and food and Easter baskets were fun, but we knew that they weren't the important part of Easter. When we celebrated Easter, we were celebrating Jesus' death and resurrection! My family always attended church on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, and again on Easter Sunday. The Maundy Thursday service was an evening communion service, commemorating Jesus' Last Supper with His disciples. At the end of the Maundy Thursday service, the front of the church was stripped of everything moveable, and the altar and cross were draped in black in preparation for Good Friday. When I was in fourth grade, we had to have school on Good Friday to make up for too many snow days that year. However, all of the Catholics and Lutherans left school before lunch to attend church. The first Good Friday service began at noon, and lasted until 3:00. The service was scheduled in twenty- or thirty-minute increments, with each part focusing on the different words Jesus spoke while on the cross. The congregation and choirs sang somber hymns like "Go To Dark Gethsemane," and Stricken, Smitten, and Afflicted," and "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." Dan and I, and later, Laura, always sang one of these songs with the Junior Choir, in two part harmony, at Grace Lutheran Church in Fairbury. We didn't have to stay for the entire three hour service, but we usually stayed for at least an hour. On Good Friday evening, we came back to church for the Tenebrae service, also called the Service of Darkness. At the end of that service, the lights were all extinguished, and everyone left the building in silence, remembering Jesus' suffering and death for us.
Then, Easter morning! I loved the sunrise service, which began in a dark sanctuary that sprang to life as the sun came up, and the lights came on, and the Easter lilies were brought to the front of the church along with the banners and altar paraments, and everything else that had been removed on Maundy Thursday. My favorite sunrise services were the ones that happened outdoors in a field or park, with the sun rising in the east as we shivered and shouted "He is risen!" and "He is risen, indeed!" and sang "Christ the Lord is Risen Today." We ate Easter breakfast at church, served by sleepy youth group members, before attending one more jubilant Easter service. Echoes of "I Know that My Redeemer Lives" followed us home:
I know that my Redeemer lives! What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead; He lives, my ever-living head!
He lives, all glory to his name! He lives, my Jesus, still the same;
Oh, the sweet joy this sentence gives, "I know that my Redeemer lives!"
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