Easter Stories

On Easter Sunday I sat down for a dinner of fish, potatoes, creamed spinach, and pavlova with one of the very gracious families from Whitehouse Presbyterian. I enjoyed my meal, accepted a chocolate Easter egg to take home, and helped them celebrate a birthday, before returning home. Then I finally climbed into bed, setting an alarm for the start of the Cubs’ opener at Wrigley Field.

And now I have sat down to reflect on my experience of Holy Week in Belfast, a week of diverse excitements and down-to-the-wire preparations. Whitehouse gave me something to think about for every day of the week, and on a couple of occasions I had the chance to provoke some thoughts, hopefully.

Palm Sunday: Jesus has entered Jerusalem with glory and Hosannas and striking humility. The Whitehouse youth made preparations for leading the Thursday evening worship service. Then we played games.

Monday: The theme of the evening service was “Perfumes,” in reference to the woman, named in at least one gospel as Mary, who anointed Jesus with expensive perfume. When challenged, Jesus affirmed her actions, suggesting that it is appropriate to anoint the body of a man that is soon to die. Several people from Whitehouse Presbyterian Women spoke about the perfumes they use, with names like “Poison” and “eternity.” I don’t wear perfume, and at the start I found it hard to relate to their reflections. But it occurred to me that I have always had difficulty relating to the story. Judas’ objection is somewhat convincing. Should we not banish luxuries from our lives in a world with such desperate poverty? Hearing the women on Monday night challenged me think of perfumes as a way to affirm the value of self, and as a way to honor others. It becomes more meaningful and valuable than just a nice smell.

Tuesday: The Rwanda team presented on the theme of “Pigeons.” Jesus cleared the temple, including the pigeons, and lamented that his Father’s house had become a den of thieves and robbers. The team explored dramatically the disciples’ responses to Jesus’ alarming actions. Uncertain and fearful, some of them wonder if perhaps Jesus has gone too far this time, a reminder to all of us that following Jesus might mean getting in trouble, and it always means thinking critically about the status quo and the structures that dominate our lives.

Wednesday: I was not raised to have any special appreciation for Billy Graham, but he seems to have earned tremendous respect among British Christians. He produced a short film exploring the meaning of the cross that we screened in Whitehouse and, I think, many other churches did the same. I must say it was well done. Even more compelling than the words of Billy Graham were the testimonies of two young Americans who spoke to the power of the cross to transform a heart. They spoke movingly about liberation, breaking the bonds of sin. They demonstrated that death is always part of the Easter story. Something must die before we can rise again, forgiven and free.

Thursday: The Whitehouse youth group elected to host a Passover dinner for the congregation and so we gave it our very best shot. It didn’t all taste great, but thankfully some of it isn’t supposed to. We explicated each component of the meal, hoping to illumine the story of Jesus’ Passover dinner with his disciples. Appropriately, a lot of the symbolism of the Passover has to do with acknowledging sin in our lives, breaking the bonds that constrain us, and committing ourselves to being better people. I also had an opportunity to portray the disciple John, in conversation with Simon Peter. With prayers and jokes, we reflected on the drama of the past week, wondered at Jesus’ frightening predictions, his reckless actions in the temple, and his tender moments with disciples.

Friday: In the morning I accompanied several folks from Whitehouse to a church up the road, where we met up with other local congregations for the annual community prayer walk. We passed through Protestant, Catholic, and commercial areas, offering prayers for peace and healing at each stop. We appeared at about 9 churches overall, from my memory. In between I had a delightful conversation about sweets with a few of the youth. In the evening was the Tenebrae service, a service of shadows. As we watched a film depiction of the account in the gospel of John, the lights grew dimmer in the church as Jesus approached the cross. Hope seemed to grow dim as well, as we watched God’s blameless son dying because it is a crime to speak the truth, to challenge oppression, to seek peace. And if that is the way of the world then what hope is there?

Saturday: I do not know when the tradition started, but on Easter Saturday the Whitehouse youth stumble through the front doors of the church and unload sleeping bags, pillows, extra clothes and salty snacks. The WhY-F lock-in. It was a great time. We ordered Chinese; we had balloons wars, we attempted gluten-free cupcakes and failed spectacularly. My favorite part was the karaoke, which didn’t get underway until about 1 a.m. At 6:30 a.m. the youth joined the rest of the congregation for the sunrise (Son-rise?) service at hazelbank park. Miraculously, 16 teenagers were awake and singing their praises, celebrating the real miracle of Easter. They were rewarded with breakfast back at the church. We all slept an hour or two before bravely rising for the 11 a.m. service, more singing and more Easter blessings. Joy mingled with exhaustion, and then they all returned home to meditate on the resurrection mystery in their dreams.