This Easter was probably the most unusual Easter my family and I’ve experienced.
As members of the Eastern Orthodox faith, our Holy Week was last week and our Easter Sunday was Sunday. When my six children were young – and home-schooled – it was easier to attend and participate in all of the services, even though our church was 45 minutes from home.
Today, I have adult children who travel that far each day for work, and our work hours don’t sync up either. Most aren’t even home from work (or are going to sleep for the night) at the time when services start. So attendance can range from sparse to not at all, which is disappointing to us on a level that’s hard to describe.
This year, we tossed a few additional challenges into the mix: family members who were sick (including one battling COVID-19) and family members who were exposed to COVID-19 – which also toppled our plans to visit my oldest daughter (who lives out of state) for Western Easter.
Even making our traditional Easter foods was bittersweet. My children are half Ukrainian (and I’m half Bohemian), and one of my sons actually served on the altar twice – when the Patriarch Filaret of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate celebrated Divine Liturgy in the U.S.
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So the ties we normally feel to friends and family during all these preparations also came with conversations about the Ukraine-Russian war, which causes anxiety in one of my daughters. And that was in addition to our more dichotomous reflections.
For instance, I remember when my oldest son toddled around the church three times during midnight processions for resurrection matins in Sesame Street pajamas with plastic feet. Now at age 40. he must occasionally use a cane to walk.
Some of our family members struggle deeply with finances – and yet contributed generously to our family Easter food fund.
Two loved ones are in separate nursing homes with dementia, and we saw neither of them over Easter – or during the pandemic.
Granted, we didn’t chant and sing “Christ is Risen” with the exuberance of years past. Some of our voices were a bit warbly and croaky, too.
But those who were healthy enough to do so gathered Sunday. And then we delivered food to those who weren’t.
Together physically or together in spirit, we shared our versions of pascha (Easter bread), kielbasa, ham, hrudka (Easter cheese), pirohi, our version of syrnyk (more like a homemade ricotta since I don’t like eggs), fresh fruit and Easter candy.
Just two of my adult children made all of the food. But they’ve been “helping” since they were toddlers.
But it’s because of these challenges, and not in spite of them, that make the repetitious chanting of “Christ is Risen” so triumphant.
Many people, whether or not they belong to an organized religion, associate the Easter season with new life. Theological beliefs aside, those three words of “Christ is Risen” – literally or figuratively – remind us that the celebration of Easter has merit beyond our feelings about it or what activities we can or cannot accomplish in connection with it.
“Christ is Risen” reminds us that difficulties are temporary and something greater than us, something good, extends beyond us and will outlast us.
“Christ is Risen” reminds us that Easter, while about us, also is more than just about us.
“Christ is Risen” brings hope that peace will eventually follow tribulation.
“Christ is Risen” gives solid assurance of the eternal value of life and love.
Denise M. Baran-Unland is the features editor at The Herald-News. Contact her at 815-280-4122 or dunland@shawmedia.com.