A Messy Easter
I grew up with a different Easter than I possess now. Like all elements of life and life's celebrations, we add to our experiences, hopefully deepening the meaning as we grow.
Hopefully.
When I grew up, Easter was simple. Actually, so many things were simple. We were quiet farm people, living in a quiet community, attending a tiny church. Social media didn't demand a specific response to Easter. Pinterest didn't direct our celebration or inspire complicated meals, beautifully decorated cakes or fabulous table decor.
For us, Easter resulted in getting up Sunday morning, going to church, singing our hearts out to the traditionally always-sung "Christ Arose", "Christ The Lord Is Risen Today" and "He Lives". Can I get an amen as to how meaningful (and difficult to sing!) those songs are?!! Wow, we sang so hard. Heaven came down.
We'd go home after church, eat dinner, hunt a few foil-covered eggs and go for a walk or drive through the bush, depending on the weather.
Mom always made Easter buns and pickled eggs. Her Easter buns are different than the ones that I make - hers are lemony sweet raisin buns (or bread) with a vanilla glaze. Mine are lemon/orange, also glazed. Same premise but different.
I moved away to college and was involved with my first Easter musical/drama that our college performed in Saskatoon and P.A. My role - the pianist.
A few years later after I had made P.A. my home, our church presented an Easter Cantata (musical/drama) for many years. My role - the pianist, and eventually the choir director. The cantata. Oh my. The memories we have. They were the best of times, they were the worst of times - only in that it was very demanding and took so much preparation time. We were a cast of around 80 or more - actors, choir, behind the scenes. We sewed the costumes and had choir practises and they took time to figure out just how hard they should appear to beat Jesus so that it would look real but not hurt him too much in reality. There are some inside jokes that are funnier now in the re-telling, funnier with each year that passes. The men all turned silly when they donned their historically accurate (we hoped) gown costume. The women all cried sincere tears when Mary leaned over her son, Jesus, and wept at his death. "Oh, the blood of Jesus". We played to overflowing audiences year after year.
Somewhere in there, it came to my attention that people get together for family dinners on Easter Sunday and apparently they eat feasts of ham and potatoes or turkey dinners - with all the family and with all the fixings. And I also heard that people buy Easter gifts for their kids. I didn't know this. Easter was never about this for me when I grew up.
Easter has been about the resurrection of Jesus. The Hope of glory.
Years now after the Cantata and after becoming aware of these family dinner ideas, I am coming into my own as to what celebrating Easter is. I've developed my own traditions.
We might not hide the eggs but we still buy the candy. If I'm home, I enjoy making a celebratory meal (it's always about the food!) at some point during the weekend, not necessarily Sunday. If I'm working, I love attempting a work potluck so that we can still know this day is special even if we're away from our people. I love songs of worship for Easter and Easter Sunday morning worship is my favourite of the year - they're songs of victory, songs of overcoming. I want this, I like this.
And I like to make Paska. I stumbled on this recipe many years ago over at Mennonite Girls Can Cook - Paska has become a tradition for me and is a family favourite. I love to bake it. I love to eat it. I REALLY love to share it. If batch #1 flops, I'll make batch #2. I might make 3 batches "just because" it's so so good. I talked with my mom last weekend and she hinted (quietly loud) - wondering if we 'happened to be coming to Saskatoon any time soon' and was 'wondering if you're making your Paska this year because YOURS is better than mine'. She said that.
So I got up yesterday and decided it was "the day" to bake at least 2 batches. I prepared batch #1 without a hitch and eagerly started batch #2.
Not even 5 minutes into the prep for batch #2, as I was cutting through orange and lemon peels, my knife slid through my thumbnail and thumb tip right into the cutting board. I knew immediately that it wasn't great.
And what do I do now? I CAN'T STOP MAKING PASKA JUST FOR THIS!
I managed to get help to get a good bandage on the thumb and it seemed only right that I finish the batch. <cross eyes here>.
So, pretty much one handed, I mixed the ingredients, kneaded the dough, let the dough rise and panned the buns.
My thumb throbbed. I felt a little bit sorry for myself. Wickedly clumsy from working with one hand, my big stainless steel bread bowl hit the floor, twice, scattering flour ALL. OVER. My panning attempts were awkward with only one dependable hand. I was a greasy mess. I was a floury mess. I was sore. And increasingly tired. There was a huge stack of dishes and pans in the sink, waiting to be done.
I wanted a picture of beautiful buns.
But this was what I had to show for my labours at the end of the day.
I can't help but think that there's a correlation to the depth of Easter here.
But Easter was messy.
It seems we cannot have victory until we've had the battle.
A timely reminder for Easter week.
A timely reminder for us all.
Hopefully.
When I grew up, Easter was simple. Actually, so many things were simple. We were quiet farm people, living in a quiet community, attending a tiny church. Social media didn't demand a specific response to Easter. Pinterest didn't direct our celebration or inspire complicated meals, beautifully decorated cakes or fabulous table decor.
For us, Easter resulted in getting up Sunday morning, going to church, singing our hearts out to the traditionally always-sung "Christ Arose", "Christ The Lord Is Risen Today" and "He Lives". Can I get an amen as to how meaningful (and difficult to sing!) those songs are?!! Wow, we sang so hard. Heaven came down.
We'd go home after church, eat dinner, hunt a few foil-covered eggs and go for a walk or drive through the bush, depending on the weather.
Mom always made Easter buns and pickled eggs. Her Easter buns are different than the ones that I make - hers are lemony sweet raisin buns (or bread) with a vanilla glaze. Mine are lemon/orange, also glazed. Same premise but different.
I moved away to college and was involved with my first Easter musical/drama that our college performed in Saskatoon and P.A. My role - the pianist.
A few years later after I had made P.A. my home, our church presented an Easter Cantata (musical/drama) for many years. My role - the pianist, and eventually the choir director. The cantata. Oh my. The memories we have. They were the best of times, they were the worst of times - only in that it was very demanding and took so much preparation time. We were a cast of around 80 or more - actors, choir, behind the scenes. We sewed the costumes and had choir practises and they took time to figure out just how hard they should appear to beat Jesus so that it would look real but not hurt him too much in reality. There are some inside jokes that are funnier now in the re-telling, funnier with each year that passes. The men all turned silly when they donned their historically accurate (we hoped) gown costume. The women all cried sincere tears when Mary leaned over her son, Jesus, and wept at his death. "Oh, the blood of Jesus". We played to overflowing audiences year after year.
Somewhere in there, it came to my attention that people get together for family dinners on Easter Sunday and apparently they eat feasts of ham and potatoes or turkey dinners - with all the family and with all the fixings. And I also heard that people buy Easter gifts for their kids. I didn't know this. Easter was never about this for me when I grew up.
Easter has been about the resurrection of Jesus. The Hope of glory.
Years now after the Cantata and after becoming aware of these family dinner ideas, I am coming into my own as to what celebrating Easter is. I've developed my own traditions.
We might not hide the eggs but we still buy the candy. If I'm home, I enjoy making a celebratory meal (it's always about the food!) at some point during the weekend, not necessarily Sunday. If I'm working, I love attempting a work potluck so that we can still know this day is special even if we're away from our people. I love songs of worship for Easter and Easter Sunday morning worship is my favourite of the year - they're songs of victory, songs of overcoming. I want this, I like this.
And I like to make Paska. I stumbled on this recipe many years ago over at Mennonite Girls Can Cook - Paska has become a tradition for me and is a family favourite. I love to bake it. I love to eat it. I REALLY love to share it. If batch #1 flops, I'll make batch #2. I might make 3 batches "just because" it's so so good. I talked with my mom last weekend and she hinted (quietly loud) - wondering if we 'happened to be coming to Saskatoon any time soon' and was 'wondering if you're making your Paska this year because YOURS is better than mine'. She said that.
So I got up yesterday and decided it was "the day" to bake at least 2 batches. I prepared batch #1 without a hitch and eagerly started batch #2.
Not even 5 minutes into the prep for batch #2, as I was cutting through orange and lemon peels, my knife slid through my thumbnail and thumb tip right into the cutting board. I knew immediately that it wasn't great.
And what do I do now? I CAN'T STOP MAKING PASKA JUST FOR THIS!
I managed to get help to get a good bandage on the thumb and it seemed only right that I finish the batch. <cross eyes here>.
So, pretty much one handed, I mixed the ingredients, kneaded the dough, let the dough rise and panned the buns.
My thumb throbbed. I felt a little bit sorry for myself. Wickedly clumsy from working with one hand, my big stainless steel bread bowl hit the floor, twice, scattering flour ALL. OVER. My panning attempts were awkward with only one dependable hand. I was a greasy mess. I was a floury mess. I was sore. And increasingly tired. There was a huge stack of dishes and pans in the sink, waiting to be done.
I wanted a picture of beautiful buns.
But this was what I had to show for my labours at the end of the day.
I can't help but think that there's a correlation to the depth of Easter here.
We want fluffy bunnies, cute chicks, Lindt chocolate and happy family gatherings for Easter. Songs of celebration - "He Lives!". High fives during worship practise as we enjoy the happiest songs of the season.
But Easter was messy.
 |
| (photo gleaned from Google Images) |
Messy.
Bloody.
Painful.
It seems we cannot have victory until we've had the battle.
A timely reminder for Easter week.
A timely reminder for us all.
I think our Easters were the same growing up. I would not have them any other way. Yes, those songs were difficult to sing but made us listen to the words and appreciate what the Easter message is all about. It is still a holiday I cherish with family and church-going and a dinner to celebrate life.
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing about it.
Helen
I agree - I cherish the memories of those years and all that we had (and didn't have)! Thank you for stopping in to read! Blessings to you!
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