This year I observed Lent, as much as I could, and I attended the Paschal Liturgy at my church. Pascha is the Orthodox name for Easter and their calculation of the date for Easter is different than the Western tradition largely because of a continued use of the Julian calendar (and they rely on a real full moon, rather than a calculated one). The result of the calculation difference means that Pascha is always after the Western Easter, and it usually falls on the close of Passover(since the calculation for the two is essentially the same).
I arrived at Holy Resurrection at about midnight just as the paschal flame was being passed to the congregation. The church was dark except for a small light in the Holy Sanctuary where the Priests performed the rites of the service. I then saw those lights multiply as the priests lit candles and emerged from the sanctuary to light the candles of the parishioners. The paschal light was spread backwards through the church until it found me, in the very back, just outside of the door to the nave(where the parishioners are during the service). There was no artificial light and the room was filled with little candle lights. It was a beautiful sight. Chanting begun and the Paschal Hymn was sung. I like the Paschal Hymn a lot, and have since I first heard it. The English of the hymn is as follows: "Christ is risen, from the dead. Trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life" – then repeat. This short verse is full of theological depth and captures the crux of Christian belief, I like it very much and I tend to say it in my head often.
As I was in the back of the church, I watched my candle, protecting its light. We processed around the church, all of us holding our candles. I thought about how the candle must be protected from the wind and how sometimes it is blown out and you have to ask someone if you can use their candle to light yours. It seems like this is a perfect analogy for Christian life, or life in general. We cultivate what we believe, but there are sometimes doubts and having a community to fall back on allows our "flames" to be relit. Pascha is the annual resurrection of our(Orthodox Christians) faith and reminds us that life is a process that requires nurturing and care for growth to occur.
The rest of the service was good as well, after the procession, the lights are turned on in the church and liturgy continues with interjected bouts of "Christ is risen" and "Indeed, He is risen" in many languages. There are a number of different hymns sung which make the service longer than usual. Many of the children in the congregation were asleep by 2ish. I saw some kids on the pews sleeping and two others in sleeping bags under the pews. My friend Aaron's baby seemed determined to stay awake though looking at her little face; I could tell she was tired. She didn't cry during the service even though at one point I looked over and she seemed to be making grumpy-mouth – it was pretty cute.
When the service concluded with communion and blessed bread we gathered downstairs for the Paschal Feast. There was a ton of food, mostly the stuff that one could not eat if they had been fasting. Many of the kids, and adults, were walking around with hard boiled eggs and playing a game where they crack eggs with another to see whose egg will break. One thing I noticed that was different from the other time I had attended Pascha at Holy Resurrection is that the food tables were in a straight line. When I had attended in college, the tables were laid out in the shape of a cross. I suppose the linear shape facilitates getting food easier, but I enjoy the little symbolic details sometimes.
I talked with a few people and met some people that I didn't know before. I spoke with Fr. Patrick briefly and then came home. I managed to sneak in the door around 4am. I was tired, but I am really glad that I went to service.
