The Joys Of Greek Easter

Once every few years, Greek Easter falls the same week as "American Easter," as it was called when I was growing up. In order for "Greek Easter" to be celebrated the same week as "American Easter", Passover has to have been celebrated already. We Greeks don't do Easter until after Passover, because how can you have Easter before Passover? Jesus went to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover, after all. Unless it is one of the years where the two holidays align. Like this year.

Here are some of the things that non-Greeks may not know about Greek Easter: We don't do bunnies. We don't do chocolate. We don't do pastels. We do do lamb, sweet cookies, and deep red. The lamb is roasted and not chocolate, the sweet cookies are called Koulorakia and are twisted like a braid, and our Easter eggs are dyed one color only: blood red.

There is no Easter egg hunt. There is a game where you crack your red egg against someone else's red egg hoping to have the strongest egg, which would indicate you getting a lot of good luck.

Holy Week, for a Greek Orthodox, means you clear your calendar; you don't make plans for that week at all because you will be in church everyday, and you fast. Last year, in addition to not eating red meat and dairy before communion, my family also gave up sodas for the 40 day Lenten period. During one particularly stressful moment, there were many phone calls amongst our kids as to whether or not a canned drink called TING, made with grapefruit juice and carbonated water was, in fact, a soda and not a juice, which our then 10 year old decided it was, so we had a Ting-less Lent.

No matter where I find my self in the world I never miss Easter, or as we call it, Pascha. I have celebrated in Paris, London, New York City, Los Angeles, and in Salinas, California at a small humble church that was pure and simple.

When we were kids, our parents would take us, and now as parents ourselves we take our children, to many of the Holy Week services including the Good Friday service where you mourn the death of Jesus by walking up to the Epitaphio, which represents the dead body of Christ, make your cross, kiss the Epitaphio, and marvel at how it was decorated with thousands of glorious flowers, rose petals and scents like incense.

Some very pious people will crawl under the Epitaphio. I have always been so moved to see this. There is no self- consciousness in this utter act of faith. There is no embarrassment to show symbolic sorrow at the death of our Saviour.

At a certain point in the Good Friday service, the Epitaphio is carried outside by the deacons of the church, as if they are pall bearers, followed by worshippers carrying lit candles protected from dripping on your clothes and on others by having a red plastic cup that sits below the flame to catch the wax drippings. (Every Greek person knows all too well the smell of burning hair. One time, in London, I smelled something and turned to look at where the smell might be coming from only to be horrified that it was coming form me and my head was on fire. But I digress.) It is somber and quiet as we follow the Epitaphio, in candlelight, from the altar to the outdoors, in order for it to circle the church before it returns back to the altar. We sing beautiful lamentations that make your heart break with their pure expression of sadness and hope.

One of my favorite services during Easter is Holy Unction. This happens on the Wednesday of Holy Week. Holy Unction is a sacrament. It is for healing of our ills, physical and spiritual. It is preparing us for confession and communion.

This sacrament has always been so humbling to me. When you approach the priest for Holy Unction, you bow your head and as he says a prayer and asks you your Christian name, he takes a swab of blessed oil and makes the sign of the cross on your forehead, cheeks, chin, backs of your hands and palms. It is a powerful reminder of how, with faith, we can be healed in many ways.

The Holy oil is then carefully dabbed with cotton balls provided by the church so you don't leave there looking as if you're ready to fry chicken with your face. Before you exit the church, you leave your cotton balls in a basket being held by altar boys, so as not to dispose of the holy oil in a less than holy place. The church burns the used cotton balls. There have been times when I have left church with my cotton ball and have panicked when I am driving away. At home I take care if it. Imagine a grown woman burning cotton balls in her sink. But that is what I do.

Midnight Mass on Saturday night is the Anastasi service. We will arrive at church at around 11 pm, when it starts, and listen to the chanter as he chants in preparation for the service. My kids, dressed in their suits and having been awakened form a deep sleep to come to church, groggily sit and wait holding their candles with red cup wax catchers.

As the service progresses, the moment we have all been waiting for approaches. All the lights in the church are turned off. It is pitch black. It is dead quiet. The priest takes one candle and lights his one candle from the one remaining lit altar candle which represents the light of Christ's love (I believe). From this one candle, the priest approaches the congregation and using his one candle he shares his light with a few people in the front pews. They in turn share their light with the people next to them and behind them. In quiet solemnity, we wait until the entire church is lit with only the light of candles; the light that has been created by one small flame has now created a room of shared light. And at a moment that can only be described as glorious, the priest cries out, "Xristos Anesti!" ("Christ is Risen!") We respond with "Alithos Anesti!" ("Truly, He is Risen!") We sing our rejoiceful Xristos Anesti song with the choir.

That moment, which happens about an hour, to an hour and half into the service and seems as if the service is over, actually marks the beginning of the service. The service then continues for another hour and a half. When I was a kid, after the service was over, we would go to the Anastasi Dinner, the church would throw in the church hall, where we would break our fast, drink Cokes at 2:30 in the morning, dance to a raucous Greek band, and not go home until our stomachs were full of lamb, eggs, Koulouraki, and we saw the sun rise. Or was it the Son Rise? But usually now, after Midnight Mass, we drive home with our still lit candles.I always love seeing the looks on people's faces as they pull up to our car seeing a family with lit candles calmly moving at 65 MPH down the highway.

When we get home, we crack eggs, eat cookies, drink hot chocolate ( so not Greek), and I burn a cross into our doorways with the carbon from the candle smoke to bless our house for the year. There have been many times when painters touching up the house have wondered why there was this strange black cross burned into our doorways.

I have to say, the Greeks know how to do Easter. Make no mistake -- this is the most important holiday in our church. It is a beautiful week. I haven't even begun to touch on what the week is really like. This is a sampling of a sampling of what it is like. It is so much deeper, so much richer than I have written here. But one thing is clear -- It is a powerful, beautiful, mysterious, humbling, healing, and moving week. It is filled with tradition and ritual. It is about renewal and faith. And even though it is still too early to say, Xristos Anesti! Alithos Anesti!

This was originally posted in the Washington Post 's On Faith column.

Comments

[gvasil]

that was a very nice account of how Greek Orthodox Christians here in the U.S. and overseas celebrate Orthodox Pascha. But she could have mentioned that this is the way that about 200 million Orthodox Christians celebrate Easter around the world who are not Greek. The celebration of Pascha is not the exclusive property of Greeks or those of Greek descent.

[moodasz]

Thanks for sharing your family's traditions. They are so important to keep and pass on to your children. I struggle with what traditions to maintain/pass on and often feel ours aren't ancient - they seem rootless. I'm a little jealous of the orthodox traditions. Cherish them. They keep you grounded in something deeper and richer and truer than the here and now.

[larry278]

I now have a vague idea why an American who kept Greek Orthodox traditions was so distressed when a butcher wouldn't order a lamb for her for Easter. I've learned to make it a point to know of the closest halal or kosher butcher since then. No, I don't know how I'd handle it if a Greek Orthodox friend asked me where I got their lamb when I got it from a halal or kosher butcher. Perhaps the Holy Spirit would guide me.
larry lynch

[cinemaven]

What a beautiful account of faith and celebration.

I was raised by a Catholic mom and a Protestant dad who raised us to learn about religion and choose the one that fit us best. I tagged along with many friends to services of many faiths but I'm sad to say, I've never experienced Greek Easter. Your very descriptive account makes me wish I had. It seems so much more meaningful than chocolate bunnies.

"one thing is clear -- It is a powerful, beautiful, mysterious, humbling, healing, and moving week. It is filled with tradition and ritual. It is about renewal and faith. And even though it is still too early to say, Xristos Anesti! Alithos Anesti!"

We all need some of that in our lives...

[fetacheese]

great post rita, thank you. i was raised greek orthodox and although i'm not particularly religious anymore, i always loved easter services (and the holy lamb--can't wait!). but we've got a few weeks to go before that happens so we must be patient! it's definitely too early for hristos anesti but i hope you and your family have a lovely easter :):)

[rini]

Yeah, I'm also half Greek, but went to a methodist church every Sunday because of my German mother (it was the closest thing we found to lutheran.)

I remember some Easters with my father's family. The egg cracking, the lamb, the incense etc... Mostly, I felt like a fish out of water because I didn't even speak Greek. I certainly never felt Greek, or German, for that matter. My cousins, who are around twenty years older than I am, seemed a world away.

Now I am married to a Jewish man. My kids? They can do whatever they want. Do I have traditions that we share? At the risk of sounding unPC,..... NO. We share a lot, such as music, science, politics , and culture etc.. Actually, we have our own habits that are sort of our traditions.

Being a mutt gives you perspective. Maybe I'm full of hubris, but I believe that someone like me would never have gotten our country into the international mess we are in now.

[oncesung]

This was a sweet article until you started on your glorious list of the hotspots you've been to at Greek Easter time - Paris, London, Geneva, wherever. Greek Easter was celebrated in Tarpon Springs and Palm Harbor down in Florida (on the Gulf). Teenaged boys dove into the sea to retrieve a cross each year. These were the sons of sponge fishermen who will never go to Paris or London, or New York.
Your story was supposed to be about the Lord's Easter, not about your travel extravaganzas. Our country is broke. Go brag somewhere else.

[fetacheese]

i think it's time to up the dosage on your meds. there was ONE sentence about how she's celebrated easter in many different places, but the *point* was to convey that no matter where she is, she'll always celebrate greek easter. reading comprehension is clearly not your strong suit.

[bonniesmom]

I hope that you have a blessed Lent, Rita! Christos Aneste!

[poomplet]

Nice post! I'm a mutt....1/2 fullblood Greek, 1/2, well...not. Raised Orthodox, I never spoke the language or really fit in (c'mon...a blonde/blue-eyed Greek named "Smith"?), and now, I'm kind of non-practicing anything.

But Rita's post crystallizes the memories of Easter very well; fighting w/Mom about Friday fastings (and my later cheating!)...the midnight masses where you play w/the molten part of the candle until you're burned...trying to roast our own whole lamb before we found places to buy it, done to perfection(here in Chicago, that's big business!)....bad uncles hogging the chops....trying to find the perfect/secret egg-grip that will crush all opponents....using the lyrics of "The Chritosanesti Song" to prove to Geeks that I was actually Greek.

I feel kinda guilty for not practicing Orthodoxy anymore...and this post ain't helping. But thanks nonetheless..it's the non-Greeks that will benefit the most from learing about this beautiful holiday.

[Joeseo]

Your account is a blessing. Thankyou.

[jathemelis]

Ms. Wilson continues to be a healthy represenative of modern Greek-Americans.
I, too, still always celebrate Greek Easter no matter where I am.