Barneyisfat

Last Easter I cried. My Russian host mother had fallen asleep for the train ride to Moscow. We left at 5 in the morning to go to Moscow to see a Ballet. It was Easter morning, and here I was sitting by myself on a train filled with Russian people, the only one of whom I knew being asleep. That wasn't why I cried. That would be a silly reason to cry.

During Holy Week I did the best I could. I snuck some peach nectar and black bread while I was alone at home on Thursday and had my own communion celebration. On Friday I wore black. I didn't bathe from Thursday until Sunday. (Not that uncommon for me while I was in Russia - you must love enculturation!) But I concsiously chose to wait those 4 days to bathe. From Thursday when Jesus washed their feet to Sunday when even their hearts were clean. I didn't have a palm frond or an easter lilly.

I was on the train and the sun began to rise. Over the birch trees I watched that sun come out - so gloriously bright. I watched as the sun rose above the trees and I was suddenly struck by the idea that Jesus died for everyone who was on that train. Jesus died for me, for Lena - my host mother who was a committed communist and very leary of Christianity, and for all of the strangers I didn't know. I started to cry. I hummed a very chords of a favorite hymn and then spent the next few hours in prayer.

During the day I saw a ballet, went to historic cathedrals, and watched the sun set over the Volga. My day went on as normal (hey, it was normal for me), but I knew that He is Risen. He is Risen Indeed.

This Easter I went to a sunrise service, 2 "normal church services", and then ate a lovely Easter meal with friends from church and school. My friend Ben wore short-shorts to play racquetball, my girlfriend and I held hands while we watched "Red Eye", and we toured my "adopted families" giant home.

I want every Easter to be filled with adventure and suprise. I can't think of a better thing to have on the Holiday. Chocolate bunnies are nice, but I want to feel the wind of adventure that the women at the tomb felt when they found it empty. We are an Easter People. Praise God.