Easter weekend and the days leading up to it used to exhaust me. There were choir rehearsals for Good Friday and Sunday services. There were two Good Friday services, one on Thursday evening and one at noon on Friday. There were four Sunday morning services. In addition to all the rehearsals and services, there were dresses to buy, food to prepare, baskets to fill, and eggs to hunt. Easter was always a hyped-up blur to me.
This week on Facebook I’ve scrolled past countless invitations to different churches’ Easter Events.
Easter Event.
And I wonder if Jesus ever expected his death and resurrection would be turned into an annual, weekend-long hoopla of new clothes, multiple church services, candy-filled baskets, a feast of rich foods, and an egg hunt for the masses.
The build-up is massive. As one friend recently put it, You expect fireworks to go off during the Sunday morning service.
I suppose Easter is no different than Christmas. They’re both holidays that seem to increase in dramatic expectation each year, leaving the participants weary and wondering what even transpired.
When asked if she’d attend church this Easter, a friend lamented, I don’t know. Why can’t Easter Sunday service be like every other Sunday?
I get why churches do it. Easter Sunday is the remembrance of the single most important event in Christian tradition. And to celebrate, they throw a party of sorts, though they’d never call it that. Easter Event is more reserved, I suppose. In any case, they’re attempting to draw in the masses, the unchurched who only attend twice a year. The lost.
I haven’t been to church since before Christmas. I guess you could call me “unchurched.” Some of you will probably call me “lost.” It doesn’t matter what label gets stuck on me. I now know both sides of the coin. As one who used to get high on Easter services and all the drama, I understand the churches’ need to make it bigger and better every year. But as one who now rarely attends church, I can tell you that the unchurched don’t particularly care for all the lights and production and drama.
To those of us on the outside, the Easter Events appear to be a spectacle rather than a time of worship. Then again, maybe that’s appropriate. Wasn’t that why the crowds were gathered at the cross? They wanted to see a spectacle.
I’ll attend church on Easter Sunday simply because it’s expected in my culture. This year will be even more low-key for me than last year. I have no expectations. I’ve seen no Easter Event advertisements for the church we’ll be attending. In all honesty, I sincerely hope Jesus meets me there. Not in a dramatic, fantastic way. Not in a production. Rather, I hope to find him in the quiet and simple and ordinary.
I really love this, Rebekah. God has spoken so much to me about church. I absolutely cringe at the production of church but I keep attending. Mainly because for now, there are not a whole lot of options available for “church” that look like God’s church, and I know that His word says to keep meeting together, so I do. However, I am finding it harder to invite people to the show of church. I am too aware of it. I pray He meets you today in your quiet, simple, ordinary moments. I am learning this is where He meets us most.
Thanks, Jamie. I completely understand where you are.
A quiet simple way is exactly what Jesus would want. He was a simple ‘Savior’. I pray he comes near you… sits with you… and minsters to your expectant heart. We have made Easter a production of sort because many don’t understand the ‘suffering’ HE chose. He didn’t really want it yet He yielded to the Father because he had to, just as he came as a little tiny baby at Christmas. Humble love. Compassionate understanding. Deep longing for us to be saved.
Thank you for the encouragement once again, Sharon. I always appreciate your comments.
For many years my Easter worship was a simple sunrise service by the river. Not the big celebration in a “church”. Yes, this upset many in my family, but I was not comfortable in their church and so I chose not to attend. Sometimes I would go and sit in a back corner of a different church and just come to worship God, never mine what went on around me. The church we attend now does not do all the traditional services or build up. Part of me misses the communion service on Thursday and the time of remembrance of Jesus act of service. It also misses the quiet time of meaningful worship on Friday, when we paused to remember the cross, the suffering. I look forward to singing the resurrection hymns on Sunday to remind me that HE LIVES!
I now travel in a semi with my husband. We are not where I can go to worship on Thursday or Friday. The churches I used to attend have taking the meaning out of the Good Friday service and turned it into a circus. I would not go now. So today, as I sit and wait for a load I read blogs and scripture and pray.
I pray for family and friends who are suffering. I pray for the world. I pray for myself. I give THANKS for God’s love and grace and forgiveness. I give thanks the Jesus came, lived, loved, taught, served, died and rose again. And I look forward to the day HE will come again and the will be PEACE ON EARTH.
Don’t feel bad about not attending church. It is not about where we are, but whose we are. It is about remembering and giving thanks and receiving His gift of love for each of us. He comes to us, right where we are today.
So feel His love enfold you and don’t listen to the lies. God Bless
Mary, thanks for reading. I’m glad you’re finding your peace as you travel. That seems somehow appropriate to me. Thanks so much for the kind encouragement.
I really love your honesty. God has been changing my idea of what the church is to be. I am learning that the church is not the building, the production or even those that attend but the church is Christ and showing His love.
I believe when we all turn our focus to Christ and reaching out to those around us instead of on the Sunday show then we will begin to heal our brokenness together.
Thank you for teaching me to look outside myself and my comfort zone to see more… more of Christ….. more of The Church.
Ah, yes, Amy. I started writing a post the other day about how the church is not the building. Maybe I’ll finish it at some point. Love your thoughts here…thanks for sharing them.
Thank you for your insights, Rebekah. I don’t like “events” masquerading as worship services, period, and lament the theatricality of churches . . . “programming,” etc., or the use of business concepts to “run” the church. I do love beautiful worship services, and I love beautiful classical music and organs and instruments, where my soul is uplifted. That is my personal joy. But I won’t app;laud, and I hpe that the beauty draws me to God and not to “performers” or a “performance.” I want to celebrate, because Jesus rose from the dead and promises that those who trust in Him wil also. And yes, I agree, we can certainly celebrate that every Sunday and likely should. Bless you for sharing. (And Lord deliver me from Easter bunnies and jelly beans)!
Lynn, we share the same love–music. It’s probably what I love most about church services. (I need deliverance from the Cadbury chocolate-chocolate eggs!)
Amen to that, Rebekah!
Thanks for hitting publish on this one today. It was for me.
We will not be attending Easter services despite my struggle with guilt and shame for that decision.
Also my 10 yo asked how Easter was a religious holiday.
Apparently she doesn’t remember how her daddy was a pastor for the first 8 years of her life.
We’ve tried to find a place to worship but just can’t seem to find something, anything that feels like … Home.
So rather than go we stay.
And cook.
And gather around our dining room table.
And I hope it’s enough.
I hope that even though we won’t have new dresses
Or Living Suppers
Or special worship
Or sermons
We’ll have Easter. I hope Christ will meet us at home.
Oh, Steph. I so understand how you feel. My 10 year old asked last week what Easter was about. When my husband answered, she said, “Oh, yeah, I forgot.” Heartbreaking. Hugs to you and yours this weekend. I hope it’s a peaceful Sunday.
Just read this blog, Rebekah. Sorry I missed it before Easter Sunday. Your words resonate deeply with my heart. Like the church you mentioned, we did not advertise an Easter “Event.” We simply gathered and shared communion with anyone who happened to stumble in our doors. I experienced Jesus that day, not in a dramatic reenactment of the crucifixion, or slick production, or video. I experienced Him that day while looking into the eyes of folks who came to table, with their burdens, their struggles, their hurts, their doubts. Somehow, when we were at table together, lingering around the room, I recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread. Though momentary, I tasted hope. I always glimpse hope by reading your blogs, not because you give answers, but because you dare to question. And, in those questions, you help me peel back the restrictive layers of “church” to see a little more clearly the core of the crucified one. Blessings, my sister.
“I experienced Him that day while looking into the eyes of folks who came to table, with their burdens, their struggles, their hurts, their doubts.” That’s beautiful. I wish all pastors could experience that in people instead of laying the burden of joy on their attenders. Maybe I’m wrong, but sometimes, it’s simply too hard to even look for joy. Sometimes, we need to be welcomed in our sorrow without pressure to change.
Amen!