The spring of Easter

by Dimitri C. Michalakis

The faith I brought to America came from my childhood in Greece, but worshipping in America was a lot different than back on Chios, where I grew up.

First of all, back in Greece, faith and religion were always a part of your life. When you built something, when there was an important event in your life, the local priest would come to bless your new house, addition to the house, abutment to the house, and the recovery of one of the kids from sickness, or one of the older members of the family approaching their end. The man who you saw most days, wearing his little bun, and his blue work smock and boots, was suddenly the man of God in black, the bun still in place, but now with his kalimavchi on, clutching his gold cross with the Byzantine points, and with a bowl or pan you provided where he could bless the water in it, douse a sprig of basil, and then flick it at you in prayer—and it always smelled fragrant.

I remember going to church on Sundays, of course, to the little church with the courtyard done in tile, and then running around the courtyard with the other kids after the service, while the adults traded conversation and news. That was during the day.

But Easter I remember as a nighttime worship, when the sky was lit above, and the world was dark below, except for the glow of the little church like a campfire, and where the chant of the service filled the air. The whole world seemed concentrated in that little church that night, while the rest of the world lay shrouded, and you couldn’t help but imagine and envision the dark and dramatic tableau of Easter, to its inevitable and tragic climax, but then relieved by the resurrection, like a cleansing rain that brought out the sunshine again.

In those little towns, in those little villages, Easter, coinciding with Spring, was literally a rebirth. The evening services, so solemn and intimidating for a kid, were replaced by the daytime celebration of the Resurrection, the family celebration, the pageantry of Easter meals and new clothes for the holiday and the delicious food with family: I still remember the whole troop of kids in my neighborhood carrying the tray with the lamb and potatoes to the brick oven of the neighborhood, and then lining up again to carry the trays back with the cooked meal and smelling it the whole way.

To me Easter has always been a favorite holiday: it has all the drama of Holy Week, but it has the Resurrection that brings hope to the world, and Spring in the air.
Kali Hronia to all of us.