Every Easter of my childhood, we gathered at the lake on the hill above the church where my father was the pastor and as the sun crept up over the lake, our voices echoed: “Christ is risen!” “He is risen, indeed!” The youth group provided the breakfast and we broke bread together in the morning chill before heading to the big sanctuary for the formal service, complete with soaring organ singing alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.
Later, I led a smaller congregation who gathered at Lake Ontario in the still-winter dark, standing in the cold, and often the snow, to await the rising of the sun and of Christ. Then we would go to our church and fill the empty cross standing on the lawn with the flowers we had carried.
Today, I slept long past sunrise, arrived late for the service, cried through the Hallelujah Chorus – who knows why? Except, why not? And still I was blessed with a Sunrise Service, the sweet words of local poet, Mendy Knott. I share them with you. Continue Reading →