When I was young Easter would begin at our church by our pastors tearing the black veil that covered our communion table from Good Friday to symbolize the tearing of the temple veil. Our service would end by our pastor saying¨He is Risen!¨and the congregation responding, ¨He is Risen Indeed!¨ Doing this three times getting louder and louder. This Easter was a little different.
First off, no Easter clothes. Not that I brought any, but all my decent clothes I had given to the laundry lady the day before and they hadn´t come back. So I was stuck wearing my old dirty pants and a grey T-shirt. We didn´t have a sunrise service. Not that I ever went to it at home, but the idea that it was going on was always comforting.
What we ended up doing was going to a market area and helping Pastor Alice with a church she has started in that area. We found out once again that we would be running the service and volunteers were needed. ¨I´ll give the message¨I blurted out. So while the rest of the team went into the market to talk to people and tell them about the upcoming service, I prepared for the message.
I spoke on Barabas and how he was the first person who Jesus saved from his deserved death. A physical representation for what He would do for the whole world; dying in our place. I spoke of the temple veil tearing in two and how that symbolized the end of the separation between man and God. I shared the ressurection and the good news of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I honestly didn´t feel like I did a good job. Three people came up to receive Christ, and after an incredibly awkward ending to the message, my part was done.
Service was concluded and we continued on with the rest of our day. It was an interesting Easter, but I think it was good.
