It happened in the line greeting parishioners and visitors after the Easter morning traditional service at 9:00 AM. As is frequent, part of my mind was whirring away in the background about little missteps and mistakes I had made during the service (my judgment tape busily at work), when a family of three came up, a man and woman about my age and a college-age daughter. The woman said, “We’re visiting from Illinois. We go to Grace Lutheran in Park Ridge. My father died this morning and I wanted you to know how important it was for us to be here today. The service really spoke to us, the music and how friendly everyone has been. I feel like I have been ‘Eastered,’ that God brought us here today to be with you all.” All four of us were suddenly in tears, good tears, tears that tell us the truth of the Resurrection, that God does go ahead of us, into trial and death and beyond death, with us, for us. The little missteps and mistakes didn’t seem so important anymore.

I have a book on my shelf by Will Willimon that is titled Worship as Pastoral Care. While I appreciated, intellectually, the idea that worship is pastoral care, it never really hit home quite the way that it does now, after my first Holy Week at Saint Nicholas. You see, while pastors get some training in counseling and psychology and the like, what we really have to offer is a willing heart and ear but more importantly, witness to the age-old journey of God’s offer of grace to God’s people and the people’s sometimes worshipful, sometimes wandering and willful response to that offer. When our worship is able to capture our moments of surrender to God, our moments when we are able to accept that we are accepted, then worship truly is pastoral care.

Holy Week, the bright center of the liturgical year, offers many such moments. The anthems of the choir, so touching, so moving, provide such moments – “Up from the grave he arose!” from the Easter Vigil, “Gifts of bread and wine” from Maundy Thursday. The flowers (and palms!) so beautifully expressing the church’s hope and celebration. Washing the feet of the people I have been given to love, and with a bit of surprise, realizing that I do. The dark start of the Vigil when, at the cusp between death and life, the church recalls God’s mighty acts of salvation. The bright ending as we bring into the present and experience anew the Easter Victory. The baptisms, people who have now become brothers and sisters, expressing God’s covenant with the people He has chosen for great service and witness. The worship participants, the lectors, the acolytes, assisting ministers, presenters, all working together in unfamiliar roles and responsibilities, gravely and proudly taking their parts in a drama that has been rehearsed and executed reverently and passionately for thousands of years. The work of the people.

The season of Easter, the “week of weeks” offers the same opportunities for worship and celebration. The church fathers (and mothers!) wisely decreed that there had to be 50 days of celebration during Easter, more days than the 40 penitential days of Lent, because our joy must exceed our sorrow. Fasting is prohibited during the 50 Great Days of Easter. Centuries ago, a penitential religious order once asked if they couldn’t fast just a little bit during the season of Easter and were turned down flat. The season of Easter is one of pure celebration, a season in which we accept our acceptance and rejoice in it.

As we move toward Pentecost and our young people move toward confirmation, taking their places as adult members of the Church of God, we celebrate the continuing presence of our Risen Lord among us. May this time of Easter be a time when we can live into what it means to be Easter people, people saved not from the world but for the world witnessing to the great Gift we have received.

Pastor Greg