Sometimes Easter 'happens' and sometimes it doesn't - what do I mean by that?

Obviously, Easter happens every year - it is a date in the calendar, we prepare and deliver the services in faith, and with the hope that, somehow or other Easter will 'happen', that the wonder, mystery and joy of resurrection will somehow be our experience.  But there are no guarantees - there is no formula that is certain to give us a 'wow' or 'aha' moment when resurrection becomes real; there is no promise that we will feel anything at all.  

The danger of reducing Easter to an event, to a moment, is that we can feel as if we fail if/when we don't 'feel' it.  I am sure this is, in part, why most of the gospels have stories doubt and question, disbelief and fear... because Easter is a process, a working out (or outworking) that can take time, a lot of time.

But for me, this year, Easter did 'happen' on Sunday, as we shared together in something that proved to be very special - as evidenced by comments made to me by visitors and regulars alike.

For me, the highlight was probably the 'informal communion' where four children (supported by an adult just in case!) served the congregation with gluten free pitta bread and grape juice.  It could have been a disaster - plates held at angles that threatened to tip the entire contents onto someone's lap... near trips over the edges of pews that were saved just in time... small children weighed down by relatively heavy trays of glasses... and in that risk was rare beauty... a moment of 'this is what become like a child' means.  By chance, perhaps, we had two girls and two boys, two regulars and two occasional visitors, different skin colours, different ages and abilities, which simply added to the moment.

A visitor spoke of being moved almost to tears... a regular spoke of new life... many spoke of it being special... and it was, not because of what I did (though I did do a lot!) but because of everyone present and because of the mystery that is Easter joy...