Thoughts on Easter Dinner

A funny thing happened this Easter. At the beginning of the week I had this strange, wonderful and awful realization: for the first, and perhaps last, time in my career I would not be working on Easter. Of course it is for the most joyful reason as I am wrapping up my maternity leave, but it made me a little sad and wistful: there is nothing quite like leading worship on the most joyful Sunday of the year. The reality washed over me though I realized something wonderful: I could make Easter dinner.

You see, I would NEVER attempt Easter dinner if I were working. Friends in the congregation have graciously invited us every year and told us to BRING NOTHING, but they were out of town visiting grandparents this year. It's a gift that they host us because, honestly, we have four services. There are hundreds and hundreds of people in worship. It is wonderful and profoundly exhausting. Easter dinner is not happening. In light of the demands of working Easter, the fact that I had a ten-week-old this year seemed like small potatoes. I might be slightly delusional, but Eve decided to sleep for 9 hours two nights in a row, so it seemed like a good idea to go for it.

And so, we decided to host Easter dinner. For fifteen. (In a spirit of honesty I should probably confess that three of our guests were under 1 and ate my cooking secondhand.) It was wonderful. Four pastors, two elders, and our neighbors who are strictly Christmas and Easter folks--but couldn't quite make it to service this year. A family of four and a divorced 30-something. Those three babies. A sister visiting from out of town.

After we finished the meal, I walked and bounced Eve as everyone else sat around the table, full, but taking one more cookie, pouring one more bit of wine, laughing and bringing to life my favorite image of the kingdom of G0d, a feast.

Happy Easter. Jesus is alive.

ps. Thanks for the lamb recipe, Emeril.