Easter Morning—Resurrection Day
If Christ did not rise from the dead, his death on the Cross would have been for naught! Without Easter (and the Resurrection, Good Friday would have been just another day when someone died. Both days are important as one cannot have one without the other.
Steve (who is one of those twice a year church goers) and I got up early to go to the sunrise service at the local Baptist Church. This is the sixth year we have attended this particular service. We started going two years before the current pastor arrived, so we feel we have some seniority, even though this is not my regular church. The Church was small when we started attending this service. Under Brother Keith, the Pastor, the Church has grown enough for them to buy additional land for a new future larger building.
I love the concept of a sun(Son)rise service. It brings back some really wonderful memories. Lots of different places hosted by various demoninations. When I was somewhere between 9 and 11, I went to the first one which I can remember. I had a new reddish dressy jacket which I could not wait to wear. When I put it on to wear to sunrise (where no one would see it anyway), I thought I was the cat’s meow!
It was still dark, when I got up. (Duh! How else can one see the sun rise??). I can’t remember how I got there, but I may have walked. In this time frame, we lived about a mile or two from the church (the Evangelical Congregational). I did lots of walkin’ in those days, as we did not have a car. The service was behind the church where there was a huge outcrop of rock. The setting was really awesome. The rock, as we were reminded, was kind of like the tomb in which Jesus had been placed. The first rays of sun poured over the peak of the outcrop. Awesome does not describe it, but it is the best word with which I can verbalize. Don’t remember much more, but obviously the two things that impressed me were my coat and the rock with the smattering of the sun’s rays.
Today’s service was quite different. It was held at the new property, which can be seen from the “old” property (well, almost). Lots of singing, including Amazing Grace, accompanied by a bagpiper from the local sheriff’s department. She was great! The initial prayer was done in Spanish by Pastor Carlos. Their Church shares the Baptist Church for services and ministry.
The preacher’s sermon theme was “I Believe.” It was not very long, but contained the doctrines and concepts shared by most main stream Christians—Virgin birth, death on a cross, resurrection, etc.
Brother Keith is a dynamic preacher and really gets into his sermons and--like many Baptist preachers--walks around a lot. As Baptists, the congregation, of course, is usually very verbally responsive—not so much this morning (guess not too many had had coffee yet). Anyway, he said “I BELIEVE” many times in his sermon. One little girl who was about four years old started echoing him. He’d say, “I BELIEVE!” She’d respond in her tiny, but loud voice, “I Believe!” It made most of us smile. But Pastor Keith used her response, by saying something to the effect that “She gets it. Wake up!” From that point, the congregation also responded every time he said, “I BELIEVE!”
Brother Keith is a dynamic preacher and really gets into his sermons and--like many Baptist preachers--walks around a lot. As Baptists, the congregation, of course, is usually very verbally responsive—not so much this morning (guess not too many had had coffee yet). Anyway, he said “I BELIEVE” many times in his sermon. One little girl who was about four years old started echoing him. He’d say, “I BELIEVE!” She’d respond in her tiny, but loud voice, “I Believe!” It made most of us smile. But Pastor Keith used her response, by saying something to the effect that “She gets it. Wake up!” From that point, the congregation also responded every time he said, “I BELIEVE!”
My guess is that there were approximately two hundred folks in attendance. Two hundred people echoing “I BELIEVE” cannot be described. Wonderful! Awesome! Exhilarating! Great!
The church members prepare a wonderful breakfast for all who attend. I don’t how they plan as every year it grows larger, and LARGER. It is free. We have enjoyed it all these years. I bet for such occasions they will be glad and joyful to see a new, bigger facility in the future. Grits (of course—this is the SOUTH), scrambled eggs, biscuit, bacon, sausage, and the most wonderful potato and cheese casserole, coffee and juice (I did not get any beverage as it was just too crowded.) They used to have the bestest (I know how bad this grammar is, but they were better than best) cinnamon rolls, but I guess the crowd has just overwhelmed them and the focus had to be put on regular breakfast stuff. The breakfast was at the Church. We drove from the new property. Some how we managed to be very near the front of the line. (Don’t know how this happened—as usually I am near the back of lines.) Normally, I enjoy the fellowship that goes with this type of meal. But there were so many people waiting in line and not many tables left. So, we downed our grub and drove home.
Steve and I have dined with Don three days this week--at both Masonic gatherings and at the Baptist breakfast. I tease him that every time I see him, we are stuffing our faces. Friendships can grow over food.
Later I went to the regular service at the local Presbyterian (wish this was easier to spell) Church. I might have skipped, but I had not been there in several weeks. I missed the folks.
Steve and I dined alone. We had an invitation to Lynne's. But Steve thought the two-hundred mile drive was more than with which he wanted to deal. Traffic coming north on I-75 is horrible on Sunday afternoons. The ham was tender and the trimmings a treat.
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