Easter has always been one of my favorite times of
the year. I love that the weather turns warmer, the snow begins to melt, the
first robins are seen, and we finally hit the home stretch of the school year!
It’s also undeniable that Holy Week is the pinnacle of the church year, and I
never realized how much it means to me to celebrate with a community of
believers, until I no longer have the same opportunity. I simply love Holy
Thursday when we are reminded to follow Jesus’s example and wash the feet of
our brothers and sisters. Then, we commemorate Good Friday services and reflect
on the Passion of Christ. He laid down his life for the least of us, and there
is no greater love than this. The Easter Vigil on Saturday evening is one of
the most beautiful, meaningful opportunities to reflect on the mystery of
Christ’s Resurrection, and Sunday morning Easter services are the most joyful
displays of worshipping the risen Lord!
While I didn’t have the chance to attend any of the
other services this year, I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to
worship Sunday morning at the Catholic Church in Ngara. To be honest, the
prospect of going to church on my own is daunting anywhere, but much more so
for me in a foreign community. But sometimes you just need to take the first
step and then the rest will fall into place. I was told that mass was at 9am,
so I arrived there a few minutes early, only to find out that the first service
wasn’t finished yet. Not a big deal, I figured since it was Easter they were
running a little longer than normal. There were two other young women sitting
outside the entrance to the church grounds, so I waited across from them, until
after a while one of them left and the other invited me inside to sit closer to
the door. We shared a friendly conversation (all in Swahili I am proud to say!)
and I found out the next service was actually at 10am, go figure. So we waited
together, and when everyone came pouring out of the church from the first
service, she introduced me to another young woman who would take me inside and
then said goodbye. All this time I thought she was waiting for the next service
as well, when come to find out she was simply waiting with me so I wouldn’t
have to be alone! What a kind act for a complete stranger!
I was very grateful to have someone who grabbed my
hand at this point to lead me through
the sea of people and inside the church. It’s comforting to sit next to someone
at mass! The church was simple, but bright and beautiful on the inside. The
church in Muyenzi reflects all of the buildings in the community, dark on the
inside, dirt floors, mud walls, wooden rafters with bats perching above your
head. There’s absolutely nothing wrong it, it just is what it is, and we can
sing praises to our God regardless of the building. But this church in Ngara
had bright white walls, colorful fabric draped along the back wall surrounding
the Crucifix, microphones and a sound system, a full choir, and six sections of
wooden pews that you would find in any American church. It was lovely! While I
couldn’t understand most things that were being said, the thing I love about
Catholic mass is that it follows the same outline no matter where you are in
the world. I knew exactly when to sit, stand or kneel. I knew when we were
hearing the Gospel, consecrating the bread and wine, or shaking hands for the
sign of peace. And when the choir broke out in the most wonderful rendition of
the Alleluia chorus from Handel’s Messiah that I’ve ever heard, I was
overjoyed! Of course they sang it in Swahili, but it was beautiful and I simply
loved that I had the opportunity to spend my Easter morning with such a
welcoming, joyful, and peaceful community of believers.
I’ve learned the importance of taking the first
frightening step, embracing every opportunity, and pouring your heart out to
God. Whether sitting in a comfortable community with friends and family or in a
new place surrounded by new faces speaking a new language, the ultimate
celebration is Alleluia, Christ is Risen!
