I’ve been in Greece with a group of clergy the last several days and made it to Athens yesterday afternoon. After a dinner with the Acropolis looking over our shoulders, we went to an Greek Orthodox Church to watch an Easter Vigil, since it’s been Holy Week in the Orthodox Church, culminating in Easter Sunday today.
The church was packed and we couldn’t get a seat, but we listened and watched through a window. It’s also BYOC for these gatherings (bring your own candle) because at midnight, the bells ring out, fireworks go off, and you share the light of Christ, saying, “Christos Anesti!” (Christ is risen!) and the response is, “Alithos Anesti!” (Truly, he is risen!).
It was one of the most joyous Easters I’ve ever experienced and I was so in awe of the celebration, that I totally forgot what I was supposed to say. I had my candle lit and others were coming up to me to receive my light. They all were saying, “Christos Anesti” and I wasn’t responding and I’m sure some might have been thinking, “What is this guy’s problem?” Finally, as man guy took a light from my candle, I mumbled gibberish, but I think I threw an “anesti” in there. He laughed softly and said in perfect English, “Close.”
In the midst of celebrating the good news of Christ’s resurrection, listening to Orthodox priests chant words I didn’t understand, and smiling at the joy of strangers around me, I realized that this was one of those holy moments where I was indeed close. Close to the experience of being in Christ’s very real presence, even though I was at a loss at what I was supposed to do or say. Once again I was reminded that it’s usually when I am most helpless and clueless that the light of Christ shines the brightest. Christos Anesti!
