Easter Below Zero

It was five degrees below zero - Celsius! - as we made our way to the Cathedral. I was a guest of the mayor of Novosibirsk, the third largest city of the Soviet Union and the capital of Siberia. The all-night vigil was beginning. Falling snow was packed hard underfoot by thousands of Russians who, like me, had come to worship and welcome Easter’s dawning. Many carried torches and chanted great Orthodox hymns. They formed a huge mass of devotion that swirled reverently around that ancient building all through the night. Later, when I was comfortably seated in the center of the second balcony, I heard their chanting; it flowed into the rich liturgy unfolding around me. The church’s interior also was jammed with devotees who were crowded together, shoulder to shoulder. Many carried lighted tapers as they swarmed below amidst radiant icons and thickening clouds of incense.

It was April 1-2, 1990. The USSR was imploding. The country was in the throes of economic collapse. Shelves were bare. Jobs were scarce. During the day, these same Russians stood for hours in long lines and sub-zero temperatures to get even a little food. Their government was reeling from the aftermath of Chernobyl, and reaping the consequences of decades of deceit and broken promises.


Their world was falling apart. They lived Lent – not by “giving up chocolate”, but by enduring betrayal, suffering, and the death of everything they knew. Now they gathered expectantly at the cathedral. Though the night was long and dark and very cold, something new was afoot. When the sun peaked over the horizon and into the cavernous church, a loud cry went up, “Christos voskrese!” and it was answered by a thunderous “Voistinu voskrese!” from every direction. “Christ is risen!” “He is risen, indeed!”


Perhaps our own prolonged and bitter winter, the economic difficulties faced by so many of us, and the stressful news from all sides, bring these memories to my mind now. Like our Siberian counterparts, we too need a spirituality that empowers us to live confidently in the midst of troubled circumstances. We too seek a way that touches our hearts, honors our intellects, and emboldens us to live conscientious lives. We too want to believe.




“Christ is risen!” “He is risen, indeed!” My Russian friends were not mouthing meaningless religious platitudes to celebrate a cultural holiday. They were not arguing historical fact or fiction. They were making a heartfelt affirmation. Their backs were against the wall, but they believed – or wanted to believe - that life is stronger than death, and that goodness will ultimately triumph. They were choosing hope over despair, and faithfulness over bleak futures or empty lives.


This, finally, is why we worship on Easter. In the midst of the lives we live, we want to know redemption and resurrection. We want to experience real life and genuine hope, and the deep joy of a meaningful life.





Let us give thanks for the return of spring and longer days, for birds and blooming flowers. But most of all, let us join together to give thanks to the Lord of Life itself, and for God’s continuing and transforming presence in all circumstances.