by Roseanna M. White
With another holiday upon us, our thoughts might be on coloring eggs, buying candy, making goodies, or picking out/purchasing that perfect spring dress to wear to church on Sunday. To modern America, things like Easter Egg Hunts are standard practice, along with the Sunrise Service at our church and the ham in the oven afterward.
Most of those traditions, however, weren't around in the early days of America. Though some Dutch settlers were known to color eggs with the juice of beets, spinach, etc., to most of the Colonies, Easter was a sacred day to be observed with little fanfare. It marked the end of a holy season, and the more flamboyant celebrations were reserved for other holidays like May Day.
A 1790s men's magazine did note the flowers used to decorate the churches on Easter Sunday, saying how adorning the church in these newly-blooming bursts of color reminded us of the resurrection--for like Jesus, they had been in the ground, seeming dead. But with the new season came new evidence of life.
Most Colonists would have had extra church services during this Holy Week. Traditional dinner on Easter Sunday for many was lamb. But afterward there was certainly no Easter Bunny delivering baskets of goodies, nor hunts for colored eggs.
This has long been
my favorite holiday. Though commercialism is present, it's not nearly as rampant as at Christmas; the earth is turning green and colored with flowers; the air is warming; and as I dwell all week on the stories of my Savior and what He did for me, I know that my reflections likely align with those of believers going back thousands of years. Traditions surrounding this day have changed less over time than those of other holidays. And as a history lover, I find beauty in that continuity.
I will leave you this Holy Week with a Puritan prayer about the Resurrection, from
Valley of Vision.
O God of my Exodus,
Great was the joy of Israel’s sons,
when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy when the
Redeemer’s foe lay crushed in the dust.
Jesus strides forth as the victor,
conqueror of death, hell and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death,
tramples the powers of darkness down,
and lives forever.
He, my gracious surety,
apprehended for payment of my death,
comes forth from the prison house of
the grave free,
and triumphant over sin, Satan and
death.
Show me herein the proof that his
vicarious offering is accepted,
that the claims of justice are
satisfied,
that the devil’s scepter is
shivered,
that his wrongful throne is
levelled.
Give me the assurance that in Christ
I died,
in Him I rose, in his life I live,
in his victory I triumph, in his
ascension I shall be glorified.
Adorable Redeemer,
Thou who wast lifted up upon a cross
art ascended to highest heaven.
Thou, who as Man of sorrows wast
crowned with thorns,
art now as Lord of life wreathed
with glory.
Once, no shame more deep than thine,
no agony more bitter,
no death more cruel.
Now no exaltation more high,
no life more glorious,
no advocate more effective.
Thou art in the triumph car leading
captive thine enemies behind thee.
What more could be done than thou
hast done!
Thy death is my life,
thy resurrection my peace,
thy ascension my hope,
thy prayers my comfort.
Roseanna M. White pens her novels beneath
her Betsy Ross flag, with her Jane Austen action figure watching over her. When
not writing fiction, she’s homeschooling her two children, editing and
designing, and pretending her house will clean itself. Learn more at www.RoseannaMWhite.com
O God of my Exodus,
Great was the joy of Israel’s sons, when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy when the Redeemer’s foe lay crushed in the dust.
Jesus strides forth as the victor, conqueror of death, hell and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death, tramples the powers of darkness down,
and lives forever.
He, my gracious surety,
apprehended for payment of my death,
comes forth from the prison house of the grave free,
and triumphant over sin, Satan and death.
Show me herein the proof that his vicarious offering is accepted,
that the claims of justice are satisfied,
that the devil’s scepter is shivered,
that his wrongful throne is levelled.
Give me the assurance that in Christ I died,
in Him I rose, in his life I live,
in his victory I triumph, in his ascension I shall be glorified.
Adorable Redeemer,
Thou who wast lifted up upon a cross
art ascended to highest heaven.
Thou, who as Man of sorrows wast crowned with thorns,
art now as Lord of life wreathed with glory.
Once, no shame more deep than thine,
no agony more bitter,
no death more cruel.
Now no exaltation more high,
no life more glorious,
no advocate more effective.
Thou art in the triumph car leading captive thine enemies behind thee.
What more could be done than thou hast done!
Thy death is my life,
thy resurrection my peace,
thy ascension my hope,
thy prayers my comfort.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2011/04/resurrection-a-puritan-easter-prayer/#sthash.ipF4NwHc.dpuf
O God of my Exodus,
Great was the joy of Israel’s sons, when Egypt died upon the shore,
Far greater the joy when the Redeemer’s foe lay crushed in the dust.
Jesus strides forth as the victor, conqueror of death, hell and all opposing might;
He bursts the bands of death, tramples the powers of darkness down,
and lives forever.
He, my gracious surety,
apprehended for payment of my death,
comes forth from the prison house of the grave free,
and triumphant over sin, Satan and death.
Show me herein the proof that his vicarious offering is accepted,
that the claims of justice are satisfied,
that the devil’s scepter is shivered,
that his wrongful throne is levelled.
Give me the assurance that in Christ I died,
in Him I rose, in his life I live,
in his victory I triumph, in his ascension I shall be glorified.
Adorable Redeemer,
Thou who wast lifted up upon a cross
art ascended to highest heaven.
Thou, who as Man of sorrows wast crowned with thorns,
art now as Lord of life wreathed with glory.
Once, no shame more deep than thine,
no agony more bitter,
no death more cruel.
Now no exaltation more high,
no life more glorious,
no advocate more effective.
Thou art in the triumph car leading captive thine enemies behind thee.
What more could be done than thou hast done!
Thy death is my life,
thy resurrection my peace,
thy ascension my hope,
thy prayers my comfort.
- See more at: http://www.judydouglass.com/2011/04/resurrection-a-puritan-easter-prayer/#sthash.ipF4NwHc.dpuf
