On Easter Sunday several years ago, my husband and I were out of town. We were looking for a place to worship. At each church we came across, we seemed to have already missed the service. Eventually, we found a small church in the old section of Salinas, California. That morning’s service is forever etched on my heart and mind.
The pastor announced he would not be giving a sermon. Instead, we would spend the morning praising God for what He had done for us through the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. There was a simplicity and tenderness to the service. The small congregation was an eclectic assortment of people. Some were dressed in their Easter finest, while many others appeared to be homeless and just off the street. The man sitting next to me was disheveled and missing most of his teeth. As we sang a familiar hymn, I looked toward him. Tears were running down his cheeks, as they were mine. At that moment, I saw him as my brother. We were both God’s children, not because of who we were, what we had, or what we did, but solely based on Who Christ is and what He has done for us. We were part of the family of God.
Later in the service, a woman dressed in a purple robe with a big turban on her head suddenly ran down the aisle, praising God loudly. As she rushed down the aisle, another woman, dressed in a beautiful yellow suit, jumped up, ran after her, and threw her arms around her. The woman in yellow just held her and loved her in the most touching scene. I was overcome with emotion and sensed that this was a sacred moment.
The service was almost over when the pastor invited a family of six from Tonga to sing. They sang Jesus Christ is Risen Today acapella and their voices filled the little church with the beauty and richness of any choir I had ever heard. My heart, even now, is filled with joy and my eyes with tears as I recall this incredible moment.
In the unexpected and unplanned, God will always meet us. God has not changed. He is with us.
As the service ended and the offering plate was passed, the pastor announced that the morning collection would be given to four other churches in the area that were struggling. This sacrificial gift brought to my mind the passage in Luke 21:3-4 about the widow whose small offering was worth more in the eyes of Jesus than that of any other. “‘Truly I tell you,’ he said, ‘this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on.’”
I left that service with a profound sense of God’s presence. It reminded me that, as beautiful as Easter pageants, lilies, and choirs are, our God is present in simple things. Our worship is not dependent on the presentation; it is only dependent on the presence of Christ.
Many celebrations and traditions have changed over the years. Some of those changes have made us feel lonely—yet I am reminded that the cross was lonely. Just like my Easter Sunday in Salinas, many gatherings have not taken place the way we planned. But in the unexpected and unplanned, God will always meet us. God has not changed. He is with us, and we can experience grace and joy when we open ourselves to His holy presence.
