Easter in Ukraine

Faithful worshipers gathered outside and encircled the historic church with their Easter baskets. Within those decorated baskets lay boiled eggs, dyed blood-red from natural red onion skins, in remembrance of the blood Jesus shed for our sins.  Also nestled in the baskets, on top of lovely hand-embroidered cloths, were round loaves of “paska, which means Easter bread.” (Most had been baked vertically in tin cans of various sizes, topped with white icing and colorful sprinkles.) The rising of the bread, made with leaven, symbolizes Christ’s rising from the dead. (The opposite of unleavened bread eaten at the Passover/Last Supper with His disciples.) Pussy willows are often used in the baskets, a harbinger of long, cold winters turning toward spring. The final touch on each basket was a candle, lit and positioned carefully to avoid catching the rest of the basket on fire. (Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone’s basket ever did!)

A priest, in his embroidered-brocade vestments, came out the cathedral’s center door with a vessel and sprinkling whisk. He flung holy water generously on each basket and gave a sign of blessing. There was enough overspray in the air that we got a little damp, just watching! If I remember correctly, incense was also involved, as he swung the smoking burner to release sweet aromas.

Soon, we entered the dark interior, and smelled the strong aroma of incense. It seemed to live within the walls and icon art. After a while, our eyes adjusted. First, we saw brass or gold stands filled with sand, each holding a multitude of long, thin candles worshipers were lighting. There were no pews. Eastern Orthodox worshipers generally stand for services.

Gary moved further forward into the church with the video camera, and I stood by one of the circular candle stands. I wondered how people didn’t catch sleeves or scarves on fire with the press of people, plus some candles leaning precariously to the side.  All around me, I heard individuals greeting one another in Russian, “Christ is risen,” with the response, “Christ is risen, indeed.” (Though Ukraine had been independent of the USSR for at least 10 years, Russian was still widely spoken in Kyiv. Later, the national language became Ukrainian.) I knew this Easter greeting in Russian and spoke it to several strangers around me.

Suddenly, a man older than I came up close to me and gave me a greeting with a linguistic twist.  He spoke part one of the greeting in Greek. I had heard the Greek form before, so gave the appropriate response in Russian. Immediately, he flattered me and engaged me in conversation in a way that made me uncomfortable, as if he were attempting to “pick me up.” Quickly, I pointed toward the choir screen, in the direction where Gary was, and let the Greek man know, in Russian, that I was married and my husband was right over there. He bowed and melted into the crowd. What a bizarre encounter to have in a church on the eve of Easter!

We did not stay for the night-long liturgy, also aware the choir sings all night. And we’d already heard some requiems of Eastern European composers—intensely beautiful, mournful music depicting the grief of Jesus’ death. (Does anyone remember the achingly-somber music from the Dr. Zhivago movie, when early in the film Yuri’s mother was buried? So haunting and emotional.) After grief, as the Bible says, “joy cometh in the morning!” About 5:00 am the choir would burst forth in resurrection joy. Alas, we just weren’t up for an all-nighter on this mission trip, when we had a big day of video production, and of course worship, Easter morning.

Earlier, at the Music Mission Kiev apartment, the doorbell had rung. Ukrainian friends had dropped by to wish us a blessed Easter, and presented us with the blood-colored eggs and decorated Easter bread.  What a new understanding and appreciation of their culture and faith we were gaining through this weekend’s experiences!

Our plan for Sunday morning was to go where Music Mission Kiev was celebrating Easter on Sunday morning—in a recording studio, of all places! The ministry’s mission is “to use the sacred classics to proclaim the Gospel to the country of Ukraine and the world.” They have started a professional choir and orchestra, planted a church, and served orphans, widows/widowers, and war victims ever since the founders moved to Ukraine in the 1990s. I already knew that before Roger and Diane McMurrin’s move to Ukraine, they’d traveled there to hire a choir and orchestra to present “The Messiah” oratorio by Handel and introduce it to this former USSR nation for the very first time.  Somehow, I expected to hear the famous “Hallelujah Chorus” on this Sunday morning, for sure!  And we did—and with even more splendid music like it, for God’s glory!

This recording studio had seating for 800 people, and it was full. The stage was covered by love gifts of fresh flowers from people who had come to Christ through MMK’s ministry.  There were the Kiev Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, founded by the McMurrins, plus a youth choir led by their conductor son Matthew, a sweet children’s choir, and some other ensembles. The music and messages lifted our hearts toward heaven in a different way than we had ever experienced before. Knowing people were attending who didn’t yet believe, and how deeply thankful all the new believers were, well, just inspired us in a beautiful way.