New York City, NY — by Mika Chipana
This story was originally published on New York University’s Washington Square News.
For as long as I can remember, Easter has always been the most significant Christian celebration of the year for my family. Although different denominations celebrate this holy day with slight variations, the meaning remains the same. God’s son died on Good Friday and rose again on Easter Sunday in order to save all of humanity. It’s the only death that brings joy instead of sadness to me and my fellow churchgoers.
The time between Good Friday and Easter Monday, a public holiday in South Africa, brings back memories of people flocking to church. Easter meant that my family would get ready in their Sunday best — formal spring dresses or a suit — on Good Friday, and then celebrate with thousands of others through song and ministry. Everyone in attendance feels like family — not biologically — but our collective celebration binds us together.
Some people rely on the constant of a church service. Others find joy in the annual Easter egg hunt. For my young mind, Easter came in these two baskets (no pun intended) — religious and secular. One basket had me wearing my dress shoes to church. As a churchgoer, I know that no other time of the year warrants thousands flocking to church for three straight days.
Read the rest of the story at Washington Square News.