I can barely remember how it got started. Easter is one of those holidays that didn't resonate with me. I liked new clothes as a kid, the egg hunts, the Easter basket, but it always seemed like a very serious, holy holiday that was mostly observed with a lot of fluff. I wanted something more meaningful, but I'm not one of those model moms who has all these instincts towards decorating for holidays and pulling off traditions. I purchased The Good Book Cookbook and learned a little about food in the Roman Empire and food that was common to the Jewish people of antiquity. I do like to cook, and I love history.
When hubby & I were younger, we'd alternate between our families of origin for Easter, so we were never at home that weekend. But the Thursday before Easter, we were always home, and that is the day, in the traditional Easter week, that Jesus ate The Last Supper with his disciples. I didn't want to call our celebration The Last Supper...eek. Jesus was eating the Passover meal with his disciples, so we've always called it Passover. I really don't know what a seder is, but people use that word all the time when I say "Passover."
We decorate eggs to have for this meal (the Romans loved hard-boiled eggs), and I tell my girls the myth of Simon of Cyrene and the colored eggs. I buy lamb (yum! but so expensive), which none of the kids like (well, the youngest does now). I make a vegetable that the book tells me is authentic, usually cabbage in olive oil and wine or asparagus. We always have parsley, and I tell the girls that it represents the bitterness of slavery. I make Waldorf salad, which lo and behold is called "haroseth"--it represents the mortar the Israelites needed to build bricks. We have sparkling grape juice and light candles. And the girls make matzoh, which we dip in balsamic vinegar. Oh, and I make a green salad, a sure sign in our house that it's a special meal.
I used to conjure up some kind of desssert from my cookbook, which usually involved honey and whole wheat flour, but now we buy chocolate cheesecake, the sampler with a variety of chocolate flavors.
Over the years, we have discussed what Passover meant to the Jews, and what Jesus did in becoming our Lamb. There is so much symbolism and meaning to delve into! Now, of course, the children roll their eyes, but that just means we've done a good job. We usually read about Jesus (sometimes from Exodus), and we used to watch The Ten Commandments afterward.
But my favorite part of our Passover is that it's just us. We're a pretty introverted family (don't tell Lizzye), and this quiet event has no eyes on us. I intentionally don't clean the house. I don't get dressed up. I don't fuss over the kitchen being clean. We celebrate completely as we are, which meant that tonight Lizzye asked if she could read Luke in her "ghetto voice" (the answer was no). Abby gets whatever piece of cheesecake she wants, no matter what the rules are for everyone else (half a slice, try two) because you just can't argue with her. And Beka can frown all she wants.
I remember years ago, meal over, the kids running out in the backyard to swing, and Johnny wandering off to surf the internet. I would load the dishwasher, and when it was dark we'd watch a movie. We didn't sing a hymn. We didn't follow an educational book on seder. We were just us, before God with what we know from the Scripture, celebrating Jesus.
Abby is going off to college, and I don't know if we will keep up this tradition. Of course, at New Year's Eve when I decided not to make chocolate monkey bread for midnight breakfast, the kids almost rioted, so we'll see.
But I want to encourage you: do whatever small thing you do. Do it without show, like you're laying a single brick at a time in a wall you're building. Persist, even if your lamb is so rare your husband won't eat it or your completely forget the bitter herbs until the end or no one has time to decorate the eggs. I pray God blesses what you build.
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