I was only 4 when I recited my first Easter speech in church. I can still remember it
Christ is risen! Hallelujah!
On this wonderful Easter morning, I am filled with joy, even though the Easter service and pageant that my church has put on since its inception won’t be happening again this year.
Last year, when we could no longer meet in person for worship due to the pandemic, I thought for sure we would be back in church this year. We would be in the pews dressed in our Easter finery, praising God, and smiling proudly as our children and grandchildren recited their Easter speeches.
Children reciting Easter speeches. It is a grand tradition in many Black churches, especially in the Baptist, African Methodist Episcopal and Pentecostal churches. It is a part of the way we teach our children the Easter story.
At my church, The Church of God Tabernacle (True Holiness) in Liberty City, no child is left out of the pageant. The tiniest ones are given one-liners to learn, and parents and Sunday school teachers spend weeks helping them.
“Say it loud, so Grandma can hear you …” is a common refrain.
I am always amazed at how well the pageants turn out. Teachers and parents pray and promise all kinds of goodies: “If you just say your speech for Mommy (or Daddy), then .... ”
Sometimes, the prodding works. After their speech-saying, you might notice how a toddler’s little cheeks have gotten a bit plumper, often cradling a peppermint candy that one of the church mothers slipped to him or her.
Then there are times when a child simply looks out at the audience staring at her, and simply stares back. Sometimes, the little ones just stand there and howl. Loudly.
When that happens, a kindhearted teacher will gently lead the child back to his or her seat. And we in the congregation cheer and applaud because Bishop Walter H. Richardson, our pastor, always reminds us that it’s not easy to stand and perform before an audience.
The congregation resounds with “Amen” because we all remember standing in their little shoes.
I remember the first time I said a speech at my church. I was 4 years old and we still lived in Williston in central Florida.
My Easter dress was pale lavender organdy, trimmed with lace, and I wore white, shiny Mary Janes. I can still remember how my skinny little knees knocked from fright as I recited the speech Mom had taught me:
“Roses on my shoulders, slippers on my feet. I’m my momma’s baby girl, don’t you think I’m sweet?!”
I remember running to my mom and burying my head in her lap, as the congregation applauded. I had completely forgotten about the fancy hairdo of candy curls that my Aunt Marcella had given me for the occasion — the hairdo I didn’t want to sleep on the night before.
By the time I was in junior high school, and attending New Hope Missionary Baptist Church in Liberty City, I was writing plays for my peers to perform at Easter and Christmas.
Then, all too soon, I was grown up, married and teaching my own children to say their speeches. By then, I had become a member of The Church of God Tabernacle (True Holiness) and was delighted to learn that my new church was steeped in the ageless tradition of Easter programs/pageants, where the younger children learned speeches and songs and the older children re-enacted the Easter story.
The youngsters would act out the story of Jesus’ crucifixion so vividly that many in the congregation would be brought to tears. The tears turned into “Hallelujahs” as “Jesus,” now risen, walked the aisles of the sanctuary “blessing” the parishioners as he made his way to the pulpit. The closing song was usually a joyful rendition of:
“He lives. He lives. Christ Jesus lives today! He walks with me and He talks with me along this narrow way. … He lives. He lives, salvation to impart. You ask me how I know He lives? He lives within my heart!”
After church, we’d rush home to change out of our Easter clothes and prepare for another tradition: the Sunday dinner.
So, today, as we are still battling COVID-19, memories of Easters past flood my mind. Yet, through it all, we still find ways to carry on our traditions.
This year, instead of sunrise services in packed churches, some families will greet the sun in their own backyards. Others will tell the story of how the sun comes up dancing for joy on Easter morning. And some wide-eyed child will imagine that image, and one day, years from now, will tell the same story to his or her child.
Yes, we have had to make some adjustments in the way we celebrate Resurrection Day.
But one thing remains the same: Easter still brings us hope.
Riviera Presbyterian recognized for its environmental commitment
Congratulations to Riviera Presbyterian Church on being certified as a PC (USA) Earth Care Congregation by Presbyterian Church (USA)’s Presbyterian Hunger Program through February 2022. The honor speaks to the great commitment that Riviera Presbyterian Church has made to care for God’s Earth.
To become an Earth Care Congregation, according to the church, the church affirmed an Earth Care Pledge to integrate environmental practices and thinking into its worship, education, facilities and outreach. The Earth Care Congregation certification is designed to recognize churches that make the commitment to take seriously God’s charge to “till and keep” the garden.
“Riviera Presbyterian Church is one of the 276 churches that chose to dedicate themselves to intentional care of God’s Earth this year,” said Jessica Maudlin, associate for sustainable living and earth care concerns for the Presbyterian Church (USA).
