The Sunrise Service
I’ll never know how much it cost, to see my sin upon that cross. – Chris Tomlin
Since I go to a very large church, I knew the services would be packed out on Easter Sunday morning. Which doesn’t just mean “more people to worship with.” It also translates into crazy traffic, terrible parking situations and large amusement park-like crowds. So I convinced a few friends to attend the sunrise service with me at 7 am.
The sunrise service holds a special place in my heart. Every Easter was the same growing up at Dorseyville Alliance Church, and that meant the Weber family attended everything offered that Sunday: sunrise service, Easter breakfast, Sunday School and the main worship service. All in all, about 5+ hours of church activity - and that was just the morning. After all that, an afternoon nap was not even a question. The sunrise service was like a rite of passage. During the later worship service, you made eye contact and gave a head nod to those who had also been with you during the sunrise service. Yes, the respect was now mutual. You were in the club. They may as well have sold t-shirts afterward: "I survived the Dorseyville Alliance Easter Service Marathon."
It wasn't pretty getting there though. Getting up before the sun wasn’t a standard occurrence in our household. And since none of the Webers were (or ever will be) “morning people,” we didn’t exactly roll out of bed singing a happy tune. My brothers and I expressed more than our share of complaints, retorts and flat-out whining while getting ready for church. (And you guys wondered where I got it from.) My mother would try to coax us out of our warm beds by telling us to pretend we were going to Disney World, referencing our big vacation a few years prior that required us to rise at an ungodly hour to get to the airport on time. Sorry Mum, but ham, hardboiled eggs and chocolate milk in the church fellowship hall is NOT Disney World. No, not even if Dad wears his Goofy tie. And without fail, my nice spring-like Easter dress would not be prepared for whatever blustery conditions that an early Pennsylvania morning in April brought to us that year. It might be 70 degrees by noon, but at 6:30 am when we were getting in the car, it was most likely hovering around the freezing mark. However, despite everything that seems “unfun” about these memories, those dark, early Easter mornings were so special to me. And every time I get up before the sun, I will be reminded of them - and smile. :)
I’ll never know how much it cost, to see my sin upon that cross. – Chris Tomlin
Since I go to a very large church, I knew the services would be packed out on Easter Sunday morning. Which doesn’t just mean “more people to worship with.” It also translates into crazy traffic, terrible parking situations and large amusement park-like crowds. So I convinced a few friends to attend the sunrise service with me at 7 am.
The sunrise service holds a special place in my heart. Every Easter was the same growing up at Dorseyville Alliance Church, and that meant the Weber family attended everything offered that Sunday: sunrise service, Easter breakfast, Sunday School and the main worship service. All in all, about 5+ hours of church activity - and that was just the morning. After all that, an afternoon nap was not even a question. The sunrise service was like a rite of passage. During the later worship service, you made eye contact and gave a head nod to those who had also been with you during the sunrise service. Yes, the respect was now mutual. You were in the club. They may as well have sold t-shirts afterward: "I survived the Dorseyville Alliance Easter Service Marathon."
It wasn't pretty getting there though. Getting up before the sun wasn’t a standard occurrence in our household. And since none of the Webers were (or ever will be) “morning people,” we didn’t exactly roll out of bed singing a happy tune. My brothers and I expressed more than our share of complaints, retorts and flat-out whining while getting ready for church. (And you guys wondered where I got it from.) My mother would try to coax us out of our warm beds by telling us to pretend we were going to Disney World, referencing our big vacation a few years prior that required us to rise at an ungodly hour to get to the airport on time. Sorry Mum, but ham, hardboiled eggs and chocolate milk in the church fellowship hall is NOT Disney World. No, not even if Dad wears his Goofy tie. And without fail, my nice spring-like Easter dress would not be prepared for whatever blustery conditions that an early Pennsylvania morning in April brought to us that year. It might be 70 degrees by noon, but at 6:30 am when we were getting in the car, it was most likely hovering around the freezing mark. However, despite everything that seems “unfun” about these memories, those dark, early Easter mornings were so special to me. And every time I get up before the sun, I will be reminded of them - and smile. :)
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home