He is Risen... He is Risen Indeed

Growing up, our Easter tradition involved waking up, finding our Easter baskets, finding Easter eggs and then heading down to Detroit to go to church with my Grandma Smith and Uncle Bill. Her church was over on Evergreen and Joy, close enough to the hood to be the closest that this group of white, suburban Okemos kids got to the hood. I remember marveling at how well dressed the black families would be in their Easter best. (Small World: This church happens to be the same church that Jason Raitz went to and that his Dad was the Youth Pastor at). All four kids, my Mom, my Dad, my Grandma and my Uncle Bill would pile in the last row, all dressed in our Sunday best (we had some snazzy cordory suits back then). The pastor would always start the service by proclaiming, "He has risen" and we would all respond, "He has risen indeed." We'd sing "Christ the Lord has Risen Today" and a bunch of other songs with trumpet accompaniment, which sounded awesome. My Grandma would placate us with her Beechnut Candys as we would go through the liturgy, anxious to get hooped up on Easter Candy. My Mom's church's Easter service is the standard by which I measure all others, but there's no way to replicate the cool feeling of sitting in the row with my Grandma, my favorite Uncle Bill and my siblings.

Today, my whole family is getting together to celebrate Easter, my parent's 40th anniversary and Emily and Andrew's birthdays. You can be sure that our first greeting to each other will be with the challenge/response of "He has risen" with "He has risen indeed."