Last week, I woke up to the scent of chickpea and bacalao soup on a Spanish Catholic Good Friday morning. My wife, who is Spanish and a non-practicing Catholic, and I, an atheist Greek baptized Orthodox, love traditions. In fact, I even baptized my son as Orthodox to ensure he is branded as Greek. This year was easy, Jesus was crucified twice one week apart.
My wife couldn’t help but jab at my “superiority complex,” reminding me that other cultures also have their Easter traditions. It’s true, it’s not just Greeks. The Spaniards celebrate by eating Potaje, a chickpea and bacalao potage, followed by torrijas, a Spanish-style mix of French toast and bread pudding. Balancing two Easters can be quite a challenge when they coincide.
However, the collision of the two Easters means three days of non-stop feasting, from Good Friday to Saturday night at Anastasi, and finally Easter Sunday. It’s a culinary marathon that requires strategic planning to avoid overindulgence, but hey, who’s complaining? The food is delicious, and my son, now an adult, benefits from experiencing two separate traditions.
This weekend, on Orthodox Easter, my son and I will attend midnight Anastasi.
We’ll arrive just in time at 11:45 pm, armed with candles and foil windbreakers to receive the “Holy Light.”
It comes at midnight and has travelled from Constantinople (Istanbul), where the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese has remained since 380 AD. We’ll join voices in a Byzantine chant to sing “Christos Anesti,” or “Christ has Risen.” My son, Anastasios, is my old man’s resurrection. He’s never met my father, who died too young at 62.
Residents may complain about the noise, traffic, and what they call “weird wog shit,” as someone once shouted out when I was a teen. But I do this, so my son knows that we are not Western, and that we, as Hellenes and as Orthodox, are anchored to something very ancient, intangible, authentic, and unique.
At church, as we wait for midnight, I will rant, “Mate, see, we’re not ‘white.’ Ours is the first step away from Judaism, we are the first rabbinical early Christians… Jesus was a radical fighting the Romans… we have been in Iraq, Egypt, Syria, Ethiopia, and Asia Minor 800 years before Western Christianity and the birth of Islam…”
“The Crusaders, Frank, Anglo, and Saxon Christians killed Middle Eastern Christians, they sacked Constantinople in 1204, two hundred years before the Ottomans took over…”
My son, undoubtedly irritated, will say, “Stop, Dad, quiet, it’s church… show some respect, man!”
The priest announces, “Christos Anesti,” and the congregation responds with “Alithos Anesti,” as candles flicker in the darkness, creating a mesmerizing scene.
After the liturgy, we’ll head home or to my koumbara’s place to eat avgolemono (chicken), halva, drink wine, and compete in egg bumping.
On Easter Sunday, we’ll head to a friend’s place and eat the slaughtered lambs on a spit. Luckily, we don’t have to slaughter them ourselves. When I was a kid, I often thought my uncle brought us short-term lamb pets, only to realize later that they ended up on a spit.
Lamb, koulourakia, halva, and more.
A fusion of flavours and traditions that make your Easter celebrations unique.
In the end, it’s not about religious beliefs, but about coming together as a family and celebrating. Balancing two Easters has its challenges, but the memories, traditions, and shared experiences are priceless. And thankfully, they only collide every four years, which is good for Jesus who undergoes the passion only once.