Our Big Fat Greek Easter

By Gina Ardito

Every spring, I wind up explaining that, since my husband's family is Greek Orthodox, we celebrate Greek Easter. What are the differences? 

It starts with the date. Often, Greek Easter falls on a different Sunday than the traditional Western Easter. There are three conditions to the Greek calendar when it comes to the celebration of Easter. 

First, the Greek Orthodox Church follows the Gregorian calendar, not the Julian. Second, Easter must occur on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the official start of spring. Still following along? Yeah, I know. I'm dizzy, too. But hang on. The third condition is the easiest to explain and, therefore, my standard reply when asked. Easter must fall after Passover. 

There are some benefits to the different date. When our Easter is celebrated after Western Easter, we get all our goodies for half-price. The downfall? Since my husband was born in April, there have been years when his birthday fell on Greek Easter. (During those years, he hijacks my birthday in August.)

What are the traditions of Greek Easter? Glad you asked. Most are similar to Western traditions. In the days before, we color eggs, though ours are dyed red. We bake a sweet egg bread called "tsoureki" (tsoo-RECK-ee).

Like celebrants of Western Easter, our kids find baskets full of goodies in the morning, we gather together with family, and share a good meal. We drink ouzo (a strong licorice-flavored liqueur).

After dinner is the highlight of the celebration for my family. The dyed eggs are brought to the table, and each person chooses one for the "tsougrisma" (tsoo-GREES-ma). One by one, family members challenge each other to an egg-tapping contest. One person chooses an opponent. The challenger proclaims, "Christos Anesti" (CREE-stose Ah-NES-tee). The opponent replies, "Alithos Anesti" (Ah-lee-THOSE Ah-NES-tee). The two then tap their eggs against each other--pointed end to rounded end--in the hope of cracking the other's egg while leaving his/her egg unblemished. The game continues around the table until only one person has an uncracked side of their egg. That person is declared the winner and is said to have good luck all year.

This year, our Easter will fall on April 12, the week after Western Easter (and two weeks before my husband's birthday. Whew!)

Whatever spring holiday you celebrate in April, may you be surrounded by love, joy, and good fortune. 

"Kaló Páscha!"

Let There Be Candles!

This time of year, though the hours of daylight are so few, the world seems filled with extra light. The shops are full of decorations in every shape, color, and configuration imaginable and most of the decorations feature light in some form - and it's not just the shops. I'm doing my bit with candles in my windows. My neighbor’s window is graced with a menorah–more candles. 

The candles displayed by my neighbor and me are just two examples of the traditions honored at this time of  year as many of us prepare for the celebration of a special day - Christmas–or Hanukkah–or–Kwanzaa–or–Ramadan–or (some holiday unknown to me, but precious to someone).  Mid-winter is a time of holidays, each with a distinct set of customs and a unique manner of observance. Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa are celebrated with special meals and the giving of gifts. The food served and the gifts given vary according to the tradition being honored, but in each they are chosen to remind celebrants of a their heritage. 

Ramadan follows the opposite path by observing the special time with fasting instead of feasting. And yet, even in this completely different tradition, there runs a common thread. All of the holidays involve at least some level of introspection. Underlying all the festivities, all the customs, both merry and solemn, there is a call to examine our innermost selves, to find out and declare what it is that makes our tradition unique. Paradoxically, in doing this, we come  face to face with other traditions and the realization that they are important to those who celebrate them and, with that, comes an awareness of the need for understanding.

Many celebrations throughout the year involve light (colored lights, candles, crackling logs, fireworks), but this is especially true of those that come in midwinter when night falls so quickly. Maybe it’s because these holidays are so close to the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, and we feel a need to light the darkness. Are our candles really symbols of the light we find when we seek within and our need to proclaim it to the world? I feel sure that they are and it occurs to me that this need to proclaim is akin to the force that compels writers to write, painters to paint and composers to compose. It’s the artist’s need to illuminate, to direct a beacon that shines so brightly we cannot fail to recognize and then to proclaim the common humanity that lies beneath our differences.

So, I salute and thank all of you who light candles–whatever type of candle you choose and for whatever reason. Let there be candles - millions of candles of diverse size and shape and color–to celebrate our commonality. Let us put our candles together and keep the darkness at bay.