This year, let the joy, mystery, and depth of Easter soak in a little longer.

“Eastertide…” Perhaps you haven’t heard that word before. Ten years ago, I certainly hadn’t. I can’t even remember where I heard it first. It was sometime during the five years I belonged to a church plant in New York City. Regardless of where exactly I first encountered it, I’m glad I did, and am excited to share a little bit about it. 

Most of my life, I celebrated Easter as something of a finale; the feast at the end of Lent’s long fast (though I didn’t often fast). I’d join the larger-than-usual church crowd to sing along with a worship band accented with an Easter choir. I’d enjoy Easter dinner with family and friends. And then, after dishes were done, leftovers were packed into Tupperware, and everyone hugged goodbye, I’d take a peek at my schedule to make sure I had everything ready for the next day. And Monday came, and Easter passed. 

As I grew, in age and in my faith, I found myself wishing I had done more for Easter. I wished I had time to make it more intentional, more significant. It is THE event of the church year after all. I so often felt it had snuck up and slipped by. I found myself wishing I had spent more time in both reflection, plumbing the profound depths of Easter, and in celebration, giving it the attentive joy it deserves. 

It turns out I was not alone in this feeling. Far from it! Our early Christian brothers and sisters felt quite similarly. Just as ancient Jews felt the escape from Egypt warranted a multi-day feast, early Christians felt the Resurrection deserved more than a day’s observance. Even before the Church agreed on what belonged in the New Testament, Christians were broadly and joyfully celebrating Easter as a fifty-day feast season, all the way from Easter Sunday to Pentecost. This season was, and is, known as “Eastertide.”

And Eastertide isn’t only an ancient practice. Protestant church fathers (Martin Luther and John Wesley among them) included the full Eastertide season in their liturgical calendars, and Eastertide maintains its 50-day slot today in the church calendars of our Catholic, Orthodox, and Anglican brothers. 

Isn’t that typical? Just when I find in myself a little zeal to approach something in my faith more intentionally, I have only to take a quick look around the Church to find brothers and sisters doing so already. Throughout history, and even now, Christians across denominations embrace Eastertide as a season soaked in joy, slow wonder, and the rediscovery of life as Resurrection people.

Now, I’m a Browncrofter. While I love our Christian siblings across denominations, I’m neither Orthodox nor Catholic, Anglican nor Wesleyan. How might a Browncrofter let Easter soak in between now and Pentecost? Well, we don’t need a liturgical calendar. All we need is a heart hungry to sit in the Easter story a little longer, to soak in Easter joy a bit more. Here are a few simple yet intentional ideas to practice Eastertide this year, to give Easter a little more time to soak in.

1. Add small celebrations to normal rhythms

In numerous liturgical prayers of the historic church, an extra “hallelujah” is added during the Eastertide season. How might you infuse a little more joy, a little more celebration into your normal routines during Eastertide? Light extra candles at dinner. Buy (or bake) dessert. Play some music. Have a dance party with the kids. Say a toast of gratitude before every Sunday dinner. Share together an Easter prayer from Every Moment Holy.

2. Soak in the Easter stories

Between now and Pentecost, spend time in the Resurrection narratives. Read slowly through the final chapters of the Gospels, especially the events after the Resurrection. Don’t rush. Let the details sink in. The words and actions of Jesus after His resurrection have so much to teach us. Let them do so.

3. Embrace hope in the waiting, in the mystery

Eastertide isn’t just about joy—it’s also about waiting in the mysterious (but hope-laden) in-between. The disciples weren’t expecting the kind of messiah Jesus turned out to be. Between Resurrection and Pentecost, the disciples didn’t know exactly what He was up to. They simply knew He was alive. That was hope enough. The Gospels linger in the space between Resurrection and Ascension. The tomb was empty, but the world wasn’t yet dramatically changed. That should sound familiar. In a significant way, we still live in Eastertide, in the now-but-not-yet. We live in a time when Jesus has risen, but all things are not yet new, and we’re often not sure what exactly He’s up to. Eastertide invites us to consider this in-between; to reflect on the disciples’ waiting, confusion, and mystery, and there take comfort amidst our own. Spend time with God, sharing with Him the mysteries, questions, and unanswered longings on your heart, even as the men on the road to Emmaus shared theirs.

So this year, don’t rush. Don’t leave Easter in the dust. As spring gradually emerges in the flowers and trees around us, let the joy, profound depth, and mystery of Easter gradually soak into you. Let it gradually nourish you over these 50 days, and bring how you see your life, neighbors, fears, and future into fuller bloom.

And if you see me in the lobby over these next few weeks, don’t be surprised if I greet you with “Happy Eastertide!” He is Risen.