Easter: A Cause for Celebration
Author
Stephanie Jenkins
Date
March 30, 2026
As Holy Week approaches, my mind often drifts back to an Easter I spent in Romania. I’ve tried, more than once, to recreate what I experienced there—but I’ve never quite been able to.
To understand why, I have to go back a bit.
In 2006, my church planned a mission trip to Romania. A group of ten women would spend their days in a hospital caring for abandoned babies. I felt drawn to go—but I hesitated. My own children were young, and the thought of leaving them for that long felt overwhelming. Over time, that hesitation turned into conviction. I sensed God asking me to trust Him—not just with the children I would care for overseas, but with the ones I would leave at home. So I made a quiet promise: If someone drops out and they call me, I’ll go.
Two weeks before the trip, the call came.
I said yes—but I was completely unprepared. My passport wasn’t even up to date. And yet, one by one, every obstacle moved. It was as if God was clearing the path ahead of me.
Our first full day in Romania was Resurrection Sunday.
We walked to church through streets lined with stray dogs and crumbling sidewalks. Trash piled up on corners. The buildings felt worn, almost colorless. It wasn’t beautiful in the way we often define beauty.
But what struck me wasn’t what I saw—it was what I felt.
Overwhelming joy.
As we walked, every person we passed greeted us the same way:
“Hristos a înviat!”—Christ is risen!
And the response came just as quickly, just as joyfully:
“Adevărat a înviat!”—He is risen indeed!
This joy wasn’t reserved for inside the church walls. It filled the streets. It echoed on buses, in restaurants, on sidewalks. Everywhere we went, people proclaimed it to one another—strangers, friends, everyone.
And when we arrived at the church, the joy only deepened. There were warm embraces, double cheek kisses, and then again that same declaration—Christ is risen!—spoken with a kind of wholehearted delight that caught me off guard. This wasn’t a culture known for outward emotion. And yet, here it was—unfiltered joy. It wasn’t manufactured. It wasn’t performative. It was just… real.
I had spent my entire life attending Easter services. But I couldn’t remember ever experiencing anything quite like this.
It made me wonder:
Did the resurrection mean something different here?
As I looked around, the marks of hardship were everywhere. Years of oppression had left their imprint on the city and its people. And I couldn’t help but think—maybe that’s why the resurrection felt so alive. Maybe hope always feels more precious when you’ve known hopelessness.
I think about how people celebrate the end of a war. My father told stories of the joy that erupted when World War II ended—dancing, parades, people flooding the streets. The kind of celebration that couldn’t be contained.
And I wonder…
If that kind of victory stirs such joy, what should the victory over death awaken in us?
Scripture gives us a glimpse. When the Ark of the Lord returned, David danced with all his might—so freely, so fully that it scandalized those watching. He didn’t hold back. He couldn’t. How much more should we celebrate our Lord’s return from the grave?
Jesus conquered the enemy. He let us know the end of the story and who the victor is. Death has lost its grip. We are forgiven, restored, and held in a hope that does not run out. There is no greater cause for celebration!
And yet—if I’m honest—so often our Easter joy feels… restrained. Polite. Contained within a service, rather than spilling into the streets.
This Holy Week, as we remember Jesus’ final days—His words, His acts of love, His sacrifice—I’ve been asking a different question: What would life feel like if the resurrection hadn’t happened?
To sit, even briefly, in that space is to feel the weight of what we’ve been given. Because we don’t live in that story. We live in the one where Sunday came. And maybe that’s the invitation—not to manufacture emotion, but to recover wonder. To let gratitude grow until it becomes something we can’t keep to ourselves.
Resurrection Joy and Fresh Expressions
I can’t help but think about what I witnessed in Romania and what it might mean for the future of the church—especially for Fresh Expressions. What I experienced there wasn’t a program or a strategy. It was a people so shaped by the reality of the resurrection that their joy naturally overflowed into everyday life.
It happened on sidewalks. On buses. Around tables.
It was good news carried in ordinary voices in ordinary streets.
That’s the heartbeat of Fresh Expressions: cultivating communities where the reality of Jesus—alive, present, victorious—is felt so deeply that it can’t help but be shared. Where resurrection joy shows up in coffee shops, dinner tables, recovery groups, walking trails, and neighborhood spaces.
Places where people don’t just hear
“Christ is risen” once a year…
but encounter the living Christ in the rhythms of everyday life.
Maybe the question for us isn’t simply how to celebrate Easter better.
Maybe it’s this:
What would it look like to build communities where resurrection joy is so real, so tangible, that it naturally spills out into the world around us?
Christ is risen.
He is risen indeed.

About the Author
Stephanie Jenkins
Stephanie Jenkins is an entrepreneur, author and speaker. Stephanie has a Masters in Social work, and is currently working on her Master of Divinity. She is also a 5th Degree Black Belt and martial arts instructor specializing in Ladies Self Defense. She is the founder of InHer Power and has traveled domestically and internationally speaking at women's events and teaching self defense. Stephanie has held a variety of ministry roles in the church and joined the Fresh Expressions team of mission strategists in 2025. She is currently cultivating multiple Fresh Expression experiments in central Florida.











