Pascha in Portland: Tradition, Family, and a Timbers Win
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Although I love spending Easter in Greece, I also really value celebrating it with my family in Portland.
In some ways, it actually feels more special here. In Greece, the entire country is moving through Holy Week together. In Portland, it’s quieter—more contained.
According to most people, Easter already happened the week before. But within the Orthodox community, everything is just beginning.
And somehow, that contrast makes it feel even more special.
(Also, as a bonus—half-off Easter candy.)
Lazarus Saturday
Pascha starts gently.
On Lazarus Saturday, I went to church in the morning. The service feels similar to a typical Sunday liturgy—just shifted one day earlier.
After church, we kept one of my favorite small traditions: pancakes made with Sprite. They’re light, slightly sweet, with a hint of cinnamon—simple, but something I look forward to every year.
The rest of the afternoon was spent folding palm crosses for Palm Sunday. It’s repetitive, a little tedious, but also grounding—one of those quiet traditions that marks the beginning of holy week.
Palm Sunday
Palm Sunday is a happy way to start the week, especially considering the devastating biblical story you are about to experience.
This day commemorates Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem, and everybody is given the palm leaves that were assembled the previous day. There’s kind of a joke about these acting as “Greek car insurance” because many people (including myself) keep the palm crosses in their cars as a sort of blessing for a safe journey.
After liturgy (and renewing our car insurance, haha!), the church hosts a salmon luncheon—served with rice, salad, and a vegan chocolate cake dusted with powdered sugar. It’s one of those meals that’s so tasty you barely notice you’re still fasting.
Holy Week: Balancing Tradition + Real Life
I made it to church Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night this year.
I had planned to go to more services, but my mom was hosting Pascha, so a lot of my time went into helping her prepare the house. Cleaning, organizing, grocery shopping, and getting everything ready for Sunday.
I also spent a few hours making koulourakia, and I tried out a few new shapes this year—my favorite was a spiral heart. I’m really happy with how these turned out, they’re so cute!
Good Friday
Good Friday is one of my favorite services of the entire year.
The kouvouklion, covered in flowers, sits at the center of the church.
The lamentations are sung—some of my favorite hymns—slow, comforting, familiar.
Candles are everywhere, filling the space with warm light, which is so beautiful…and then there’s the reality of so many candles and so many people in a tight, crowded space.
At some point, without fail, someone’s hair gets a little too close to a candle. You don’t even need to see it—you smell it immediately. It spreads through the entire church. (Pro tip: keep your eyes on your candle at all times and avoid wearing flammable hair products.)
At the end of the service, the kouvouklion is carried outside and processed around the block. The whole congregation follows, moving slowly through the streets.
After the procession, the kouvouklion is hoisted up onto a sort of bridge platform so everyone can walk underneath it. As the kouvouklion represents Jesus’ tomb, walking underneath it symbolizes humbling yourself and showing thanks for His sacrifice.
Holy Saturday Morning
Saturday morning shifts the energy completely.
At one point in the service, rose petals and bay leaves are thrown all over the church while people bang pots and pans and sing.
It’s loud, chaotic, and joyful—a sharp contrast to the stillness of the night before.
It’s one of those moments that feels almost impossible to explain unless you’ve experienced it.
Holy Saturday (Real Life Interruption)
In the middle of all of this—I went to a Timbers game.
While I was waiting for the game to start, I was texting one of my best friends in Greece. She was getting ready for the midnight service—ten hours ahead. It made me miss her a lot, and reminded me how different the experience is depending on where you are.
After fasting before communion that morning, I ate a bagel with peanut butter in the car, then had a beer at halftime… which was not my best decision considering how little food I had eaten so far that day. I spent a good portion of the second half feeling slightly woozy.
But the game itself was worth it.
In the 90th minute, LAFC scored what looked like the winning goal. Then VAR ruled it offside. And in the final seconds of stoppage time, the Timbers scored and won.
The stadium completely erupted. I was lowkey worried I was going to lose my voice and not be able to sing along to the Paschal hymn at church that night (I was fine, if it was a playoff game, that might’ve been a different story).
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After the game, it was straight back into Pascha mode.
I went to my mom’s house to help move furniture and set up for the next day. Then home for a quick nap before the midnight service.
Midnight Service (Anastasi)
I had a goal this year: arrive before the lights went out.
I didn’t quite make it.
I walked into a dark, crowded church, trying to find a candle while adjusting to the darkness. It felt a little chaotic and slightly awkward—not being able to recognize who was around me.
Then the flame started spreading.
As the light moved from candle to candle, the room slowly came into focus. I realized one of my friends was standing behind me with her family. I helped her mom fix the wick on her candle and lit it for her.
From there, we all moved outside.
The Gospel was read, “Christos Anesti” was sung, and just like that—the entire atmosphere shifted.
Breaking the Fast
After church, we broke the fast with gyros.
After about 25 days of fasting from meat (and no dairy all of Holy Week), the tzatziki alone tasted incredible.
I got home around 4am—exhausted, but full.
Easter Sunday
The next day, we gathered at my mom’s house.
About 25 people, friends and family, all inside because of the rain. Greek music playing all day, food spread across the table, conversations going for hours.
We ate around 4 pm and stayed long after.
There were some attempts at Greek dancing later in the evening, but I think we were all too full and tired.
Once all of the guests had left, it was just my brothers, my mom and me.
At around 3 am my brother started Greek dancing zembekiko, but it was 2 am after a long day so it then turned into a contemporary interprative dance. My mom and I were crying from laughing so hard.
I ended the night listening to music with my little brothers and singing while I played the guitar. I didn’t get home until 4 am because we were having too much fun.
Closing Reflection
Pascha in Portland looks different than Pascha in Greece.
It’s quieter. More contained. Something you have to choose to step into, rather than something happening all around you.
But in some ways, that makes it even more meaningful.
If you’ve never experienced Orthodox Pascha and want to understand the traditions more deeply, check out my full guide here.
