Post-Paschal Blues: Maintaining the Joy of the Resurrection in the Tomb of the World

 

Every year, Orthodox Christians ascend the mountaintop of Great Lent, Holy Week, and finally Pascha. We fast, pray, prostrate, and keep vigil—pouring out our hearts in preparation to greet the Risen Christ. And then suddenly… it ends. The bells fall silent, the church grows quieter, and the world moves on as if nothing happened. No one is proclaiming “Christ is Risen!”. No more palm branches, midnight light, or triumphant chanting. Just everyday life again.

This ache—this spiritual emptiness after the feast—is what some call the Post-Paschal Blues. It’s the feeling of reentering a world that has already forgotten the Resurrection, a world that celebrates holidays with “one-and-done” consumerist fervor and then discards them like seasonal decorations. But in the Orthodox Church, Pascha isn’t one day. It is forty days of radiant joy, echoing the forty days the Risen Lord remained on earth, teaching His disciples and preparing them for Pentecost.

In these post-Paschal days, we must resist the temptation to fall back into spiritual sleep. Christ has called us out of the tomb, and we must not go back in. As we sing during the Liturgy:

“Let all mortal flesh keep silence… Let us lay aside all earthly cares.”

These aren’t just words for Holy Saturday—they are instructions for life.

The Paschal troparion reminds us daily:

"Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life."

The first part is a public declaration, a historical fact: Jesus Christ rose bodily from the dead. The second part is a Gospel witness to the power of that resurrection—not only was Christ raised, but so were others:

“And the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised; and coming out of the tombs after His resurrection, they went into the holy city and appeared to many.”

(Matthew 27:52–53)

This happened. Whether or not we saw it with our eyes, it was recorded by the Evangelists and proclaimed in every liturgy. Just because the world no longer believes, doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

In fact, this is our mission now: to carry the light of the empty tomb into a world that still lives in darkness. Christ says:

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

(Matthew 5:16)

If the world won’t greet us with “Christ is Risen,” let us greet it first. Let us keep singing. Let us say Christ is Risen at work, at school, in public, and in private—not “Happy Easter,” a term now diluted and confused with everything from chocolate bunnies to pagan fertility myths. The Resurrection is not seasonal—it is cosmic, and its proclamation is our birthright as Orthodox Christians.

We do not have to suffer the Post-Paschal Blues. Instead, we can live Pascha as a state of being. We are not “Easter worshipers.” We are Christians—disciples of the One who trampled death by death, and bestowed eternal life on all in the tombs. Even in a world that forgets, let us remember. Even in a world that slumbers, let us arise.

Like Lazarus, four days in the grave, we have been called forth—not for silence, but for resurrected witness. Pascha is not over. It has only just begun.

In the spirit of St. Seraphim of Sarov, we are reminded that the joy of Pascha is not seasonal, but eternal. His radiant greeting—“Christ is Risen, my joy!”—was not just a Paschal formality, but a revelation of his constant awareness of the Resurrection and his deep love for every person as an image of God. In times when we feel the weight of the “Post-Paschal blues,” we would do well to remember this saint’s example. Let us carry that same resurrected joy into the mundane, into the ordinary, into the world that no longer echoes with Easter bells. May our own hearts become a living Pascha, and may we greet the world—whether friend, stranger, or skeptic—not with tired resignation, but with bold faith and the joy of the empty tomb: Christ is Risen, my joy!