Sunrise Gathering: A Practice That Reminds

The Moravians practice something called watch words—a single verse given for the year to guide prayer and attention. In 2025, a Moravian Pastor, who is also a friend, assigned one to me: Psalm 30:11.

I wrote it in multiple translations at the front of my journal, next to my life verse, 1 Thessalonians 4:11. It has stayed with me:

“You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy.”

Even now, it reads like a quiet promise.

We are in the season of Lent, waiting. At the church I pastor, River Corner Church, we have stepped into this in some intentional ways this year. There is a weight to this time. Winter lingers, both outside and within. But signs of life are beginning to show—longer days, warmer air, the first hints of spring. It can’t come fast enough for me. It is in this natural season of rebirth that we meet Resurrection Sunday, a prophetic reminder of salvific hope that lives in that tension between what has been and what is coming.

Over the years, since I have been pastoring, I have always noticed that worship through song often feels a little louder on Resurrection Sunday. Not because life suddenly becomes easy, but because we are reminded of what is true and the promised hope we have. Jesus lived the life we could not live and died the death we could not escape. Truly, we can trust Him because he has been there and done that, and even more, has shown us that in His resurrection, He shows us that death is not the end. Mourning does not have the final word. Psalm 30:11 names the work God continues to do—turning sorrow into joy.

A Morning Like This

When I read Psalm 30, which lives at the front of my journey next to 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12, it often brings to mind the hymn “Morning Has Broken,” made widely known by Cat Stevens but originally written by Eleanor Farjeon. It is a simple expression of gratitude for a new day. Farjeon meant it as a hymn and is in many hymnals. As I understand it, later she included it as a poem for kids that joyfully reminds them of the joys of new promises each and every day.

But there is no morning like Easter morning.

In the Gospel of John, the author tells us it was early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark. Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb carrying grief. Everything she hoped for seemed lost. She truly was in a wilderness moment. That morning had to feel darker than any other morning before it.

In that space of isolation and desolation, Mary assumes the worst. The body is gone. The story is over. Not only did she lose her friend, political hopes, and Mesanic leader, but she also couldn’t even pay him the respect of a proper goodbye. However, as she is sobbing and heaving in the garden, flooding the plants with the tears of a saddened reality, Jesus speaks her name, and everything changes.

What was despair becomes hope. What was weeping becomes joy. What was mourning becomes something like dancing. I don’t quote The Message often, but I think what Eugene Petersen gives us here in his take on Psalm 30:11 mirrors the emotion Mary would have shown:

“You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers. I’m about to burst with song; I can’t keep quiet about you. God, my God, I can’t thank you enough.”

That morning was suddenly different. It was transformed. To be fair, no mourning or morning has been as dark as that one, after Jesus said, “Mary” (20:15).

This is not just a moment in the past. It is the center of the Christian life.

While It Was Still Dark

The early church never moved past this moment. They continued to hold on to many Jewish gatherings and celebrations, but they also began to gather on the first day of the week to remember it—to live as people shaped by resurrection. Those days were reminders of the “way of life” they had been given. Perhaps we have become too familiar with Sunday mornings that we no longer realize the promise and hope this day is meant to bring for us.

For generations, the church has also practiced “Sunrise Gatherings” on Resurrection Sunday in the Easter season. There is something fitting about gathering while it is still dark to remember this hope, to sing songs of promise, and to give our suffering and struggle to God so that it can be transformed into joy through the promise of a risen Christ. This is the meaning of practicing a sunrise gathering on Resurrection Sunday. Light breaks into darkness in a way that feels both ordinary and profound. It reminds us that what once seemed final is no longer so.

These gatherings are simple. They require getting up early. They are often quiet and unpolished. Sometimes they are practiced in or near cemeteries where we reflect on the hope to come.

Sunrise Resurrection Gatherings carry deep meaning for practitioners.

They are acts of worship that not only move us to surrender but also form us, reminding us that God still meets people in the dark and brings them into the light.

If you have never been part of this “traditional practice” or it has been a while for you, stretch yourself this year. Step into the light with the church gathered to remember “He is risen.”

Sunrise Gathering in Lancaster, PA

If you don’t have a place to worship, we invite you to gather with us at River Corner Church, we will gather on Resurrection Sunday for a simple sunrise gathering.

We will meet at 6:45am, as a simple community of Jesus followers, rooted in Lancaster County, PA. Our plan is to overlook a small sheep pen on the corner of our property, with the cemetery behind us, in the emerging green grass, as we watch the sun rise over the rolling hills and horizon.

There will be a few songs, scripture, prayer, and space to reflect as the sun rises. No production, no pressure—just a chance to begin the day remembering that Jesus is alive and that Jesus’ resurrection still speaks.

God is still moving into the neighborhood. The Resurrection is still bringing new life. Easter is still changing lives.

Hear me. If you are searching, tired, hopeful, or simply curious, you are welcome. We like to say, “Come as you are—just be yourself.”

Closing Thought

Let’s face it, there is nothing “magical” or “transformative” about practicing Resurrection Sunday during the Easter season. Yes, it is a symbolic reminder and moment to remember and observe. However, what makes it formative and transformative is our ability to accept the hopeful invitation to live differently.

Mary heard her name, and she “turned toward him,” she embraced him, and then she “went to the disciples with the news.” What matters about the Easter season and Resurrection Sunday is that we respond like Mary. We must hear the invitation, turn to him in response, embrace Jesus and Jesus’ message, and then live it out to others.

On Resurrection Sunday, I am looking forward to remembering Psalm 30:11. It is Psalm 30:11, and this song from David, that reminds us of the kind of God we worship. We call the God who who turns mourning into dancing and clothes His people with joy, Abba. And let’s face it, that’s crazy. May we never forget.

That morning transformed all morning and darkness that followed. We have been given a victorious and joyous identity to live into. Through Sunrise Resurrection Gatherings, we remember that.

So, the question is not just whether we will attend something, but whether we will allow that reality to shape us.

Even now, in ways seen and unseen, God is still doing that work.

You are Invited to River Corner Church

We would love to have you with us for this simple gathering.

River Corner Church gathers at 524 River Corner Road in Conestoga, PA. We will gather at 6:45 AM for our Sunrise Worship Gathering and then at 10:00 A.M. for our normal Sunday morning gathering. Come as you are—just be yourself.

You can find more information at www.rivercornerchurch.com.

Thanks for stopping by. I am Jeff McLain, and I write about the Quiet Way—a life shaped by the Lord’s Prayer, spiritual disciplines, and sustaining habits. Much of my work explores theology at the intersections of everyday life and the invitation of the scriptures to lead a quiet life. If this post encouraged you, consider sharing it with a friend, leaving a thought in the comments, or subscribing so you don’t miss future reflections. You can also find more of my writing at the Lead a Quiet Life blog on Patheos, and you can listen to the Discovering God Podcast, where we explore the scriptures and the life of faith together. I genuinely enjoy conversation. If something here resonated with you, feel free to reach out by email or connect with me on Facebook or Instagram.