EASTER SUNDAY

Christus resurrexit! Christ is risen, Alleluia! These ringing words greet us as Easter morning breaks, armed with a truth so astonishing that it changed our world: Christ is risen. Not metaphorically, not symbolically, but truly, bodily, gloriously risen. The empty tomb is not a historical detail. It is the pivot on which all of Christian hope turns.

Let’s be clear. Even the close followers of Christ did not expect resurrection. They came to the tomb with spices, not songs. They came to honour a dead friend, not to greet a living Lord. Yet, in that place of grief, God’s new covenant began. The stone was rolled away not so Jesus could get out, but so we could see in and understand that death does not have the final word.

Easter tells us that God enters the darkest places — tombs, failures, regrets — and speaks life. The resurrection is not merely an event to admire; it is a power to live by. Paul says, “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation.” Easter is God’s declaration that nothing is beyond redemption.

But resurrection also sends us out. The angel tells the women, “Go and tell.” The risen Jesus meets His disciples and commissions them. Easter joy is not meant to be hoarded; it is meant to be shared. We become witnesses — not experts, not theologians, but people who have encountered hope and cannot keep silent.

Today, let Easter reshape your imagination. Where you see endings, God sees beginnings. Where you see brokenness, God sees the possibility of restoration. Where you see death — in relationships, in dreams, in your own heart — God whispers resurrection.

Christ is risen. And because He lives, we live differently: with courage, with compassion, with a hope that refuses to die.