Dr Vassilia Orfanou, PhD, Post Doc
Writes for the Headline Diplomat eMagazine, LUDCI.eu
An opinion piece
“Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.” — Pope John Paul II
Every year, Easter dawns softly—sometimes unnoticed in the rush of springtime plans or holiday preparations. But if we pause long enough to really feel the season stirring around us, we might sense what Easter has always been trying to say: that in every ending, there is a beginning. In every sorrow, a seed of joy. And in every tomb, the possibility of resurrection.
Whether you approach Easter through the lens of Christian faith, personal spirituality, or simply the changing rhythm of the seasons, this sacred time carries a message that speaks to all of us. It’s a message of transformation. A message of return. A message that, even after the longest night, morning comes.
The Heart of the Easter Story
At the center of Easter is a radical event: the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It’s more than a miraculous moment in a historical timeline—it is the turning point of the Christian narrative, the triumph of love over death, of hope over despair.
On Good Friday, Jesus—betrayed, beaten, crucified—entered into the deepest suffering. And on Easter Sunday, He rose, not in vengeance or power, but in quiet, world-altering grace. As the Gospel of Matthew records: “He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.” (Matthew 28:6)
In that moment, something changed—not only for believers, but for the very fabric of what we call possible. The message? Death is not the end. Fear is not the ruler. And love, when it is real, always finds a way back to life.
As theologian Frederick Buechner once wrote, “Resurrection means the worst thing is never the last thing.”
Resurrection in the Everyday
But Easter isn’t just about something that happened two thousand years ago—it’s about something that continues to happen every day, in quiet corners of our lives and hearts. We all experience Good Fridays—the heartbreaks, the losses, the disappointments that seem too heavy to carry. And we all long for Easter mornings—the unexpected moments of joy, the healing we thought would never come, the courage to start over.
In nature, we see the same story play out. The world wakes up from winter not with fanfare, but with small, faithful signs: a crocus pushing through cold soil, birdsong returning to empty trees, light stretching longer across the sky. In this, too, Easter speaks—reminding us that rebirth often comes not in a flash, but through grace that builds quietly.
Author Anne Lamott put it this way: “Hope begins in the dark… if we wait and watch and work, hope will rise.”
A Call to Renewal
Easter invites us not just to observe, but to participate. What in us is ready to rise? What is waiting to be forgiven, released, healed, or begun?
Maybe this year, Easter looks like reaching out to someone you’ve drifted from. Maybe it’s allowing yourself to grieve something you’ve held inside for too long. Maybe it’s daring to believe again—in yourself, in others, in the good still possible in this world.
It could be as simple as taking a deep breath and deciding that grace, not guilt, gets the final word. Or as profound as finding your way back to faith after a long journey through doubt.
Easter doesn’t ask us to be perfect—it only asks us to be open. Open to mystery. Open to healing. Open to a love that never stops pursuing us.
“Easter says you can put truth in a grave, but it won’t stay there.” — Clarence W. Hall
A Celebration for All
While rooted in Christian tradition, the spirit of Easter has a wide and welcoming embrace. It is a celebration that transcends dogma, drawing people of many paths into a shared longing for wholeness and renewal. It’s about family, community, and the unseen threads that connect us across generations.
It’s about setting a table and making room—for laughter, for stories, for silence, for spirit. It’s about remembering that even in a world aching with division, there is still time to mend, still reason to gather, still cause for joy.
Come As You Are
So this Easter, wherever you find yourself—strong or tired, joyful or grieving, searching or steady—know that you are not alone. This story, this season, this sacred rhythm, holds room for you too.
Come as you are. Come with your questions, your hopes, your burdens. And let Easter do what it does best—whisper that resurrection is real, that love is stronger than death, and that it’s never too late to begin again.
Let yourself rise.
Featured Photo by Eren Li: https://www.pexels.com/photo/smiling-girls-in-bunny-ears-lying-on-floor-at-home-7169138/
