Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

I have a vivid memory of sitting on the sofa on 23rd March 2020, hearing the announcement that the moment had come for us all to play our part in stopping the spread of COVID‑19 by staying at home. Like many, I felt shocked and unsure of what would come next. And yet, I also knew these restrictions were temporary, and that at some point we would once again step outside our homes.

Seven days later the post arrived. Among the letters was one I had been expecting and praying about yet was suddenly nervous to open: the result of the Ministerial Candidates Selection Committee. To my joy, I was recommended for pre‑ordination training for presbyteral ministry. I sat down, knowing my life was about to change, and a whirlwind of emotions washed over me. Looking back six years later, I can smile—but at the time, the mixture of joy and fear as I prepared to step into something that I knew would be life changing, was overwhelming.

I often reflect on those emotions when I think of Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they went “to look at the tomb” where Jesus had been laid before the Sabbath.

Our Gospel reading from Matthew 28:1–10 dramatically recounts what happened next. Pause for a moment and remember the week these women had lived through: Jesus entering Jerusalem to shouts of Hosanna, the intimate gathering at the Last Supper, the fear as Jesus was arrested, tried, beaten, and condemned. They had watched him carry the heavy cross and then be nailed to it. These two women, along with the disciples and so many others, had placed all their hope in Jesus—and now he was dead, sealed in a tomb.
And then everything changes.

Matthew speaks of an earthquake, an angel descending, the guards frozen in fear, and then the angel’s words: “Do not be afraid.” The women witnessed God at work beyond anything they could have imagined. The God who had seemed silent on Good Friday revealed that even the worst the world could do—even death itself—could not defeat divine love. Jesus had risen.

Then we hear the beautiful line in verse 8: “So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy.” What an honest expression of faith: fear and joy intertwined. As they ran to share the news, they encountered Jesus himself. He quieted their fear, confirmed the angel’s message, and sent them out to proclaim the good news.

This encounter with the risen Christ changed everything for them. Their hope was restored, their purpose renewed. The adventure of sharing God’s love—a task that would stretch, challenge, and inspire them—began with that moment of meeting Jesus and hearing him say, “Do not be afraid.”

This Easter Sunday, we stand with those women at the empty tomb—perhaps carrying our own mix of fear and joy, uncertainty and hope. And yet the risen Christ still meets us, still calls us by name, and still sends us out.

In a world still marked by uncertainty, division, and longing, the message of the resurrection remains as powerful as ever. Jesus meets us not in our perfection but in our humanity, offering peace where there is fear and hope where there is doubt. The empty tomb invites us to trust that God is always at work, even when we cannot yet see the whole picture. And just like the women, we are invited to step forward in faith, carrying the good news into the lives of those who need it most.

So, the question for each of us today is this: How might Jesus be calling you to share the Good News with those around you?
Amen.