It can be tempting to view Jesus’ resurrection as just a past event, something we celebrate with joy on Easter Sunday before quickly returning to our ordinary routines. Yet Easter is not confined to a single Sunday. It is a season that reminds us how the resurrection changes the way we live. What does it mean to wake up on an ordinary Monday and carry the same responsibilities, worries, and unanswered questions, and still believe that Christ is risen? Easter invites us to live as resurrection people, shaped by the conviction that death and despair never have the final word because God is making all things new. It reminds us that faith is worked out every day in kitchens, workplaces, classrooms, and conversations with others.

During Eastertide we find ourselves in a curious in-between place. Like the disciples, we have celebrated the resurrection, yet we await the full fire of Pentecost. In the lectionary reading, Jesus is preparing his disciples for a seismic change, promising the Holy Spirit who will come as an advocate. There is both comfort and challenge in this waiting, because it requires trust before we fully understand what God is doing.

The disciples feared being “orphaned”; the Greek orphanos suggests being left vulnerable and without a home. We may also recognise this fear in our own lives as we navigate uncertainty, carry grief, or wrestle with deep questions about the future. We know what it is to feel unsettled, suspended between what has been and what is yet to come. Yet the Easter message is that the risen Christ remains present with us through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit is the gift of Easter made personal. Rather than admiring Jesus from a distance, we are invited to participate in his life. As Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

This is not a legalistic test, but a description of what love naturally does as it shapes our actions. To love Christ is to inhabit the world differently by choosing patience over irritation, kindness over indifference, and grace over fear.

Resurrection is not simply about what happened to Jesus, but what now becomes possible for the whole of creation. The empty tomb is less an ending than an opening; a doorway into God’s future breaking into the present. To live as Easter people is to become attentive to signs of new life in places that once seemed closed off by loss or disappointment: a relationship beginning to heal, a community rebuilding after hardship, or a small act of generosity that interrupts everyday selfishness.

This can be challenging, because we are often impatient people. We long for certainty and resolution. Yet the days between Easter and Pentecost teach us the spiritual discipline of waiting. The disciples did not move immediately from resurrection joy to Spirit-filled boldness. There was a season of learning how to dwell in promise before its fullness arrived. In this, they mirror our own experience. We too live in unfinished stories, holding hopes that are still fragile and emerging.

But Christian waiting is not passive; it is expectant. The disciples gathered, prayed, and remained together. So too, we are called to make space for God through prayer, worship, scripture, and acts of mercy, not as obligations, but as ways of opening ourselves to the Spirit’s transforming presence. In doing so, we become more attentive to God’s quiet work within us and around us, often in ways we only recognise with hindsight.

As we continue this Easter journey toward Pentecost, we hold fast to Jesus’ promise: “I will not leave you orphaned.” The risen Christ has not left us alone. The Spirit is given. God is with us still, breathing courage, hope, and new life into the ordinary rhythms of our days. And so we move forward not with all the answers, but with confidence that God’s presence continues to sustain, guide, and renew us.