Easter Day 2026: Hope is risen

Major Jane Mylechreest reflects on the resurrection of Jesus.

Hope feels distant

‘Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance.’ 
(John 20:1)

It was still dark. Mary had stayed there at the cross with Jesus as long as she could, until he said, ‘It is finished’ (John 19:30). His body was taken down and laid in the tomb, and she had to leave him there. She came back again as soon as she could, needing courage to face the task before her: anointing the broken body of the friend she loved. Seeing him but not him, just his body. Facing the future without him. It was still dark.

Did she feel the earthquake as she approached the tomb? Did she hear a far-off grinding sound of the stone pushed aside? As the sun began to rise, did she sense the difference in the dawn?

What she saw at first was that the stone had been moved. She wasn’t thinking ‘risen’, she was merely thinking ‘not here’. Missing. He was already missing, already gone from their lives for almost three days. Had his body been moved, stolen or desecrated? Mary wasn’t yet able to comprehend what Jesus had meant when he said that the Son of Man would rise again on the third day (see Matthew 17:23). The light of understanding was at the corner of her mind, just as the purple streaks at the horizon pushed back the darkness of the night.

Mary went back to fetch Peter and John, who came running. Why would you run to a graveyard? Perhaps they were furious that someone had moved Jesus’ body. Perhaps they wanted to comfort Mary in her distress. Perhaps they just needed to do something, to move their bodies through the grief and fear and anger and darkness that weighed heavily upon them. Perhaps the question was beginning to whisper in their minds. Could it be….?

They ran there together.

Hope begins to rise

‘The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.’ 
(John 1:9)

John arrived first, he tells us, but hesitated outside the tomb. Peter had the boldness to step inside and see those folded grave clothes, left behind because Jesus didn’t need them anymore. Folded neatly, perhaps, because he wasn’t in a hurry and had all of eternity stretched before him. The tomb was temporary; the grave clothes were on loan.

When John was finally able to go into the tomb, we read that ‘he saw and believed’ (John 20:8). Some people just believe – yes. This is it. This is true. Like a lightning bolt, like love at first sight, like a fever breaking, like the curtain pulled away. Without completely understanding, just yes, I believe.

Later John wrote: ‘That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched – this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it’ (1 John 1:1 and 2). But here, at the tomb, he had not yet heard or seen or touched the resurrected Jesus, and yet he believed.

Peter and John, questioning, wondering, the light now dawning, went back to the other disciples but Mary remained at the tomb. She looked in and saw two angels, there to announce the Son of Man was coming into the world again. They could have repeated the song: ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests’ (Luke 2:14). Instead, they said: ‘Why are you crying?’ (John 20:13).

Mary was crying because she loved Jesus – she was forgiven much so she loved much. She was heartbroken, lonely, scared, desperately sad. That’s why she was crying. To her, it was still dark.

Risen hope

‘The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep… The sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name.’ 
(John 10:2 and 3)

The angels knew the next chapter of the story. As Isaiah had said: ‘Arise, shine, for your light has come… The Lord rises upon you and his glory appears over you’ (Isaiah 60:1 and 2). They saw only the light and were puzzled at Mary’s tears.

Then this most beautiful verse: ‘Jesus said to her, “Mary”’ (John 20:16).

He called her name and she knew.

She didn’t recognise him by sight, but by the sound of her name. She knew his voice, she knew his love and forgiveness. In her sorrow and grief he spoke to her and her heart knew it was him. The darkness fell away around her as the Sun of Righteousness (see Malachi 4:2), as he promised, rose to shine again.

Like Mary, Peter and John on that early Easter morning, we are each invited to step out of the darkness of the cross’s shadow towards the empty tomb – and to live in the light and hope of the Resurrection. A hope that is made whole in Jesus. A hope that is living because he is risen.

He calls our names too. He turns to us and quietly says ‘come’.

‘Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you’ (Ephesians 5:14).