02/04/2026
While it was still dark
‘While it was still dark…’ (John 20:1). That’s how it begins. Easter does not begin in the light. It begins in the dark. And if we are honest, it feels dark (again) for many. There is a sense of uncertainty in the air again. Wars and rumours of wars. Rising costs that touch everyday life, fuel, groceries, the simple act of getting to work or to the shops. Conversations that sound strangely familiar. Talk of tightening, of adjusting, even of returning to ways of living we thought we left behind when the pandemic started to abate. It has, in some ways, a familiar feel. And into that, Easter speaks.
Mary Magdalene came to the tomb not with answers, not with clarity, not with a sense that everything would be alright. She came with grief. She came because she couldn’t not come. That’s what love does. Even in the dark, even when we don’t understand, love keeps walking. And it is there, in that place, that something has already happened. Not everything was resolved. Not everything was clear. But the stone had been rolled away.
This is the strange and quiet promise of Easter. God does not wait for the light before he acts. Resurrection is not the reward for when things finally make sense. It comes to us, while it is still dark. We may feel that we are living somewhere between Good Friday and Easter Sunday at the moment. We may feel that we are in that in-between time, that Holy Saturday space, where there is no clear way forward. But Easter reminds us, this is not the end of the story. Christ is risen. And that means that even now, even here, even while it is still dark, new life has already begun.
Your Fellow Servant, Rev Dr Mark Vainikka
Bishop Lutheran Church of Australia, Queensland District