Easter begins in an unexpected way. Not with crowds, not with power, not even with the Apostles – but with a small group of women, coming quietly to the tomb in the early morning. All four Gospels tell us this. Mary Magdalene is named, along with others – Mary the mother of James, Salome, Joanna. Some of them appear only here in the whole of Scripture. They are not famous. They are not powerful. And yet they are the first witnesses of the resurrection.

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This is remarkable. In the culture of the time, their testimony would not have been readily accepted. If this story were invented, it would have been told differently. But the Gospel tells the truth, even when it seems inconvenient. God chooses whom he chooses. And here is the heart of Easter. God does not act according to human expectations. He raises up the humble. He entrusts his greatest work to those who might otherwise be overlooked.

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Saint John Paul II often spoke of the dignity of every human person, reminding us that in Christ no one is insignificant. Easter makes this visible. These women, largely forgotten by history, are remembered forever because they were present, faithful, and open to what God was doing. There are two other details in the Gospel that are easy to miss, but deeply important.

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First, the resurrection takes place in darkness. The women come “while it was still dark” (John 20:1, ESV). By the time they arrive, Jesus has already risen. We often imagine the resurrection happening at sunrise, but in fact it happens before the dawn. This matters. The light of Easter is not simply the light of a new day. It is a light that breaks into the darkness. Christ rises in the midst of the night, overcoming it from within. That is why we light the Easter candle in the darkness. It is not just a symbol of morning. It is a sign that Christ is the true light – the light no darkness can overcome. Secondly, this happens on the first day of the week. Not the last day, not the end of a long struggle, but the beginning of something new.

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In the Book of Genesis, the first day is when God begins creation, separating light from darkness. On Easter Day, God begins a new creation. Sin and death are overcome. A new life is opened to us. Pope Benedict XVI once reflected that the resurrection is not just an event of the past, but a new dimension of life that begins now. Easter is not only something we remember. It is something we enter. And this has meaning for us today. We all know what darkness can feel like – uncertainty, loss, failure, regret. We can carry burdens that seem heavy and unchanging. Easter does not deny these realities. Instead, it speaks into them. Christ does not wait for everything to be bright and easy before he acts. He rises in the darkness. He brings light precisely where it is most needed.

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And he calls us, like those first witnesses, to recognise what he has done and to share it with others. The women ran from the tomb with “awe and great joy.” They did not fully understand everything, but they knew something extraordinary had happened. That is often how faith begins – not with complete understanding, but with a glimpse of hope, a moment of light. Easter tells us that no life is beyond God’s reach, no situation beyond his power to transform. The same Lord who rose in the darkness continues to bring light into our lives.

Christ is risen. A new beginning has been given. And each of us is invited to live in that light.