The very first Easter started out quite, calm, and somber. A small group of women—full of grief—prepare to visit the tomb of their beloved friend named Jesus.

Their friend’s death was still raw in their hearts and minds. For he had only just died on Friday.

For years Jesus had taught his friends and followers of this new way of life. He had turned the world on its head with his teaching. He had done many miraculous things. He had filled his friends with hope and excitement. Yet now his body lay in a tomb.

As the story is told, in the middle of the night Jesus had been taken by the authorities, accused unjustly, and put to death before anyone could object. They tortured him mercilessly. They beat him to the very edge of death. And then they killed him by hanging him on a tree. All the while, they mocked him for who he said he was . . .

King of the Jews. Savior of the world.

Now, as these women walked to his tomb, they lamented. They cried. Their close friend was now dead. Yet that is not the end of the story. In many ways, it was just the beginning. . .