Easter is the high point of the Christian calendar, and rightly so. It is the celebration of resurrection, of life triumphing over death, of hope over despair. But as we come to the empty tomb, it is tempting—almost automatic—for many of us to make the story about ourselves.
We say things like, “Jesus died for my sins,” or “He rose again so I could have eternal life.” These statements are true, but they only scratch the surface. They hint at a deeper reality that is often overlooked: Easter is not primarily about us. It is, first and foremost, God’s story.
When we read the gospel accounts of the resurrection, we are not just seeing a transaction for personal salvation. We are witnessing the central moment in God’s cosmic narrative—a story that began long before us and stretches far beyond us. In the resurrection of Jesus, God is not only saving individuals; He is redeeming creation. Our salvation is precious and profound, but it is not the climax of the story. It is, in many ways, the appendix to a much larger redemption narrative.
From Genesis to Revelation, Scripture reveals a God who is actively at work reconciling the entire world to Himself. The Bible opens with a good creation—one that God calls “very good.” Humanity, made in the image of God, is given the vocation to steward, cultivate, and care for this creation in harmony with the Creator. But sin fractures this harmony, not just between God and people, but within all creation. Thorns and thistles spring up. Death enters. Relationships are broken. The very fabric of existence is torn.
Easter is the beginning of God’s mending of that fabric. In Christ’s resurrection, we see the first fruits of the new creation. Paul writes in Romans 8 that “the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth,” waiting for redemption. Jesus’ resurrection is not just proof of our future resurrection—it is the prototype of a renewed world. The stone rolling away from the tomb is like the curtain being lifted on the next act of God’s drama: the recreation of everything.
When we make Easter solely about our personal salvation, we reduce the grandeur of what God is doing. It becomes a footnote in a much larger divine symphony. That does not mean our individual stories are unimportant—they are intimately known and deeply cherished by God. But we must recognize that they are part of a larger whole. We are not the protagonists of the Easter story; Christ is. And He is not merely rescuing souls—He is restoring the universe.
This broader vision of Easter invites us to live differently. If resurrection means that creation itself is being renewed, then our mission as followers of Jesus extends beyond soul-saving. It includes caring for the earth, seeking justice, pursuing peace, and loving all of God’s creatures. The resurrection means that what we do in this life, in this world, matters. It validates the physical, the ordinary, the material—not as things to be escaped, but as things to be redeemed.
Furthermore, when we centre the Easter story on God and not ourselves, we find freedom from the exhausting pressure to be the heroes of our own lives. The resurrection reminds us that it is God who acts, God who saves, God who restores. Our part is to respond with faith, to live as Easter people—people of hope, people of resurrection, people who witness to the new creation breaking into the old.
Easter is God’s yes to a world that said no. It is His decisive act of love in a world steeped in death. And our salvation—our forgiveness, our eternal life—is caught up in that. We are not the story’s centre, but we are graciously invited into it. Like the appendix at the end of a powerful book, our stories are intimately connected to the main narrative, enriching it and bearing witness to its truth. But they are never the main plot.
This Easter, may we celebrate not just that Christ rose for us, but that He rose to make all things new. May we remember that the empty tomb is not the end of the story, but the beginning of a restored world. And may we live into that story, not as the authors, but as joyful participants in the greatest redemption arc ever told—a story authored by God, centred in Christ, and destined to renew all things.
