From the heart of Anglican hope
Dear brothers and sisters in the Risen Christ,
The morning of the Resurrection did not come with lights and trumpets. It came in silence, among weeping women. It came in confusion, fear, and doubt. And yet, right there—in broken hope, in the sheer emptiness of the tomb—God spoke in fullness.
Today, in a time of fractured churches, torn traditions, and weary hearts, the Anglican soul stands again before that same tomb, asking: Where is our Lord? Where is the Love we once knew?
The answer does not come in triumph, but in a name: “Mary…”
One name, one gaze, one Lord who still calls us. Calls us by name.
Anglican faith, in all its brokenness, in its openness, in its wounded beauty, has never stopped returning to the empty tomb. Because resurrected faith begins there—not in certainty, but in faithfulness. Not in perfect knowledge, but in deep hope.
Christ is Risen!
And that means our love is not in vain. Our service, our liturgy, our doubts, our questions—they are not in vain. Our struggle to love one another, to remain one Body, even when that Body feels torn—this is not in vain.
Because Christ rose in the body. Not in theory, not as an idea. In the body. With wounds. With scars. And He calls us to be resurrected in the same way—not without pain, but through pain; not without questions, but despite them.
So this Pascha, we carry not just joy. We carry a promise:
that no death is final,
that no body is lost,
that no love offered in Christ is ever wasted.
From brokenness, fullness is born. From the empty tomb—life.
From a Church that weeps, God still builds a resurrected Church—a Church of love, service, and hope.
Let us be that Church.
Christ is Risen—He is Risen Indeed!
In Him, always yours,
† Petar
a servant of the Resurrection