Easter begins in the dark, with people carrying spices toward a sealed tomb. The women in Mark’s Gospel are not certain, not hopeful, and not prepared for what they will find. They are simply walking.

Along the way, they ask a question they cannot answer: who will roll away the stone? It hangs in the air, unresolved. And still, they keep going.

This sermon explores the kind of faith that does not rely on clarity, certainty, or control. A faith that looks, from the outside, like poor planning. A faith that keeps moving even when the outcome is unclear.

When the women finally look up, the stone has already been rolled away. The revelation was not something they created or solved. It was something they encountered.

Easter is not only about what happened at the tomb. It is about the ongoing act of lifting our gaze, of seeing again, and of recognizing that new life is already unfolding, often before we are ready to perceive it.