Dr. Nick’s Reflections: Easter Sunday and Our Sunday Best

Dr. Nick’s Reflections: Easter Sunday and Our Sunday Best
The Day That Changed Everything

There’s something sacred about Easter morning. The sun rises a little more golden. The air feels softer, calmer. There’s anticipation, reverence, and a kind of quiet joy that seems to settle into everything—from the songs sung in church to the rustle of pastel dresses and pressed slacks, to the familiar scent of lilies in the sanctuary. Easter Sunday, for many of us, is the one day we bring out our “Sunday best.” And I’m not just talking about clothes.

Yes, there’s tradition. Polished shoes, bow ties, dresses with lace and flowers, and grandparents who comment on how grown-up the kids look. For decades, maybe centuries, this has been part of the rhythm—an external expression of an internal reverence. We dress up not out of vanity, but because this day means something. This day changed everything.

Easter isn’t just another Sunday on the church calendar. It’s the Sunday. The cornerstone of our faith. The reason the early church gathered on the first day of the week. The moment where sorrow turned to joy, death to life, defeat to victory. The day the tomb was found empty and everything Jesus said was proven true—not metaphorically, not symbolically, but powerfully and physically. He is risen.

Going to Mass or church on Easter isn’t just a habit. It’s a return. A reunion. A renewal. It’s standing shoulder to shoulder with others—some we know, some we don’t—and proclaiming the same truth with generations before us: “Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.” It’s letting the hymns swell and the Scripture speak. It’s pausing from the busy, broken, chaotic world and remembering that the grave doesn’t get the final word. Love does. Grace does. Jesus does.

And yes, we show up in our “best.” But it’s more than fabric and color—it’s our best intentions. Our best effort to show up, to believe again, to hope again, to be transformed again. Because maybe we’ve felt a little spiritually wrinkled or weathered these past few months. Maybe we’ve doubted. Maybe we’ve gone through pain or silence or seasons where God felt far away. But Easter breaks through all of that. It reminds us that resurrection is possible. For Jesus—and for us.

This day tells us that no matter what Friday brought, Sunday is coming. The betrayal, the crucifixion, the buried dreams—they don’t end the story. On Easter, we’re invited to live differently. To rise with Him. To clothe ourselves in kindness, mercy, humility, and love—not just in wardrobe, but in heart.

I don’t know what you carried into Easter this year. Maybe grief. Maybe regret. Maybe unanswered prayers or a heart heavy with things you don’t talk about out loud. But I do know this—Easter speaks directly to those places. To the wounds that haven’t healed. To the questions that haven’t been answered. To the longing you still carry. Resurrection doesn’t erase the pain—but it declares that pain is not the end.

So whether you went to church this Easter in high heels or worn-out sneakers, a full suit or jeans and a hoodie—what matters is that you showed up. That you opened your heart to the possibility that God still moves stones. That grace still runs wild. That death has been swallowed by life.

Because here’s the truth we sometimes forget: Easter isn’t just a past event. It’s a present promise. A continual invitation to step into newness of life. Jesus didn’t just rise for then—He rose for now. For every time we’ve felt defeated. For every moment we’ve questioned our worth. For every shadow we’ve walked through, wondering if the light would ever return.

He is risen—and so can we.

So yes, we wear our Sunday best on Easter. But may we also bring our best—our hearts, our hopes, our worship, our belief that love wins and life conquers and Jesus lives. And may we leave church not just with full hearts, but with renewed purpose. May the truth of the resurrection take root in our everyday lives—in the way we speak, forgive, listen, love, and show up for others.

Let this Easter be more than a beautiful morning. Let it be a beginning.

He is risen.
He is risen indeed.

— Dr. Nick