Photo by JKalina on Unsplash
The betrayal, the darkness of Friday, or the surprise of Sunday?
Compiled by Jennifer Anandanayagam
Easter is just around the corner. When I got some reprieve from the rat race that is my life, a question came to me, probably plagued by the news and all that is happening in the world right now.
Which part of the Easter story—the betrayal, the darkness of Friday, or the surprise of Sunday—feels most like my actual life right now and why?
It was an interesting thought, one that forced me to sit with the many pleasant and unpleasant things that I was holding in tandem in my orbit. And so I posed the question back to a few fellow Anglicans in Atlantic Canada (and around the world), individuals I’ve come to know and be inspired by.
Here are their answers:
“The betrayal: One of Jesus’ chosen 12 betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. In our day, countries betray their neighbours for greed, colleagues betray business partners, and relatives swindle relatives of their inheritance.
The darkness of Friday: Cancer, suicide, and drugs cause death and despair. At our lowest point, we ask, please, take this from me.
The surprise of Sunday: Where is the body? Who rolled the stone? Who is the figure in white?
This is the miracle of Easter! Because there will always be betrayals, there will always be sadness, sickness, darkness, and despair, but Jesus is there for us throughout. He knows our needs; he recognizes our losses, our worries, and our despair. He brings us hope when we think there is no hope.
He says, “I am the way, the truth, and the light. Whoever believes in me will not perish but have everlasting life.”
“The world feels dark to me these days. It feels like the darkness of that Friday long ago when Jesus, having been betrayed by people who had professed to love him, gave the ultimate sacrifice so we could have eternal life. Sadly, the darkness of war and hate and greed today feels like another betrayal of Jesus. Did we learn nothing? Did his sacrifice mean nothing? I’m pretty sure God is very disappointed with us, but as long as there is the glimmer of light on Easter morning, there is hope, right? I am praying that the world will see the light.
“The Betrayal. Saint Peter has always been a fascinating figure to me. In many ways, I find that I can relate to him. Like Peter, I love deeply. Like Peter, I speak honestly and sometimes boldly. And like Peter, I am human and weak.
I often find myself wondering: What if I had been there that night? What if I had stood in the Garden of Gethsemane with Jesus on Maundy Thursday? Would I have had the courage to follow Him faithfully, or would I have faltered like Peter?
This is the same Peter who boldly proclaimed to Jesus, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.’ It is the same Peter who confidently declared, ‘Even if everyone else falls away, I will never leave you.’
Yet only hours later, when Jesus was arrested, Peter denied Him three times, saying,
‘I do not know the man.’
It is easy to read this passage in Scripture and question why Peter did what he did. From the distance of history, his denial can seem surprising or even disappointing. But when I pause and reflect honestly, I must ask myself a harder question: Would I have been any different? When your friend is being arrested and the atmosphere is tense with fear and uncertainty, would I have been bold enough to stand beside Him?
There are moments in my own life when I realize that my courage is not always as strong as I would like it to be. Sometimes I hesitate to speak openly about my faith in certain settings. At times, I avoid engaging with something religious on my phone if I notice someone watching. I find myself behaving differently depending on the audience around me.
In those moments, I have to ask myself: Am I really so different from Peter? If I had been present on the night of Jesus’ arrest, would I truly have stood firm, or might I too have denied Him out of fear?
Recently, I have been going through a difficult time in my own life. One of my close friends has stopped speaking to me without explanation. The experience has left me feeling hurt and confused. In moments like this, I cannot help but think about what Jesus must have felt during those final hours before His crucifixion.
He faced betrayal, abandonment, and denial from those closest to Him. He knew the suffering that lay ahead. He knew the pain He would endure on the cross. He even knew that Peter—one of His most devoted followers—would deny Him in His darkest hour.
Yet Jesus loved him anyway.
After the Resurrection of Jesus, Jesus met Peter again by the sea and asked him three times, ‘Do you love me?’ Each time Peter answered, ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.’
Those three questions mirrored Peter’s three denials, and in them we see something extraordinary: not condemnation, but restoration.
This moment reveals a powerful truth. Jesus knows our weaknesses. He knows that as humans we fail, we fall short, and at times we betray Him in small and quiet ways. Yet His response is not rejection but forgiveness. When we repent and return to Him, He welcomes us back with grace.
That is the beauty of the Christian faith.
We serve a Saviour who understands our humanity, who forgives our failures, and who restores us even after we stumble. For that reason, I feel deeply blessed to be a Christian—to know the love of a living Saviour whom I can call my Father.
May we all strive to love Him more boldly, even when it is difficult.
God bless you all.”
“If I am honest, the part that feels most familiar to me is the space between Friday and Sunday. Which feels closest to real life. Many of us have known moments of loss, trauma, and even betrayal. In different ways, we all carry crosses in our lives, just as Jesus carried his.
Five years ago, on May 30, I had a liver transplant. I died on the operating table and was given another chance at life. Please don’t get me wrong—I’m not comparing myself to Jesus. But moments like that change you. Big things change in everyone’s life when you face the edge of it.
When Jesus returned, the apostles didn’t immediately know what to do next. There was confusion, uncertainty, and awe. But there was also hope—the realization that something new had begun.
That’s what Easter often feels like to me. Not just the joy of Sunday morning, but the slow discovery that even after darkness and fear, life can begin again.”