There are moments when words feel too small, too fragile to carry the weight of glory. Easter morning is one of those moments.

The sky feels a little wider, as if heaven has leaned in to listen. The sunlight is not just light—it’s promise. And though the tulips bloom and the pews fill and the choirs rise, there is one voice we long to hear most.

And we do.

It comes from the far side of death and the near side of glory. It comes with authority, not volume—with certainty, not sentiment. It is the voice of Christ, risen and reigning:

“Fear not; I am the first and the last:I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore…” (Revelation 1:17–18)

With over 100 occurrences in Scripture, “Fear not” is something God has whispered to patriarchs, prophets, shepherds, and disciples. But this is the final one. And it doesn’t come from a cradle, or even from a cross—it comes from a throne. From the One who walked through death and came out holding the keys.

That is Easter’s anthem.

He is not a memory, he is not a metaphor, he is alive.

And with those words, fear begins to loosen its grip.

Because if Jesus rose—and He did—then the worst thing is never the final thing. The tomb wasn’t strong enough to hold Him, and whatever fear holds you now is not strong enough to silence Him.

He is not just alive—He holds the keys.

“…and have the keys of hell and of death.”

The keys represent authority, dominion. Which means death doesn’t call the shots. Hell doesn’t write the ending.

Christ does.

That’s why the old song still rings true:

“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, all fear is gone.”

That’s not just comfort—it’s courage. It’s the quiet confidence that life has meaning because the grave is not the end.

This world may feel unsteady. The future may look uncertain. But Christ is not shaken. And because He lives, you are not alone in what lies ahead.

So this Easter, let the headlines rest. Let the worries wait. Listen instead for the voice that has never stopped speaking:

“Fear not.”

The tomb is empty. The King is alive. And the future is held in nail-scarred hands.