Easter is not limited to the passion and death of Christ; it also

“Easter is not limited to the passion and death of Christ; it also includes the dismal tragedy of life unlived by the many, and all the loss of passion and truth that goes with it.” Thus wrote Michael Leunig, the poet and philosopher of the modern age, whose gentle yet piercing words remind us that Easter — that ancient symbol of death and resurrection — is not only about one divine story, but about the soul of humanity itself. In this reflection, Leunig looks beyond ritual and doctrine and speaks directly to the human heart. He calls us to see that the tragedy of the world is not merely that men die, but that they do not truly live; not merely that Christ suffered, but that countless souls live without passion, purpose, or truth, entombed within lives of quiet resignation.

The origin of this quote lies in Leunig’s lifelong meditation on the sacred woven through the ordinary. As an artist and cartoonist, he often spoke of the divine not as a distant power, but as a quiet whisper within human experience — in kindness, in vulnerability, in joy, and in sorrow. Here, he expands the meaning of Easter, one of the holiest of Christian feasts, beyond the event of Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection. For Leunig, Easter is a mirror to the human condition. The cross symbolizes not only Christ’s suffering, but the universal agony of the unlived life, of those who, fearing failure or pain, bury their gifts before they have bloomed. The empty tomb is not only Christ’s — it is the tomb within every soul that dares not rise.

When Leunig speaks of “the dismal tragedy of life unlived by the many,” he points to a quiet, hidden death — the death of spirit that occurs long before the body fails. It is the tragedy of those who move through the world safely, efficiently, yet without wonder; who follow the motions of existence but never feel the fire of creation or the pulse of truth. They survive but do not awaken, labor but do not love, consume but do not give. Such lives, he warns, are like sealed tombs — polished on the outside, hollow within. The great sorrow of the world is not the loss of years, but the loss of aliveness, of the sacred energy that gives meaning to breath.

In the story of Easter, Christ faces suffering not as punishment, but as passage — through darkness to light, through death to resurrection. So too must each human being walk this inner path. To live fully, one must risk pain, misunderstanding, even heartbreak, for it is through the passion — that burning engagement with existence — that the soul is resurrected. The man who avoids pain also avoids joy; the one who hides from truth hides also from love. To embrace life in its fullness is to bear one’s own cross — to face fear, endure loss, and yet remain open-hearted. Thus, Leunig teaches that Easter is not a date on a calendar, but a daily resurrection, an inner awakening from numbness to vitality, from despair to hope.

Consider the story of Vincent van Gogh, who, though scorned and broken by the world, lived with relentless passion and truth. His life was one of agony — poverty, loneliness, and mental torment — yet he painted with a heart ablaze, his brush guided by something larger than reason. He lived the tragedy of suffering, but not the greater tragedy of a life unlived. His art was his resurrection, his defiance of despair. Through him, we see that it is better to burn briefly with light than to dwell forever in safe, silent shadow. Leunig’s words call us to that same courage — to live in such a way that, though we fall, we do not fade.

The lesson, then, is as eternal as Easter itself: that to live truly, one must be willing to die — not merely in the flesh, but to comfort, to fear, to illusion. One must risk vulnerability in order to find meaning, risk love to find connection, risk failure to find truth. The resurrection of the soul begins when one steps beyond mere existence into the realm of being — where every act, no matter how small, is infused with consciousness and care. Easter, Leunig reminds us, is not only Christ rising from the grave, but every human heart rising from apathy to awareness, from the death of indifference to the life of love.

So, my child, remember these words: “Easter is not limited to the passion and death of Christ.” It is the story of you — of every person who has ever felt the dull ache of unlived life. Let not your days pass in shadow. Seek your resurrection now, while you breathe. Speak truth, even when it trembles in your throat. Love, even when it breaks you. Create, even when the world does not understand. For in the courage to live passionately and truthfully, you will find the truest meaning of Easter — not the promise of immortality, but the awakening of the immortal within.