On Resurrection
Easter has always been my favourite. If you’ve not caught on already, I LOVE SPRING. It’s that time when everything comes alive again – from tulips sleeping underground, to our winter-weary bodies ready to chuck the sweaters and break out the capri pants.It’s resurrection time, friend.There's a song I have to listen to a few times each Easter Sunday. I grew up with it as an Easter anthem. You learn hymns well when your Mama is the church pianist, and, if you're a Lutheran kid, you really look forward to the peppy Easter Sunday hymns after the sad dirges of Lent. My Mama would pound out HE LIVES like it was the first Easter ever, every single year. I know these words by heart:
I serve a risen Savior, He’s in the world today;I know that He is living whatever men may say;I see His hand of mercy, I hear His voice of cheer,And just the time I need Him, He’s always near.
And I’m teaching our girl the chorus, which requires very enthusiastic singing:
He lives, He lives,Christ Jesus lives today!He walks with me and talks with meAlong life’s narrow way.He lives, He lives,Salvation to impart!You ask me how I know He lives?He lives within my heart. (This line always gets extra loud, slow-singing, enthusiastic emphasis.)
This year, as we sat in our Good Friday and Easter Sunday services, the word whispered to my heart was resurrection.
Situations kept coming to mind and all I could pray was resurrection. “Resurrect it, Lord.”
Marriages that seem dead.Hearts that seem too broken to heal.Seasons too difficult to move through.Bombings in churches and hotels half-way around the world, leaving other mothers with empty arms.Resurrection. Although Easter might seem like it’s over, and we eat the leftover chocolate and move on, it’s not. This song? It actually is our anthem. It’s resurrection week, friend.
He lives.
He lives.
Since God raised Jesus from the dead, we are people living in the reality of resurrection, and anything is possible. We are the people who rise up again, and again, and again because we know that this isn't the way it should be but we have hope that this isn't all that there is. Resurrection. This resurrection doesn’t necessarily look like we think it should. And, just like in Jesus’ story, some of the people closest to us may actually not even believe it is possible. The grief may simply seem too painful, the loss too final. But this God, who raised Jesus from the dead, resurrects us, day after day after day, doesn't He?
I read Romans 8:10 – 11, (okay, all of Romans 8, because it why stop when it's good?) and it gives me the words to explain why I have hope…And Christ lives within you, so even though your body will die because of sin, the Spirit gives you life because you have been made right with God. The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you. And just as God raised Christ Jesus from the dead, he will give life to your mortal bodies by this same Spirit living within you. (NLT)See it there? He doesn’t just give us hope for the future – a new life for when this body dies, whenever that happens, but he gives life to our mortal bodies by the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead. Resurrection.Resurrection, friend. He's giving life to your mortal body, even now. Even in this situation you find yourself in. He lives. You live.As much as we, who know Jesus, recognize His death on Good Friday, every other single day of the year we need to recognize His resurrection life. This is what sustains us, friend. We are resurrection people, living because He lives.
On Easter Sunday, we eat, drink, and are merry because our Redeemer lives. Almost 2,000 years after He died and rose, we celebrate. Isn’t that incredible? It matters that He is risen. Indeed. To me, it is proof of His kindness, goodness and faithful love. This resurrection hope changes everything for me. I am so grateful.
Rejoice, rejoice, O Christian, lift up your voice and singEternal hallelujahs to Jesus Christ the King!The hope of all who seek Him, the help of all who find,None other is so loving, so good and kind.
(He Lives, Alfred H. Ackley)