Raised Now

Isaiah 25:8-9

The prophet sees an ultimate end to misery in all of its forms. He announces hope that will know no end whatsoever. He sees the end of even death itself.

As Christians, we are quick to jump to Easter and the word of resurrection. We hear only foreshadowing of the great event at the core of our faith--Jesus raised from the dead on the Third Day.

In making this jump, though, we inadvertently remove the hope from here and now, projecting it into the future as something we will only experience when we die ourselves and enter heaven (we hope). 

We do not mean to do so, but that is what happens. We leap to the funeral, missing all the life between birth and that moment. 

Isaiah calls us not to do that. There is a lot of living to do before we get to the last rites. 

As we read the gospels, we discover that the evangelists knew that Isaiah had a point. If you read the post-Easter narratives, you cannot help but note that resurrection is only as real as the life it inspires here and now. Even Paul joins in (cf. I Corinthians 15), arguing that what resurrection empowers us to do is to make the leap of faith, entrusting ourselves to God, and taking the risk of living by the other-centered, self-sacrificial love revealed in Christ in a world that knows next to nothing about such a life and ridicules anyone seen as foolish enough to actually try it. 

Resurrection is the greatest affirmation of hope given to humanity. It allows us the freedom to fully enter the fray of human existence, free from fear. 

Years ago, I encountered a missionary in Africa who truly embodied resurrection in his ministry. He was Swiss, coming from the Reformed church that also gave us Karl Barth. The missionary practiced Christ’s compassion by plunging fully into the life of the people he met. When he entered an African village, he did so in exactly the same manner that they did; i.e., he let motor vehicles go and walked (he probably walked over most of West Africa). He ate the food they ate as it was. He drank the water they drank as it was. It was a miracle he lived at all, but, for him, connecting to the people as they were trumped everything else. How could he tell them that they were beloved by God while he, as God’s representative, refused to be as they were? Didn’t Christ walk with us AS us? The missionary did so unself-consciously and without fear--what could harm him? He was a child of resurrection! His willingness to walk among the Africans as an African allowed him to make a deep connection that led to understanding, and as they understood one another, there was peace, and as there was peace, God blossomed before them.

So--do not undercut Easter by making it an epilogue for human life--for YOUR life. Instead, allow the promises of hope to lead you through today.