Resurrection
Some days I don't feel like the resurrection is coming.
You know, the resurrection. Of the people in our lives we want so badly to come back to us. And the parts of ourselves lying unresponsive at the bottom.
Some days the story seems bleak, like a tragedy. Like Shakespeare is writing it, and high schoolers will have to act it out in literature class five hundred years from now. Characters being taken from the storyline willy-nilly, leaving us standing there, marveling.
I believe the story is intentionally bittersweet. The bitterest of sweet, intentionally. My experience does not reliably tell me this. My experience tells me the bitter removes the sweet, like a zero-sum game where they compete with each other for percentage points. Fight the bitter, taste the sweet! Grab it while you can and eat it fast! Before the bad guys win and the Shakespearean tragedy comes to an end.
There's a book of Puritan prayers called The Valley of Vision, and its introductory prayer says:
"Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high...
that the valley is the place of vision."
I believe against my experience that a paradox exists in this world, and it is that the valley is almost always the place of vision. And the biggest reason I believe it is because I believe in the cross of Christ, and thankfully, also his resurrection.
"Why do you seek the living among the dead?" asks the angel. "He is not here! He has risen!"
Bonhoeffer said the most scandalous part of Christianity is that God comes to us in the cross. The cross is the place of our meeting with God. This place of suffering and scorn -- in this place is the whole of our good news fixed. Indeed, "to be low is to be high." The valley is the place of vision.
And from this place comes resurrection.
"If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of all those who have fallen asleep. For as in Adam all men die, so also in Christ all shall be made alive (1 Cor 15)."
If the message of the cross was a hope for this life only, we would be incredibly disappointed people. Disappointed and disappointing. We would give up on that, if we were smart.
"But in fact," says Paul, "all shall be made alive."
The paradox is that the cross is God's glory breaking in, and that through suffering we triumph. The hope of Christ's resurrection is that we also shall be made alive. We "bear the image of the man of heaven (1 Cor 15)." This means we are living in a tragedy, but a tragedy that turns out to be the sweetest victory of all. It's not that the story isn't finished yet, as some tell me. It's that the story IS finished, already, and the end is resurrection.
"What you sow does not come to life unless it dies." Paul tells us we are like grains planted in the ground. There is no harvest not preceded by dried up, dead seed. "What is sown in dishonor is raised in glory. What is sown in weakness, it is raised in power." The power of God stands waiting to resurrect us. It called Jesus from the grave, and placed all things under his feet. The power of God makes dead things rise. We can't claim it until we die.
Bitter and sweet look inversely related in this world, but they aren't at all. There's a direct correlation between them. My life doesn't usually tell me this, but Christ does. And as Bonhoeffer (again) says, "experiences of grace, alone, don't save you. Grace must be believed." The story of the cross is our story, and the resurrection makes it a story worth believing.
I'm placing my hope in the day the resurrection comes to us. The day my brother comes back to us. The day the dead parts of me rise, and I get to see Jesus, whole. Do you trust in that day? Are you willing to place your bet on this hope? That dying things resurrect?
I'm not sure there's anything else to hope in.
You know, the resurrection. Of the people in our lives we want so badly to come back to us. And the parts of ourselves lying unresponsive at the bottom.
Some days the story seems bleak, like a tragedy. Like Shakespeare is writing it, and high schoolers will have to act it out in literature class five hundred years from now. Characters being taken from the storyline willy-nilly, leaving us standing there, marveling.
I believe the story is intentionally bittersweet. The bitterest of sweet, intentionally. My experience does not reliably tell me this. My experience tells me the bitter removes the sweet, like a zero-sum game where they compete with each other for percentage points. Fight the bitter, taste the sweet! Grab it while you can and eat it fast! Before the bad guys win and the Shakespearean tragedy comes to an end.
There's a book of Puritan prayers called The Valley of Vision, and its introductory prayer says:
"Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high...
that the valley is the place of vision."
I believe against my experience that a paradox exists in this world, and it is that the valley is almost always the place of vision. And the biggest reason I believe it is because I believe in the cross of Christ, and thankfully, also his resurrection.
"Why do you seek the living among the dead?" asks the angel. "He is not here! He has risen!"
Bonhoeffer said the most scandalous part of Christianity is that God comes to us in the cross. The cross is the place of our meeting with God. This place of suffering and scorn -- in this place is the whole of our good news fixed. Indeed, "to be low is to be high." The valley is the place of vision.
And from this place comes resurrection.
"If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of all those who have fallen asleep. For as in Adam all men die, so also in Christ all shall be made alive (1 Cor 15)."
If the message of the cross was a hope for this life only, we would be incredibly disappointed people. Disappointed and disappointing. We would give up on that, if we were smart.
"But in fact," says Paul, "all shall be made alive."
The paradox is that the cross is God's glory breaking in, and that through suffering we triumph. The hope of Christ's resurrection is that we also shall be made alive. We "bear the image of the man of heaven (1 Cor 15)." This means we are living in a tragedy, but a tragedy that turns out to be the sweetest victory of all. It's not that the story isn't finished yet, as some tell me. It's that the story IS finished, already, and the end is resurrection.
"What you sow does not come to life unless it dies." Paul tells us we are like grains planted in the ground. There is no harvest not preceded by dried up, dead seed. "What is sown in dishonor is raised in glory. What is sown in weakness, it is raised in power." The power of God stands waiting to resurrect us. It called Jesus from the grave, and placed all things under his feet. The power of God makes dead things rise. We can't claim it until we die.
Bitter and sweet look inversely related in this world, but they aren't at all. There's a direct correlation between them. My life doesn't usually tell me this, but Christ does. And as Bonhoeffer (again) says, "experiences of grace, alone, don't save you. Grace must be believed." The story of the cross is our story, and the resurrection makes it a story worth believing.
I'm placing my hope in the day the resurrection comes to us. The day my brother comes back to us. The day the dead parts of me rise, and I get to see Jesus, whole. Do you trust in that day? Are you willing to place your bet on this hope? That dying things resurrect?
I'm not sure there's anything else to hope in.
Jordan, you are a gifted writer. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteJordan, yes, indeed you are a gifted writer as well as a young woman who has a God-given wisdom beyond her years! Keep sharing about the only love that matters...HIS LOVE...HIS RESURRECTION! Praying for you and your family...with love!
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