The Man Named Resurrection

close up photo of a condenser microphone

Every good story has an arc. Often things start off with the main character doing well. Then comes a great plunge into trouble, the underworld, then comes resurrection, redemption, and all is well again, often better than before. It is no coincidence that stories that track along these lines grip us for they are patterned after the greatest story of all. 

The year itself follows this pattern. Let us take summer. We are all simply living, enjoying our lengthened days, then comes signs of death, leaves turn old. Then death itself, darkness and cold, until that winter begins to fade and green resurrection springs. 

The point for us to see is that all of these stories and seasons point to something. Do not be lulled to sleep, becoming a person that can only see patterns, types, and narratives. Praise God for patterns, types, and narratives. But it would be a crying shame for a man to get the story and not get the point. Especially because this particular point is a point made flesh. A point that has risen from the grave, with hands still scarred.

His name is Jesus. 

We are not here to worship the idea of resurrection. We are here to worship the man named Resurrection. You will see Him one day. You will see His body. You will behold with your very eyes the one who was pierced for your transgressions. 

He is just as embodied today as He will be on the day you see him. But according to your Father’s wisdom, He has determined for you to live by faith for now. 

Do you see Him? Do you know Him now? Do you love Him? Life Himself smiles at you. A man shepherds you. A High Priest who is risen, risen indeed.