Resurrection Power
Easter 2002
Week of Monday, April 1, 2002
This week the church around the world celebrates its conviction
that after his crucifixion, death, and burial, God raised Jesus from the
dead, and that in doing so, He
vanquished the powers of sin, death, and darkness that are so evident in
our world and in our own personal lives. “Christ is risen!” proclaims the
liturgist. “He is risen indeed!” the people respond.
Jesus had repeatedly told his followers in advance that his
journey to Jerusalem would end in persecution, death and then resurrection
on the third day, but “the disciples did not understand any of this”
(Luke 18:31–34). Perhaps, then, it is not so surprising that when the
resurrection did occur, they not only did not understand it, they did not
even believe it.
If you think about it, their initial disbelief is an entirely human,
normal response. Have you ever seen someone raised from the dead? What I
find amazing is that the early Christian writers would include such a
self-incriminating admission in documents that were supposed to advance
their cause.
Since the disciples had fled, the women who supported Jesus—Mary
Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Salome, Joanna and others—were the
first people to witness his empty tomb. At first, “they said nothing to
anyone, because they were afraid.” Fear, trembling, bewilderment, but
filled with joy, the Gospel writers tell us (Matthew 28:8, 16–17;
Mark 16:8). When the women told the eleven disciples, “they did not believe
the women, because their words seemed like nonsense” (Luke 24:11). Even
after the Lord appeared in person to them, “they still did not believe”
(Luke 24:41). Matthew puts it only slightly more positively, writing that
when Jesus appeared to the eleven, “they worshipped him; but some doubted”
(Matthew 28:16–17). Thomas, of course, was obstinate in his doubt
(John 20:24–31).
Most people today don't believe in the resurrection. As with the
initial response of the eleven disciples, such words sound like nonsense.
We must admit, there are alternate explanations. One “widely circulated”
(Matthew 28:15) proposal right after his death was that the disciples
stole the body and created the fiction of Christ's resurrection. Others
argue that the life and teachings of Jesus are what is “immortal,” in the
sense of being sublime or intensely inspirational, much like we might
describe the literature of Shakespeare or the music of Mozart. Others
suggest that the spirit of Jesus lives on in us as a powerful memory and
presence, like the spirit of Ghandi or a favorite uncle who deeply
impacted us when he was alive.1
What these alternative explanations have in common is the idea
that the resurrection accounts are more myth and metaphor than history,
more like religious poetry than narrative prose, something to be taken
figuratively but not literally. I don't find the alternate explanations
compelling, and even if I did, they would certainly not make we want to be
a Christian in the sense that they construe that term. Nor is this what
the early believers came to believe, not by a long shot. To them, Jesus
was truly and literally raised from the dead, and even if they could not
fully understand, describe or explain that, if that were not so they
freely admitted that their “gospel” was a sham and that they were liars (1 Corinthians 15:1–28).
For the early Christians, following the risen Jesus meant “to know
him and the power of His resurrection” (Philippians 3:10). When Paul
prayed for the believers at Ephesus, he prayed that they would know God's
“incomparably great power toward us who believe. That power is like the
working of his mighty strength, which he exerted in Christ when he raised
him from the dead” (Ephesians 1:19–20). But what does this mean, not only
to say that you believe in the resurrection of Jesus, but to experience
its power?
Some Christians teach that resurrection power offers us immunity
from the slings and arrows of life, or that if one is so unfortunate as to
experience them, then surely resurrection power makes available to us
deliverance, healing, health and wholeness. It is yours to name and
claim. I find it disturbing that variations of this teaching, in stronger
and milder versions, find such a receptive audience among Christians when
everything about our human experiences refutes it. When Paul is asked to
prove his apostolic credentials, he freely admits that his experience of
God's mighty power somehow, paradoxically, co-exists within the
extremities of human weakness brought about by suffering, hardship and
mental anguish—hard pressed, perplexed, persecuted, struck down,
imprisonments, floggings, beatings, stonings, shipwrecks, labors, toils,
insomnia, hunger and thirst (2 Corinthians 4:7–12, 6:4–10). Paul tells us
that he “boasts” about these many weaknesses and even “delights” in
them. Why? So that it becomes clear to all that “God's power is made
perfect in weakness” and that His grace is sufficient to keep us in the
midst of them (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).
True, in writing to the Philippians Paul says that he wants to experience
the power of Christ's resurrection, but in the last half of that
sentence he also writes that he wants to know “the fellowship of His
sufferings, being conformed to his death.”
Rather than outward manifestations of great power to ameliorate
unpleasant external circumstances, Paul writes that where we most
experience Christ's resurrection power is in our inner transformation.
Despite all the adverse tribulations he experienced, Paul insists, “We do
not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are
being renewed day by day” (2 Corinthians 4:16). For the Ephesians he
prays that they would be “strengthened with power in your inner being.”
Why? That they would “grasp the immensity of God's love”
(Ephesians 3:16–19).
Resurrection power, it would seem, is not brute force, but the
experience of an immense and life-transforming love.
I am sure that we have all known people whose inner lives, whose
very selves, have been radically transformed by the power of God's love.
Sometimes these stories are so drastic that they are hard to believe, like
that of the former Catholic priest Brennan Manning. For most of us the
inner transformation, if we sense it at all, comes in fits and starts.
Three steps forward, two steps back. But bit by bit, as we look across the
years, by God's grace we discover that despite many failures mixed with
limited successes, we are heading in the right direction.
Scripture makes it plain that, this side of heaven, the experience
of God's resurrection power and inner transformation should find a
significant commencement, something that is real, true, and discernible.
But it is only an inauguration and not a culmination, a partial beginning
rather than a total fulfillment. Paul uses two metaphors to make this
point, one from farming and one from finance. In this life we experience
but the “first fruits” of the Spirit's power and presence, not the full
harvest, and as a result, in much of life we can but only “groan
inwardly” (Romans 8:23). Or again, to date we know only a partial down
payment of God's full resurrection power, but this partial deposit
guarantees our full redemption in the future (2 Corinthians 1:22, 55,
Ephesians 1:13–14).
We make a significant start, but there is more, much more, to
come.
There is deliverance, to use that beautiful old word, and
Christians are people who through such now-and-then,
here-and-there visions as they've had, through Christ, have been
delivered just enough to know that there's more where that came from,
and whose experience of the little deliverance that has already happened
inside themselves and whose faith in the deliverance still to
happen is what sees them through the
night.2
Ultimately, says Paul, even our very physical bodies—perishable,
dishonored, weak, and no more than a rag of nature itself—will be raised
even as Jesus was raised—imperishable and in glory and power
(1 Corinthians 15:42–43).
Christ is risen, and by God's grace may we experience in the
depths of our being the power of His life-transforming love.
-
See Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat (San Francisco: Harper,
1966, 1985), pp. 76-77.
-
Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember (San Francisco: Harper,
1984), p. 112
The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself
Copyright ©2002 by Dan Clendenin. All Rights Reserved.
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