Archive for Easter
John chapter 20 begins with this: “Early on Sunday morning while it was still dark…”
That simple phrase tells the reader that something transitional has happened. The plot has moved from the last day of the week to the first, and darkness is preparing to give way to dawn.
Early on Sunday morning while it was still dark Mary went to the tomb and saw the stone had been rolled away. There she made an assumption: someone had taken the body of the Lord. In a culture where grave robbing had become common enough to earn capital punishment, Mary assumed something was wrong. So she ran to tell the disciples. Peter and John ran to the tomb and looked in and went home. For the first time in three years Peter was speechless.
Even though the men left Mary lingered. She stayed and decided to take a look for herself. Surely her mind was preoccupied with her last memories—stuck in the yesterday of death and loss. She was hitched to history, so to speak. John reports that she was crying. Literally “wailing” as she looked into the tomb. She wept alone. Jewish culture valued community mourning so much that it was not uncommon for families to hire professional mourners to come along side them in times of grief. But in this instance, Mary wept by herself.
When your eyes are clouded with tears, your vision is distorted.
As the story unfolds we read that there were two angels in the tomb. The text is unclear as to whether or not Mary recognized them as such. It would appear that Mary stood in the midst of the supernatural and miraculous and didn’t even know it. As she turned to leave she saw Jesus. Again, she didn’t recognize him. She thought he was the gardener who had come to tend to the work of the day. Her tears kept her from seeing the reality of the present and the possibility of the future.
In that moment, Jesus asked her two questions. “Why are you crying?” and “Who are you looking for?” She offered no answer but we know that Mary was crying over something that wasn’t real and that she was looking for someone that wasn’t there. It occurred to me that most of our tears are Friday tears: tears of pain, loss, guilt, regret, failure, and sin. Tears tied to last week, last month, or last year. Many times we are like Mary, guilty of looking for something that doesn’t exist to bring comfort to our broken hearts. But things are different. It’s daybreak of the first day of the week.
It all turned when Jesus called her name. “Mary!” Upon hearing her name, Mary utters a new cry, “Teacher!” and clung to him. Jesus didn’t scold her for clinging to him. He simply wanted her to understand that with the resurrection a chapter had closed and a new one had begun. Things were different. Jesus wasn’t going back to his past three years of ministry. He was going forward. He would ascend, the Spirit would descend, and the Church would be birthed.
Because of that Mary was given a special job. She was called upon to carry the first gospel message to the disciples. Friday is over. Sunday has come. It’s a new day and there’s a new life to live.
Peace is a scarce commodity in modern culture. More and more we tend to live in crisis mode, struggling to keep our heads above water as wave after wave of adversity pounds against our lives and homes. Living in survival mode will push hopes for peace to the margins of our prayers. Frankly, most of us don’t even aspire to high ideals such as “peace that passes all understanding.” For many, the only peace we can imagine is the peace that comes from the absence of adversity.
But the peace that Christ speaks of is a peace that comes to our lives even in the midst of adversity. Which brings me to the fourth post resurrection statement of Christ, found in Luke 24:35-40.
“Then the two from Emmaus told their story of how Jesus had appeared to them as they were walking along the road, and how they had recognized him as he was breaking the bread. And just as they were telling about it, Jesus himself was suddenly standing there among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. But the whole group was startled and frightened, thinking they were seeing a ghost! “Why are you frightened?” he asked. “Why are your hearts filled with doubt? Look at my hands. Look at my feet. You can see that it’s really me. Touch me and make sure that I am not a ghost, because ghosts don’t have bodies, as you see that I do.” As he spoke, he showed them his hands and his feet” (NLT).
In the Luke account, Jesus offered his scars as a means of comfort and peace. So how does that work? Think about scars for a moment. What do we know about scars?
First, scars are a sign of a previous wound; evidences of an injury that has occurred in the past. Some of our scars are visible. I have a scar, for example, on the palm of my hand that I received from a bike accident as a kid. I have a couple of other scars like that, but over all have been pretty fortunate. While some of our scars are visible, many are not. Some of the worst scars we carry are scars that cover our hearts. Some times the invisible scars represent more pain than the outer scars etched upon our bodies.
Second, scars are evidence that our wounds can be and have been healed. After all, if its not a scar, its still a wound that remains unhealed. When you see a scar there should at least be a flicker of hope for healing has occurred.
Third, some scars exist because we did exactly what we were supposed to do. I can remember as a child staring wild eyed at a young man just home from Viet Nam. He attended the church where I grew up and had been facially disfigured because he did what his nation called him to do. Jesus, of course is another example of one who bore deep and ugly scars through no fault of his own. He simply did what he was supposed to do. Maybe you have scars as the direct result of doing the right thing.
Fourth, scars are an important part of our maturity. Romans 5:3-5 speaks of God’s purposes in our adversity. Paul states that the trials of life work endurance in our lives which develops godly character, resulting in love. In short, adversity works endurance, and endurance develops character, which helps us to mature into persons who are more loving than before the adversity we experienced.
Finally, scars are a part of our authentication as human beings. They are what make us real. Behind every scar is a story, and those stories help our lives intersect with the lives around us. Scars have a way of reminding us that we are both human and mortal. Those aren’t necessarily bad things. We’re all human and mortal. Sometimes a scar will remind us of that and keep our feet firmly planted in humility and reality.
Now think about Jesus in that quiet room with the disciples. Jesus looked into the eyes of the disciples and saw the turmoil. He showed them his scars and invited them to touch them. In doing so, he invited them to come close, to take a step toward a deeper level of intimacy. Jesus could indentify with their lives, and he can identify with your life. Regardless of what you’ve experienced, Jesus can identify with your scars. To find peace in the midst of your struggle means that you’re going to have to take a step toward, not away from Jesus.
700 years before he was born, the prophet Isaiah said that Jesus would be called the “Prince of Peace.” He’s the ruler of peace and he makes it available to you. He gets the fact that you’ve been hurt or are still hurting, and he invites you to come closer.
Jesus’ third post resurrection statement was made during his interaction with two pilgrims on the road to Emmaus. You can find the story in Luke 24:13-35. The narrative describes two disciples who had observed all of the events in Jerusalem during the first passion week. While on the journey home, they were joined by a traveller who asked them, “What are you so concerned about?” They didn’t recognize their new traveling companion and began to describe all of the events that had occurred in Jerusalem that weekend. A careful reading of the story will reveal the ambiguity they felt. You could sum up the conversation like this:
Who was Jesus?
Well, he was a prophet.
Why did he come?
We hoped he would be the one to redeem Israel from Roman rule.
What did he accomplish?
We don’t really know. We heard his body was gone, and we heard he had risen.
How did Jesus help Cleopas and his wife transition from ambiguity to faith? How does Jesus help us move from ambiguity and uncertainty to faith?
Jesus first began with what faith they already possessed. Luke 24:25-27 reads as follows, “You foolish people! You find it so hard to believe all that the prophets wrote in the Scriptures. Wasn’t it clearly predicted that the Messiah would have to suffer all these things before entering his glory? Then Jesus took them through the writings of Moses and all the prophets, explaining from all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.”
It sounds counter-intuitive, but the road to faith actually begins with faith. Three times during the last six months of his public ministry Jesus foretold his passion. The point is that faith is a building that is constructed on what God has said in Scripture. The Scriptures serve as a foundation and we build on that foundation one story at a time. The two on the road to Emmaus weren’t challenged at the point of the circumstances of their immediate weekend. They were challenged at the point of the writings of the prophets over the course of several hundred years.
When we take the first step of faith, faith will next open the door to reveal more light. Think about driving your car at night. Your car has headlights that reveal what is before you. Your vision is not unlimited, for the headlights reveal what lies before you for only a few yards. But as your car travels the light continues to illuminate your path. Even with limited vision, you as a driver are more than willing to drive 60 or even 70 MPH.
As the travel companions neared Emmaus, Jesus was invited to dine and stay with them. His words had taken root in their hearts and their faith was emerging. It was during dinner that the couple recognized Jesus through the breaking of bread. Then He was gone.
Rather than bask in the afterglow of the experience, the couple set out for the return trip to Jerusalem to share their discovery with the disciples. Jesus’ self disclosure made their faith personal. At the beginning of the story, the two pilgrims were wrestling with what others had said. But now their faith was personal because they had seen Christ for themselves. No longer did they need to live on borrowed faith. They learned that they could have their own faith and be free from ambiguity. So can we if we begin with the light we already possess.
It’s hard to get a clear read on the disciple’s reaction to the crucifixion. Three times during the last six months of his ministry, Jesus plainly said that he would be delivered up by wicked men who would crucify him, but that on the third day he would rise again. He didn’t make this prediction is veiled terms. He said it plain and simple.
The image that the gospel record seems to convey, however, is that the disciples and those closest to Christ were either hiding in fear or waiting for the Sabbath to pass so they could resume their ordinary existences. John chapter 20 is no exception. The chapter begins with the exciting account of the resurrection, then sharpens the focus on Mary Magdalene who had gone to the garden to finish the burial preparations for the body of Jesus.
Mary is an important character whose story is interwoven through the story of Christ. Some scholars believe that she is the woman famously “caught in adultery” in John 7:53-8:11 (look it up!). Luke reports that Jesus had at one time cast seven demons from her. She had a sketchy past, and her life of loyal devotion is evidence that she had experienced an uncommon transformation. She certainly knew Christ and was as familiar with him as anyone could have been.
The reader is surprised by her surprise that the stone has been rolled away and that the body is missing. She is confronted by a man she assumes is a gardener and inquires where the body of Jesus had been taken. It wasn’t until Jesus spoke her name that she recognized the risen Lord. Sometimes the tears in our eyes can distort the images of reality right in front of us.
With one word Mary experienced a complete reversal. Who are you looking for? The good news of Easter is that Jesus remains at the tomb, challenging us to look inside and discover the power of a new beginning.
Each of us has experienced the pain that enters our hearts when someone we love passes from this life. We are too familiar with the experience of mourning: black clothes and black cars; hushed voices speaking in solemn tones; flowers whose brilliant colors are drained as we view them through and endless flow of tears. It’s hard for us to let go, and hard to say good bye. Comforters come and go, yet the grief remains fresh with strength. Finally, the inevitable silence comes. There are no more tears. Just the deafening sound of silence.
Even those of us who have found our hope in Jesus Christ still mourn, feeling the pain and anguish of loss and separation. The school bus drives down the street, yet there is no stop in front of the house. Rush hour traffic dwindles into twilight, yet no car arrives in the driveway. Busy feet rush through the back door, yet there is no kiss of welcome. And worst of all, there is an empty place at the table. Death draws clear lines of separation for people of faith and unbelievers alike.
John chapter 11 tells the story of a man named Lazarus who became very sick. His sisters sent word to Jesus, begging him to come to Lazarus’ aid. Yet the Lord delayed his arrival. Why did Jesus do that? Even the Jews who were in attendance at the funeral acknowledged that the man who could restore sight to blind eyes could have prevented Lazarus’ death (John 11:37). Yet the Lord delayed his arrival. Jesus love for Lazarus had been an open love. When Mary and Martha requested that Jesus come, the messenger reported, “Lord, the one you love is sick” (John 11:3). The gospel writer also tells us, “Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus” (John 11:5). At the tomb of Lazarus, as Jesus joined the family and wept with them the Jews exclaimed, “Behold how he loved him” (John 11:36). Jesus’ delay was not a deficiency of love.
Martha, Lazarus sister, struggled like we struggle with separation. She boldly approached the Lord and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). Lovingly, the Lord looked into her moist eyes and said, “Your brother will rise again” (John 11:23). Martha, engulfed in the present separation of the moment was not immediately comforted. Brushing aside her tears she said, “I know–someday, a not so near and very far away someday–he will rise” (John 11:24). Jesus caught her eye again and proclaimed, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-26). Martha, filled with faith, desperately wanting to find security in Jesus simply confessed, “I believe (John 11:27).
With great reverence Jesus approached the tomb. He sighed deeply and commanded the stone to be removed. The stone that covered the tomb was a tangible reminder of separation. The stone that covered the tomb was the ongoing memorial of the separation that death had brought. It was designed to keep Lazarus from all of the family members and friends who loved him. “Take away the stone!” At the command of Jesus, the stone of separation was removed. Jesus looked up into the heavens and prayed. With a deep cry that pierced through the sorrow of separation, Jesus wailed, “Lazarus, come forth!” (John 11:43). At the powerful and loving word of Jesus the night gave way to dawning and the desperation of separation gave way to hope and togetherness.
In some rural areas of the midwest, many of the country people have a simple tradition. While the calendar marks Memorial Day, to these it is called Decoration Day. It’s a time when people go to modest cemeteries and place flowers on the stones of separation. Those marble monuments, tombstones we call them, stand on bright green grass fresh from winter’s sleep. To the right there is a stone which marks the separation of husband and wife. To the left, a stone that marks the separation of a parent and child. Across the well measured row stands another that marks the separation of friends or neighbors who took time to share both the joys and struggles of life. Those markers are bittersweet reminders. They are markers of separation indeed, but they are also reminders that Jesus has promised us that the separation that death brings is not permanent.
This past week we celebrated Easter and the resurrection of the Lord. On the first day of the week, the Bible tells us that the women made their way to the garden tomb to finalize the burial preparation for Jesus. When they arrived, the stone of separation had been rolled away. An angel of the Lord sat victoriously atop the rock. Because of Jesus resurrection, we never need to fear the stones of separation ever again. While they exist, they are not permanent. They are markers of hope that remind us of the promise that what Jesus experienced in resurrection is shared with us. There is life on the other side of death, all because of resurrection. And this is our hope!
Yesterday I posted some thoughts on how I handled 1 Corinthians 15:50-58 and how I viewed this concluding section as Paul’s song of hope which was the result of the implications of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. In short, Paul didn’t just want his readers to know something…he wanted them to feel somthing as well!
Today I want to finish up this thread with a glance at the final two verses. Not only does everyone sing now, everyone sings now with gratitude. In verse 57, Paul writes, “But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:57, NLT) This hope that we celebrate comes as a gift to us. We didn’t earn it, and we certainly didn’t deserve it. It’s 100% grace. So we sing our songs of hope, but with a tinge of humble gratitude recognizing that all we have in Christ presently and in the future is all of God’s grace.
Everyone sings now with humble gratitude. But there’s one more thought that Paul leaves us with in verse 58. “So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.” (1 Corinthians 15:58, NLT)
In other words, our song of joyful hope is sung with the conviction that our lives are not vain or empty. We are not wasting our breath or our time. Our lives lived in the Lord are not wasted or useless. It all matters and everything counts. Today we sing of a victory to come. Someday we’ll sing of a victory complete. In the moments in between we live and sing with conviction because our final hope belongs to us now.
Do you ever burst out in spontaneous singing? I’m not talking about the obligatory chorus that comes at holiday celebrations or birthday parties. I’m talking about being so filled with joyful hope that you are overpowered by song and it spews out. For the last three weeks I’ve been sharing some of the insights I’ve learned from Paul’s discourse on the implications of the resurrection of Jesus from 1 Corinthians 15. I’ve learned that the resurrection provides hope in three dimensions: it is our hope for transformation, living, and even dying. In the first 49 verses, Paul has provided lengthy explanations concerning these truths, but beginning in verse 50 he moves from “theology” to “doxology!” I don’t want to take away from the depth of what Paul says at the conclusion of the chapter. However it feels like the lyrical content of one caught up in joyful worship! Check it out…
What I am saying, dear brothers and sisters, is that our physical bodies cannot inherit the Kingdom of God. These dying bodies cannot inherit what will last forever. But let me reveal to you a wonderful secret. We will not all die, but we will all be transformed! It will happen in a moment, in the blink of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, those who have died will be raised to live forever. And we who are living will also be transformed. For our dying bodies must be transformed into bodies that will never die; our mortal bodies must be transformed into immortal bodies. Then, when our dying bodies have been transformed into bodies that will never die,j this Scripture will be fulfilled: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” For sin is the sting that results in death, and the law gives sin its power. 57But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ. So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless. (1 Corinthians 15:50-58, NLT)
Look at the characteristics of the Hope that Sings:
1. Everyone sings (15:50-53). It’s an inclusive celebration. Whether we are dead or alive at the time Christ’s return does not matter, for everyone will experience this transformation and receive a glorified body suited and fitted for eternity. Jesus has been raised, and his resurrection guarantees our resurrection. We will experience and enjoy what Jesus experienced and enjoys!
2. Everyone sings now (15:54-56). It’s a present tense celebration. Why? Because death is defeated now, not later. Paul rhetorically asked, “Where is death?” The answer? Death is no where. In our life experience we usually don’t sing songs of celebration until the final seconds tick off the clock or the final gun sounds. The Christian faith is the faith that sings before the victory is realized. In faith, it is as appropriate to sing the songs of victory in the first quarter as in the final quarter!
Tomorrow I’ll add the final two aspects of Hope that Sings! My prayer for you today is that God fills your heart with such joy and hope that you’ll spontaneously lift your voice in praise to God!
So what are the implications of this resurrection body that we are to receive? How does this truth offer hope that sustains us through the most precarious time we will ever face?
First, Paul’s teaching on the resurrection body assures us that God’s purposes are not undone by death. As the seed is buried in the ground to eventually spring forth from the soil with new life, we too will experience something on the other side of death that is fabulous and beyond compare. The thing we fear most, death, God calls precious. Death doesn’t jeopordize life in any way.
Second, in Paul’s teaching on the resurrection we see what we have ultimately been created for. In fact, the answers to the future are provided for us in the beginning. If you want to know what God’s future purpose holds just turn to the front of your Bible and re-read Genesis chapters 1-2. In the creation story we see the man and the woman placed in a place of perfection, dwelling in complete innocence enjoying the unfettered presence of God. Sin messed all of that up, but in eternity we will enjoy what Adam and Eve lost in Genesis chapter 3.
Finally, our best clues to what the resurrection body looks like are found in the New Testament account of Jesus resurrected body between his resurrection and appearance. If you read the end of the gospels, you’ll see that Jesus ate food, communicated with others, and was identifiable. Jesus, prior to his ascension also exhibited that he was not bound by or limited to the laws of nature, such as gravity. While we may not understand all of that, we can take what we read in the gospels and link it to John’s affirmation, that “He has not yet shown us what we will be like when Christ appears, but we do know that we will be like him, for we will see him as he really is” (I John 3:2, NLT).
Paul’s goal is not simply to answer questions and provide timely answers. His goal is to provide hope in the face of death. Hope that doesn’t serve our faith in the face of death is no hope at all.
After patiently answering question upon question about the resurrection, Paul finally got to the heart of the issue that concerned the Corinthian congregation: But someone may ask, “How will the dead be raised? What kind of bodies will they have?” (1 Corinthians 15:35, NLT)
Much has been written regarding his response to the church, but to simplify, I see Paul’s response under three headings. The first heading is CONTINUITY. Reading on, Paul writes, “What a foolish question! When you put a seed into the ground, it doesn’t grow into a plant unless it dies first. And what you put in the ground is not the plant that will grow, but only a bare seed of wheat or whatever you are planting. Then God gives it the new body he wants it to have. A different plant grows from each kind of seed. Similarly there are different kinds of flesh—one kind for humans, another for animals, another for birds, and another for fish. There are also bodies in the heavens and bodies on the earth. The glory of the heavenly bodies is different from the glory of the earthly bodies. The sun has one kind of glory, while the moon and stars each have another kind. And even the stars differ from each other in their glory” (1 Corinthians 15:36-41, NLT).
Paul wants the reader to know that there is continuity between our earthly bodies and our resurrection bodies. Rather than seek understanding from an abstraction, Paul simply reminds his readers that the hold the answer in their hands. It’s like a seed that is planted beneath the soil. In time, the seed sprouts and shoots up through the soil in a glorious new form. The seed itself doesn’t come through the soil, but it comes in a new form that is something superior and beyond compare. While the difference between a seed and a plant is obvious, the identity is the same. After all, if you plant corn you expect to raise corn. Burial of the seed (death) is necessary for the new form to appear, such as is true with our bodies. In the resurrection we will be raised in a new and glorious form, but we will not lose our identity.
The second heading is TRANSFORMATION. Verse 42 continues, “It is the same way with the resurrection of the dead. Our earthly bodies are planted in the ground when we die, but they will be raised to live forever. Our bodies are buried in brokenness, but they will be raised in glory. They are buried in weakness, but they will be raised in strength. They are buried as natural human bodies, but they will be raised as spiritual bodies. For just as there are natural bodies, there are also spiritual bodies” (1 Corinthians 15:42-44, NLT).
While we do not lose our identity in eternity, we must still be appropriately fitted for our eternal living environment. Transformation is necessary in order for believers to enter their heavenly existence. We will have a body in eternity, but not the same body. Resurrection is not the same as resuscitation of a corpse! To help the reader understand the transformation, Paul uses comparison language.
Our present bodies are subject to decay, while our resurrection bodies will never decay. They will be “deathless.” Our present bodies are buried in “brokenness,” literally dishonor. The word dishonor is the word used of those who had lost the rights of citizenship. Those who lost their citizenship lost their rights. Hence, “dishonor.” But though the body is buried in dishonor, it is raised in glory where there is no shame.
Our present bodies are buried in weakness, meaning they require air, food, water, and shelter for their existence. Our resurrection bodies, on the other hand, are raised in power to live independent and free of the things we relied upon while on earth.
The final broad heading I would use is the word PROTOTYPE. The final words of this section begin in verse 45, “The Scriptures tell us, ‘The first man, Adam, became a living person.’ But the last Adam—that is, Christ—is a life-giving Spirit. What comes first is the natural body, then the spiritual body comes later. Adam, the first man, was made from the dust of the earth, while Christ, the second man, came from heaven. Earthly people are like the earthly man, and heavenly people are like the heavenly man. Just as we are now like the earthly man, we will someday be like the heavenly man” (1 Corinthians 15:45-49, NLT).
Paul is simply saying that our earthly bodies come from an earthly prototype, Adam. Our heavenly bodies will be different because God will use a new prototype, Jesus!
Tomorrow I’ll finish up this section on the resurrection body by describing how this teaching from Paul provides a hope that endures the deepest challenge any of us will ever face: death.
Imagine that you walk into a car show. As a car enthusiast, you’re excited to see all of the new models that car manufacturers have developed. You walk past the new models from Ford Motor Company, then General Motors. Dodge and Chrysler have nice ideas, as well as the massive selection of imports.
You leisurely meander through the cars until a sign captures your attention. The sign reads, “The Last Car You’ll Ever Own.” The arrow points down a narrow hallway that leads to a room. When you enter the room it becomes immediately clear that this model is clearly from the future. It’s a car alright, but a car unlike anything that you’ve ever seen.
As you walk around the car you engage the attendant in conversation. As you run your hand over the fender, he tells you about the materials that compose the body. He casually explains that it’s a new material that is indestructible. “Go ahead,” he says, “try to key it.” At first you recoil at the thought of ‘keying’ a showroom model, but his confident smirk somehow agitates you into action. You produce a key from your pants pocket and dig it deep into the side of the car and rake it across the door. “Huh,” is all you’re able to say. “No damage.” “That’s right,” confirms the attendant. “Let’s try something a little more substantial.” He offers you a hammer, and nods approval. As you lightly tap the hood with the hammer, the attendant bursts into laughter at your anemic efforts. “Come on, now, really get into it!” Your face reddens as you begin hitting the car harder and harder. Before you know it you’re on the brink of losing control as you take full cuts at the hood, the trunk, and the glass. To your amazement, nothing happens. Not even a scuff mark. As you collect yourself, the attendant adds, “Not only is it indestructible, it totally repels all road dirt and weather. You’ll never even have to wash it.”
You shake your head in disbelief as he lifts the hood. “Come look at the engine. This car requires no fuel.” As if the body demonstration wasn’t enough, you now find yourself totally exasperated. “No fuel?” “Nope, none whatsoever. This car is self energizing. No petrol, no gas, no hybrid fuel, no bio fuel…nothing.”
You’re not exactly sure what to say. “And there’s more,” the attendant chirps. “It’s maintenance free. No more oil changes, air filters, tires, or any of those other annoying trips to the shop. There’s no warranty on the car because it never breaks down or wears out. See, I told you! It’s the last car you’ll ever own!”
I’ll admit, that story is a little hard to swallow. It’s beyond our ability to imagine such an invention, given the limitations of what we know through science, physics, and even our own life experience. How could such a thing be possible? That’s a valid question, and its similar to the kind of question the Corinthians must have asked Paul when they heard him describe the resurrection body in 1 Corinthians 15.
This week I’m going to delve into Paul’s description of the resurrection body from 1 Corinthians 15:35-49. My analogy of the car show may not be 100% spot on with what Paul tried to communicate about the resurrection body, but at least we’re now thinking in the right direction!