1 Corinthians 15:1-11 (NRSV)
Now I would remind you, brothers and sisters, of the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you--unless you have come to believe in vain.
For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.
Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died.
Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles.
Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.
For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.
But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them--though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.
Whether then it was I or they, so we proclaim and so you have come to believe.
One of the songs which seemed to impact people the most during last year’s Eastertide Song Reflections was this haunting piece by Aaron Shust, written out of his own personal grief. It seemed a good match to today’s reading from the Revised Common Lectionary, so we offer you an adapted version of that day’s reflection.
At the heart of 1 Corinthians is the reality of Christ’s death and resurrection. At the very beginning of the letter, Paul reminds the Corinthians that the message of Jesus’ sacrifice was always central in his preaching:
“For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.” (1 Cor. 2:2, NRSV)
Now as the letter draws to a close, Paul shifts focus to the resurrection. One scholar calls these two bookends in chapter 2 and chapter 15 “sentinels”—calling the Corinthians to a deeper understanding of what Jesus has done for them.
And just what has Jesus done for them (and us)? He’s given them hope, hope that this world is not the end. He’s prepared a way, and his resurrection stands as a promise of our own.
We don’t know what will happen when we die. That is a mystery. We can’t begin to imagine what it will be like. All we can do is place our trust in the promise of Jesus, who said:
“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”—John 11:25 (NIV)
Yet even though our existence after we have broken free of these earthly bonds is a mystery, the reality of that existence is something that still impacts in the here and now. It provides hope whenever we find ourselves brushing up against the veil between this world and the next, whenever we are touched by physical death and are confronted with the truth that “…we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow.” (Job 8:9, ESV)
These past two years have been a painful reminder of our mortality, and not only because of a pandemic. It seems every day there is breaking news of more lives cut short by violence. Death is all around us, and we are all touched by it in some way. Sometimes it seems to much to bear. Because it is.
But then just when I think the weight of it all will crush me, I find myself before the one who experienced death, and yet lives. The man of sorrows, acquainted with grief, who willingly went to the grave for us, then returned for us. The one who, even as he himself was dying on the cross, turned to a thief who expressed faith and declared, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43, ESV).
Do you hear the certainty in his voice? Can you sense the assurance in his eyes as he tells a repentant sinner that death will not banish his soul to darkness?
We need to hear that certainty today, to sense that assurance once again. In part, because as followers of Christ, imbued with hope, we can provide a message this hurting world so desperately needs to hear.
But we also need to hear it for ourselves. There are times we need to simply cling to the promise that this is not the end. That those who trust in Jesus, though they lie down in death, will rise with him in new and everlasting life. There is sadness in the moment of goodbye, but there is an enduring promise of reunion in eternity with Christ.
Jesus conquered the grave so that we no longer need fear it. Today may the truth of that victory sink deep into our souls. We need it more than ever. May this message, which Paul proclaimed as being of “first importance”, remain central for us and bring us hope:
“For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures…” (vv. 3-4)
Here is a word from songwriter Aaron Shust about today’s song:
“I began writing this song when my Uncle was slipping from this life into the next. The Bible says that when we lose someone in the Family of God, we don't grieve like the ones who have no hope. We do grieve, but our grief is temporary. I'm so grateful for our Hope: our Confidence. This song is intended to allow the listener to grieve: to experience the pain and loss. But also to cling to the promise that Jesus is the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Him has hope for eternal life.”—Aaron Shust
Song: “Death is Not the End” by Aaron Shust
Lyrics: Click here
REFLECTION QUESTIONS
Paul says this teaching about Christ’s death and resurrection are of “first importance.” How do you hold this truth before your eyes in your own walk? What practices and disciplines are helpful to keep your eyes on the cross and the empty tomb?
Do you ever find the assurance of Christ’s promise hard to hold onto? Spend some time in prayer asking that God would remind you of the power of his love, power which raised Christ from the dead and now lives in you. Ask him to stir that hope within you whenever despair seems close.
Even though we “do not weep like those who have no hope,” tears are still part of the journey. Even Christ shed tears. How are the cries of the hopeful different from the cries of the hopeless?