It’s a journey. You start here and you end up there. That’s how I’m digesting 1Corinthians 15 this morning.
For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that He appeared . . .
So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.
. . . we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. . . .
“Death is swallowed up in victory.“
“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”
Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.
(1Corinthians 15:3-5a, 42-44, 51b-53, 54b-55, 58 ESV)
It’s a gospel journey. A journey that starts with preeminent truth and works it’s way to a practical takeaway.
The journey starts with an empty tomb; gains momentum with a risen Savior; picks up along the way immortal people; crescendos with a trumpet sound and victory song; and then touches down on what is seeming to me to be a pretty profound implication. Profound in that it is not all that profound. Remarkable in that it’s not really that remarkable. Magnificent in that it’s pretty mundane.
Sunday’s a coming! Easter celebrations are just a couple of days away. The wonder of a finished work, the glory of an empty tomb, the reminder of a blessed hope. We’ll poke our heads into the cave with Peter and John and see the empty grave clothes; we’ll watch Jesus, nail scars and all, making the rounds, connecting with Peter, and then the twelve, and then the more than five hundred; we’ll consider afresh that Jesus’s resurrection isn’t the finale, it is the firstfruits, and that there will be a mind-blowing harvest of resurrected people ascended into immortality just like Him. And then, we’ll sing our doxology (we’re singing a bit of a pumped up version of Victory in Jesus this Sunday . . . can’t wait), turn out the lights, lock the door, and go back to doing what we do. We’ll return to our same old, same old. ‘Cause Monday’s coming, as well.
Back to the routine. Re-engaging in the mundane. But doing so as people of the resurrection . . . the glorious resurrection of Christ, which has happened . . . the just as glorious resurrection of our bodies, which will happen.
Steadfast. Immovable. Abounding in the the work of the Lord and, in whatever our job is, for the Lord. Knowing it’s not in vain.
A glorious journey into the mundane.
By His grace. For His glory.