The Resurrection of the Body

A sermon for Easter Sunday
April 20, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: 1 Corinthians 15:19-26, John 20:1-18

“We believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” Like centuries of Christians before us, we confess those words week after week. We will say them in just a moment. We will say that we believe in resurrection–a physical and bodily resurrection. We don’t just believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We believe that we will be physically resurrected on the Last Day, too. That’s what we confess week after week. 

It’s not a convenient belief. It’s not an easy belief. It never has been. In the modern era, we have made much to do about the Resurrection. In some places you may hear that the resurrection is a metaphor–that somehow Christ, even after he died, was present among his disciples in some strange way, but not physically because that doesn’t make sense. In some places you may hear that our bodies are just shells, that they don’t really matter in the end. You may hear that a literal belief in the Resurrection is a holdover from older and simpler times, a belief for people without the scientific method. Between us (or so you might hear), we know that the dead don’t come alive again. We know that. We’re sophisticated, modern people. 

Well, as it turns out, that’s an old argument; it’s hardly modern. That’s exactly what they were saying in the pulpit at the church in Corinth nearly 2,000 years ago while St. Paul was off at other churches. Our reading from I Corinthians today is part of St. Paul’s letter back to the congregation to straighten them out. A mere 25 or so years after the events at Calvary, the people at Corinth are starting to believe that resurrection isn’t possible. It goes against the laws of nature, they say. They are saying maybe he didn’t really die; maybe it was a trick. Surely reasonable people, people governed by what is real in the world–surely reasonable people cannot believe that Christ literally and bodily rose after being literally and bodily dead. Surely reasonable people cannot believe that these bodies, even our bodies, will rise, too. We’re sophisticated, modern people. That’s what they’re saying. 

St. Paul calls them back. A belief in the physical and bodily resurrection is not negotiable; it is the very bedrock of our faith. If Christ did not rise from the dead, sin and death are still in control. If Christ did not rise from the dead, his teachings of peace and grace and justice and love are meaningless because evil wins. If Christ did not rise from the dead, the cross was for nothing and forgiveness is not possible and you are still in your sins. If Christ did not rise from the dead, we will not rise, either. In short, if Christ did not rise from the dead, our faith is in vain, and you all got dressed up for nothing. 

St. Paul says, “If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.” If Christ is just a good guy. If Christ is just a wisdom teacher. If Christ is just a prophet. If Christ is anything less than God in the flesh and the Resurrected One, then we are to be pitied for we have had the wool pulled over our eyes and given false hope—and the universe is spinning to decay. 

St. Paul continues: “But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died.” This is not a vision or a metaphor. This is a complete reversal of the order of things. This is something new coming into the world. This is the beginning of a new creation. For Christ has defeated sin and death, and because he has risen physically and bodily, we will rise, too–physically and bodily. Christ has been raised from the dead, and because of that, all will be made alive in him. Christ is alive, and because of that, everything has changed. Christ is alive, and because of that, God is in control, and the love of God wins in the end.

When St. Paul is writing, the Nicene Creed hadn’t been put together yet. But he is trying to express what we will confess in just a moment: “We believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” The Resurrection of Jesus Christ, physically and bodily, from the dead changes everything about our universe. Everything. It means that nothing, nothing, nothing can stop the love and goodness and grace and justice and power of God. Not in the world. Not in our lives. God wins. 

And it’s a wonder. This cosmic God, the God of blackholes, of nebulae and far flung galaxy clusters, the God beyond all time and space: this God has come among us to know us in Jesus Christ. Like St. Mary Magdalene, if we listen, we will hear him calling our names, speaking into our hearts. In dying on the cross and descending to the dead, this God of all things put it all on the line. And, my friend, if you were the only person on the face of the earth, he would have done it just for you. But he didn’t stay dead. It is a miracle; it is a marvel; sometimes it may not be easy to believe, but hear me today: He got up. And today–even right now–he is calling your name, inviting you into a deeper relationship with him, the Lord–and friend–of all. And in calling your name, he is calling you into life. Resurrected life right here and right now, and resurrected life in the world to come. His Resurrection has changed everything about the universe. He wants it to change everything about your life, too. 

Yes, “we believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” The promise is for you and for me, for all who belong to Christ, for as many as the Lord our God shall call. Lord, we believe. Alleluia.