Resurrection of The Son

This time last year, our family - Cam, David, Aaron, Rachel and I – celebrated a Seder meal the Saturday night before Easter. Rachel, who is Jewish and a follower of Jesus as the Christ, led us. A Seder is the commemorative Passover meal, which includes readings, storytelling, singing and other Passover traditions.

David sat up at the table as much as he could while we participated in dipping the bitter herbs and retelling the story of Passover. His health was now clearly declining.

I shuddered as we collectively read the Seder script referring to the last plague in Exodus which claims the life of the first-born son of every family in Egypt. My eyes brimmed with salty tears. The loss of the first-born son. These were the last words I wanted to read.

After we went to bed, David came into our room: “Mom and Dad, I have a temperature. I need to go to the hospital.”

We bolted out of bed and rushed to the emergency room, and the three of us spent the entire night at the hospital waiting for a room to open up. Around 6a.m., Easter Sunday, I texted our senior pastor  -  a personal friend - an update on our precious first-born son. I ended the text with an emphatic, “Preach the resurrection, pastor!”

Four weeks later, David passed away. Our need for the resurrection of the dead was now an earnestly living hope and living reality for our family. 

I genuinely feel the way the apostle Paul did in his letter to the Corinthians:

If corpses can’t be raised, then Christ wasn’t, because he was indeed dead. And if Christ weren’t raised, then all you’re doing is wandering about in the dark, as lost as ever. It’s even worse for those who died hoping in Christ and resurrection, because they’re already in their graves. If all we get out of Christ is a little inspiration for a few short years, we’re a pretty sorry lot. But the truth is that Christ has been raised up, the first in a long legacy of those who are going to leave the cemeteries.

1 Corinthians 15:16-20, The Message

The first-born Son. The one and only Son as the perfect one-time sacrifice for all, all people of all time.

Died. And was raised.

And this Easter, dear friend, I’m relying on this for my beloved son, David, for me.

And for you.

Blessings and a boisterous Hallelujah! this Resurrection Sunday.

~ Nancy