I’m currently waiting for some time to spend musing on the concept that God brought to my mind the other day: “resurrection boldness.” In Acts, the unashamed, fearless courage of the apostles (especially Peter, who had unblushingly denied his Lord not so long ago) came directly from their undoubting knowledge that their master and leader and pioneer and savior and fearless example, Jesus, had been raised from the dead. They stood toe to toe with the Messiah-rejecting Jews, with the scourge-wielding Romans, with the stone-throwing mobs. If ever there was an instance to prove the reality of ‘doctrine’ and the courage-fountain that it ought to be, the resurrection sermons and the resurrection courage and the resurrection fearlessness of the apostles is it.
And so it seems that the resurrection of Jesus is not meant for celebrating once a year with Easter bunnies and painted eggs and three-piece suits and ham dinners, but rather for the minute-by-minute battle between cowardly timidity and unflinching courage that rages in the soul of any Christian who dares to care for and confront a dying and hateful world. Let the men be men, and say with the Psalmist, “We will not fear, though the earth should change, and though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains quake at its swelling pride.” And let the women set their faces towards the Calvary Road, and say with Esther, “If I perish, I perish.”
As Jesus was raised from the dead by God the Father, so you will be also, all you who trust in Him. So go lay down your life, and don’t wait ’til Easter.
I need to think about this with much more depth and intensity.
(Psalm 46:2-3; Esther 4:16)