Without the Resurrection

Without the Resurrection, none of it makes sense.
The Cross is just another tragedy, a miscarriage of justice. Another innocent victim of the envy and sinfulness of men. The life of Jesus that of a good man inexplicably seeking death, and death in the most horrible way imaginable.
There’s no church. There may be a group of people still trying to follow Jesus and trying to live out his teaching, but that’s not the same thing.
The hope of the resurrection of the dead remains a vague and possibly unfounded piece of wishful thinking. Something to comfort yourself with when a loved one dies, not something to fortify the spirit against potential martyrdom.
There’s no assurance of salvation, no sure and living hope.
No putting an end to the Law and its written code. No grace in which we stand, only a vague hope that God will choose to be merciful.
What the early church in the Apostolic age talked about most was not the cross, not even in all its atoning glory.
It was the Resurrection.
The symbol of Christianity was never meant to be a cross, but an empty tomb.
Christ is risen!

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