The hope of the resurrection

Yesterday we enjoyed the Easter holiday, and though brethren have celebrated the resurrection of Jesus on every Lord’s Day from the beginning of Christianity, it’s also the case that, historically, the early church recognized an annual date on the calendar to commemorate that actual day in which Jesus rose.

Even before the Lord’s death and rising, the people of God rested in the hope of a day they would leave the graves behind for good. Job spoke of it (Job 19:25-27), as does Isaiah (Isaiah 26:19). No doubt from the moment Adam and Eve buried Abel, humanity has yearned for the resurrection of the dead. The raising of Jesus is, what Paul calls, “the firstfruits of them that sleep” (1 Corinthians 15:20): He rose never to die again. That’s the hope we cling to. That’s the reason we suffer here and now.

On that note, I’m reminded of a story told in Israel, set in the days of the wicked ruler Antiochus, and recorded in 2 Maccabees. During the reign of Antiochus Epiphanes (the ruler of the Seleucids who dominated Judea a couple centuries before the birth of Jesus), a law went out that demanded Jews to abandon their faith and adopt Greek customs, including eating foods forbidden by the Law of Moses. A Jewish mother and her seven sons were arrested and commanded to eat pork, which was forbidden under the Law. They all refused. In response, one by one, the brothers were tortured and killed in front of their mother. Before dying, each brother boldly professed his faith in God, declaring that resurrection and eternal life awaited those who were faithful, while eternal punishment awaited those who yielded to sinful pressure.

Their mother encouraged each of them to remain faithful, knowing it would kill them, and with each death, she praised their courage and faith. The event is summarized in 2 Maccabees 7:25-29. Here’s a quote picking up after six of the seven sons had already been killed…

When the youth paid no attention to him at all, the king appealed to the mother, urging her to advise her boy to save his life. After he had urged her for a long time, she agreed to persuade her son. She leaned over close to him and, in derision of the cruel tyrant, said in their native language: “Son, have pity on me, who carried you in my womb for nine months, nursed you for three years, brought you up, educated and supported you to your present age. I beg you, child, to look at the heavens and the earth and see all that is in them; then you will know that God did not make them out of existing things. In the same way humankind came into existence. Do not be afraid of this executioner, but be worthy of your brothers and accept death, so that in the time of mercy I may receive you again with your brothers.”

True to his mother, and more than that, to the Lord, the brother refused to yield. He was killed, and afterward, the mother was too. Each died with the same hope in their heart: God—not man—gives life, and God—not man—can restore it again. In light of that, why would anyone ever yield to a man over God?

The account reminds me of what is recorded in the inspired book of Hebrews…