Life from death
"Destruction is the preface to renewal; a force of death also breathes life." from Eager: the surprising secret life of beavers and why they matter by Ben Goldfarb (p. 59)
This is probably the most unusual way to begin a post on Easter, with a quote from an ecology book about beavers and their effect on the physical world that I'm currently reading. This sentence stopped me in my tracks when I read it the other day. It was in a section discussing morticulture, which is the idea that some natural events (fire, beaver dams) may initially kill some of the animals and plants in a landscape, but as a result bring forth a more vibrant and more diverse ecosystem.
I have rarely come across a sentence in a non-theological book that so accurately described the natural as well as the spiritual world. We live in a fallen world. A place that was created by God and called good was then affected in every way by the introduction of sin and through sin, death. Death in this fallen world is the one universal fact of life. It is so ingrained and universal, even if it is at it's root unnatural because that is not what the original plan included, that for God to heal this world and the people He loved and created, death must play a part.
So Jesus came. Fully human, fully God, yet gave up some of His divine attributes to come to earth as a man. He came and fulfilled everything prophesied and needed: the sacrifice without blemish, the priest without sin, the epitome of human kind, guilty of nothing. Yet in this sinless perfection, Jesus voluntarily agreed to take on the sin of the world; to take on the undeserved punishment which would be the lot of sinful humans if Jesus had not stood in our place. Because of this Jesus died an excruciating death. And He did die. The Romans were excellent executioners, particularly of people they saw as threatening to their rule, and would not have made so basic a mistake as to not finish the job.
Is it a surprise that nature would reflect the spiritual order? If we see death and destruction in nature as a prelude for greater life, then why should we be surprised that God's physical death is a prelude to greater life. Jesus did die, but the story doesn't end there. Jesus came back to life. Death could not contain the power of God. When the women came on Sunday morning to prepare Jesus' body for burial, He was not there. The tomb was empty. Jesus' body was not merely stolen. (The ever efficient Romans, you know. This was not a mistake they would have allowed to be made.) His body wasn't there because Jesus wasn't dead anymore. He was (is) alive, resurrected.
Jesus still lives. This Resurrection is eternal. And not only is it eternal for Jesus, but it is eternal for those of us who accept Jesus' death as a substitution for our sins as well. We may die in this world, but the best is yet to come.
He is Risen!
He is Risen, indeed!
He is Risen!
He is Risen, indeed!
He is Risen!
He is Risen, indeed!
"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it dies alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit." John 12:24 (ESV)
This is probably the most unusual way to begin a post on Easter, with a quote from an ecology book about beavers and their effect on the physical world that I'm currently reading. This sentence stopped me in my tracks when I read it the other day. It was in a section discussing morticulture, which is the idea that some natural events (fire, beaver dams) may initially kill some of the animals and plants in a landscape, but as a result bring forth a more vibrant and more diverse ecosystem.
I have rarely come across a sentence in a non-theological book that so accurately described the natural as well as the spiritual world. We live in a fallen world. A place that was created by God and called good was then affected in every way by the introduction of sin and through sin, death. Death in this fallen world is the one universal fact of life. It is so ingrained and universal, even if it is at it's root unnatural because that is not what the original plan included, that for God to heal this world and the people He loved and created, death must play a part.
So Jesus came. Fully human, fully God, yet gave up some of His divine attributes to come to earth as a man. He came and fulfilled everything prophesied and needed: the sacrifice without blemish, the priest without sin, the epitome of human kind, guilty of nothing. Yet in this sinless perfection, Jesus voluntarily agreed to take on the sin of the world; to take on the undeserved punishment which would be the lot of sinful humans if Jesus had not stood in our place. Because of this Jesus died an excruciating death. And He did die. The Romans were excellent executioners, particularly of people they saw as threatening to their rule, and would not have made so basic a mistake as to not finish the job.
Is it a surprise that nature would reflect the spiritual order? If we see death and destruction in nature as a prelude for greater life, then why should we be surprised that God's physical death is a prelude to greater life. Jesus did die, but the story doesn't end there. Jesus came back to life. Death could not contain the power of God. When the women came on Sunday morning to prepare Jesus' body for burial, He was not there. The tomb was empty. Jesus' body was not merely stolen. (The ever efficient Romans, you know. This was not a mistake they would have allowed to be made.) His body wasn't there because Jesus wasn't dead anymore. He was (is) alive, resurrected.
Jesus still lives. This Resurrection is eternal. And not only is it eternal for Jesus, but it is eternal for those of us who accept Jesus' death as a substitution for our sins as well. We may die in this world, but the best is yet to come.
He is Risen!
He is Risen, indeed!
He is Risen!
He is Risen, indeed!
He is Risen!
He is Risen, indeed!
"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it dies alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit." John 12:24 (ESV)
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