Christians Believe in Resurrection

Sunset over the bay, Ocean Beach, NJ

Christians believe in the resurrection.

I had a friend, Dave, who died after a battle with brain cancer. A few of us were sitting around discussing the biblical story about Jesus coming back from the dead. In this story, he shows up while his friends were having a meal. They don't recognize him until he did something familiar (in this case he broke bread around the table.) Then the scriptures say that their "eyes were opened and they recognized him." (Luke 24)

As we were talking about the text, someone asked, "What would we do if Dave walked in the room right now?" I've never forgotten that question. What would I do if someone I loved came back from the dead? I'd freak out. How about you?

Christians believe in resurrection.

I have a friend who served a very small church with a declining membership. They were a farming community. But instead of corn, those fields are filled with homes. And those homes are filled with families who who commute to work and spent their Sundays at soccer games. In the last 20 years, there had tried programs hoping to resuscitate the life that they had known. There was even a suggestion that they reintroduce the spaghetti dinners to raise enough funds to pay their bills. My friend offered what I believe was a prophetic word when she said, "Christians don't believe in resuscitation; we believe in resurrection. And in order for something to resurrect, something must first die."

While I was a chaplain, I watched a group of doctors resuscitate an elderly gentleman. Resuscitation is a gruesome act. It often involves broken bones and blood. While physicians were desperate to monitor blood pressure and breathing, I was monitoring family, vulnerability and impending grief. Everyone in the room wanted to save life. I wanted death.

Resuscitation is about holding onto the life we have. We hold onto, we cling to our lives – exposing it sometimes to gruesome acts just to keep what we know. We try all kinds of things to resuscitate the life that we know. “If I do this, we can keep this.” “If I accept this, then we can stay here.” “If we adjust this or that, then this or that will stay safe.” We fight death; we fight loss. We ward off death; we resuscitate.

Living with chronic illness is about managing mini-deaths. When Pete and I can no longer do certain things or go certain places, the adjustments that we have made often seem like small acts of resuscitation. Why? I cling. I cling to the life we had. I cling to the dreams we dreamed together. I cling to the life I thought I would have. But when a dream is dying, or MS has taken Pete's ability to walk, I'm wondering what would happen if I had the courage to say, “do not resuscitate?”

Do not resuscitate that dream. Let it die. Wait for resurrection.

I know what happens if I don't let dreams die. I wake up each day proverbially breaking bones and cleaning up the blood from another round of resuscitation. Exhausted and spent – still living with the half life that I won't let go of.

Christians believe in resurrection.

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