Preached · August 21, 2022
Series · A More Beautiful Gospel
We have been spending the past few weeks talking about beliefs, theology, doctrine — all of that really, really fun stuff. And actually, I think it has been a really great series. We've gotten to hear from a variety of preachers and teachers on these really, really interesting, fascinating subjects.
So just by way of summary: I kicked us off on our series. We talked about the gospel in chairs and the two ways that you can tell the story. One way: God is judge, who has to figure out a way to condemn sin. Or we could tell the story of the way of God as healer, as physician, as a good doctor bringing healing to the world. You can't punish sin, but you can heal it.
Pastor Tonetta talked about divine revelation and how we know anything about God. Heidi Mills explored the Trinity, this beautiful reality of one God in three persons inviting us into their community. Pastor Richard talked about the character of God — Scripture reveals God's character, that God is love, and all the implications of that, which we are still mining and figuring out after 2,000 years. And Erin Byrne, our Table Kids director, preached on creation and new creation and how Scripture reveals that God is pulling us into the future. Last week, we had a guest preacher, Mira Sawlani-Joyner, who gave this incredible sermon. I encourage you to go back and listen to any of these, but last week Mira gave this really personal story about incarnation and the implications of what it means for our bodies to be called good and not inherently evil.
And this week and next week, I get to preach on death and resurrection and heaven and hell and universalism. It should be a breeze, all right?
What Do Beliefs Do?
So, before that, I need to do a whole bunch of metaphorical throat clearing — my voice is fine — but I want to remind us of some things when we talk about beliefs and doctrine and theology.
What does believing something do? The Apostle Paul put it like this in his first letter to his student Timothy. He says this in 1 Timothy 1, verses 3 to 5:
I asked you, Timothy, to stay behind in the city of Ephesus so that you could instruct certain individuals not to spread wrong teaching. They shouldn't pay attention to myths and endless genealogies — and the memes that their grandparents pass on Facebook. Their teaching only causes useless guessing games instead of faithfulness to God's way of doing things. The goal of instruction is love.
From the very beginning, we get this idea that what we teach matters. This is the part that's bolded in my notes: the goal of instruction is love. The whole point of any of this — my preaching, anybody's preaching, talking about doctrine, theology, belief — the whole point is: is it creating more loving people?
At their worst, beliefs can become dogma — a multiple-choice test for deciding who can and can't belong. You draw your circle, you ask your questions, and you decide who's in the circle, who's out of the circle, who belongs and who doesn't. That's beliefs at their worst.
At their best, they're formational. They help us grow into the kinds of people that are known for love and joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. If our beliefs are not leading us toward becoming those kinds of people — people who are going to be described in that way — then they're bad beliefs. They're destructive beliefs. And the question is less about "Are you in or are you out?" but rather "What kind of person are you growing to become?"
When a Community Must Set Boundaries
Now, that said, these conversations — it's so friggin' hard. Because there are times in a community where you have to say, "No, not here, you won't." If the Table, our congregation, wants to create a community that's safe and vibrant and challenging and healthy and growing, and if we desire to have that community be a safe place for people who have been historically kicked out of church spaces, that means that there are times when the leaders and the congregation need to say, "Yeah, that talk, that behavior is not going to be okay here."
Our beliefs make a difference with this stuff. Someone once asked me if it was okay for them to be part of our community if they didn't believe in the physical, historical resurrection of Jesus. And I know there are others who are present with us who aren't sure about the existence of God at all. And my answer is, of course, yes. Jesus' followers must begin with the assumption that nothing can separate us from the love of God. Pretty sure there's a Bible verse about that somewhere. And since that's true, I have no right to exclude someone from a faith community because their answer on the multiple-choice exam is different than mine. Nothing can separate us from the love of God — either height or depth, angels or demons, things above the earth, things below the earth... except bad grades on your theology degree. No, that's not it.
However, if someone's beliefs are about who to exclude and who to kick out and who to hurt, then we have to have a different conversation. "I don't believe in the physical resurrection of Jesus," someone might say, "because I believe all bodies are inherently evil. Therefore, we should avoid using medicine or vaccines or therapy." Well, then, yeah, we need to talk, because that belief is going to hurt people. And no, it won't separate you from the love of God, but it may need to separate you from the people you could hurt. It's okay for a community, a church, to set a boundary that says, "Your belief will cause harm, and we can't let you do that here."
Our church, the Table, has a non-discrimination statement. If our elders, pastors, or employees discriminate against someone because of their race, sexual orientation, gender expression, age, disability, marital status, or citizenship, then they can be disciplined or fired.
Now, some of these harm-causing beliefs are obvious. Some are not. Today, and other weeks before, we've sung songs written by churches or songwriters who would deny the rights of anybody I just listed in that discrimination statement. Are we hurting people by singing those songs? Some say, absolutely, yes, get them out of here. Others say, no, we're not going to let queerphobic songwriters ruin our time of worship. All that to say, this is tricky stuff. And sometimes it makes me want to throw up my hands in the air and give up on this organized religion stuff. But I'm also pretty convinced that when groups of like-minded people come together, we can make the world a radically more just and beautiful place. So I'm not giving up yet.
Venturing into Unknowable Things
All that to say, with these next two weeks of topics — death, resurrection, heaven, hell — we're venturing deep into, one, beliefs that have been used to harm and control people. "If you don't believe this, you will burn forever. If you don't believe the right way, you will suffer for all eternity." A fear-based sort of belief system. And two, we're venturing deep into the weeds of fundamentally unknowable things. If anyone gets real dogmatic, real certain, about what happens to you when you die, what heaven is like, and the end of the world — that's a pretty clear sign to back away slowly.
The best I, or any preacher, can do is teach you what has been believed by most Christians in most places at most times. I'm not really here to convince; I'm here to proclaim. And that's not to say I don't believe there are good philosophical and logical reasons for all the things I'm going to say tonight and next week. I do. There are. But preaching has historically been about the act of proclamation — proclaiming a message or a tradition handed down through the ages. And the nice thing about proclaiming what's been believed by most Christians in most places at most times is that it's actually a relatively small list of things. Ironically, one of the things that most Christians have believed in most places at most times is: we don't agree on a lot. And we don't have to.
Romans 14: On Disputable Matters
There's this fabulous passage — I promise we're going to get to heaven and hell, but like I said, metaphorical throat clearing — there's this fabulous passage in Romans 14 about what to do about, no joke, vegetarians. Seriously. Now, it wasn't just about vegetarians; it was about really any sort of opinion that was based on conscience. So Paul writes this in Romans 14. He gives the example:
One person believes in eating anything, while another person eats only vegetables. Those who do eat meat must not look down on those who don't. And the ones who don't eat meat must not judge the ones who do, because God has accepted them. Who are you to judge God's servants? One person considers some days to be more sacred than others, while another person considers all days to be the same. Each person must have their own convictions. Why do you judge your sibling? Why do you look down on them? Each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.
And lots of people, religious people, love to quote that verse — "Each one of us is going to give an account of ourselves to God" — and they use it to condemn. But they skip the next verse:
So stop judging each other. Instead, this is what you should decide: never put a stumbling block or an obstacle in the way of your sibling.
In other words, if our beliefs cause someone to stumble, to trip up in their faith, their life, we need to think through whether holding that belief is worth it, or whether it's worth forcing others to believe it. Romans 14, further down, even says, "Cultivate your own relationship with God, and don't impose it on others."
Now, I'm not saying you can't talk about your beliefs with others. I'm not saying that you shouldn't invite people into a good and beautiful community of practice and a way of life. If you've discovered a way of belief that leads you to become a more loving and justice-oriented person, then of course you should share it. Of course you should invite others into it. But, for the love of God, don't impose it on other people. You see the difference?
Preaching to Myself
The reason I bring this up, honestly, is I'm preaching to myself here. I grew up in an environment of fundamentalism. Fundamentalism isn't only a matter of what you believe, but also how you believe it. It's good to be strong in your convictions, but when you combine that conviction with a lack of generosity and a good dose of authoritarianism, then you end up with corrosive, destructive beliefs. And although my beliefs have changed dramatically since I was a teenager, I can still sense this unsanctified part of myself that's drawn to a new kind of fundamentalism.
The Main Point
So, that was a lot of throat clearing. We're going to get into today's topic. Fortunately, I've got two weeks in a row, so I can take my time. Here's the main point about life, death, and resurrection I want to get across today. There are no slides, so if you want to take notes, feel free — as someone once said about one of my sermons, "It was so good, I almost took notes." But hopefully that is as good as we get today.
The main idea is this: what happened to Jesus will happen to us; therefore, get to work. What happened to Jesus will happen to us; therefore, get to work.
1 Corinthians 15 and the Church at Corinth
The main text for today is 1 Corinthians 15, so if you have a physical Bible, a Bible on your phone, your tablet, you can go ahead and flip there, page there, tap there — 1 Corinthians chapter 15.
Paul the apostle, the church planter, is writing to a community that has begun to believe that spiritual things matter more than physical things — a type of theology that says bodies all die, and bodies are inherently bad; all that matters is spiritual stuff. And this leads to some real dicey situations in the church of Corinth. For instance, there's a story about a man — I'm going to kind of obscure my language a little bit today, since we have kids in the room — but there's a story about a man who's having a non-consensual physical relationship with his stepmother, and the church in Corinth is like, "Cool, way to go." There's another instance where the rich people in the church are letting the poor people literally starve to death, and then they begin to wonder, "I wonder why the poor people don't want to have communion with me? That's weird." It's messed up what beliefs can lead people to do.
Part of their theology is this idea that there's no such thing as resurrection of the dead. And you can kind of see their logic either way. They start with the idea, "Bodies don't matter, therefore why would God bother with resurrection?" Or, "There's no such thing as resurrection, and so we can see that bodies don't matter." Something along those lines. Regardless, it's led to real life-and-death problems in the church.
So, fortunately for us, reading 2,000 years later, Paul is laying out this real back-to-basics teaching guide in 1 Corinthians 15 for what the apostles were teaching about death and resurrection in the first couple of decades after Jesus' life.
The Gospel Summary
So, if you want to read along, this is what it says. He lays out a summary of the gospel:
Brothers and sisters, siblings, I want to call your attention to the good news that I preached to you, which you also received and in which you stand. I pass on to you, as most important, what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in line with the Scriptures, he was buried, and he rose on the third day in line with the Scriptures. He appeared to Cephas, then to the Twelve. And then he appeared to more than 500 brothers and sisters at once, most of them still alive to this day, though some have died. And then Jesus appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and then last of all, he appeared to me, as if I were born at the wrong time. […] So then, whether you heard the message from me or them, this is what we preach, and this is what you have believed.
"Received," by the way, is this kind of technical, educational word. It means a tradition that has been handed down, passed down. And "he rose on the third day in line with the Scriptures" — that's repeated for emphasis; it's important. Cephas, by the way, is another name for Simon Peter. Simon Peter has lots of names in the Bible.
So, to summarize, this is Paul's outline of the gospel. It's a story: Christ died for our sins in line with the Scriptures; he was buried; he rose on the third day in line with the Scriptures; he appeared. So, it's not a series of propositional statements. It's a story. It's a narrative. And it's unavoidably connected to the story of Israel, God's people, the Israelites, that we read about in the Old Testament, the Hebrew Scriptures. That's why Paul repeats "in line with the Scriptures." It's connected to this grand, arching narrative.
Paul's Argument Against "No Resurrection"
So then Paul gets into his theological problem with the church of Corinth. In verse 12, he writes:
So, if the message that is preached says that Christ has been raised from the dead, then how can some of you say there is no resurrection of the dead? If there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ can't have been raised either.
So Paul is making an argument. You say that, in general, there's no such thing as resurrection of the dead. If that's true, that means that this fundamental core aspect of what I taught you, what was handed down to me, also can't be true. If there's no general resurrection, if it's not even a possibility physically, then how could we say it's true of Jesus?
And the stakes for Paul are really high. In verse 14, he says:
If Christ hasn't been raised, then our preaching is useless, and your faith is useless. We are found to be false witnesses about God, because we testified against God that he raised the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Christ, when he didn't raise him — if that's the case, then the dead aren't raised. If the dead aren't raised, then Christ isn't raised either. If Christ hasn't been raised, then your faith is worthless. You're still in your sins. And what's more, those who have died in Christ, believing in Jesus, they're gone forever. If we have a hope in Christ only in this life, then we deserve to be pitied more than anyone else.
You can feel Paul almost stumbling over his words, just how frustrated he is.
Now, you may disagree with Paul. And I know — I'm very conscious of the fact that there are folks who are here who have profound, honest reasons to maintain their connection to the faith, the church, the religion of Christianity, even while not believing in the resurrection. So you may disagree with Paul. And again, I'm not here to argue or convince. I'm just trying to express what Paul was expressing, what's been passed down.
Why Would They Make Such a Claim?
From Paul's perspective, he had staked his life, his privilege, his wealth, his power, his health and physical safety on the bet that resurrection happened and will happen again. The first Christians were all Jews. And these Jews were making these outrageous claims that a stonemason named Jesus — of questionable birth, from a backwater town named Nazareth — had been executed by the empire, but was in fact God in the flesh, had put an end to the exile, and had started off God's kingdom come. God had shockingly, surprisingly, astoundingly done exactly what God said he was going to do, through Jesus.
And by making these claims, the first Christians would lose their family and their friends. They would become homeless or vagrant, and some of them would end up executed. So what could lead them to make such a claim? Even if, historically, you can't prove the resurrection of Jesus, the records are pretty darn clear that these first Christians believed in the physical resurrection of Jesus.
So when Paul catches wind that there's a church that's saying, "Ah, there's no such thing" — which was also the default belief of Greeks and Romans of the time — Paul is understandably confused. "Then what on earth are we all doing here?" If there's no resurrection, there's no point in all this hardship the first Christians are facing. Paul even says this in verse 32: "If the dead aren't raised, let's eat and drink, because tomorrow we die." In other words, go wild.
Resurrection or Bust
But Paul does believe Jesus was physically resurrected. And this has implications for the rest of creation. Paul says this in verse 20:
But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. He's the first crop — your Bibles might say first fruits — of the harvest of those who have died.
And this is crucial. Jesus' resurrection wasn't this one-off party trick that God could show off. The resurrection isn't a nice epilogue to the real story, which was the cross. No — for Paul, it's resurrection or bust. Resurrection, or it's worthless. Resurrection, because Jesus' resurrection is what we all have to look forward to.
What's True of Jesus Is True of Us
A crucial idea of Christian theology and belief has been this: what's true of Jesus is true of us. What's true of Jesus is true of us. Jesus makes this clear in his prayer before his crucifixion. In John 17, Jesus says:
I ask — praying to God the Father — I ask that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me, and I am in you, may they also be in us, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one.
It's this idea of unity with Jesus, with the divine. Paul says this even more clearly in Romans 6:
We were buried with Jesus by baptism into death, so that just as Christ was raised from the dead, so we might also walk in the newness of life. Since we've been united with him in a death like his, we will also certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. Since we died with Christ, we believe that we also live with him.
What's true of Jesus is true of us. So in the same way, we can take a look at what happened to Jesus after his death and have some preview of what will be true of us.
Jesus' Resurrection Body
If you look at the resurrection stories of Jesus, you don't see reports of a spirit or a ghost haunting the disciples, wrapping his arms around them, and teaching them how to make pottery. Sorry if you don't get that '90s movie reference. You get this instead — this is Luke 24:
Because the disciples were wondering and questioning in the midst of their happiness, Jesus said to them, "Do you have anything to eat?" And so the disciples gave Jesus a piece of baked fish, and taking it, he ate it in front of them.
Or John chapter 20:
Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." And so Jesus came and he took bread and he gave it to them, and he did the same with the fish, and they ate breakfast together.
There are more references to touching Jesus' body and grabbing his feet and embracing and holding him. So it's not a ghost that shows up. It's a body.
The Disabled God
There are references, too, to Jesus still bearing the marks of one who had been crucified. And — tangent, but an important tangent — this has implications for how we understand disability in the new heavens and new earth and resurrection bodies. Nancy Eiesland was a disabled theologian and professor who wrote The Disabled God: A Liberation Theology of Disability. And she notes the scenes of the resurrected Jesus showing his wounds to his disciples. She writes:
The resurrected Christ is a disabled God — one who understood the experience of the others in my Bible study in the rehab center. Jesus, as a living symbol of the disabled God, shares in the human condition. He experiences in his body all our vulnerability and flaws. In emptying himself of divinity, Jesus enters the arena of human limitation and helplessness. Jesus' own body is wounded and scarred, disfigured and distorted.
Of course, the Scriptures do promise a new world without pain or tears, without the curse of a corrupt creation gone awry. But perhaps we shouldn't be so fast to say that the things that we call disabilities, or neurodivergence, or all the variations of the human body are a sign of something gone wrong, or unavoidably connected to pain.
A New Kind of Body
All of that to say that Jesus was resurrected as a body — a physical body with flesh and bones and wounds and even scars — but it's a new kind of body. What Paul says is a spiritual body. In other words, it's a body fit for new creation. This is 1 Corinthians 15:42, if you still have your Bibles open. It says:
With the resurrection of the dead, a rotting body is put into the ground, but what is raised won't ever decay. It's degraded when it's lowered to the ground, but it's raised in glory. It's weak when it's put into the ground, but it's raised in power. It's a physical body when it's put into the ground, but it's raised a spiritual body.
Yes — spiritual, but still a body.
Listen, I'm telling you a secret. All of us won't die, but we will all be changed. In an instant, in the blink of an eye, at the final trumpet, the trumpet will blast, and the dead will be raised with bodies that will not decay, and we will be transformed.
Not Escaping to Heaven, but New Creation
Now, where Christian theology has kind of gone astray in the past couple of centuries is this idea that our hope is in heaven. And by heaven, I mean this merely spiritual place somewhere apart from earth. When we die, our personalities, our souls — whatever you want to call that — persist and go and live in this non-physical place called heaven for all eternity. But this is like 1% of the story, 1% of the answer, and it lops off the other 99% and hopes no one notices. It's escapism.
Yes, Christian theology has taught that we have this soul that goes on after our physical bodies die. Now, that soul will rest in the presence of God, but the story doesn't end there. We don't stay in heaven, in this ethereal, spiritual place, forever. The message of Jesus was not how to get to heaven when you die, but rather the news that heaven — the abode of God, the place where God's will is done — is coming to earth. God's kingdom, rule, domain, the place where justice can make its home, is coming here.
And the hope of Christian theology is not going to heaven when you die, but rather the relaunching of all of physical creation, of our souls being reunited with our bodies, free from death and decay. In fact, all of creation is awaiting its renewal and re-creation. Romans 8 says this:
The whole creation waits breathless with anticipation for the revelation of God's children. Creation was subjected to frustration, but creation hopes that it itself will be set free from decay and brought into glorious freedom. We know that all creation is groaning together and suffering labor pains up until now.
So, going to heaven when you die — sure, life after death. But being part of the new creation after heaven, that's life after life after death. Our hope is not merely heaven. Our hope is bodily resurrection, new creation, resurrected bodies, restored creation, no longer subject to death and decay. Which, for me, dramatically changes the mental image of what heaven is. Heaven is not standing in front of God's blazingly bright throne for an eternal Hillsong concert. It's not clouds and harps of various sizes and mansions that are smaller or larger depending on how good you were when you were alive. Christian hope is a restored heavens and earth, a renewed universe, free from death and decay and despair, and free for infinite possibilities.
Therefore Get to Work
But let's remember what I said our main idea is for today: what happened to Jesus will happen to us; therefore, get to work. What do you mean, "get to work"? If God is just going to reboot everything — like a '90s sitcom made into a gritty reboot — then why not just sit around and wait for that?
But listen to how Paul concludes our chapter of Corinthians. This is the very last paragraph in 1 Corinthians 15. Paul says:
Thanks be to God, who gives us this victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. As a result of this, my beloved siblings, you must stand firm, unshakable, excelling in the work of the Lord as always, because you know that your labor isn't going to be for nothing in the Lord.
Escapist theology — waiting for us to die so we can go to heaven — says, "Hey, let the world burn." But the theology of kingdom come says, "Your kingdom come, your will be done."
James Cone
Black liberation theologian James Cone says this. He says: if we merely put our hope in the afterlife, it's actually a lack of hope.
Such an appeal implies that absurdity has won, and that one is left merely with this unrealistic gesture toward the future. Heavenly hope becomes the grasp for another reality, because we can't figure out a way to live meaningfully amid the suffering of this world.
But, he goes on, it doesn't have to be this way:
Our view of the end must challenge the present order. The power of Christian theology is rooted in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and it is that which introduces the possibility of change within the historical experience of the oppressed. God has freed us to fight against social and political structures while not being determined by them. Liberation is not simply what oppressed people can accomplish alone; it is what God has done and will do to accomplish liberation both in and beyond history.
In the resurrection of Jesus, God has broken into history. God has relaunched the entire human project, and that then launches us into the world to be ambassadors of the new creation, which is ever so slowly making its way onto the scene.
Living as Time Travelers
A clear understanding of the end gives us a clear idea of what we are meant to do today. As Christ followers, we are temples of God's Spirit, filled to the brim with the stuff that will make up the renewed creation. We are to live as if we are time travelers, visitors from God's glorious future, putting into place the very things that make that future possible.
And this, for me, is one of the most challenging things. When both the Hebrew and the Christian Scriptures describe the restored creation, we are given these very clear images.
Isaiah chapter 2 says:
They will beat their swords into iron plows and their spears into pruning tools. Nation will not take up sword against nation. They will no longer learn how to war.
So what does that mean for us — to be non-violent, to not learn war? To work toward an end of war without using the weapons of war?
Hosea 2 says:
On that day I'm going to make a new covenant for them and for the wild animals, the birds in the sky, and the creeping creatures of the ground. I will do away with the bow and the sword and war. I will make everyone lie down safely.
Isaiah 11 says:
The wolf's going to lie with the lamb, and the leopard's going to lie down with the goat, and the calf and the lion are going to eat together, and the little child is going to lead them. The cow is going to graze with the bear, and the young are going to lie down together with all these wild animals, and a nursing child is going to play over a snake's hole, and toddlers are going to reach right over the serpent's den — and it's going to be fine. (My translation.)
So what does that mean for me, a meat eater, to know that God's future includes peace toward animals? How do I extract myself from systems of industrial farming and animal cruelty, knowing that God intends to redeem even animals from fear and suffering?
Isaiah 61, which Jesus preaches in Luke 4:
He has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim release for the captives and liberation for the prisoners.
If God's world means no poverty, no prisoners, no slaves, no refugees, how do I work toward that today?
Isaiah 65: A World to Bring Children Into
I personally think Isaiah 65 says this all most beautifully. This is God speaking, saying:
Look, I'm creating a new heaven and a new earth. Past events are not going to be remembered; they won't come to mind — the painful ones. Be glad and rejoice forever in what I'm creating. No one will ever hear the sound of weeping or crying again. No more will babies live only a few days, or the old fail to live out their days. They will build houses and live in them; they will plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They won't labor in vain, nor bear children to a world of horrors, because they're going to be people blessed by the Lord.
And so the question for us is not "How long do we have to wait to get there?" The question is, "How do we begin to reveal that sort of place today?"
A Colony of Heaven
The one thing I know, and am dedicating my life to, is creating communities of practice where we give these ideals flesh and blood. As the late pastor and writer Eugene Peterson puts it:
So why church? The short answer is: because the Holy Spirit formed it to be a colony of heaven in the country of death, an appointed gathering of named people in particular places who practice a life of resurrection in a world in which death gets the biggest headlines. The practice of resurrection is an intentional, deliberate decision to believe and participate in resurrection life — life out of death, life that trumps death, life that is the last word: Jesus' life.
So, if we're practicing resurrection, what about everybody else?
One More Verse
So, one more verse — one more verse I didn't read in 1 Corinthians 15, verse 22, which reads:
In the same way that everyone dies in Adam, so also everyone will be given life in Christ.
So, to the topics of hell and universalism, we turn next week. Would you pray with me?
This is a transcript of the sermon as preached, lightly edited for readability.
