Alistair Begg recently said that preaching is often “less about telling them something new, but more about reminding ourselves what we mustn’t forget”.
He’s right. As a preacher I’m well aware that, to borrow a line from Oscar Wilde, “I have nothing original in me but original sin.” That’s not to say that I steal other preacher’s sermons (I don’t), but is an admission that I’m very unlikely to spot something brand new in a text that’s never been spotted before by anyone else. The truth has already been “once revealed to the saints” and my job is to bring out the meaning of what God has previously made known in the pages of Scripture.
This always feels particularly true when the major Christian festivals make their annual appearance. What can you say about Christmas, Easter or Pentecost that hasn’t been said a million times by others, not to mention a fair few times by yourself?
But maybe that’s part of the value of these times when we consciously and deliberately reflect on some of the pivotal events that stand at the centre of gravity of our gospel. We don’t have to guess what they mean, or go searching for some original perspective that’s never previously been discovered or articulated. We just need to remember and retell what’s already been told by divine revelation. Perhaps it’s this lack of prospecting for something new that gives us the permission to be wowed and awestruck once again.
The resurrection: not 'did it happen?'...
Have you ever thought about how miserable Christianity would be without the resurrection? It’s certainly something that the apostle Paul had pondered. Without it, he concluded in 1 Corinthians 15, we who claim the label “Christian” would be “more to be pitied than all” and our faith itself would be a futile, pointless exercise. Without a raised Christ, discipleship would be a tedious works-based drudgery devoid of any point or future hope.
I’ve been fascinated by the way the questions asked by enquirers and non-Christians have changed over the years I’ve been in ministry. Thirty years ago the questions tended to be of the “did it really happen?” kind, and so we responded by putting forward evidences ranging from the changed lives, courage, and preparedness of the first eyewitnesses to die for their belief in the resurrection (that was as close as we came to a “gotcha”), to pointing out the impossibility of theories about Jesus swooning or a handful of disciples overpowering trained Roman guards, before thrusting a copy of Who Moved the Stone? into the questioner’s hands.
... but 'What difference does it make?'
Nowadays, fewer people seem to need to be convinced of the veracity of the historical claim. They might ask “do you really believe it happened?’, but when I reply “yes’, the question they’re more interested in exploring is “what difference does it make?”, which is precisely the right question to be asking. Because the resurrection changes everything.
J.R.R. Tolkien described the resurrection as a eucatastrophe (a joyous, sudden, unexpected turn of events in a story that leads to a favourable outcome) and he’s partly right. The first disciples clearly were surprised, but it wasn’t ever an altogether unexpected event. Paul declares that Jesus was raised “according to the Scriptures”, and on the road to Emmaus the risen Jesus gently rebukes His puzzled travelling companions: “Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory? And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.” (Luke 24:26-27)
Unexpected or not, it’s certainly joyous. It’s joyous because although death sucks, death doesn’t win. It’s joyous because Jesus’ resurrection is the pattern for ours. It’s joyous because my “now” is transformed by my future eternal “then”. It’s joyous because the power that raised Christ from the dead is ours, and because we share in His victory. In short, it’s the ultimate gamechanger. So, no new or novel insights, but plenty to thrill us. Like a song that’s been knocking around for years, says: “because He lives, I can face tomorrow.”
‘The God who is’
In recent years I’ve discovered and learned to appreciate the Westminster Shorter Catechism. It’s a bit of a niche thing …