Easter is Over. Now What?

Finding meaning in God’s cruel death and miraculous resurrection

This is the Monday following Christendom’s largest celebration.

Yesterday, in every nation on earth, tens of millions of people gathered in great cathedrals, churches, chapels, rented strip-mall spaces, and living rooms. Some of those gatherings were in secret, but most were colorful and in plain view. On a quiet beach in Brazil, more than fifteen thousand people showed up at sunrise simply to worship.

Some came out of deep devotion. Others out of habit, memory, or quiet hope. More than a few slipped into back rows out of guilt or obligation.

For most gatherings, music was a big part of the experience. From full orchestras with hundred-voice choirs, to a guitarist on a barstool, and everything in between, victorious songs filled the air — songs about resurrection, new life, joy, love, and hope.

Countless sermons and homilies spoke of an empty tomb, the defeat of death, and the way to eternal salvation.

Yet this morning, as I sip a lovely brew in my favorite coffee bar, I find myself lingering somewhere else…

Back at the Cross.

Still asking an age-old question:

Why a crucifixion? Did it really have to happen that way?

Truth: Inherited, Assumed, or Revealed?

Regardless of how you and I view the Cross, it sits at the center of our theology. As the epicenter of the Creator’s activity among us humans, our beliefs and ideas surrounding the Cross of Christ are directly related to our concept of God, the Gospel, spiritual formation, and much more.

During my missionary years in Amsterdam, I burned out completely. It was ugly, and this is not the time or place to tell that story. But one of the many things I learned from that season was this:

Jesus didn’t die so I could work myself into an early grave for Him.

At the time, it was as though I believed the Creator of the universe needed my invaluable assistance to reach Europe’s so-called “sin city.”

Wow. How dumb was that?

That painful exposure led to an underlying question I still ask myself today:

How did I come to believe this or that about my faith?

Years ago, in grad school, I realized that many of my Christian beliefs had simply been inherited. I am forever grateful for parents and family who were sold out to Jesus, but God has no grandchildren.

So in 1982, I dove headfirst into a spiritual journey of discovery. I still haven’t come up for air.

How about you?

Have you ever asked yourself why you believe what you believe?

Have you identified the people, systems, traditions, and assumptions that shaped your spiritual life?

That may sound like a detour, but it has everything to do with the meaning of the Cross.

Because if we are trying to live off a second-hand faith that is inherited, assumed, but never truly revealed, then our spiritual journey will always carry a limp.

“The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing but the Truth”

Many of us were taught to think of the Cross mainly in terms of forgiveness:

Jesus died for our sins so we could be pardoned.

That is gloriously true.

But it is not the whole story.

Ask almost any Christian the question, “What happened on the Cross?” and you’ll likely hear something like:

“Jesus died for our sins.”

A couple of days ago, I asked my two oldest grandchildren, ages fourteen and twelve, that exact question. Sure enough, both of them immediately gave me that answer.

And to be fair, they weren’t wrong.

Jesus did indeed die for our sins. We read that in places like:

• Isaiah 53:5

• 1 Corinthians 15:3

• Galatians 1:4

• 1 John 2:2

But if forgiveness is the only thing that happened on the Cross, then we are nothing more than forgiven corpses.

And we also tend to fall into the misconception that we must keep seeking forgiveness every time we sin, as though the Cross handled some sins… but not all.

So let me ask you something:

How many of your sins were still in the future when Jesus hung on the Cross?

That’s right.

All of them.

Take a look at:

• Hebrews 10:12–18

• Colossians 2:13–14

The New Testament does not present Christ’s work as partial, provisional, or repeatedly in need of supplementation. It speaks of a sacrifice offered once for all, sins remembered no more, and all trespasses forgiven.

That should make us stop and think.

“But, But, But…”

Yup. I’ve used that empty argument too.

We often use but when truth feels just a little too good to be true.

That is why truth must often be revealed by God’s Spirit, not merely inherited, assumed, or explained into us.

And here is the clarifying truth we often miss:

Jesus did not simply die for our sins.

He also died as our sin.

“For God made the only one who did not know sin to become sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God through our union with Him.”
— 2 Corinthians 5:21

Did you catch that?

This is what some theologians call The Great Exchange.

Jesus became what we were, in order that we might share in what He is.

He did not merely excuse sin.

He confronted it.
Exhausted it.
And carried it into death.

Now we are beginning to see the fuller meaning of the Cross.

But it gets even better.

Let me ask you a question.

This isn’t a trick, so answer honestly:

Where were you when Jesus was on the Cross?

Take a minute.

Ponder it.

Maybe you’ve never thought about it before, but your entire salvation hangs on the answer to that question.

Believe it or not, I know exactly where you were when Jesus was on the Cross.

In Him.

This is another example of truth arriving by revelation, because our little brains will never fully get around this cosmos-shattering divine reality.

Not only were you and I “in” Jesus when He died on the Cross, but in some mysterious way, humanity itself was gathered up in Him.

Don’t take my word for it:

“For we know that our old self was crucified with Him in order that sin’s dominion over the body may be abolished, so that we may no longer be enslaved to sin, since a person who has died is freed from sin’s claims.”
— Romans 6:6–7

The Cross means that Jesus did not only die for our sin, and as our sin.

He also died as us.

So when Jesus died, so did you.

Don’t waste too much time trying to figure that out.

Just receive it.

That’s why we call this mystery faith.

Somehow, in the inexplicable economy of God:

What happened to Him happened to us.

On the Cross.

In Jesus.

But we didn’t stay there.

And this is where Easter becomes more than a celebration of survival after death.

Because if we were in Jesus when He died, then we were also in Him when they laid Him in the tomb.

And if we were in Him in death . . .

. . . then we were also in Him in resurrection.

“. . . just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too may walk in a new way of life. For if we have been joined with Him in the likeness of His death, we will certainly also be in the likeness of His resurrection.”
— Romans 6:4–5

This is where so many people stop too soon.

The Cross was not the end of the work.

It was the beginning of the end of an old reality.

The Cross was about:

• forgiveness

• death

• burial

• the breaking of sin’s dominion

But the Resurrection was about:

• life

• union

• healing

• new creation

• restored humanity

• and participation in the very life of God

So yes, Jesus went to the Cross to forgive.

But He also went there to bring an old humanity to its end.

And then He walked out of the tomb to unveil a new humanity in Himself.

So Why Did Jesus Go to the Cross?

To die…

for you

as you

with you

To nullify sin and strip it of its power.

To carry the old false self into death.

To bring an end to the lie of separation, shame, and endless performance.

But without the empty tomb, the Cross would have remained incomplete.

So Jesus took us into death in order to bury everything that held us captive:

• sin

• self

• shame

• fear

• and the exhausting laws of performance

And then, on the third day, He brought us up and out of the tomb as new creations.

Holy.
Loved.
Accepted.
Complete.
And righteous in Him.

Not someday.

Now.

That does not mean we have fully realized it yet.

But it does mean it is already true.

And perhaps that is one of the deepest invitations of Easter:

to stop merely admiring what happened to Jesus . . .

and begin awakening to what happened to us in Him.

Now?

Now we spend the rest of our lives learning to live from what is already true.

We are not trying to become loved.

We are learning to live loved.

We are not trying to become alive.

We are awakening to the life already shared with us in Christ.

We are not trying to earn union with God.

We are learning to live from within it.

So let this incomprehensible and inexplicable mystery begin to sink into your heart, mind, and soul.

It is already your present reality.

It will simply take a lifetime to become your realized experience.