From the chair:
I took a few days off from blogging while my sister was in town for Easter. It was a joy to take off a few days this year and spend a long weekend celebrating the resurrection by being with family. One particular reading from Sunday caught my attention:
“20 But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 21 For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. 22 For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. 23 But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ. 24 Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. 25 For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. 26 The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”
-1 Corinthians 15:20-26
I’ve been thinking about this phrase, “first fruits of those who have fall asleep” a lot lately. It’s a great picture of what Jesus’ resurrection has to do with us. Sure, Jesus was the best of us, the first of us to be raised from the dead, and went fairly directly to God. Yet, we will be raised in the same way–victoriously, permanently, changed–in due season. We are different and alike in exactly the ways that allow us to follow him, not only in life, but also through death to life everlasting.
From the desk:
A quote from a book from last year but for Easter:
“though the historical arguments for Jesus’s bodily resurrection are truly strong, we must never suppose that they will do more than bring people to the questions faced by Thomas, Paul, and Peter, the questions of faith, hope, and love. We cannot use a supposedly objective historical epistemology as the ultimate ground for the truth of Easter. To do so would be like lighting a candle to see whether the sun had risen. What the candles of historical scholarship will do is to show that the room has been disturbed, that it doesn’t look like it did last night, and that would-be normal explanations for this won’t do. Maybe, we think after the historical arguments have done their work, maybe morning has come and the world has woken up. But to investigate whether this is so, we must take the risk and open the curtains to the rising sun. When we do so, we won’t rely on the candles anymore, not because we don’t believe in evidence and argument but because they will have been overtaken by the larger reality from which they borrow, to which they point, and in which they will find a new and larger home. All knowing is a gift from God, historical and scientific knowing no less than that of faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these is love.”
-N.T. Wright, Surprised by Hope, kindle loc. 1264
“The chair” is the one Annie aptly chose for the corner of our living room, and it’s where I am committed to daily hearing from God’s Word–the Word I above all else hope to speak to others. “The desk” is the one by my coffee grounds and spare charger (if I get to the library early enough); it’s where I have the privilege of reading and thinking all day, where I intend to learn for others’ sake.