This past Sunday, I had the privilege of sharing God's word with our church on what I believe is the most significant day in the Christian calendar. As I've been reflecting on our Easter service, I'm struck by how the reality of the resurrection continues to challenge and transform me in new ways.
In my sermon, we walked through Luke 24:1-12, focusing on those first witnesses to the empty tomb. What stands out to me days later is how Luke frames the journey from confusion to conviction. The women arrived with spices, expecting to find Jesus' body. Peter ran to the tomb and left “wondering.” And yet these same people would later live with what Peter called “great expectation” (1 Peter 1:3, NLT).
I find myself in that same journey so often. Like Peter, I alternate between moments of wonder and moments of great expectation. The Christian life isn't about having everything figured out; it's about being willing to investigate when confronted with resurrection power.
The Christian life isn't about having everything figured out; it's about being willing to investigate when confronted with resurrection power.
One of the points that has continued to resonate with me since Sunday is how often we look for life in places marked by death. Those angelic messengers asked perhaps the most profound question: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”
I said in my sermon about how we show up to relationships carrying old baggage, how we pursue recognition at work that never satisfies, how we maintain harmful patterns while hoping for different results. But I've been asking myself: where am I still looking for the living among the dead in my own life?
It's so easy to fall into patterns of searching for fulfillment, purpose, and meaning in places that can never truly provide them. We keep returning to the tomb with our spices, prepared for death, when the living Christ is calling us to something entirely different.
What strikes me most about Easter is that it's not just a historical fact to affirm—it's an invitation to transformation. When Peter transitioned from “wondering” to “great expectation,” his entire life changed. The resurrection doesn't just change what we know; it changes what we do.
I'm reminded of how the resurrection of Jesus invites us to move from confusion to conviction, from wondering to living with great expectation. This doesn't happen all at once. Even Peter – who would become a pillar of the early church – started with just a willingness to check things out for himself.
Like I mentioned on Sunday, the empty tomb forces us to make a decision. Some of us, like the women, have encountered the risen Jesus and our lives have been transformed. Others, like the disciples, might hear the message but struggle to believe it's more than nonsense. And perhaps some of us are like Peter – not fully convinced, but willing to investigate.
As we move away from Easter Sunday into the regular rhythm of life, I'm challenged to not leave resurrection power behind. I want to embody what I preached—to live with great expectation, to stop looking for life among dead things, and to allow God's resurrection power to transform my relationships, my work, and my heart.
I'm particularly convicted by the disciples' initial response to the women's testimony. How often do I dismiss God's work because it doesn't fit my expectations? How quickly do I write off the testimony of others as “nonsense” when God might be doing something new?
Like I said on Sunday, the empty tomb means God keeps His promises. It means death doesn't win. It means our lives can change today. Jesus hasn't just left the tomb empty—He's waiting to make our lives full.
…the empty tomb means God keeps His promises. It means death doesn't win. It means our lives can change today. Jesus hasn't just left the tomb empty—He's waiting to make our lives full.
I'd love to hear your reflections on Easter. How has the reality of resurrection been challenging you this week?
With great expectation,
Brandon