Christianity is an embodied religion. From the beginning when God created the physical world and called it “very good,” to the end where God will once again affirm the goodness of the physical world by establishing God’s kingdom, Christianity is faith in the God of the Physical. The resurrection of Christ stands in between these poles, affirming climactically and eternally that this physical world is God’s own, and will remain so despite what sin has made of it.
Earlier this year Union Seminary president Serene Jones reignited a long-standing debate on the nature of the resurrection. In an interview with The New York Times she claimed that, “Those who claim to know whether or not [the physical resurrection of Christ] happened are kidding themselves. But that empty tomb symbolizes that the ultimate love in our lives cannot be crucified and killed.” The resurrection, for Jones, was not a historical event but an orientation of life. It is an allegory of love that “cannot be… killed.” Jones here represents a substantial position in Christianity. A 2017 BBC poll found that only 31% of British Christians believe in the physical resurrection of Jesus. It has become common, in some Christian circles, to understand Christ’s resurrection as meaningful, but not physical.
Perhaps one reason that faith in the physical resurrection of Christ is waning in English-speaking Christian circles is that the resurrection is not properly understood. Theology has focused intensely on the atonement, meticulously parsing theories about the meaning of the death of Christ and weighing each theory’s merits, but much less attention has been paid to Christ’s resurrection. It is treated only as a test for orthodoxy or a proof of Christ’s divinity, both of which are legitimate but neither of which provides a compelling meaning of the resurrection. Even if we think we should believe along with the creedal Christian tradition, it is unclear why.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul provided the doubting Corinthian church a compelling and comprehensive vision of God’s will for this physical world. The Corinthians believed in Christ’s physical resurrection, but were doubting their own. They believed that they would enter an immaterial paradise after death—something like what we mean by “heaven.” But for Paul, a future disembodied existence was inadequate. It did not sufficiently affirm this world as God’s own, and it did not grasp the logic of Christ’s resurrection. For Paul, it was necessary to hold both God’s past and future affirmation—in Christ, and only in Christ, all of God’s promises are “yes” (2 Cor, 1:20).
The logic of 1 Corinthians 15 may be easy to miss, but it is vital as an answer to our own doubts. The Corinthians were in spiritual danger by denying the general resurrection—the physical resurrection of all Christians at the end of time—because of what that implied about Christ’s resurrection. “But if there is no resurrection of the dead,” Paul says, “then not even Christ has been raised” (15:13). But why this leap? What connection is there between Christ’s past and our future? Paul thought the connection was vital, even going as far as saying that, “if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins” (15:17). But why?
Gregory Nazianzen (d. 390) provides the key to unlocking Paul’s elliptical logic. Debating the nature of Christ’s incarnation, Gregory coined the theological principle, “What has not been assumed has not been healed.” In the same way that it was necessary to take on all of human nature, it was necessary for Christ to be raised if there is to be any future resurrection—any final affirmation of God’s “very good” world. Christ became embodied to bear all sin, and Christ was raised as the first of God’s affirmations of humanity’s newfound purity: “For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive” (15:22). Whatever happened to Christ after death is what will happen to us as well, and if Christ remained dead then so will we all. If Christ did not assume our nature then we would not be healed; if Christ was not resurrected then neither will we be. And if that is true, according to Paul, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die” (15:32).
For Serene Jones, the message of Christ’s death and resurrection is a story about unconquered love, a love that “cannot be crucified and killed.” But if Christ is not raised, then love is in fact conquered. Both those who love and those who are loved will die, and if Christ was not raised then death—not love—has the final word. It is only if Christ was raised that love can have the final word, because only then will life have the final word. Only then will God have the final word.
According to Paul, love and life have in fact conquered death. Not the sentimental love of memory or story, but true love embodied. True love made flesh, made physical, has affirmed once and for all that God’s creation remains “very good.” People in their bodies are affirmed, because it is in those bodies that they will be raised. It is in the very bodies that the martyrs suffered for the hope of resurrection that they will meet the resurrected Christ. And so, what has been assumed has in fact been healed, and he who was raised showed the path which we will all follow—“But each in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, then at his coming those who belong to Christ” (15:23).
If we are to affirm with scripture that the world that God created remains “very good,” then we must affirm with scripture that the archetype of all created things was raised physically from the dead. Nothing less will give us eyes to see the world as God’s still good creation, and nothing less will calm our anxious hearts as we live in a world overrun with death. What is not raised is neither affirmed nor comforted, but in Christ God’s declaration to the world is the truly unconquerable “yes.”
