(Editor’s note: As we enter Holy Week, we’re holding space for the parts of the story that feel unresolved — the places where loss lingers and hope is hard to see. These reflections by our CSA staff invite us to pay attention to what God may be doing in the middle of it, not just after it.)
“Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.” (Prov. 24:16)
Nearly every time I go to church, I experience a resurrection of some kind. Sadly, though, they are momentary resurrections — powerful, but forgotten by day six of the following week. It may be my Catholic upbringing or my extraordinarily high desire to be a person of complete integrity — I don’t know — but I spend quite a few of my days feeling like a miserable failure and wondering if I will even make it to heaven at all.
Others may not see this in me, and it may seem ludicrous. But have you ever questioned your redemption? Have you ever wondered if, at the end of the day, God will really be excited to usher you into the Kingdom? I sometimes imagine my entrance being more of a sigh and a “Oh sure, come on in. You tried, Laurie” from God.
So every Sunday, as I crawl my way into church, God meets me. He tells me that we will keep going and that we will be okay. He tells me I am not alone and that he is with me, always.
And for a moment, I believe him. For a moment, the weight lifts. The noise quiets and the questions soften. It is not a dramatic transformation. It is something smaller, almost fragile, but it is real.
The word resurrection carries within it a surprisingly physical, almost stubborn kind of hope. It comes from the Latin resurgere — re meaning “again” and surgere meaning “to rise” or “to get up” — so at its root, resurrection simply means “to rise again.” The Greek New Testament word, anastasis, combines ana (“up”) and stasis (“standing”), or literally, “a standing up again.”
This isn’t abstract or sentimental language; it is grounded, embodied, almost defiant. Resurrection is not just about new life in a vague spiritual sense; it is about something that has fallen, or been brought low, or even died, somehow finding the strength — or being given the power — to stand again.
Maybe that is why my small, weekly resurrections matter more than I give them credit for. They are not the final victory and they do not fix everything. But they are persistent signs that something in me is still being lifted, still being called upward, and still refusing to stay down.
This past weekend, our pastor said something remarkable. She said that what God is always trying to do is help us “resist the gravitational weight of this world that continues to pull us down and defeat us.” God’s work today, and always, is to help us rise again and again and again. To stand up when we feel clobbered and walloped — whether by our own sin or by the realities of this world.
But praise God that the pivotal moment of what we know about God in Jesus is resurrection.
“Rise up.”
“Get up.”
“Stand up.”
Over and over again.
Until, bloodied and bruised, we reach those gates of heaven and he says,
“That was the final. You did it. Welcome, my beloved. You have fought the good fight. Come, receive your reward.”
Or, as Jesus tells it:
“Well done, good and faithful servant… Come and share your master’s happiness.” (Matt. 25:23)
Laurie Nichols is a seasoned communications and marketing professional with over 25 years of experience in faith-based, nonprofit, and educational sectors. She serves as Director of Communications for Christians for Social Action. Laurie blogs at Finding Faith Again on Substack. You can find her on LinkedIn here.
