I recently saw a tweet asking Christians if or how their lives/faith would change if the resurrection of Jesus could be definitively proven as false. Reading through the responses was interesting as it presented many different people’s perspectives and experiences and why they chose to see resurrection as literal or metaphorical (or some of both). [Note that as I talk about this tweet as well as the responses, I’ll be paraphrasing just to make writing this a bit easier – but the link to the original tweet, if you’re interested in reading it and the responses to it, is here https://twitter.com/preston_shipp/status/1507715710239313923?s=20&t=Nkzu511kZo3rhQQ6v_fCWg%5D
A lot of the responses (including my own) essentially boiled down to this: whether or not there was indeed a literal physical resurrection of Jesus would not change much, because listening to, learning from, and following someone committed to love, empathy, grace, peace, hope, etc. is beautiful and shapes the way we live our lives. Whether Jesus’ resurrection was literal or metaphorical, to many of us, is not really the point – the point is living in a way that embodies the radical compassion and love that we can see based on what we know of Jesus.
One response continues to stick in my mind, though. It was this: “As a Black man in America, I’d lose all hope. The fact that there’s a Brown skinned Jewish Man who was brutally oppressed, murdered by the State & police of His day, & yet, beat all that by physically rising again gives me a certain hope for this life & the next.” (link here to this specific response: https://twitter.com/LamontEnglish89/status/1507814597566234629?s=20&t=Nkzu511kZo3rhQQ6v_fCWg)
Ultimately, none of us can absolutely say with 100% certainty that Jesus did or did not literally physically rise from the dead. But how we understand and process this concept of resurrection – be it literal, metaphorical, or some mix of both – can say a lot about how we live out our faith.
Something I often think of is the saying “you can’t have a resurrection until you have a death.” For me, one example is that in high school, I took two years of French. Although I had the same teacher both years, it was like a completely different person. The first year, French was my favorite class and one of my best classes. The second year, while I still maintained straight A’s in French, I felt completely lost in the subject. That year – my junior year of high school – was difficult for a number of reasons; not only was the subject material in all of my classes pretty demanding, but my migraines had recently gone from episodic (happening a couple times a year) to chronic. I was experiencing intense pain and fatigue on a constant basis. My teacher knew all of this, yet had no grace for me whatsoever. There were times she wouldn’t let me ask questions even when I was absolutely clueless on what to do. She was verbally abusive to me nearly every single day. She killed my confidence and love of learning languages, and I couldn’t do anything except sit through the class and endure it.
At the time, my anxiety was heightened and everyday during French class, I felt like I was living in a state of the fight/flight/freeze/fawn responses – mostly going with freeze. I felt like it was my fault, and that if I just tried harder, I could change how my teacher treated me. I know better now – I understand that it wasn’t my fault, and she was completely in the wrong on this. Several years later, I’ve been able to start learning American Sign Language (I’m hoping to one day become an ASL Interpreter), and from time to time will brush up on French using Duolingo. While I’m mostly feeling better and safer with learning languages at this point in time, for a long time just the thought of learning a new language or practicing one I already had some knowledge of (like Latin or French) was extremely triggering. It would send me back to those days of sitting through French class, being abused pretty much every single day, and not having any choice but to sit through it and try to not make it any worse. To this day I still have occasional flashbacks and nightmares (though overall this, and other aspects of mental health, are much better for me thanks to my meds and skills I’ve learned from therapy a few years ago).
I absolutely would have rather never had this metaphorical death. I don’t think I’m made better or stronger for having endured abuse and now am finding ways to love learning languages again. So often people are praised for resilience, when in reality we should be gracious and tender, compassionately caring for ourselves and those around us especially when it comes to trauma. This metaphorical resurrection – of regaining my footing and rediscovering what made me love learning languages in the first place, before this abuse happened – has been beautiful and I am so grateful for it. But nothing erases or negates the trauma I experienced all those years ago in a high school French class. None of this makes how she treated me okay or acceptable. I didn’t need to go through it to become better or stronger or braver or more resilient.
Similarly, the concept of Jesus’ resurrection – whether literal or metaphorical – feels very nuanced and complicated for me.
I love the actions and teachings of Jesus. I love that he preached and embodied grace, peace, hope, empathy, love, compassion – I love that I have this example from my faith to follow so that I can learn different ways that I can preach and embody these things myself. I love the idea of a literal resurrection – that even death itself will always lose to love. I believe in a God who is Love, and I think that resurrection, whether metaphorical or literal or both, is a good analogy here; that God – that love – may not always seem triumphant in every moment, but will ultimately win in the end.
For me, this is what my faith and theology are rooted in. Regardless of whether Jesus’ resurrection was literal or not, it really wouldn’t change much for me. I don’t need it to be literally true in order to have a moral compass, or to love and serve others, or to do good deeds. What is most important for me is aiming to live my life in such a way that love is truly at the core of my being, my motivation for what I do, how I do it, why I do it. If Jesus’ resurrection could definitively be proven as either true or false? It would honestly make very little, if any, difference for me.
And by no means am I wanting to say that everyone has to have this same view. Like the response I quoted above – “As a Black man in America, I’d lose all hope. The fact that there’s a Brown skinned Jewish Man who was brutally oppressed, murdered by the State & police of His day, & yet, beat all that by physically rising again gives me a certain hope for this life & the next” – I think a literal resurrection does absolutely have importance and great meaning/value for many people. We all have our own different backgrounds, experiences, perspectives, and there’s nothing wrong with either belief.
So as people contemplate Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and the concept of Jesus’ resurrection this weekend, I hope they/we remember that all of this means different things to different people. If you don’t or can’t believe in a literal resurrection but still feel compelled by the person and message of Jesus? That’s okay. If a metaphorical resurrection alone isn’t enough and you need to believe in a literal resurrection? That’s okay too. And if you don’t land firmly in either camp – maybe aspects of both literal and metaphorical resurrection resonate with you, or you just aren’t sure what makes the most sense to you – that’s also okay. It isn’t wrong to have doubts or questions, and it isn’t wrong to believe in the hope that comes with something miraculous that defies death. It’s okay to be wherever you are at in your faith journey.
I think it’s worth considering this topic from different angles. I truly do love and appreciate Jesus and the way he lived his life. I’m grateful for his example and personally tend to lean towards believing in a literal, physical, bodily resurrection. But whether this belief is accurate or inaccurate, I know that what’s most important to me are the values I see exemplified in the words and actions of Jesus – love, grace, peace, hope, empathy, compassion, etc. These are things I firmly believe in and don’t ever want to compromise on. These values will always be good, meaningful, & important to me no matter what the literal truth of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection happens to be.
If this question isn’t something you’ve thought about, I’d encourage you to consider it. It’s a thought-provoking exercise and I think that no matter where you personally land on the topic, it’s good to assess how your particular beliefs on the matter change or don’t change the way you live your life.
Through Her Eyes 