51 ¶ Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed–
52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.
1 Corinthians 15:51-52 (NKJV)
By Bro. John L. Cash
Schoolteachers have phenomenal immune systems. Because they work in buildings filled with kids, they get exposed to every bacteria and virus known to mankind. After a few years working in education, most teachers don’t get sick very often. A blood transfusion from an elementary school teacher would probably help sick people get better because of all the antibodies in it.
But it takes a few years for beginner teachers to develop this hearty resistance. And during the first couple of years of practice teaching, a new educator has to fight off every head-cold and stomach-bug that comes along. You can always spot the first-year-teachers. They stand in the hall and say, “I don’t know why, but I’m not feeling the best today.” If you ask them if they are sick, they will reply, “I’m really not certain at all.”
During my first years of teaching, it took me awhile to develop my immunity. I used to complain about my headaches, fever, and queasiness to one of my co-workers — a dear friend who had already been teaching for more than 20 years. She always said, “John, there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s all in your head.” I assured her I was truly ill, indeed. And to prove it, my gravestone was going to say, “See, Marian, I Told You I Was Sick.”
Well, a quarter-century has passed, and my immune system has changed for the better. Likewise, my choice for an epitaph on my gravestone has changed. Instead of a gentle chastisement aimed at a teasing co-worker, I want a phrase that looks forward to the future: “Awaiting The Resurrection of the Body.”
I believe in The Resurrection of the Body. I used to teach Bible class in the public schools, and I always told my high school students that fact. I told them that they needed to make their minds up about these things. “If I didn’t believe in The Resurrection of the Body, I would sleep in on Sundays and keep the money I put in the offering plate,” I told them. I still stand by that.
When I was in seminary, they taught us all the “big” reasons to believe in God and in the Resurrection. But as I live and serve the Lord, I am more convinced of the reality of spiritual things, not because of the important theological theories but because of millions of small reasons I see every day.
For instance, I believe in a Creator because of what happens when celebrities get plastic surgery. Movie stars have all the money in the world, and they can hire the best surgeons to do their face lifts and tummy tucks. But, the truth is that 999 times out of 1,000, the surgeons don’t get it exactly right. The smartest humans in the world can’t make a face as beautiful as the face a tiny baby has when it’s born.
To me, that says our faces were designed by a Creator who is more skilled than any human. And a Creator who can perfectly assemble us in our mother’s wombs will have no trouble perfectly creating our bodies again on the Last Day.
So, have a wonderful Easter Sunday today. And after that, have a wonderful week.
The Resurrection of the Body is the message of Christianity.
The Resurrection of the Body is the Reason for Easter.
Let us all be joyful as we serve Jesus and wait for that beautiful Day.
Dr. John L. Cash is the “Country Preacher Dad.” He was raised in Stuttgart, Arkansas, and has spent the last 30 years being a country preacher in the piney woods five miles south of the little town of Hickory, Mississippi. (On week days has a desk-job at a public school, where he used to teach Latin on closed-circuit-television.) He and his lovely wife, Susan, live in the parsonage next door to the Antioch Christian Church (where there is fellowship dinner and egg hunt, too, if it’s not too rainy.) Their kids include Spencer (age 24), his wife Madeline (age 24), and Seth (age 21). You can send him a note at firstname.lastname@example.org.