There are so many great Easter hymns and worship songs out there. After all, how can a songwriter go wrong proclaiming the glorious truth of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection? It was hard to narrow it down to my ten favorites, but I gave it a shot.
I’ve created a YouTube playlist with these songs called Resurrection Day. Got a favorite song about Jesus’ resurrection? Suggest it, and maybe I’ll add it to the playlist!
(Please note- I am not familiar with all of these musicians. Their presence here is not an endorsement of any unbiblical theology any of them may hold to. Please thoroughly vet the doctrine of any Christian musician you choose to follow and make sure it matches up with Scripture.)
Nominated by my 11 year old son, who said in the car on the way home from church, “They need to do ‘Jesus Paid it All’ next week, because it is a very appropriate Easter song.”
The resurrection is not an allegory for your personal problems coming to an end. Other than that, this is pure 80’s “in your face, Devil!” CCM awesomeness.
And one of the synagogue officials named Jairus came up, and on seeing Him, fell at His feet and pleaded with Him earnestly, saying, “My little daughter is at the point of death; please come, that by coming, You may lay Your hands on her, so that she will be saved and live.” And He went off with him; and a large crowd was following Him and pressing in on Him.
While He was still speaking, they came from the house of the synagogue official, saying, “Your daughter has died; why trouble the Teacher anymore?” But Jesus, overhearing what had been spoken, said to the synagogue official, “Do not be afraid, only believe.” And He allowed no one to accompany Him, except Peter and James and John the brother of James. And they came to the house of the synagogue official; and He saw a commotion, and people loudly crying and wailing. And entering in, He said to them, “Why are you making a commotion and crying? The child has not died, but is asleep.” And they began laughing at Him. But putting them all out, He took along the child’s father and mother and His own companions, and entered the room where the child was. And taking the child by the hand, He said to her, “Talitha kum!” (which translated means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!”). And immediately the little girl stood up and began to walk, for she was twelve years old. And immediately they were completely astounded. And He gave them strict orders that no one should know about this, and He said that some food should be given to her to eat.
Mark 5:22-24, 35-43
Did you see it?
The wall in my bedroom isn’t painted very well. It’s obvious that someone rolled on a dusty rose color, but I can also see through that layer of paint to an underlying cream color. I have to take a moment and really look at it, but it’s there. Two distinct, yet bonded, layers of paint.
Do you see the two layers to this story? Take a moment. Really look at it.
Do you see the two layers to this story? Take a moment. Really look at it.
Here is a daddy who loves his little girl. She’s dying. He’s in anguish.
Here is a Savior who has compassion on both father and daughter. He raises her back to life, and there is great rejoicing in their home.
Jesus, our Messiah, has the power to heal. Power over death. He is exactly who He claims to be: God in human flesh.
But look more closely. Do you see it?
This isn’t just a story about a nameless little girl in first century Israel. It’s about us and the strikingly beautiful story of salvation.
Here is a little girl. Not a son, so highly prized among the Israelites in that day and age, but a daughter. Virtually valueless, except to her father.
There was nothing intrinsically worthy in her to earn Christ’s favor or attention. She had no wealth, no position, no power, nothing to offer anyone. And on top of that, she was dead.
But her father loved her for no other reason than that she was his, and he was willing to lay down everything he had to save her. He sacrificed his dignity. He risked His reputation and laid aside His position of authority. All for the love of this child—a child whose past had offered him nothing but childishness and disobedience. A child whose future promised the same.
Do you see it?
We are that little girl. Valueless. Unworthy. Childish. Disobedient. Dead.
And for no other reason than our Father’s love for us, Christ comes to us when we cannot come to Him, and raises us from the dead.
And you were dead in your transgressions and sins… But God, being rich in mercy because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.
Ephesians 2:1, 4-7
For no other reason than our Father’s love for us, Christ comes to us when we cannot come to Him, and raises us from the dead.
Everybody seems to be walking around scared these days. I’m a little scared, myself. It’s understandable. There’s a lot of scary stuff happening. Boko Haram. Ebola. ISIS. The persecution of Christians abroad, and, increasingly, here at home.
Terrorism, suicide bombers, the seemingly daily acts of violence that take the lives of innocent bystanders– that all used to happen over there. Thousands of miles across the ocean. And all we had to do to make it go away was turn off the TV, click over to Farmville, or put down the paper. Problem solved. It was unfortunate, but didn’t really touch our lives in any meaningful way.
Until now.
Now we know that there are terrorists living among us right here in the United States, as well as those trying to infiltrate our country by stealthily crossing our borders. When will the next beheading or 9-11 take place on U.S. soil? Who will the next victim be? Will it be you? Will it be me? Will it be thousands of us in one fell swoop?
Any reasonable person would be afraid of that.
Don’t.
That’s what Jesus said. Just don’t.
We’ve got bigger fish to fry in the fear department. Even though it would be awful, the worst thing that could happen to someone is not being killed or even tortured by a terrorist. The worst thing that could happen is for someone to spend an eternity in Hell because she has rejected Christ (which should tell you something about how horrific Hell is).
If you have never turned from your sin and placed your faith in Christ’s death, burial and resurrection as payment for the penalty for your sin, how you’re going to die is the least of your worries compared to what’s going to happen to you after you die. That should scare the living daylights out of you.
If you have never turned from your sin and placed your faith in Christ, how you’re going to die is the least of your worries compared to what’s going to happen to you after you die.
The good news is, Christ offers to forgive you today. His goodness for your badness. His purity for your sinfulness. His grace for your gross. He will set you free from your sin so you’ll no longer fear standing before Him on the day of judgment.
Christ offers to forgive you today. His goodness for your badness. His purity for your sinfulness. His grace for your gross. He will set you free from your sin.
And, if you belong to Christ, you have nothing to fear in this life or the next. Take a look back at that verse. It says to “fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.” But if you’re in Christ, you no longer have to be afraid of Him. And the first part of the verse says not to be afraid of people who can kill your body but not your soul. Nothing to fear now. Nothing to fear later.
Recently, I’ve been hearing a lot of preachers and divangelistas out there teaching that Christians have to constantly take “risks” as proof that we’re growing in Christ, that we have to perform acts of faith that take us outside of our comfort zone, that we have to dare to attempt things that could never be done without God’s direct, miraculous intervention or empowerment.
Well, I’d like to challenge all the proponents of that teaching to take a risk that (I hope) won’t be out of their comfort zone and doesn’t require any miraculous intervention from God:
Find the prescriptive passage of Scripture, chapter and verse, in context, rightly divided, that teaches this “risk doctrine”.
Because I don’t see it.
I see 1 Thessalonians 4:9-11 exhorting us to love the brethren, live quietly, work with our own hands, and walk wisely before outsiders.
I see Titus 2:1-10 telling Christian men and women to learn to be, and teach others to be, submissive, self-controlled, loving, reverent, and kind.
I see the book of 1 John saying that salvation is evidenced by loving Christ, obeying God’s word, shunning worldliness, and confessing our sin.
I don’t see a single Bible character deciding “Hmmm…I’d better come up with some kind of daring deed to do to prove my faith.”
I don’t see a single Bible character deciding “Hmmm…I’d better come up with some kind of daring deed to do to prove my faith.”
Moses was minding his own business tending sheep when God spoke to Him from the burning bush and called on him to confront Pharaoh and lead Israel out of Egypt. Moses’ response? “Send somebody else.”
David wanted to do a great thing for the Lord by building the temple, and God said no.
Paul and the apostles simply obeyed God’s command to preach the gospel. Their earthly reward? Persecution and martyrdom.
Sometimes, as we walk in daily obedience to God’s word, situations will arise that are scary. Circumstances in which we must trust Scripture over our experiences. Life events that require us to obey God’s word even if we lose a job or a friend. Times when we have to believe that God is doing what is best even if it isn’t the outcome we wanted. That’s not a risk; that’s walking in faith and obedience, depending on Christ to carry us through whatever He places in our path.
But the Bible doesn’t say anywhere that we have to prove our faith or growth in Christ by proactively coming up with some big, fat, hairy risk to take, stepping outside of our comfort zone, and daring to do what can only be done by the power of God.
The Bible doesn’t say anywhere that we have to prove our faith or growth in Christ by proactively coming up with some big, fat, hairy risk to take.
In fact, that kind of thing sounds eerily similar to what Satan tempted Jesus to do. Among other things, Satan tempted Jesus to prove Himself by literally “stepping out on faith” – right off the top of the temple – and trusting God to catch Him. And what did Jesus do? He went straight to God’s word and obeyed it by saying no. “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” It didn’t work that way for Jesus, and it doesn’t work that way for us.
The Bible teaches us to act in wisdom, to walk in obedience to Scripture, to trust God even when it’s scary or inconvenient or counter-intuitive. But for a pastor or teacher to say that Christians have to commit acts of derring-do as proof of our faith or level of growth?
That’s risky business.
For a pastor or teacher to say that Christians have to commit acts of derring-do as proof of our faith or level of growth? *That’s* risky business.
They’re words cooed by a mother to dry the tears of her frightened child.
Words murmured bedside by a nurse calming her anxious patient.
They’re comforting words, imparted by someone in charge, someone taking care of us, someone we’re depending on. Words that God has spoken to His people from the beginning.
I’m coming back.
From walking with God Himself in the cool of the day to banishment from the Garden.
The anguish of giving birth.
The toil of tilling the ground.
The sting of physical death.
Could anything compare to man’s ache of losing tangible communion with God? And, yet, even in the curse of the Fall, His bold declaration rang out:
I’m coming back.
In base splendor.
In humble glory.
Emmanuel – God with us – came back.
He tabernacled for a time among us, but all too quickly, the days of His visitation drew to an end.
Time and again, though they would not yet understand,
Though the cross was unfathomable,
And the empty tomb, unimaginable,
He gathered His disciples close and taught, with unassailable authority:
I’m coming back.
They saw the stone rolled away. The nail prints. His riven side. They ate with Him, walked with Him, talked with Him. They followed Him out to a hillside and watched as He was taken up into the clouds.
And with them, we wait. We set our gaze upon the heavens. We long for His blessed return. And we hear the same words they heard…
Words which should drive terror-stricken sinners to their knees in repentance and faith…
Words which warm the hearts of believers with glorious hope, comfort, and joy…
Words which, one dazzling and magnificent day, will never need be heard again…
