The unconsidered resurrections

  • Nathan Walter
  • 22 May 2014
My first ever sermon was in a series on the Apostle’s Creed. The line I was given to preach was ‘suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and buried; he descended into hell’.

I still remember my reaction when I heard the news. On one hand relief and excitement, for it meant I would be preaching on the very heart of the gospel—the suffering and death of our Lord Jesus. But then on the other hand, concern and uncertainty, for what was I going to say about Jesus’ descent into hell? Not only was I not entirely sure about what the creed meant, I was also completely unsure about what I thought on the issue!

Needless to say, I seem to have got through it. I can’t remember exactly what I said. But no-one chucked me out of the church, and maybe one day, if I can find a cassette player, I’ll sit down and listen to the tape! One week out from Good Friday this year, though, and I found myself in a somewhat similar position, for the passage I’d been given to preach was Matthew 27:45-56.

It seems to me that each of the crucifixion accounts has its own treasured gospel nuggets. Luke records Jesus’ extraordinary prayer of forgiveness for those who crucified him, as well as the precious promise given to one of the criminals of his entrance that very day into paradise. John masterfully presents Jesus in full command as he fulfils the Scriptures and lays down his own life, declaring, “It is finished”. Matthew’s account is most similar to Mark’s—darkness over the land, Jesus’ cry of desolation quoting Psalm 22, the crowd’s confusion over whether Jesus was calling Elijah, the drinking of wine vinegar, the temple curtain being torn in two from top to bottom, the centurion’s declaration, the watching women. So far so good.

But then in Matthew 27:51-53 we hear of an earthquake, of tombs breaking open, and of the bodies of many holy people who had died being raised to life. These resurrected saints then enter Jerusalem after Jesus’ resurrection and appear to many people. And all of a sudden, I find myself thinking of Jesus’ descent into hell in the Apostle’s Creed!

The challenges that Matthew 27:51-53 presents are many, and widely recognized:

  • There are questions of chronology. When did these events happen? At Jesus’ crucifixion, or after his resurrection? Or somehow across the whole three-day period? Is it really conceivable that the tombs broke open at Jesus’ crucifixion but the saints didn’t emerge and enter Jerusalem until after his resurrection?  But if these events happened after Jesus’ resurrection, why has Matthew included them here, in the account of his crucifixion?

  • There are questions about the nature of these resurrection bodies. Were they raised to natural bodies that would die again, like Lazarus? Or were they raised to resurrection bodies that would never die again, like Jesus himself? If the latter, what happened to them after they entered the holy city? When did they ‘leave’?

  • There are historical reliability questions. Why is it that only Matthew has recorded what can only be described as a truly extraordinary event, especially if, as he indicates, the resurrected ones were seen by so many? Or does the failure of other gospel writers to say anything about this event open up the possibility that Matthew has suddenly shifted for a moment to present theological truth in the guise of history?


In addition to these exegetical challenges, though, there is also the genuine difficulty of presenting this passage to modern listeners. After all, it’s just too supernatural. It’s not that people these days are averse to the idea of zombies—you only have to look at our TV shows and movies to see that. (Is it putting things too strongly to suggest zombies are the new vampires?) But that’s exactly the point: zombies are for fiction, not reality.

Despite these challenges, however, the more I worked on the passage, the more I rejoiced at the opportunity to preach it on Good Friday. Theologically, the point is so clear: Jesus’ death and resurrection brings new life for those who trust him. Life-from-the-dead life. And what’s wonderful about preaching this message is that for those who are dead in sin and by nature objects of wrath, it’s exactly what they desperately need to hear.

Almost perpetually, it seems, great numbers of people continue to see Christianity as something akin to a philosophy or system of good works and morality. It’s hard to crack this popular conception of things, but it’s so important for us to find ways of doing so. I’ve heard of an older minister who for precisely this reason regularly made his practice to preach evangelistically using the miracle stories in the gospels. It just makes it really clear for those listening that Christianity is not a message of good works and morality, but rather is good news about being powerfully rescued by a gracious saviour from a situation about which we are utterly powerless to do anything.

The resurrection of the holy ones in Matthew 27 does exactly the same thing: it just makes really plain for us that Jesus’s death and resurrection is what brings life. It’s not just that Jesus himself was raised from the dead, but that precisely because of this he is able to give life from the dead to everyone who trusts in him.

I don’t think we should hesitate to acknowledge the ‘foolishness’ of Matthew’s crucifixion account to modern ears. And yet for that very reason we mustn’t shrink back from declaring it openly and boldly. For it is the wisdom of God that the world through its wisdom did not know him. And so God is pleased through the foolishness of what is preached—the message of Christ crucified—to save those who believe.