“For what is man in nature? A nothing in comparison with the infinite, a whole in comparison with the nothing, a mean between nothing and everything.” – Blaise Pascal, Pensées What strange defiance is this: that the soul, knowing well its fragility, clings still to life? That we, bound in bodies destined to wither, fight against the pull of the abyss? What force keeps the trembling heart beating, even when sorrow presses against the ribs like an iron band? What makes a man, weary of toil and loss, rise again with the sun, unwilling to surrender? The question – Why keep this transient spirit in this perishable frame? – is not merely a philosophical riddle but a cry from the deepest chambers of the human condition. It is the plea of every suffering soul, the whispered anguish of the broken-hearted, the silent query of the lonely and the lost. It is the question asked in hospital rooms and warzones, in sleepless nights and moments of unbearable grief. It is the unuttered...
In the theatre of eternity, where time
bows before timelessness and angels veil their faces before unspeakable glory,
one singular moment tore the fabric of history – a man entered death not as a
captive, but as a conqueror.
The Descent into the Abyss
Death – gaping, ravenous, final. A pit
dark and bottomless, where ancient kings sleep and prophets weep. Its gates are
iron, its chains forged from the judgment of sin. No soul had ever returned,
for “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23), and all had sinned. Every grave
was a fortress. Every tomb, a seal.
But then came Christ.
Not dragged, but driven by love, He stepped into the void. Mocked, marred, pierced, and lifeless, His body was wrapped and laid in the heart of the earth. Yet in the unseen realm, this was no passive submission. This was war.
The Silence That Shook the Heavens
For three days, creation held its
breath. The sun had darkened, the earth had quaked, the veil had torn – but
Hell rejoiced too early. In the deepest chambers of Sheol, the prince of death
believed he had won.
But Scripture speaks a deeper truth: “You will not abandon my soul to Hades, nor will You allow Your Holy One to see corruption” (Acts 2:27, quoting Psalm 16:10.)
This was no ordinary man. This was the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world (Revelation 13:8), the One who holds the keys of Death and Hades (Revelation 1:18). While His body rested, His spirit descended like a hammer into the underworld, proclaiming victory over the spirits in prison (1 Peter 3:19.)
The gates that had never opened began to quake. Chains forged by centuries of sin cracked under the weight of His holiness. Demons shrieked. Thrones trembled. Death itself recoiled.
The Rise of the Firstborn
On the third day, before the dawn had
fully risen, Heaven roared with anticipation. A trembling began in the tomb.
The stone was not rolled away to let Him out, but to show He had already risen.
Christ rose – not revived, not resuscitated – but resurrected. Glorified. Transformed. Incorruptible. “The firstborn from the dead, that in everything He might be preeminent” (Colossians 1:18).
He rose as the prototype of a new creation. Adam brought death; Christ brought life. Where Adam failed in a garden, Jesus triumphed in a grave. He was not merely alive again – He was the Living One who would never die again. Death no longer had dominion over Him (Romans 6:9.) [You may also want to read: FAITH, AND THE BATTLE FOR CHRISTIAN INTEGRITY, where life's belief revolves around the risen Christ.]
The Victor’s March
Like a Roman general parading after
battle, Jesus ascended with the spoils of war. “When
He ascended on high, He led captivity captive and gave gifts to men”
(Ephesians 4:8.) He stormed the gates of Hades, not with weapons, but with
wounds. Each scar on His body became a royal insignia, a declaration that sin
is paid, death is defeated, and hell has no more claim.
He did not just escape death – He turned it inside out. Now, death is no longer an end, but a doorway. The grave is not a prison, but a passage. For “if we have been united with Him in a death like His, we shall certainly be united with Him in a resurrection like His” (Romans 6:5.)
Christ Our Forerunner
Today, the tomb is still empty. A
once-dead man reigns in glory, seated at the right hand of the Father. The Lamb
who was slain is also the Lion who roars –alive forevermore.
He never ceases to offer himself for us but defends us and ever pleads our cause before you: he is the sacrificial Victim who dies no more, the Lamb, once slain, who lives forever.” - Easter Preface III (Roman Missal)
This Easter, we do not merely remember an event. We behold a Person who crushed the ancient serpent with pierced heels. We celebrate the Man who walked into the abyss and emerged holding the keys to every grave.
Let the sceptics scoff, let the world doubt. But the stone was rolled away, the body never found, and the world was changed forever.
He is risen – not just in spirit, not in metaphor, not as legend – but bodily, eternally, triumphantly.
As "The joy of the resurrection renews the whole world, while the choirs of heaven sing forever to your glory." - Easter Preface III (Roman Missal)
“I am He who lives,” He says, “and was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore. Amen. And I have the keys of Hades and of Death” (Revelation 1:18.)
For:"In him the children of light rise to eternal life and the halls of the heavenly Kingdom are thrown open to the faithful; for his Death is our ransom from death, and in his rising the life of all has risen." - Easter Preface II (Roman Missal)
HAPPY EASTER!!!
OKOM, Emmanuel Njor (PhD)
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