Resurrection: The Story that Defines Us

Passover 5781

 Rabbi Russ Resnik

As we prepare for Passover this year, there’s lots to do—cleaning the leaven out of our houses; buying the right food; inviting family and guests to the Seder, whether in-person or on-screen; and preparing the feast. Amidst all these preparations, it’s vital to remember that we’ll be telling and hearing and even acting out a story, a story that defines who we are and what our lives are about.

In his book After Virtue, philosopher Alisdair MacIntyre writes that the human being is “essentially a story-telling animal.”  

Deprive children of stories and you leave them unscripted, anxious stutterers in their actions as in their words. Hence there is no way to give an understanding of any society, including our own, except through the stock of stories which constitute its initial dramatic resources. (p. 216)

 All the stories that constitute the “dramatic resources” of the Jewish people draw upon or orbit around the grand narrative of our redemption from Egypt, the Passover story. It’s no wonder, then, that the ritual of Passover is meant to arouse the curiosity of our children through every generation. Keeping this ritual is a set-up to telling the story of Passover:

 When you come to the land that Adonai will give you, as he has promised, you are to keep this service. And when your children ask you, “What do you mean by this service?” you shall say, “It is the sacrifice of Adonai’s Passover, because he passed over the houses of the people of Israel in Egypt, when he struck the Egyptians but spared our houses.” (Exod 12:25–27; see also 13:8, 14–15)

 Later, Moses instructs the Israelites to tell the story again, in response to a question our children might ask, not just about the Passover ritual but about all the customs of Torah:

When your son or daughter asks you in time to come, “What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that Adonai our God has commanded you?” then you shall say to them, “We were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt. And Adonai brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. And Adonai showed signs and wonders, great and grievous, against Egypt and against Pharaoh and all his household, before our eyes. And he brought us out from there, that he might bring us in and give us the land that he swore to give to our ancestors. And Adonai commanded us to do all these statutes, to fear Adonai our God, for our good always, that he might preserve us alive, as we are this day.” (Deut 6:20–24)

The Lord provides a story that can be told and retold to keep alive the meaning of Passover—and ultimately the meaning of the whole Torah—for every generation. It’s a story that reminds us who we are, Israel, a people bound in covenant to the Lord.

It’s no wonder, then, that when the Lord sends his Messiah to reveal himself to Israel, the Messiah enters into Israel’s foundational story. His final journey to Jerusalem, where he will be handed over to the gentiles and executed, joins a pilgrimage for Passover. Messiah Yeshua celebrates the Passover with his followers within Jerusalem, joining the multitudes who are observing the festival. It is during Passover that Yeshua is offered up as a sacrificial lamb, providing the ransom for his people. And it is during Passover that Yeshua rises again from the dead. Through both of these mighty deeds Yeshua enters fully into the Passover story, not setting it aside or replacing it, but fully embodying it on behalf of his own people.

During Passover, Luke tells us, the risen Messiah met two of his followers, Cleopas and an unnamed companion, on a road leading out from Jerusalem. Before revealing himself to them, Yeshua asks why they seem so downcast. They tell him about “Yeshua of Natzeret, a man who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people,” who had been condemned to death and crucified a couple of days earlier, even though “we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel.” Yeshua, still unrecognized, reproves them for not believing the words of the prophets: “Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” (Luke 24:13-26). It was necessary not only to fulfill specific prophecies, but to reflect the overall death-to-life trajectory of the divine plan of salvation. Messiah’s suffering and glory are both essential to the whole plan.

Accordingly, then, “beginning with Moses and from all the Prophets, Yeshua interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27). Why does he begin with Moses in this on-the-spot Bible study? Because the death-resurrection linkage is evident throughout the story of redemption that Moses tells. From Canaan, the family of Jacob went down to Egypt, descending from the land of promise to the land of bondage, the land of death. From Egypt, as we recite during the Seder, the Lord “took us out from slavery to freedom, from sorrow to joy, from mourning to festivity, from darkness to great light, and from bondage to redemption. Let us, therefore, sing before him a new song. Halleluyah!” In Scripture, from Moses on, death sets the stage for resurrection, including the death-to-life redemption of Israel that Cleopas and his companion were hoping for.

To this day, the shared story breaks through our isolation and confusion to reveal the meaning of our lives. The story of our redemption from Egypt provides the meaning that defines us, especially as we recognize the account of Messiah’s death and resurrection within it.

If resurrection is our defining story, then, what does that mean for how we live today? That question could lead to a whole drash on its own, so I’ll confine myself to one implication especially relevant to the era of Covid disruption and post-Covid uncertainty: Negative events don’t shake our resurrection foundations.

We neither deny adversity nor seek it out—but when it comes, we know it carries within it the promise of resurrection, new life, new energy, and renewed awareness of God’s presence, for which negative events often set the stage. We are not left “unscripted and anxious,” as Professor MacIntyre puts it. Instead we can face whatever comes without despondency and fear, like Cleopas and his friend who found their hearts burning within them as they heard from the risen Messiah. Or like their frightened companions in Jerusalem, who were also reproved by Yeshua: “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts?” (Luke 24:38). They were troubled by the sight of Yeshua among them, when they thought he was dead and buried, but the master’s words apply to us all, no matter the circumstances: “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts?”

Messiah Yeshua’s resurrection is the story that defines us. This Passover, may we remember it and tell it out loud to renew our hope and confidence in God, no matter what events around us might bring. In the resurrection story, adversity never writes the final line.

 Scripture references are adapted from the ESV.