Resurrection Hope

by Robin Dalloo

During my high school years, my parents often took my brothers and me on road trips from our home in Winnipeg to various places in Canada and the United States. One of the wonderful stops we made was in South Bend, Indiana, where my Uncle Harold lived with my aunt Alfrieda and their children.

Among many other things, Uncle Harold was a professor of biblical studies at the University of Notre Dame. I vividly remember the first time we visited Uncle Harold at his home in South Bend. On the way there, I was sitting in the back of our minivan. The lights on the highway shone in the darkness. “Who is this Uncle Harold, the professor of biblical studies?” I wondered. “What sort of things do they talk about in biblical studies?”

I remember flipping to the back of my Study Bible to find something with which to impress him. In the glossary, I found two strange words: “Pentateuch” and “Septuagint.” The Pentateuch is a name for the first five books of Moses. The Septuagint is an ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament. At the dinner table that night, with the smell of Aunt Alfrieda’s baking wafting from the kitchen, I asked him to tell me more about the Pentateuch. He appreciated my curiosity and validated my love of learning. Thus began the first of many discussions about theology.

Our relationship deepened in other ways too. I recall one day chatting while playing catch together in my uncle’s backyard. Cardinals—cute little red birds I had not seen before at home in Winnipeg—chirped in the background while we threw the baseball back and forth.

When I was 29, Uncle Harold and his family moved to Winnipeg. By then I was deeper into my academic study of theology in university, and I enjoyed our ongoing conversations. My family enjoyed many visits with Uncle Harold, Aunt Alfrieda, and my cousin Geoff. We would watch the Superbowl, have singsongs with piano and guitar, and share great meals together.

My cousin Geoff suffered from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy—something which leads to severe muscle degeneration. Uncle Harold and Aunt Alfrieda looked after Geoff his whole life. Sadly, Geoff passed away in December of 2024. And my Uncle Harold passed away this past January.

Because of the hope we have in Christ, I am confident that death does not mean the end of the interactions we enjoy with loved ones. No, they will continue in glory. And this won’t be just something spiritual or ethereal—the resurrection of Christ at Easter promises us that we will be raised bodily one day too.

Paul the Apostle writes about the resurrection of the body in 1 Corinthians 15, noting that some in Corinth were claiming there is no resurrection of the body. But Paul responds: “If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised” (v. 13). But of course, Jesus has been raised (v. 20). So, what does that imply about our own resurrection?

In verse 22, the Apostle explains that “as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.” Christ’s resurrection and our resurrection, then, are wholly united. The two go hand in hand. Paul says that Christ’s resurrection is a kind of “firstfruits” (vv. 20, 23). That might sound confusing, but it simply means the first instance or example in a series of related things. Jesus’ resurrection is “the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (v. 20). Our resurrection, which will occur “when He comes” again, will be the later fruits (v. 23).

All the limits we feel while on this earth will one day be removed, and we will be raised with new and imperishable bodies.

But what will that resurrection be like? In verse 42, Paul says that the body is sown in corruption (or “perishable”) but will be raised incorruptible (or “imperishable”). All that is broken in our bodies in this world, all that has been corrupted by sin and death, will be no more. We will receive new bodies. “For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality” (v. 53).

Near the end of Paul’s discussion of the resurrection, he asks two famous rhetorical questions—questions often included in funeral liturgies: “Oh death, where is thy sting? Oh grave, where is thy victory?” (v. 55). The answer of course is that Christ’s resurrection has removed the sting of death. The only victory belongs to Christ and not to death. “Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (v. 56).

Scripture tells us then that all who believe in Christ will be joined together with Him in the life of the world to come. We will see our loved ones again, and enjoy a deeper relationship both with each other and with God than we ever did before.

In college, I had a dear friend named Brent whom I met in a theology class. Prior to us meeting, Brent had suffered a brain tumour, and while he was very intelligent, he sometimes struggled with confusion and memory loss. One day Brent called me, quite excited but very confused. He wanted me to participate in a golf tournament with him. Brent didn’t golf, but he had heard I played occasionally and somehow had gotten the impression I must be a competitive golfer. He wanted to be my caddy. I had to decline Brent’s offer, since I didn’t feel confident enough to compete.

Brent was very disappointed, but we went bowling instead. Over the years, we would visit many times, going for coffee, going bowling, and having many great conversations about faith.

Recently, Brent passed away. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we would have had that moment of golf together. I wonder a lot of things. I wonder what it would have been like if Brent had not suffered the after-effects of a brain tumour. I wonder what it would be like if my cousin Geoff had not suffered from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy.

One day, the physical limitations which prevented Brent and I from enjoying golf together will be gone. So will those which kept Geoff from enjoying a game of catch with Uncle Harold and me. All the limits we feel while on this earth will one day be removed, and we will be raised with new and imperishable bodies. Gone will be sickness. Gone will be death. Gone will be sin and every kind of suffering. And in their place will be perfect fellowship—perfect joy—with each other and with the God who made and redeemed us.

In The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis says that our suffering in this world only makes sense when considered in light of eternity, since in heaven the crosses and disappointments of this world will finally find their remedy. There true joy will become a reality. “Scripture and tradition habitually put the joys of heaven into the scale against the sufferings of earth,” he explains, “and no solution of the problem of pain which does not do so can be called a Christian one.”

Pain and suffering are real, but so is the promise of new life and new bodies in the life to come. If you’re questioning the problem of pain and injustice in this earthly life, the resurrection is your answer. Jesus’ resurrection makes certain your resurrection. That’s the promise of Easter!

“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed—in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed…”

– 1 Corinthians 15:51-52 –

Robin Dalloo is a writer with a Master of Divinity degree living in Winnipeg, where he is a member of Saint James Lutheran Church.

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