Resurrection Life—What Is It Like? - GraceLife Church of Pineville

Introduction

Generally speaking, I have a rule that I don’t use my family in sermon illustrations. There are always exceptions to the rule.

It was the last day of kindergarten for one of my children, which meant it was awards day. The teacher had prepared all the certificates. There was the typical stuff for kindergarten: neatest handwriting, best helper, great sharer.

My son won the mustache award. The mustache award stood for, “I mustache you a question.”

Proud day.

Questions are important. Genuine questions are the vehicles by which we travel the road to truth.

In this series on “Resurrection from the Dead,” half of the sermon titles have been in the form of questions:

“What If Jesus Didn’t Die?”
“Does an Empty Tomb Necessitate Resurrection?”
“What Is Resurrection?”
“When Is Resurrection?”

So now let’s tip the balance and make the majority of the current sermon titles questions, by asking the question you may have been asking since the start of this series: What is resurrection life like?

If you listened to/read my last sermon, you’ll know we’re not asking the question “What is life like in heaven right now?” because the resurrection of the dead¹ hasn’t taken place yet.

Let me give you the answer to this question about what resurrection life is like here at the beginning. It is the general answer that should govern any of the details you are curious about: Resurrection life is continuous, yet discontinuous with our current life.

There is some carryover, but not without change.
There is familiarity, but not without wonder.
There is the expected, but not without surprise.

In addition, because of the continuity, there are some things we can say about resurrection life that are more easily understood. Because of the discontinuity, there is much that will remain mysterious.

Resurrection life is continuous, yet discontinuous with our current life.

In pondering resurrection, both believers and skeptics are moved to ask the same question: What is life after resurrection like? In this sermon, we will look at passages of Scripture that give us a peek behind the curtain. (And if you know anything about resurrection, Scripture, and how we often approach subjects at GraceLife, you won’t be surprised to know that I will not be able to give a comprehensive answer in one sermon. But I will cover what I can.)

Learning from a Disingenuous Question of the Sadducees

Let’s begin in Luke 20, which I’ll supplement with one verse from Mark (as indicated by the italicized text):

Now there came to [Jesus] some of the Sadducees (who say that there is no resurrection), and they questioned Him, saying, “Teacher, Moses wrote for us that ‘if a man’s brother dies,’ having a wife, ‘and he is childless, his brother should marry the wife and raise up children to his brother.’ Now there were seven brothers; and the first took a wife and died childless; and the second and the third married her; and in the same way all seven died, leaving no children. Finally the woman died also. In the resurrection therefore, which one’s wife will she be? For all seven had married her.”

Jesus said to them, “Is this not the reason you are mistaken, that you do not understand the Scriptures or the power of God? The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and the resurrection from the dead, neither marry nor are given in marriage; for they cannot even die anymore, because they are like angels, and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the passage about the burning bush, where he calls the Lord ‘the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.’ Now He is not the God of the dead but of the living; for all live to Him.” (Luke 20:27–38; Mark 12:24 in italics; all NASB)

The direct question of the Sadducees is this: In the resurrection, to whom does the widow of multiple husbands belong?

It’s an interesting question, but it’s not a genuine question. There’s nothing wrong with the question itself, but there is something wrong with the questioners. They are not genuine askers. There’s no pursuit of truth here—just a misguided attempt at trickery. Jesus sees it coming, and He reveals what’s really going on by (as He often does²) asking another question.

And what a way to start a question: “Is this not the reason you are mistaken?”

What a brilliant insult! (If you ever use that line, I suggest you pause after saying it, because the person who receives it will have difficulty hearing whatever comes next.)

Jesus goes on to say: “Is this not the reason you are mistaken, that you do not understand the Scriptures or the power of God?” (italics mine). In other words, Jesus is telling them the reason they’re wrong: they don’t understand the Scriptures or the power of God.

The insult works on several levels.

First, the Sadducees thought they would trap Jesus by creating a paradox in which Jesus would have to somehow contradict Moses. They quote Scripture, and Jesus retorts, “Oh, you must not understand the Scriptures.”

Second, the Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection of the dead. That’s why their question was not a genuine one.

So there’s this multilevel aspect of Jesus’s response. He is saying to them, in essence, “You mishandle the Scriptures (which, by the way, are the power of God), and on top of that, you don’t understand the power of God in that it will be manifested in the raising of the dead.”

Thirdly, not only did the Sadducees reject the resurrection of the dead, but apparently their entire view of the afterlife is suspect. According to the historian Josephus, the Sadducees not only denied a resurrection of the dead, but also denied the continuation of the soul’s existence into an afterlife of any sort. Scripture itself says this, in Acts 23:8: “For the Sadducees say that there is no resurrection, nor an angel, nor a spirit, but the Pharisees acknowledge them all.”³

In this encounter in Luke 20, the Sadducees never set out to learn anything regarding resurrection; they believed that, in their cleverness, they had proven such an idea false. They had this reduction-to-absurdity argument, in which the chaos of untangled marriages in the next life would be too much to overcome, so therefore resurrection must be false. But their assumption is incredibly imbecilic: as if the one who claimed power to raise the dead couldn’t solve the Sadducees’ dilemma. (How was Jesus to respond, after all—with something like, “Why, we hadn’t thought of that—let’s call the whole thing off!”?!)

The Sadducean question might be disingenuous, but this Scripture affords us the opportunity to ask our own questions about this whole interchange and about resurrection life.

The Sadducean question might be disingenuous, but this Scripture affords us the opportunity to ask our own questions about … resurrection life.

Whether the Sadducees knew it or not, there is, underlying their question, important questions that we’re all curious about in the afterlife, namely:

How much connection is there between this life and the next life?
More pointedly, do the things we care about most, or consider the most important in this life, carry over into the next life?

When we ask such questions, we’re asking questions about relationships—that is, our capacity to relate to others. Some of these questions are about the kind of life we will have in our eternal state. Many are probably best answered when we come to the topic of eternal judgment (our next sermon series⁴); however, let’s note now that our capacity to relate is a question of what kind of people we will be in the resurrection. And whether we recognize it or not, it is a question of how our physical nature in the resurrection (because resurrection is physical) will affect that resurrection life.

Renewal + Rescue

The questions asked by the Sadducees are, in fact, only significant because of these physical, relational factors. You see, it’s a biological difference between male and female that allows them to enter into husband-and-wife relationships and to produce offspring.

Considering what Jesus will answer about who and what we’ll be in the resurrection, let’s ask good questions. Here are some of the questions we could ask of this text from Luke 20:

What is meant by “sons of this age?” (Why the use of that phrases vs. something else, like “people alive now”?)
Why distinguish between marrying and being given in marriage?
Why does marrying end in the next life?
Who is (to use Jesus’s language) “worthy to attain to” the next age?
What does it mean to be like an angel?
What does it mean to be “sons of the resurrection”?
How does Moses prove resurrection by calling the Lord “the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob”?

There’s a lot of ink spilled over such questions, but our guiding principle (for both this sermon and ones to come) is this: between this life and the next, there is continuity and discontinuity, and there is similarity and dissimilarity. If there is no real continuity, then there is no real renewal. (There has to be something to renew.) If there is no discontinuity, then there is no real rescue. (If it’s just this world all over again, then what good is that?)

If there is no real continuity, then there is no real renewal. … If there is no discontinuity, then there is no real rescue.

Resurrection is both renewal and rescue: renewal of creation and rescue from that which destroyed it in the first place. It is this continuity and discontinuity—this similarity and dissimilarity—that I believe underlies the way in which Jesus responds.

To help understand a passage or an answer like this, you need to back up and ask how a question like this comes about.

In this scenario described in Luke 20, the woman had multiple husbands primarily for the purpose of producing a son; and in this case, the firstborn son would then bear the name of the dead. We learn that from Moses:

When brothers live together and one of them dies and has no son, the wife of the deceased shall not be married outside the family to a strange man.⁵ Her husband’s brother shall go in to her and take her to himself as wife and perform the duty of a husband’s brother to her. It shall be that the firstborn whom she bears shall assume the name of his dead brother, so that his name will not be blotted out from Israel. (Deuteronomy 25:5–6)

This is the context—the verses from which the Sadducees get their challenge. Jesus draws on this continuity. I believe that’s why He focuses on this concept of sonship in His response. He doesn’t just say “people who are alive now” but “sons of this age.” There’s a continuity in both ages⁶: there are sons in both. But here’s where the discontinuity comes in:

In this age, sons carry the name of the dead.
In the age to come, sons carry the name of the living, because the “sons of the resurrection” (Luke 20:36) are the “sons of God.” They cannot die anymore (in that way, they’re like angels).

Jesus continues to draw on the continuity and discontinuity when it comes to marriage.

Continuity + Discontinuity in Marriage

The chief question posed by the Sadducees can be boiled down to this: Who is the supreme husband in the next life?

The answer to that question was standing right in front of them. Jesus Himself, in the Gospels, refers to Himself as the bridegroom. Scripturally speaking, Christ is the groom, and we, the church, are His bride.⁷ He is the supreme husband in the next life.

The apostle Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, declares, “We are members of His body. For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and shall be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh. This mystery is great; but I am speaking with reference to Christ and the church” (5:30–32).

We hear also from the book of Revelation:

“Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready.” It was given to her to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints.

Then he said to me [John], “Write, ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.’” And he said to me, “These are true words of God.” (19:7–9)

In both of these instances in Scripture, that which we hold on to as dear—marriage and parenting (as great as they are)—is superseded by something greater. Our worldly relationships are superseded. You see, being a son of God is more important than being a son in this age (by the way, that’s also the answer to the question about who is worthy to attain to the next age—only the sons of God are). And marriage in this life is superseded by the marriage of the Lamb.

That which we hold on to as dear [in this life]—marriage and parenting, as great as they are—is superseded by something greater. … Being a son of God is more important than being a son in this age. … And marriage in this life is superseded by the marriage of the Lamb.

But, however strong that theology might be, most want to push on this passage more: What do you mean no marriage in heaven? Are you saying there’s no sex in heaven?

There was a pastor preaching one Sunday, and he declared to his congregation, rather dogmatically, “There is no marriage in heaven.” To that, one of the older ladies in his congregation responded, “Amen.” The pastor continued and resolutely declared, “And there is no sex in heaven,” to which one of the young men in the congregation declared, “No sex?! That sounds more like hell.” At that point (so the story goes), one of the older men in the congregation spoke up and said, “No, son, that sounds more like marriage.” (If any of those attitudes are yours, seek out a biblical counselor!)

This story serves to illustrate how strongly our desires—indeed, how strongly not only our desires but our desires about our desires—can influence the way we think about our relationship to one another and to God.

Curiosity is reasonable. But here’s the point—my warning on a passage like this is, don’t try to squeeze too much out of the text; don’t try to make it say something that isn’t there. You’ll miss the whole point.

Personally, I think we push this passage too far. It’s a popular interpretation to say that if there’s no death in the next life, then that means there’s no need for new births to propagate the human race; and because there’s no need for new birth, there’s no need for sex, and thus there’s no need for marriage. To that line of reasoning, I respond, maybe. It’s not a bad interpretation. But, in that case, I’m not quite sure what to do about God’s instructions to Adam and Eve, who were created in a deathless world and were nevertheless given the bliss of that relationship.

Granted, the passage does seem to say at least that there are no new marriages at the resurrection. It doesn’t say much more than that about all the technicalities, but it does say much more than that about God. Nevertheless, again, our curiosities are reasonable because these relationship questions about the resurrection are meaningful given that the resurrection is physical.

But these curiosities about physical relationships in heaven are not the focus of the passage. The focus of the passage is on death and man’s inability to overcome it. There’s death of a womb, death of husbands, and death finally of the woman. Here enters Christ’s curious claim: “For they cannot even die anymore, because they are like angels …” (Luke 20:36).

Curiosities about physical relationships in heaven are not the focus of the passage. The focus of the passage is on death and man’s inability to overcome it.

“Like Angels”: Christ’s Curious Claim

Jesus’s curious claim is that we will be like or equal to angels. We’re going to be like something that we’re currently not.

How? We do not become angels. We do not become spirit beings. Whereas angelic nature is only spirit, human nature is spirit and body. You can be like something in a significant way without being that thing.

You can be like something in a significant way without being that thing.

We are similar or like or equal to angels, as the text states, because we can’t die. But we are dissimilar or dislike or unequal to angels in the fact that we have bodies.

I think Christ introduces this parallel not to so much to talk about angels, but rather to address the Sadducees’ issue of unbelief. Unbelief is a really big deal. Remember, Acts 23:8 tells us that the Sadducees denied (1) resurrection, (2) angels, and (3) spirits. (This is the order in which you see things addressed as well.) Jesus is saying, You don’t believe in resurrection—I confirm its existence; you don’t believe in angels—I confirm their existence; and lastly, you don’t believe in the continuing of the spirit into the next life—I also confirm that existence.

Jesus closes with the crux of the matter:

But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the passage about the burning bush, where he calls the Lord the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now He is not the God of the dead but of the living; for all live to Him. (Luke 20:37–38)

Minimally, I would argue that the text seems to confirm the present existence of these men (I am the God of these men).

Here’s how most deal with this passage, and I think it’s justifiable based on Jesus addressing the issues with the Sadducees: I believe minimally the passage shows that there exists in the present Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The text doesn’t say (to paraphrase), “I was the God of these now non-existing men” (italics mine) but, rather, “I am the God of these whose souls remain, and I preserve them until the resurrection.”

I think that view is legitimate; however, as we’ve learned, and as I hope you’ve understood, existing souls are not the same as resurrected humans. Those who have passed on are with the Lord—their spirit is with Him; part of them, though, has been left behind. They have not yet experienced resurrection. So, how do we make the leap from, “Well, their souls exist; therefore, they must be resurrected someday”?

That is a good question. If you’ll ask it and pursue it, there is a reward.

We too quickly look over the details. We fail to ask the right questions. You have to be dumb enough to ask the simple questions, because they’re the smart ones. Here are the simple—but smart—questions we should be asking:

Q: Who is He the God of?
A: He is the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.

Q: Who are Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob?
A: They’re a father, a son, and a grandson—a preserved lineage.

Q: What was the Sadducees’ original purpose?
A: The Sadducees wanted to confound Jesus with a question that proved the silliness of the resurrection.

Q: What kind of question?
A: A question illustrating the failure of men in this life to preserve their lineage, to perpetuate their names.

Upon this last point, Jesus will show them their lack of understanding of the Scriptures and of God’s power.

And if they had known their Scriptures and the power of God, they would know that in the burning bush episode, God introduces Himself to Moses as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and tells Moses to go to Egypt, specifically to Pharoah, and say, “Israel is My son, My firstborn. Let my son go that he may serve Me.”

Synthesis

Now you have all the data you need. Let’s put together our answers from our questions and better understand how these Scriptures point to God’s power. Here’s the synthesis:

Resurrection highlights the differences between this world and the next—differences that build upon our similarities, but renew in them all that is good and rescue them from all that is wrong.
In this age—the ways of this world—it’s the living sons who have to carry the name of a dead and failed father, who failed to produce a firstborn son. But in the heavenly world, it is the living Father who preserves the name of our dead and failed race and rescues His firstborn.
He is the God of men named Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Bible promises that He rescues His firstborn, and their names are not blotted out from Israel, nor are their names blotted out from the book of life, because of their connection to the Name.

Conclusion

There are a lot of questions about the resurrection. There’s more to say later about what we can know, even some fun details about what our bodies must be like. But those discoveries are only for those who first choose to ground themselves in Scripture to discover God’s power.

Here are some questions to conclude:

What perceived absurdities cause you to imagine a resurrection that is less than the one God had designed? Are there things that seem too fantastical—things about which you say, “Ah, that can’t be the case, so resurrection can’t be like that”? We might wonder how bodies that get turned to dust come back. I’m surprised at our lack of imagination—or, rather, at how we can hold to so many strange things from Scripture, but we won’t hold on to just one strange thing. A popular philosopher, an apologist, whose book I’ve been reading takes up the topic of the book of Genesis, and he talks about how it must be myth because of the talking snake in it. All I can think is, “Brother, do you know the other things you believe? A talking snake is nothing!”
Are you guilty of hypersensitive, overreactive views of the Scripture that cause you to miss the larger point? The details are important, but we need to understand how they function. Are we married in the next life? Is there a wife? Is there any connection to this life? These are important details, but they’re not the point of the story recorded in Luke 20. The larger point was to see that death rules in this world, and it destroys those who attempt to perpetuate a name. Yet, in the very passage in which God tells Moses, “Let me tell you My name: I AM. I am the ever-present One, and I will be the living Father of those who have passed on, and I will rescue them, my firstborn.” That’s the point.
Are you guilty of a dull approach to the Scriptures that cause you to miss all the points because you never read any of it? Take advantage of the freedom you have to engage your own personal copy of God’s Word.
What relationships in this life have you valued more than your relationship with God? Jesus says some tough things about family. He’ll divide family members.⁸ Compared to your love for Him, you must hate them.⁹ Your most cherished relationships, even those of marriage and family, are less than, when compared to God. We don’t throw out those relationships. We cherish them. But there’s continuity and discontinuity. So, whatever is good in those cherished relationships point to something that is better in the most significant relationship that you have—your relationship with God.
Are you afraid that the next life loses some fun, or that there will be less pleasure? Don’t be. Again, there’s continuity and discontinuity. Whatever pleasure there is in this life points to pleasures in the next life—but in a discontinuous way, because in the next life, it will be even better.
Finally, you are a child of one age or the other. Which more characterizes your current life: child of this age or child of the resurrection?

In the life to come, there will be continuity and discontinuity—continuity with the good, discontinuity with the bad. I encourage you now to get ahead of the curve. Hold on to what is good; shun evil.

In the life to come, there will be continuity and discontinuity—continuity with the good, discontinuity with the bad.

Moses’s Old Testament encounter with the living God resulted in the revelation that God was the God of the living, and that He would rescue His firstborn son. And so, too, we see revealed, in the New Testament, that the living God did in fact rescue His Son. And because of that, we have the promise of our rescue as well.

We will continue to explore what that renewed life looks like in the sermons to come.

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