Seeking the Living Among the Dead

why keep bringing spices to an empty tomb..

Before dawn broke on the first day of the week, the women made their way toward a tomb carrying spices meant for a body they were certain was still lying there. They loved Jesus deeply, but they came expecting death, not life. They came to tend to what they believed was over, to honor a memory rather than encounter a Messiah. Their grief was sincere, but their expectation was tragically small.

Heaven met them with a question sharp enough to cut through the fog of sorrow: “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:5–6). It was not a rebuke. It was a revelation. A divine interruption meant to expose the painful mismatch between what they expected and what God had already done. The stone was rolled away. The grave clothes were folded. Resurrection had already taken place. Yet they were still carrying spices for a funeral God had already canceled.

Mary, overwhelmed and disoriented, asked the only question she could form: “Sir, if You have carried Him away, tell me where You have laid Him…” (John 20:15). She was searching for a body, but the One she sought was standing behind her, alive and speaking her name.

We Still Walk Toward Tombs

Holy Week comes, and we rehearse the story, but we rarely recognize ourselves in it. We rise “after the Sabbath” and head toward the places where we assume God still resides. We walk toward the church house on the corner, toward the Easter service, toward the familiar pew and the predictable ritual. We carry our own modern spices—not in jars, but in habits and expectations. We bring the tithe we have prepared, the song we know by heart, the hour we have set aside out of duty, the routine we repeat without reflection.

We come to anoint a memory rather than encounter a living Lord. We come expecting a service, not a resurrection. We come to honor what was, not to meet the One who is.

And unlike Mary, we do not even ask, “Where have You taken Him?” because we do not realize the tomb is empty. We do not realize He has moved. We do not realize He refuses to be confined to the places where we left Him.

Jesus Does Not Dwell in Dead Places

He is not waiting behind stained glass for us to visit Him once a week. He is not sitting on a stage waiting for the lights to come up. He is not hiding in the liturgy we recite without listening. He is not lingering in the rituals we perform without expectation.

Stephen declared that “The Most High does not dwell in temples made with hands.” (Acts 7:48), and Paul reminded the Corinthians that “You are the temple of God, and the Spirit of God dwells in you.” (1 Corinthians 3:16).

The empty tomb was the first sign. The torn veil was the second. The risen Christ was the third. God was finished with dead spaces, finished with sacred locations, finished with the idea that His presence could be visited rather than lived.

The Real Holy Week Question

This week is not an invitation to reenact the death of Jesus. It is an invitation to refuse the mistake of the women who came to honor a dead Christ when a living Christ was trying to meet them. It is an invitation to stop seeking Him in dead rituals, dead traditions, dead religion, dead expectations, dead systems, and dead buildings.

It is an invitation to seek Him where He actually is: in the heart that listens, in the home that welcomes Him, in the secret place where His voice is clear, in the surrendered life that follows Him, and in the quiet moments where His presence rests.

He is not in the tombs we keep revisiting. He is not in the rituals we keep repeating. He is not in the systems we keep propping up. He is risen, and He is raising us.

A Living Temple

“We keep bringing spices to an empty tomb, but the Risen One wants to anoint us to become His living temple.”

The Status Quo Has Got to Go

Introduction

There comes a moment in every generation when polite silence becomes a form of rebellion against God, and when maintaining the familiar becomes more dangerous than confronting the truth. Scripture shows us that this moment arrives whenever God sends help, correction, or reform – and the people who need it most refuse to receive it. As John writes, “He came unto his own, and his own received him not.” (John 1:11, KJV)

Light Exposes What Darkness Protects

Jesus explained the deeper reason for this resistance: “Light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.” (John 3:19-20, KJV) People do not reject truth because it is unclear; they reject it because it is inconvenient. Light reveals what darkness has been protecting, and the status quo prefers the safety of shadows to the discomfort of exposure.

The Diagnosis: A People Who Will Not Turn

Long before Christ walked the earth, Isaiah diagnosed the spiritual disease that afflicts every generation that refuses correction. God declared, “Make the heart of this people fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and convert, and be healed.” (Isaiah 6:10, KJV) The tragedy is not that healing is unavailable, but that the people will not turn to receive it.

Jesus repeated this same diagnosis in His own ministry, saying, “For this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart, and should be converted, and I should heal them.” (Matthew 13:15, KJV) The disease is spiritual stubbornness – a refusal to hear, to see, to understand, and therefore a refusal to be healed.

Moses: Resisted by His Own People

Before Moses ever confronted Pharaoh, he confronted the unbelief of his own people. When he attempted to intervene between two Israelites, one of them retorted, “Who made thee a prince and a judge over us?” (Exodus 2:14, KJV) The very people crying out for deliverance resisted the deliverer God sent.

Jeremiah: Punished for Telling the Truth

Jeremiah warned Judah of coming judgment, but instead of repentance, he received hostility. The leaders declared, “This man is worthy to die: for he hath prophesied against this city.” (Jeremiah 26:11, KJV) Later, they cast him into a dungeon (Jeremiah 38:6) for daring to speak what God commanded.

Amos: Told to Take His Message Elsewhere

When Amos confronted Israel’s corruption, Amaziah the priest told him, “O thou seer, go, flee thee away into the land of Judah… but prophesy not again any more at Bethel.” (Amos 7:12-13, KJV) The status quo always tries to export the voice that confronts it.

Isaiah: A People Who Prefer Smooth Things

Isaiah described a people who begged their prophets to stop telling the truth: “Speak unto us smooth things, prophesy deceits.” (Isaiah 30:10, KJV) They preferred comforting lies to uncomfortable truth.

Stephen: Exposing the Pattern

Stephen summarized the entire history of resistance in one devastating sentence: “Ye do always resist the Holy Ghost: as your fathers did, so do ye.” (Acts 7:51, KJV) The problem was not new; it was inherited.

Jesus: Without Honor Among His Own

Even the Son of God experienced the sting of familiarity: “A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house.” (Mark 6:4, KJV) The people who watched Him grow up could not imagine God using someone they thought they already understood.

Samuel: The Rejection Behind the Rejection

When Israel demanded a king, God told Samuel, “They have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me.” (1 Samuel 8:7, KJV) Every rejection of God’s messenger is ultimately a rejection of God’s correction.

The Danger of a Hardened Heart

Hebrews warns repeatedly, “To day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” (Hebrews 3:7-8, 15, KJV) A hardened heart is the final defense of a dying system. Proverbs adds the sobering consequence: “He, that being often reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy.” (Proverbs 29:1, KJV)

A Loving Rebuke

This is not rebellion, arrogance, or a call to chaos. It is a call to truth, courage, and spiritual clarity. Real love does not protect dysfunction, preserve decay, or defend a system God is trying to dismantle. Real love says, “Enough. This is not working. The status quo has got to go.”

Final Call to Return

God has never left His people without a path home. Even in the midst of judgment, He speaks mercy. He says, “And I will give them an heart to know me, that I am the Lord: and they shall be my people, and I will be their God: for they shall return unto me with their whole heart.” (Jeremiah 24:7, KJV)

This is not a political strategy. This is not a cultural campaign. This is the mercy of God extended to a people who have lost their way.

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14, KJV)

As Jesus said to the churches, “He that hath an ear, let him hear.”

THE DIGITAL GARDEN: A MODERN PARABLE OF BLAME, BOUNDARIES, AND THE ANCIENT SERPENT

The Story in the News

This week, a story appeared in the news. It is the kind that slips past most people. This happens because it feels ordinary now. A child wandered through the digital wilderness for long hours. When the consequences finally surfaced, the courtroom lights turned toward the platforms that hosted her wandering. The verdict was loud. The headlines were louder. The chorus was familiar: someone else is responsible for what happened in my garden. It is an old song, older than lawsuits and algorithms, older than screens and social feeds. It is the first melody humanity ever sang after tasting forbidden fruit.

The Original Garden and Its Boundary

In the beginning, the garden was simple. God planted it with beauty and purpose, and He placed the man within it to tend and keep it. And God, in His wisdom, established a safeguard. Scripture says, “And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die” (Genesis 2:16-17). The boundary was clear. The command was simple. The safeguard was unmistakable. It was not a fence or a wall. It was a word, a divine line drawn for the protection of innocence.

The Temptation’s Allure

The tree itself was not poisonous. It was not ugly. It was not repulsive. Scripture says, “And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat” (Genesis 3:6). The temptation was not wrapped in darkness but in beauty. It was lovely to look at. It promised wisdom. It offered insight. It held the allure of knowledge. This was the knowledge of good and evil. It was the entire spectrum of human experience condensed into a single bite.

The Digital Parallel

Tell me that does not resemble the glowing rectangles we place into the hands of children today. Tell me that does not mirror the endless feeds of social media. Good and evil swirl together in a single stream. Beauty and corruption sit side by side. Wisdom and foolishness are offered without restraint. The serpent has not changed his strategy. He has simply updated the interface.

The First Human Response: Blame

And when the consequences came in Eden, the ancient instinct awakened. God called to the man and said, “Where art thou?” (Genesis 3:9). Not because He lacked knowledge, but because the man had abandoned his post. And when confronted, Adam did not confess. He deflected. “The woman whom Thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat” (Genesis 3:12). Eve followed the same path. “The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat” (Genesis 3:13). The first human response to sin was not repentance but blame. The man blamed the woman. The woman blamed the serpent. And humanity has been outsourcing responsibility ever since.

Modern-Day Replays

We are watching the same scene replayed in courtrooms today. A child wanders through the digital garden. A parent hands over the device. A platform profits from the wandering. And when the harm surfaces, the finger points outward. The serpent is sued. The tree is examined. The garden is scrutinized. The designer is blamed. Anything but the one who opened the gate.

The Parental Responsibility

It is like a parent purchasing a plane ticket for a child. They pack the bags. They walk the child to the gate. They wave goodbye as the child boards a flight to a city the parent has never visited. The child lands and wanders the streets alone. The child becomes frightened and overwhelmed. Then the parent sues the airline for “transporting a minor.” The airline did not kidnap the child. The parent purchased the ticket. The parent enabled the journey. The parent opened the way. Yet the blame shifts upward, never inward.

The Tree’s Beauty and the Lost Boundary

A lawyer appeared on television this week. He spoke of the platforms’ design as “lovely to look at” and “crafted to draw children in.” He meant it as an indictment of modern technology, but he accidentally quoted Moses. The tree was pleasant to the eyes. The fruit was desirable to make one wise. The temptation was not in its ugliness but in its beauty. And the safeguard was not in the tree but in the command: do not eat.

The garden had a boundary. The home once had boundaries. But in this generation, the boundaries have been erased. We place glowing trees of knowledge into the hands of children and remove every safeguard God once placed around innocence. Then when the consequences come, we seek a payday to ease our guilt and soothe our conscience. We look for settlements instead of repentance. We seek compensation instead of correction. We prefer a judgment that pays rather than a judgment that purifies.

Divine Justice and Accountability

But Scripture says, “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?” (Genesis 18:25). The Judge of all the earth does not accept excuses. He does not settle cases with hush money. He does not allow blame to be passed like a hot coal from hand to hand. He weighs motives. He examines hearts. He judges actions, not intentions. “For the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by Him actions are weighed” (1 Samuel 2:3).

Children as Divine Heritage

One truth stands firm. It cannot be litigated away, ignored, or outsourced. It is written in the very breath of Scripture. Children do not belong to the state, the school, the platform, the algorithm, or the culture. They belong to the Lord. Scripture declares, “Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is His reward” (Psalm 127:3). A heritage is not a hobby. A reward is not a burden. A child is not a digital consumer to be managed by corporations. Nor is a child a social media performer to be applauded by strangers. A child is a trust placed in the hands of parents by God Himself.

The Divine Command to Parents

And with that trust comes a command, not a suggestion. Scripture does not say, “If convenient, guide them.” It does not say, “If culture approves, instruct them.” It does not say, “If you have time, shape them.” It says, “Train up a child in the way he should go” (Proverbs 22:6). The verb is active. The responsibility is direct. The assignment is divine. Parents are not permitted to abdicate this calling, nor to hand it over to screens, systems, or artificial intelligence.

The Parental Role in Nurture and Admonition

The Lord did not give the task of training children to devices. He did not give it to algorithms. He did not give it to platforms. He gave it to fathers and mothers. Scripture says, “And ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4). The nurture belongs to the parent. The admonition belongs to the parent. The shaping of the heart belongs to the parent. The guarding of the gate belongs to the parent.

The Reality of Accountability

We cannot sue our way out of the consequences of abdicated stewardship. We cannot litigate our way out of the responsibilities God placed in our hands. We cannot purchase innocence with payouts. We cannot outsource accountability to corporations and courts. The serpent is real. The fruit is tempting. The garden is vulnerable. And the ones entrusted with its care are still accountable before God.

The Judge’s Expectation

The Judge still walks into the garden. He still calls out, “Where art thou?” And He still expects an answer.

HYMNS OF REDEMPTION: There Is a Fountain

Some hymns comfort the heart, and some cleanse it. There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood does both. This hymn was written by William Cowper. He was a man who knew the depths of despair and the fierce mercy of God. It is not polished or ornamental. It is honest. It is vulnerable. It is the cry of a soul. This soul has discovered that to find cleansing, healing, and hope, one must go to the foot of the cross.

Cowper’s words are not theoretical. They rise from a life marked by suffering, doubt, and repeated battles with darkness. And yet, out of that struggle came a powerful declaration of grace in hymnody. The blood of Christ is not merely symbolic. It is effective, cleansing, restoring, and sufficient. This hymn does not shy away from the cost of redemption. It invites the believer to step into the stream of mercy. This mercy flows from Christ’s sacrifice. There, they find a hope that cannot be shaken.

Zechariah 13:1 provides our anchor. On that day, there shall be a fountain opened to cleanse them from sin and uncleanness.
Cowper takes this ancient promise to the foot of Calvary. He reminds us that the fountain is not a metaphor. It is the very life of Christ poured out for us.

As you listen to the piano meditation, let this hymn wash over you. Let it remind you that grace is not fragile. Mercy is not scarce. The cleansing love of Christ is deeper than your failures and stronger than your fears. Let this be a moment of renewal.


Hymn Lyrics: There Is a Fountain public domain

  1. There is a fountain filled with blood
    Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;
    And sinners plunged beneath that flood
    Lose all their guilty stains.
  2. The dying thief rejoiced to see
    That fountain in his day;
    And there may I, though vile as he,
    Wash all my sins away.
  3. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
    Shall never lose its power
    Till all the ransomed Church of God
    Be saved, to sin no more.
  4. E’er since by faith I saw the stream
    Thy flowing wounds supply,
    Redeeming love has been my theme
    And shall be till I die.
  5. When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
    Lies silent in the grave,
    Then in a nobler, sweeter song
    I’ll sing Thy power to save.

Audio Meditation


Let the music draw you into the cleansing, renewing mercy of Christ.


About the Hymnwriter

William Cowper (1731–1800) was a poet of extraordinary sensitivity and depth. His life was marked by profound emotional struggle, yet out of that struggle came hymns of remarkable clarity and hope. There Is a Fountain is one of his greatest works. It is a hymn that testifies to the power of Christ’s blood to cleanse, restore, and sustain. Cowper partnered with John Newton, the author of Amazing Grace. Together they produced the Olney Hymns. This collection has shaped Christian worship for generations. His words remind us that God often brings the richest truth out of the deepest valleys.


Benedictional Prayer

May the cleansing love of Christ wash over your heart today.
May His mercy quiet every fear and lift every burden.
May His grace renew your hope and strengthen your steps.
And may the fountain of His salvation flow through every part of your life.
Amen.

JETTISONING JESUS

A Watchman Report on Foundations, Feasts, and the Straw House of Modern Churchianity

There are moments in history when a people drift so gradually from their foundation. They do not realize the ground beneath them has shifted. This happens until the earth itself begins to tremble.

The modern church stands in such a moment.

We have not merely wandered from the ancient paths. We have quietly dismantled them, piece by piece. All the while, we convince ourselves that the structure still stands.

We have tossed out far more than the proverbial baby with the bathwater. We discarded the bathwater and the tub. We also discarded the plumbing and the blueprints. Additionally, we discarded the very foundation stones upon which God Himself once built His house. In their place, we erected a sentimental straw cottage. It is charming in December and pastel‑pretty in April. However, it is utterly incapable of withstanding the slightest gust of truth or trial.

This is not exaggeration.
It is diagnosis.

God’s Feasts: The Blueprint with Jesus’ DNA Embedded in Every Line

The feasts of the Lord were never cultural artifacts or Jewish relics. They were the architecture of redemption—the prophetic calendar of the Messiah, the divine storyline etched into time itself.

Scripture declares plainly:

“These are the feasts of the LORD, holy convocations which you shall proclaim at their appointed times.” (Leviticus 23:4)

Every feast carries the unmistakable imprint of Christ:

  • Passover“Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us.” (1 Corinthians 5:7)
  • Unleavened Bread — the sinless One laid in the tomb
  • Firstfruits“Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.” (1 Corinthians 15:20)
  • Pentecost — the Spirit poured out (Acts 2)
  • Trumpets — the King’s return, “at the last trumpet.” (1 Corinthians 15:52)
  • Atonement — the Day of Judgment (Leviticus 16)
  • Tabernacles — God dwelling with man (Zechariah 14:16)

These are not rituals.
They are revelations.

They are God’s fingerprints pressed into the calendar of creation.

And because God is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8), His ways do not change.

The Cornerstone We Quietly Replaced

Scripture is unambiguous:

“For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ.”
(1 Corinthians 3:11)

And again:

“The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone.” (Psalm 118:22)

Yet modern Churchianity has replaced the Cornerstone with seasonal mascots and cultural nostalgia.

We crowned Santa Claus the patron saint of December.
We enthroned the Easter Bunny as the herald of spring.
We wrapped the birth of Christ in tinsel and sentiment.
We draped His resurrection in pastel eggs and plastic grass.

We did not remove Jesus from the church.
We simply replaced the foundation beneath Him.

We swapped God’s blueprint for a man‑made substitute and convinced ourselves the house was still sound.

But a house built on straw can not endure the wind.

The Straw House and the Big Bad Wolf

Jesus told this story long before the Brothers Grimm imagined three pigs and a wolf. He spoke of two builders. The first builder dug deep and laid his foundation on rock. The second builder built quickly, confidently, and carelessly upon sand.

“The rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.” (Matthew 7:27)

When we replace:

  • God’s feasts with man’s festivals
  • God’s patterns with cultural traditions
  • God’s blueprint with sentimental holidays
  • we are building on sand.

The Illusion That ‘Jesus Fulfilled the Feasts’

One of the most successful deceptions in Churchianity is the claim:

“Jesus fulfilled the feasts, so we don’t need them.”

But the feasts were never about ritual. They were about revelation.

Jesus did not abolish them. He filled them with Himself.

To discard them is to discard:

  • the architecture of redemption
  • the prophetic map of salvation
  • the timeline of the Messiah
  • the continuity of Scripture
  • the foundation God Himself laid

We kept the vocabulary of Jesus while jettisoning the calendar that reveals Him.
We kept the holidays but lost the holy days.
We kept the name of Christ but replaced the Cornerstone with seasonal pageantry.

A Wake‑Up Call, Not a Hammer

This message is not written to condemn. It is written because the enemy is playing for keeps.

The church has been lulled into a coma-induced apathy. It is a soft spiritual slumber where straw feels like stone. Substitutes feel like Scripture. He has convinced us that God’s appointed times are obsolete. Yet, he ensures that Christmas and Easter—those unfulfilled, uncommanded, culturally crafted observances—return every year without question.

It is a masterful illusion.
And the church has swallowed it whole.

But the Lord is sounding a wake‑up alarm.

Not a gentle nudge.
Not a polite reminder.
A trumpet blast.
A watchman’s cry.