WHAT MUST COME DOWN BEFORE GOING UP

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

A Resurrection Reality Check for a Farcical Season

The Rhythm of Descent and Ascent

There is a rhythm woven into the Kingdom of God that the world cannot imitate and religion cannot counterfeit. It is the rhythm of holy descent followed by God‑given ascent, the pattern of a God who steps down so that He may raise the humble up. Heaven’s gravity works in reverse. What comes down in God’s hands does not remain down, because the Lord delights in lifting the lowly. Before anything rises in the Kingdom, something must bow. Before anything is exalted, something must kneel. Before anything goes up, something must come down.

This is not punishment but posture. It is the way of Christ, the way of the cross, and the way of every saint who has ever been raised by the power of God.

The Pattern of Humility from the Beginning

Moses came down from the mountain carrying the Word, the covenant, and the revelation of God’s character. “When Moses came down from Mount Sinai… the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” (Exodus 34:29). Yet Israel did not rejoice in what came down. They were too busy worshiping what they had lifted up, a golden calf of their own making. Humanity has always preferred what ascends when we are the ones climbing. We build towers, chase platforms, exalt ourselves, and admire the view from the top.

But God overturns this instinct. The Kingdom begins with going down, not in defeat but in humility, not in shame but in surrender, not in weakness but in obedience.

The Descent of Christ: The Model of All Humility

Jesus did not descend because He was defeated. He descended because He was humble. “Though He was in the form of God, He did not consider equality with God something to cling to, but emptied Himself… He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:6–8). He came down from glory, laid down His rights, bowed down in obedience, and humbled Himself for our sake. His descent was not accidental but intentional. Because He went down in humility, the Father raised Him up in glory. “Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name.” (Philippians 2:9).

This is the law of the Kingdom: what bows low is lifted high.

Paul: Struck Down to Be Raised Up

Paul understood this truth because he lived it. He was the rising star of Judaism, educated, disciplined, respected, and zealous. Yet when Christ appeared, Paul had to be struck down before he could truly see. He fell to the ground, blinded and helpless. “He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?’” (Acts 9:4). Every accomplishment he once boasted in, he now called loss. “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” (Philippians 3:8).

Paul discovered that humility is not the lowest place but the safest place. It is the beginning of resurrection.

The Descent and Ascent of Jesus

Jesus came down from the cross lifeless and wrapped in linen. He went down into the grave sealed and guarded. He went down into the depths, into the territory hell believed it owned. “He also descended into the lower parts of the earth.” (Ephesians 4:9). Every downward step looked like loss, yet in the Kingdom, down is never the destination. It is the doorway.

The same Jesus who descended also rose. He went up the hill, up the mountain of transfiguration, up out of the grave, and up into heaven. “He was taken up, and a cloud received Him out of their sight.” (Acts 1:9). He will one day raise His people with Him. “He raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 2:6).

This is the divine reversal: what comes down in humility must go up in glory.

The Farce of Our Seasonal Jesus

Every year the church calendar reenacts the same tragic cycle. In December, Christ is placed back in the cradle—small, harmless, and sentimental. In spring, He is placed back in the tomb—tragic, noble, and safely contained. Then the props are packed away, the pageantry folded, and life returns to normal.

We reenact His birth, His death, and His burial, but we rarely reenact His reign. We do not enthrone Him, crown Him, or place Him at the center of our will. We keep Christ in the cradle because a baby makes no demands. We keep Christ in the tomb because a dead man issues no commands. But a risen, reigning Christ requires surrender.

We treat the resurrection as a holiday rather than a hierarchy, as a story rather than a sovereign, as a symbol rather than a King. This is why the calendar feels farcical: it keeps Christ rotating through roles He has already outgrown. He is not the baby in the manger, the victim on the cross, or the body in the tomb. He is the Head of the Church, the Lord of Glory, and the One seated far above all rule and authority.

Israel made the same mistake with the ark. They carried the ark on their shoulders, proud of their proximity to God, but they never embraced the God within the ark. They carried Him, but they never let Him carry them. We do the same. We carry Jesus into our holidays, traditions, and services, but we do not let Him carry our will, our obedience, or our lives.

The Real Resurrection Direction

The resurrection does not point down to the cradle, back to the cross, inward to our emotions, or outward to our traditions. The resurrection points up to the enthroned Christ who reigns now. The only way to rise with Him is to bow before Him. “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time.” (1 Peter 5:6).

Humility is not the end of the journey but the beginning of resurrection. It is the doorway into the Kingdom. The proud cannot enter because the doorway is too low. The humble rise because they kneel.

A Call to Yield to the Risen King

Time is growing short, and the hour demands clarity. Christ is not waiting to be rediscovered in a cradle or reburied in a tomb. He is not a seasonal figure to be lifted up for a holiday and set aside when the calendar turns. He is the risen and reigning Lord, seated at the right hand of the Father, calling His people to bow before Him in humility and truth. The path upward begins with the posture downward. The Kingdom does not rise on the strength of the proud but on the surrender of the humble.

The psalmist understood this long before the empty tomb. “My heart is not proud, O Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother.” (Psalm 131:1–2). This is the posture of ascent. This is the doorway into resurrection life. This is the heart God lifts.

Let us therefore lay down our pride, our self‑importance, our insistence on carrying Christ on our shoulders while refusing to let Him carry us. Let us bow low before the One who descended in humility and rose in glory. Let us yield our will to the King who reigns, so that in due time He may lift us up. What comes down must go up, because the One who calls us to kneel is the same One who raises His people to stand with Him in the heavenly places.

Why is the Tent of Meeting Pitched Outside of the Camp?

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WHEN GOD HONORS DISTANCE

There are moments in Scripture when the presence of God withdraws from the center of the people and takes up residence somewhere else. These moments are not random, nor are they mysterious. They are diagnostic. They reveal the spiritual condition of a people who have grown comfortable with distance, casual with holiness, and careless with the very presence that once defined them.

One of the earliest and clearest examples appears in Exodus, when the Tent of Meeting—God’s appointed place of encounter—was moved outside the camp. The people had chosen distance over intimacy, safety over surrender, and mediation over meeting. They told Moses, “Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but let not God speak with us, lest we die.” (Exodus 20:19, KJV) and God honored their request. The Tent was placed beyond the borders of their daily life, a silent testimony that the people preferred a God who stayed at arm’s length.

This is not merely history. It is a pattern. And patterns, once established, repeat themselves across generations.

THE ARK IN PHILISTINE HANDS: WHEN THE HOLY IS TREATED AS COMMON

Generations later, the Ark of the Covenant—the very symbol of God’s presence—found itself not merely outside the camp but in the hands of the Philistines. Israel had carried it into battle as a lucky charm, assuming God would honor their presence even though they had not honored His. They shouted, they celebrated, they presumed, but they did not repent. And God allowed the Ark to be taken.

When the holy is treated as common, God will let it be carried away.

The Philistines, terrified by the plagues that followed, eventually returned the Ark on a new cart pulled by oxen. Israel watched this. They saw it “work.” And because the Word had been neglected for so long, the method of the world became the model for the people of God. The Ark came home on a cart, and no one questioned it. The pattern of the Philistines became the pattern of Israel.

DAVID’S HALFHEARTED ATTEMPT: PASSION WITHOUT CONSECRATION

When David finally rose to the throne, he desired to restore the Ark to its rightful place. His heart was sincere. His passion was real. His intentions were noble. But sincerity is not obedience, and passion is not consecration.

David placed the Ark on a cart—the very method the Philistines had used—and began the journey with music, celebration, and enthusiasm. But enthusiasm cannot sanctify disobedience.

When the oxen stumbled and Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark, he touched what God had declared untouchable. The command had been clear: “They shall not touch any holy thing, lest they die.” (Numbers 4:15, KJV). Uzzah’s reflex was natural, but it was forbidden. His intentions were good, but they were irrelevant. The holy does not bend to human logic.

David was devastated. But the failure was not in God’s severity; it was in Israel’s neglect. The Ark was never meant to ride on a cart. It was meant to rest on consecrated shoulders.

THE NEGLECTED WORD: WHEN KNOWLEDGE IS LOST THROUGH DISUSE

David later confessed the truth: “The Lord our God made a breach upon us, for that we sought him not after the due order.” (1 Chronicles 15:13, KJV). The due order had been written for generations, but no one had practiced it.

The priests had the title but not the consecration. They had the lineage but not the sanctification. They had the garments but not the obedience. The Word had been neglected, and when the Word is neglected, the holy becomes mishandled.

This is the cost of spiritual drift. When the presence is outside the camp, the people stop meeting with God. When they stop meeting with God, they stop hearing His voice. When they stop hearing His voice, they stop obeying His commands. And when they stop obeying His commands, they begin to do what is right in their own eyes.

THE UNCONSECRATED PRIESTHOOD: TITLES WITHOUT SANCTIFICATION

Before the glory of the Lord ever filled the Tabernacle or the Temple, there had to be a consecrated priesthood. God does not pour His presence into unsanctified vessels. He does not rest His glory on common shoulders. He does not entrust holy things to unconsecrated hands.

The priests had to wash, to anoint, to sanctify themselves, to be set apart for the work of the Lord. This cost more than education. It cost more than training. It cost more than a seminary degree. It cost their lives on the altar.

The modern church has forgotten this. We have ministers trained by institutions patterned after the world, credentialed by committees, affirmed by men, but not set apart by God. We have leaders who can preach but cannot carry the presence, who can teach but cannot tremble, who can administrate but cannot intercede.

And congregations suffer for it.

THE DYING CONGREGATION: WHEN THE COMMON TOUCHES THE HOLY

Uzzah was not wicked. He was not rebellious. He was not immoral. He was simply common. And the common cannot carry the holy.

This is why so many congregations today are spiritually numb, spiritually dry, spiritually stagnant. They are being led by people who have never been set apart, who have never sanctified themselves, who have never presented themselves as living sacrifices.

Paul writes, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.” (Romans 12:1, KJV).

Worship is not a mood. It is not a playlist. It is not a warm‑up act. It is a presentation. It is the offering of the self. It is the posture of a priesthood.

Peter echoes this when he writes, “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5, KJV).

Acceptable worship has a posture. It has a cost. It has a consecration.

THE CASUAL WORSHIPER: EXPECTING GOD TO HONOR OUR PRESENCE WHILE WE DO NOT HONOR HIS

We treat worship casually because we have forgotten that worship is an offering. We walk into the sanctuary unprepared, unrepentant, unpresented, and then expect God to honor our presence while we do not honor His.

We come to church with no intention of meeting with the Lord, yet we expect the Lord to meet with us simply because we showed up. We leave the same way we came because we never placed anything on the altar. And if nothing is placed on the altar, nothing can be consumed by fire.

Hebrews declares, “Let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear.” (Hebrews 12:28, KJV).

Reverence is not optional. Awe is not outdated. Holiness is not negotiable. The presence of God is not managed; it is honored.

A CALL TO REPENTANCE: WHEN THE HOUSE OF GOD RETURNS TO THE LORD

If judgment begins anywhere, it begins with us. Peter writes, “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God.” (1 Peter 4:17, KJV).

We have treated worship as routine rather than meeting, approached the sanctuary casually, and expected God to honor our presence while offering Him none of the reverence, surrender, or obedience He requires.

But the Lord has not left us without a remedy. He has given us a path—ancient, tested, and sure—a path that leads from distance to nearness, from judgment to mercy, from drought to rain, from absence to glory. It is the path of repentance.

The Lord spoke it plainly to Solomon after the dedication of the Temple: “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).

For those longing to see the glory return, the roadmap already exists. My devotional From Ichabod to Glory traces this very journey—from the departure of God’s presence to its restoration.

A PRAYER FOR MERCY, CONSECRATION, AND THE RETURN OF HIS PRESENCE

Lord, we come before You not as spectators but as a people in need of cleansing. We humble ourselves beneath Your mighty hand. We confess that we have treated Your presence lightly, approached Your sanctuary casually, and honored You with our lips while our hearts remained far from You.

Forgive us, O Lord.

Restore to us the fear of the Lord. Restore to us the weight of Your Word. Restore to us the reverence that once marked Your people. Cleanse our hands. Purify our hearts. Sanctify our motives. Set apart our lives for Your glory.

We seek Your face, not Your benefits. We seek Your presence, not Your platforms. We seek Your glory, not our comfort.

Hear us from heaven. Forgive our sin. Heal Your church. Let Your presence return to the midst of Your people.

Amen.

Hollow Rabbit Religion

Allen Frederick Leave a comment

The Hollow Rabbit Problem

Easter is the second most important candy‑eating occasion of the year for Americans, who consumed 7 billion pounds of candy in 2001, according to the National Confectioner’s Association.

  • In 2000, Americans spent nearly $1.9 billion on Easter candy, while Halloween sales were nearly $2 billion; Christmas, an estimated $1.4 billion; and Valentine’s Day, just over $1 billion.
  • Ninety million chocolate Easter bunnies are produced each year.
  • Chocolate bunnies should be eaten ears first, according to 76% of Americans. Five percent said bunnies should be eaten feet first, while 4% favored eating the tail first.
  • Adults prefer milk chocolate (65%) to dark chocolate (27%).

They are fanciful, often gold‑wrapped, usually elegantly packaged, full‑color presentations. From all appearances, those chocolate creatures are a delightful treat to eat. On the surface these beauties are elegant and proud. Inside, however, they are an empty hollow shell.

I do not know about you, but I prefer solid chocolate rabbits over the hollow ones. I much prefer to bite into a solid milk chocolate bunny. I have been fooled in the past into purchasing what looked like a solid chocolate rabbit only to get home and find out it was not. One bite is all it took to know I had been deceived. Although it had the appearance of being solid, it did not pass the bite test. Of course, I could have employed the pinch test at the store, but that would have only left a broken bunny on the shelf where once stood a proud whole rabbit.

After Easter, mark‑downs can be found on the broken chocolate rabbits even before the holiday buying season ends. The chocolate still tastes as good as it did when it was in the form of a full standing rabbit, but since it now resembles a pile of chocolate flakes, it lost some of its value. Although the chocolate did not lose any flavor, it was no longer pretty to look at.

Hollow rabbits outsell solid rabbits primarily because of the cost. You can get a gigantic 12‑inch rabbit for about half the price of a much smaller solid one. Children love the fact that they have this huge chocolate rabbit to eat, when in reality the amount of actual chocolate in that 12‑inch rabbit is less than half of the smaller sized version.

Outwardly these proud rabbits stand tall, but apply just a little amount of pressure and they will crumble. There is no real substance to them. They are of little value when faced with just the slightest bit of pressure. By contrast, their solid shelf‑mates can withstand tremendous pressure. Have you ever tried biting the head off a solid rabbit?

Solid or hollow — which do you prefer?

Solid or Hollow Worship

Our church worship could be looked at from the viewpoint of solid or hollow. Are we worshipping with our whole hearts, souls, minds, spirits, and strength, or is it more of an outward show to win favorable ratings from onlookers?

“In the fifth year of King Rehoboam, Shishak king of Egypt attacked Jerusalem. He carried off the treasures of the temple of the Lord and the treasures of the royal palace. He took everything, including the gold shields Solomon had made. So King Rehoboam made bronze shields to replace them and assigned these to the commanders of the guard on duty at the entrance to the royal palace. Whenever the king went to the Lord’s temple, the guards bore the shields, and afterward they returned them to the guardroom.” (2 Chronicles 12:9–11)

The gold was gone. It was replaced with bronze. Although it had an appearance of gold, it wasn’t. Bronze is far cheaper to produce than gold and thus less valuable. Although stripped of all the gold, the king made a show of worship anyway. If anyone came to steal these bronze shields, would they get anything of value when compared to the golden shields that had been there? Are we taking away anything of value from our worship services — any golden nuggets?

“Be careful not to let anyone rob you of this faith through a shallow and misleading philosophy. Such a person follows human traditions and the world’s way of doing things rather than following Christ.” (Colossians 2:8, GW)

All across our land many church houses are filled with bronze where once stood gold. What once was solid biblical preaching has been replaced with hollow messages of self‑improvement. These messengers appear to preach solid biblical counsel, yet their teachings contain no substance. Unable to offer the solid meat of God’s Word, they are left with only hollow arguments to the world’s ills. These solid‑looking brass shields, though golden in appearance, lack the value of pure gold.

It may be milk and it may be chocolate, but is it solid? What is your worship made of? Will it stand up under pressure? What is behind that golden appearance? Is it solid or simply hollow? Can you worship when times are rough? Has the enemy come in and taken all the value out of your salvation experience and left you with just a semblance of true worship?

“But those who are waiting for the Lord will have new strength; they will get wings like eagles: running, they will not be tired, and walking, they will have no weariness.” (Isaiah 40:31, BBE)

NO KINGS: AN EPISTLE FOR A FRACTURED NATION

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Introduction: A Nation at a Crossroads

As the United States approaches its two‑hundred‑and‑fiftieth year, we stand at a moment demanding sober reflection. Nations rarely collapse in a single day; they erode slowly, subtly, and predictably. Scripture gives us a mirror in the Book of Judges—a mirror reflecting not only ancient Israel but the modern American condition. Judges is not a children’s tale; it is a national autopsy. Israel had law, covenant, history, and identity, yet the nation disintegrated because it rejected the One who was meant to be its King.

The refrain that echoes through its pages is both diagnosis and verdict: “In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” [Judges 21:25]. This was not enlightenment but erosion, not progress but decay, not liberation but fragmentation.

The Meaning of “No King”

When Scripture declares that Israel had “no king,” it is not describing a political vacuum but a spiritual rebellion. Israel possessed the Law of Moses, the priesthood, the tabernacle, and the memory of God’s mighty acts. What they lacked was a shared center—a unifying authority, a common truth, a moral anchor. They had law but no loyalty, commandments but no commitment, structure but no submission. Thus the psalmist warns: “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.” [Psalm 127:1].

Judges as a Mirror: Collapse Without a Center

Judges 2 summarizes Israel’s downfall: “They turned quickly from the way in which their fathers walked.” [Judges 2:17]. Their turning was swift and intentional. The result was a cycle of rebellion, oppression, desperation, deliverance, and relapse. The judges God raised up brought temporary relief but no lasting transformation, for the people desired rescue without repentance and deliverance without discipleship.

Micah’s homemade religion in Judges 17–18 reveals the heart of the problem. He did not reject religion; he reinvented it. He fashioned idols, hired his own priest, and declared God’s blessing on his own terms. Scripture summarizes this moment with chilling clarity: “Every man did what was right in his own eyes.” [Judges 17:6]. This is the ancient form of what our culture now calls “my truth,” “my reality,” and “my identity.”

The final chapters of Judges show the inevitable end of such thinking: violence, civil war, and near‑annihilation. When a society loses its shared moral center, justice becomes impossible, violence becomes inevitable, and unity becomes unattainable.

A Fractured Republic: Law Without Lordship

As America approaches its 250th year, we must acknowledge that we are no longer a truly “United” States but a fractured one. We possess a supreme law in the Constitution, a Supreme Court, a legislature, and an executive branch. Yet without a shared moral center, even the strongest institutions fracture. We are witnessing the modern expression of Judges: competing truths, competing realities, competing identities, and competing moralities.

The Constitution was never intended to be a self‑sustaining moral engine. It was built upon the assumption that the people themselves possessed a common understanding of right and wrong. John Adams warned that it was made “only for a moral and religious people,” and Scripture affirms the same truth: “Righteousness exalts a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.” [Proverbs 14:34].

But today we possess law without loyalty, rights without righteousness, freedom without foundation, and unity without a unifying truth. This is the modern expression of the ancient refrain: “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” [Judges 21:25]. When truth becomes subjective, law becomes negotiable. When morality becomes personal, justice becomes impossible. When identity becomes tribal, unity becomes unattainable.

Scripture warns: “If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?” [Psalm 11:3]. A republic without a shared center cannot remain a republic for long.

A People Who Expect Judges to Do Their Righteousness

There is a tragic irony in our present moment: we have become a people who look to judges to do what we ourselves refuse to do. We demand that courts “judge rightly” while we neglect the weightier matters of the law in our own daily lives. We expect the judiciary to act justly while we abandon justice in our dealings with our neighbors.

Yet Scripture does not assign righteousness to the courts; it assigns it to the people of God. The prophet declares: “He has shown you, O man, what is good… to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” [Micah 6:8]. Jesus rebuked the Pharisees for the same hypocrisy: “You neglect the weightier matters of the law: justice, mercy, and faithfulness.” [Matthew 23:23]. Isaiah warned a nation seeking legal remedies while refusing moral repentance: “Your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean.” [Isaiah 1:15–16].

John Adams understood this biblical truth: a righteous people do not need to be governed by an army of judges, for righteousness governs them from within. But an unruly people—a people who reject the King—will always become a mob, and mobs cannot sustain a republic.

Christ the Cornerstone

The answer to Israel’s chaos was not merely the arrival of a human king but the restoration of divine kingship. The psalmist declares: “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.” [Psalm 33:12]. And the call of 2 Chronicles is not addressed to the world but to the people of God: “If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves and pray…” [2 Chronicles 7:14].

Jesus Christ is not merely a king; He is the King. He is the Chief Cornerstone [Ephesians 2:20], the Rock [1 Corinthians 10:4], the Foundation that cannot be shaken [Hebrews 12:28], and the King of kings and Lord of lords [Revelation 19:16]. Nations tremble, empires fall, republics rise and collapse, but those who build upon the Rock will stand.

Our Lord declared: “Whoever hears these sayings of Mine and does them is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.” [Matthew 7:24]. When the storms come—and they will—the house built upon the Rock will not fall.

Conclusion: Return to the King

Judges is not ancient history; it is a prophetic warning. A society without a King—without a shared center of truth—does not rise into progress; it collapses into Judges. But a people whose King is the King of kings and Lord of lords can stand firm even when the nations tremble.

Let us return to the King. Let us build upon the Rock. Let us stand upon the unshakable foundation of God’s Word, for those who trust in Him will never be moved.

Grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus Christ, the only true King, the Cornerstone who holds all things together. Amen

Seeking the Living Among the Dead

Allen Frederick Leave a comment
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.”