Everything Changed Forever
Matthew 27:54 NASB
“So when the centurion and those with him, who were guarding Jesus, saw the earthquake and the things that had happened, they feared greatly, saying, ‘Truly this was the Son of God!’”
I love reading Matthew’s account of Good Friday.
Jesus gives up His last breath.
The veil tears in two—not a thin curtain, but one nearly 60 feet high, 30 feet wide, and inches thick, intricately woven. Torn from top to bottom.
The earth quakes. Rocks split open.
Graves are opened, and saints walk out of them.
What happened at Calvary was not quiet. It was cosmic!
It sent shockwaves through heaven and earth. It’s no wonder even those standing there—a hardened Roman centurion and his men—feared greatly and confessed, “Truly this was the Son of God.”
And Easter solidifies all of it.
As the Apostle Paul writes, our faith hinges on this event:
1 Corinthians 15:14
“If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain.”1 Corinthians 15:17
“If Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins.”
Everything rests on the resurrection.
These events changed everything—forever.
But Paul wrote that to confirm, especially in doubting minds, that Jesus did indeed raise from the dead. Today, we are minded: Jesus is alive.
But I get it, for so many, this is hard to believe. Dare I say it, even impossible. The late Tim Keller argues that unless Jesus reveals it to us, we would be unable to believe as well. Belief, then, is a gift from God. We need God to believe in Him.
And that’s exactly what we see in John 20.
Mary Magdalene, Peter, and John are not standing at the empty tomb full of confidence. They’re confused. Grieving. Trying to make sense of what they’re seeing. Peter examines the details, searching for an explanation. Mary assumes the worst—that someone has taken Jesus’ body. None of them have a category for resurrection.
And neither do we, naturally.
Here’s the thing, we tend to put Jesus into manageable categories. We reshape Him into something more comfortable, more explainable, more within our control. But Easter confronts that instinct. Jesus doesn’t stay in the box we put Him in. He walks out of it. Alive. Uncontained. Unmanageable. As King.
I love what Pastors Benji Horning + Caitlin Barnes write:
“Easter announces that darkness, sin, and death no longer have the final word—God's Kingdom has invaded the present, and nothing will ever be the same.”
Easter reminds us that Jesus will not remain in boxes. He will not be controlled. He is King and He is moving. He is working with those that give their lives to Him to recreate, in His words, Heaven on earth. He is advancing His Kingdom and we are being invited to join Him.
But even more than that, He invites us into a new kind of life.
We are brought into the family of God not only to one day experience resurrection ourselves, but to live a resurrected life now.
Yes, there is still a battle—but we are not fighting for victory. We are fighting from victory. This is the reality we live from post resurrection: The power of sin has been broken. The enemy is not absent, but he is defeated. It means the life of a Christian is not marked by fear of losing, but by confidence in what Christ has already won.
But Easter is not only cosmic—it’s deeply personal.
In John 20, Mary stands outside the tomb, weeping, still unable to see what’s right in front of her. Jesus is alive, standing near her, and she doesn’t recognize Him. Not until He says her name: “Mary.” And in that moment, everything changes. The resurrection becomes more than an event to analyze—it becomes a reality she encounters. Personal. Direct. Transforming.
This is how Jesus still meets us. Not always by answering every question immediately, but by calling us personally. By drawing near. By making Himself known.
But Easter invites a deep question: Are you willing to come and see? Are you willing to ask, honestly, “Jesus, would you make yourself known to me?”
Because the same voice that called Mary by name is still speaking.
And if the resurrection is true—if God’s Kingdom really has broken into the present—then nothing will ever be the same.
Not the world.
Not your story.
Not you.
And like Mary, we are invited into that same calling—to go and tell that Jesus is alive.
Who will you tell?
