Carrying What He First Carried - Living the Resurrection Today

How do we know that the crucifixion of Christ is truly at work in our lives today?

Just days after Easter, as we came to the end of the 55-day Lenten journey we had struggled to endure, this question was placed before us during our Bible study. It invited us to pause—not just to remember the crucifixion, but to consider what it truly means for us now.

Many offered heartfelt reflections:

“We no longer carry the weight of our sins—He bore them on the cross.”

“We are loved.”

“Hope.”

“Grace.”

“The door to the Kingdom of Heaven has been opened.”

“Death is defeated.”

Each response was true. Each revealed something real and deeply rooted in faith. Yet as we shared, it became clear that the question was asking for something more personal—something lived, not just understood.

So how do we recognize that the crucifixion is active within us today?

To begin answering that, we are drawn back to the story of Exodus—to the moment God led His people out of bondage through Moses. It was not only a physical liberation, but a spiritual one. A passage from slavery into freedom. From death into life.

And in many ways, it was a foreshadowing.

Because the same God who delivered His people then is the One who would later offer the ultimate deliverance through Christ. The cross was not an isolated moment in history—it was the fulfillment of a pattern God had been revealing all along. A continuation of His work of redemption.

And if that is true, then the crucifixion is not only something we remember. It is something we are still being led through.

“..Let my people go..” -Exodus 9:1

These four words echo throughout Scripture—and continue to reach into our lives today. When God commanded Pharaoh to release the Israelites from slavery, it was not only for their physical freedom, but so they could worship Him without restraint.

This same theme of liberation carries into the New Testament.

On the cross, Christ offered Himself in a far greater act of deliverance—not from earthly bondage, but from the weight of sin. Through His sacrifice, we are no longer held captive. We are made free—free to worship, free to draw near to God, and invited into the inheritance of His Kingdom.

Yet this bondage did not begin in Egypt.

It began much earlier, in the Garden of Eden—through the disobedience of Adam and Eve. In that moment, a fracture took place. A separation between humanity and God that would carry through every generation. Sin became a weight no one could escape on their own.

And still, God did not leave us there. The cross became the turning point. Through Christ’s sacrifice, what was broken was restored. The burden that once defined us was lifted, and the relationship that had been lost was made whole again. His death was not only atonement—it was an invitation. An invitation to live in His grace, to walk in freedom, and to rediscover the purpose we were created for.

Through Him, we are no longer bound—but led into a life that is being continually transformed.

God’s persistence throughout history reveals a love that does not waver—one that remains constant through every season and circumstance. His compassion and patience meet us again and again, even in our weakness.

We see this in the lives of those who came before us. In Jonah, who resisted yet was still pursued. In Simon Peter, who faltered yet was called, shaped, and transformed—from a simple fisherman into a pillar of the early Church. Their stories are not just accounts of the past; they are reminders of how relentlessly God continues to seek His people.

And yet, His pursuit did not remain distant.

In an act of profound humility, God stepped down from His throne and entered into our world—not in power as we might expect, but in simplicity, as a carpenter. In doing so, He drew near to us, breaking down the barriers that once stood between the divine and humanity.

But He did not stop there.

He also crossed the boundaries we had created among ourselves—reaching the Pharisees and the Galileans, the tax collectors, and those cast aside and forgotten. No one was beyond His reach. No one was excluded from His call. Through Him, what was divided was being brought together.

His mission was not only to save, but to gather—to form one body, one Church, united under the covering of His sacrifice on the cross.

Through His incarnation, Christ did not come merely to dwell among us—He came to draw us into communion with Him. He bound Himself to us through His own body and blood, offering what we could never offer on our own. The cost was far too great for us to bear. Yet He chose to bear it.

Through His sacrifice, the debt of sin was paid—not with something temporary, but with His very life. His blood became both our covering and our healing, and through it, He secured the victory we could never achieve: the defeat of death itself. But this was not a sudden act. It was a promise God had been revealing all along.

Throughout Scripture, we begin to see glimpses—echoes of what was to come. Moments that quietly point toward resurrection and restoration. Jonah, emerging after three days in the depths. Joseph, lifted from confinement into new purpose. Each story carrying a pattern—waiting, surrender, and then life again.

Then, something even greater.

Lazarus, called forth from the grave after four days—a moment that revealed Christ’s authority over death.

All of these moments were leading somewhere - They were pointing to the cross—and beyond it.

Because the crucifixion was never meant to end in death. It was always leading to resurrection. To new life. To a hope that would not fade. Through Him, that promise is no longer distant—it is something we are invited to live in.

These moments in Scripture are not merely accounts of the past—they are living testimonies. They remind us that the resurrection of Christ is not only something we believe in, but something we are invited to experience. Through them, we are reminded of our redemption, and of the presence of His Holy Spirit—guiding, strengthening, and walking with us in our daily lives.

So as we remember the crucifixion of our Lord Jesus Christ, and reflect on the power of His resurrection, we are also reminded of something deeply personal:

We are called to carry the cross ourselves.

Jesus invites us to take up our cross and follow Him—not as a burden without purpose, but as a path that leads us into deeper communion with Him.

“If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.” - Matthew 16:24

But what does that look like?

It is revealed in the choices we make each day.

It is choosing love when it would be easier to turn away. Choosing forgiveness when the wound still lingers. Choosing to give, even when it costs us more than we feel we can bear.

It is remaining steadfast in faith when life feels heavy, and continuing to rise—even when the weight feels overwhelming.

In this, something begins to change. - As we carry our cross, we begin to reflect Him. His image, His light, His grace—made visible.

And perhaps this is how we come to recognize that the crucifixion is still at work in our lives today:

Not only in what Christ has done for us, but in what He continues to do within us.

Through the way we love, the way we endure, and the way we are being transformed into His likeness.

This reflection is inspired by a Bible study led by Rafik Botros.