Resurrection as Resistance: What the Empire Couldn’t Kill
Post 10 in the Peaceful Resistance Series
Christian Nationalists talk a lot about the cross.
But they almost never talk about the empire that built it.
They don’t want to name the system that used torture and public execution
to crush dissent.
They want Jesus dead.
Not because they hate Him—
but because a living Jesus is harder to control.
A living Jesus forgives enemies.
He heals outsiders.
He rejects power.
He breaks the rules.
He scares them.
So they cling to the cross—
not as a symbol of love,
but as a tool of control.
And they strip the resurrection of its power—
turning it from a revolution
into a reward for obedience.
Resurrection Was Never Meant to Serve the Empire
Rome didn’t just kill Jesus.
They crucified Him.
And crucifixion was more than execution.
It was terror theater.
Public.
Humiliating.
Designed to instill fear and submission.
A billboard of power: “This is what happens when you defy us.”
So when Jesus rose, it wasn’t just a miracle.
It was a direct rebuttal of the empire’s authority.
You can kill the body.
But not the truth.
Not the movement.
Not the spirit.
Resurrection was not about proving God’s wrath.
It was about ending fear.
Because once you’ve faced the worst…
and still rise?
The empire has no more leverage.
From Fear to Flourishing
After the resurrection, Jesus didn’t rally armies.
He didn’t demand revenge.
He didn’t crown new kings.
He broke bread.
He cooked fish.
He wept.
He walked.
He showed his scars.
And when he sent people out into the world,
he didn’t send them to build cathedrals or governments.
He sent them to heal.
But that’s not the resurrection story many of us were taught.
I was taught that I was blessed to be burdened with the cross.
That I had to walk with Jesus up to Calvary and die to myself.
That my suffering was sacred.
That I could become one with Him
by sacrificing my joy, my selfhood, my identity.
There was no room for flourishing.
Only obedience.
Only loss.
Your highest calling wasn’t to live fully—
but to disappear into duty.
But the real resurrection story was never about disappearing.
It was about reappearing—wounded, radiant, alive.
Resurrection wasn’t the end of self.
It was the beginning of shared humanity.
The early followers didn’t conquer.
They lived differently.
They created circles of dignity and justice.
They shared food and care.
They welcomed women, lepers, tax collectors, and outsiders.
They embraced the whole person—not just the suffering.
They practiced a different kind of power:
community instead of coercion,
presence instead of punishment,
flourishing instead of fear.
Why Resurrection Still Terrifies Authoritarians
Empires don’t fear death.
They use it.
They threaten your security, your future, your belonging—
because if you're afraid to lose those things,
you’ll submit to anything.
That’s why resurrection is still terrifying.
Because when you’ve died to fear—
they can no longer control you.
I know, because I lived it.
For years, I disappeared into a marriage where “the two shall become one”
meant I had to vanish.
I was praised for sacrifice.
Encouraged to lose myself.
Taught that holy love meant endurance—
no matter the cost.
But the resurrection came the moment I said,
No more.
The moment I stood up and claimed myself.
The moment I refused to keep suffering for someone else’s comfort.
And that’s when they got scared.
Because I wasn’t asking for permission anymore.
I wasn’t coming back broken, needing rescue.
I was walking away—whole.
And when someone rises like that—
they become a threat to every system
that relies on fear to keep people quiet.
That’s why authoritarians hate real resurrection.
Because a risen person:
Doesn’t need their approval.
Doesn’t buy their lies.
Doesn’t kneel when commanded.
Doesn’t silence themselves to survive.
Resurrection is not passive.
It is defiance with dignity.
A Resurrection of Conscience
We don’t need more doctrine.
We don’t need more fear.
We don’t need another sermon about obedience, sacrifice, or control.
What we need is a resurrection of conscience.
Not just belief in life after death—
but life before death.
A life where you are not defined by what you endure.
Where suffering is not mistaken for holiness.
Where obedience to pain is not the price of love.
We need a resurrection of:
Self-respect in the face of shame.
Moral courage in the face of silence.
Compassion where others weaponize judgment.
Agency where we were told to disappear.
This is not a metaphor.
This is a call.
Rise—not as a reward for dying.
But as a refusal to stay dead.
Let your healing be public.
Let your joy be disobedient.
Let your presence be proof
that the empire didn’t win.
NEXT - What Happens When We Refuse to Obey?
