On April 16, 2007, Cho Seung-Hui opened fire on the campus of Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia, killing 32 people before taking his own life, and the questions rage. Will cold-blooded school shootings ever stop? Are schools safe for our children? How do I know the next murderous rampage won't happen in my school or my child's school?

Senseless shedding of blood doesn't stop at the occasional outbursts in the American academy. We all are too intimately aware of global violence and the fear of bloodshed that soaks our world. More than 3,300 American soldiers have died in Iraq, and untold thousands of Iraqi military and civilians have lost their lives. The genocide in places such as Darfur bears witness to the surprisingly widespread ability of humans to decimate each other.

While the Virginia Tech shooting doesn't compare with the scale and intensity of what's happening in those parts of the world, it shares a common DNA. It instills a fear of the unknown, an X factor that I never know when something might dramatically change — or take — my life. It's a reality no one can escape: We will all die, and many of us sooner than we expect. And in this post-9/11 world, uncertainty and fear escalate.

Nonetheless, we plan for the future, for our successes and dreams. We believe that the odds are in our favor and that "it won't happen to me." All the while our life hangs by a gossamer thread.

I recently walked through a cemetery in downtown York, Pennsylvania. One tombstone told of an important man of his time — a signer of the Declaration of Independence. His name was James Smith. You don't remember him from history class? Perhaps you do, but most of us don't. Then consider the many unknown people dying every day in the U.S., Iraq, or China. We humans don't last long. Soon enough, I'll be asking Smith to move over and make room for one more.

So what's the point? My pending death on an earth ever thirstier for blood and my inevitable anonymity leave a rotting taste in my mouth. Why press on against such bleak odds?

Some say pleasure or fame are worth it — or maybe that elusive American Dream. But these only last for a short time and can be snuffed out at any moment (think about the 1929 stock market crash and the ensuing nationwide Depression). And all the while, who's to say a suicide bomber won't hit your town or cancer won't suddenly invade your body, turning your world upside down?

The brevity and insignificance of the average human life is sobering, but it serves a precious purpose: To never let us get too comfortable on this earth.

I've heard people say, "Come to Jesus, and He'll solve all your problems." But that's a misreading of the gospel. Jesus never promised a life free of pain. He never guaranteed we'll have nothing to fear in this world. In fact, He modeled a life filled with opposition, was betrayed by one of his closest friends, and died a severe, unjust death while He was still relatively young. But He demonstrated that we can live through such pain, and even face fear and death, for one major reason: Hope.

What we need is not the eradication of fear — we will always have murderers on this unsanctified earth. What we need is a long-term solution to fear and meaninglessness, and hope is the central Christian concept that gives us a framework for living on this uncertain globe. When we truly grasp our hope, we find true freedom for living in a world saturated with malice, bloodshed, and futility.

It all starts with the resurrection. If we want to have hope beyond this world, we must believe there is something beyond this world — and not just anything, but something good. Through the resurrection, Christ gives us a hope that transforms the way we view everything in life, from the boring daily grind at work to the fear of imminent death by a crazed madman. The resurrection is where true power lies. It gives us a reason to live when life seems meaningless, a hope to face death at any moment, and an eternal perspective for making choices each day.

Paul makes it his goal, he says to the Philippian church, to "know [Christ] and the power of his resurrection, and [to] share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death," not merely to join in death, but "that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead" (Phil 3:10-11).¹ Our hope and power lies in the unique act of God breathing life into Jesus' dead body, and in the belief that God will do the same for those who trust in Christ.

Really, the resurrection makes all the difference in our approach to an uncertain world. If the resurrection didn't happen, then we have nothing to hope for as Christians — no matter how hard we believe (1 Cor. 15:12-14). Paul says the resurrection is so central that "if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins" and "we are of all people most to be pitied" (1 Cor. 15:17-19).

But we have hope because Christ rose from the dead. Elsewhere Paul explains the significance of the resurrection for our lives in this world: We were not only buried with Christ in his death, but "raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead," and thus God makes us alive together with Him (Col 2:12-13).

The apostle then points out the implication: "If then you have been raised with Christ," that is, if the resurrection is true for Christ and for those who trust in Him, we are called to see life through a resurrection perspective: "Seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on things that are on earth" (Col 3:1-2). Why? Because that's where our true hope lies, with the resurrected Jesus (vv. 3-4).

Hope in Christ's resurrection is hope that, no matter what happens to us in this world, we will rise from the dead through Him and share eternally in a new world free from the fear and uncertainty this world generates.

Jonathan Edwards describes that other world in his sermon, "Heaven Is a World of Love." In that world, Christians

"shall know that God and Christ will be forever, and that their love will be continued and be fully manifested forever, and that all their beloved fellow saints shall live forever in glory with the same love in their hearts. And they shall know that they themselves shall ever live to love God, and love the saints, and enjoy their love. They shall be in no fear of any end of this happiness.... All things shall flourish there in an eternal youth. Age will not diminish anyone's beauty or vigor, and there love shall flourish in everyone's breast, as a living spring perpetually springing, or as a flame which never decays."²

Hope of a physical life beyond this world, in a world surged with the eternal love of God that will never end — that hope gives us a reason to live today, a central focus to resist worldly distraction, and the forbearance to face anything on earth.

When I walk through a cemetery, I see my life as a vapor, and I thank God for the breath He's given me in this world. But I don't stop there. I thank Him more for the breath He'll breathe into my dead body so it will never rot again.

Resurrection hope gave early martyrs the steadiness to confess Christ when the sword hovered over their head. It is this hope that strengthens us to be instruments in God's kingdom, for however long or short a time He gives. It overcomes any fear, even the fear of a Cho Seung-Hui at your school.

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NOTES

1. All Scripture quotations from the English Standard Version (ESV).
2. Jonathan Edwards, The Sermons of Jonathan Edwards: A Reader, ed. Wilson H. Kimnach, Kenneth P. Minkema, and Douglas A. Sweeney (New Haven: Yale, 1999), 257-258. Emphasis added.