As Easter approached, passages about Jesus’ resurrection naturally came to mind when I was preparing my sermon—the miracles of the empty tomb, the proclamation of the angel, the surprise of the women, and many other scenes. Yet as I quieted myself to reflect on the theme of resurrection, I was moved by a deeper realization: Christ’s resurrection should not be merely remembered as a historic event, but should be a living reality today.

Photo by Cagatay Orhan on Unsplash

What does Jesus’ resurrection truly mean for our life? How can the promise of rising from the dead become something tangible in our ordinary daily lives?

With these questions in mind, my attention shifted from the passages of Jesus’ resurrection to the lives of biblical figures, seeking to understand their death and resurrection. It was in this reflection that I was drawn to the story of Elijah—the prophet who once called down fire from heaven. His life journey gave me an answer. From the glory of Mount Carmel, the despair of the wilderness, and finally to the renewal at Horeb, this path is a picture of resurrection in an individual life.

Resurrection did not happen only on that Easter morning near Jerusalem; it continues to take place in every spiritual awakening.

In Elijah’s time, Israel was going through a spiritual winter. King Ahab and Queen Jezebel introduced the worship of Baal into Israel, placing the spiritual foundation of the nation in grave danger. It was under this context that Elijah stood on Mount Carmel and challenged the people: “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if Baal is god, follow him.” (1 Kings 18:21)

That day, Mount Carmel became the witness to a battle between true faith and false worship. From morning until noon, the prophets of Baal cried out and cut themselves with knives, yet there was no answer. But Elijah’s simple prayer brought down fire from heaven, consuming not only the sacrifice but also the doubts of the people. They fell facedown and confessed that the Lord is the God (1 Kings 18:20-40).

This was the peak of Elijah’s ministry. The prophet not only led people back to God, but also ordered the execution of the prophets of Baal. Afterward, his prayer brought the long-awaited rain, ending the drought that had lasted three and a half years.

1 Kings 18:46 records, “The hand of the Lord was on Elijah; and he girded up his loins, and ran ahead of Ahab all the way to Jezebel.” What glory! What power! Mount Carmel became the mountain of victory, the place where the glory of God was revealed.

Yet when Queen Jezebel heard that the prophets of Baal had been killed, she sent message threatening Elijah’s life. In that moment, the prophet who had stood fearlessly on Mount Carmel was suddently overwhelmed by fear. He did not return to God in prayer, nor did he trust that the same God who had sent down fire from heaven and ended the drought could also preserve his life. Instead, he fled alone and collapsed beneath a broom tree, praying that he might die.

I used to struggle with this passage, as I could not understand why Elijah, who had just witnessed God’s almight power on Mount Carmel and had stood fearlessly before the 450 prophets of Baal, would flee in panic due to Jezebel’s threat.

Later, through years of serving the church, I gradually came to understand the tension and the answer: outward miracles and victories do not automatically become inner strength.

On Mount Carmel, Elijah was God’s prophet, standing in God’s clear will and carrying God’s authority. But when the threat came, he suddently became an ordinary person, who could feel fear, loneliness, and weakness. Instead of saying “God said so”, he cried “I alone am left”.

From being “God’s servant” to becoming “the lonely self”, are we not often the same? In ministry, we stand firm by God’s calling and commission; yet when we return to our personal lives—facing family burdens, the pressures of daily life, or the indifference of coworkers—we may also, like Elijah, suddently feel lost and even want to run away.

Yet God’s grace is never absent in our despair. While Elijah slept beneath the broom tree, an angel came to him twice, bringing bread and water and telling him: “Get up and eat; for the journey is too much for you” (1 Kings 19:7).

Sustained by this miraculous provision, Elijah travelled forty days and forty nights until he came to Horeb. What seemed like a simple provision became the only and sufficient support for his journey toward Horeb, toward his spiritual resurrection.

This passage brings me great comfort. God did not raise Elijah out of despair immediately, but gave him a process. The forty-day journey became the distance between despair and hope, between death and resurrection. The despair of the wilderness was not God’s abandonment, but a necessary refining on the spiritual journey.

Therefore, we should not view our circumstances merely through human eyes, but learn to return to God’s will. When we do so, we begin to discover that life is filled with hope and that in every moment, we are people living with renewed hope.

In human eyes, Jesus on the cross appears to be a failure, as the Lord seemed to be humiliated and rejected. Yet in God’s plan, that very moment was the prelude to the climax of redemption and the foreshadowing of resurrection.

Elijah’s wilderness was his own “cross moment” in spiritual life. The ambition and pride of the old self were gradually broken down along that lonely road. He thought he was on the way to failure, but God led him into a deeper victory. He thought he was abandoned by God, but God was quietly preparing him to hear “a gentle whisper” (1 Kings 19:12).

Therefore, when we find ourselves in our own “wilderness”, feeling powerless and hopeless about our future, we may remember Elijah and the Lord on the cross. In what seems to us like a dead end, God may already be quietly preparing a resurrection road that leads us to Horeb.

After forty day and forty nights of travel, Elijah finally arrived at Horeb. The name of the mountain, often understood as “desolation”, seemed to reflect the condition of his soul. Yet it was in this place of desolation that God chose to reveal the divine presence to Elijah.

In the cave, Elijah encountered a great storm, an earthquake, and a fire, but did not hear God, until “a gentle whisper” came. It was the gentle whisper that revived Elijah’s dying faith and allowed him to understand that God’s presence is not only in earth-shaking miracles, but also in quiet guidance. The path to spiritual victory is not dependent on fleshly strength, but through a complete trust on God and faithful obedience to the end.

At Horeb, Elijah buried pride, self-reliance, and despair of his old self, and began to live a life renewed by God. This is the true meaning of Easter. Jesus’ resurrection opens for us a way to new life. When we die and rise with Christ, the old life passes away and a new life begins.

Our faith often encounters its own “flight after Carmel”, making us feel that our faith had died. But just as Elijah encountered God again at Horeb, Jesus’ resurrection reminds us that no hardship can separate us from God’s love, and no weakness can cause God to abandon us.

Therefore, What Jesus ’resurrection teaches me is not to remember a distant miracle, but to believe that God can bring new life in every moment when faith seems to die. Just as Elijah rose again in despair and continued to fullfil his calling, we too can rely on God in our weakness and reignited our fading faith.

God does not leave us in the valley of death forever. In God’s own way, God awakens us, gives us strength to move forward, and enables us to experience resurrection again and again on the journey of faith.

May this Easter we be like Elijah—hearing God’s gentle vocie when there seems to be no way forward and experiencing the renewal of faith. For as Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.” (John 11:25) The hope of new life is the firmest foundation of our faith.

Author: Guo Qingqing

Translator: Bei Feng