Faith in Focus #24
A reflection from Connection Church and other spiritual events from the week
Faith in Focus is a weekly reflection on what God has been teaching me throughout the week regarding my faith. Whether it’s personal interactions, reading, or the Sunday sermon, God speaks through it all, and I hope this helps you focus on His mission.
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Sermon Reflection
Built or Broken: The Resurrection as Our Foundation
In 1 Corinthians 15:12–34, Paul confronts a dangerous idea with eternal consequences: if the resurrection is not real, neither is our hope. But if it is, everything changes.
Based on the sermon by Jonathan Land, Connection Church Sioux Falls, April 19, 2026.
It began with something almost disarming.
Before opening the text, Jonathan took a moment to share his fascination with construction. Massive buildings. Towering structures. The kind of projects that demand precision, patience, and a foundation that can bear the weight over time. There was humor in it too, a childlike joy in cranes and trucks and the process of building something from nothing.
But then came the truth.
Because every structure, no matter how impressive, carries an unavoidable ending. If the foundation fails, the entire thing collapses.
That is where the analogy sharpened. A Jenga tower, piece by piece, can stand tall. But remove the wrong block, and everything falls in an instant. What once seemed stable reveals itself to be fragile.
Paul is making the same argument in 1 Corinthians 15:12–34. Only the stakes are infinitely higher.
Remove the resurrection, and the entire Christian faith collapses.
The World Behind the Text
The church in Corinth was not lacking in passion. They were active, gifted, and engaged. But they were also confused, shaped by a culture that struggled to believe in bodily resurrection.
In the Greco-Roman world, many believed the physical body was a limitation, something to escape rather than something to be restored. Spiritual existence was desirable. Physical resurrection was not.
So when some in Corinth began to question whether believers would be raised from the dead, it may have seemed like a minor theological adjustment.
Paul treats it as a catastrophic error.
Because this is not a side issue. It is the issue.
In 1 Corinthians 15:12, Paul writes that some are saying there is no resurrection of the dead. What follows is not gentle correction but a logical dismantling. He pulls on that one loose block and shows the Corinthians exactly what falls when it is removed.
Walking the Passage
Paul’s argument is relentless.
If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised (1 Corinthians 15:13). And if Christ has not been raised, then preaching and faith are in vain (1 Corinthians 15:14).
It gets worse.
If Christ has not been raised, the apostles are misrepresenting God (1 Corinthians 15:15). Faith is futile. Sin still holds its power. The dead are lost forever (1 Corinthians 15:17–18). And perhaps most strikingly, Christians are to be pitied above all people (1 Corinthians 15:19).
Paul is not softening the implications. He is pressing them into the church. No resurrection means no Gospel.
At the center of this passage is one of the most sobering statements in Scripture: if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins (1 Corinthians 15:17).
That word futile commands attention. It means empty, ineffective, powerless. A faith that cannot save. A belief system that cannot deliver what it promises. Without the resurrection, sin is not defeated. Death is not conquered. Hope is not secured.
But Paul does not leave the church there. He pivots with one of the most important declarations in the New Testament.
But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep (1 Corinthians 15:20).
This is not wishful thinking. It is not metaphor. It is a claim rooted in history and witnessed reality. And Paul reaches back into imagery the Corinthians would understand.
Firstfruits.
In the agricultural world, the firstfruits were not the full harvest. They were the beginning of it. The first portion that guaranteed more was coming. They were a sign, not just of what HAD happened, but of what WOULD happen.
Christ’s resurrection is not an isolated event. It is the beginning of something that includes all who belong to him.
Paul then traces the story back even further. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead (1 Corinthians 15:21).
In Adam, all die.
In Christ, all shall be made alive (1 Corinthians 15:22).
This is the language of representation. Adam stands as the head of humanity in sin. Christ stands as the head of a new humanity in life.
Where Adam failed, Christ succeeds. Where Adam brought death, Christ brings life.
This is why the resurrection matters so deeply. It is not just proof that Jesus rose. It is proof that his work was sufficient. That sin was truly dealt with. That death no longer has the final word.
Paul continues by pointing to the ultimate end. Christ reigns until every enemy is defeated, and the last enemy to be destroyed is death (1 Corinthians 15:25–26).
The resurrection is not just about the past. It is about the future. It is about where history is headed.
Then Paul brings the argument into everyday life.
Why would anyone endure suffering, danger, or even death for something that is not true (1 Corinthians 15:30–31)?
If the dead are not raised, then the most logical conclusion is simple: let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die (1 Corinthians 15:32).
In other words, if there is no resurrection, then nothing ultimately matters.
But Paul refuses that conclusion. Instead, he warns the church not to be deceived and calls them back to sober thinking and righteous living (1 Corinthians 15:33–34).
Belief shapes behavior.
And what we believe about the resurrection will shape everything.
A Fair Counter-Reading
Some have argued that Paul is speaking symbolically. That resurrection is not about physical bodies but about spiritual renewal or the continuation of Jesus’ influence.
There is a surface-level appeal to this. It aligns with cultural instincts that are more comfortable with metaphor than miracle. But it does not hold up under the gravity of the text.
Paul’s entire argument collapses if the resurrection is not real AND physical. His logic depends on a historical event. If Christ has not actually been raised, then everything he says about faith being futile still stands.
A symbolic resurrection cannot defeat real death. A metaphor cannot conquer the grave.
Paul is not offering inspiration. He is making a claim about reality.
The Turn
The Jenga tower is helpful because it exposes how we often think about faith. We treat doctrines like interchangeable pieces. Remove one, adjust another, and the structure still stands.
Paul disagrees.
The resurrection is not one piece among many. It is the foundation beneath all of them. Remove it, and nothing remains. But if it is true, then everything holds.
This is where the passage becomes deeply personal.
Because the resurrection is not just a theological idea to agree with. It is a reality to build your life upon.
If Christ is raised, then your sin is not the end of your story.
If Christ is raised, then death is not the final word over your life or the lives of those you love.
If Christ is raised, then your suffering is not meaningless.
If Christ is raised, then what you do with your life matters eternally.
The difference between despair and hope is not found in changing circumstances. It is found in whether the resurrection is true.
And Paul insists that it is.
Song of the Week: Testimony - Terrian
Terrian’s song “Testimony” lands with a kind of quiet force. Less about spectacle and more about recognition. It’s the kind of track that doesn’t just ask to be heard; it asks to be reflected in. For me, that reflection feels deeply personal, but its reach extends far beyond any one story. Its message is broad enough to meet listeners wherever they are in their walk of faith.
At its core, “Testimony” operates as a reminder of something easy to forget in the middle of ordinary life or difficult seasons: when God feels distant, the evidence of His work is often closest at hand. Not in grand displays, but in the steady transformation of a life over time. The song’s structure mirrors this idea. One moment it points inward toward personal change and growth, and the next it lifts the focus outward, toward the character of God and the scope of His work. In doing so, it bridges the gap between biblical history and present-day experience, suggesting that the miraculous is not confined to scripture alone.
That tension between what has been written and what is still unfolding sits at the heart of the song. Scripture is filled with accounts of God moving in powerful ways, but “Testimony” gently insists that those stories didn’t end there. They continue, quietly, in the lives of believers. In that sense, the song gives a different perspective of identity: not just as observers of faith, but as participants in it.
There’s also an honesty woven into the message. Faith, as the song acknowledges, is not insulated from hardship. Suffering, doubt, and opposition remain part of the experience. Yet even here, the narrative doesn’t stall. Instead, it echoes a familiar biblical theme that what is meant for harm can be repurposed for good. It’s a perspective that doesn’t erase pain but places it within a larger story. “Oh, the enemy did what he could, but the Lord he has used it for good.”
Another lyric also stands out: the idea that hope doesn’t run dry when it is rooted in God, “I never run out of hope when I run to the God of miracles.” It’s a simple line, but it carries significance, especially in moments when hope feels most fragile. It reinforces the song’s central claim that a life shaped by faith becomes, in itself, evidence. Not perfect, not without struggle, but undeniably changed.
Whether someone is at the beginning of their faith journey or years into it, “Testimony” offers a steady reminder that the story isn’t finished. And more importantly, it’s not just something to read about but it’s something being lived.
Carry It Into the Week
There is a quiet temptation to treat the resurrection as something reserved for Easter. Something to celebrate once a year and then move past.
Paul will not allow that.
The resurrection is not an event to visit. It is a foundation to live on. It shapes how you view your sin. Not as something you must carry alone, but as something already dealt with through Christ’s finished work.
It shapes how you endure suffering. Not as pointless pain, but as something held within a larger story that ends in restoration.
It shapes how you live. With purpose, urgency, and hope.
And it shapes how you face death. Not with denial, but with confidence that it has been defeated.
So the question becomes simple, even if it is not easy.
What are you building your life on?
Because every foundation will eventually be tested.
And only one will stand.
Week in Reflection
Six months ago, I hesitated before publishing the first of these faith-centered reflections as I was unsure of the reception, uncertain of the consistency, but compelled to begin. Now, six months later, that initial step has grown into something steady and meaningful. Whether these words have reached a wide audience or quietly passed by remains unseen, but their impact on my own walk with God is undeniable. Each post has served as both reflection and accountability, deepening my understanding of my own faith week by week. And as that milestone settles in, there’s a growing anticipation for what God might continue to build from here.
This past week unfolded at a relentless pace, marking one of the busiest stretches in recent memory. Six photography contracts in seven days, paired with more than 18 hours on the road, turned a side pursuit into something that felt closer to a calling. The opportunities in front of me, doors that once seemed firmly closed, have opened in ways I can’t fully explain. The work behind the lens continues to feel like a gift, one I’m still learning how to steward well. My hope remains simple: that every image captured, every story told, ultimately points back to God. There’s also a growing desire to step further into spaces centered around Christian artists, to document moments that align more deeply with both my craft and my faith.
Yet, even in a week defined by professional momentum, the most meaningful moments came off the clock. An eight-hour round trip, shared meals, and time in a hotel offered something far more significant than another completed assignment and it created space for connection with my older brother in a way we rarely get to experience. It was, in many ways, the most intentional one-on-one time we’ve ever had.
Faith, for him, remains unsettled territory. We share the same foundation, the same upbringing, but his path has taken a different direction. From where I stand, it feels like he knows the truth of who Jesus is, yet continues to wrestle with fully stepping into that reality. That tension is difficult to witness. There’s a deep desire in me to see him come to the same clarity and conviction I’ve found but I’m learning that faith journeys don’t unfold on identical timelines.
What I can do is show grace, remain present, and trust that God is working in ways I cannot see. If nothing else, I hope the time we spent together planted something small but lasting. A seed that, in time, might grow and bloom. For now, that’s enough to hold onto: the belief that God meets each of us where we are, and that no moment of connection is ever wasted.
And remember, God loves you, and so do I.
Connection Church in Sioux Falls is a gospel-centered community committed to helping people follow Jesus through authentic relationships, biblical teaching, and everyday mission. Rooted in historic Christian belief and aligned with gospel renewal movements, the church exists to see lives transformed by Jesus. Learn more: https://siouxfallsconnection.com/who-we-are







