#resurection

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«La Résurrection» (ou Résurrection du Christ), Carl Heinrich Bloch, 1881

Taking her by the hand he said to her,

“Tal′itha cu′mi”;

which means,

“Little girl, I say to you, arise.”

And immediately the girl got up and walked; for she was twelve years old.

And immediately they were overcome with amazement.

Mk. 5: 41-43

The gospel reading for 5th Sunday in Lent is the account of the raising of Lazarus from the dead (John 11:1-45). In yesterday’s post we considered the debate among Jesus and the disciples about returning to Galilee to attend to the illness of Lazarus. In today’s post we arrive in Bethany and Jesus’ dialogues with the sisters of Lazarus begin. Continue reading Martha, the Sister of Lazarus

Resurrection - a film by Bi Gan

I had a chance to see “Resurrection,” a new film by Chinese director Bi Gan. It premiered at the Venice Film Festival in May 2025, where it won the Prix Spécial Award.

I was intrigued by the trailer (link below), which had some beautiful imagery, but the plot was indecipherable. So I checked its Wikipedia page, which explained that it was a multi-part story related to the “six senses recognized in Buddhist thought: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and mind”.

Okay, I’ll admit I didn’t understand that any better. The only solution was to buy a ticket and see for myself.

The Wiki entry tries to describe the plot, but I don’t think it’s entirely accurate. The description makes it sound more violent than it actually is, and there are comments about the end of scenes that are someone’s interpretation, not what I saw on the screen.

The Wiki entry calls the film sci-fi - but the film felt like fantasy or allegory storytelling.

The first story frames the rest of the film. A woman frees a disfigured creature so she can look into his dreams. It’s told without spoken dialogue, like a modern silent film. It has some lovely scenes using old-style film techniques. The remaining stories are the dreams she sees.

The second story was film noir and more straightforward but also with very artistic imagery. A man is hunted by the police for murder. He’s caught and tortured. The detective becomes obsessed with the suitcase that contains a theremin (an early electric music device). There may have been a guy-guy kiss that went unexplained.

The third story involves a former monk stealing artifacts from an abandoned temple. He meets the personification of Buddha who looks like his father. The fourth story is about a con artist who recruits a young girl to help him con a rich man. The fifth story is set on NYE 1999 with a young man and woman awaiting the dawn of the new century. Each is in a different style. I didn’t realize the NYE story was a long tracking shot until halfway through it.

Did I understand it? No.

Am I glad I saw it? Yes.

Do I recommend it? Unsure. I enjoyed the artistry of the film - telling stories with different techniques. Maybe the best comment I can make is that it held my interest. It’s 2hr36min, and I’m not complaining it was too long.

Although it might be tempting to wait and see “Resurrection” if it shows up on TV, BUT if it’s something you want to see - it feels like something to see on a theater screen not on TV. On a TV screen, you’ll be too tempted to take breaks or watch the various stories on different days. Or worse, give up. So if it perks your interest, find a theater where it’s playing.

Note: At the theater I attended, the movie was shown without any trailers. So I recommend arriving at the stated start.

Here’s the link to the trailer

There are moments when culture shifts, not because of a trend, not because of a headline, but because something rises from deep inside the collective human heart. Something that was waiting, quietly, beneath our noise and distractions — a hunger we didn’t even realize was growing. And every once in a while, a piece of art steps into that hunger with enough weight, enough honesty, enough reverence to force the world to look up again.

Mel Gibson’s upcoming film, The Resurrection of the Christ, is one of those moments.

Not because a movie alone can change the world. Not because Hollywood suddenly found its conscience. Not because society is clamoring for faith-based content.

No — it’s deeper than that.

It’s because the Resurrection itself is the one story humanity never stops reaching for, whether we realize it or not. Hope in the face of despair. Light rising in a world that has grown comfortable with darkness. A Savior who steps out of the tomb not quietly or privately, but in a way that reshapes history forever.

That story has been changing lives for two thousand years. And even now, as anticipation builds for Gibson’s cinematic return to biblical storytelling, you can feel something stirring beneath the surface — in churches, in conversations, in social media threads, in quiet prayers whispered by people desperate for a reminder that God still moves.

This article isn’t about predicting what the movie will show; the film is unreleased, and its scenes remain hidden. Instead, this is about what people hope it will rekindle, what the world is longing for at this very moment, and why the anticipation itself reveals something profound about human nature, spiritual hunger, and the God who refuses to leave us in the dark.

The World Is Ready for a Resurrection Story — Even If It Doesn’t Know It

We live in a generation heavy with cynicism. People don’t trust institutions. Many are walking away from traditional religion, not because they’ve rejected God, but because they’ve rejected the versions of Him they were handed. They feel spiritually homeless — wandering without the language to describe what their hearts still crave.

Yet if you listen closely, the ache is everywhere.

People whisper questions like:

“Is there something beyond this world?” “Is God still here?” “Does hope actually win in the end?” “Is it possible for a life to start over after so much damage?”

These are Resurrection questions.

And what’s fascinating is that the world keeps circling back to them — through movies, books, art, music, even psychology. The secular world uses different language, but the longing remains the same:

People want to know that death doesn’t get the last word. People want to know that defeat isn’t final. People want to know that pain isn’t permanent.

People want a resurrection — even those who don’t realize that’s what they’re waiting for.

So when a high-profile film about the Resurrection approaches, the world pays attention, whether it intends to or not. Because the Resurrection strikes at the root of human fear and human desire. It is the one event that breaks every pattern, every expectation, every rule that life has taught us.

It means endings aren’t endings. It means loss isn’t final. It means death doesn’t own us.

And deep inside, we want this to be true. We ache for it to be true.

That is why anticipation for this film is so intense. The world may not know exactly what it’s waiting for, but it feels the pull. Something in the human spirit recognizes resurrection when it draws near.

The Cultural Weight of Gibson’s Return to Biblical Cinema

Whether one agrees with Mel Gibson or not, his 2004 film The Passion of the Christ reshaped religious cinema forever. It was brutal, unfiltered, emotionally devastating — and it refused to sanitize the cost of grace. The world had never seen the story of Jesus portrayed with that level of rawness or intensity.

That film raised global conversations about faith. It caused tears in theaters. It sent people back to Scripture. It broke box office records. It confronted audiences with the reality of sacrifice.

And now, decades later, Gibson is preparing to tell the next chapter — the event that gives Christianity its power, the moment that transformed the cross from a symbol of failure into the emblem of eternal victory.

A Resurrection story requires a different tone, a different language, a different emotional landscape. The cross is agony. The Resurrection is uprising. The cross is darkness. The Resurrection is thunder. The cross is surrender. The Resurrection is triumph.

Hollywood rarely touches sacred stories with reverence, but Gibson’s previous work demonstrated a willingness to leave entertainment behind and enter the realm of spiritual confrontation. That is why the world is watching.

The anticipation isn’t about celebrity or controversy — it’s about the possibility that this generation may experience, through cinema, a renewed vision of the empty tomb.

And if that happens, faith conversations will ignite again. Casual believers will wrestle with deeper questions. Skeptics will at least peek over the fence. Churches will re-center on the core of the gospel.

A film like this does not need to be perfect to be powerful. It only needs to remind people of what God has already done.

A Story That Cannot Be Contained by a Screen

The Resurrection is not an event you merely watch. It is an event that confronts you. It forces questions no one escapes:

“What do you believe about Jesus?” “What do you believe about your own eternity?” “What do you believe about what’s possible for a broken life?”

The Resurrection is too big for a screen — but sometimes, God uses a screen to awaken someone who’s forgotten who He is.

And that is why the anticipation around this movie matters.

Not because Hollywood will suddenly become Christian. Not because a movie can replace Scripture. Not because the world will convert overnight.

But because people who have been spiritually asleep might feel a stirring. People who walked away might feel a tug. People who assumed God was distant might discover He has been following them the entire time.

If a film can remind the world that the tomb is empty, then it becomes more than entertainment — it becomes a spark.

The Emotional Layer: What People Secretly Hope This Film Will Give Them

Underneath the cultural excitement lies something more personal — something quieter, more vulnerable. People are not just anticipating a movie; they are anticipating a feeling they’ve lost.

They want to feel hope again. They want to feel awe again. They want to feel small in the presence of something enormous and holy. They want to feel that their story isn’t over.

We live in an age of exhaustion. People are tired of pretending to be okay. They’re tired of the weight they carry. They’re tired of holding themselves together by grit and caffeine and half-believed affirmations.

When people hear that a film about the Resurrection is coming, they don’t just think, “Oh, cool — a Bible movie.” Something in them whispers, “Maybe this will remind me why I believe.”

And that whisper is sacred. That whisper is a prayer. That whisper is the sound of a soul waking back up.

Even people who don’t attend church, who don’t read Scripture, who don’t know where they left their faith — even they feel something rise inside when the word “Resurrection” is spoken.

Because resurrection is not just a story. It is a longing. It is a mirror. It is a promise. It is the rumor that your life could still become more than what it has been.

And that is why anticipation matters — the story behind the story is happening in the hearts of the people waiting.

The Devotional Layer: Why the Resurrection Matters for Every Person Reading This

If you strip Christianity down to its bones, everything stands upon one truth:

Jesus did not stay dead.

That is the foundation. That is the scandal. That is the victory. That is the hope.

Without the Resurrection, the cross is simply tragedy. With the Resurrection, the cross becomes triumph. Without the Resurrection, Jesus is a martyr. With the Resurrection, He is the Messiah.

And without the Resurrection, you and I are simply surviving life with no promise of anything beyond it.

The Resurrection is personal. It reaches into your depression. It confronts your grief. It walks into the places in your life where you’ve declared silently, “This part of me will never live again.”

But resurrection means even those places are not safe from God’s power. Not your failures. Not your regrets. Not your wounds. Not your fears.

God resurrects what you have written off. He restores what you buried. He reclaims what you lost. He revives what you let die.

So when the world starts talking about a Resurrection movie, even casually, even skeptically, even jokingly — something holy is happening underneath. People are brushing up against the greatest truth ever spoken:

“He is not here. He has risen.”

This is not nostalgia. This is not religious culture. This is not theological trivia.

This is the truth that splits history in two. This is the truth that saved your life before you were born. This is the truth that hell cannot overturn.

The Resurrection is not ancient history. It is the pulse of the universe. And every person feels its echo, whether they admit it or not.

We Are Living in a Moment Ripe for Awakening

We are standing at an intersection of cultural exhaustion, spiritual hunger, and global uncertainty. People are anxious. People are lonely. People are craving meaning beyond their screens, beyond their achievements, beyond the constant noise of modern life.

And into this moment comes the anticipation of a film that proclaims that death does not win.

Cinema alone won’t heal us. Art alone won’t save us. Emotions alone won’t sustain us.

But sometimes God uses moments like these as catalysts — windows where people become more aware, more receptive, more open to the truth that has never stopped pursuing them.

The Resurrection is not just the ending of Jesus’ earthly ministry — it is the beginning of everything that came alive afterward. And the world is still living in that story, whether it acknowledges it or not.

Just the anticipation of revisiting this story in film is enough to make millions of people pause and reconsider what they believe.

And sometimes, a pause is all God needs.

There is something powerful about a world waiting for a resurrection story, even if it doesn’t recognize the waiting inside itself. The anticipation surrounding this film reveals something deeper than excitement — it reveals that people are starving for meaning again. They are craving transcendence. They are searching for a story big enough to hold their fears, their failures, their fragile hopes, and their hidden wounds. That longing did not come from Hollywood. It did not come from culture. It did not come from curiosity. It came from God Himself, planted in the human soul like a seed that refuses to die. And when something awakens that seed — even through a film announcement — you can feel the shift all around you.

We underestimate how deeply the world needs to hear that Jesus did not stay dead. We take the Resurrection for granted because we’ve heard it a thousand times, but there are people walking around every day who carry questions they don’t know how to speak aloud: Is there forgiveness? Is there restoration? Is there any hope left for someone like me? When news spreads that a Resurrection film is coming, those buried questions begin to move. Walls begin to loosen. Hearts begin to soften. The possibility of something holy begins to rise.

This is why the anticipation itself matters. It is not about predicting scenes or evaluating artistry. It is about watching the temperature of the human spirit rise when the world hears whispers of the empty tomb again. It’s about realizing that even the casual, passing mention of the Resurrection has the power to stir something sleeping in millions of people at once. And if the whisper of resurrection holds that much weight, imagine the impact when the story is retold on a scale that spans nations and languages and generations.

People don’t always know how to articulate spiritual hunger. They don’t say, “I need revival.” They don’t say, “I need forgiveness.” They don’t say, “I need to know God hasn’t given up on me.” Instead, they walk around with quiet desperation, trying to numb their questions with distractions. But the approach of a film like this disrupts the numbness. It interrupts the apathy. It cracks open the silence. And suddenly people who hadn’t thought about Jesus in years begin wondering again — What if the Resurrection is real? What if God is closer than I thought? What if my story isn’t finished?

That is not entertainment. That is awakening.

The Resurrection is the one story no human heart can fully escape. You can run from religion. You can reject tradition. You can resent the church. You can carry wounds inflicted by people who misrepresented God. But the moment you come face-to-face with the idea that Jesus conquered death, something in you shudders — because if the Resurrection is true, then everything else in your life must be reinterpreted in its light. Hope becomes possible. Change becomes possible. Eternal life becomes possible. And the God you thought had abandoned you turns out to have been pursuing you all along.

We live in a generation where people are drowning in anxiety, overwhelmed by uncertainty, and exhausted by their own brokenness. They’re searching for meaning in temporary things that cannot sustain them. And into that world — our world — steps the potential of a cinematic reminder that death has already been defeated. Even anticipation of that reminder carries spiritual weight. It brings people to the edge of their questions. It nudges them closer to the truth they stopped believing could apply to them.

Think about how many hearts feel like tombs right now. Dreams that died. Faith that faded. Relationships that fractured. Second chances that never came.

What would it mean for them to encounter a story where the darkest moment in history did not stay dark? What would it mean for them to see a Savior step out of a grave with scars still visible — not erased, but transformed? People need that vision today more than ever, because resurrection is not just a historical claim. It is an invitation. It reminds us that nothing God touches stays dead. Not hope. Not purpose. Not identity. Not the human soul.

When Gibson’s film arrives, the conversations will not simply be about cinematography or acting or budgets. They will be about meaning. They will be about eternity. They will be about the question no one can escape: What does the Resurrection mean for me? And that might be the most important ripple effect of all. The film may show scenes, but God will reveal hearts. The movie may draw crowds, but God will draw people back to Himself. The story may unfold on a screen, but resurrection will unfold inside the people who realize the empty tomb changes everything.

People hunger for stories where the impossible becomes real. But the Resurrection doesn’t just tell us that the impossible happened once — it tells us that God is still doing the impossible today. It tells us that human failure is not the final author of a human life. It tells us that shame does not have the power to bury someone beyond God’s reach. It tells us that a person can be broken but not finished, wounded but not worthless, fallen but not forsaken. When the world sees that kind of hope portrayed again on a global scale, faith will rise in places where it had been considered dead.

And maybe that’s why anticipation feels so electric. This generation is tired of pretending that despair is normal. They are tired of being told to cope instead of overcome. They are tired of believing the lie that life is limited to what they can see, touch, or measure. When resurrection steps into the conversation, even indirectly, people begin to desire something greater. They begin to wonder if their lives could hold more meaning — not just in theory, but in reality. The Resurrection doesn’t just speak to eternity; it speaks to right now. It speaks to the person sitting alone in their room, unsure if they can keep going. It speaks to the parent praying for their child. It speaks to the addict praying for a breakthrough. It speaks to the believer who still believes but isn’t sure how to feel alive again.

This is why the upcoming film matters. Not because it will fix everything. Not because it will convert the world. Not because it will answer every theological question. It matters because it will make millions of people stop and look again at the moment when death was defeated. It will point humanity back to the foundation of hope. It will remind people that Jesus did not come to create a religion — He came to resurrect humanity. He came to make dead things live. He came to walk into the graves we dug ourselves and call us out by name.

The world may not realize it, but it is starving for resurrection. Every news cycle reveals it. Every cultural conflict exposes it. Every cry for justice, every plea for meaning, every search for self-worth is, in its own way, a longing for life beyond the limits of human strength. The Resurrection is God’s answer to every longing the human soul cannot satisfy on its own. That is why this story always returns. That is why it never fades. That is why the world keeps looking back toward the empty tomb — because everything we need is found in the moment Jesus stood up in death’s face and walked out victorious.

So yes, culture will critique the film. Commentators will argue about it. Some will celebrate it. Others will dismiss it. But beneath all of that noise, something holy will still happen. Hearts will soften. Questions will surface. People will encounter the truth again. And God will do what He has always done — meet people right where they are. The film is not the miracle; the Resurrection is the miracle. But God can use anything — even a movie screen — to call someone back to life.

If anticipation alone can awaken hunger, imagine what will happen when millions of people are confronted with the story of the risen Christ all at once. Not the sanitized, softened version — but the world-altering truth that Jesus defeated death. It will not just be a cinematic moment. It will be a spiritual moment. And spiritual moments create spiritual movement.

This is the story that will outlive every culture, every nation, every generation. The Resurrection is not just the center of Christianity; it is the center of reality. It is the axis upon which hope turns. And the fact that our world is preparing — even unknowingly — to revisit that story again means something profound: God is stirring hearts, preparing souls, and creating space for awakening. And maybe, just maybe, the anticipation you feel is not just about a movie. Maybe it is about something God is doing inside you, too. Because resurrection is not just an event you believe in. It is a life you step into.

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Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

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