Practicing Resurrection: Learning to Trust the Spirit Within

An Expansionist Podcast Reflection by Heather Drake

There are seasons when the world feels heavy. Everywhere we turn we encounter grief, division, uncertainty, and stories that seem to whisper that death has the final word. Yet the story of Jesus has always dared to proclaim something different. Resurrection is not simply an event we celebrate once a year. It is a way of living. It is an invitation.

During this conversation on the Expansionist Podcast, I found myself returning again and again to one question: What does it mean to practice resurrection?

For many of us, resurrection has been presented as something to observe—a miraculous moment in history that proves who Jesus is. But what if resurrection is also something we embody? What if the invitation of Easter is not simply to admire the empty tomb, but to participate in the work of bringing life wherever death has taken hold?

Jesus' words to Mary Magdalene continue to echo in my imagination: Go and tell. She wasn't invited to stand at the tomb forever. She was commissioned to become a witness to new life.

Perhaps that is our calling too.

Resurrection Begins in the Ruins

The places where resurrection begins are rarely neat or predictable.

Sometimes resurrection begins after everything we thought was certain falls apart. Sometimes it arrives when long-held beliefs are challenged or when we realize that the ways we've understood God have unintentionally excluded others. Sometimes resurrection asks us to kneel in the middle of our own ruins and whisper the prayer Jesus prayed in the garden: "Not my will, but yours." That surrender is rarely comfortable.

Yet resurrection has never been about preserving what is familiar. It has always been about allowing Spirit to breathe new life into what seemed beyond hope.

The Spirit is Still Making All Things New

One of the most beautiful promises Jesus gave to his followers was not certainty, it was the promise of the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit does not simply comfort us after difficult moments. The Spirit accompanies us through them, nurturing us, guiding us, and continually expanding our vision of what is possible.

Jesus described the Spirit like the wind. You cannot control the wind. You cannot contain it. You can only learn to notice where it is already moving.

Perhaps that is why following Spirit feels both exhilarating and unsettling. The Spirit continually invites us beyond rigid systems and narrow imaginations into the unlimited spaciousness of God's love.

The kingdom Jesus proclaimed has always been far larger than we imagined.

Learning to Trust the Inner Witness

One of the great losses in many faith traditions has been forgetting that the Spirit speaks within us. We've often been taught to distrust ourselves. While wisdom reminds us not to follow every impulse of our ego, Jesus also promised that the Spirit would dwell within us as Comforter, Guide, and Companion.

In one of my favorite stories the disciples on the road to Emmaus recognized something before they understood it intellectually. "Didn't our hearts burn within us?" That burning heart becomes a beautiful image for discernment.

Sometimes well before we can explain what Spirit is doing, we sense it. We feel compassion awakening. We notice our hearts becoming more expansive. We recognize an invitation toward greater love. Learning to trust that inner witness is not an act of independence. It is an act of partnership with the Spirit already present within us.

Resurrection Happens in Community

The Emmaus story reminds us that resurrection is rarely practiced alone. People walking together, they asking questions together, wrestling with disappointment together. Only later did they realize that Christ had been walking with them all along.

This has become one of my deepest hopes for the Church. That we would become communities where we discern together. Where we ask difficult questions without fear. Where we make room for wonder instead of certainty. Where we trust that the Spirit is still leading us into all truth. Resurrection is not simply personal transformation. It is communal awakening.

An Open Table for Everyone

The encounter and story told about the Emmaus walk ends around a table. Bread is broken. Eyes are opened. Recognition happens through hospitality.This to me feels profoundly important. Communion has never been about creating insiders and outsiders. It has always been an invitation into belonging.

Every time we choose welcome over exclusion, every time we practice generosity instead of fear, every time we make room for someone who has been told they do not belong, we participate in resurrection.

The Spirit continually gathers us back to one another. Back to oneness. Back to love.

The Invitation Before Us

The ancient book of Wisdom describes Spirit as one who "makes all things new." That is still her work. She continues to breathe life into weary hearts. She continues to awaken imagination. She continues to remind us that we have never been separate from the love of God.

Perhaps practicing resurrection is simply learning to pay attention. To notice where life is emerging. To trust the quiet burning within our own hearts. To walk together. To listen deeply.And then, like Mary Magdalene, to go and tell the world that love is still alive.