In our reading from the Gospel of Mark this morning we find Jesus in the closing days of the last week of his life here on earth as a man. Earlier in the week he had made his way into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey while the crowds thronged the sides of the road, crying, “‘Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!’” (Mark 11:10) He had then purged the temple of the merchants and money-changers and began teaching his final lessons to his closest followers.
The religious leaders, seeing how he was drawing the crowds, were jealous and felt threatened by Jesus, so they began to question him to try and trap him so they could accuse him in front of the people and have him arrested by the Roman overlords. Mark tells us, “And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him; for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching.” (Mark 11:18)
So, they tried to catch him out. They came and asked him about what he was teaching the people, saying, “… ‘By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you this authority to do them?’” (Mark 11:28) Jesus said to them, “… ‘I will ask you one question; answer me, and I will tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin? Answer me.’” (Mark 11:29-30) And when they couldn’t agree he refused to answer their question.
Next it was the turn of the Pharisees and Herodians, Mark tells us, “Then they sent to him some Pharisees and some Herodians to trap him in what he said.” (Mark12:13) They asked him if it was correct to pay taxes to the Roman authorities who were occupying Israel. This was Jesus’ response, “‘‘… Why are you putting me to the test? Bring me a denarius and let me see it.’ And they brought one. Then he said to them, ‘Whose head is this, and whose title?’ They answered, ‘The emperor’s.’ Jesus said to them, ‘Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’” (Mark 12:15-17) With that reply they had no answer, and so they went away.
And finally, it came down to the Sadducees. While they were a religious group, most of their members were of the upper class of Jerusalem society. Because of their wealth and status, they were arrogant and looked down on those around them, including the chief priests, scribes and Pharisees. The two major differences in their beliefs and those of the other religious groups were that they didn’t believe in the resurrection, nor in angels.
And so, they thought they had the question which would finally put that upstart, Jesus, in his place. They asked him, “‘Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies, leaving a wife but no child, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. There were seven brothers; the first married and, when he died, left no children; and the second married her and died, leaving no children; and the third likewise; none of the seven left children. Last of all the woman herself died. In the resurrection whose wife will she be? For the seven had married her.’”
The first thing to note here is that they call Jesus, “Teacher”. This was meant to be a sarcastic title, spoken not in humility, but with thinly veiled mockery. There was no way that they would consider a mere carpenter’s son to be their teacher. Secondly, asking about what would take place in the resurrection is a bit two-faced. Since they didn’t believe that a resurrection would take place, why ask about it? Obviously, they were setting a trap for Jesus.
But Jesus, as always, knew how to avoid it, he said to them, “‘Is not this the reason you are wrong, that you know neither the scriptures nor the power of God? For when they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven. And as for the dead being raised, have you not read in the book of Moses, in the story about the bush, how God said to him, “I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob”? He is God not of the dead, but of the living; you are quite wrong.’”
That reply certainly put them in their place. Twice Jesus tells them plainly that they are wrong—not because they lack intelligence, but because they lack understanding. Their error is rooted in two deep failures: they do not truly know the Scriptures, and they do not grasp the power of God.
They knew the words of Scripture well enough to quote them, debate them, and use them in an argument. Yet they missed the heart of what Scripture reveals—who God is, how God acts, and what God is able to do. Knowledge of verses had not led them to trust, humility, or wonder.
And just as seriously, they underestimated the power of God. They tried to fit God into the limits of their own logic, assuming that the life to come must look exactly like this one. Jesus reminds them that resurrection is not a rearrangement of the present order, but a work of divine power—God doing what only God can do.
In correcting them, Jesus exposes a danger that remains with us still: it is possible to be religious, informed, and confident, yet still profoundly mistaken. When Scripture is reduced to a tool for argument, and God’s power is reduced to what we can imagine, faith becomes small and God becomes manageable.
Jesus’ rebuke is therefore not merely a condemnation, but an invitation—an invitation to know the Scriptures as a living witness to God, and to trust the power of a God who is able to do far more than we can ask or imagine.
This is where that question from the Sadducees really meets us where we live. Because if we’re honest, many of us carry the same kind of questions the Sadducees brought to Jesus—just in a different form. We, too, find ourselves worrying about what will happen after the resurrection—especially when it comes to the relationships that matter most to us. We wonder about our spouses: Will we still be married? Will we still recognize one another? Will the love we share now simply disappear?
And behind those questions is a deep and understandable concern. Our marriages, our families, and our closest bonds shape who we are. They are among God’s greatest gifts in this life. So, when Jesus speaks of a resurrection that is different from what we know, it can feel unsettling, even threatening.
Jesus gently, but firmly, tells us that resurrection life is different. It’s not bound by the limitations of this world. Marriage, as beautiful and holy as it is, belongs to this life. In the resurrection, our relationships are not erased—they are fulfilled. They are held securely in God rather than defined by earthly arrangements. Resurrection life is not a replay of this life. It is a transformation of it. We often struggle to imagine that. We cling to what we know. But the hope of resurrection is not that God will restore things exactly as they were. The hope is that God will make all things new.
Jesus’ teaching is not meant to downplay love, but to enlarge it. He is not saying that relationships will be erased; He is saying they will be transformed. The life to come will not be governed by the limitations, needs, or structures of this world. Instead, it will be shaped fully by the power of God—a power that perfects rather than destroys what is good.
Just as the Sadducees could not imagine a world beyond marriage as they knew it, we often struggle to imagine a future beyond the forms we are used to. But resurrection life is not less personal or less loving—it is more so. In God’s kingdom, no love is lost, no bond is wasted, and no faithfulness goes unnoticed.
When Jesus says that in the resurrection, people are “like the angels,” he’s not saying we become strangers to one another. He’s saying that our life with God will be so complete, so secure, and so full, that we will no longer need the structures that once held things together.
So, Jesus calls us, as he did them, to trust both the Scriptures and the power of God. To trust that the God who gave us love in this life will not take it away in the next but will bring it to its fullest and truest expression—beyond anything we can now fully understand. And that’s where trust comes in. Trusting that the God who gave us love here will not ignore it there. Trusting that the power of God is greater than our fears, our questions, and even our imaginations.
This passage speaks to us in at least three important ways. First, it challenges us to trust God’s power beyond our understanding. There are times when faith stretches us beyond what seems reasonable or explainable. Resurrection is one of those places. If we reduce God to what we can logically manage, we will always end up with too small a God.
Second, it comforts us in our grief. Jesus does not deny death. He does not minimize loss. But he insists that death is not the final word. Those we love in the Lord are not lost to God. They are held by him, alive in his presence.
Third, it changes how we live now. If God is the God of the living, then our lives matter—not just for today, but for eternity. What we do, how we love, how we trust God—these are not temporary things. They are seeds of resurrection life.
So, we live in hope. Not a vague wish, not a sentimental comfort, but a hope grounded in the faithfulness of God. The God who knows us by name now will not forget us in the resurrection. The love we have shared is not lost to him. Those we have loved in this life will not be strangers in the life to come.
And yet, Jesus reminds us that the resurrection is more than a simple continuation of what we already know. We will know one another, yes—but we will know one another differently. Our relationships will be transformed, purified, and completed in ways we cannot yet imagine. What we cling to now with fear or confusion will one day be held in clarity and joy. The limitations of this life will give way to the fullness of God’s life.
That is why we trust, even when we do not fully understand. We place our questions, our grief, and our longing into the hands of the living God, who is not the God of the dead, but of the living. And we walk forward in faith, loving deeply now, resting in hope for what is to come, and waiting for the day when all things—our lives, our relationships, and our hearts—are made new in Christ.
Let us Pray:
Gracious and eternal God, you are the God of the living, not of the dead, and in your hands our lives are held both now and forever. We thank you for the hope of the resurrection—that death does not have the final word, that love is not lost, and that those whom we have loved are known to you still. We trust that in your new creation we will know one another, not as we once were, but as we are made new in you.
Give us faith when our understanding falls short. Teach us to rest in your promises when our questions remain unanswered. Shape our hearts to live with hope, to love without fear, and to trust that what you are preparing for us is greater than anything we can now imagine. Amen