No Grave 1

Introduction: The Grave That Couldn’t Hold Him

Imagine standing at a tombstone that has no name on it. No date. No epitaph. Just a rough, weathered stone, cracked down the middle and pushed slightly to the side, like someone left in a hurry. You brush away the dust expecting to find some trace of identity, but there's nothing—no sign of the person it belonged to. And when you kneel to peer inside, you realize the earth is empty. The grave has been vacated.

Now imagine that grave wasn’t just symbolic—it was yours. Your shame buried. Your guilt sealed away. Your fear put to rest. But when the stone was rolled back, you weren’t in it—because Jesus walked out, and He carried you with Him.

That’s the power of Easter. That’s the heart of "NO GRAVE." Because of Christ, the grave isn’t the end of our story—it’s the evidence that our real life has only just begun. Because of the implications of the cross, we are no longer slaves to sin, shame, or death. Jesus bore the wrath, absorbed the curse, and crushed the enemy so that we might live free—fully forgiven and forever secure. This is why we celebrate today: not just that Jesus rose, but that in rising, He rewrote the end of our story. The stone is rolled away, and grace has rolled in. We are no longer bound. We are no longer buried. We are alive—because He is.

The "NO GRAVE" series begins here—on Easter Sunday, with the declaration that because of Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection, the grave is no longer our end. In fact, for those in Christ, there is no grave deep enough, no sin dark enough, no enemy strong enough to separate us from the love of God.

This isn’t just a comfort—it’s a battle cry for the believer and an invitation for the skeptic to step into freedom. Today, we celebrate because Jesus did not stay in the grave. His resurrection is not just a historical event—it is the eternal turning point. Because He rose, we have hope, purpose, and power in this life and the next. So let’s lean into a few gospel truths that follow us wherever we go—because Jesus is alive, and that changes everything.

I. GOD IS FOR US

Romans 8:31-32

"What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"

Paul is not asking a question because he’s unsure—he’s exalting in a settled reality. “If” here means “since”. Since God is for us, we’re not waiting to see if He’ll come through—we’re standing in the confidence that He already has. The cross is our proof, and the empty tomb is our receipt.

Think of it: the very One who could have justly condemned us, instead gave up His Son for us. That’s not divine tolerance—it’s divine love in motion. The kind of love that moves mountains, rolls stones, and walks out of graves.

God didn’t just spare judgment—He gave us Jesus. And if He gave us Jesus, Paul says, how could we possibly believe He would withhold anything else we truly need?

This is the beginning of gospel freedom. This is the foundation of the "No Grave" life: a God who is not distant or indifferent—but for us, to the point of crucifixion and resurrection.

Who could possibly stand against us?

Not Satan. He may accuse, but Christ intercedes.

Not your past. It may haunt, but grace speaks louder.

Not your shame. It may whisper, but the cross shouts forgiveness.

Not your suffering. It may linger, but it cannot sever.

Not the world. Its chaos cannot cancel His promises.

Not your doubts. Even when your faith feels weak, His hold remains strong.

Not even death. Because Jesus entered the grave—and walked out of it alive.

Name the opposition. Stack it up. Line up your failures, fears, and regrets. And then hear Paul thunder back with gospel defiance: If God is for us, who can be against us??

Tim Keller once said, “The only person who can wake up a king at 3am for a glass of water is his child. We have that kind of access.” Why? Because the cross of Christ secured not just our forgiveness—but our favor with God.

Think about that kind of access—Jesus had it, perfectly. And yet, in the garden of Gethsemane, He fell on His face and prayed, "Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me." He wasn't just asking for escape—He was feeling the weight of wrath, the crushing judgment our sins deserved. He sweat drops of blood. He was abandoned, mocked, and beaten. He was lashed with a cat of nine tails—flesh torn, bones exposed. A crown of thorns was driven into His head. And then He carried His cross up the hill that was meant for criminals.

All of that, so that you and I could have the kind of access Keller talked about. So that when you’re at your weakest, your most afraid, your most ashamed—you can cry out to God not as a stranger, but as a son. As a daughter. As family. The cross didn’t just open the door. It welcomed you to the throne.

That’s why we have no grave. Because the One who bore our curse tore the veil and rolled away the stone.

Application: The resurrection isn’t just proof that Jesus lives—it’s proof that God has declared you righteous. This is more than a legal declaration—this is a personal adoption into the family of God. Because of the resurrection, your record is clean, your shame is removed, and your eternity is secure. God didn’t spare His own Son—He gave Him up for you. That means He will not withhold peace when you’re anxious, strength when you’re weary, grace when you’re guilty, or hope when you feel lost.

Think of what that means on a Monday morning. When the enemy whispers condemnation, you can answer with resurrection assurance: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” When you fall short, you don’t fall out of favor—you fall into grace. The cross was the payment. The resurrection is the guarantee.

You don’t need to earn what has already been gifted. You don’t need to fear what has already been defeated. The stone is rolled away—not just from Jesus’ tomb, but from every fear, failure, and barrier that once separated you from God.

II. JESUS TOOK OUR PLACE

Romans 8:33–34

"Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us."

Paul takes us into a courtroom scene. The atmosphere is heavy. The judge is seated. The books are opened. The prosecution—led by the accuser himself, Satan—steps forward with a list of charges so long it fills the room. You stand trembling at the defendant’s table, knowing every accusation is true. Every sin. Every thought. Every failure.

But before a word is spoken, a new voice breaks through the silence. It’s Jesus—the Judge’s Son. The room stirs. The Son of the Judge enters, not to sit beside Him, but to take your place. He doesn’t point to your record. He points to His wounds. He doesn’t speak in protest—He speaks in authority. And then, raising His hands—scarred by the cross, evidence of the price He paid—He walks to your seat, places Himself in your stead, and declares with holy finality: "It is finished."

The Judge rises—not in wrath, but in reverent agreement. And yet, make no mistake—His heart breaks. Because the one who took your place wasn’t a stranger, but His Son. As Jesus stood in your place, the Judge—God the Father—felt every lash of the whip, every hammer of the nail. And when the sky went dark at noon, it wasn’t just nature reacting—it was the Father expressing the unbearable sorrow of watching His Son bear our sin. The earth quaked as if it couldn’t hold the weight of the moment. The veil in the temple tore from top to bottom—not from man to God, but from God to man—because the Father Himself initiated the invitation.

The verdict echoes through eternity. The penalty has been satisfied—not overlooked, but paid in full by the One who shared the Judge’s heart and bore the sinner’s weight. The courtroom isn’t just quiet—it’s redeemed. And in the silence, you hear not just justice served, but love revealed.

The Judge nods—not in anger, but in agreement. The gavel falls. Not guilty. Justified. Cleared. Free.

Because Jesus not only took your penalty, He also now stands at the right hand of God, actively interceding for you. This isn’t just past mercy—it’s present advocacy.

You walk out of the courtroom not just forgiven—but adopted. Loved. Protected. Accompanied by the very One who paid your debt and now walks with you every step of the way.

This is what Paul is showing us: there’s no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because Jesus already stood condemned in our place.

John Piper writes, “The death of Christ secures our acquittal, and the resurrection secures our eternal life.”

Here’s the point: the cross crushed condemnation. The resurrection sealed your justification. Justification means that God, as Judge, has declared you righteous—not because of your record, but because of Jesus’ righteousness credited to you. It’s not that your sins are ignored; it’s that they’ve been fully paid for. And now, when God looks at you, He doesn’t see your failures—He sees His Son.

Imagine standing before a holy God, fully known, yet fully accepted—not by merit, but by mercy. That’s justification. And it is as unshakeable as the empty tomb. The resurrection is the loud announcement to the universe that the debt has been paid, the verdict is final, and the case is closed. You are free to live, not striving for approval, but resting in it. Not living for victory—but living from it.

Illustration: Have you ever gotten a debt paid off in full? You no longer receive bills because there's nothing left to pay.The weight that once sat on your chest lifts. You stop checking the mailbox with dread. You no longer avoid calls from unknown numbers. It’s gone. Canceled. Cleared. - personal story.

That’s what the resurrection does—it’s the divine receipt stamped across the story of your life: Paid in Full. But not by accident. Not by force. Paid by love.

On that cross, Jesus took on the full debt of sin, and with His final breath declared, “It is finished.” That wasn't a cry of defeat—it was the language of freedom. And when the stone rolled away three days later, the receipt was issued for all creation to see.

The resurrection is heaven’s confirmation that justice has been satisfied and mercy has triumphed. The debt is not in collections. It’s not pending. It’s done.

So when the enemy tries to remind you of what you owe, remind him of what was already paid. - Pastor Blake

III. NOTHING CAN SEPARATE US

Romans 8:35–36

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, 'For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.'"

We feel separated all the time, don’t we?

Relationships break.

Loved ones die.

Faith feels fragile.

Shame creeps in.

But Paul throws the whole world at this question and comes up with one answer: Nothing. Not death. Not demons. Not cancer. Not doubt. Not sin. Not grave. He lists the deepest valleys and darkest nights—tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, and even the sword. These aren't hypothetical—they’re the actual experiences of the early church. And if we’re honest, they feel close to home today, too.

Paul even quotes Psalm 44:22—"For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered." He isn’t sugarcoating the reality of suffering. He’s highlighting it. The Christian life does not mean immunity from pain—it means union with Christ through it.

And yet, not even the sword, not even the slaughter, not even the silence of loss can separate us from the love of Christ. Because the One who faced the ultimate separation—forsaken at the cross—did so to ensure that we would never be forsaken. He entered the grave, so we could live free from its fear.

Nothing has the power to break the bond forged in the blood of Jesus and confirmed by His resurrection. Nothing means nothing. Not your trauma. Not your failure. Not your diagnosis. Not your grief. You are not held together by your circumstances—you are held together by a resurrected Savior.

Paul Tripp says, “Your hope is never found in your performance; it’s always found in a Person.” That Person is Jesus—the One who didn’t ask you to climb your way up to God but came down into your mess. We live in a culture addicted to performance, to earning approval, to proving our worth. But the gospel flips that on its head. Your hope isn’t built on how many good days you’ve had, how strong your faith feels this week, or how well you’ve behaved—it’s built on the finished work of Jesus, who lived perfectly in your place, died sacrificially for your sin, and rose victoriously to secure your eternal future.

When the enemy comes to accuse, you don’t need to plead your case. You point to Jesus. When shame knocks on your door, you don’t open it with accomplishments—you open it with the cross. And when fear rises in your heart, you don’t conquer it with pep talks—you conquer it with the resurrection.

So if you’re tired, you’re in the right place. If you’re weak, welcome to grace. If you’re at the end of yourself, Jesus is exactly where you begin.

You are not held by your love for God—but by God’s unbreakable love for you. And if the grave couldn't hold Jesus, it won’t hold you.

IV. WE ARE MORE THAN CONQUERORS

Romans 8:37–39

"No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

“More than conquerors” doesn’t just mean we survive. It means we reign. (Thrive).

This is not a timid hope—it’s a triumphant declaration. Paul doesn’t say we scrape by or barely make it. He says we overwhelmingly conquer—not by our own strength, but through Him who loved us.

And what does that mean? It means we don’t fight for victory, we fight from it. Jesus already crushed the grave. He already silenced sin. He already disarmed death. And now we walk in the wake of His resurrection power.

Paul stacks the deck and dares anything to try and separate us from Jesus. Death can’t do it. Life won’t undo it. No angel or demon, no fear of the present or worry about the future, no scheme of hell, no height of pride or depth of despair—not even your worst moment—can cancel the covenant love of God poured out on you through Christ Jesus our Lord.

When Paul says “nothing in all creation” can separate us, he’s telling us the battle is already over. The enemy is already defeated. And the grave already lost.

This is what Easter declares: the love of God is unstoppable, immovable, unshakable—and it is yours in Christ.

So lift your head. Stand in resurrection confidence. And proclaim with your life: “I am more than a conqueror—not because of who I am, but because of who my Savior is.”

We don’t just avoid the grave—we proclaim to the grave: “O death, where is your sting?” (1 Cor. 15:55)

Judah Smith says, “The grave is not the end; it's just the beginning of forever with Jesus.”

This is what Easter declares: Victory has a name, and it’s Jesus. And He did not walk out of the tomb for Himself—He walked out for you.

GOSPEL INVITATION: No Grave for You

The reality is, we all face the grave. But not all of us are ready.

And the only way to live with no fear of the grave is to belong to the One who defeated it.

If today you realize that you don’t know where you’d stand before God—or maybe you know your life is separated from Him—then this is your invitation. The grave doesn't have to be your end. Christ offers you forgiveness, freedom, and a future.

SALVATION CALL & PRAYER

“If God is for us… who can be against us?” Only one thing: your own refusal.

But if today you’ll surrender, you can walk out of this place with the same victory Jesus walked out of that grave with.

Let’s pray together:

“Jesus, I believe you died for my sin and rose from the grave. I confess I am a sinner in need of your grace. Today I turn from my sin and put my faith in you. Be my Savior, my Lord, and my King. I want to follow you from this day forward. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for giving me life. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

Conclusion: The NO GRAVE Life

If Jesus walked out of the tomb, so can you. Not just physically—but spiritually, relationally, emotionally.

The NO GRAVE life is the life of the Spirit. It’s the life where no shame, no sin, and no death has the final word.

So church, live like the stone is rolled away.

Because it is.