This is the first time I've published anything on Easter Sunday. It would seem remiss not to acknowledge one of the most fundamental influences in the person I'm becoming. I work hard to keep religion and politics out of a real estate newsletter, and I mostly succeed. This isn't political. I'd argue it isn't really about "religion" in the organized sense, either. It's about a life-changing realization — one I'm still working through.

I grew up in a Christian home, was baptized early, and the trajectory seemed obvious. But combine a normal teenager's rebellion with a genuinely curious mind and a stubborn refusal to believe something just because someone said so, and my late teens and early 20s became what I can only call a Quest for Truth.

I'd seen unfortunate — sometimes shameful — things in my own experience with the Church. So I wondered: maybe truth was hiding in one of the other isms, or perhaps behind Door D, "none of the above." I read a lot, thought a lot, had many interesting conversations. And I kept arriving at the same place: Christianity rises or falls on a single claim. The resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

Before I could examine it honestly, I had to set three things aside:

The preposterous nature of the claim. It's all too easy to dismiss without ever actually thinking about it.

The actions of others — including the unfortunate and shameful ones. It's illogical to assume those actions accurately reflect the nature and character of Jesus. People are flawed. That's not His fault; it's, arguably, why He showed up in the first place.

The implications. I realized later that this is why many people maintain an atheistic or agnostic position — not because the evidence leads them there, but because they don't want the moral obligations that might follow from faith. That seemed to me a non-logical reason to reject truth. So I dug in.

My aim was — and still is — to know the truth as best I can, and let the “implication chips” fall where they may.

This isn't the place to lay out the evidence for the resurrection. You can find that on your own, and I'd encourage you to. What I will say is this: the evidence overwhelmed me. Of all the things I hold to be true, the resurrection may be the one that requires the least of what people call a "blind leap of faith."

Iron sinks, but boats float. Gravity is real, but enormous airplanes fly. Most of us board a plane with essentially no understanding of avionics — we trust the engineers, the captains, and the technology. That's faith, isn't it? I have more knowledge about the resurrection than I do about what keeps a 747 in the air. On that basis, belief in the resurrection requires less faith than flying.

That said — faith is required. God seems to always provide enough evidence to affirm it, while leaving enough open that faith remains necessary. That appears to be His way.

Years ago, preparing to move from Georgia to Philadelphia, a young man named Richard — someone I'd befriended in karate class — asked to meet before I left. We sat down at a local pizza joint, ordered our food, and the moment the waitress walked away, without any small talk, he looked at me and said:

"I know you're a Christian. I'm not. But something you said a few weeks ago got me thinking. So what's the big deal about Jesus?"

I sat with that for a moment. Then I said, "On the night before he died, Jesus told his closest friends, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'"

Richard cut in: "But they killed him the next day. So he's just some dead guy, right?"

"Yes. Except he didn't stay dead. Three days later, he rose."

Richard's jaw dropped. He leaned back and said, slowly: "What? I never heard that."

He had grown up within a few miles of at least fifty churches. He'd been to one, once, hadn't understood what was happening, and never went back. Two hours later, we were still talking. I walked him through my own journey, the evidence, what it meant. We ended in the parking lot, where I reached into my car and handed him a Bible — showed him the Gospel of John, suggested one chapter a day, told him to write down every question he had as he read, and to bring them to our mutual friend Ben, who taught the karate classes and lived in the community.

And this is the implication of the resurrection I shared with him - and now you:

Anyone who rises from the dead is probably worth listening to.

This was the early 90s. No cell phones, no real internet. I gave Richard my new Philadelphia address and told him he could write. He never did. But he talked to Ben — a lot — over the following weeks. And he became a follower of the Way.

More than thirty years later, I still think about the resurrection. Not just on Easter. Not just on Sundays.

My hope is that you will too. Think about it. Set aside for a moment the preposterous nature of the claim, the actions of flawed people, and even the implications, and consider this at least long enough to draw your own conclusion.

Today seems like a good day to start.

Because He is risen — Indeed.