From Earthworms to Butterflies: The Transformative Power of Resurrection

The Lord is risen!
He is truly risen!

Dear Congregation,

“Transformation” – that is how one can sum up the resurrection from the dead. Transformation and renewal. What already exists takes on a new form.

Resurrection from the dead—how is that supposed to work? For this new reality, human words are insufficient. And yet, we must try to convey this new and different reality using human language. In this effort, the Bible is our guide. Both the prophets, as well as Jesus, and the apostles have sometimes used imagery from nature to communicate divine truth and reality.

Our world is an imperfect one. Nevertheless, the Creator has embedded parables within it that help us become familiar with the reality of the divine. Transformation is not merely a matter for eternity; it is already a reality here on earth. We humans transform from infants into the elderly. When you are injured, tissue renews itself through healing. Our cells are constantly renewing themselves. Every seven years, we have completely renewed cells. Eating and digesting are processes of transformation.

Now, in springtime, we see nature awakening to life once more. That too is transformation. Even in this life, there is much to marvel at.

The question of “how” resurrection works has always preoccupied people. Even the ancients did not simply accept everything as it was. Consider the philosophers in Athens, who became almost dismissive when Paul spoke about the resurrection of the dead (Acts 17). There were also questioning and critical voices in Corinth.

The Apostle Paul addresses these concerns. He dedicates an entire chapter in 1 Corinthians to this topic. Among other things, he uses an analogy from nature as evidence:

1 Corinthians 15:35–38, 42–44


35 But someone will ask, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body do they come?”
36 You foolish person! What you sow does not come to life unless it dies.
37 And what you sow is not the body that is to be, but a bare kernel, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain.
38 But God gives it a body as he has chosen, and to each kind of seed its own body.
42 So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable.
43 It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power. 
44 iIt is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.

How will the dead be raised? What kind of body will they have?

The resurrection seemed just as implausible to people back then as it does to many today. “How will the dead be raised?” This question can be asked mockingly or searchingly, with scorn or with curiosity and joyful anticipation.

Life’s questions are questions of faith, and questions of faith are life’s questions.

How incredible and contrary to all experience and reason the idea of resurrection is can be illustrated by the following story:

The Congress of Earthworms

The earthworms were discussing soil conditions and the importance of their task, which was to eat soil, break it down, and loosen it. They marveled at how deep the earth seemed to go, deeper than they had imagined.

The official part of the congress was quickly completed. The necessity of continuing their work was evident. Small groups began to form.

A young earthworm demonstrated how to promote the formation of segments by curling around a straw. In doing so, he encountered something rough and hairy—and it moved.

It was a caterpillar, exhausted from fatigue. The earthworms advised it to eat soil to gain strength. The caterpillar refused.

The president of the earthworms responded: “But I insist. That is life: crawling on the earth and eating soil. If you can no longer do that, you die. But one ought to live and grow old. I can recommend various methods. It’s macrobiotics.”

The caterpillar told the earthworms about metamorphosis, about becoming a colorful butterfly, about sunlight and bellflowers. The earthworms squirmed in agitated confusion: “Flying? Sunlight? What does that even mean? That doesn’t exist! Are you unwell?”

The caterpillar said no more. It clung to the straw, and from its body, fine threads spun themselves, wrapping it up entirely.

“This is a terrible illness,” the earthworms concluded as they observed this phenomenon daily.

One day, the cocoon moved. A butterfly emerged, spread its wings, and flew into the sunlight.

Down in the dust, the congress of earthworms continued. They puzzled over what had happened.

“Now it is completely dead,” the earthworms said, as the butterfly flew above their heads, singing with a thousand voices in the light: “Resurrection.”

Dear Congregation, we are much like the earthworms—earthbound creatures.

We work the soil, delve into deeper layers of our existence, reflect on our being, ponder our origins, and question our destination. Some remain tied to earthly matters and “eat earth their whole lives.” They wriggle through life, reaching for goals this world offers, and want to acknowledge nothing beyond it.

The reality of this earth is not only life but even more so, death. When a person dies, the verdict is passed: “Now it is completely dead.”

But is that really the case? Or is there a reality that our senses cannot perceive, cannot possibly perceive? The metamorphosis of the caterpillar certainly points in this direction, as does other transformation in nature and in this world.

To the accusation from science that resurrection life is unprovable, that everything is matter, that the body decomposes into its chemical components, and that beyond that there is no other life, the apostle would even today respond by pointing to nature. Look and recognize the diversity of forms in nature. Microorganisms, animals, birds, fish, humans. Observe the variety of life. Behold the splendor of the universe.

And what about the spirit? Into what does human thought, a person’s soul, dissolve? This domain cannot be grasped by natural means.

With the example of creation, Paul points to God’s power. He considers His possibilities. God has the ability to create anew. You are a fool if you do not acknowledge this.

Transformation not only in life but transformation through death.

Death, which destroys the body, is compelled to bring forth something new.

The perishable becomes imperishable, dishonor is transformed into glory, weakness is replaced by resurrection power. The natural body will be transformed into a spiritual body.

Dear Congregation, one might get the impression that all of this happens automatically.

In nature, God has built in a certain transformation. In nature, there is a continuous cycle of becoming and passing, passing and becoming. The resurrection from the dead also means transformation, but not to pass away again.

And only those who believe in the risen Christ and His work of salvation will rise to life. Our renewal is rooted in Christ. Otherwise, there will be a resurrection to judgment. This is emphasized elsewhere in Scripture.

Dear Congregation, the Easter faith is focused on Jesus Christ.

With Him and through Him, we are transformed.

Just like—from a worm to a butterfly.

Amen.

The Lord is risen!
He is truly risen!

Sermon held on 04/21/2025