The Graves That Face the Morning

Walk through the old churchyard at First Presbyterian in Elizabeth, New Jersey, where tombstones date back to 1664. Notice something peculiar: nearly every grave faces east. This was no accident. For centuries, Christians buried their dead with feet pointing toward the rising sun, so that on resurrection morning, they would rise facing the dawn.

Think about that. These grieving families, through tears and aching loss, positioned their loved ones not as the defeated but as the expectant. They did not lay them down in surrender. They laid them down in anticipation.

Paul understood this posture. Writing to the Corinthians, he didn't whisper his words about death — he shouted them. "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" This isn't a question born of uncertainty. It's a taunt. It's a victor standing over a conquered enemy and asking, "Is that all you've got?"

The sting of death is sin, Paul says, and sin drew its power from the law we could never fully keep. But God — the Almighty — did what we could not. Through Christ's cross and empty tomb, He pulled death's teeth, stripped its venom, and handed us the victory we never could have won ourselves.

So the next time death feels close — and it will — remember those old graves facing east. The darkness is real, but it is temporary. Morning is coming.