The Night the Wall Came Down

On November 9, 1989, East Berliner Angelika Wachs stood in a crowd pressing toward the Bornholmer Strasse checkpoint. For twenty-eight years, the Berlin Wall had been absolute — concrete, barbed wire, and armed guards enforcing a boundary no one could cross. That night, overwhelmed border guards finally stepped aside. Angelika was among the first to walk through.

She didn't fully believe it until her feet touched Western pavement. But once she crossed, thousands surged behind her. By morning, families separated for decades were embracing in the streets. The wall that had seemed eternal was already being dismantled with hammers and bare hands.

Paul tells the Corinthians that Christ has been raised as the "firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." That agricultural term would have landed with force — the firstfruits were not the whole harvest, but they were the guarantee that the full harvest was coming. Christ walked through death the way Angelika walked through that checkpoint. He went first, and His crossing proved the barrier was broken for everyone who would follow.

And notice what Paul calls death: "the last enemy." Not a friend. Not a natural passage. An enemy — like that wall was an enemy to every family it divided. But enemies can be destroyed. The Almighty has promised that this final barrier will fall, and we have the firstfruits as proof. The crossing has already begun.