The Resurrection Harvest Has Begun
“But now Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep.”
— 1 Corinthians 15:20
Some feasts arrive with the sound of trumpets; others unfold in sacred silence. The Feast of First Fruits, nestled between Passover and Pentecost, may seem the quietest of the Spring Feasts, but it carries a significance that resonates through eternity. Known in Hebrew as Yom HaBikkurim, it was celebrated on the day after the Sabbath during the week of Unleavened Bread—placing it, in the year of the crucifixion, on the very morning Jesus rose from the grave.
On Nisan 17, death gave way to life. The stone was rolled away, not merely as a sign of victory, but as the opening moment of a greater harvest. Christ, raised from the dead, was not just a singular miracle but the beginning of something far larger. The earth itself, like a field long dormant, opened under the Gardener’s feet—and the first sheaf of resurrection life was lifted to heaven.
This was not incidental. It was intentional. The barley sheaf offered in the temple was more than grain—it pointed forward to a body broken and raised. The Feast of First Fruits had always been preparing the people of God to expect not just provision, but transformation. The gospel was present in the feast before it was preached from any pulpit.
In the days leading up to Israel’s exodus from Egypt, the Lord made a striking announcement: time itself would be reordered around redemption. Up until that point, Israel’s civil calendar had begun in the fall, but God declared that the month of Nisan—the time of deliverance—would now mark the beginning of the year (Exodus 12:2). The rhythms of God’s people would now begin with salvation.
The Spring Feasts—Passover (Nisan 14), Unleavened Bread (Nisan 15–21), and First Fruits (Nisan 17)—formed a sequence that was both agricultural and theological. Through these days, God embedded into the calendar a pattern of death, burial, and resurrection. The very flow of time became a kind of sermon.
In this newly redeemed calendar, the first month would hold the Spring Feasts, the third month would welcome Pentecost, and the seventh month would declare the Fall Feasts. The arc of redemption was now built into the very structure of time—each appointed season bearing witness to salvation’s unfolding.
The numbers themselves told the story: one signaled unity, three provided witness, and seven pointed to fulfillment. God did not simply give Israel feasts; He gave them signs. Each day anticipated a Deliverer who would move through death and burial into victorious life.
“On the day after the Sabbath…” (Leviticus 23:11)
This phrase establishes the timing of First Fruits: the day after the Sabbath that falls during the week of Unleavened Bread. In the year of Jesus’ crucifixion, this aligned precisely with Nisan 17—the morning He rose from the dead.
Across these three days, the story of Israel and the story of the Messiah converge in powerful ways.
|
Date (Nisan) |
Israel’s Journey |
Christ’s Fulfillment |
Theological Insight |
|
15 – Passover |
The blood of the lamb shields from judgment |
Jesus is crucified (John 19:14) |
Every altar foreshadowed a cross. |
|
16 – Unleavened Bread |
The journey begins; sin is left behind |
Jesus is buried; sin is buried with Him |
The tomb is empty so your soul could be full. |
|
17 – First Fruits |
The Red Sea parts; new creation dawns |
Jesus rises (1 Corinthians 15:20) |
Redemption is not just escape—it is transformation. |
The pattern is unmistakable. What happened to Israel in shadow happened to Christ in substance. And what was fulfilled in Him now belongs to those united with Him.
According to Leviticus 23, the people were to bring a single sheaf of barley—the first of the harvest—and lift it before the Lord. It was not an act of negotiation or payment, but of recognition. The wave offering proclaimed, “This belongs to You, because all of it does.”
Yom HaBikkurim was a feast of trust. The people gave the first, believing God would bring the rest. That is precisely what Paul means when he calls Christ the “first fruits of those who have fallen asleep.” He’s not inventing a metaphor—he’s appealing to the logic of the feast. If the first sheaf is holy, then the entire harvest is set apart (Romans 11:16). The resurrection of Jesus was not merely His victory—it was the beginning of ours.
The idea of resurrection did not begin in the Gospels. Throughout Israel’s story, we see glimpses of a God who specializes in new beginnings, often tied to the very date of the Feast of First Fruits Nissan 17:
Each of these moments points to the kind of resurrection reversal that would one day burst forth from a sealed tomb. The pattern was never hidden—it was simply waiting for its fulfillment in Christ.
Jesus once said, “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24). On First Fruits, this imagery takes on flesh and breath. What looked like a grave became the ground of promise—a place where death gave way to life and the harvest of resurrection began.
The sheaf lifted in the temple that morning was likely offered with over 1500 years of familiarity. But in heaven, the offering was eternal and new. Christ did not merely rise—He inaugurated a harvest that is still unfolding. If He is the first fruits, then every believer in Him is part of the coming yield.
Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15:23 offer a layered assurance: “Each in his own order: Christ the first fruits, then at His coming those who belong to Him.” This speaks not just to a timeline, but to a theological certainty.
First, Christ’s resurrection is our guarantee. Just as the offering of the first sheaf ensured the rest would follow, His rising secures the resurrection of all who are in Him.
Second, His victory is our security. Romans 6 reminds us that Christ was raised never to die again. That permanence is now the inheritance of His people.
Third, His life is our source. The same Spirit who raised Jesus now dwells in us (Romans 8:11), animating our present lives with resurrection power.
Finally, His rising marks the beginning of new creation. Resurrection is not merely about the afterlife—it is about this life being infused with the presence and promise of the next.
To walk in the pattern of First Fruits is to live in light of a risen Lord. We don’t simply believe in resurrection—we are called to embody it. This means we give our first and best, not as a way to earn, but as a response to what Christ has already done. Our mornings, our decisions, our daily work—all of it can be waved before the Lord with the same declaration, “This belongs to You.”
The resurrection reframes everything. It reshapes our waiting and reorders our worship. And as the Feast of First Fruits looks ahead to Pentecost, we too await the fullness of the Spirit’s work—the harvest of lives made new in Christ.
Christ is the first fruits of a new creation, and the Gardener is still harvesting. Every life brought into union with Him is a testimony to the power of resurrection. Nisan 17 was not the end of the story—it was the beginning of the harvest Christ had come to gather. Let us live not as those still buried, but as those already raised. And let us await the day when the full harvest is brought in.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus.