
One of the most stirring Easter hymns in the church’s tradition is “Low in the Grave He Lay” (Christ Arose) by Robert Lowry. Written in 1874, it captures both the sorrow of Christ’s burial and the sudden, overwhelming joy of His resurrection. It begins in the stillness of the grave, but with a burst of triumph declares the Savior’s victory over death. The contrast between the solemn verses and the explosive refrain mirrors the Resurrection itself — where silence gave way to glory. In one of the first publications of the hymn, the words of Luke 24:6 were printed below the title: “He is not here, but is risen.”
“Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior, Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord.”
The grave is where hope seemed to end. Christ had been crucified. His body lay in the tomb, sealed and guarded. If we had only a dead Christ — one who lived beautifully, died nobly, and was laid to rest — we might grieve over His memory and admire His example. But we could not walk with Him. We could not pray to Him. We could not lean on His strength.
A dead Christ could not help us in our trials or comfort us in our sorrow. At best, we would be left with a noble martyr. But we have something more. We have a living Redeemer.
“Up from the grave He arose!”
Jesus did not remain in the tomb. Death could not hold Him. On the third day, He rose again, just as He said. The stone was rolled away — not to let Him out, but to show us the tomb was empty.
The disciples mourned. Their hopes were buried with Him. But when the risen Christ stood in their midst and spoke peace to their hearts, everything changed. Their sorrow turned to joy. Their fear to courage. They had not lost Him — He was alive. And he is today.
“Vainly they watch His bed. Vainly they seal the dead.”
The powers of earth tried to make the grave final. Soldiers kept watch. A seal was set on the stone. But no force of man could prevent the resurrection. The enemies of Christ were defeated not by sword or storm, but by an empty tomb.
We do not serve a silent memory or a distant ideal. Christ is present. He walks with His people. He dwells in their hearts. In the lonely places, the burdens of duty, the hour of temptation — He is near.
“He arose a Victor from the dark domain.”
Christ did not merely come back to life. He rose as a conqueror. He took on death itself and won. He triumphed not only over the grave, but over every enemy that threatens the soul — sin, fear, condemnation, and eternal separation from God.
This is why we live with hope. “Because I live,” Jesus said, “you also will live.” The grave no longer speaks the final word. The resurrection of Christ is the promise that one day, our bodies too shall rise — glorified and incorruptible — because He arose a Victor.
“Death cannot keep his prey, Jesus my Savior! He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!”
Nothing could hold Him — not the stone, not the guards, not the power of death. He tore the bars away. He rose in power. He lives forevermore. And now He reigns — not from a tomb, but from the throne of heaven.
Let us not live as though Christ were a figure of the past. Let us live as those who serve a risen, reigning, present Savior. Let us walk with Him, talk with Him, trust in Him, and rest in His power. We are saved because “Up from the grave He arose.”
Adapted from “A Living Christ” by J.R. Miller and interwoven with lyrics by Robert Lowry.