In 1942, deep in the segregated South, Clarence Jordan opened a farm.
Its name was Koinonia (Greek for “fellowship”). It was a patch of Georgia dirt where Black and white families shared faith, labor, meals, and life. In a time and place where racial integration could get you driven out of town, the Koinonia community stood its ground.
Clarence—part preacher, farmer, and rebel theologian—founded Koinonia as “a demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God.” Like farmers testing new crops on a small section of land, Clarence believed the church should be a preview of what was coming. A place on earth that reveals what heaven is like.
He wrote, “The crowning evidence that [Jesus] lives is not a vacant grave, but a spirit-filled fellowship. Not a rolled-away stone, but a carried-away church.”
Clarence was carried away, not by naïve optimism or political ideology but by the hope of Easter. He was investing in the future God had already secured. A future where every tribe, tongue, and nation worships together. A future where swords become plowshares, where hate is buried, and where love reigns.
The South in 1942 was, in many ways, a vision of hell on earth. But with their small plot of land, Koinonia set out to be something different. And from that tiny farm, something remarkable grew: a global ministry that would go on to build homes, restore dignity, and provide shelter for millions. You might’ve heard of it before. It’s now called Habitat for Humanity.
Clarence Jordan wasn’t a bestselling author or a conference headliner. He was an everyday Christian who understood that everyday faithfulness is never wasted. He knew his life was more than his own—it was a demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God.
What about yours?
Resurrection: A Present Reality
Treating the resurrection like a punctuation mark at the end of the gospel story is easy. A one-time miracle. A spiritual mic drop. Something we celebrate once a year and then quietly move on from by Monday.
But resurrection isn’t just something to believe in. It’s something to live in.
When Jesus walked out of the tomb, a new creation began. Heaven started invading earth. The future broke into the present. It wasn’t just the end of death but the beginning of a life that never ends—a life that redefines how we see everything: our work, our relationships, our bodies, our time, our hope.
That’s why, right after rising from the dead, Jesus didn’t gather applause; he gave a commission. “Go,” he said. Not just to Judea and Samaria but to every square inch of creation. Into neighborhoods, classrooms, offices, and kitchens. Into awkward conversations, small acts of faith, and long seasons of obedience. Teach, baptize, forgive, serve, love. “Bring my resurrection reality to the ends of the earth.”
That command still stands in 2025.
As followers of Jesus, we are called to live as demonstration plots for Jesus’s kingdom. This won’t always happen in grand gestures or headline-making moments but in daily choices, countercultural rhythms, and lives that echo the reality of the resurrection.
You don’t need a stage or a platform to live this out. You just need the plot of life God has already given you. Your schedule, your abilities, your relationships, your time. That’s where heaven wants to break in.
But what does that look like for you?
Everyday Christians
You may never start a farm. You may never lead a movement. But you can still be a demonstration plot for the kingdom of God. Like Clarence Jordan, you can begin planting the seeds of heaven in the soil of your everyday life.
Maybe that means practicing presence in a world addicted to distraction. Perhaps it’s choosing rest in a culture that glorifies hustle. Or opening your door to people who don’t think, vote, or look like you. Maybe it’s forgiving someone who doesn’t deserve it. Or telling the truth when lying would be easier. Maybe it’s praying even when God feels silent. Or choosing courage even when it feels pointless.
If the kingdom is going to be a place of peace, then we practice peace in the middle of our daily tensions. If the kingdom is going to include every tribe and tongue, then we start by listening to our neighbors. If the kingdom is going to be where love reigns, then we let it reign in traffic, at the store, and in our cubicles.
Resurrection living is rarely loud. It’s seldom impressive. It looks like mustard seeds: small, slow, and hidden. But Jesus said the kingdom works like that. It grows in ordinary soil. And it surprises the world with its power.
But you can’t build this kind of life on Sunday sermons alone.
Resurrection living is formed through Monday routines. Tuesday small group. Wednesday phone calls. Friday dinners. Saturday prayers. Christian living isn’t just about where you attend on Easter Sunday—it’s about what you attend to every other day of the year.
As Paul commanded the church in Rome, “Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship” (Romans 12:1).
In other words, worship is an everyday act. And when you offer your habits, your time, your attention, your specific plot of life on God’s altar, heaven seeps through.
You may not feel like your life matters. But when you live inside the Easter story, everything does. Your daily life becomes the soil where resurrection takes root. The question isn’t whether it looks impressive. The question is: Are you giving God something to grow?
That’s what Clarence Jordan did. With a small farm, a quiet faith, and a stubborn belief in the gospel, he gave the world a glimpse of where history was headed. And so can you.
Because 2,000 years ago, deep in the heart of a broken world, a tomb was opened. And today, in the middle of your everyday life—it’s still open. So live like it.
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