4/4/21

John 19:38-42

38 After these things Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him permission. So he came and took away his body. 39 Nicodemus also, who earlier had come to Jesus by night, came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds in weight. 40 So they took the body of Jesus and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews. 41 Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. 42 So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there.

The Setting

We've become very used to stories wherein the rich guys are the bad guys. We all love underdogs and love to see the poor vindicated and those who have not come to greatness, but our first heroes in the passion narrative are a couple of rich guys. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus were rich guys. They were both well-to-do Pharisees with seats on the Sanhedrin. Think of the Sanhedrin as the ancient equivalent of the Supreme Court—one with seventy-one judges. That was their role: to hear cases and make judgments.

Both Joseph and Nicodemus were followers of Jesus and men of bold character. When Jesus' closest followers had abandoned him and run off in hiding to save themselves, Joseph and Nicodemus stepped up and took responsibility for care. 

Joseph asks Pilate for Jesus' body. As a member of the Sanhedrin, Joseph would have had that kind of access. It was a huge favor to ask because crucifixion was about more than execution; it was about humiliation. Crucified men were not to be taken down and buried, for their presence hanging on crosses was a daily and hourly reminder that Rome was boss. You mess with Rome; you get the horns. 

No Jew would ever want to see any other Jew crucified, for it was an offense not only to the man but to the whole of Israel. One Jew hanging on a cross presents a loud and effective proclamation that Rome dominates Israel. 

And hundreds upon hundreds had been crucified previously, their bodies on crosses on the roads outside the city gates. Approaching Jerusalem, these crucifixes stood like billboards promising the same treatment for any acts of insurrection. 

So to ask to take someone down would be to minimize that Roman message. Why did Pilate do it? We don't know, but we do know that he wasn't in favor of Jesus' crucifixion in the first place. He only did it to appease the Temple Establishment, who would have regularly asked that any other Jew—even the worst criminal—be spared crucifixion. 

Together with his friend Nicodemus, Joseph takes down Jesus' body and place it in a new tomb nearby. 

We don't know what Joseph did for a living, but we know he owned what had been a quarry just beyond one of the western city gates. Such quarries were mined for limestone until they could get no more. After that, they could be turned into gardens, or as with Joseph, garden tombs. 

Golgotha means place of the skull. It may have been the location of many crucifixions over the years. Still, we know Joseph had turned it into a garden and had begun to hew the rock for a family tomb, not a stone's throw away from the spot of Jesus' crucifixion. 

Taking him down, they wrap his head in a face cloth called a sudarium, and once they lay him down in the preparation area of the new, unused tomb, they cover him over with linen cloth. The 75 pounds of spices and aloe were for the washing with warm water. They were probably not used. Crucified men were not usually buried, so the rules were off the books. The Jewish custom for a man who died by great violence as Jesus had would not be to wash, but to bury him with his blood upon him, intact, for they believed that one’s soul was in one’s blood. They simply folded the shroud over him and left him unattended until Sunday. 

According to Matthew, some of the other Temple authorities worried that Jesus' disciples might try to steal his body from the tomb, so they had Pilate place guards to watch it through the Sabbath. 

Why did they think Jesus' Disciples would steal His body? They abandoned Him at His arrest. They hid themselves to save their own lives because they knew that it was customary to crucify all the insurrectionist followers along with their leader. The Temple authorities way overestimated the Disciples' resolve. 

That Sabbath—all day Saturday—must have been the worst day of their lives. I'm sure they didn't sleep well, eat well, and probably feared they would never get out of Jerusalem alive. I'm sure they spent most of the day making plans to sneak away as soon as possible, but some of the women were going to make sure Jesus' body had been properly taken care of before they left. That brings us to our Easter text. 

John 20: 1-10

1 Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” 3 So Peter went out with the other disciple, and they were going toward the tomb. 4 Both of them were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5 And stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, 7 and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself. 8 Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9 for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead. 10 Then the disciples went back to their homes.

THE TOMB

The women go before daylight to tend in some way to the body of Jesus. Perhaps this is their last errand before rejoining the men and leaving town together. In any case, it’s hard to imagine them wanting to stick around any longer—nothing good awaited them in Jerusalem. Seeing the stone rolled away, the women panic and run back to the hideout. 

Peter and John, emboldened by this weird event, throw caution to the wind and run to the tomb. They certainly loved Jesus, and even though they were afraid, they were not going to let Jesus’ body become a mockery. They get to the tomb, go in, and find Jesus’ shroud and sudarium—the face cloth—neatly folded and set aside. Though there’s nothing there—no Jesus—John puts two and two together, and he has faith that God is at work. 

Question: who could have removed the body? Was it the Disciples? No, they were baffled to learn that the body was not there. What about the Temple authorities—could they have taken His body? No. They had no reason to do so—they, of all people, wanted to be sure that Jesus was dead, buried, and no longer a threat to themselves or anyone else. Could the Romans have done it? They were guarding the tomb, which means they were there. Could they have moved it? No. Those guards’ lives were on the line for not doing their job. They, of all people, would want the body in that tomb. 

Furthermore, why would anyone steal the body without the shroud and face cloth? Who would go to the trouble of neatly folding it up? If anyone stole the body, they would have just lifted it out in its shroud, with its facecloth in place underneath the wrappings. 

We’re not going to go into it further here, but I encourage you to find out more about the Shroud of Turin and the Sudarium of Oviedo. Despite what you may have heard, they have not been discredited, and both continue to make a solid witness to the death and resurrection of Jesus. 

Aside from the burial cloths, there is nothing there in the tomb. The empty tomb is beyond dispute, and everyone acknowledges it. The Disciples acknowledge it, not with pride but embarrassment, because Jesus told them about it—told them it was coming—and they didn’t even see it while it happened! The Temple authorities acknowledged it and immediately blamed the Disciples for stealing the body of Jesus. We can imagine them enraged and asking Pilate, “Didn’t we ask you to put guards at the tomb? This is your fault!” The Romans didn’t know what to think, but many, like the Centurion at the cross, would find themselves amazed, and many would come to believe. Many in the world today look at the empty tomb and don’t know what to say about it. “There’s nothing there,” they may say. And they’re right, but not in the way they think they are. There is nothing there in the empty tomb, and that is the miracle. 

AMAZEMENT

The text says, “Then the Disciples went back to their home.” Really? That’s it? Jesus has risen and you’re just going to go home and watch the game? Where’s the amazement? Where’s that holy fear and awe that drives you to purpose?

Is there anything more powerful in this life than that feeling of utter bewilderment and wonder that comes to us—that wonder wherein we look around and think, “What is going on here?” We mean not what events have taken place, but what is this—this entire existence all about? 

There are moments when the Spirit seizes us with awestruck wonder and can make us call the rest of life into question. Have I been asleep? Am I just going through the motions of life like any other animal? What is this light that shines within? Why is it such a joy to exist? 

Amazement can be fearful or fearless. The same can be said of joy. 

Have you ever experienced joy and fear at the same time? We all have. Falling in love can be the source of amazing joy and fearfulness at the same time. Graduations are ceremonies of collective joy and fear—the happy transition of one accomplishment leads to the joyous uncertainty about the future. I felt that strange mix of joy and terror when I asked Tara to marry me nearly 17 years ago. I was so happy for her love and so terrified she might say no, and when she said yes, I was even happier and in some way even more terrified at the same time. Watching Gonzaga play UCLA last night—joy and fearfulness slammed together. 

I suspect that Easter, for the Disciples, was this kind of joy—a fearful joy—excitement, terror, and wonder all rolled up into one. The fearful side of it sent them back home to think, bite their nails, and try to put together what on earth was happening. 

The other kind of amazement comes later—at Pentecost with the Holy Spirit—and it is amazement without fear. Fearless joy. Have you had the experience of joy that is utterly beyond tension, anxiety, and fear? If you have, I’m sure you’re still seeking it. Fearless joy is what the Disciples have after the Holy Spirit is given to them. It feels like conviction—perfect, untainted faith. It feels like wholeness, like peace, like Heaven itself. 

We are all pilgrims between Easter and Pentecost, moving from the fearful joy of witnessing the empty tomb toward the fearless joy of life in the Spirit. It is a wide-awake life lived for God’s purposes rather than our animal autopilot. For us, like the Disciples, everything changes because we’ve stepped into the tomb of darkness and death looking for Jesus and found there is nothing there—the tomb is empty, and that makes all the difference.

Resurrection

Jesus’ body was not left in the tomb. He was not merely resuscitated and returned to his otherwise-normal human life. When He appeared to His Disciples, his body wasn’t crippled over with slowly healing cuts, bruises, and swellings. He appeared to them as the Lord of life, with nail marks in his wrists as deliberate souvenirs. 

Jesus was resurrected, which means He was raised to new life and a new kind of life. His body included His earthly body but was not physically limited. He has a heavenly body that is as physical and real as your body and mine, but one that can travel at will, appearing at will, and one that can, unlike ours, ascend to Heaven. 

Our hope is not in a resuscitated Jesus but a resurrected Jesus. Jesus lives as one whom death cannot hold. God broke the code of death so He can offer us life eternal. Nothing in this world can do that. The cosmos itself cannot promise eternal life, for it, too, is finite and winding down. 

Just as the cross was the crucifixion of all our sin, the resurrection is the total triumph over decay, death, and Hell. Jesus lives, and because He lives, we know He has the power to fulfill every promise. Because He lives, we know what He says is true, right, and good. Because He lives, we know we are never alone. Because He is alive, He is near, and He loves us beyond our capacity to comprehend. 

He calls, do you hear? He reaches for you, are you drawn toward Him? He wants you to know freedom from sin, decay, darkness, and death; will you follow? He is alive! Open your soul to Him, surrender your heart—don’t fight it—He’s only trying to give you total grace, total peace, total joy, and unconditional love. 

The good news is salvation—rescue from darkness and death—in Him is light and no darkness at all. So turn to Him, return to Him—even if you’ve done it before—turn again and let Him lead your life where it’s supposed to go. This is the only path to spiritual fulfillment. 

You don’t have to do anything for it—He does it all for you—just let Him.