“People to meet in heaven: Joseph of Arimathea”
Mark 15:42-47
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
In the late 1400s, Michelangelo had already carved a number of works of art, like Madonna of the Stairs, Bacchus and Hercules. But he was young and still rather unknown, so he left Florence to visit Venice and Rome.
That’s when a French cardinal asked him to sculpt a memorial for his tomb, to display in a chapel in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.
He took a single block of Italian marble, which, he said, was “the most perfect block of marble he ever used.” And over the next two years, he crafted the Pieta.
Can you see it in your mind? Mary is seated on a rock, cradling the lifeless body of her Son, Jesus, in her arms. Her head leans forward in deep sadness and resignation. Her right hand tenderly supports His back. Her left seems to ask the question, “Why?”
And see Jesus resting in her arms. His head leans back. His foot hangs in midair. Wounds pierce His hands, His feet and His side.
And all this seems to say, “This is the path of salvation. This is God’s sacrifice for mankind, my sacrifice of my Son that makes possible your redemption.”
No wonder he called it, Pieta, a word that means, “pity.”
Let me take you back for a moment this morning, to Calvary, to see the lifeless body of Jesus. He’s already spoken from the cross seven times and committed His life into His Father’s hands. A veil has torn, the earth has shaken and tombs are opened wide. Even a nameless centurion, and those who were with him, couldn’t help but praise God and say, “Surely, this Man was the Son of God.”
Now, in the words of Mark chapter 15, we hear what happened next. If you would, please turn with me in your Bible to page 1085. I’ll read where it says, “Jesus is Buried,” beginning at chapter 15, verse 42: “And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Pilate was surprised to hear that He was already dead. And when he learned from the centurion that He was dead, he granted the corpse to Joseph. And Joseph bought a linen shroud and laid Him in a tomb that had been cut out of the rock. And he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where He was laid.”
Each Sunday, as we gather for worship, we stand and confess the words of the creed. We say, “I believe in Jesus Christ, His only-begotten Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, died and was buried.”
If you think about it, that’s a very curious phrase—“crucified, died and was buried.”
Now it’s easy to understand why we say Jesus was crucified and why we say He died. But why do we say, “buried”? You’d think they would all go together. Jesus was crucified, died and was buried.
But you know, when men wrote the words of that creed, there was something very important they wanted us to know. They wanted us to know that Jesus was really dead. As one author put it, “The grave is an amen which every human must utter when death comes.” And as another put it, “Christ would not be a complete Savior if He had not descended into the grave.”
Study the history of the Christian church, and you’ll discover that, from the very beginning, when critics and skeptics have attacked Christianity, they’ve claimed Jesus never really rose from the dead. Some say He never really even died.
But these words from Mark 15 put an end to all of that. In fact, if you say the words quickly enough, they sound like a hammer sealing a coffin’s lid: “Crucified…dead…buried.” If there’s any question at all whether or not Jesus really died, then come to the garden tomb.
Imagine how it must have been. Though men declared Jesus innocent time after time, still the chief priests, Annas and Caiaphas, murdered the sinless Son of God. And, at the same time, trying to appear so holy, they scrupulously avoided any kind of ceremonial uncleanness. And having men hanging on crosses at Passover, just outside the city wall, was a defilement. Something had to be done. Bodies couldn’t just be left hanging there. They must be taken down.
But what if they weren’t dead? Victims could linger for days!
The Romans had an easy solution. They took an iron bar and smashed it across their legs, making it impossible for them to push themselves up for air. So death came, not within hours, but seconds.
And when they came to Jesus, they saw that He was already dead. The soldiers were, after all, expert executioners. They killed for a living. So just to be sure, without the shadow of a doubt, one took a spear and rammed it into His side. Blood and water flowed.
So now, what to do with His body? Who would take it? Who would bury it? And where would they lay it to rest?
By this time, most every one of Jesus’ disciples was out of sight, keeping their distance lest they suffer the same fate. Now was not the time to be associated with One who was crucified. And to make matters worse, the Sabbath was about to begin, so time was quickly running out.
But there was a problem. The Jews had handed Jesus over to Rome, so, in effect, His body belonged to Rome. But what would Rome want with some Jew disowned by His own countrymen? Certainly Pilate wouldn’t give anything more than a pauper’s grave.
That’s when, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, we meet a man named Joseph of Arimathea.
Look again at the text. Verse 42: “And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus.”
Joseph of Arimathea, it says, “a respected member of the council.” That’s interesting. Or rather, I should say, it’s amazing.
You see, when Mark wrote, “the council,” he meant, the Sanhedrin, the ruling council, the supreme court of the Jews. These men were the best of the best in all the land of Israel who knew, respected, and obeyed the Word of God. In all matters of blasphemy and idolatry, this was the court of last resort. And Joseph of Arimathea was a member.
Even more, Mark wrote, he was a “respected” member, a prominent member, an honored member. Men sought out his wisdom and advice.
But all this is so strange. When the high priests bribed Judas to betray his Master, Joseph did not consent. When Caiaphas said, “It’s better that one Man die for the people, than that the whole nation should perish,” Joseph did not consent. When they sent armed troops to arrest Jesus in the garden as if He were a desperate and deadly criminal, Joseph did not consent. When they conducted an illegal trial, when they played on the passions of the people, inciting them to violence, when men led Him out to the place of the skull to be nailed to a Roman cross, then stripped Him and hung Him for everyone to see, Joseph did not consent.
As John records in his gospel account: “Now Joseph was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly because he feared the Jews.”
But while he hid in the shadows throughout Jesus’ life, he would stand by Him in His death. So bravely, boldly, he asked for the body of Jesus.
Now we don’t know exactly what happened next, but we can guess. Carefully and lovingly, he took Jesus’ body down from the cross. He untangled the thorny crown from His head, then drew the nails from His hands and feet. Then he washed Jesus’ body from head to toe—all the sweat, the dirt and the blood.
And as he turned His body back and forth, wrapping it in a fine linen cloth, he couldn’t help but see the torn, mangled flesh of His back, shredded by the scourge. He saw His face, swollen, slapped and spit on, beaten beyond recognition. He saw His head, struck with a rod, and His lips, cracked and parched, lips that refused, till the very end, to drink the sour wine.
It was dirty, soiled and bloody. It was limp and heavy. And it was defiling, for now Joseph was ceremonially unclean.
And nearby, added John, there was a garden, and in that garden, a tomb.
It’s strange if you think about it. Near the place where Jesus was crucified wasn’t a pit or a slum, but a garden—a place for flowers and birds, fruit and vines, where one could sit and rest from the cares and troubles of the day.
How strange, yet how appropriate, for it was by these words that a prophecy was fulfilled. As Isaiah wrote: “He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in His death, though He had done no violence, nor was any deceit found in His mouth.”
So why did the Bible tell us so much about the burial of Jesus?
Three things--one, to prove that He really died; two, to show us that God will not forsake us when we die; and three, to show the true cost of our salvation. Jesus loved us not only to the cross, but all the way to the grave.
John Wilbur Chapman was a nineteenth century preacher and evangelist, who travelled around the world to tell others of Christ, to places like Australia, Hong Kong, China and the Philippines. In 1895, Dwight L. Moody called him, “The greatest evangelist in the country.” He died on Christmas Day, 1918.
And over his fifty-nine years of life, he served six different churches and wrote a number of books like, Present Day Parables and From Life to Life.
And in 1910, eight years before he died, he wrote a song. Part of it went like this: “Living, He loved me; dying, He saved me; Buried, He carried my sins far away; Rising, He justified freely forever; One day He’s coming—O glorious day!”
How great is Your love for us, dear Father, for You have sent Your only Son. Grant us the grace to rest on Him, for He is our Redeemer, Savior and Lord. This we ask in His name. Amen