Funerals are often unpredictable things. I had a meeting planned for Thursday this week, but one of the other pastors that we were supposed to be meeting with contacted us a few days before and asked if we could move it up, because he had a funeral on Thursday.
Have you ever considered how strange it is
to keep a dead body around for a few days while you organise the funeral? When
I first started as pastor here one of the funeral homes got hold of my number
and called me a number of times to take funerals, and I discovered that it
would usually be about 3 or 4 days from the time that the person passed away until
the funeral took place. This was all very strange for me since, up to that
point, most of the funerals (or weddings for that matter) that I had attended
had been Muslim ones, and Islam requires the body to be buried within 24 hours.
We can afford to take a few days to organise a funeral because we have
refrigeration, and because, since about the time of the American Civil War, North
Americans have taken up the practise of embalming people when they die. But in
large chunks of the world, that isn’t the case. People are normally buried
within 24 hours of their death. Otherwise you end up with the problem that
Martha had when she explained to Jesus about her brother Lazarus, “But, Lord, by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four
days.” …
We’re almost at the end of Mark’s gospel,
and over the last couple of months, as we have followed Jesus through his final
week in
I don’t know if you’ve noticed it but, since about the middle of chapter 14, the disciples have been notable by their absence. They’ve basically disappeared from the story. The only reference we have to any of the disciples in the run up to the crucifixion is when Mark tells us how Peter denied that he even knew Jesus.
In the end Jesus is alone. Even his cry from the cross “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” is a cry of desolation and loneliness. The only people who are involved in his final hours are strangers (like Simon of Cyrene who carried the cross, and the crowd who mocked him or were curious to see what would happen) and enemies (the Sanhedrin, Pilate, the Roman soldiers.)
And yet, even though he was deserted by his closest friends and disciples, there were still people among his “enemies” who recognised something unique about him. Last week we looked at Jesus’ crucifixion through the eyes of the centurion who had command of the execution detail and who said, as he saw Jesus die, “Surely, this man was the Son of God.”
But there was another man involved in Jesus’ death; one who would also have been considered as his “enemy” but who acts with compassion.
42 It was Preparation Day (that is, the day before the Sabbath). So as
evening approached, 43 Joseph of Arimathea, a prominent member of
the Council, who was himself waiting for the
It says that Joseph of Arimathea was a prominent member of the very same council that had tried Jesus at midnight and condemned him to death. And yet, here he is, asking for Jesus’ body so he can bury it. Mark doesn’t tell us if he was there for the trial. John says he was a secret disciple. Luke tells us that, although he was a member of the council, Joseph had not consented to their decision to execute Jesus.
What Mark does tell us about him is
that he was “looking for the
So, although he was a member of the
governing council and had some stake in maintaining the status quo, he still
hoped and longed for something better. He was looking for the
And so, Joseph takes it upon himself to arrange for a decent burial for Jesus; which brings us back to the topic of funerals.
People are very sensitive about what
happens to bodies after death. The
The Old Testament teaches a deep respect
for dead bodies of all kinds, but especially for the bodies of people. That’s
what you would expect. Since the Bible teaches that we are made in the image of
God, you would expect it also to teach deep respect for human bodies, even in
death. And that respect is extended to those executed under the law.
Deuteronomy 21.22-23 says, 22 If a man guilty of a capital offense is put to death and his body is
hung on a tree, 23 you must not leave his body on the tree
overnight. Be sure to bury him that same day, because anyone who is hung on a
tree is under God’s curse. You must not desecrate the land the Lord your God is giving you as an
inheritance.
It would have been deeply offensive to the
people of
That took courage.
It took courage to ignore the opinions of his fellow council members. Religious Jews or not, they would have been happier if someone other than one of their own had taken care of the body. In fact, it’s one of the marks of authenticity to the gospel stories that the disciples are nowhere to be seen. If Mark had been making this up, I’m sure he would have had some of the disciples caring for Jesus.
There is a common artistic depiction of Jesus’ death called a Pieta, in which Jesus’ mother Mary is pictured holding his dead body, often accompanied by others. [Show Michelangelo’s Pieta.] It’s all very touching, except that there is no basis for it in the text. Mark tells us that there are some women standing off in the distance who note where Joseph takes Jesus’ body, but Jesus’ friends have all run off. They’re all too afraid to be identified with him, even in his death. It’s left to a stranger, from the group that actually executed him no less, to treat his body with dignity and bury it as the law required.
And it took courage for Joseph to go to
Pilate and ask for the body of a man executed as a political subversive. Mark
says as much, 43 Joseph of Arimathea… went boldly to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body.
It’s not like Joseph was a family member or anything; just some random stranger. I can hear Pilate’s questions now. “What has a random stranger to do with a dead insurgent?” “Maybe you’re part of his group?” “Why shouldn’t I arrest you and interrogate you?” “Maybe I’ll find out more about this whole thing.”
It took courage for Joseph to identify with Jesus in his death. It still takes courage to identify with Jesus; with the real Jesus of the gospels, not the sappy Jesus of romantic Christianity. The Jesus who was such a thorn in the side of the establishment that they had him executed. The Jesus who both accepted the woman caught in adultery and told her to change her lifestyle.
But remember who Joseph is. He’s one of the “bad guys.” Or at least that’s how we would expect to label him.
We do that don’t we? We clump people into groups and label them, “good” or “bad.” It makes the world easier to manage if we can just categorise people. Of course who’s good or bad depends very much on where you stand. If you’re an environmentalist, then industrialists are the bad guys, messing up the environment. If you’re an industrialist, then the environmentalists are the bad guys, making it more difficult for you to run your company. The same goes in politics; left wing against right wing, or business against labour.
But here we have this strange scene with three men discussing what to do with Jesus’ body.
44 Pilate was surprised to hear that he was already dead. Summoning the
centurion, he asked him if Jesus had already died. 45 When he
learned from the centurion that it was so, he gave the body to Joseph. 46 So
Joseph bought some linen cloth, took down the body, wrapped it in the linen,
and placed it in a tomb cut out of rock. Then he rolled a stone against the
entrance of the tomb.
It’s so matter of fact. Joseph goes to Pilate and asks for Jesus’ body. Pilate’s response is, “He’s dead already?” and he sends for the centurion to confirm it. The centurion comes, and so we have in one room; a member of the council that accused Jesus to the authorities, the man who condemned him to death, and the man who carried out the sentence. These are the bad guys! If this was an old western they’d all be wearing black hats. They’re the villains!
And yet…
Last week we saw how the centurion responded to Jesus’ death, “Surely this man was the Son of God.”
And this week, here is Joseph of Arimathea, risking his reputation among his peers, and risking his own his freedom, just so that he can give Jesus a decent burial.
We like to divide the world up into “good guys” and “bad guys,” invest in one group and write the others off. But we can’t afford to do that, because life isn’t that simple, especially when we think about the gospel. For two reasons
One reason is that, as the old preachers
used to say, the ground is level at the foot of the cross. Jesus is the great
equaliser. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done, we’re all equal
at the foot of the cross. To borrow some lines from Larry Norman, the father of
Christian rock: You can be a righteous
rocker, or be
a holy roller / You
could be most anything, / You could be a Leon Russell, or a super muscle, / You could be a
corporate king, / You
could be a wealthy man from Texas, or a witch with heavy hexes, / You could be a
brilliant surgeon, or a sweet young virgin, / or a harlot out to sell, / You could learn to play the blues, or be Howard
Hughes / or the scarlet pimpernel, / Or you could be a
French provincial midwife, / or go from door to door with a death-knife,
It doesn’t make any difference at the foot of the cross. We all come on the same terms, as sinners needing to be forgiven.
That’s really offensive to many people. There has to be some kind of reward for being “nice” people. The centurion should have resigned his commission. Joseph should have left the Sanhedrin. Then they could respond to Jesus. There’s this idea that folks have to get their lives sorted out and then come to Jesus.
But Jesus meets us where we are. Wherever that is. Even if it is as part of the detail that actually executed him, or as part of the council that condemned him. At the peak of success, or in the depths of despair. In a corporate board room or a prison cell. Jesus has a way of drawing people to himself.
And because Jesus has this way of drawing people to himself, we don’t know who he’s working in, or how they are responding in their hearts.
I can imagine the disciples writing off the
centurion and Joseph as people to watch out for, not people who would be drawn
to Jesus and looking for the kingdom. That happens in Acts when Paul is
converted. God speaks to a guy names Ananias and tells him to go and pray for
Paul, who’s been struck blind by his encounter with Jesus. And Ananias
responds, 13 “Lord, I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has
done to your saints in
“Are you sure you have the right guy, Lord?
He isn’t really the type of person we want to have in the church here in
Churches make that mistake a lot. There are
a number of churches in
Because we can’t tell from the outside who
God is calling, we can’t write off any person, or any group of people, as
“enemies of the gospel.” That means that we can’t assume that they aren’t
interested in Jesus. They may not be interested in the church, or in
Christians, but as Paul would say, “We don’t preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ
as Lord.” (2 Cor 4.5) And as Jesus himself said “But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will
draw all men to myself.” (John 12.32)
That process of drawing people to himself began on that first Good Friday, even among those who had had a hand in his death.
We don’t know how God is at work, or whom he is at work in. The cross of Christ has a strange drawing power that can make friends out of enemies. If you’re a follower of Jesus here this morning, our task as believers is to be open to God’s work in others, even if they seem the most unlikely people to us, and to cooperate with God’s Spirit in whatever he is doing.
If you haven’t yet decided to follow Jesus, the good news is that it doesn’t matter how high you are or how low, how good or how bad. The ground is level at the foot of the cross, and we are all equally sinners in Jesus’ presence. You can choose to follow him today, hand over the keys of your life and let him sit in the driver’s seat, and in that moment he will call you his friend.