CHAPTER XXIII.

THE BURIAL

There is a hard and shallow philosophy which regards it as a matter of

complete indifference what becomes of the body after the soul has left

it and affects contempt of all funeral ceremonies. But the instincts

of mankind are wiser. In ancient times it was considered one of the

worst of misfortunes to miss decent burial; and, although this

sentiment was mixed with superstition, there was beneath it a healthy

instinct. There is a dignity of the body as well as of the soul,

especially when it is a temple of the Holy Ghost; and there is a

majesty about death which cannot be ignored without loss to the

living.[1] It is with a sense of pain and humiliation, as if a

dishonour were being done to human nature, that we see a funeral at

which everything betokens hurry, shabbiness and slovenliness. On the

contrary, the satisfaction is not morbid with which we see a funeral

conducted with solemnity and chaste pomp. And, when someone falls

whose career has been one of extraordinary achievement and beneficence,

and who has become

On fortune's crowning slope

The pillar of a nation's hope,

The centre of a world's desire,

then, as the remains are borne amidst an empire's lamentation to rest

"under the cross of gold that shines over river and city," and the

tolling bells and echoing cannon sound over hushed London, and the

silent masses line the streets, and the learned and the noble stand

uncovered around the open grave, it would be a diseased and churlish

mind which did not feel the spell of the pageant.

Thus ought the great, the wise and the good to be buried. How then was

He buried whom all now agree to call the Greatest, the Wisest and the

Best?

I.

The three corpses were taken down towards evening, before the Jewish

Sabbath set in, which commenced at sunset. Probably the two robbers

were buried on the spot, crosses and all, or they were hurriedly

carried off to some obscure and accursed ditch, where the remains of

criminals were wont to be unceremoniously thrust underground.

This would have been the fate of Jesus too, had not an unexpected hand

interposed. It was the humane custom of the Romans to give the corpses

of criminals to their friends, if they chose to ask for them; and a

claimant appeared for the body of Jesus, to whom Pilate was by no means

loath to grant it.

This is the first time that Joseph of Arimathea appears on the stage of

the gospel history; and of his previous life very little is known.

Even the town from which he derives his appellation is not known with

certainty. The fact that he owned a garden and burying-place in the

environs of Jerusalem does not necessarily indicate that he was a

resident there; for pious Jews had all a desire to be buried in the

precincts of the sacred city; and, indeed, the whole neighbourhood is

still honeycombed with tombs.

Joseph was a rich man; and this may have availed him in his application

to Pilate. Those who possess wealth or social position or

distinguished talents can serve Christ in ways which are not accessible

to His humbler followers. Only, before such gifts can be acceptable to

Him, those to whom they belong must count them but loss and dung for

His sake.

Joseph was a councillor. It has been conjectured that the council of

which he was a member was that of Arimathea; but the observation that

he "had not consented to the counsel and deed of them," which obviously

refers to the Sanhedrim, makes it more than probable that it was of

this august body he was a member. No doubt he absented himself

deliberately from the meeting at which Jesus was condemned, knowing

well beforehand that the proceedings would be utterly painful and

revolting to his feelings. For "he was a good man and a just."

We are, however, told more about him: "he waited for the kingdom of

God." This is a phrase applied elsewhere also in the New Testament to

the devout in Palestine at this period; and it designates in a striking

way the peculiarity of their piety. The age was spiritually dead.

Religion was represented by the high-and-dry formalism of the Pharisees

on the one hand and the cold and worldly scepticism of the Sadducees on

the other. In the synagogues the people asked for bread and were

offered a stone. The scribes, instead of letting the pure river of

Bible truth flow over the land, choked up its course with the sand of

their soulless commentary. Yet there are good people even in the worst

of times. There were truly pious souls sprinkled up and down

Palestine. They were like lights shining here and there, at great

intervals, in the darkness. They could not but feel that they were

strangers and foreigners in their own age and country, and they lived

in the past and the future. The prophets, on whose words they

nourished their souls, foretold a good time coming, when on those who

sat in darkness there would burst a great light. For this better time,

then, they were waiting. They were waiting to hear the voice of

prophecy echoing once more through the land and waking the population

from its spiritual slumber. They were waiting, above all, for the

Messiah, if they might dare to hope that He would come in their days.

Such were the souls among which both John and Jesus found their

auditors. All such must have welcomed the voices of the Baptist and

his Successor as at least those of prophets who were striving earnestly

to deal with the evils of the time. But whether Jesus was He that

should come or whether they should look for another, some of them stood

in doubt. Among these perhaps was Joseph. He was, it is said, a

disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews. He had faith,

but not faith enough to confess Christ and take the consequences. Even

during the trial of Jesus he satisfied his conscience by being absent

from the meeting of the Sanhedrim, instead of standing up in his place

and avowing his convictions.

Such he had been up to this point. But now in the face of danger he

identified himself with Jesus. It is interesting to note what it was

that brought him to decision. It was the excess of wickedness in his

fellow-councillors, who at length went to a stage of violence and

injustice which allowed him to hesitate no longer. Complete religious

decision is sometimes brought about in this way. Thus, for example,

one who has been halting between two opinions, or, at all events, has

never had courage enough openly to confess his convictions, may be some

day among his fellow-workmen or shopmen, when religion comes up as a

topic of conversation and is received with ridicule, Christ's people

being sneered at, His doctrines denied, and He Himself blasphemed. But

at last it goes too far the silent, half-convinced disciple can stand

it no longer; he breaks out in indignant protest and stands confessed

as a Christian. In some such way as this must the change of sentiment

have taken place in the mind of Joseph. He had to defy the entire

Sanhedrim; he was putting himself in imminent peril; but he could hold

in no longer; and, casting fear behind his back, he went in "boldly" to

Pilate and begged the body of Jesus.

II.

Boldness in confessing Christ is apt to have two results.

On the one hand, it cows adversaries. It is not said that Joseph got

himself into trouble by his action on this occasion, or that the

Sanhedrim immediately commenced a persecution against him. They were,

indeed, in a state of extreme excitement, and they were seventy to one.

But sometimes a single bold man can quell much more numerous opposition

than even this. It is certain that the consciences of many of them

were ill at ease, and they were by no means prepared to challenge to

argument on the merits of the case a quiet and resolute man with the

elevation of whose character they were all acquainted. It is one of

the great advantages of those who stand up for Christ that they have

the consciences even of their adversaries on their side.

The other effect of boldness in confessing Christ is that it brings out

confession from others who have not had in their own breast enough of

fire to make them act, but are heated up to the necessary temperature

by example. It seems clear that in this way the example of Joseph

evoked the loyalty of Nicodemus.

Nicodemus was of the same rank as Joseph, being a member of the

Sanhedrim; and he was a secret disciple. This is not the first time

that he appears on the stage of the Gospel history. At the very

commencement of the career of Jesus he had been attracted to Him and

had gone so far as to seek a private interview; the account of which is

one of the most precious component parts of the Gospel and has made

tens of thousands not only believers in Christ but witnesses for Him.

It had not, however, as much effect on the man to whom it was

originally vouchsafed, though it ought to have had. Nicodemus ought to

have been one of the earliest followers of the Lord; and his position

would have brought weight to the apostolic circle. But he hesitated

and remained a secret disciple. On one occasion, indeed, he spoke out:

once, when something intolerably unjust was said against Jesus in the

Sanhedrim, he interposed the question, "Doth our law judge any man

before it hear him and know what he doeth?" But with the angry answer,

"Art thou also of Galilee?" he was shouted down; and he held his peace.

Doubtless, like Joseph, he absented himself from the meeting of the

Sanhedrim at which Jesus was condemned; but the injustice done was so

flagrant that he was ready to make a public protest against it. He

might not, however, have had the courage of his convictions, had not

Joseph shown him the way.

Yet this must be praised in Nicodemus, that he was a growing and

improving man. Though he hung back for a time, he came forward at

last; and better late than never. It was a happy hour for him when he

was brought into contact with Joseph. There are many circles of

friends where all are internally convinced and leaning to the right

side, and, if only one would come boldly out, the others would

willingly follow. The hands of Joseph and Nicodemus met and clasped

each other round the body of their Redeemer. There is no love, or

friendship, or fellowship like that of those who are united to one

another through their connection with Him.

III.

Art has described the burial of our Lord with great fulness of detail,

drawing largely on the imagination. It has divided it into several

scenes.[2]

There is, first, the Descent from the Cross, in which, besides Joseph

and Nicodemus, St. John at least, and sometimes other men, are

represented as extracting the nails and lowering the body; while

beneath the cross the holy women, among whom the Virgin Mary and Mary

Magdalene are prominent, receive the precious burden. Many readers

will recall the most famous of such pictures, that by Rubens in the

Cathedral at Antwerp--an extremely impressive but too sensuous

representation of the scene of busy affection--wherein the corpse is

being let down by means of a great white sheet into the hands of the

women, who receive it tenderly, one foot resting on the shoulder of the

Magdalene.

Then there is what is called the Pieta, or the mourning of the women

over the dead body. In this scene the holy mother usually holds the

head of her Son in her lap, while the Magdalene clasps His feet and

others clasp His hands. Next ensues the Procession to the Sepulchre;

and, last of all, there is the Entombment, which is represented in a

great variety of forms.

On these scenes the great painters have lavished all the resources of

art; but the narrative of the Gospels is brief and unpictorial. The

Virgin is not even mentioned; and, although others of the holy women

are said to have been there, it is not suggested that they helped in

the labour of burial, but only that they followed and marked where He

was laid. Joseph and Nicodemus are the prominent actors, though it is

reasonable to suppose that they were assisted by their servants; and

the soldiers may have lent a hand in disentangling the body.

It was in a new sepulchre, which Joseph had had hewn out of the rock

for himself, in order that after death he might lie in the sacred

shadow of the city of God, that the Lord was laid. No corpse had ever

been placed in it before. This was a great gift to give to an

excommunicated and crucified man; and it was a most appropriate one;

for it was meet that the pure and stainless One, who had come to make

all things new and, though dead, was not to see corruption, should rest

in an undefiled sepulchre. Similarly appropriate and suggestive was

the new linen cloth, which Joseph bought expressly for the purpose of

enwinding the body. Nor was Nicodemus behind in affection and

sacrifice. He brought "a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred

pound weight." This may appear an enormous quantity, but custom was

very lavish in such gifts; at the funeral of Herod the Great, for

example, the spices were carried by five hundred bearers.

The tomb was in a garden--another touch of appropriateness and beauty.

The spot does not seem to have been far from the place of execution;

but whether it was as near as it is represented to have been in the

traditional site may well be doubted. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre

includes within its precincts both the Lord's tomb and the hole in the

rock in which stood His cross; and the two are only thirty yards

apart.[3] But it is highly questionable whether the identification of

either is possible. Still, this may be said to be the most famous bit

of the entire surface of the globe. Christendom accepted the

tradition, which dates from the time of Constantine, and since then

pilgrims have flocked to the spot from every land. It was for the

possession of this shrine that the Crusades were undertaken, and at the

present day the Churches of Christendom fight for a footing in it.

We may have no sympathy with the practice of pilgrimages and little

interest in the identification of holy places; but the holy sepulchre

cannot but attract the believing heart. It was a practice of the piety

of former days to meditate among the tombs. The piety of the present

day inclines to more cheerful and, let us hope, not less healthy

exercises. But every man with any depth of nature must linger

sometimes beside the graves of his loved ones; every man of any

seriousness must think sometimes of his own grave. And in such moments

what can be so helpful as to pilgrim in spirit to the tomb of Him who

said, "I am the resurrection and the life"?

In comparison with the great ones of the earth Jesus had but a humble

funeral; yet in the character of those who did Him the last honours it

could not have been surpassed; and it was rich in love, which can well

take the place of a great deal of ceremony. So at last, stretched out

in the new tomb, wherein man had never lain, enwrapped in an aromatic

bed of spices and breathed round by the fragrance of flowers, with the

white linen round Him and the napkin which hid the wounds of the thorns

about His brow, while the great stone which formed the door stood

between Him and the world, He lay down to rest. It was evening, and

the Sabbath drew on; and the Sabbath of His life had come. His work

was completed; persecution and hatred could not reach Him any more; He

was where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.

[1] The most beautiful thing ever said about the bodies of the dead is

in the Shorter Catechism: "And their bodies, being still united to

Christ, do rest in their graves till the resurrection."

[2] On these and similar details see _The Life of our Lord as

exemplified in Works of Art_, by Mrs. Jameson (completed by Lady

Eastlake).

[3] Many interesting details in Ross's _Cradle of Christianity_.

The Trial and Death of Jesus Christ: A Devotional History of Our Lord's Passion · 第 23 / 23 章