"Personalities of the Passion -- 'Joseph of Armathea -- I Loaned Him My Grave' "

Hi:

My name is Joseph. No not THAT Joseph. You probably don’t know me or even know much about me.

I’m from Armathea, a village in the land of Ephraim, about 20 miles northwest of Jerusalem. The land of Ephraim was the land of Samuel, the prophet, who anointed kings and was instrumental in pointing out the Kingdom of David, our great ancestor.

You might not be able to tell it from looking at me, but I’m well to do. And I’m well known in Jerusalem. I have a fair amount of power and prestige. That power and prestige got me a place on the Sanhedrin, the most powerful religious court in all the land. It put me in a position of having special access to the cemetery where I spent a great deal of money to have my own tomb carved out of the rock. It was solid rock, mind you. The tomb I had dug was mighty nice, if I do say so myself. It was next to a beautiful garden with a full size door. The interior was the height of a full grown man and about 5 cubits (that’s 9 foot or so) square. We, I mean my slaves, took a lot of rock out of that hole. Then we carved a wheel of rock that could be rolled in front of the door to seal the tomb after I had been buried. The wheel, with a circumference big enough to cover the entry door, was about a cubit (20 inches or so) thick. It would roll down a slight incline and be blocked in front of the door. No one would ever be able to mess with my body.

Why, you ask, did I have my own tomb dug? Well, it was a matter of prestige. It was a matter of being able to enjoy talking about it before I got to use it. It was just one more thing to say I am rich and poweful.

But I get ahead of myself here.

I had secretly become a follower of this Jesus fellow. As a Jew, I was longing for the promised Messiah, the coming kingdom. The Romans, of course, were not at all supportive of any “kingdom” talk. And the religious authorities found their positions threatened by one who came from humble beginnings, certainly not the beginnings of the “Messiah.”

But I had different thoughts. I had followed Jesus at a distance. I had listened to his sermons, seen his miracles, and watched how he lived a life of servanthood and love. I knew in my heart, no matter what others wanted to say, that this Jesus was the real deal. Jesus was who he said he was, the Messiah, who had come to the world to usher in a spiritual kingdom over which he would resign eternally.

But, with my membership in the Jewish Court I kept my distance from Jesus. I had to keep all of that to myself. I couldn’t’ go public with what I thought. It would ruin my position.

But here is what I did do. When Caiaphas called that special early morning (illegal) meeting of the Sanhedrin, I didn’t go. I couldn’t have supported the action they were railroading through. I couldn’t have spoken my mind. And even if I had, it would have done no good.

I was powerless to stop what Jesus had talked about as “necessary”, that “the Son of man must suffer and die and be buried.” Of course, he also said that on the third day he would rise. I didn’t know about that if he was buried in my tomb, but that’s another story for another day.

And, while I was powerless to stop the crucifixion, I was bold enough to ask for Jesus’ body so that I could give him as proper a burial as I could, given the late hour. You see, after sundown on the Sabbath, work is prohibited for Jews and since a proper burial took time and is work, I could only wrap him in a nice cloth and lay him in the tomb. We’d come back later and do the rest.

I knew what happened to common criminals. Their bodies were often left unburied, or, at best, hastily disposed of in a dishonored place, like a pauper’s field. Sometimes a relative would ask for, and receive, a body and give it a more proper burial. One had to be careful, though, and get the right permission, one that confirmed that Jesus was dead. Many people had taken bodies from the cross before they had really died and then revived them. I didn’t want that to happen, but, of course, that is what was charged about Jesus’ resurrection).

But I got proper permission; Pilate himself gave it to me. He even summoned the centurion be sure that Jesus had died. The centurion said he had. So I got the body.

I know it was a bold move. But there wasn’t anyone else to do anything. Jesus’ closest followers had left him. They certainly weren’t very bold given the circumstances. And even if they had, no doubt they would have run into resistance.

So it was left to me. And I had the ability to be so bold, with my position and all. Of course, it wasn’t without risk. By the very request I could have revealed my support of Jesus. It could have gotten into some trouble. But, you know, Pilate didn’t want to get himself any deeper into this mess, so he was quick to give permission. He was willing to take this step to distance himself even a bit further from the innocent one who he had a part in sending to the cross.

So, I took it upon myself to take my best linen cloth, wrap up Jesus’ body in a respectful way and lay it in my tomb. I could do no less. Jesus, though he was servant of all, deserved the burial of a King. Jesus had earned a proper, respectful resting place.

Let me tell you. I’m not sure how I got that stone in front of the door. God must have been with me on that one. But somehow I got the tomb sealed up proper.

When I left, I noticed that the two Mary’s had been watching all along. Now isn’t that interesting. The women were the only ones who stayed close to him in his last moments.

Now, the funny thing is, I never got to use my own tomb. When God busted open that tomb for Jesus to come back to life, the stone was moved in such a manner that it would never fit again. Besides, I think it would have been blasphemy for anyone to be buried in the same tomb as the Son of God, the tomb that became empty and useless by the power of the eternal one.

I’ll have a grave some day. It will be just as nice as the one Jesus used. But it too will eventually be empty and uselwess Jesus promised that he would overcome the power of sin, death and the grave.

But for now, we lay Jesus to rest in my tomb this Good Friday await the news we long to hear, the news that the tomb is empty.