The Garden-Sepulcher.
IN a previous paper on the raising of the young man at Nain we saw that the gracious and compassionate act of the Lord effectually stopped the funeral procession at the gate of the little city. He who had been dead went not to the “house of silence,” but to his home again in company with his mother, whose widowed heart the Lord had made to sing for joy; but He, whose love and power had wrought this, was Himself going on to death, and to burial — He, the Prince of Life, was to be taken by the wicked hands of men, and slain, even as the Scriptures had said; He was to be buried, but — God be praised! — He was to rise again, also according to the Scriptures.
We turn now to the subject of sepulchers, especially as connected with the tomb of the Lord, and take up the Gospel narrative at the point where that honorable counselor, Joseph of Arimathwa, besought the body of the Lord from Pilate. The request was granted. Associated with Joseph was another Sanhedrist, Nicodemus, who, like himself, had been a secret disciple of Jesus. But the time for secrecy is past, for then as now, the cross is the revealer of the thoughts of men’s hearts, and Christ being dead, they boldly confess Him in whom alive they had only secretly believed. They take the precious body, and doubtless bear it at once to the sepulcher. They had not far to go, for the sepulcher was in the place where Jesus was crucified; moreover, the day was fast closing, and the Sabbath drew on. With some haste, therefore, the last sad rites were performed; a napkin was put about the head; the body, anointed with the sweet spices which Nicodemus had brought, was swathed in cloths of clean and fine linen,and consigned to Joseph’s own new rock-hewn tomb. The customary observances are absent; but we do not miss them, they are better away. To those who believed that Jesus was the Christ, the sound of flute and the wail of hired mourners at such a time would be an intrusion. If we take the stand point of man’s sin, no amount of conventional grief could be adequate to the occasion; if we take the standpoint of His love in giving His life for the sheep, we feel not grief but deep, though chastened, joy. As to mourners indeed, how few there were! Here and there a faithful heart which, like Mary’s mourned the loss of the beloved Lord, or, like the two disciples who on the Emmaus road saw all their hopes for Israel dashed to the ground. But this was all, and the day of mourning is yet to come, when, as a man mourning for his only son, they shall mourn for Him whom they pierced.
How wonderfully was the Scripture fulfilled in this matter of the sepulcher: “He made His grave with the wicked, and with the rich in His death.” This especially strikes us if we remember how the robbers crucified with the Lord at once part company when taken down from the cross. They were carried away to one of the two burial-grounds for criminals which existed at Jerusalem: He, though dying a criminal’s death was laid in the rich man’s tomb. The poorer classes had not their private tombs We read that Josiah cast the powder of the burnt grove [Asherah] upon “the graves of the children of the people,” and that the dead body of Urijah was cast into “the graves of the common people.” To such a common burying-ground the procession from Nain seemed to be journeying. But the moderately well-to-do, and especially the rich, prepared beforehand the place of their burial, and the sepulcher of the wealthy Sanhedrist becomes the resting-place of the Lord, contrasting strongly with the surroundings of His birth, when the cattle “crib” was His cradle.
What is the tomb like? As we draw near, we find ourselves in a “court,” prescribed by traditional law to be six cubits (about nine feet) square. Here, on ordinary occasions, rest the bier and bearers upon their arrival. From this “court” the cave, which might be six or eight cubits long, four or six cubits wide, and four cubits high, opens.
Running from the sides into the rock are niches (called kûkin) for the bodies, each about four cubits long, with a height of seven, and a width of six, handbreadths. In the smaller tomb would be niches for eight bodies, in the larger for thirteen. These are ordinary tombs, but a man might construct one for himself containing only one niche. But by the expression “wherein was never man yet laid” it seems to be pointed out that Joseph’s tomb was constructed in the ordinary fashion.
Here then the sorrowing disciples deposit their precious burden and roll the large stone (called golel) to the door of the vault. Mary Magdalene and others watch from a distance. Then the men depart for the Sabbath is near. The women also go, to a labor of love — the preparation of fresh spices for a more formal anointing.
On the next day, Jewish suspicion calls to mind the words of Jesus that He should rise from the dead. So the chief priests and Pharisees seek the command of Pilate that the sepulcher might be made sure until the third day. Without many words Pilate bids them go, make it as sure as they can, and though it is the Sabbath day, they (while the disciples “rested according to the commandment”) throw to the winds their punctiliousness, and seal the golel, either where it touched the rocky walls, or more probably, where a smaller stone (dophek) was customarily placed against the golel. A guard was also mounted in the “court.”
The Sabbath passes, the third day comes, and according to Jewish law the friends might visit the tomb. It was on this day — so the common belief ran — that the spirit, which had been hovering about the body, finally departed. At day-dawn — indeed bore the darkness had fled from the morning light, the faithful Magdalene is at the tomb. The golel is rolled away! With hasty steps she speeds to Simon Peter and to John. “They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulcher, and weknow not where they have laid Him.” Together run the two disciples, John outstripping Peter, and passing through the little court, he stooped and looked into the chamber. He went not in, but Peter, following, entered. Jesus was gone. No sign of hasty removal was there; all was orderly, the clothes lying and the napkin rolled up. Then entered John, who saw and believed. But, he adds in his gospel, they knew not the Scripture, that Jesus must rise from the dead. And they go home again.
What had happened? Who had moved the stone? Was Mary’s surmise right — that someone had taken away the body? The first gospel tells us. There had been a great earthquake, and an angel of Jehovah had descended from heaven, rolled away the stone, and sat upon it. The Lord had risen! And “to have left the stone there, when the tomb was empty, would have implied what was no longer true.” And when the women laden with spices came, they found every hindrance which they had anticipated gone. Then entering, they hear from angel lips, that Jesus the Nazarene who was crucified, was no longer there; He was risen: “Come, see the place where the Lord lay.”
They departed, and Mary Magdalene, who had hurried away upon seeing that the stone was moved, returned. She stood outside the sepulcher weeping. Everything was against her: her Lord crucified; and now that she would have relieved her sorrowing heart in caring for the precious body, that too was gone! Stooping down, she gazed intently in, but did not discern, or her pre-occupied mind did not take in the full meaning of the fact, that they were angels who were sitting there, “Why weepest thou?” they asked. “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.”
Then she turned; it was no place for her, where Jesus, even though dead, was not. She turns and meets Him whom she sought, though she knew Him not. “Why weepest thou?” He likewise asks. “Sir, if thou have borne Him hence—”; but the word “Mary,” in His well-known accents, tells her that it is her Master — “Rabboni!”
Thus her patient, waiting love was rewarded. Jesus was raised again, for it was not possible that Death should hold Him; no corruption could assail Him; nor could Hades detain His spirit. The bitter cross was over, and now, truly a conqueror, He reveals Himself first of all — not, as we should imagine, to the chief of the apostles, but — to a weeping, despairing woman, whose love had kept her near Him, though it might even be as He lay in the tomb.
And is it not so now: that He makes Himself known, not because of great gifts, or abilities, or position, but where there is a heart set upon Himself?
Jr.