He was Buried: A Sermon for Easter Even
Thomas Macgill
9781465652782
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
Who has not witnessed a funeral! Who is unacquainted with the emotions that possess the heart whilst carrying the remains of a beloved friend to the grave! And even when we have no interest in the deceased beyond the ties of a common humanity, there is a majesty in death itself that overawes the mind, and the gloomy pomp that proclaims death’s triumph arrests the thoughtlessness of man and repeats to him the lesson of the Bible—“The grave is thine house, and thou must make thy bed in the darkness.” Who has not felt his curiosity awakened when some splendid train of mourners has passed by, declaring by the parade in which corruption sits in mockery, how noble, or how renowned, or how rich the victim on whom the hand of the destroyer has fallen, and how utterly vain and empty are all human glories. And who has not experienced a hallowed sympathy when he has met a little band hurrying towards the churchyard all that is mortal of some friendless man, who lived unknown and died unbewailed, and who now seems to be stealing out of a world that had scarcely acknowledged his existence,—yet declaring in his undistinguished departure that “death has passed upon all men, because all have sinned.” To-day I invite you to contemplate the funeral ceremonies of the Prince of Life, of Him who lay down amid the mansions of the dead, that by dying He might destroy death and him that had the power of death. The mourners on this mysterious occasion were few in number. The Lord whom all despised, and who had no home in which to lay his head in life, could scarcely attract around him in death as many as could carry him from the cross to the grave. His disciples, with one honoured exception, had all disappeared in shameful flight. A few women, with tearful sympathy, lingered to mark the spot where their Lord should be laid, and assisted Joseph and Nicodemus to perform the last offices to the crucified Immanuel. These two persons were men of considerable distinction in Judea, rich and honourable, and members of the great council of the nation. Of Joseph it is written that he was “a good man and a just.” Of Nicodemus we read that he was a ruler of the Jews, a public teacher, “a master in Israel,” but of a remarkably timid disposition. Three years before this sad day he had visited Jesus under the cover of night, and received instructions in the mysteries of the kingdom of God, but he had never yet openly avowed his attachment to Messiah. The world’s frown, the dread of its reproach, the certainty of its persecution, had deterred both Joseph and Nicodemus from confessing Christ before men. But his death, the event that encreased the peril of his disciples, had the effect of dissipating all their fears, and constrained them openly to profess their respect to the Lord. With a boldness which defied all danger they begged from Pilate the body of Christ, that it might not be cast into a malefactor’s grave, but entombed with such honour and distinction as circumstances would allow. The earnest desire of such a person as Joseph was not to be refused, and agreeing, as it doubtless would, with Pilate’s own feelings respecting one whom he had pronounced innocent, the request was at once complied with.
