Late in the afternoon, a strange thing happened. A member of the Sanhedrin approached the centurion in charge. Someone said he was Joseph, from Arimathea, a town just 20 miles away. He showed the centurion a document, and the soldiers took down the body for him. What was he going to do with it?
We followed him as they carried it to a tomb nearby. Another rich man met him and they worked together quickly, preparing the body; it was almost the Sabbath. They didn’t have time to finish. They had time only for washing and wrapping. They laid His body in a new tomb; it must have belonged to a wealthy family. We watched, and remembered the place. We wanted to come back and anoint the body properly.
We spent a long, cheerless day together. As soon as the sun set, the bazaars opened. Mary the mother of James, Mary the wife of Cleopas, Joanna, Susanna and others of us hurried into Jerusalem and bought the spices we needed to anoint Jesus’ body. We decided to go the next morning, early in the day, when we could go without notice.
We rose in the cold and dark, and set out. The sun was still behind the hills of Moab when we made our way down the dark path to Joseph’s tomb. Someone asked how we would move the stone. That’s right. We had watched Joseph and the others block the entrance to the tomb with a huge stone. How would we ever move it? And there was a report that Roman soldiers had been posted to guard the tomb. What would we do?
But when we arrived at the tomb, we were shocked: The stone was not there, nor were any soldiers to be seen. The stone had been rolled away–taken right out of its trough and tipped over.
Voice of adoration
April 7, 2012 by joyfulpapist