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VII. JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA

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Bible Reading
[Luke 23: 44-56]
It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun's light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two.

Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, "Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit!" And having said this he breathed his last.

Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, and said, "Certainly this man was innocent!" And all the multitudes who assembled to see the sight, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts. And all his acquaintances and the women who had followed him from Galilee stood at a distance and saw these things.

Now there was a man named Joseph from the Jewish town of Arimathea. He was a member of the council, a good and righteous man, who had not consented to their purpose and deed, and he was looking for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down and wrapped it in a linen shroud, and laid him in a rock-hewn tomb, where no one had ever yet been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the Sabbath was beginning. The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and saw the tomb, and how his body was laid; then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.


Reflection
- The Blood of Christ having been spilled upon the ground of the hill called Golgotha, the ground having shook, the sun having hidden itself in sorrow, all that is left is a corpse nailed to a piece of wood and a dreadful silence. The moment that changed the world.

- Imagine being there in that stillness, watching the crowd slowly disperse after the death of the Messiah. The stillness of a hospital room after the death of a loved one is enough to silence anyone, but here the stillness is different. The body is not sterilized and stretched out on a white bed. It is mutilated and sickening to behold, hanging barely by what strands are left of its construction by splinters and rusted metal nails. But to the wise, to those who have the grace to know, this dead body is united perfectly, even now, to Divinity itself.

- We do not know if this Joseph, a Jewish leader, had any clear idea that Christ was the Messiah he was waiting for. Most likely, after watching him die, he had given up that hope, as did many others, including some of the apostles. But even in this darkness and this doubt, he remembered the word of the Lord: “Thou shalt keep holy the Sabbath day.” No work, no burial on Saturday. The body must come down now. Using his connections, he arranged for the body to be taken down.

- Poetic flare and historical hindsight make it a remarkable scene. Movie makers and sculptors draw out the tenderness of Mary’s touch and tears, the gentleness of John the Beloved, the awe of Joseph of Arimathea, in approaching the Body of their Lord. But if there was ever a time when it was true to say, “blessed are they who believe but do not see,” this was it. The natural eye was blinded by black tragedy. Only the eye of faith could see beauty here, or providence, or meaning.

- Joseph dutifully wrapped the body in a linen cloth and placed it in a tomb. He was a good and righteous man, and he did this good deed out of his goodness and out of respect for the Law of Moses.

- But we have the eyes of faith, and can see more deeply what is happening. The Corpse of the Son of God being taken down after accomplishing the salvation of the world was not an ordinary piece of matter, like any other grouping of molecules anywhere else in the world, and at any other time. This is the Divine Body, drained of its Blood and separated from it; one reverently being taken down from the cross, the other spilled at its foot. How awesome is this place. How powerful. How real.

- There is a similar silence in the Church at night, after all have left. The lights are turned off as the sun was darkened, and the Body of the Lord is reserved in the tabernacle. No natural or skeptical eye could have seen the significance of Christ’s Body being taken down and wrapped in linen. No eye without faith could have known what was happening, and what it was that was being placed in the tomb. But the eye of faith can see the truth, the reality: the Body of Christ that was taken down from that cross is now before us in the tabernacle of the church, except now united both to the Blood and to the Soul of Christ, perfect and complete, mystically present under the appearance of bread.

- How awesome must it have been to take Christ’s Body and wrap it in linen for burial! How reverent must Joseph have been, how trembling his hands! And how should we be when we approach the Eucharist at Communion?

Hymn – Zumare w-Shubahe
Hymns of exaltation, praise and adoration,
humbly now we offer to the Lamb slain for our sake:
in his Body and his Blood our souls have life:
Jesus dwells in and becomes the food of our hearts;
nourishment and gladness, unity’s own binding.
Jesus dwells in and becomes the food of our hearts;
nourishment and gladness, unity’s own binding.

From the grain of wheat stalks, and the grapes of vineyards,
our good Father has prepared a banquet for his Son:
in his Body and his Blood our souls have life:
Voices of the servants chime along the pathways:
“Wear your finest garment, come and share the banquet!”
Voices of the servants chime along the pathways:
“Wear your finest garment, come and share the banquet!”
We have all attended; all have knelt around him:
he the glorious Bridegroom of the courts of heaven:
in his Body and his Blood our souls have life:
We will grow like branches from the Vine of our Lord:
let us plead before him, climbing to perfection.
We will grow like branches from the Vine of our Lord:
let us plead before him, climbing to perfection.

Here the Church, the pilgrim in this world of hardship,
journeys with her eyes set on the banks of heaven:
in his Body and his Blood our souls have life:
It is manna for our hunger; comfort for our pain;
victual for the journey, witness to our rising.
It is manna for our hunger; comfort for our pain;
victual for the journey, witness to our rising.