John 19:38-39

FROM COWARDICE TO CONFESSION 1

‘And after this Joseph of Arimathæa, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, besought Pilate that be might take away the body of Jesus: and Pilate gave him leave. He came therefore, and took the body of Jesus. And there came also Nicodemus, which at the first came to Jesus by night.’

John 19:38

What a wonderful incident! Joseph of Arimathæa and Nicomedus—they both desire to bury the Crucified after His death; what a strange meeting it must have been when they met at the foot of the Cross! They belonged to the same class, members of the Sanhedrim. But neither had ever told the other about the influence which Jesus had over him. While Nicodemus had gone by night and talked with Jesus, he had never told Joseph; and although Joseph was a disciple of Jesus, he had kept it secret. Then there came that strange meeting; each was conscious of an attraction, each was drawn to Calvary; and these old friends, who had never known what was going on in their hearts, met at the foot of the Cross. ‘I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me.’ It was a very bold act of these men. Both belonged to the rich and cultured section of Jewish society, while Jesus of Nazareth was only a poor carpenter, and His followers nothing better than fishermen, mostly from despised Galilee. To stand out on the Christ side was to give a slap in the face to that exclusive section to which they belonged; moreover, the decree had gone forth that if anybody acknowledged the claims of Jesus as the Christ he should be cast out of the synagogue. Thus it meant both social and ecclesiastical excommunication, and also the forfeiting of all prospect of ambition. Yet up to the time that Christ died they had not true men’s pluck, they were poor, miserable, pitiable people after all. Ah! but they cannot go on in this way. After all, there was a great deal that was noble about them. They had been brought to conviction; and the one who came to Him by night will have to come to Him by day, and the secret disciple must be an open disciple; because there is a great good God watching over them both, Who means to perfect the work that He has begun. Only, you know, it never gets easier to confess the Christ as you put it off, but it always gets harder. In this case, Joseph and Nicodemus came to confess the Christ just at the very time when He was despised and rejected of men; when to confess Him involved the greatest risk; they had to confess the Christ upon the Cross. The splendour of that courageous act takes away all power of our condemning their previous cowardice. And we can surely sympathise with them in their cowardice; neither you nor I can take a stone and fling at either Joseph or Nicodemus. For we ourselves have been great moral cowards. Yet the position of a man who has religion enough to feel that he ought to be a Christian, but not enough pluck to be one, is most desperate. These men found it so. They felt that life is not worth having, except under the conditions of self-respect—for it is a lie. They came face to face with that magnificent vision of obedience unto death, even the death of the Cross. From this position of compromising knowledge they had been wrought into the boldness of a magnificent confession.

I. Here is our lesson to-day.—Make a distinct and definite act of confession of the Christ. How? Make your Easter communion— the Sacrament. The sacramentum was the oath the Roman soldier took to Cæsar—to the King. Stand out, and take the oath of loyalty this coming Easter Day in sincerity. Do not take it, I implore you, in insincerity, do not make your Easter Communion if you do not mean it, or if you are merely constrained by external influence; for the love of God, do not communicate unless you mean it. Yes, but then you would not be here week by week, would you, if you meant to be like that? If you do not mean to be Christ’s, do not insult Him by taking His Sacrament, but if you do—never mind how weak you are, come and breathe out the love in your Easter Communion; confess Christ.

II. Ah, but there are difficulties you have to get over, you say:—

(1) The first difficulty is this, ‘I dare not.’ Why? ‘Because I am not going to insult the Christ; I am not going to make my Communion on Easter Day and then go back and live according to the world, the flesh, and the devil. I won’t do that.’ Well, but which master are you to serve? ‘Oh, I should like to be Christ’s, of course. I know that my life here would be happier, and that I should be saved from all kinds of perils, and that I should go on my way with a happier conscience, and when I came to die I should find Him with me.’ Then you are going to stand out for Christ? ‘No.’ Why, why? ‘Oh, I should be laughed at.’ Of course you will. You do not think you can serve Christ and not suffer for it? ‘If any Man will be My disciple, let him take up his cross and follow Me.’ I do not want to cheat you; the Cross always involves a certain amount of shame. But do you mean to say that you are going to live a moral coward? Because that is what it comes to—‘I would be a Christian, if I dared.’ A coward cannot be a Christian; you can only be a Christian, you can only be righteous, by being brave. Have then the courage to follow Joseph and Nicodemus, have the courage to come out straight for the Christ, and take Him as your King.

(2) But you say there is another difficulty. It is not that ‘I dare not,’ but ‘I cannot—I lack hope. I have known the most awful longings to be set free from sin, to follow after righteousness. I have resolved, and tried again and again and again, but the same result, and I have lost hope. Can you help me?’ Yes, I can. There is a living Christ with a Hand outstretched to help. Though, like Peter, thou art sinking in the waters of temptation, clutch that Hand, and He will hold thee up. He will safely lead thee through the battle. Thou mayest be wounded, but defeated—never! No one is finally defeated who has grasped the Hand of Christ. Though he fall he shall not be cast away, for the Lord upholdeth with His Hand. For every struggling sinner there is a message of hope; He will enable you to live a fighting life.

Remember, we have nothing to do with the victory. That is in His Hand. What we have to do is the fighting, and to die fighting is to die saved. We cannot command victory, but we can, God helping us, fight, fight to the end. Fight with our lower nature, with this evil world, against the forces of evil, under the blood-red banner of the Cross. Victory will come when and where He will. May God grant that we go each on his way open disciples of the Lord Jesus, fighting bravely without and within the battle of righteousness! If it be so, we shall know a gladsome meeting some day—‘when the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle’s fought and won’—in that fair land where the victors meet for ever, and keep an eternal victors’ peace, and sing the victors’ song in the eternal Easter of the Resurrection Church.

Rev. Canon Body.

Illustration

‘That dread thing, the grave, is itself transfigured. Not only will it be grand, one wonderful day, to have done with it for ever, and to inhabit that great city which needs no cemetery, the heavenly Jerusalem; but even now, while the grave lasts, it is altered, it is transfigured, because in it the silent Lord, in the reality of His human death, lay down before us. I love to think of every Christian churchyard, every Christian grave, as linked spiritually to Joseph’s garden; a sort of extension of it, so that as it were the Lord’s sepulchre—now open to the eternal day—is always one among the sepulchres of His people.’