66-JosephArimathea-A

And We Thought We Knew You:
Soul Journey With the Real Jesus

Joseph of Arimathea
SLEEPING GIANT

3:30 PM
Thursday, about April 14, AD 30
Jerusalem, Judea

�� "Look at him up there, Priest Joseph.� How long has it been?" Despite the earthquake, he stands in place.

�� "Probably half an hour since he died!" comes the shouted reply.

�� Despite the strong wind blowing his sash across his face instead of neatly down the front of his robe, Priest Nichodemus does not move his gaze from the cross.� "Just leave his body up for the vultures to feed on."

�� "The vultures already have.� I would give anything to undo it all.� To go back and stand up to them more than I did."

�� "As young as he was, he was a giant of a man."

�� "Indeed he was, and we did not deserve to even be in his presence."

�� The two sophisticated men in elegant robes and with their holy regulated tassels and bells at the hem stand side by side, their holy importance no longer important. [1]� They stare endlessly at the deformed, almost unrecognizable, lifeless body of Jesus. [2]�

� �� Some of the Temple hierarchy has gone home, their work completed.� The threat to their religion is no more.� The enemy leader has died, and his threat along with him.� Now life can go back to normal.�

�� But a few stay around to make sure no one steals his body for no telling what.� Gradually the trembling earth calms down.

�� "You stood up for him, Nichodemus, more than I did.� I still remember October a couple years ago you stood up and demanded an open trial for Jesus.� At least it got them off Jesus' back for awhile.� I said nothing." [3]�

�� Silence for a few minutes.� Joseph of Arimathea [4] interrupts his thoughts.

�� "Jesus, what have we done to you?� They betrayed you.� I betrayed you.� We all betrayed you.� I was afraid of the Temple hierarchy just as much as anyone.� The only difference is I AM the Temple hierarchy."

�� "They didn't call either of us to that kangaroo court they held last night," Nichodemus acknowledges understandingly.

�� "Maybe they sensed what we thought we had been hiding."

�� Silence again.� They look over at the small groups of nobodies who seem to be family and friends of Jesus.�

�� "He's from up north, isn't he?" Joseph asks.

�� "Yes.� They couldn't have come prepared with the kind of money necessary for a decent burial.� Even if they had, it is so late in the day, they wouldn't have time to get him to a cemetery."

�� "So, we stand by while they not only murder him, but they throw him into an unmarked criminal's grave...."�

�� "I've been thinking, Nichodemus.� I purchased a cave for my family to be buried in.� No one has been buried in it yet, and I've had time to create a nice garden around it.� It's over there at the bottom of the hill.� I want to bury Jesus in my place."

�� Priest Nichodemus smiles.

�� "Let's do it," Nichodemus responds.� I'll go to the market before it closes and get the myrrh and aloes for his embalming.� Do you think fifty pounds will do?� No, I'll get seventy-five pounds. [5]

�� "I'll get the ladder and other supplies for getting him down off that terrible cross.� We will prepare him ourselves.� Never again will we let the hands of an unbeliever touch him."

�� "You know this will knock us out of participating in the Passover service. [6] But," Priest Joseph adds, "We will be taking care of the true Lamb of God." [7]��

�� The two men face each other now and clasp each other's hands.� But only briefly do they look in each other's eyes, afraid the pain they feel deep down will surface.� They have work to do.

4:30 PM

�� "Sir, a member of the Sanhedrin is here to see you."

�� The procurator throws his wine goblet at the wall.� "Well, I don't want to see him. �Tell him I'm busy.� Tell him I'm passed out drunk.� Tell him I'm on my way to hell."

�� "Pilate, sir, pardon me for showing myself in, but I was afraid you would not want to see me.� I don't blame you."

�� The procurator turns in his chair, looks toward the door, then turns back away.

�� "You're right!� I don't want to see you.� I've had it up to here with your self-righteous lies."

�� "Sir, I didn't vote to have him executed.� I believe the man was who he said he was.� And sir, you didn't condone it either."

�� Curious, the procurator turns back around and looks at the man in his doorway.� "Well then, you're as bad as I am.� We both betrayed him.� He didn't deserve it.� I didn't even deserve to have been in his presence.� That man had greatness in him.� A divine greatness."

�� "Procurator Pilate, I have come to ask for his body." [8]

�� "His body?� What are you talking about?� He's going to suffer the rest of the day, all night, and then if he's lucky, die some time tomorrow."

�� "No, sir!� He died an hour ago."

�� "Are you sure?� That's impossible."

�� "He's used to doing the impossible, sir."

�� Pilate sends for a messenger.� "Someone is claiming that Jesus is already dead.� Of course that can't be.� Go find out and report right back to me."� The messenger leaves and the two men are once again alone.

�� "So you believed the guy."

�� "Yes, sir!� And I still do.� Somehow I still do."

�� "I get your drift."

�� Silence.

�� "But you voted for his execution."

�� "No, sir.� Those of us they suspected were not called to that sham of a court hearing they had in the middle of the night."

�� "Just as well.� You couldn't have stopped them."

�� "I'll go to my death regretting I didn't stand up for him sooner."

�� "Me too, Priest Joseph.� Me too."

�� Several minutes later there is a knock on the door.� It is the messenger.

�� "Back already?"

�� "They broke the legs of the two thieves.� Took them about five minutes to expire.� They didn't want them dying on their religious holy day."

�� "How about Jesus?"

�� "He was already dead.� They put a spear through his side to make sure.� He would have felt it if he'd been alive.� Strangest thing though."

�� "Well, everything else about that man has been strange.� The noon darkness and that earthquake. What next?" [9]

�� "Blood doesn't flow after a man dies.� Both blood and water came out of him." [10]�

�� "Well, since you're sure he's dead, we shall allow Priest....� uh, what is your name?"

�� "Priest Joseph," his guest responds quickly.

�� "We shall allow Priest Joseph to take charge of the body.� Report that back to the centurion."

�� And to the Sanhedrin member, "I want him down and out of public display by sunset."

�� "Thank you, Procurator Pilate."

�� "Uh, where are you taking him?� You don't have much time."

�� "I'm going to bury Jesus in my place, in my tomb."

�� "You really did believe in him, didn't you?"

�� "I still do."

�� Immediately Priest Joseph leaves.�

�� Soon he is untying his white donkey and goes to a friend's house.� A carpenter friend.�

�� "I need to borrow some of your equipment and your wagon ~ two ladders, some rope, a crow bar and a hammer.� Oh, and do you have a cot I can borrow?"

�� The friend complies without question.� He thinks he knows why but is too afraid to ask.� Joseph maneuvers the wagon and ox around and heads back out of town to execution hill. [10]

�� "Let me through," he tells a guard where the public road stops.� I'm taking charge of Jesus' body."

�� "Excuse me, sir," the young guard inquires mischievously, "but aren't you part of the Sanhedrin?� Got something exciting in mind for the body?"

�� Priest Joseph is incensed.� "Sir, you will show respect for the dead.� Especially this man.� You and I are not worthy to even be in the presence of his dead body!"

�� "Yes, sir!"� The soldier stands back, salutes smartly, and waves the priest on.

�� Priest Joseph looks up at the top of the hill.� It is growing dark.� The bodies on the crosses.� They look so cold.� He directs the ox to scale the hill until he is close to the three crosses.� He gets out, pulls out the ladders, and looks around for his friend, Priest Nichodemus.

�� At first, all he notices is the small group of women which is apparently all that is left of Jesus' friends and family.� He walks up to them. [11]

�� "Ladies, my name is Priest Joseph."� He clears his throat, having embarrassed himself by using his self-righteous title in the presence of Jesus.�

�� "You are his friends, aren't you?� Don't worry about any abuse to his body.� My friend and are wealthy, and we will take care of him.� We will take him over to my tomb in the garden down there." [12]� His voice is a reverential whisper.��

�� "Uh, priest sir, can we go with you?� We just want to know where you're burying him," one of the women replies.

�� "Indeed, you may.� And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry.� You have no idea how sorry I am."

�� The women smile slightly amid their tears.

�� Priest Joseph turns and looks around once more.� He notices the other chief priests and theologians standing at some distance from the women, but watching his every move.� He stares at them undaunted.

�� Then he sees a camel approaching.� He knows it is Priest Nichodemus with the load of spices, and walks in that direction.

�� "Did you get everything that was required?"� Still their voices are reverentially quiet.

�� "Yes.� It's all here."

�� "Well, let's do it."

�� Nothing more is said.�

�� Each takes a ladder and sets it up by Jesus' hands, outstretched to embrace the spikes and outstretched to embrace the world.� In silence they tie the rope around one arm and the cross beam, then over to his forehead, and finally over to his other arm.� They must make sure his body does not fall forward when they loosen the spikes.�

�� Priest Joseph climbs down his ladder, gets the crowbar and hammer, and climbs back up with them.� Carefully he positions the crowbar so it does not touch Jesus' arm and crush it.� He places one end of the crowbar at the head of a spike, then hits the other end with his hammer.� The spike comes out a little.� Again and again he hammers at the crowbar.�

�� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....

�� They hear the clang of the spike as it falls and hits a rock on the ground, clanging hypocritically like a Temple cymbal.

�� The hammer and crowbar are handed over to Priest Nichodemus who does the same thing.

�� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....

�� Again the sound as the spike gives up its captive and falls uselessly to the ground, its despicable work completed.

�� The hands of both men are rusty from having touched the spike that had performed such evil.� The hands of both men now touch the hands of the savior.� Their hands now have on them the blood of their savior's hands.

�� "The blood of the Lamb," Priest Joseph whispers. [13]

�� He climbs down off his ladder and kneels before the cross.� Priest Nichodemus hands him the crowbar and hammer.

�� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....� Clank....

�� Little by little the third stake is freed, and it too falls to the ground rusty and useless.

�� Priest Nichodemus picks up the last stake and holds it in his hands. �"We did this to him.� Drove it right through his heart...."

�� His friend does not reply.� He only looks at him in affirmation.�

�� Now the two look up into the face of Jesus for the first time since his death.� His head is bowed, as if in prayer.� He is not the Jesus they remembered.� Not the Jesus of yesterday.� It is hard to detect much of anything behind all the blood and swelling.� And by now his body has turned blue from the lack of oxygen. [14]��

�� Next Priest Joseph reaches up and put his hands under Jesus' shoulders.� Priest Nichodemus slowly loosens the ropes holding the body onto the cross.� And Jesus' body falls slowly down onto him. � He lays Jesus' head on his shoulder, then he walks backward until he is completely detached from the cross.

�� "Oh, I forgot the cot.� It's in the wagon."

�� Priest Nichodemus runs over to get the cot, and Priest Joseph stops once more to realize what he is doing.� He is cradling his savior in his arms.�

�� "It'll only take me a minute to open it up, Joseph."

�� "Wasn't Jesus' father named Joseph?" Priest Joseph whispers.�

�� His friend looks up pensively.� "I think you're right."� He stops what he's doing a moment.� "Cradled at the beginning of his life by a Joseph, and cradled at the end of his life by a Joseph...."

�� Priest Nichodemus finishes unrolling the cot, then gently pulls Jesus' body over onto himself, holding on to his arms, while the other man moves his hands down to Jesus' feet.

�� Jesus' body is now at rest on the cot, but still naked.� Priest Nichodemus takes the blanket that was with the cot and covers Jesus' shame.

�� "What's going on here!� I demand to know what you are doing, Priest Joseph!� You too, Priest Nichodemus!"

�� "Oh, it's you, Priest Matthias.� You'd better back up.� You might get your holy hands dirty!"

�� "By what authority...."

�� "By the authority of Procurator Pilate," Priest Joseph interrupts.� "If you don't believe it, go see him yourself.� Of course you know how glad he'll be to see you."

�� "You are making fools of yourselves, you know.� Some of the Sanhedrin is on its way to see for themselves.� You'll pay for this."

�� "Fools for Jesus?� No.� Fools for you and everyone else on the Sanhedrin."

�� "Look at your clothes!� You are a disgrace to your profession.� And you smell to high heaven!"

�� For the first time, the two friends look at each other and realize what they look like.� Their hands, their expensive robe, their hair, their face, covered with the blood of Jesus, the sweat of Jesus, the defecation of Jesus, the holiness of Jesus.

�� "Sir, this is the least we could do.� Now, if you will excuse us, we have a funeral to prepare for."

�� With this Priest Matthias turns and leaves.� Then momentarily he turns and shouts back at them.� "This isn't the last of this.� You'll hear from me again.� You'll hear from all of us.� And you'll pay."

�� "We'll all pay, Matthias!" Nichodemus shouts back.

�� Now the two friends return their attention exclusively to Jesus on the cot.� One takes the front, the other takes the back.� They work their way over to Priest Joseph's wagon.�

�� "Put him on the ground while I prepare the wagon bed."

�� Joseph takes off his royal robe and places it in the bottom of the wagon.� Once Jesus' body is in the wagon, Nichodemus takes off his own robe and places it over Jesus.

�� One of the women approaches.

�� "You're going to give him a decent burial, aren't you?� Where are you going to bury him?"

�� "Oh, I'm glad you're still here," Priest Joseph responds, having forgotten the last few people left at the cross.� "It's just at the bottom of the hill in that garden.� My tomb is in it.� Now it is Jesus' tomb."

5:30 PM

�� Mary Magdalene motions for the other women. [15]� It is almost dark now, so both men give the women torches to light their way.

�� Nichodemus mounts his camel loaded with the spices, and begins to follow Joseph driving the wagon slowly down the other side of the hill.� He is followed by the women.� Slowly.� Much slower than they need to go.�

�� This is Jesus' funeral procession, world!� Bow your heads in shame.� Reveal your tears in guilt.� Let them mingle with the blood of the Lamb which flowed down the cheeks of God for you.

�� Slowly....� Slowly....� Slowly....

�� The women following behind are numb because they loved him openly for so long.� The men in the wagon are numb because they loved him secretly for too long.� The world that they pass by is numb because it never loved him at all.

�� Minutes later they arrive at an open garden gate and go through it.� Immediately they are in front of a large stone indicating a burial cave behind it.� They stop.�

�� The men push on the stone.� It has been hewn to look like a wheel and has been set in a track for maneuvering.� The men surprise themselves at how strong they really are.

�� Now they go back to the wagon and together they lift out the cot bearing the body of Jesus.� Together they bear him to the cave and inside.� There are several shelves.� They place the cot on the floor next to the closest one, then lift him up to the shelf.

�� Nichodemus quickly goes back to his camel and begins to carry in the embalming supplies.�

�� The women notice water jugs indicating a spring nearby.� Torches in hand, they search only a short distance until they find it.� They fill the jugs and take them into the cave which is now lit by the men's torches.�

�� The women look at Jesus one more time.

�� "You know he's not really in that body anymore," one of them says softly.

�� "We heard him ourselves.� He returned his spirit to his father."

�� "He's asleep at last."

�� "Sweet dreams, Jesus.� Rest in peace."

�� Immediately the men take Nichodemus' robe off of Jesus.� They also take off their already ruined sashes.� Each man begins to wipe Jesus' body as quickly yet gently as he can.� They use them to do preliminary wiping down of Jesus' body.� They periodically dip them in water poured into a basin purchased with the spices.�

�� They turn his body over onto his stomach.� So much filth has caked on him.� As the filth is loosened and the smell escapes, both men go outside into the fresh air to get a breath and take away the nausea.� Oh, Jesus, we're so sorry.

�� Then they return to their work.� Now for Jesus' back and shoulders.� They loosen the crusty blood by trickling water onto the wounds.� They wipe away the blood the best they can, realizing there is no skin left on his back and shoulders.

�� Basins of bloody water are thrown out.� More clean water.� They turn Jesus' body over onto his back and clean the front.� Around his swollen eyes, in his ears, around his cracked lips.�

�� The eyes that beheld people's pain so he could heal them.� The ears that listened to people's confessions of sin so he could forgive them.� The lips that proclaimed freedom from death so he could bring believers back to life forever.� The eyes now forever blind, the ears now forever deaf, the lips now forever silent.

�� "That's the best we can do."

�� "He would understand."

�� The two men now go out to the camel and bring in the spices.� The women, still nearby, want to help.� They bring in the swaddling bands to wrap him in, intermingled with the spices.

�� Carefully one man holds the strip while the other fills it, and gradually work their way round and round Jesus' body until they are up at his head.�

�� They stand up.� They take one last look at their savior, now seemingly asleep.

�� "Good-bye, Jesus.� You did not deserve this.� You deserved so much better.� You never did anything but good, Lord Jesus."

�� "Please, let us see you again in heaven.� Please.� If you can forgive us."

�� With this, Priest Joseph takes the special burial napkin and wraps it carefully and gently around Jesus' head. [16]

6:00 PM

�� "Seems like we should sing a psalm.� How about 'The Lord is my Shepherd'?" [17]

�� In the hush of a sun slipping remorsefully away, they begin their song.� Almost immediately the voices of women join them from outside, then in the cave.

�� "The Lo-rd's my she-pherd, I'-ll not want.� He ma-kes me down to lie." Melancholy voices mingle in utter pathos, drifting through the stone walls of the cold dave."

�� "In pas-tures gre-en he le-ad-eth me, in pas-tures gre-en, he le-ad-eth me, and qui-et wa-ters by."� Disconsolate voices struggle in despondency, floating among the twilight stars of heaven.�

�� All sharing an unbearable sorrow.

�� "Jesus, forgive us," someone whispers.� "We'd didn't know how to stop them."

�� "Jesus, we loved you.� We love you still."� The voice is whispy and almost distant.

�� "Jesus, rest now.� Sweet dreams."� The voice is motherly.

�� Jesus' funeral is over.

�� The small group leaves.� The two men push the stone back into place. [18]

�� "If I can trade with Joseph, ladies, I'll drive the wagon back into the city and drop you off at your rooms," Priest Nichodemus whispers.� He wishes he could do more. [19]

6:30 PM

�� Priest Joseph agrees to take the camel back.� But he does not leave.� He stands there still.�

�� "What's the hurry?" he asks himself aloud.� "The sun is down now.� The holy day has begun, and I am contaminated with the blood of Jesus. [20]

�� "Jesus, I should have tried to do more.� The Sanhedrin thought at first they could use you and your powers.� They wanted your cooperation.� Some even thought they could get you promoted to High Priest by the time you were fifty.�

�� "But you were un-cooperative.� It didn't take them long to realize you could destroy them if you ever wanted to.� They were scared to death of you, Jesus."

�� Joseph of Arimathea, Chief Priest and honorable member of the Sanhedrin, is alone in the darkness.� He sits down in front of Jesus' burial cave.� Dirty, rank, bloody, broken.

�� He looks up at the sky.� The stars.� When did they appear?� It had been so cloudy?� It is as though the stars are all eyes of God.� And all looking at him.� He stands back up.� He raises his clinched fists to God.�

�� "I was a coward!� I was serving them instead of you.� I told my congregation not to believe him.� But I knew all along who he was.� I knew he was somehow God."

�� He turns and looks into a different corner of the heavens.� Still the stars follow him.� The heavenly eyes.

�� "Are you up there, Jesus?� Can you see me?� I took care of the body you left behind.� Does that help a little?� I'll lose my job and be excommunicated by the Temple.�

�� "But it doesn't matter.� You have revealed us for what we are.� Hypocrites.� Every one of us hypocrites.� Jesus!� Lord Jesus!� Lord God Jesus!� You were the Deliverer!� You were the Savior!� We were the traitors."

7:30 PM

�� Priest Joseph stumbles over to the camel.� He gets on it.� He swings the camel's reins around in a frenzy.� He feels like running.� But to where?

�� The sure-footed beast takes his reeling passenger around the bottom of the hill and out to the main road.� He automatically turns toward home.� His head swirls with the memories of the day's awful events.

�� He remembers the darkness at noon.� Nearly as dark as it is now.� But a more terrible darkness.� He remembers the screams from the cross with the terrible spasms.� He remembers the ghastly struggles for breath that would not come, then refused to leave.� He remembers the deafening earthquake at the end.� God's judgment.

�� His camel nearly directs itself.� Presently he arrives at a familiar gate, the gate he had left through just a few hours earlier while it was still light.

�� He bangs on it.� A servant unlatches it and lets him in.� "Greetings, sir.� I'll take care of the camel for you."

�� Joseph goes inside his grand courtyard, picks up an urn and throws it at the wall.

8:00 PM

�� "All this wealth.� And for what?� So I can kill God?"

�� He walks into his study.� He sees on the wall the shelf with all the scrolls of scripture and creeds of the Sanhedrin.� He sees a brand new priestly robe he was saving for a special occasion.� He sees a brand new sash to wear with it.� He yanks them down from the hook and hurls them to the floor in a pile.� He sees his priestly turban, and the phylacteries with scriptures in them to wear around his forehead and arm.� He sees the tassels with bells to remind him of his holy calling.� All worthless.� Meaningless.� Empty.� Those too he grabs off a shelf and throws them on his floor.

�� He slouches into his chair and stares....

9:00 PM

�� A muffled laugh originates from deep in his being.

�� "Man, you really got to us the first time you went to the congregation and defied our traditional rituals right in front of everyone.� You were gutsy, Jesus.� As gutsy as they come.�

�� "You said we weren't keeping the holy day right, then you stood up right in front of us all and sinned intentionally.� But you knew it wasn't a sin to do what you were doing.� We did too.� Deep down we did.� You really showed us up." [21]

�� And he stares....

10:00 PM

�� He goes into the room where the wine is stored.� "Well, Procurator Pilate, I think you had it right.� Drown your sins in drink.� Good idea."

�� He pours himself a drink and toasts it to the air.� "Here's to you Procurator Pilate.� You too, Procurator Herod.� You were the only truthful ones among us, and neither of you even believes in God."

�� He takes a drink.

�� "And here's to you, oh great ones of the Sanhedrin.� Great hypocrites, great frauds, great pretenders.� We're leading the people to hell.� We know it.� The people suspect it.� Jesus even announced it. [22]�

�� And he stares....

Midnight

�� "What is it that prophet Isaiah called us centuries ago?� Pious murderers....�

�� Full of stench before God....�

�� Our evil lights the fires of hell...." [23]

�� And he stares....

2:00 AM

�� "What else did that prophet Isaiah call us?� Legalists with scriptures under one arm and a spiritual whip under the other,obeying all the worship laws right down to crossing the T's and dotting the I's.

�� Quarrellers....

�� Liars and rumor mongers....

�� Murderers, complainers when anyone does good....

�� Lawsuits against the moral, cheating them, defrauding.... [24]

�� And he stares....

4:00 AM

�� "Moses, what have we done to the Sanhedrin you established so long ago?� We've dirtied it with our lust for power.� We've shamed you, Moses.� And God.� We've shamed God...." [25]

�� And he stares....

6:00 AM

�� "How we hated your miracles, Jesus.� Those God-signs.� You could perform them and we couldn't.� Sometimes we pretended we could.� But we all knew we couldn't.� You were the real thing.

�� "We knew it was you or us.� We knew it was just a matter of time and the procurator would make you High Priest.� As soon as he did, we knew you'd get rid of all the hypocrites.� That would have been all of us.� How we feared you." [26]

�� And he stares....

8:00 AM

�� He is back in his study room.� A knock on the door.� And another.� And another.� Incessant knocking.� Priest Joseph does not want his despondency interrupted.� The knocking continues.

�� "Go away!" he finally shouts.

�� "Joseph, it's me, Nichodemus.� Had a rough night?� Me too."

�� "Don't you know it's against religious law to travel more than a mile on a holy day?� What will they think?"� He is being sarcastic.� Nichodemus knows it.

�� "After what we've done, it doesn't matter.� I've got to tell you something."

8:30 AM

�� Joseph grudgingly makes his way to the door and opens it.� Both men stare at each other.� Neither has washed.� Neither has combed his hair or changed his filthy clothes.

�� Priest Joseph says nothing.� He lets his friend in and offers him a goblet of wine with his dirty hands.

�� "Joseph, he said something to me when I went to see him in private one night.� Joseph, listen to me.� Stop what you're doing, and listen to me."

�� Joseph goes back to his chair and sits back down.� He stares into Nichodemus' eyes.

�� "Oh God...."� He is in tears.� His head is down on the table.� "Oh God....� How can you forgive us?"

�� Nichodemus puts his still blood-stained hand on his friend's bowed head.

�� "He told me that God sent his only son into the world."

�� "He was talking about himself, wasn't he, Nichodemus?"

�� "Yes.� And he said that if we are born again we can enter his kingdom of God."

�� "Born again?"

�� "Yes, a spiritual birth with water.� I don't understand any more right now.� But it's hope, Joseph.� It's hope." [26]

�� "You're talking like his work is not yet done," Joseph responds.� He looks over toward the window and stares blankly.�

�� "Death will not stop him, you know."

�� "Somehow I think you're right."

�� "He was too big to stop."

�� "His movement too strong."

�� "He may be sleeping out in his tomb, but he is a sleeping giant."

�� "But maybe ~ just maybe ~ he's not asleep.� Maybe he's waiting for something.� Maybe he's planning something.� Maybe we haven't heard the last of him.�

LIFE APPLICATION

1.�� With all their wealth and power, Joseph and Nichodemus were unable to stop a terrible thing from happening.� Think of something bad that happened in your life which you did not quite have enough power to stop.� Without God, there is no hope of anything better beyond it.� But with God, what kind of hope beyond that event will you grab hold of?

2.�� Though they were unwilling and probably also unable to stop the crucifixion, they did what they could afterwards to try to make up for their weaknesses:� They added dignity to the aftermath of the tragedy.� Regarding question one, what will you do to add dignity to the aftermath of your bad experience?

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