Part 14 (1/2)
Perhaps Joseph and Nicodemus recalled moments in the Sanhedrin when they whispered together, speaking kindly of Jesus, but were afraid to defend Him aloud; thus silently giving a seeming consent to evil deeds because timidity concealed their friends.h.i.+p. But at last the very enmity and cruelty of His murderers emboldened them as they met at the cross.
It is John who tells us that Jesus the night before His crucifixion went ”where was a garden into which He entered,” and who also says, ”Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden.” The one was ever more suggestive to him of a coming trial; the other of that trial past.
”There,” in the garden--probably that of Joseph--John says ”they laid Jesus.” There also were laid John's hopes, which seemed forever buried when Joseph ”rolled a great stone to the door of the sepulchre, and departed.” What a contrast in his thoughts and feelings between the rolling _away_ of the stone from the tomb of Lazarus, and the rolling _to_ that of Jesus. The one told him of resurrection; but the other of continued death; for as he afterward confessed, ”as yet” he and Peter ”knew not that Jesus must rise from the dead.”
Two mourners at least lingered at the closed tomb. ”Mary Magdalene was there, and the other Mary, sitting over against the sepulchre” of their Lord, after they ”beheld where He was laid.” John's parting from them at that evening hour was in sadness which was to be deepened when he met Mary Magdalene again.
It is not easy for us to put ourselves in the place of John, as he turns from the tomb toward his lonely home. _We_ know what happened afterward, but he did not know what would happen, though his Lord had tried to teach him. He is repeating to himself the words he had heard from the cross, ”It is finished,” but he is giving them some difference of meaning from that which Jesus intended. He is walking slowly and sadly through the streets of Jerusalem, dimly lighted by the moon that shone in Gethsemane the night before upon him and his living Lord. We imagine him saying to himself:--”Truly it is finished: all is over now. How disappointed I am. I do not believe He intended to deceive me, yet I have been deceived. From early childhood I looked, as I was taught to do, for the coming of the Messiah. On Jordan I thought I had found Him.
He chose me for one of His twelve, then one of the three, then the one of His special love. What a joy this has been, brightening for three years my hopes and expectations. I have seen Him work miracles, even raising the dead. I have seen Him defeat the plots of evil men against Him, and did not believe any power on earth could destroy Him. I have watched to see Him the great and glorious King. But to-day instead of this I have seen Him crucified as the feeblest and worst of men. I do remember now how Moses and Elijah, when we were with them on the Holy Mount, talked with Him of 'His departure which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.' But I did not understand them, nor even Himself when, just before we ascended the Mount, He told us 'how that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things, ... and be killed.' I do not wonder that Peter then said to Him, 'Be it far from Thee, Lord,'
though the Lord was right in rebuking him. Can it be only last night He said, 'Tarry with Me.' How gladly would I do it now. But He is dead, and buried out of my sight. Oh that I might see Him rise, as I did the daughter of Jairus. Oh that I might roll away the stone from His tomb as I helped to do from that of Lazarus, and see Him come forth. How gladly would I 'loose Him' from His 'grave-bands' and remove the 'napkin bound about His face.' I know it was a mean and shameful taunt of His revilers when they said, 'If Thou art the Son of G.o.d, come down from the cross.' But why did He not do it? I remember how once He said concerning His life, 'no one taketh it away from Me.' But have not Pilate and the Jews taken it away? I shall never lean upon His bosom again. But this I know--He loved me, and I loved Him, and love Him still. The mysteries are great, but the memories of Him will be exceedingly precious forever.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: JESUS APPEARING TO MARY MAGDALENE (Easter Morning) _B. Plockhorst_ Page 209]
Poor John. He forgot those other words of His Lord concerning His life,--”I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again.”
The Lord had done the one already: He was soon to do the other, though His sorrowing disciple understood it not. Meanwhile we leave him, resting if possible from the weariness of the garden and the palace and Calvary, during that Friday night, which was to be followed by a day of continued sadness, and that by another night of sorrowful restlessness.
_CHAPTER XXVIII_
_John at the Tomb_
”Now on the first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while it was yet dark, unto the tomb, and seeth the stone taken away from the tomb. She runneth therefore, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple, whom Jesus loved.
”Peter therefore went forth, and the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb.
”Simon Peter ... entered into the tomb.
”Then entered in therefore the other disciple also, ... and he saw and believed.”--_John_ xx. 1, 2, 3, 6, 8.
”Let us take John for our instructor in the swiftness of love, and Peter for our teacher in courage.”--_Stalker_.
”Oh, sacred day, sublimest day!
Oh, mystery unheard!
Death's hosts that claimed Him as their prey He scattered with a word; And from the tomb He valiant came; And ever blessed be His name.”
--_Kingo. Trans. Hymns of Denmark_.
”Mine eye hath found that sepulchral rock That was the casket of Heav'n's richest store.”
--_Milton_.--_The Pa.s.sion_.
Of the women who visited the tomb of Jesus on the morning of the Resurrection, John was especially interested in Mary Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, probably in his presence; thus giving him opportunity to see the marvelous change from a most abject condition, to grateful devotion to her Healer, perhaps beyond that of any other one whom He healed. John long remembered her starting on her errand ”while it was yet dark.” So he remembered Judas starting when ”it was night” on his errand, of which Mary's was the sad result. One was a deed of love which no darkness hindered: the other was a deed of hate which no darkness prevented or concealed.
John had a special reason for remembering Mary. When she had seen that the stone was taken away from the tomb, it had a different meaning to her from what it did when she and John saw it on Friday evening. And when she ”found not the body of the Lord Jesus,” she imagined that either friends had borne it away, or foes had robbed the tomb. In surprise, disappointment and anxiety, her first impulse was to make it known--to whom else than to him who had sorrowed with her at the stone-closed door? So she ”ran”--not with unwomanly haste, but with the quickened step of woman's love--”to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved.” They were both loved, but not in the fuller sense elsewhere applied to John. Astonished at her early call, startled at the wildness of her grief, sharing her anxiety, ”they ran both together” ”toward the tomb” from which she had so hastily come. But it was an uneven race. John, younger and nimbler, ”outran Peter and came first to the tomb.” ”Yet entered he not in.” Reverence and awe make him pause where love has brought him. For a few moments he is alone. His earnest gaze confirms the report of Mary that somebody has ”taken away the Lord.” He can only ask, Who? Why? Where? No angel gives answer.
Still his gaze is rewarded. ”He seeth the linen cloths lying.” These are silent witnesses that the precious body has not been hastily and rudely s.n.a.t.c.hed away by unfriendly hands, such as had mangled it on the cross.
Peter arriving, everywhere and evermore impulsive, enters at once where John fears to tread. He discovers what John had not seen,--”the napkin that was upon His head, not lying with the linen cloths, but rolled up in a place by itself.” John does not tell whose head, so full is he of the thought of his Lord.