Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1404
Delivered on Lord’s-Day Morning, March 24, 1878
“Sitting over against the sepulcher.” Matthew 27:61.
MARY MAGDALENE and the other Mary were last at the Savior’s grave. They had associated themselves with Joseph and Nicodemus in the sad but loving task of placing the body of their Lord in the silent tomb. After the holy men had gone home they lingered near the grave. Sitting down, perhaps upon some seat in the garden, or on some projection of the rock, they waited in mournful solitude. They had seen where and how the body was laid and so had done their utmost, but yet they still sat watching—love has never done enough, it is hungry to render service. They could scarcely take their eyes away from the spot which held their most precious Treasure, nor leave, till they were compelled to do so, the sacred relics of their Best Beloved.
The Virgin Mary had been taken by John to his home. She had sustained too great a shock to remain at the tomb, for in her were fulfilled the words, “Yes, a sword shall pierce through your own heart also.” She was wise to leave to others those sorrowful offices which were beyond her own power—exceedingly wise, also, from that hour to her life’s end, to remain in the shade, modestly bearing the honor which made her blessed among women. The mother of Zebedee’s children, who also lingered late at the tomb, was gone home, too, for as she was the mother of John it is exceedingly probable that John resided with her and had taken the Virgin to her home. She was needed at home to act as hostess and assist her son and thus she would be obeying the last wish of her dying Lord when He said, “Son, behold your mother,” and explained His meaning by a look.
All having thus departed, the two Marys were the sole watchers at the tomb of Christ at the time of the going down of the sun. They had work yet to do for His burial and this called them away. But they stayed as long as they could—last to go and first to return. This morning we shall, with the women, take up the somewhat unusual post of “sitting over against the sepulcher.” I call it unusual, for as none remained except these two women, few have preached upon our Redeemer’s burial. Thousands of sermons have been delivered upon His death and Resurrection and in this I greatly rejoice, only wishing that there were thousands more. But still, the burial of our Lord deserves a larger share of consideration than it generally obtains.
“He was crucified, dead, and buried,” says the creed and, therefore those who wrote that summary must have thought His burial an important Truth of God and so, indeed, it is. It was the natural sequence and seal of His death and so was related to that which went before. It was the fit and suitable preparation for His rising again and so stood in connection with that which followed after. Come, then, let us take our seat with the holy women “over against the sepulcher” and sing—
“Rest, glorious Son of God:
Your work is done,
And all your burdens borne.
Rest on that stone
Till the third sun has brought
Your everlasting morn.
How calmly in that tomb You lie now,
Your rest how still and deep!
O’er You in love the Father rests:
He gives to His Beloved sleep.
On Bethel pillow now Your head is laid,
In Joseph’s rock-hewn cell;
Your watchers are the angels of Your God They guard Your slumbers well.”
I. Supposing ourselves to be sitting in the garden with our eyes fixed upon the great stone which formed the door of the tomb, we first of all ADMIRE THAT HE HAD A GRAVE AT ALL. We wonder how that stone could hide Him who is the brightness of His Father’s Glory—how the Life of all could lie among the dead—how He who holds creation in His strong right hand could even, for an hour, be entombed! Admiring this, we would calmly reflect, first, upon the testimony of His grave that He was really dead. Those tender women could not have been mistaken, their eyes were too quick to suffer Him to be buried alive, even if anyone had wished to do so.
Of our Lord’s actual death we have many proofs connected with His burial. When Joseph of Arimathea went to Pilate and begged for the body, the Roman ruler would not give it up till he was certain of His death. The centurion, a man under authority, careful in all that he did, certified that Jesus was dead. The soldier who served under the centurion had by a very conclusive test established the fact of His death beyond all doubt, for with a spear he pierced His side and there came out forthwith blood and water. Pilate, who would not have given up the body of a condemned person unless he was sure that execution had taken place, registered the death and commanded the body to be delivered to Joseph.
Both Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus and all the friends who aided in the interment were beyond all question convinced that He was dead. They handled the lifeless frame. They wrapped it in the bands of fine linen. They placed the spices about the sacred flesh which they loved so well—they were sadly assured that their Lord was dead. Even His enemies were quite certain that they had slain Him. They never had a suspicion that possibly a little life remained in Him and that it could be revived, for their stern hate allowed no doubt to remain upon that point—they knew even to the satisfaction of their mistrustful malice that Jesus of Nazareth had died.