That Cross will kindle a love which will not rest concealed, but will be "like the ointment of the right hand which bewrayeth itself." I can fancy men to whom Christ is only what He was to Nicodemus at first, "a Teacher sent from G.o.d," occupying Nicodemus" position of hidden belief in His teaching without feeling any need to avow themselves His followers; but if once into our souls there has come the constraining and the melting influence of that great and wondrous love which died for us, then, dear brethren, it is unnatural that we should be silent.
If those "for whom Christ has died" should hold their peace, "the stones would immediately cry out." That death, wondrous, mysterious, terrible, but radiant, and glorious with hope, with pardon, with holiness for us and for all the world--that death smites on the chords of our hearts, if I may so speak, and brings out music from them all.
The love that died for me will force me to express my love, "Then shall the tongue of the dumb sing," and silence will be impossible.
The sight of the Cross not only leads to courage, and kindles a love which demands expression, but it impels to joyful surrender. Joseph gave a place in his own new tomb, where he hoped that one day his bones should be laid by the side of the Master against whom he had sinned--for he had no thought of a resurrection. Nicodemus brought a lavish, almost an extravagant, amount of costly spices, as if by honour to the dead he could atone for treason to the living. And both the one and the other teach us that if once we gain the true vision of that great and wondrous love that died on the Cross for us, then the natural language of the loving heart is--
"Here, Lord! I give _myself_ away; "Tis all that I can do."
If following Him openly involves sacrifices, the sacrifices will be sweet, so long as our hearts look to His dying love. All love delights in expression, and most of all in expression by surrender of precious things, which are most precious because they give love materials which it may lay at the beloved"s feet. What are position, possessions, reputation, capacities, perils, losses, self, but the "sweet spices"
which we are blessed enough to be able to lay upon the altar which glorifies the Giver and the gift? The contemplation of Christ"s sacrifice--and that alone--will so overcome our natural selfishness as to make sacrifice for His dear sake most blessed.
I beseech you, then, look ever to Him dying on the Cross for each of us. It will kindle our courage, it will make our hearts glow with love, it will turn our silence into melody and music of praise; it will lead us to heights of consecration and joys of confession; and so it will bring us at last into the possession of that wondrous honour which He promised when He said, "He that confesseth Me before men, him will I also confess; and he that denieth Me before men, him will I also deny."
THE GRAVE IN A GARDEN
"In the garden a new tomb."--JOHN xix. 41 (R.V.).
This is possibly no more than a topographical note introduced merely for the sake of accuracy. But it is quite in John"s manner to attach importance to these apparent trifles and to give no express statement that he is doing so. There are several other instances in the Gospel where similar details are given which appear to have had in his eyes a symbolical meaning--e.g. "And it was night." There may have been such a thought in his mind, for all men in high excitement love and seize symbols, and I can scarcely doubt that the reason which induced Joseph to make his grave in a garden was the reason which induced John to mention so particularly its situation, and that they both discerned in that garden round the sepulchre, the expression of what was to the one a dim desire, to the other "a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead"--that they who are laid to rest in the grave shall come forth again in new and fairer life, as "the garden causeth the things that are sown in it to bud."
To us at all events on Easter morning, with nature rising on every hand from her winter death, and "life re-orient out of dust," that new sepulchre in the garden may well serve for the starting-point of the familiar but ever-precious lessons of the day.
I. A symbol of death and decay as interwoven with all nature and every joy.
We think of Eden and the first coming of death.
The grave was fittingly in the garden, because nature too is subject to the law of decay and death. The flowers fade and men die. Meditative souls have ever gathered lessons of mortality there, and invested death with an alien softness by likening it to falling leaves and withered blooms. But the contrast is greater than the resemblance, and painless dropping of petals is not a parallel to the rending of soul and body.
The garden"s careless wealth of beauty and joy continues unconcerned whatever befalls us. "One generation cometh and another goeth, but the earth abideth for ever."
The grave is in the garden because all our joys and works have sooner or later death a.s.sociated with them.
Every relationship.
Every occupation.
Every joy.
The grave in the garden bids us bring the wholesome contemplation of death into all life.
It may be a harm and weakening to think of it, but should be a strength.
II. The dim hopes with which men have fought against death.
To lay the dead amid blooming nature and fair flowers has been and is natural to men. The symbolism is most natural, deep, and beautiful, expressing the possibility of life and even of advance in the life after apparent decay. There is something very pathetic in so eager a grasping after some stay for hope.
All these natural symbols are insufficient. They are not proofs, they are only pretty a.n.a.logies. But they are all that men have on which to build their hopes as to a future life apart from Christ. That future was vague, a region for hopes and wishes or fears, not for certainty, a region for poetic fancies. The thoughts of it were very faintly operative. Men asked, Shall we live again? Conscience seemed to answer, Yes! The instinct of immortality in men"s souls grasped at these things as proofs of what it believed without them, but there was no clear light.
III. The clear light of certain hope which Christ"s resurrection brings.
The grave in the garden reversed Adam"s bringing of death into Eden.
Christ"s resurrection as a fact bears on the belief in a future state as nothing else can.
It changes hope into certainty. It shows by actual example that death has nothing to do with the soul; that life is independent of the body; that a man after death is the same as before it. The risen Lord was the same in His relations to His disciples, the same in His love, in His memory, and in all else.
It changes shadowy hopes of continuous life into a solid certainty of resurrection life. The former is vague and powerless. It is impossible to conceive of the future with vividness unless as a bodily life. And this is the strength of the Christian conception of the future life, that corporeity is the end and goal of the redeemed man.
It changes terror and awe into joy, and opens up a future in which He is.
We shall be with Him.
We shall be like Him.
Now we can go back to all these incomplete a.n.a.logies and use them confidently. Our faith does not rest upon them but upon what has actually been done on this earth.
Christ is "the First fruits of them that slept." What will the harvest be!
As the single little seed is poor and small by the side of the gorgeous flower that comes from it; so will be the change. "G.o.d giveth it a body as it hath pleased Him."
How then to think of death for ourselves and for those who are gone?
Thankfully and hopefully.
THE RESURRECTION MORNING
"The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, unto the sepulchre, and seeth the stone taken away from the sepulchre. Then she runneth, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre, and we know not where they have laid Him. Peter therefore went forth, and that other disciple, and came to the sepulchre. So they ran both together: and the other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre. And he stooping down, and looking in, saw the linen clothes lying; yet went he not in. Then cometh Simon Peter following him, and went into the sepulchre, and seeth the linen clothes lie, And the napkin, that was about His head, not lying with the linen clothes, but wrapped together in a place by itself. Then went in also that other disciple, which came first to the sepulchre, and he saw, and believed. For as yet they knew not the scripture, that He must rise again from the dead. Then the disciples went away again unto their own home. But Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, And seeth two angels in white sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing Him to be the gardener, saith unto Him, Sir, if thou have borne Him hence, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto Him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch Me not; for I am not yet ascended to My Father: but go to My brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father, and your Father; and to My G.o.d, and your G.o.d.
Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and that He had spoken these things unto her."--JOHN xx. 1-18.
John"s purpose in his narrative of the resurrection is not only to establish the fact, but also to depict the gradual growth of faith in it, among the disciples. The two main incidents in this pa.s.sage, the visit of Peter and John to the tomb and the appearance of our Lord to Mary, give the dawning of faith before sight and the rapturous faith born of sight. In the remainder of the chapter are two more instances of faith following vision, and the teaching of the whole is summed up in Christ"s words to the doubter, "Because thou hast seen Me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed!"
I. The open sepulchre and the bewildered alarm it excited. The act of resurrection took place before sunrise. "At midnight," probably, "the Bridegroom came." It was fitting that He who was to scatter the darkness of the grave should rise while darkness covered the earth, and that no eye should behold "how" that dead was "raised up." The earthquake and the descent of angels and the rolling away of the stone were after the tomb was empty.
John"s note of time seems somewhat earlier than that of the other Gospels, but is not so much so as to require the supposition that Mary preceded the other women. She appears alone here, because the reason for mentioning her at all is to explain how Peter and John knew of the empty tomb, and she alone had been the informant. In these Eastern lands, "as it began to dawn," "very early at the rising of the sun,"
and "while it was yet dark," are times very near each other, and Mary may have reached the sepulchre a little before the others. Her own words, "We know not," show that she had spoken with others who had seen the empty grave. We must therefore suppose that she had with the others come to it, seen that the sacred corpse was gone and their spices useless, exchanged hurried words of alarm and bewilderment, and then had hastened away before the appearance of the angels.
The impulse to tell the leaders of the forlorn band the news, which she thinks to be so bad, was womanly and natural. It was not hope, but wonder and sorrow that quickened her steps as she ran through the still morning to find them. Whether they were in one house or not is uncertain; but, at all events, Peter"s denial had not cut him off from his brethren, and the two who were so constantly a.s.sociated before and afterwards were not far apart that morning. The disciple who had stood by the Cross to almost the last had an open heart, and probably an open house for the denier. "Restore such an one, ... considering thyself."
Mary had seen the tomb empty, and springs to the conclusion that "they"--some unknown persons--have taken away the dead body, which, with clinging love that tries to ignore death, she still calls "the Lord." Possibly she may have thought that the resting-place in Joseph"s new sepulchre was only meant for temporary shelter (ver. 15). At all events the corpse was gone, and the fact suggested no hope to her. How often do we, in like manner, misinterpret as dark what is really pregnant with light, and blindly attribute to "them" what Jesus does! A tone of mind thus remote from antic.i.p.ation of the great fact is a precious proof of the historical truth of the resurrection; for here was no soil in which hallucinations would spring, and such people would not have believed Him risen unless they had seen Him living.
II. Peter and John at the tomb, the dawning of faith, and the continuance of bewildered wonder. In the account, we may observe, first, the characteristic conduct of each of the two. Peter is first to set out, and John follows, both men doing according to their kind. The younger runs faster than his companion. He looked into the tomb, and saw the wrappings lying; but the reverent awe which holds back finer natures kept him from venturing in. Peter is not said to have looked before entering. He loved with all his heart, but his love was impetuous and practical, and he went straight in, and felt no reason why he should pause. His boldness encouraged his friend, as the example of strong natures does. Some of my readers will recall Bushnell"s n.o.ble sermon on "Unconscious Influence" from this incident, and I need say no more about it.
Observe, too, the further witness of the folded grave-clothes. John from outside had not seen the napkin, lying carefully rolled up apart from the other cloths. It was probably laid in a part of the tomb invisible from without. But the careful disposal of these came to him, when he saw them, with a great flash of illumination. There had been no hurried removal.
Here had been no hostile hands, or there would not have been this deliberation; nor friendly hands, or there would not have been such dishonour to the sacred dead as to carry away the body nude. What did it mean? Could He Himself have done for Himself what He had bade them do for Lazarus? Could He have laid aside the garments of the grave as needing them no more? "They have taken away"--what if it were not "they" but He? No trace of hurry or struggle was there. He did "not go out with haste, nor go by flight," but calmly, deliberately, in the majesty of His lordship over death, He rose from His slumber and left order in the land of confusion.
Observe, too, the birth of the Apostle"s faith. John connects it with the sight of the folded garments. "Believed" here must mean more than recognition of the fact that the grave was empty. The next clause seems to imply that it means belief in the resurrection. The scripture, which they "knew" as scripture, was for John suddenly interpreted, and he was lifted out of the ignorance of its meaning, which till that moment he had shared with his fellow-disciples. Their failure to understand Christ"s frequent distinct prophecies that He would rise again the third day has been thought incredible, but is surely intelligible enough if we remember how unexampled such a thing was, and how marvellous is our power of hearing and yet not hearing the plainest truth. We all in the course of our lives are lost in astonishment when things befall us which we have been plainly told will befall. The fulfilment of all divine promises (and threatenings) is a surprise, and no warnings beforehand teach one t.i.the so clearly as experience.