Jesus, The Blessed One Who Blessed

It was difficult to look upon His body. He had asked permission of Pontius Pilate for His body, to take it down from the Cross. Permission had been granted. A soldier had already pierced His side with a spear to make certain He had died. Joseph had not consented to the decision of the counsel, and what they had done to Him. He had compassion for Him.

At first, Nicodemus had come to Jesus under the cover of darkness, and now in the evening, he came alongside Joseph of Arimathaea. What must it have been like to see that once vibrant body, now cold and lifeless, bloodied, and battered beyond recognition? What must it have been like to see the hands that had once made a living using nails and wood, now nailed to wood? How must they have felt, seeing the feet that never strayed from righteousness, that always walked with God the Father in love towards people, now unmoving, anchored to a tree like one accursed?

Nicodemus had brought a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes and they had wrapped them with His body in a clean linen cloth and laid it in a tomb that had never been used. It had been carved out in the rock, and Joseph saw to it that a huge stone was rolled into place across the sepulcher opening to close it.

What had caused these men to act this way toward Him? Both of them were aware that treating His body in such a respectful and decent way might have consequences for them.

He had loved them. He had loved them.

This man, Jesus, had been a blessing to them.

Only scant days earlier, He had made His triumphal entrance into the city of Jerusalem. Who had really known of His true triumph though? Had the ones who had gathered to see the miracle man known? Had the ones who hoped that He would overthrow their oppressors, the Romans, known? Did anyone in the streets of Jerusalem that day have any real notion about what He had triumphed over? Now, as His body lay in the darkness of a borrowed tomb, many hearts, many minds were centered on Him, and on what His life, and now His death, meant for them.

Some remembered the time when Jesus had come to the Temple complex early one morning, and how all the people had come to Him. They remembered how He had sat down to teach them. Suddenly the scribes and Pharisees had brought a woman before Him and had told Him about how she had been caught in the very act of adultery.

There was nothing righteous about their own behavior though. They had sought to tempt Him, and were hoping to accuse Him with this act. They had hoped to ruin Him. They had not brought the man involved in the sin with this woman. Why not? It was all intended to be a trap, but Jesus was too perceptive, too intelligent, and too compassionate for them to foresee what He would do.

Expecting Jesus to give the command to stone the woman to death for her sin, He instead suggested to all present, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." He spoke with absolute confidence, knowing that no person on earth except Himself could meet that qualification. Everyone left except for the woman.

Jesus was a blessing to her. Before she parted from Him that day, she knew that He had compassion on her, and that He had showed His love for her. You see, God has not changed His mind about the penalty for that sin. Jesus had not changed His mind about her sin personally, either. It was still vile before His eyes. He knew that it ruined lives. It ruined the lives of those involved, and their children. Sometimes in the minds of those who had been cheated on, it would have seemed better, simpler and easier, if their cheating spouse had just died. Stoning might have accomplished that. Maybe it would have been simpler in the minds of many.

But Jesus was a blessing to her. He loved her. He forgave her sin. He was a blessing to all mankind, because unbeknown to everyone asleep or awake in that city that Sunday morning, even though everyone, everywhere, was guilty of sin, He had died for them, for us, and He had risen from that tomb.

What must Joseph and Nicodemus have felt like? What must have been going through the minds of Joseph of Arimatheae, and of Nicodemus, that day? Had they known then, His true compassion? Had they seen then? Had they come to know His true love for them? Had they come to know how they, and all who seek Him, had truly been blessed?