Joseph sat alone in the corner of the room, head down, hands in front of him, fingertip to fingertip. Food and drink, brought to him by his servants, set to the side untouched. He was grappling on the inside with the day’s events, but no matter how he turned what had unfolded, there was no sense in what he had seen.
They had voted in the Council to do this dishonorable act — the seal of approval from the high priest himself — and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The years of political clout he thought he had accumulated, his wealth, his imposing physical presence — all were useless once the mob mentality had set in. In the chaos that was the last council meeting he would attend, he had stood and with a voice that was usually low and powerful, quiveringly accounted his own contact with the self-proclaimed Son of God — how he had seen him heal men, women, and children; how he had met Lazarus — three days after his death and burial. But his testimony carried no weight; it was a tinkling cymbal in an uproaring sea of hate and fear.
He had endured enough of politics and religion and the kingdom of God. It was time to leave this place, go home, perhaps farm again, and wait for the end.
A solitary figure appeared at the door and spoke: “Joseph. Joseph of Arimathea.”
He recognized the voice from the Council, sometimes friend, sometimes opponent. “I have nothing to do with the council anymore,” Joseph answered. “Go home, Nicodemus.”
“I tell you the truth,” Nicodemus said, “no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.”
Joseph looked up. “Who told you that?”
“He did. I met with him under the cover of darkness and he told me this and many other things.”
“Do you believe?” Joseph inquired.
“With everything that is in me. Do you?”
He smiled for the first time in what seemed a very long time. “Yes. With everything that is in me.”
“Then it’s time we do something about it.”
Turn to the Gospel of John 18:38–42 for the rest of the story.
Text 1 John 3:16–24
By this we know love, because he laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need, and closes his heart of compassion against him, how does the love of God remain in him? My little children, let’s not love in word only, neither with the tongue only, but in deed and truth. And by this we know that we are of the truth, and persuade our hearts before him, because if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things.
Beloved, if our hearts don’t condemn us, we have boldness toward God; and whatever we ask, we receive from him, because we keep his commandments and do the things that are pleasing in his sight. This is his commandment, that we should believe in the name of his Son, Jesus Christ, and love one another, even as he commanded. He who keeps his commandments remains in him, and he in him. By this we know that he remains in us, by the Spirit which he gave us.
For Thought
- Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus — two prominent men in the political system during Jesus’ walk on earth — buried the Messiah (Matthew 27:57–61; Mark 15:42–47; Luke 23:50–54; John 18:38–42.) Both of these men were described as “secret” followers of Jesus previously because of their positions of authority, yet they risked all that they had acquired to follow Jesus after all appeared lost. What drove these two fringe believers to act on truth and love?
- This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. In other words, when we perform acts of righteousness — performed in faith — we quiet our conscience. The next sentence is awesome: For God is greater than our hearts and he knows everything. He knows we need to do these things for our own peace of mind! So what’s holding you back from coming out of your little corner of the world and doing righteous acts?
Water to Wine
- The first exercise is simple this week: Love with actions and in truth.
- The second exercise is not so simple: Monitor what you say. Every time you find yourself loving with “word or tongue,” ask yourself how you can support what you’re saying with “actions and truth.”
