14. The Burial of Jesus. I am Joseph of Arimathea, a Pharisee and a member of the Sanhedrin. I had great respect for Jesus of Nazareth, but was too afraid to come to him in public. It mattered no longer what other people thought. And I went to ask Pilate for his body to give him a proper burial. There was not enough time to complete all the rituals. We would have to return before dawn not he third day. I just had to take the nails out of his hands and feet, and wash off the blood and grime that reminded us of his painful agony. We gently laid him in his mother’s arms, and were filled with grief. Her pain was beyond understanding. All I could do was assure her he would suffer no more. But it was she who comforted us. She had just lost her only son. Yet in that same instant, she became mother of us all.
We pray. Finally, your bruised and broken body was laid to rest in a tomb. The stone that sealed you in darkness and decay would become the symbol of your triumph when it is rolled away. You call me to share your suffering, death, and resurrection each day, primarily to selfishness and sin, that I may come to know the fulness of life in your company, to give glory to your name, and share in the work of redemption on behalf of your holy people.
Rolo B Castillo © 2014