Easter Sunday
Monologues
MY TOMB WAS EMPTY
Seven Monologues For Lent And Easter
ORDER OF SERVICE
Prelude
Call To Worship (Responsive)
Leader: The Lord loves those who hate evil; he guards the lives
of his faithful; he rescues them from the hand of the wicked.
People: Light dawns for the righteous, and joy for the upright in
heart. All: Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous, and give thanks
to his holy name! (Psalm 97:10-12, NRSV)
Opening Hymn -- "Low In The Grave He Lay"
Invocation (Unison)
God of the Psalms and of all your holy scripture, remind us of
the pain which made the resurrection necessary. As we hear the
words of Joseph of Arimathea, teach us to trust in you when times
are darkest, and help us to live in you because we know that
there will be a resurrection. Amen.
Scripture -- Matthew 27:57--28:10
Introduction Of Character -- Prefaces the monologue
Dramatic Monologue -- "In A Newly Hewn Tomb"
Pastoral Prayer
Hymn Of Commitment -- "Christ The Lord Is Risen Today"
Benediction
And now may the Lord bless you and keep you, may the Lord make
his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, may the Lord
lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.
EASTER SUNDAY
Matthew 27:57--28:10
In A
Newly Hewn Tomb
We've come full cycle now. We started with a young woman who
poured $10,000 worth of oil on the Master's head, and now we come
to Joseph.
A faithful Jew from Arimathea, probably a man who had made his
fortune in Jerusalem, Joseph was a member of the Sanhedrin and
one who had some feeling for the Savior.
What better person from whose view to see the resurrection?
Joseph Of Arimathea
I had hoped so much in Jesus.
I knew the promise of the coming Messiah. How many times had I
prayed with the psalmist, "The Lord loves those who hate evil; he
preserves the lives of his saints; he delivers them from the hand
of the wicked (Psalm 97:10)."
Why didn't it happen that way for Jesus? If he was the
Messiah, the one whom Daniel said would come on clouds of glory,
why didn't it happen that way for him?
I had hoped so much in Jesus. I had hoped he was the one to
bring God's kingdom.
You may have read that I was a follower of his. That's not
exactly true. I was one who hoped in him. And then he died.
He died, and I stood at the foot of his cross and watched his
servants take him down. I just watched. I tried not to touch him.
I tried to fool myself and tell myself that just in watching, I
wouldn't be unclean for Passover.
I knew that wasn't true, of course. I was unclean. I was made
unclean just by being there, just by being in the presence of his
body.
"He who touches the dead body of any person shall be unclean
seven days," it says in Numbers; "he shall cleanse himself with
water on the third day and on the seventh day, and so be cleaned
... (Numbers 19:11-12a)."
I was unclean. Even though I didn't touch his body, I felt I
was unclean. But I had to do it.
I had so hoped in Jesus. He used to say, "What man, if he had
a sheep fall into a hole on the sabbath, won't lay hold of it and
lift it out?
"Of how much more value is a man than a sheep?" he asked, and
that's what I thought as we took him down.
A common criminal, I couldn't stand to see his body tossed
into a common grave. I knew the law. And I knew how the Romans
did it.
I knew that if he hadn't been a Jew, and if it hadn't been the
time it was, the time of Passover, they'd have let him hang there
until his body was devoured by the birds.
I've seen the ragged skeletons of too many people as they hung
there on their crosses.
Only because he was a Jew, only because the Romans didn't want
the kind of riot which might occur if they went against our
sacred Jewish laws, were we allowed to take him down.
"And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he
is put to death, and you hang him on a tree," it says in
Deuteronomy (21:22-23), "his body shall not remain all night upon
the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man
is accursed by God; you shall not defile the land which the Lord
your God gives you for an inheritance."
I had so hoped for Jesus, and yet he was accursed by God.
Where was God when Jesus needed God? I had so hoped for Jesus.
But instead, we took him down, and I went to Pilate and asked
permission to bury him in my newly hewn tomb. It was my own tomb,
newly hewn in a rock, with places in it for me and for my family
to be buried.
Pilate reminded me of something. "No one else can be buried
there," he said. "I don't care about your traditions, but
according to them, once a criminal is buried there, no innocent
man can rest beside him."
And I nodded, and then I went, with Nicodemus, and we
supervised the preparation. We anointed his torn body with oil
spiced with myrrh and aloes. Then we wrapped him in a linen sheet
and placed him in the tomb.
I had so hoped for Jesus, but by the time Pilate sent his
soldiers to guard the tomb it didn't matter any more. He was
accursed of God, this man in whom I'd placed my now unfounded
hopes. God had abandoned him, and with him, all of us who'd hoped
in him.
I guess that's why I gathered with them. God had abandoned
him, and with him, all of us who had hoped in him, so there was
nothing left to do except to gather.
I had so hoped for Jesus.
There are probably a lot of you who have felt like I feel.
There may be some of you who have faced death and change
in this past year. You may wonder where God was in all of that.
Don't be ashamed of that. Don't be ashamed.
None of us had understood. We had all read the scripture, and
in our own ways, we had all walked with him, but none of us had
understood.
That morning when the two Marys came running back shouting,
"He is alive! He is risen!" I felt like a small ship tossed in a
raging storm.
I had so hoped for Jesus, and God had cursed him and abandoned
him.
"I saw an angel," Mary Magdalene said. "I saw an angel and he
told me not to be afraid!"
And, even as she spoke, I was afraid. Now I didn't dare to
hope in Jesus.
Do you want to know what changed it all for me? It wasn't what
the angel said. For me, it wasn't even that I finally saw him,
though I did. I really did.
It was my tomb that was empty. Stop and think about that for a
minute.
It was my tomb that was empty. Can you understand what that
meant for me?
All my loved ones would be buried there. Me and all my loved
ones ...
And it was empty.
Jesus was the fulfillment of all the promises of God. Because
my tomb was empty, I knew Jesus was the promised one, not just
for me, but for the world.
I don't know what you have to struggle with today. It may be
family troubles or your own grief and sorrow. And I don't know if
you'll ever fully understand what Jesus did for you and me, the
curse he bore for you and me, but if you were to ask me to tell
you what it is that really matters to me, this is it.
Jesus rose again, and when he did, my tomb was empty.
If he can do that for me, he can do that for you and all the
world. He can do that for you and all the world. Amen.
Prelude
Call To Worship (Responsive)
Leader: The Lord loves those who hate evil; he guards the lives
of his faithful; he rescues them from the hand of the wicked.
People: Light dawns for the righteous, and joy for the upright in
heart. All: Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous, and give thanks
to his holy name! (Psalm 97:10-12, NRSV)
Opening Hymn -- "Low In The Grave He Lay"
Invocation (Unison)
God of the Psalms and of all your holy scripture, remind us of
the pain which made the resurrection necessary. As we hear the
words of Joseph of Arimathea, teach us to trust in you when times
are darkest, and help us to live in you because we know that
there will be a resurrection. Amen.
Scripture -- Matthew 27:57--28:10
Introduction Of Character -- Prefaces the monologue
Dramatic Monologue -- "In A Newly Hewn Tomb"
Pastoral Prayer
Hymn Of Commitment -- "Christ The Lord Is Risen Today"
Benediction
And now may the Lord bless you and keep you, may the Lord make
his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, may the Lord
lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.
EASTER SUNDAY
Matthew 27:57--28:10
In A
Newly Hewn Tomb
We've come full cycle now. We started with a young woman who
poured $10,000 worth of oil on the Master's head, and now we come
to Joseph.
A faithful Jew from Arimathea, probably a man who had made his
fortune in Jerusalem, Joseph was a member of the Sanhedrin and
one who had some feeling for the Savior.
What better person from whose view to see the resurrection?
Joseph Of Arimathea
I had hoped so much in Jesus.
I knew the promise of the coming Messiah. How many times had I
prayed with the psalmist, "The Lord loves those who hate evil; he
preserves the lives of his saints; he delivers them from the hand
of the wicked (Psalm 97:10)."
Why didn't it happen that way for Jesus? If he was the
Messiah, the one whom Daniel said would come on clouds of glory,
why didn't it happen that way for him?
I had hoped so much in Jesus. I had hoped he was the one to
bring God's kingdom.
You may have read that I was a follower of his. That's not
exactly true. I was one who hoped in him. And then he died.
He died, and I stood at the foot of his cross and watched his
servants take him down. I just watched. I tried not to touch him.
I tried to fool myself and tell myself that just in watching, I
wouldn't be unclean for Passover.
I knew that wasn't true, of course. I was unclean. I was made
unclean just by being there, just by being in the presence of his
body.
"He who touches the dead body of any person shall be unclean
seven days," it says in Numbers; "he shall cleanse himself with
water on the third day and on the seventh day, and so be cleaned
... (Numbers 19:11-12a)."
I was unclean. Even though I didn't touch his body, I felt I
was unclean. But I had to do it.
I had so hoped in Jesus. He used to say, "What man, if he had
a sheep fall into a hole on the sabbath, won't lay hold of it and
lift it out?
"Of how much more value is a man than a sheep?" he asked, and
that's what I thought as we took him down.
A common criminal, I couldn't stand to see his body tossed
into a common grave. I knew the law. And I knew how the Romans
did it.
I knew that if he hadn't been a Jew, and if it hadn't been the
time it was, the time of Passover, they'd have let him hang there
until his body was devoured by the birds.
I've seen the ragged skeletons of too many people as they hung
there on their crosses.
Only because he was a Jew, only because the Romans didn't want
the kind of riot which might occur if they went against our
sacred Jewish laws, were we allowed to take him down.
"And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he
is put to death, and you hang him on a tree," it says in
Deuteronomy (21:22-23), "his body shall not remain all night upon
the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man
is accursed by God; you shall not defile the land which the Lord
your God gives you for an inheritance."
I had so hoped for Jesus, and yet he was accursed by God.
Where was God when Jesus needed God? I had so hoped for Jesus.
But instead, we took him down, and I went to Pilate and asked
permission to bury him in my newly hewn tomb. It was my own tomb,
newly hewn in a rock, with places in it for me and for my family
to be buried.
Pilate reminded me of something. "No one else can be buried
there," he said. "I don't care about your traditions, but
according to them, once a criminal is buried there, no innocent
man can rest beside him."
And I nodded, and then I went, with Nicodemus, and we
supervised the preparation. We anointed his torn body with oil
spiced with myrrh and aloes. Then we wrapped him in a linen sheet
and placed him in the tomb.
I had so hoped for Jesus, but by the time Pilate sent his
soldiers to guard the tomb it didn't matter any more. He was
accursed of God, this man in whom I'd placed my now unfounded
hopes. God had abandoned him, and with him, all of us who'd hoped
in him.
I guess that's why I gathered with them. God had abandoned
him, and with him, all of us who had hoped in him, so there was
nothing left to do except to gather.
I had so hoped for Jesus.
There are probably a lot of you who have felt like I feel.
There may be some of you who have faced death and change
in this past year. You may wonder where God was in all of that.
Don't be ashamed of that. Don't be ashamed.
None of us had understood. We had all read the scripture, and
in our own ways, we had all walked with him, but none of us had
understood.
That morning when the two Marys came running back shouting,
"He is alive! He is risen!" I felt like a small ship tossed in a
raging storm.
I had so hoped for Jesus, and God had cursed him and abandoned
him.
"I saw an angel," Mary Magdalene said. "I saw an angel and he
told me not to be afraid!"
And, even as she spoke, I was afraid. Now I didn't dare to
hope in Jesus.
Do you want to know what changed it all for me? It wasn't what
the angel said. For me, it wasn't even that I finally saw him,
though I did. I really did.
It was my tomb that was empty. Stop and think about that for a
minute.
It was my tomb that was empty. Can you understand what that
meant for me?
All my loved ones would be buried there. Me and all my loved
ones ...
And it was empty.
Jesus was the fulfillment of all the promises of God. Because
my tomb was empty, I knew Jesus was the promised one, not just
for me, but for the world.
I don't know what you have to struggle with today. It may be
family troubles or your own grief and sorrow. And I don't know if
you'll ever fully understand what Jesus did for you and me, the
curse he bore for you and me, but if you were to ask me to tell
you what it is that really matters to me, this is it.
Jesus rose again, and when he did, my tomb was empty.
If he can do that for me, he can do that for you and all the
world. He can do that for you and all the world. Amen.
