Joseph Of Arimathea: Closet Christian
Monologues
God's Great Trumpet Call
15 Monologues of New Testament People
In Glastonbury, England, some curious hawthorn bushes flower twice a year. They are reported to be a variety not native to England but related to those of the eastern Mediterranean, and there is a legend about them. William of Malmsbury, about the year 1135, recorded the legend that Joseph of Arimathea left Jerusalem and went to southern France. From there, in 63 A.D., he went to Britain and founded the first Christian settlement in England at the site of present-day Glastonbury. He took with him his walking staff, cut from his garden in Jerusalem. When he stuck the staff into the ground in England, it rooted, becoming the Glastonbury thorn.
All four Gospels mention one event in the life of Joseph of Arimathea; each adds some of the details. But Joseph must have a story of his own.
Why am I here on your shore,
my sandals well-worn,
this staff in my hand?
Briefly, in the name of Jesus
I have lost everything I had,
and by the love of Jesus I have gained far more.
Let me begin.
I am a Hebrew,
born in Arimathea in the province of Judea.
I inherited large farms,
and by hard work I increased my wealth.
Yet I knew also that life is more
than heaping up wheat and oil and wine or gold.
From my youth I have loved the one almighty God,
Creator of all things,
God of Israel and God of my Fathers.
In that love for God, I became a Pharisee,
the strictest sect of our people,
trying to keep perfectly all the law of God.
For my religious zeal,
as well as my wealth and social status,
I was chosen to be a member of the Sanhedrin,
the council of elders and high priests
that ruled the Temple
and the religious life of my people.
It was a good life:
my position on the council brought prestige
and greater business opportunities.
As a ruler in the Temple,
I grew in my worship of God.
Still, life was not quite full;
I had a hunger for something more.
Then I met Jesus,
and my world turned upside down.
The council heard that a man named Jesus
was going from town to town,
teaching new ideas and drawing huge crowds.
Naturally we were apprehensive,
for he had no training from the rabbis;
there was no telling what dreadful errors
he could introduce.
It was reported that he did great miracles of healing;
we were skeptical;
this must be nonsense from the mob.
Then Jesus came to Jerusalem,
teaching in the Temple courtyard,
healing in the streets.
When he healed a paralyzed man,
he threw our council into consternation.
There was no doubt:
the man had been paralyzed for years,
and he was completely healed;
but Jesus had done this on the Sabbath day,
which is for worship only.
Healing was good;
breaking the Sabbath was evil;
was this Jesus from God or from the Devil?
I had to hear Jesus for myself.
Each time I listened,
my soul stirred within me.
His words held me, convinced me,
fed the long-time hunger in my life.
He stood in the Temple and cried out,
"Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,
and let the one who believes in me drink.
As the scripture has said,
'Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers
of living water.' "
I felt my thirst;
within my heart I believed
and drank of his truth,
and my thirst was satisfied.
I knew in my inmost being he was the Messiah,
the Holy One sent by God,
the living Son of God.
What did I do?
What did I say?
Nothing.
Nothing.
Most of the council was against Jesus,
and they sent temple police to arrest him.
The police returned empty-handed, saying,
"Never has anyone spoken like this!"
Leaders of the council berated Jesus
without hearing him.
Nicodemus,
an older, well-respected member,
had the courage to defend him indirectly,
asking,
"Our law does not judge people
without first giving them a hearing
to find out what they are doing, does it?"
The council leaders then vented their scorn
on Nicodemus.
What did I do?
What did I say?
Nothing.
I was respected by the council,
but so was Nicodemus.
If they brushed him aside,
they would do the same to me.
There were good men on the council,
but the leaders were political appointees,
concerned only for their power,
and they had set their minds against Jesus.
My judgment was influential,
but I knew in advance I would be outvoted.
I justified my silence by thinking,
"Perhaps Jesus will need more help later,
but if I join Nicodemus now,
I will lose the power to influence events
another time."
Again, I was silent.
For two years I carried my faith in my bosom;
it grew stronger each time I heard Jesus.
Then came the crisis.
Each spring our people celebrate the Passover,
a great holy festival.
I had been out in the country for several days,
talking to my farm managers
and arranging for the spring work.
Then I rushed back to Jerusalem for the Passover,
hoping that Jesus would be there
and I would see him again.
When I arrived in the city,
I learned the dreadful news.
The council had arrested Jesus,
condemned him in a hurried nighttime trial,
and turned him over to the Romans
on false charges;
he was now being nailed to a cross,
the terrible Roman execution.
Waves of guilt and shame poured over me.
Why hadn't I spoken up for him before?
Why had I been away this week?
Why hadn't I been at the council to defend him?
What could I do?
Was there nothing I could do now?
I went to the place of execution,
a hill near the city,
My heart sank at the agony,
the brutality.
To see a man of God,
one who was more than man,
one who was God come for us in human flesh:
to see this one who had spoken such truth
and done so much good,
to see him mocked and tortured
was more than I could bear.
I searched for Nicodemus,
and I found him at the edge of the crowd.
Since his defense of Jesus,
we had spoken many times,
and we had shared in secret
our faith in Jesus the Messiah.
He told me the council had met at night,
an illegal time,
and he had not been invited.
Did they suspect I was a believer?
Was that why they had not called me in
from the country?
The sky grew black,
the earth shook,
and we knew Jesus was dead.
Roman soldiers trembled,
and we heard them say,
"Truly this man was God's Son!"
What could we do?
It was too late to save Jesus' life.
But must he hang there on the cross for days?
It is a disgrace in Israel
for a body to remain unburied,
doubly a disgrace when it is a man of God.
Yet by Roman law,
the body of an executed criminal
belonged to the government;
no one dared to touch it
without the governor's permission.
"I will go to the governor," I told Nicodemus.
"I know him; maybe he will give permission
for a decent burial."
I knew the cost:
I might risk the Governor's anger;
I would certainly face retaliation
from the leaders of the council.
Why did I do it?
It was an act of love
for the teacher who taught such love.
It was an act of respect
to one who treated all persons with respect.
It was an act of despair and guilt,
for my Lord was dead,
and I had failed to help him
when he was in need.
Why did I do it?
There were deeper reasons.
Once Jesus had said to me,
"Some day, Joseph,
you must declare yourself.
You must be for me or against me."
Now the day had come.
Jesus' death did for me
what even his life had not done.
The hesitation, the concealment, had to go.
I must put aside my fear
and show my faith.
Why did I do it?
I later learned Jesus had told his inner circle,
"I, when I am lifted up from the earth,
will draw all people to myself."
Already the power of his cross
was turning this coward
into the man you see now:
a man who took an irreversible step
for Jesus the Christ.
Pilate gave his permission.
Then Nicodemus and I had to move quickly.
It was late in the day,
and under Jewish law the burial
must be finished before sundown
and the start of the holy Passover.
We had one big advantage.
I owned a new tomb,
which I had prepared for myself and my family.
It was dug in the face of a rock cliff,
quite near the place of the crucifixion.
While our servants carried the body of Jesus
to my tomb,
Nicodemus bought spices to anoint the body.
We buried Jesus,
and the servants rolled a heavy stone
over the entrance to the tomb.
Nicodemus and I went to our homes,
tired,
brokenhearted.
We both knew we had sacrificed
our positions on the council,
our public respect,
probably our wealth,
possibly even our lives.
Yet we had to do what we had done,
and we knew it was right.
It was a time of sorrow.
On the third day,
life changed completely!
His disciples brought the joyful news.
Jesus had risen from the dead!
Jesus was alive!
They had seen him alive!
He had met them,
talked with them,
eaten with them.
Jesus was alive!
Our faith was vindicated,
our hopes were renewed,
Jesus was alive!
For several weeks the risen Jesus met with us.
He taught us the meaning of his coming
and his death.
In his death and rising again,
Jesus had brought us forgiveness and new life.
He had fulfilled God's ancient promises to our people,
giving us a new covenant
open to all nations of the world.
Then God sent his Holy Spirit upon us
with great power.
In that power we have gone out
telling of new life by faith in Jesus the Christ.
In every land,
to the north and to the south,
to the east and to the west,
men and women beyond counting
have heard this good news,
received it in their hearts,
rejoiced in this new life
by faith in Jesus Christ.
Friends, I have travelled many miles
by land and by sea
to bring this message to your shore.
Jesus is alive!
Jesus is Lord, Son of God, Savior, Redeemer;
and Jesus offers the gift of life,
life that is full and rich,
life that is eternal,
love that drives out fear,
the transforming, empowering,
all-embracing love of our gracious God.
Good people of this new land, that is my story.
Once I kept my faith in a closet,
safely hidden away.
I heard people complain of the emptiness of life,
and I failed to tell them of the Savior
who could fill the voids of their souls.
I knew people who were troubled or depressed,
and I did not spend the time
to take them to Jesus who could lift them up;
I did not show them the greater joy
of life in Christ.
I saw people throw their entire enthusiasm
into business or politics or sports or travel,
leaving little place in their lives for God,
and I did not show them the greater joy
and greater enthusiasm of life in Christ.
Friends, I came out of that closet,
I did not hold back my tomb,
or my reputation,
or my safety.
I gave myself to Jesus Christ,
and he has given Himself to me.
I have left behind me all that I had,
but I bring to you that which is worth far more.
I bring the good news of the love of God,
of salvation offered freely
to all who trust in Jesus as God's Son.
I bring to you God's gifts
of life and love and joy and peace. Amen.
All four Gospels mention one event in the life of Joseph of Arimathea; each adds some of the details. But Joseph must have a story of his own.
Why am I here on your shore,
my sandals well-worn,
this staff in my hand?
Briefly, in the name of Jesus
I have lost everything I had,
and by the love of Jesus I have gained far more.
Let me begin.
I am a Hebrew,
born in Arimathea in the province of Judea.
I inherited large farms,
and by hard work I increased my wealth.
Yet I knew also that life is more
than heaping up wheat and oil and wine or gold.
From my youth I have loved the one almighty God,
Creator of all things,
God of Israel and God of my Fathers.
In that love for God, I became a Pharisee,
the strictest sect of our people,
trying to keep perfectly all the law of God.
For my religious zeal,
as well as my wealth and social status,
I was chosen to be a member of the Sanhedrin,
the council of elders and high priests
that ruled the Temple
and the religious life of my people.
It was a good life:
my position on the council brought prestige
and greater business opportunities.
As a ruler in the Temple,
I grew in my worship of God.
Still, life was not quite full;
I had a hunger for something more.
Then I met Jesus,
and my world turned upside down.
The council heard that a man named Jesus
was going from town to town,
teaching new ideas and drawing huge crowds.
Naturally we were apprehensive,
for he had no training from the rabbis;
there was no telling what dreadful errors
he could introduce.
It was reported that he did great miracles of healing;
we were skeptical;
this must be nonsense from the mob.
Then Jesus came to Jerusalem,
teaching in the Temple courtyard,
healing in the streets.
When he healed a paralyzed man,
he threw our council into consternation.
There was no doubt:
the man had been paralyzed for years,
and he was completely healed;
but Jesus had done this on the Sabbath day,
which is for worship only.
Healing was good;
breaking the Sabbath was evil;
was this Jesus from God or from the Devil?
I had to hear Jesus for myself.
Each time I listened,
my soul stirred within me.
His words held me, convinced me,
fed the long-time hunger in my life.
He stood in the Temple and cried out,
"Let anyone who is thirsty come to me,
and let the one who believes in me drink.
As the scripture has said,
'Out of the believer's heart shall flow rivers
of living water.' "
I felt my thirst;
within my heart I believed
and drank of his truth,
and my thirst was satisfied.
I knew in my inmost being he was the Messiah,
the Holy One sent by God,
the living Son of God.
What did I do?
What did I say?
Nothing.
Nothing.
Most of the council was against Jesus,
and they sent temple police to arrest him.
The police returned empty-handed, saying,
"Never has anyone spoken like this!"
Leaders of the council berated Jesus
without hearing him.
Nicodemus,
an older, well-respected member,
had the courage to defend him indirectly,
asking,
"Our law does not judge people
without first giving them a hearing
to find out what they are doing, does it?"
The council leaders then vented their scorn
on Nicodemus.
What did I do?
What did I say?
Nothing.
I was respected by the council,
but so was Nicodemus.
If they brushed him aside,
they would do the same to me.
There were good men on the council,
but the leaders were political appointees,
concerned only for their power,
and they had set their minds against Jesus.
My judgment was influential,
but I knew in advance I would be outvoted.
I justified my silence by thinking,
"Perhaps Jesus will need more help later,
but if I join Nicodemus now,
I will lose the power to influence events
another time."
Again, I was silent.
For two years I carried my faith in my bosom;
it grew stronger each time I heard Jesus.
Then came the crisis.
Each spring our people celebrate the Passover,
a great holy festival.
I had been out in the country for several days,
talking to my farm managers
and arranging for the spring work.
Then I rushed back to Jerusalem for the Passover,
hoping that Jesus would be there
and I would see him again.
When I arrived in the city,
I learned the dreadful news.
The council had arrested Jesus,
condemned him in a hurried nighttime trial,
and turned him over to the Romans
on false charges;
he was now being nailed to a cross,
the terrible Roman execution.
Waves of guilt and shame poured over me.
Why hadn't I spoken up for him before?
Why had I been away this week?
Why hadn't I been at the council to defend him?
What could I do?
Was there nothing I could do now?
I went to the place of execution,
a hill near the city,
My heart sank at the agony,
the brutality.
To see a man of God,
one who was more than man,
one who was God come for us in human flesh:
to see this one who had spoken such truth
and done so much good,
to see him mocked and tortured
was more than I could bear.
I searched for Nicodemus,
and I found him at the edge of the crowd.
Since his defense of Jesus,
we had spoken many times,
and we had shared in secret
our faith in Jesus the Messiah.
He told me the council had met at night,
an illegal time,
and he had not been invited.
Did they suspect I was a believer?
Was that why they had not called me in
from the country?
The sky grew black,
the earth shook,
and we knew Jesus was dead.
Roman soldiers trembled,
and we heard them say,
"Truly this man was God's Son!"
What could we do?
It was too late to save Jesus' life.
But must he hang there on the cross for days?
It is a disgrace in Israel
for a body to remain unburied,
doubly a disgrace when it is a man of God.
Yet by Roman law,
the body of an executed criminal
belonged to the government;
no one dared to touch it
without the governor's permission.
"I will go to the governor," I told Nicodemus.
"I know him; maybe he will give permission
for a decent burial."
I knew the cost:
I might risk the Governor's anger;
I would certainly face retaliation
from the leaders of the council.
Why did I do it?
It was an act of love
for the teacher who taught such love.
It was an act of respect
to one who treated all persons with respect.
It was an act of despair and guilt,
for my Lord was dead,
and I had failed to help him
when he was in need.
Why did I do it?
There were deeper reasons.
Once Jesus had said to me,
"Some day, Joseph,
you must declare yourself.
You must be for me or against me."
Now the day had come.
Jesus' death did for me
what even his life had not done.
The hesitation, the concealment, had to go.
I must put aside my fear
and show my faith.
Why did I do it?
I later learned Jesus had told his inner circle,
"I, when I am lifted up from the earth,
will draw all people to myself."
Already the power of his cross
was turning this coward
into the man you see now:
a man who took an irreversible step
for Jesus the Christ.
Pilate gave his permission.
Then Nicodemus and I had to move quickly.
It was late in the day,
and under Jewish law the burial
must be finished before sundown
and the start of the holy Passover.
We had one big advantage.
I owned a new tomb,
which I had prepared for myself and my family.
It was dug in the face of a rock cliff,
quite near the place of the crucifixion.
While our servants carried the body of Jesus
to my tomb,
Nicodemus bought spices to anoint the body.
We buried Jesus,
and the servants rolled a heavy stone
over the entrance to the tomb.
Nicodemus and I went to our homes,
tired,
brokenhearted.
We both knew we had sacrificed
our positions on the council,
our public respect,
probably our wealth,
possibly even our lives.
Yet we had to do what we had done,
and we knew it was right.
It was a time of sorrow.
On the third day,
life changed completely!
His disciples brought the joyful news.
Jesus had risen from the dead!
Jesus was alive!
They had seen him alive!
He had met them,
talked with them,
eaten with them.
Jesus was alive!
Our faith was vindicated,
our hopes were renewed,
Jesus was alive!
For several weeks the risen Jesus met with us.
He taught us the meaning of his coming
and his death.
In his death and rising again,
Jesus had brought us forgiveness and new life.
He had fulfilled God's ancient promises to our people,
giving us a new covenant
open to all nations of the world.
Then God sent his Holy Spirit upon us
with great power.
In that power we have gone out
telling of new life by faith in Jesus the Christ.
In every land,
to the north and to the south,
to the east and to the west,
men and women beyond counting
have heard this good news,
received it in their hearts,
rejoiced in this new life
by faith in Jesus Christ.
Friends, I have travelled many miles
by land and by sea
to bring this message to your shore.
Jesus is alive!
Jesus is Lord, Son of God, Savior, Redeemer;
and Jesus offers the gift of life,
life that is full and rich,
life that is eternal,
love that drives out fear,
the transforming, empowering,
all-embracing love of our gracious God.
Good people of this new land, that is my story.
Once I kept my faith in a closet,
safely hidden away.
I heard people complain of the emptiness of life,
and I failed to tell them of the Savior
who could fill the voids of their souls.
I knew people who were troubled or depressed,
and I did not spend the time
to take them to Jesus who could lift them up;
I did not show them the greater joy
of life in Christ.
I saw people throw their entire enthusiasm
into business or politics or sports or travel,
leaving little place in their lives for God,
and I did not show them the greater joy
and greater enthusiasm of life in Christ.
Friends, I came out of that closet,
I did not hold back my tomb,
or my reputation,
or my safety.
I gave myself to Jesus Christ,
and he has given Himself to me.
I have left behind me all that I had,
but I bring to you that which is worth far more.
I bring the good news of the love of God,
of salvation offered freely
to all who trust in Jesus as God's Son.
I bring to you God's gifts
of life and love and joy and peace. Amen.
