The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon
cut it out for himself, and that he should lay his bones there. He had it excavated as a family vault, and lo, the Son of David makes it one of the tombs of the kings. But he did not lose it by lending it to the Lord: rather, he had it back with precious interest. He only lent it three days: then Christ resigned it: he had not injured, but perfumed and sanctified it, and made it far more holy, so that it would be an honour in future to be buried there. It was a borrowed tomb; and why? I take it not to dishonour Christ, but in order to show that as his sins were borrowed sins so his burial was in a borrowed grave. Christ had no transgressions of his own; he took ours upon his head; no never committed a wrong, but he took all my sin, and all yours, if you are believers. Concerning all his people, it is true, he bore their griefs and carried their sorrows in his own body on the tree; therefore, as they were other’s sins so he rested in another’s grave; as they were sins imputed, so that grave was only imputedly his. It was not his sepulchre: it was the tomb of Joseph.
10. Let us not weary in this pious investigation, but with fixed attention observe everything connected with this holy spot. The grave, we observe, was cut in a rock. Why was this? The Rock of ages was buried in a rock — a Rock within a rock. But why? Most people suggest that it was so ordained that it might be clear that there was no secret way by which the disciples or others could enter and steal the body away. Very possibly it was the reason; but oh! my soul, can you not find a spiritual reason? Christ’s sepulchre was cut in a rock. It was not cut in mould that might be worn away by the water, or might crumble and fall into decay. The sepulchre stands, I believe, entire to this day; if it does not naturally, it does spiritually. The same sepulchre which took the sins of Paul, shall take my iniquities into its bosom; for if I ever lose my guilt, it must roll off my shoulders into the sepulchre. It was cut in a rock, so that if a sinner were saved a thousand years ago, I too can be delivered, for it is a rocky sepulchre where sin was buried — it was a rocky sepulchre of marble where my crimes were laid for ever — buried never to have a resurrection.
11. You will note, moreover, that tomb was one in which no other man had ever lain. Christopher Ness says, “When Christ was born he lay in a virgin’s womb, and when he died he was placed in a virgin tomb; he slept where never man had slept before.” The reason was, that no one might say that another person rose, for there never had been any other body there; thus a mistake in identity was impossible. Nor could it be said that some old prophet was interred in the place, and that Christ rose because he had touched his bones. You remember when Elisha was buried, and as they were burying a man, behold he touched the prophet’s bones, and arose. Christ touched no prophet’s bones, for no one had ever slept there; it was a new chamber, where the Monarch of the earth took his rest for three days and three nights.
12. We have learned a little, then, with attention, but let us stoop down once more before we leave the grave, and notice something else. We see the grave, but do you notice the grave clothes, all wrapped and laid in their places, the napkin being folded up by itself? Why are the grave clothes wrapped up? The Jews said robbers had taken the body; but if so, surely they would have stolen the clothes; they would never have thought of wrapping them up and laying them down so carefully; they would be too much in haste to think of it. Why was it then? To show us that Christ did not come out in a hurried manner. He slept until the last moment; then he awoke: he did not come out in haste. They shall not come out in haste, neither by flight, but at the appointed moment shall his people come to him. So at the precise hour, the decreed instant, Jesus Christ leisurely awoke, took off his cerements, left them all behind him, and came forth in his pure and naked innocence, perhaps to show us that as clothes are the offspring of sin — when sin was atoned for by Christ, he left all raiment behind him — for garments are the badges of guilt: if we had not been guilty we should never have needed them.
13. Then, see the napkin laid by itself. The grave clothes were left behind for every departed Christian to wear. The bed of death is well sheeted with the garments of Jesus, but the napkin was laid by itself, because the Christian when he dies, does not need that; it is used by the mourners, and the mourners only. We shall all wear grave clothes, but we shall not need the napkin. When our friends die, the napkin is laid aside for us to use; but do our ascended brethren and sisters use it? No; the Lord God has wiped away all tears from their eyes. We stand and view the corpses of the dearly departed, we moisten their faces with our tears, letting whole showers of grief fall on their heads; but do they weep? Oh, no. Could they speak to us from the upper spheres, they would say, “Do not weep for me, for I am glorified. Do not sorrow for me; I have left a bad world behind me, and have entered into a far better one.” They have no napkin — they do not weep. Strange it is that those who endure death do not weep; but those who see them die are weepers. When the child is born it weeps when others smile (say the Arabs), and when it dies it smiles while others weep. It is so with the Christian. Oh blessed thing! The napkin is laid by itself, because Christians will never need to use it when they die.
14. III. EMOTION EXCITED. We have thus surveyed the grave with deep attention, and, I hope, with some profit for ourselves. But that is not all. I love a religion which consists, in a great measure, of emotion. Now, if I had power, like a master, I would touch the strings of your hearts, and fetch a glorious tune of solemn music from them, for this is a deeply solemn place, into which I have conducted you.
15. First, I would bid you stand and see the place where the Lord lay with emotions of deep sorrow. Oh come, my beloved brother, your Jesus once lay there. He was a murdered man, my soul, and you the murderer.
Ah, you, my sins, my cruel sins,
His chief tormentors were,
Each of my crimes became a nail,
And unbelief the spear.
Alas! and did my Saviour bleed?
And did my Sovereign die?
I slew him — this right hand struck the dagger to his heart. My deeds slew Christ. Alas! I slew my best beloved; I killed him who loved me with an everlasting love. You eyes, why do you refuse to weep when you see Jesus’ body mangled and torn? Oh! give vent to your sorrow, Christians, for you have good reason to do so. I believe in what Hart says, that there was a time in his experience when he could so sympathise with Christ, that he felt more grief at the death of Christ than he did joy. It seemed so sad a thing that Christ should have to die; and to me it often appears too great a price for Jesus Christ to purchase worms with his own blood. I think I love him so much that if I had seen him about to suffer, I should have been as bad as Peter, and have said, “That be far from you, Lord”; but then he would have said to me, “Get behind me, Satan”; for he does not approve of that love which would stop him from dying. “The cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink it?” But I think, had I seen him going up to his cross, I could fain have pressed him back, and said, “Oh! Jesus, you shall not die; I cannot have it. Will you purchase my life with a price so dear?” It seems too costly for him who is the prince of life and glory to let his fair limbs be tortured in agony; that the hands which carried mercies should be pierced with accursed nails; that the temples that were always clothed with love, should have cruel thorns driven through them. It appears too much. Oh! weep, Christian, and let your sorrow rise. Is not the price all but too great, that your Beloved should for you resign himself. Oh! I should think if a person were saved from death by another, he would always feel deep grief if his deliverer lost his life in the attempt. I had a friend, who, standing by the side of a piece of frozen water, saw a young lad in it, and sprang upon the ice in order to save him. After clutching the boy he held him in his hands, and cried out, “Here he is! here he is! I have saved him.” But just as they caught hold of the boy, he sank himself, and his body was not found for some time afterwards, when he was quite dead. Oh! it is so with Jesus. My soul was drowning. From heaven’s high portals he saw me sinking in the depths of hell. He plunged in.
He SANK beneath his heavy woes,
To raise me to a crown;
There’s ne’er a gift his hand bestows,
But cost his heart a groan.
Ah! we may indeed regret our sin, since it slew Jesus.
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