The Passion in Seven Objects: 7. Stone

In the week leading up to Easter we try to enter more deeply into what Jesus is doing as he walks the way to the cross. I offer these brief meditations in that spirit, each day using one of the objects that appears in the gospels.

11th April

7. STONE

Joseph of Arimathea bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb (Mark 15.46).

Stone. And for that matter, rock. We are meant to understand that Jesus is laid to rest and nothing can change the situation. He is surrounded by hardness, by surfaces that will not yield, a rock tomb surrounding him and a boulder sealing the entrance.

Even now, we can see how he was loved and respected. Joseph of Arimathea makes sure that Jesus, dishonoured in the manner of his death, will be honoured in the manner of his burial. The tomb is bought, the linen shroud observes tradition, and the stone across the entrance guards the body from jackals or other wild animals. Women make note of the location so that they can return and pack ointments around the body in a final mark of respect. These seem to be the women we hear about in Luke 8.2, women of resourcefulness who accompany Jesus and the twelve. They seem to be disciples in all but name, and these courageous women have persevered to the bitter end.

This tender care for their loved one cannot disguise the cold hardness of that stone. Hopes have been extinguished. Hope itself has been snuffed out. Nothing can change now.

Jesus told us to feed the hungry. We send charity abroad to feed people who are literally starving. We have food banks closer to home, to help others through a period of emergency. These initiatives fulfil the will of the Lord. But there is another kind of lack that can kill, namely the absence of hope. This kills the spirit. That stone rolled across the entrance to the tomb symbolises the death of hope. Jesus had preached the kingdom of God - the people of the world living in such a way that the earth itself reflected the love, mercy and joy of heaven. A vision that seemed to be extinguished when the stone rumbled into place.

Holy Saturday is a strange time. We know what the disciples did not know at this point, namely how the story will end. The stone is not immoveable. Love will prevail. Life will defeat death. And yet, this is an uneasy interval for us who believe. Deep down we imagine a world without Christ, and it is a world without hope. We think of Proverbs 29:18 'Where there is no vision, the people perish'. More recent and accurate translations make this a proverb about lack of restraint. The message is that where there is no vision, the people throw off any restraint, lose control and the result is deadly. A world where Jesus the Christ is sealed in the tomb is a world like that, where we are left to our own devices.

For the moment, though, let us return to that little group lingering by the tomb. We see grief mingled with affection, despair tempered with thanksgiving. Above all what we see here is personal. This group had walked together, laughed together, feared together, shared meals together. Many years later John will write, still amazed, that they had heard with their ears, seen with their eyes, looked at and touched with their hands the one who was the Word of life (1 John 1:1). Because they knew him and he knew them, soon there will be a shock of recognition when the stone is rolled away. The vision he gave them of the kingdom of God will live once more. When the stone is rolled away we will know that this same Christ speaks to us, and tells us not to linger any more by the tomb but to bring life wherever he sends us.

Jesus you are our present and our future.
Roll away whatever oppresses us,
so that we can be free to give
and able to receive.
Open our eyes to see,
our hands to heal,
our hearts to love.
Where we are hurt
may others bring us your healing.
Where we are in need,
give us your grace.
Join us to others across the face of the earth,
a joyful company of those who know and love you
and who carry this knowledge with us wherever we go.