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Shiloh: the Man of Sorrows

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Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Jan 31, 1911

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 38, No. 5.

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Shiloh: the Man of Sorrows

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Copyright 1910, Pacific Press Publishing Association

Chapter LI. In Joseph's Tomb

It was late in the evening of the day following the crucifixion — the evening after the Sabbath.
The great round moon hung in a cloudless sky, and looked down with her white face upon the "city of pilgrims' tents" — for we must not forget that it was Passover week, and Jerusalem was crowded with guests.
A little way outside the city walls, the craggy rocks of Golgotha gleamed white in the moonlight, and threw black shadows over the garden of death — skull-strewn and desolate.
Three massive crosses, stripped of their victims, bore mute testimony to the scenes of horror that had been so lately witnessed by the sympathizing heavens and the trembling earth, and, as if in agony, lifted their great arms toward the pitying face of the moon.
That Sabbath day had been unlike any other "since the flight of years began," and must forever stand by itself, — solitary and alone upon the great calendar of time. Not far away was the new tomb of the Arimathean councilor, within whose dark chambers lay, peacefully at rest, the Crucified of Calvary, — the Shiloh of Jacob, — the Messiah of the prophets; for the "midst of the week" had indeed fully come.
About the tomb, at the demand of the high priests, Pilate had thrown a cordon of a hundred Roman soldiers; and, trembling lest the Mighty One escape them even in death, they had placed upon the door of the rock-ribbed sepulcher the great seal of Rome — regal mistress of the world.
Heart-broken and scattered, the disciples of the crucified Nazarene wandered — sheep without a shepherd — throughout the dreary hours of that Sabbath of rest.
At the foot of Calvary, and not far from the closely guarded sepulcher, sat Matthias, and John, called the Beloved, the son of Zebedee. Now and again the dark form of a sentinel, guarding the tomb of the murdered Nazarene, was outlined against the dim sky, while the murmur of the voices of the soldiers discoursing to each other in the Latin tongue faintly reached the ear of the two men, as they whispered together.
"Thou seest, O John," said Matthias, "how that Pontius Pilate hath placed a guard about the sepulcher of the Master."
"Verily," replied the other, "Annas and Caiaphas fear the power of the Nazarene even in death."
"Thinkest thou they fear that we, His disciples, will steal away His body?"
"They fear not this, Matthias, even tho they have thus said unto the governor. Well they do know that His disciples be heart-broken, and that there remaineth no longer any courage among us. Even the man Bar-jona hath no more any courage, for his hope hath left him. But of a truth I have heard the priests and the Pharisees, and they do fear greatly. And behold, to-day," continued John, "even on the Sabbath day, they have held a council at the house of Joseph Caiaphas, to determine what shall be done with the body of the Man, — for verily, Matthias, these rulers of Israel fear not the disciples, but the disciples' Master; — even in death do they fear Him."
"Ah, thou son of Zebedee! my own heart sinketh with fear, and I am sore afraid; for Herod Antipas murdered my master, even the Baptizer, and now hath Pontius Pilate murdered thine. And we — whither shall we go? for we fear the Jews. Why then should we, we whose hope hath perished with the death of this our Master, seek to steal away His dead body?"
"But even thus did they say unto Pilate," replied John. "But O Matthias! what shall I do for the mother of my Lord? for the woman is now unto me even as mine own mother. For even this Sabbath day, as we hurried past the temple, one coming out of the court of the Gentiles said unto us: 'Behold, the veil of the temple is rent in twain from the top to the bottom, and the eyes of the common people may behold that which only the eyes of the high priests have ever seen. And thus hath it been since the Nazarene perished!' And when the mother of my Lord had heard the words of this man, she said, 'Even thus is mine own heart torn asunder.'" And the speaker sighed deeply.
"Sawest thou the multitude, O John, who came up to the temple yesterday that they might be healed — the sick and the lame and the blind? But the Healer was nailed to yonder cross on Golgotha, and their cry for pity and for mercy was in vain. Didst thou hear their voices as they cried for the Master even to-day?"
"Ah! but none regarded them. Rememberest thou the woman whom they called Rachel, who was in the house of Simon of Bethany on the day of the feast which he made for our Lord?"
"I remember the woman Rachel, of Damascus," replied Matthias; "she had a father, an old man who had the palsy; and when she had seen Lazarus at the feast, and heard of the loving-kindness of the Master, forthwith she took her way back to Damascus that she might bring her father to be healed. And yesterday she brought him, and sat in the court of the temple; and I heard her ask one of the priests as he passed out, 'Where is the Healer, even Jesus of Nazareth? for I have brought my father from afar, even from Damascus, that he may be healed.'"
"What said the priest unto her?" questioned the other.
"He said unto her, 'Go thou unto the physicians of Damascus, for this Fellow did miracles but by Beelzebub, the prince of devils.' 'Ah; but I have seen the Man, at the feast of Simon of Bethany saw I Him,' replied the woman, 'and His eyes were filled with Godlike love and pity as they looked into mine; and now, where is He, that I may go even unto Him, with this my father?'"
"Then," continued Matthias, "the scribes and Pharisees who stood by laughed her to scorn, and, — thou knowest Jazer the scribe, who now sitteth with the Sanhedrin, — this man answered her sternly, 'Take away this old man, thy father, that the holy temple be not defiled with his presence, — and behold, the Man, Jesus of Nazareth, hangeth upon the cross of Golgotha between two thieves, the companions of Barabbas!' and the scribe laid hold of the woman roughly."
" 'They have put Him to death, — the Desire of Israel,' said the old man; and I saw him sink back upon his couch whereon they carried him, with a gesture of despair. 'They have put Him to death, my Rachel, and I, alas! my daughter! how shall I return unto my home in Damascus? for thou hast spent all the living that we had in bringing me hither!'"
"Then the face of the old man grew ghastly white," continued Matthias, "and when I would have spoken unto him, behold, he was dead."
When Matthias had finished his story, the young man John was weeping. "O my Master!" he murmured, "O that I might rest my head upon Thy breast as aforetime! But they have crucified Thee, and my hope hath perished. Ah, Judas of Kerioth!" he continued, speaking more to himself than to Matthias, "Judas, thou false one! thou wast a thief and a traitor. With a kiss of treachery thou didst betray Him, my Master. But they have carried Him out at the southern gate of the city, even the gate that leadeth into the valley of Hinnom, and there have they left Thy festering body to be devoured by the birds of heaven!"
Meanwhile, even as the young men John and Matthias were conversing together at the foot of Calvary, another young man, clad in the garments of the priesthood, and with lantern in hand, made his way hastily up the slope, toward the lonely rock-bound tomb of Joseph of Arimathea, where still rested the Crucified of Calvary.
It is past the hour of midnight; and the Passover moon already rides low in the western sky. The shadows thrown by the gray rocks are dark and gruesome. The red light of the lantern flashes in and out among the tangle of vines and the dark green of the olive-trees. A startled night-bird shrieks a note of warning to her mate, and a noisy insect in the dewy shrubbery trills softly.
Past groups of watchful soldiers hurries the man, unchallenged; past the solemn guard who paces back and forth before the carefully sealed door of the tomb — unchallenged! for well do they know this man at whose insistent demand they have been placed in this garden of death, and commanded to watch the tomb of the Arimathean, where sleeps the Man of Nazareth. Unchallenged he walks even to the rock-bound entrance, sealed with the seal of Rome, and pauses before the door.
"Ho, Julius," addressing one of the guards, "hast thou seen any of the accursed followers of this Nazarene attempting to enter the garden?"
Without waiting for the soldier to reply, the sturdy centurion, whom they called Lucius, turned upon his heel and faced the questioner:
"What thinkest thou? art thou mad, O thou high priest of the temple! Why askest thou such question of a Roman soldier? Are there not here an hundred guards of Pontius Pilate? Is not this enough to beat back a dozen Galilean fishermen who might be so foolhardy as to attempt to steal away this Nazarene's dead body?"
"Verily," ventured the priest, "but thou knowest not the mighty power of this Man, and thou rememberest that He said that after three days He would rise again. Of a truth He was in league with Beelzebub, and so be His disciples."
"Was not this He who raised Lazarus of Bethany from the dead?" questioned another of the guards.
"Of a truth it is," replied a third; "and they tell me that the Man was betrayed by one of His fellows. In very deed I do remember that as I was passing through the outer court of the temple on Mount Moriah, on the day when this Nazarene was crucified, there came a man and entered the temple hurriedly. He was tall and dark, and his eyes seemed filled with a restless fire. He carried in his hand a bag of silver, and I saw him tremble as he threw down the silver upon the marble floor, and cried, saying, 'I have sinned in that I have betrayed innocent blood,' and he begged thee, O Caiaphas, to spare the Nazarene."
"The fellow was a lunatic; and he was from Kerioth of Judea," stammered Caiaphas, raising his lantern and carefully examining the seal placed upon the great rock at the entrance.
"If the man of Kerioth was indeed a madman, what art thou, O thou high priest of a rebellious people?" cried Lucius, the centurion, sneeringly; then turning to one of his companions, he continued:
"Seest thou this priest? Verily he is mad! Knoweth not this fellow that none dare lay finger upon the seal of Rome! And even so, am not I sufficient, with an hundred chosen men of the soldiers of Pilate, to prevent the taking away of this dead body? Moreover, if the cords of this seal be tampered with, shall I not know it? And if any Roman soldier sleepeth at his post, surely his life payeth the penalty!"
Meanwhile, beside the massive rock stood Joseph Caiaphas. Back and forth — back and forth crept the trembling fingers over the cords which stretched across the entrance of the tomb! Carefully he examined the seal by the light of his lantern; and finding it still untouched and unmolested, he heaved a deep sigh of relief, gathered up his priestly robes, and hurried away.
The hated Nazarene was still a prisoner within His rock-bound tomb.
(To be continued)