Eye Witness Accounts - Joseph of Arimathea

My task is done.  There is no more I can do.  I have served my Lord as well as I could, and given him the best that I have.  But my service will never be remembered, my gifts are overcast with gloom and despair.

For I have served my Lord’s dead body, preparing it with myrrh and aloes, and wrapping it in strips of linen.  With the help of Nicodemus, we laid it in the tomb I cut out of the rock with my own hands, the gift I gave my crucified Saviour.  How shallow and meaningless are these final actions!  Why was I so late?  Why did I wait to show my allegiance to him until after his death? 

Oh yes, I am a member of the Council, respected by many.  And my wealth has afforded me a very comfortable life.  In the public’s eye, I have all any man could ask for.  Yet, until I heard the message of Jesus, my life was hollow and empty.  His words freed my heart and I believed.  Yes, I believed, but secretly, oh, so secretly!  How fearful I was that my position and wealth might be lost if I proclaimed my devotion to Him!  Now the Council, even Pilate, know my true feelings.  But what does it matter?  I was too late!  How often I longed for the touch of my Master’sHand!  Instead I have felt the cold and broken flesh of his lifeless body.  Death has claimed my Saviour and death has gripped my heart. 

© Paula Kirkpatrick, 2015