A Different Joseph

I'm glad there were so many nonperfect people in the Bible. They all had their hangups, they all made blunders-some made some really big ones. Yet God loved them anyways. God used them in spite of themselves.

One character in particular that I am fascinated with at the moment is Joseph. Not the Joseph with the fancy coat, not Joseph the father of Jesus. No I'm interested in a rich guy named Joseph from Arimathea.

It's not that he was rich. It's more his position. Joseph of Arimathea was a prominent and well-respected member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish council that condemned Jesus.

But again it is even more than that.

Joseph of Arimathea was a secret disciple of Jesus.

There isn't a whole lot about who he was in the Bible. Just a sentence or two. But those sentences say alot.

Luke tells us he did not consent to the decision and action of the council. Yet he kept his following quiet. Did he speak up at any time during the Sanhedrin's trial of Jesus? Did he tell them what they were doing was wrong? Did he storm out in anger when the decision was made? Did he call in sick that day and hide out at home?

We don't know. All the scriptures tell us is he was a good and upright man who did not agree with what they did. But because of his fear of the Jews, he kept his discipleship quiet.

Sounds kind of like one of my other favorite people of the Bible-the disciple Peter-who also was too afraid to take his opportunity to make a stand, but who also was given an amazing opportunity to do something great for God in spite of himself.

However, after Jesus died, Joseph stepped out bravely and went before Pilate to ask for Jesus' body.

Can you even begin to imagine what that must have been like? Not just the sweaty trembling moment of stepping up to do the right thing, but to have the honor of preparing his savior's body for burial. I can just see him, bent over Jesus' lifeless form, cleaning each of his bloody wounds with loving hands, remorseful tears for what he had done and not done pouring down his face. How much regret did he feel as he wrapped that precious body in linen cloths-as he carried it to his very own tomb?

Did he wonder if God could ever forgive him? Did he agonize over whether or not his decisions changed anything?

The best way to sum it up I think is a quote from Sheila Walsh, one of the wonderful ladies from the Women of Faith conferences: How beautiful is that kind of trust from God: to allow one, even a doubting, fearful one, to hold the broken Christ, the Christ broken for you and me, in his hands.

Mercy and grace never fail.