Often chided by readers of Scripture for hiding their faith, Nicodemus and Joseph, two Pharisees, showed more courage than you realize.
We
know from the Gospels that Jesus’ ministry provoked mostly widespread
opposition from religious leaders, both the Sadducees and the Pharisees.
But the Bible also shows specific examples of religious leaders who
earnestly sought to understand Jesus and eventually became followers of
Christ. Of these, Nicodemus is perhaps the most prominent. Nicodemus was
a Pharisee but held a seat on the Sanhedrin, the prestigious, 70-member
ruling body dominated by Sadducees. We first meet him in the pages of
John’s gospel as he seeks out a secret meeting with Jesus at night and
probes the itinerant teacher with a series of questions.
It’s easy
to question why Nicodemus came to Jesus at night, away from the crowds.
Those of us who have never faced any opposition for our Christian
faith, who probably have more fish stickers on our cars than we do
unbelieving friends, might not get what it is like to live as a
Christian in a desperately hostile environment, but we would be foolish
to consider Nicodemus a coward in this moment.
Even
to meet with Jesus at night was an act of courage, a willingness to
obey that small voice of faith. To be seen with Jesus carried enormous
risk for such a prestigious religious leader. The Pharisees would soon
cast off anyone from their synagogue if they professed faith in Jesus
(John 9:22), something Jesus would later warn his disciples of in his
Upper Room Discourse (16:2).
Jesus never rebuked Nicodemus for his
slow, secret quest. R. C. Sproul says this is in keeping “with our
Lord’s refusal to put out a faith that, being mingled with fear, seems
to be a smoldering wick (Isa. 42:3).”
We should be thankful for
this smoldering wick, for Nicodemus’s probing questions of Jesus
inspired perhaps the most beautiful words in all of Scripture: Jesus’
declaration of his mission, words the Spirit of God has blown into the
hearts of so many in the millennia since this fateful encounter. “For
God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever
believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). By
these words, many smoldering wicks, many Nicodemuses, have met Jesus in
their own dark nights of the soul and have emerged as children of the
light.
We don’t know if Nicodemus converted that night, but he
shows up again in John’s gospel (John 7:50–51), defending Jesus in what
seems to be a private discussion among religious leaders. The Pharisees
were angry that Jesus had declared himself to be “living water” at the
Feast of Tabernacles, a sacred rite that commemorated God’s faithfulness
in the desert (Lev. 23:42–43). Jesus invited the Jewish pilgrims in
Jerusalem that day to believe in him and find “streams of living water”
(John 7:38, CSB), a fulfillment of the prediction by the prophets of the
coming of the Holy Spirit (Isa. 55:1; Joel 2:28). His claims of deity
caused some to believe but also enraged many Pharisees at what they
considered blasphemy. Nicodemus urged them to resist a rush to judgment
on Jesus’ deity, reminding them that the law required doing due
diligence.
Again, we don’t really know the state of Nicodemus’s
faith at this point. Was he still a seeker just pleading for a full
hearing for Jesus? Was he speaking of his own journey, of his own
personal investigation of the claims of Christ? We cannot say. But he
shows courage in standing up to the crowd. Months later, Jesus would not
get a fair hearing from the very ruling body, the Sanhedrin, that
Nicodemus served with such distinction.
Integrity and wealth
In
the Christmas story, we meet an unknown man named Joseph who helped
care for Jesus in his birth. In the Easter story, we meet another
unknown man named Joseph who helps care for Jesus in his death.
Joseph
of Arimathea shows up in every gospel account of Jesus’ death. He is
described by Matthew as a “rich man” and a “disciple of Jesus” (Matt.
27:57–60). Mark describes him as a “prominent member” of the Sanhedrin
and someone who was “waiting for the kingdom of God” (Mark 15:42–46).
Luke calls Joseph “a good and upright man,” a “member of the Council”
who didn’t agree with their decision to seek Jesus’ death (Luke
23:50–51). John calls him a “disciple of Jesus” who kept his faith
secret due to fear of his fellow religious leaders (John 19:38).
Joseph’s
hometown was the Judean village of Arimathea, a town in the hilly
region of Ephraim, 20 miles northwest of Jerusalem. Some scholars think
this was also the hometown of Samuel, Israel’s celebrated prophet and
priest.
The gospel writers are clear that Joseph, like Job, was
known for both his integrity and his wealth. This is a good reminder
that riches and righteousness are not always mutually exclusive. God
often calls the poor and ignoble of this world, but that doesn’t
preclude him from calling wealthy Christians to use their means for the
kingdom of God. Joseph was one of those men.
Like every faithful
Pharisee, he was looking for the kingdom of God, but Mark’s gospel tells
us that while many of his peers found that “kingdom” in obedience to
the law and personal piety, Joseph saw the fulfillment of those kingdom
promises in Jesus. But as a Sanhedrin member, he had to keep his
allegiance a secret.
Unlikely allies
The
lives of Nicodemus and Joseph converged as they became unlikely actors
in God’s redemptive drama. These two had a lot in common as Pharisees on
a Sadducee-dominated Sanhedrin. Pharisees were minorities among
Israel’s elite leadership, even as they were the majority sect among the
people.
We can imagine how Nicodemus, Joseph, and other Pharisees
on the council must have winced at the elitism of their peers and
fought for the voice of the people among the corruption and
self-dealings of the leadership class. Pharisees resisted the
worldliness of the Greco-Roman culture and loathed their Roman
occupiers. They wanted Israel to live up to its calling by God to be a
distinct people. They eagerly awaited the kingdom of God and the
resurrection at the end of the age. The Sadducees were much more
sophisticated, preferring accommodation with the Romans, even purchasing
power through corruption and backroom deals. They held the seats of
power, including the chief priest roles. And they rejected belief in
miracles and the afterlife.
But it was Jesus, even more than the
Sanhedrin, who would bring Nicodemus and Joseph close. To believe in
this itinerant rabbi and his claims to be the Son of God put them at
odds even with their Pharisee brethren. We can’t imagine the wrestling
in their souls as they straddled their identity as proud Pharisees and
the tug of the Spirit on their hearts as they investigated the claims of
Jesus. These two men, strong in integrity and righteousness, could not
escape the conclusion that would put them at odds with their synagogue,
their families, and their community.
But how providential of God
to have Nicodemus and Joseph find each other. We can imagine the hallway
conversations and the late-night sessions discussing Jesus. And we can
then imagine the terrible discomfort each would feel as Jesus was
arrested and stood trial before their august body. Did they push back
among other members of the Sanhedrin? Did they reiterate Nicodemus’s
plea that his fellow religious leaders resist the rush to judgment and
give Jesus a fair hearing? Luke tells us Joseph disagreed with the
decision, but how strongly did they voice that dissent, and were they
silenced?
How powerless these two powerful men must have felt! Yet
what they couldn’t know and didn’t yet understand was that Jesus’ march
to the cross was not really the work of the Sanhedrin.
Going public
Somewhere
between the trial before the Sanhedrin and Jesus’ crucifixion, Joseph
of Arimathea and Nicodemus made a decision to take their private faith
public with an extraordinary gesture. Perhaps exhausted by the long
days, disillusioned by their fellow Pharisees’ embrace of injustice, or
grieving the loss of the one upon whom they’d rested their messianic
hopes, they decided to give Jesus in his death what Israel had refused
him in his life: acknowledgment as King. He would be buried not in an
empty field but in a rich man’s tomb, fulfilling the words of the
prophet Isaiah (Isa. 53:9).
So Joseph requested permission from
Pilate, the Roman governor, to take Jesus’ body off the cross. The
request caught Pilate by surprise. Typically, a criminal would be dumped
into an empty grave or pauper’s field, buried ignominiously under a
pile of rocks. So this was highly unusual. Perhaps Pilate was relieved
that this Jesus problem was finally taken care of. But more than that,
he was probably surprised to see a member of the Sanhedrin standing
before him, willing to risk position and reputation to give an enemy of
the state, one convicted of treason and insurrection, a king’s burial.
There
were many important considerations for Joseph and Nicodemus and for the
women who accompanied them to the burial of Jesus. It was important not
only to get the body off the cross but also to bury it quickly before
sundown and the start of Sabbath on Passover week, when work had to
cease. Joseph’s tomb made sense as a burial spot, likely near Golgotha,
where Jesus was crucified, but outside the city walls.
Both Joseph
and Nicodemus made great sacrifices—Joseph in giving up his tomb and
Nicodemus in paying for costly burial spices and ointments. John 19:39
says it was 75 pounds, an extraordinary amount, reminiscent of Mary’s
extravagant display of washing Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume
(12:3).
Peeling Jesus’ bloody body off the cross and carrying him
the distance to the tomb was a difficult task. He had to be carefully
wrapped in bandages and anointed with both myrrh as a preservative and
aloes and perfumes to minimize the stench of decomposition. This was an
act of love for Joseph and Nicodemus: two high-ranking religious
officials stooping low and exhausting themselves to honor their Lord.
You imagine their friends, their families, wondering why these two men
of stature would take such care for a rejected Messiah, a despised enemy
of Rome.
We can’t know exactly what they were thinking as they
performed this thankless task—whether, for instance, fear and doubt were
creeping into their hearts. But we know that their private faith, the
secret they whispered to each other in the halls of Jerusalem, would now
be public.
Quiet shouts
It’s easy to
wonder why Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea were so quiet about their
faith. But I think this perspective is unfair and shortsighted. Courage
looks different on different people and in different situations.
At
times Jesus did not speak or move about openly, knowing his enemies
were seeking him but that his time had not yet come. There are
situations where prudence is the best witness: Think of Christians in
closed countries, working to slowly plant seeds of gospel witness. Or
Christians in prominent leadership roles who must weigh their words in
order to steward their influence. This isn’t always cowardice. Sometimes
we need a Dietrich Bonhoeffer faith, willing to suffer death for our
convictions. But other times we need a Brother Andrew faith, stealthily
working underground to advance God’s mission.
This is hard to
comprehend in an age when we think every thought has to be expressed all
the time on every medium. Public proclamation is important, but so is
the need to “make it your ambition to lead a quiet life” (1 Thess. 4:11)
and to be “quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry”
(James 1:19).
Nicodemus and Joseph showed courage when it
mattered, and not a moment too soon. Their inclusion in the Easter story
shows us how God works in mysterious ways to accomplish his purposes in
the world; it shows the gospel’s power to work in the most surprising
places. The Sanhedrin seemed the last place to find disciples of Jesus.
Even as the kingdom of God was moving among the poor and the outcast, it
was also moving among the powerful, in the very councils that wrote his
death sentence, flashing pinpricks of light into a dark world.
Some
of the most important evidence for Jesus’ resurrection would be
gathered by members of the very body that sent him to the cross.
Nicodemus and Joseph both saw him physically dead, a lifeless corpse
leaking blood and water. And they buried him in a prominent place where
nobody could mistake the miracle, so much so that Jesus’ enemies had to
bribe the Roman soldiers assigned to guard Jesus to lie about it (Matt.
28:11–15).
God used Nicodemus and Joseph in creating the most
important apologetic of the Christian faith. Without the empty tomb, we
are, to quote Paul, “of all men most miserable” (1 Cor. 15:19, KJV). The
secret disciples, by their quiet acts of faithfulness, shouted the good
news of God’s redemptive love to the world.
This is an excerpt from The Characters of Easter by Daniel Darling available today from Moody Publishers. Mar 23, 2024
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