The above image is from Revealed: A Storybook Bible for Grown-Ups, written and compiled by Ned Bustard. The image is called “Descent from the Cross by Torchlight“ and was created by Rembrandt Harmenszoon Van Rijn.
37 Then Jesus uttered another loud cry and breathed his last. 38 And the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.
39 When the Roman officer who stood facing him saw how he had died, he exclaimed, “This man truly was the Son of God!”
40 Some women were there, watching from a distance, including Mary Magdalene, Mary (the mother of James the younger and of Joseph), and Salome. 41 They had been followers of Jesus and had cared for him while he was in Galilee. Many other women who had come with him to Jerusalem were also there.
42 This all happened on Friday, the day of preparation, the day before the Sabbath. As evening approached, 43 Joseph of Arimathea took a risk and went to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body. (Joseph was an honored member of the high council, and he was waiting for the Kingdom of God to come.) 44 Pilate couldn’t believe that Jesus was already dead, so he called for the Roman officer and asked if he had died yet. 45 The officer confirmed that Jesus was dead, so Pilate told Joseph he could have the body. 46 Joseph bought a long sheet of linen cloth. Then he took Jesus’ body down from the cross, wrapped it in the cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been carved out of the rock. Then he rolled a stone in front of the entrance. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joseph saw where Jesus’ body was laid.
Mark 15:37-47
Dear God, the moments after Jesus’s death are some of the most precious to me because they represent the depths of misunderstanding and lostness for his followers and family, and the wicked delight of those who were threatened by him and killed him. Regarding Caiaphas and those with him, I wonder what the Passover was like for him over the next 24-36 hours. Did he feel convicted over what he had done? Was he afraid of what Jesus’s followers would do (as represented by him asking for guards for the tomb)? Or was it a time of celebration and calculated caution? I don’t know. I do know how Judas felt–guilt to the point of suicide.
What I do know is that the followers and Mary were devastated. Disillusioned, even. This wasn’t what they had dreamed of. This wasn’t what they thought about. Where was the kingdom James and John aspired to help Jesus rule from his right and his left (Mark 10:35-45)? Where was the power? Why was Rome still in charge? What would their standing now be in the church.
With that, I want to look at Rembrandt’s image and see what details he thought about as he pondered this story:
- Someone is preparing a stretcher on which they can carry his body to the tomb.
- It looks like they used a sheet to lower Jesus from the cross with someone on the ladder and someone catching him below. The person on the ladder almost looks like a woman with no facial hair and long hair, but I can’t be sure. After reading John’s account, I would think this is Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus (John 19:38-42), but I think Rembrandt had another picture of this.
- The person on the far right of the image has a special hat so I am assuming this is a Pharisee. Perhaps Caiaphas.
- There is someone down below the man holding Jesus to the right. It looks like he is ready to help should the man holding Jesus lose his balance.
- There are faint images of others behind the man preparing the stretcher. I assume these are just onlookers.
- There is the man holding the torch. This is a unique thought. I don’t think anyone ever thought about the need for light. I would actually assume it wasn’t dark yet because they had to get the body down before sundown for the Passover (that’s why the broke the legs of the other two and put a spear into Jesus’s side (John 19:31-34), but because the Sun wasn’t down yet doesn’t mean they didn’t need a little more light.
- Now here’s the big one I noticed this morning that I’ve never thought of: The man on the other side of the cross from the man with the torch. He’s on the very edge of the image, and he’s holding a hammer. That’s when I looked to see that one of Jesus’s feet is still nailed to the cross and the man with the hammer is banging it out from the other side. Perhaps one of the feet tore off of the spike as they removed him, but they couldn’t get the other one off without banging it out. I had never thought about removing the spikes before, but Rembrandt must have as he pictured this image in his mind.
Here is the commentary Bustard gave for this scene and story:
One single torch illuminates the extinguished Light of the World. Joseph of Arimathea lays out a white shroud as others struggle to remove Christ’s broken body from the Cross, while one figure still reaches out towards the Savior: But he is not alone. What at first seems to be a very lonely scene upon further inspection fills with a crowd of onlookers and mourners. All their hope is lost for the present, but joy will come on Sunday morning. “We are told that Christ was killed for us, that his death has washed out our sins, and that by dying he disabled death itself. That is the formula. That is Christianity. That is what has to be believed.” –C.S. Lewis.
The only thing I would add to Bustard’s description is that their “hope” and expectation was wrong. They wanted the wrong thing. They wanted what you didn’t want. And you knew better than to give them what they wanted.
Father, you know better than to give me what I want too. I was thinking earlier today about some regrets I have–especially as a parent. There is one decision I made that was the best one I knew to make at the time and was done with an earnest heart, but I would love to change it and have gone down another road. But I started wondering what the unintended consequences of that would have been. As much as I don’t like some of my current circumstances, would the alternative have been even worse? There is obviously no way for me to know this, but that’s where I have to not look back or even forward, but keep myself in this moment. This moment is my reality, and this moment is the one that interfaces with you. Not the past. Not the future. So I offer this moment to you. I worship you. I give you my heart and ask that you would redeem the mistakes I’ve made. Heal those harmed by them, including myself. Let your life and fruit live in and grow out of me.
I pray all of this in your holy, Triune name: The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
Amen
Emails to God 