Commentary - John 19:38-42

Bird's-eye view

In this closing scene of the crucifixion, the providence of God orchestrates a burial for His Son that is both honorable and rich with theological meaning. As the disciples who followed Jesus publicly have scattered, two men who followed Him secretly step out of the shadows and into the historical record. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, both powerful members of the Sanhedrin, risk their reputation, their status, and quite possibly their lives to give the Lord a kingly burial. Their fear of man is finally conquered by a greater reality. The Lord of life is dead, and they will not have Him dishonored. This act of devotion fulfills prophecy, ensuring Jesus is buried with the rich, and sets the stage for the resurrection. The details are not incidental: the lavish spices, the clean linen, the garden, and the new, unused tomb all testify to the unique identity of the one being laid to rest. This is not the ignominious end of a criminal, but the planting of the seed of the new creation.

The burial of Jesus is a fundamental article of our faith, as the creed confesses, "He was crucified, died, and was buried." It is the definitive statement that He was truly dead. There was no swoon, no illusion. The Son of God tasted death in its fullness. But this burial is also an act of enthronement. The very men who were part of the council that condemned Him now anoint Him. The King is prepared for His rest, but this rest will be short. The tomb is borrowed, for He will not need it long. The haste of the burial, driven by the approaching Sabbath, reminds us that God's timetable is perfect. The old creation Sabbath is about to give way to the Lord's Day, the first day of the new creation, which will dawn with an empty tomb in this very garden.

Outline

Context In John

This passage forms the bridge between the crucifixion and the resurrection, the final moments of Christ's humiliation before His exaltation. John has just meticulously recorded the events at the cross, emphasizing Jesus' sovereign control even in His death (He "gave up His spirit"). He has also highlighted the fulfillment of Scripture in the piercing of His side and the fact that none of His bones were broken. Now, the focus shifts to the handling of His body. The disciples are gone, scattered as Jesus predicted. Peter has denied Him. In their place, God raises up two of the most unlikely figures imaginable: Joseph and Nicodemus, both members of the Jewish ruling council. Their appearance here is stunning. Nicodemus was last seen in John 3, coming to Jesus by night with questions, and briefly defending Him in John 7. Joseph has not been mentioned at all. Their actions here bring their quiet faith into the full light of day, demonstrating that the seed of the kingdom had taken root even within the very institution that orchestrated Jesus' death. This burial account is the necessary prelude to John 20; the specific location and nature of the tomb are crucial for verifying the resurrection that follows.

Key Issues

From Fear to Faithfulness

One of the central dramas in this short narrative is the transformation of Joseph and Nicodemus. Both were men of immense power and prestige, and both had been drawn to Jesus. Yet, their discipleship was conducted "secretly," behind closed doors, "because of his fear of the Jews." This is a fear we can all understand. They had everything to lose, their positions, their wealth, their social standing. To openly associate with a condemned blasphemer from Galilee would have been professional and social suicide.

But the cross changes the calculus. What was the point of protecting their standing in a world whose rulers had just murdered the Lord of Glory? The brutal, public, shameful death of Jesus seems to have been the catalyst that burned away their fear. While the bold disciples fled in fear, the fearful disciples became bold. Their love for Christ overcame their fear of their colleagues. This is a powerful illustration of how God's grace works. He meets us in our weakness, but He does not leave us there. The cross of Christ has a way of reordering our priorities and our fears. When we see what He endured for us, it puts the threats of men into their proper, diminished perspective. The question is no longer "What will they do to me?" but rather "What is the only fitting response to a love like this?"

Verse by Verse Commentary

38 Now after these things Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus; and Pilate granted permission. So he came and took away His body.

The action begins immediately "after these things," after the spear, the blood and water, the confirmation of death. Joseph of Arimathea steps onto the stage. John identifies him with two crucial descriptions. First, he was a disciple. The seed had been planted. Second, he was a secret disciple, motivated by fear of his peers, the Jewish authorities. But the cross has a way of making secrets public. His fear had kept him silent, but now he performs an act of audacious public loyalty. He goes to Pilate, the man who washed his hands of Jesus, to request the body. This was a risky move. He was outing himself, identifying with an executed enemy of the state. Pilate's permission is a small picture of God's providence. The Roman governor, who cared nothing for this Jewish teacher, becomes an unwitting instrument in securing an honorable burial for the Son of God.

39 And Nicodemus, who had first come to Him by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about one hundred litras.

Joseph is not alone. He is joined by Nicodemus, another man moving from the darkness into the light. John reminds us of his history; this is the man of the famous nighttime conversation in John 3. He is no longer coming by night. He comes now in the waning daylight, in full view of the world, to care for the body of the man who told him he must be born again. And he does not come empty-handed. He brings an enormous quantity of spices, a hundred litras, which is roughly seventy-five pounds. This was not a perfunctory anointing; this was a lavish, extravagant, royal provision. This is the kind of burial reserved for a king. The irony is thick. The religious leaders had mocked Jesus as a king, but here two of their own number are giving Him a king's burial.

40 So they took the body of Jesus and bound it in linen wrappings with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews.

Together, these two respected leaders perform the tender and ceremonially defiling work of undertakers. They take the brutalized body of the Lord, a body that had been whipped, beaten, and pierced, and they treat it with the utmost honor. They bound it in clean linen strips, layering in the fragrant myrrh and aloes. John notes that this was in keeping with Jewish burial customs. Jesus was not an ethereal phantom; He was a true man, with a real body, and His body was cared for and buried according to the customs of His people. The spices were not for mummification or preservation, that was an Egyptian practice. For the Jews, this was an act of love and honor, to anoint the body and counteract the stench of decay. But in this case, it was an anointing for a body that would never see corruption (Psalm 16:10).

41 Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.

The location is profoundly significant. The crucifixion and burial take place in a garden. The first Adam sinned in a garden, bringing death into the world. The second Adam, Christ, confronts death in a garden, in order to bring life. In this garden was a tomb, and John gives us two crucial facts about it. It was "new," and "no one had yet been laid" in it. This was not a common grave. This was a freshly hewn tomb, likely belonging to the wealthy Joseph. Its newness and emptiness are vital. It ensures that when the tomb is found empty on Sunday morning, there can be no confusion, no claim that someone else's body had been moved or that the women went to the wrong place. This tomb was prepared for one occupant only, and its vacancy would soon testify to the whole world that this occupant had conquered death.

42 Therefore because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.

The final verse gives us the reason for the haste. It was the "day of Preparation," the Friday before the Sabbath, which would begin at sundown. All work had to cease before then, including the work of burial. The tomb's proximity was another stroke of divine providence. It was nearby, making it possible for Joseph and Nicodemus to complete their task before the Sabbath began. So they laid Him there. The Lord of the Sabbath is laid to rest just as the Sabbath is about to begin. He rests in the tomb on the seventh day, just as God rested on the seventh day of creation. But this is the end of the old order. When the sun rises on the first day of the next week, it will not be another Sabbath, but the Lord's Day, the day of new creation, inaugurated by the King who has finished His work and risen from His rest.

Application

This passage calls us to examine the nature of our own discipleship. Is there any area where we are "secretly" a disciple of Jesus out of fear? We may not face a Sanhedrin, but we face the disapproval of our culture, our colleagues, or even our families. The courage of Joseph and Nicodemus is a potent rebuke to all such fear. The cross of Christ ought to be the great fear-killer in the life of a believer. It shows us the worst that the world can do, and it shows us that God's purpose triumphs even there. A faith that remains secret is a faith that is in danger of suffocating. True faith, when it beholds the glory of Christ, must eventually step out into the light.

Furthermore, we are called to give Christ an honorable burial in our own lives. What does this mean? It means we treat His death as a reality that changes everything. We do not treat the gospel as a minor addendum to our lives. Like Nicodemus, we must bring our best, most extravagant worship to Him. We honor His death when we put to death the sin in our own lives for which He died. We honor His burial when we reckon ourselves "buried with Him through baptism into death" (Rom. 6:4), so that the old man is put in the grave. And we do all this in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection. We bury our dead in "grave gardens" because we know that, like our Lord, they will rise again. The burial of Jesus is not a tragedy; it is the planting of the seed from which the life of the whole world has grown.