June 3

"His own new tomb."—Matthew 27:60.

LET me come and see the place where my Lord lay.

It was a disciple's tomb. For Joseph of Arimathea was a lover of Jesus, though hitherto he had followed the Master secretly. But indeed it will be well with me, if my affection, like his, disclose itself when Christ is ridiculed, shamed, rejected. My devotion and obedience will be placed beyond dispute then.

It was a rich man's tomb. Not many mighty are called; but here and there, let me rejoice, the world's great ones are not ashamed to own their Lord. And, for myself, let me put all my little treasures at His disposal, and let me make for Him a home not in my sepulchre, but in my soul.

"O cold and hard, and pinched and bare, This heart is all I have."

It was a new tomb. Never man had lain in it before. And surely it was most fitting that it should be so. Had not my Saviour done a new thing in the world? Had He not routed enemies that before seemed impregnable? Had He not brought in a righteousness and a redemption that looked unattainable? He merited a fresh-made grave.

And it was a garden tomb. Round it sprang the little anemones, and the purple lilies stood kingly and tall, and the blood-red roses blossomed. Over it the fruit trees bent lovingly. Ah, it was a chamber of rest which became my King. For He was changing the desert into the harvest field, and the wilderness into the garden of the Lord. He was planting Paradise on earth again.

My Lord slept well after that awful cross.