A Meditation on Titian's "Entombment of Christ" (click here to view the painting).

John 19:38-42

Titian’s sixteenth-century oil-on-canvas, The Entombment of Christ, depicts the blackest moment of the early Christian movement: the burial of the promised Redeemer.

In the painting, the body of Jesus lies lifeless in the arms of Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus and John. As the three followers struggle to prepare him for his final resting place, Mary, the mother of Jesus, looks on in silent agony. Mary Magdalene attempts to comfort her—but Mary Magdalene cannot hide her own grief. Ominous clouds and dusk frame the picture in darkness, with the head and torso of Jesus completely lost in shadow. The gloomy hues are contrasted only by the white garment and the pale corpse.

The darkness of the painting captures the blackness of their mood. Our Messiah is dead. Our notion of who we are is dead? How could this happen? How could we be so wrong? This is the moment of ultimate defeat, and the horror of the day weighs heavily on their faces. This first Good Friday evening, absent knowledge of what is to come, finds the followers of Jesus awash in shame and dejection and loneliness. In a sickeningly hopeless moment, without resurrection to cling to, these souls contemplate a world in which Jesus is dead and gone forever. What about tomorrow?

How blessed we are to know the next chapter. We are to be saved by the miracle of the risen Christ. Hope is alive. I am reminded of the words of the late-twentieth century Bill Gaither hymn, which declares: "Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.” We sleep soundly tonight secure in the knowledge that Jesus is alive.