John 20:1-2
Where have they put Him?
( NIRV) John 20
The Tomb Is Empty
1 Early on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb. It was still dark. She saw that the stone had been moved away from the entrance. 2 So she ran to Simon Peter and another disciple, the one Jesus loved. She said, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb! We don’t know where they have put him!"
After Jesus had been crucified, and placed in a tomb, the bible tells us that Mary Magdalene came to the tomb, and found that the stone had been rolled away to the entrance.
She ran and found Peter and John , and told them " They have taken the Lord’s body out of the tomb, and I don’t know where they have put Him.
There are several things that we can get from this passage today.
I want to look at two of them.
1. They have taken the Lord out of the tomb.
2. I don’t know where they have put Him.
1. -Today, our society , the media, and others, have taken our Lord Jesus Christ out of our schools, out of Christmas, and out of Easter.
Our schools are no longer permitted to talk about Jesus, and no longer to have organized prayer.
They have taken Him out of Christmas. To be politically correct, now we have to refer to the Christmas season as "The winter holidays "
No more "merry Christmas. It is now "Happy holidays.
Most cities will not let anyone display the manger scene on public property. This past year , 2006, I read where a town’s city council made the town take down a sign that said "Merry Christmas".
A lot of department stores won’t allow Christmas music , or Christmas songs to be played in their stores.
When I was in school, in the 50’s and early 60’s, our teachers would let us put up Christmas scenes. Not just winter scenes, but the nativity scenes, along with snowflakes, and Santa.
Even Christmas cards that you buy today, it is hard to find any with the Lord Jesus , or the wise men, or anything that pertains to Christ’s birth.
Some Churches, have even gone away from traditional Christmas programs.
2. - At Easter, our society has glamorized the bunny rabbit, and eggs. The death, burial, and resurection of our Lord, seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle.
Even some churches have taken down symbols of the cross. Some don’t want to talk about the blood of Jesus, because they say that it is too gross.
They say that it makes some in the church feal uncomfortable.
Well I am sure that Jesus was uncomfortable , while suffering on that cross. I am sure that He was uncomfortable with the stripes , and with the crown of thorns.
I am sure that He was uncomfortable with the spear stuck in His side.
I am sure that He felt uncomfortable when they mocked Him, and called Him names.
Like the song says, " The blood that gives us strength from day to day, it will never lose it’s power."
1 Peter 1:19-20
But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot: [20] Who verily was foreordained before the foundation of the world, but was manifest in these last times for you,
Rev. 7:14
And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
Hebrews 10:19
Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus,
We are made right with God, only through the blood of Jesus.
Some have taken Him out of their plans. They no longer want to be disciples. They no longer want to be disciplined. They want free rule of their lives. It is no longer,, what would Jesus do?
It is now, what is in it for me? What has happened to our devotion to Jesus.
2. I don’t know where they have put Him.
Where have we put Jesus?
What happened to our passion for Him?
Where have we put Him in our lives? He no longer seems to be first. We have put Him farther down the list, in our priorities.
One of the best illustrations that I have ever read about the sacrafice of Jesus for us was submitted by Russell Brownworth.
It goes as follows.
John Griffith lived through the Great Depression. He got a job on the edge of the Mississippi caring for one of those great, huge railroad bridges that cross that mighty river.
John brought his 8-year-old son, Greg, to work with him to see what Daddy did all day. The little boy was wide-eyed with excitement, and he clapped his hands with glee when the huge bridge went up at the beck and call of his mighty father. He watched with wonderment as the huge boats steamed down the Mississippi.
Twelve o’clock came, and his father put up the bridge. There were no trains due for a good while, and they went out a couple of hundred feet on a catwalk out over the river to an observation deck. They sat down, opened their brown bag, and began to eat their lunch.
The time whirled by, and suddenly they were drawn instantly back to reality by the shrieking of a distant train whistle. John Griffith quickly looked at his watch. He saw that it was time for the 1:07, the Memphis Express, with 400 passengers, which would be rushing across that bridge in just a couple of minutes.
He knew he had just enough time, so without panic but with alacrity he told his son to stay where he was. He leaped to his feet, jumped to the catwalk, ran back, climbed the ladder to the control room, went in, put his hand on the huge lever that controlled the bridge, looked up the river and down to see if any boats were coming, as was his custom, and then looked down to see if there were any beneath the bridge.
And suddenly he saw a sight that froze his blood and caused his heart to leap into his throat. His boy! His boy had tried to follow him to the control room and had fallen into the great, huge gear box that had the monstrous gears that operated this massive bridge. His left leg was caught between the two main gears, and the father knew that as sure as the sun came up in the morning, if he pushed that lever his son would be ground in the midst of eight tons of whining, grinding steel.
His eyes filled with tears of panic. His mind whirled. What could he do? He saw a rope there in the control room. He could rush down the ladder and out the catwalk, tie off the rope, lower himself down, extricate his son, climb back up the rope, run back into the control room, and lower the bridge.
No sooner had his mind done that exercise than he knew--he knew there wasn’t time. He’d never make it, and there were 400 people on that train.
Suddenly he heard the whistle again, this time startlingly closer. And he could hear the clicking of the locomotive wheels on the track, and he could hear the rapid puffing of the train. What could he do? What could he do! There were 400 people, but this was ... this was his son, this was his only son. He was a father! He knew what he had to do, so he buried his head in his arm and he pushed the gear forward.
The great bridge slowly lowered into place just as the express train roared across. He lifted up his tear-smeared face and looked straight into the flashing windows of that train as they flashed by one after another. He saw men reading the afternoon paper, a conductor in uniform looking at a large vest-pocket watch, ladies sipping tea out of teacups, and little children pushing long spoons into plates of ice cream. Nobody looked in the control room. Nobody looked at his tears. Nobody, nobody looked down to the great gear box.
In heart-wrenching agony, he beat against the window of the control room, and he said, "What’s wrong with you people? Don’t you care? I sacrificed my son for you. Don’t any of you care?" Nobody looked. Nobody heard. Nobody heeded. And the train disappeared across the river.
They have taken the Lord away, where have they put Him?
The question today is , " where have we put Jesus?
