Joseph of Arimathea took down a corpse.
Hands still sticky with blood.
Skin already cold.
Touched death. Held it. Wrapped it.
Became ceremonially unclean for Passover.
For a dead man.
Here's what most Christians miss about the burial of Jesus:
Joseph was a wealthy man. A member of the Sanhedrin. A respected Jew.
And Passover was 3 hours away.
The holiest day of the year.
But he climbed Golgotha anyway.
Jewish law was clear:
Touch a dead body = unclean for 7 days.
Can't worship. Can't celebrate. Can't enter the temple.
Joseph knew this.
He'd spent his entire life following these laws.
But Jesus was still hanging on that cross.
Picture it:
The crowds are gone. The soldiers drunk. The women weeping.
Joseph approaches Pilate—the man who just murdered his Lord—and asks permission.
"Can I have the body?"
Pilate grants it.
Now Joseph has to actually DO it.
He walks to Golgotha.
Blood-soaked dirt. The smell of death. Three crosses against the sky.
Jesus in the middle.
Still.
Finally still.
Joseph climbs the ladder.
Grabs the first nail.
Pulls.
Feel the weight of that moment.
God's body in your arms.
The blood isn't dry yet.
It stains his expensive robes.
His hands.
Under his fingernails.
He can taste the iron in the air.
This is what obedience looks like.
Messy. Expensive. Permanent.
Nicodemus shows up.
Another secret disciple. Another Sanhedrin member.
He brings 75 pounds of myrrh and aloes.
That's about $150,000 worth of burial spices in today's money.
Two wealthy men. Two cowards until now.
Finally brave when it's already too late.
They work fast.
Sabbath is coming. They have maybe 3 hours.
Wrap the body. Pour the spices. Seal the tomb.
The sun is setting.
Joseph is now officially unclean.
Can't celebrate Passover tomorrow.
Can't enter the temple for a week.
Think about what he just gave up:
His ceremonial purity.
His Passover celebration.
His reputation (everyone saw him bury a "blasphemer").
His position (the Sanhedrin won't forget this).
His safety (Romans might come for disciples next).
All for a dead man.
But here's what most Christians miss:
Joseph didn't do this expecting resurrection.
He did it expecting NOTHING.
Jesus was dead. Gone. Finished.
This wasn't faith in resurrection.
This was love for a corpse.
That's the part that wrecks me.
Joseph touched death—literally—knowing it meant giving up everything.
Not because Jesus promised him anything.
But because Jesus deserved honor even in death.
Modern Christianity wants clean obedience.
Safe obedience.
Obedience that doesn't cost you Passover.
But Joseph shows us something different:
True discipleship gets your hands dirty.
You want to follow Jesus?
Then stop avoiding the messy parts.
Stop waiting for clean opportunities.
Stop demanding that obedience be convenient.
Joseph climbed Golgotha when everyone else went home.
He wrapped a corpse when he could've stayed clean.
He missed the holiest day of his life to honor a dead "criminal."
He risked everything when there was no visible reward.
That's not religion.
That's worship.
The twist?
Three days later, that tomb was empty.
Joseph gave his grave to Jesus.
Jesus left it empty.
Forever.
Joseph thought he was burying God.
He was actually setting the stage for resurrection.
Your messy obedience?
God's using it too.
Even when you can't see it.
So here's the question:
What are you avoiding because it's too messy?
What obedience are you postponing because it's inconvenient?
What grave are you unwilling to give?
Joseph of Arimathea held death in his arms.
Got blood on his hands.
Missed Passover.
Lost his reputation.
And earned his name in all four Gospels.
Religion says "stay clean."
Discipleship says "get dirty."
Joseph chose discipleship.
What are you choosing?
—TBM
It's our Papa's birthday!
Papa, thank you for being a father to millions, a mentor to generations, and a trailblazer for the Kingdom. Your life continues to inspire us to believe deeper, and live fully for God.
Happy 71st Birthday, Papa! We love and honour you deeply.
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Let’s pray:
Heavenly Father,
I won’t lie, I’m tired.
Life hit me in places I never expected.
I’ve bled in silence.
I’ve cried where no one could hear me.
But today, I refuse to stay crushed.
I refuse to let pain be my final story.
Breathe on these dry bones, Lord.
Take the pieces of my broken heart and write a testimony that will silence hell.
Take the nights I thought I wouldn’t survive and turn them into mornings full of glory.
I decree:
•My tears are becoming rivers of breakthrough.
•My weakness is turning into unshakable strength.
•My scars will preach louder than my words.
Father, let my life be living proof that You still raise the forgotten, You still crown the rejected, You still heal the crushed.
I will not die here.
I will not drown here.
I will rise from this fire and I will shine. Amen.
The man who died next to Jesus had nothing.
No baptism.
No communion.
No confirmation.
No speaking in tongues.
No mission trip.
No volunteering.
No financial gifts.
No church clothes.
He couldn't even bend his knees to pray.
Nails through his wrists meant no folded hands.
No sinner's prayer crossed his lips.
No altar call for a dying criminal.
He was naked.
Bleeding.
Worthy of death under the law.
Jesus didn't remove his pain.
Didn't heal his broken body.
Didn't silence the crowd mocking them both.
Didn't bring him down from that cross.
The thief had no testimony to share.
No before-and-after transformation story.
No time to prove his faith was real.
No chance to clean up his life.
Just a dying breath used to say:
"Lord, remember me."
And Jesus blood running down His face
Turned to this worthless criminal and promised:
"Today shalt thou be with me in paradise."
No theologian's spin needed.
No brilliant sermon required.
No worship team or mood lighting.
No haze machines or hip pastor.
No coffee bar in the lobby.
No small group sign-ups.
Just a naked man dying on wood.
Unable to move.
Unable to serve.
Unable to give.
Unable to perform.
Unable to impress.
Unable to earn.
All he could do was believe.
Believe that the bloodied man next to him
Was who He claimed to be.
That was it.
That was everything.
He entered paradise the same hour as Christ.
Not because of what he did.
Because of who Jesus is.
This criminal understood in his final moments
What religious men spend lifetimes missing:
Salvation isn't in your performance.
It's in His promise.
"For God so loved the world,
that he gave his only begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish,
but have everlasting life."
A thief.
A cross.
A Savior.
A promise.
THAT IS ENOUGH.
A Harvard philosopher once told me Christianity was "intellectually bankrupt" because God becoming human was illogical.
I told him that's exactly the point.
The scandal of the Gospel isn't that it's too simple. It's that it's too offensive.
See, we've sanitized the incarnation.
Made it a Christmas card with a glowing baby in a manger. Turned it into children's songs and nativity plays. Domesticated the most radical claim in human history.
But here's what actually happened:
The infinite compressed Himself into a womb. The omnipotent became helpless. The omniscient learned to walk. The self-sufficient nursed at His mother's breast.
This isn't poetry. This is scandal.
Philippians 2:6-8 doesn't give us metaphor—it gives us the most shocking reversal in cosmic history:
"Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant..."
Let that sink in.
The One who spoke galaxies into existence couldn't speak for His first year of life.
The One who holds all things together (Colossians 1:17) had to be held.
The One who never slumbers nor sleeps (Psalm 121:4) got tired. So tired that He fell asleep in a boat during a storm.
I remember sitting with a Muslim friend who said, "This is why I can't accept your Jesus. Allah would never stoop so low."
Exactly.
That's the stumbling block Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 1:23.
To the religious mind, God dying is blasphemy. To the philosophical mind, God becoming weak is absurdity.
But here's what both miss:
Power that refuses to become vulnerable isn't power—it's insecurity.
Think about it.
Every dictator in history built walls around themselves. Every tyrant ruled from a distance. Every false god demanded approach through priests and rituals and sacrifices.
But the real God?
He got dirt under His fingernails. He had bad breath in the morning. He got splinters in the carpenter's shop. His feet hurt after walking dusty roads.
The Jews wanted a Messiah who would overthrow Rome with supernatural force.
Instead, they got a man who wept at His friend's grave.
The Greeks wanted wisdom—some philosophical principle that would unlock the universe.
Instead, they got a man who bled actual blood.
You know what's truly offensive?
It's not just that God became human. It's HOW human He became.
He didn't show up as a king or philosopher or general. He showed up as a bastard child (in the eyes of society) born to an unwed teenage mother in an occupied country.
He grew up in Nazareth—the ancient equivalent of a trailer park. "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" they asked.
He worked with His hands. Calloused. Rough. Blue-collar.
He hung out with tax collectors and prostitutes. He touched lepers. He let a "sinful woman" wash His feet with her tears.
The religious elite called Him a glutton and a drunk.
This is your God.
Not some distant deity demanding perfection from His throne. But God with us. Emmanuel. God WITH skin in the game.
Here's what modern Christianity gets wrong:
We try to make Jesus respectable. We dress Him up in stained glass. We give Him a British accent and flowing hair. We turn Him into a life coach with good moral teachings.
But the real Jesus?
He fashioned a whip and flipped tables. He called religious leaders "whitewashed tombs" and "sons of hell." He told people to eat His flesh and drink His blood—so offensive that crowds abandoned Him.
Yet this same Jesus—this confusing, controversial, confrontational Jesus—is the one who said:
"Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden..."
The hands that threw out money changers also touched the untouchable. The voice that condemned hypocrites also said "Neither do I condemn you." The One who commanded storms also wept with the grieving.
You want to know why God HAD to become human?
Because a God who won't bleed for you won't understand your bleeding.
A God who won't suffer can't enter your suffering. A God who won't die can't defeat your death.
Every other religion gives you a god who stays clean. Christianity gives you a God who gets dirty.
Every other religion says "climb up to god." Christianity says "God climbed down to you."
Every other religion offers philosophy. Christianity offers flesh and blood.
Here's the part that breaks people:
He was tempted in every way you are.
That means Jesus knows what it's like to want to punch someone in the face. He knows the pull of lust. He knows the temptation to take the easy way out. He knows the desire for revenge.
Hebrews 4:15 - "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin."
He felt everything you feel. But never gave in.
Not because He couldn't sin (that would make the temptation meaningless). But because He wouldn't.
The same divine nature that spoke creation into existence lived inside human flesh that could be cut, bruised, and killed.
The invisible God became visible. Not in glory but in humiliation. Not in power but in weakness. Not to be served but to serve.
And this—THIS—is what offends.
We want a God who looks like success. He chose to look like failure.
We want a God who conquers through strength. He conquered through surrender.
We want a God who makes sense. He chose to be foolishness to the wise.
The cross wasn't Plan B. It was always the plan.
From the moment Adam fell, the solution was already in motion: God would become what we are so we could become what He is.
He would take our poverty to give us His riches. He would take our sin to give us His righteousness. He would take our death to give us His life.
The Judge would stand trial. The Lawgiver would be condemned. The Author would enter His own story.
This is either the greatest truth or the greatest delusion in human history.
There's no middle ground.
C.S. Lewis was right: Jesus is either Lord, liar, or lunatic. You can't have Him as just a good teacher. Good teachers don't claim to be God.
So here's my question for you:
What's more offensive to you?
A God who stays distant and demands you earn His love? Or a God who gets close enough for you to spit on Him?
A God who remains mysterious and unknowable? Or a God who lets you drive nails through His hands?
A God who keeps His dignity? Or a God who strips naked and dies like a criminal?
Because that's your choice.
Every other option is off the table.
The God of the universe either became a baby who needed His diaper changed, or He didn't.
He either got hungry, tired, angry, and sad, or He didn't.
He either bled real blood and died a real death, or He didn't.
And if He did—if the eternal God really became temporal man—then everything changes.
Your suffering isn't beneath His notice because He's suffered. Your temptations aren't beyond His understanding because He's been tempted. Your death isn't outside His power because He's died.
The hands that hold the universe have nail scars. The feet that walked on water were pierced. The side that breathed life into Adam was speared.
This is the scandal of the Gospel:
Not that God sent a prophet. Not that God sent an angel. Not that God sent a book.
But that God sent HIMSELF.
And He didn't come in power but in weakness. Didn't come to be served but to serve. Didn't come to condemn but to save.
To the religious, it's a stumbling block—God shouldn't die. To the philosophical, it's foolishness—God shouldn't become weak.
But to those being saved?
It's the power of God hidden in plain sight. It's wisdom disguised as foolishness. It's strength perfected in weakness.
The God who didn't need us chose to need His mother's milk. The God who owns everything chose to have nowhere to lay His head. The God who is life itself chose to taste death.
Why?
Because love does what logic never would.
Love enters the mess. Love gets its hands dirty. Love bleeds.
And a God who is love?
He doesn't send a substitute. He comes Himself.
This is what separates Christianity from every other religion on the planet.
We don't have a God who points the way. We have a God who IS the way.
We don't have a God who teaches about life. We have a God who IS life.
We don't have a God who explains truth. We have a God who IS truth.
And He proved it by doing the one thing no mere human could do:
He rose from the dead.
Not symbolically. Not metaphorically. Not spiritually.
Physically.
The same body that was broken was raised. The same hands that were pierced reached out to Thomas. The same feet that were nailed walked with disciples to Emmaus.
Because if Jesus didn't actually, literally, physically rise from the dead, then Paul says we're the most pitiful people on earth (1 Corinthians 15:19).
But if He did rise?
Then death is defeated. Sin is conquered. Hell is harrowed. Satan is crushed.
And you—broken, bleeding, doubting you—have a God who gets it.
Who doesn't stand at a distance shouting instructions. But who entered the fight. Took the hits. Absorbed the punishment. And won.
Not through avoiding suffering but through embracing it. Not through escaping death but through defeating it. Not through staying clean but through taking our dirt upon Himself.
The fully God, fully man paradox isn't a theological puzzle to solve.
It's a love story written in blood.
And it's either the most beautiful truth or the most devastating lie ever told.
I've bet my life it's truth.
What about you?
If this hit you, share it. Someone needs to hear that God isn't too holy to handle their mess.
Drop a comment with your thoughts. Does the incarnation offend you or compel you?
Follow for more unfiltered truth about the scandal of the Gospel.
Because comfortable Christianity isn't Christianity at all.
This story is a very painful one which everyone should learn from.
Benedict has been living in Italy for several years but something happened in 2024 that turned his life upside down.
He was someone who God has really helped to be successful in Italy, with several properties & businesses both back home in Nigeria & in Italy.
He traveled to Nigeria in March 2024 like he used to, to his surprise he was asked to report to the police station upon his return.
The Police gave him a letter to leave the city he lives in, signed by a judge, without trial. He asked why, they told him that he had beaten up a woman & had been siphoning funds illegally from Italy to Nigeria. Both he never did & was shocked at these allegations levelled against him.
He immediately contacted a lawyer, then began a case.
He then discovered that some people in his prayer group had conspired to bring him down. They cooked up stories & reported to the police. These were whites who envied him at how he got so successful much more than they were. These were prominent men & women in the society.
The case dragged on for months, & then it got to a point that his lawyer told him the case isn't in his favour & he should be looking at 7 years imprisonment; however, he would help him fight it to reduce it to 5 years.
All through this period, his documents were seized - he couldn't work nor do his businesses.
God so good, he attends the Commanding The Day Midnight Prayers #CTDMP & on one of those nights before the day of the final judgement, God's servant declared that there was a court case God showed him & that there is a victory; he keyed into this prophetic word & trusting God for a total turn around.
Days later they arrived at the court, the judge pacing around, sat, stood up, looked at him multiple times without saying a word, & finally said "This man has done nothing wrong, Every charge levelled against him are all lies, I therefore discharge him & acquit him"
Till today, his lawyer & everyone are still asking him who spoke to the judge on his behalf, & what did he do. They all said this is unbelievable.
There is a God in heaven, who is the judge of the whole universe.
This Sunday, at our Covenant Day of Fruitfulness Service, as we gather with hearts full of gratitude to God, every dryness and delay will be brought to an end and testimonies will begin to spring forth in all aspects of your life.
Get ready for your harvest of testimonies!
Whether you're starting, building, or growing a business, career or profession, now is the time to step up!
This Sunday, come prepared for an encounter with the light of God’s Word, which will break every chain of stagnation and open new doors to success, and breakthroughs.