About 26 minutes
The Cause and Cure of the Cattle Plague: A Plain Sermon — Reading Notes
Theology
5,815 recorded words. 1 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #64734The catalog record for "He was buried." A Sermon for Easter Even — Text and Context provides practical reading context through 6,181 words, 27 min estimated reading time, and 1 detected text section.
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About 26 minutes
Theology
5,815 recorded words. 1 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #64734About 31 minutes
Theology
7,089 recorded words. 4 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
View Gutenberg source #25486About 34 minutes
Theology
7,809 recorded words. 7 minutes difference from this book's estimate.
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Read on Project GutenbergThomas Macgill's 1849 sermon for Easter Even takes as its text a single phrase from 1 Corinthians 15:4: 'He was buried.' Rather than moving quickly to the resurrection, Macgill dwells on the burial itself, treating it as a distinct and meaningful event. He opens with a series of rhetorical questions about funerals—'Who has not witnessed a funeral!'—and contrasts the 'gloomy pomp' of human obsequies with the stark, nearly friendless burial of Christ. The mourners are few: Joseph and Nicodemus, both described as 'men of considerable distinction' yet previously timid in their discipleship, and a handful of women. Macgill uses this contrast to frame the burial as both a historical moment and a theological mirror for the reader's own mortality.
Macgill's sermon is built on a series of contrasts that sharpen its devotional point. He juxtaposes the 'splendid train of mourners' for the wealthy with the 'little band' that buries Jesus; the 'parade in which corruption sits in mockery' with the quiet dignity of Joseph and Nicodemus. These contrasts are not merely descriptive—they serve to highlight the inversion of worldly values. The Prince of Life receives a funeral that the world would consider ignoble, yet Macgill insists it is 'mysterious' and significant. The reader is drawn into this rhetorical pattern early, as Macgill asks a string of 'Who has not...' questions that assume shared experience, then pivots to the unique case of Christ. This technique makes the sermon feel both universal and pointedly specific.
Macgill gives particular attention to Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, whom he calls 'men of considerable distinction in Judea, rich and honourable.' He notes that both had previously been secret disciples—Nicodemus had visited Jesus 'under the cover of night'—but that Christ's death emboldened them. The sermon suggests that their public act of burial was a turning point: 'His death, the event...' (the excerpt cuts off, but the implication is clear). Macgill uses their example to address readers who may be hesitant in their faith, asking whether they too have 'submitted to the righteousness of God' or remain 'dead in trespasses and sins.' The burial becomes a call to decision, not merely a historical fact.
Despite the somber subject, Macgill's sermon moves toward consolation. He addresses those grieving 'departed friends' with the assurance that 'Christ hath laid them in his own resting-place' and that believers will be reunited. The language becomes almost lyrical: 'we shall together walk along the golden streets of the holy city, and sit down together by the fountains of joy.' This vision of resurrection hope is grounded in the burial—because Christ was buried, the grave is transformed. Macgill quotes 1 Thessalonians 4:13 ('not be ignorant concerning them that are asleep') and emphasizes that death is not the end. The sermon thus balances its earlier solemnity with a forward-looking, pastoral comfort.
Macgill's sermon is explicitly tied to Easter Even (Holy Saturday), the day between crucifixion and resurrection. This liturgical placement shapes its content: it does not celebrate the resurrection but meditates on the burial as a discrete event. The closing prayer, drawn from the Book of Common Prayer, asks that 'as we are baptized into the death of thy blessed Son... we may be buried with Him; and that through the grave, and gate of death, we may pass to our joyful resurrection.' The sermon thus functions as a bridge between Good Friday and Easter, inviting the congregation to sit with the reality of death before rushing to the triumph of Easter morning. This temporal specificity gives the sermon a unique devotional focus.
Readers approaching this sermon should note its careful structure: it begins with universal human experience, narrows to the specific biblical account, then widens again to application and hope. Macgill's prose is formal but not obscure, and his use of rhetorical questions creates a sense of direct address. The sermon is brief—around 6,000 words—and rewards attention to its scriptural allusions and contrasts. For those interested in Victorian homiletics or Holy Saturday liturgy, this text offers a focused example of how one preacher handled a single verse.
Macgill’s quiet meditation on the burial—that strange, restful pause between grief and hope—reminds me of an older neighbour on my shelf, its gentle pages pondering those who die in the Lord. Both sit comfortably with silence, finding in death’s hush a patient expectancy. I often shelve them together, The Character and Happiness of Them That Die in the Lord A sermon, preached Oct. 13, 1822, in Park Chapel, Chelsea, on occasion of the death of the late Rev. John Owen — Background and Themes tucked beside it, two old friends nodding over the same long truth.
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