the other Mary…’

April 17, 2022

Scriptures: Based upon John 20:1-18

I would like to share the gospel reading for today from the perspective of the person who John tells us was the first to see our risen Lord Jesus on Easter morning. And I will share that story in the form of an imaginary letter from Mary Magdalene to her mother…

Dearest Mother,

I cannot begin to tell you what an amazing week I have had…in fact I am not sure even where to start. I have experienced some of the darkest days of my life…and some of the brightest, most hope-filled moments all in the same week!  And now I do not even know where to turn, for so much has happened, so much has changed.  But I am getting way ahead of myself, so let me start at the beginning.

I am not sure you heard that Jesus, my dearest friend and teacher, was betrayed by one of those closest to him last Thursday night.  Judas, who I can only guess had become disillusioned about who Jesus really was, decided to go to the Authorities and offer to reveal Jesus’ whereabouts to them. I heard they paid him a small sum to do so, and he told them to meet him late on Thursday night after the Passover meal, and he would lead them to Jesus.

When they showed up late that night the rest of us were all together in the Garden of Gethsemane.  Jesus had been praying deeply and off by himself for several hours, almost as if he knew what was coming.  And then, it all happened so suddenly…the Roman guards who were with the Authorities arrested Jesus, and after a brief confrontation with Peter and a couple of the others, took him away to the high Priest’s house.  All of us scattered at that point for fear they might come looking for the rest of us. For you see Jesus had really upset a lot of people since arriving in Jerusalem last week, and there was no telling the extent of the anger of the High Priest Caiaphas.

Now I don’t know if it was my imagination, or if in fact it was darker than usual that night, but that long night was one of the darkest I have ever seen.  Jesus was hustled off to the High Priest’s house and questioned long into the night. Peter managed to sneak into the outer courtyard and to hear some of what was going on there.  He was standing there outside with some others in the courtyard and barely escaped when several people there accused him of being one of Jesus’ followers.  Fortunately he was able to sneak away and make it safely back home.

And then, after what I’m sure was a mock trial the next morning, the Authorities took Jesus over to Pontius Pilate to try and convince him to condemn him, for we Jews are not allowed to condemn anyone to death.  After a long exchange, Pilate washed his hands of the matter and reluctantly agreed to let Jesus be put to death, letting a criminal named Barabbas go free in exchange.

The talk on the streets was that Pilate’s soldiers tortured and ridiculed Jesus before leading him out in a mock procession up to Golgotha where they crucified him early Friday afternoon. They even forced him to wear a crown made of thorns on his head, cutting him deeply and causing blood to flow freely. 

I’m sorry Mother if I seem a bit scattered here, but it was all so unbelievable to me.  We had been following after and learning from Jesus for so long, and we had seen so much that made us certain that he was the Promised One who would deliver all of Israel. It just didn’t make any sense to me to see him tied up and led away like a common criminal. I kept waiting for him to be set free, for him to work yet another miracle, even if it was only opening the eyes of those who were accusing him and helping them to understand who it was they were treating like a dog to be whipped.

My Jesus died on that cross late on Friday afternoon, The whole countryside grew quiet as the sky turned dark and ominous.  Joseph of Arimathea, one of the men who had followed Jesus secretly from a distance, went to the authorities and asked them to take Jesus down from the cross and to give him his body so he could place him temporarily in an empty grave that belonged to his family.  As it was close to sundown by that time and we needed to prepare for the Sabbath, we hastily wrapped his body and placed it in the tomb.  To prevent anything from happening during the Sabbath, a large stone was rolled across the entrance sealing it off.  After that, we sadly returned home for the evening, and the next day we observed the Sabbath rest, staying in all day.  Somehow it was easier to stay out of sight and to grieve alone and in private.

I must tell you Mother, I was so lost.  I don’t know if you realize how much I had come to love this strange man from Galilee…for he spoke with such authority and loved everyone with such deep compassion.  Every one of us felt as if he knew us personally, as if he knew each one of our stories and accepted us as we were, no matter what.  He was so different from other men in the way he treated us women.  He seemed to value each one of us as equal partners in sharing his teachings and in carrying forth his message.  In a strange sort of way he seemed to reject so much of what our culture held to be the proper and acceptable way to treat women. As though women were solely the property of another, as though they were somehow less important than men, as though their words and thoughts were not allowed to be a part of public discourse, to say nothing of being a part of a mission such as his.

He had done so many amazing things, and helped and healed so many that we were all sure that the long-awaited time of God’s promise of deliverance had finally come to pass.  But the sudden and violent loss of his constant love and companionship was just so overwhelming that all of us who were close to him were in a state of shock all throughout the day on Saturday. We tried to act normally so as not to stand out, yet we were hurting so deeply within. I felt as if everything I knew, believed, and loved had been turned upside down…that is until this morning.

This morning, some of the other women who have been a part of our group with Jesus agreed to meet before dawn to go and finish preparing Jesus’ body properly for burial.  In our haste on Friday we were only able to wrap him in grave cloths, but not to anoint his body as is our custom. We met as agreed but suddenly remembered the huge stone  the Romans had placed across the grave entrance.  Not sure of what we were going to do about it we set off anyway going out of the city, down through the valley, and on up to the site of the hillside grave.

As we approached the grave, we were shocked to see that someone else had already removed the stone from in front.  The entrance to the was open and we were afraid someone might have taken his body and ransacked the grave.  Fear caught us all in its icy grip and we turned and ran back towards the city.  I am not sure if it was the fear or the cool morning air that gave us the strength to run so fast, but in short order we arrived at the house where the disciples were staying and began to pound furiously on the door.  One of the men opened the door and we told them that the tomb had been opened by someone and that we were sure someone had stolen Jesus’ body.  In a flash Peter and one of the others ran past us and headed up towards the gravesite.  I followed as quickly as I could by myself, however it took me longer as I was tired.

When I got back to the grave the other two were just coming out. They seemed unsure of what had happened, although they did say that Jesus’ body was indeed missing.  Peter noticed the fact that the grave cloths we had used to wrap Jesus’ body were still there and that the head wrapping was off on its own and rolled neatly.  This seemed to indicate that in fact the body was not stolen, as robbers would not have taken the time to unwrap the body nor to roll up the head cloth by itself.  There was a growing sense of mystery about it all, although the other disciple said that he had ‘seen enough to believe’.  I am not sure why he said that, but as I stood there listening, the two of them headed back down to the house to report their findings to the others. 

Left there all alone, I began to weep deeply and bitterly, mourning the loss of my close friend, and worse, not even able to prepare his body properly, it was just too much. I was so sure someone had taken Jesus’ body but I just couldn’t figure out why. Why would anyone remove a body from a tomb?  And why go to the trouble of rolling back that huge stone in order to pillage the grave of a man who had no earthly belongings to speak of?

Moving closer to the tomb I noticed a strange light, almost a glow coming from the entrance.  Overcome with curiosity I moved closer and took a step inside the entrance of the tomb. In the dim light I was shocked to see two men sitting there right where Jesus’ body had been placed, one at his head and one at his feet.  And that strange glow seemed to be emanating from them, softly filling the tiny room.  I did not know who they were but had the strange sense I was seeing something very few have seen, for they looked for all the world like angels.  Looking intently at me one of them asked, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’   I quickly tried to wipe my eyes but my sadness was too great.  Blinking back tears I managed to whisper in reply, ‘Someone has taken away my Lord Jesus, and I don’t know where they have laid him.’

A shadow crossed the entrance to the grave and I quickly spun around in fear.  Another man was standing there but I couldn’t see clearly who he was.  He spoke to me asking, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?  For whom are you looking?’  I thought that perhaps he was the gardener for the area, and maybe it was he who had moved Jesus’ body.  I replied, ‘Sir, if you have taken him away, please tell me where you have laid him and I will take him away.’  As I spoke I turned back towards the interior of the tomb as if hoping to find the scene different than before.  The man outside spoke again, however this time there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. ‘Mary!’, he said.

In wild joy and with intense relief I recognized the voice of my Lord. He was standing right there in front of me! I called out to him by name, ‘Teacher’, and then moved over closer to him in an attempt to embrace him but he stopped me saying, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go quickly to my brothers and say to them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’

Oh, Mother, I cannot tell you how my heart was absolutely overflowing with joy! For here before me was my Lord, my dearest friend and teacher. The one we were so sure was the Savior, was standing there calling me by name! He had risen from the dead and he was alive, I saw him myself!  And he told me that his Father and his God was my father and my God, and that he was going to ascend to heaven and be with him.

Suddenly it all started to make sense, all the things he had tried to share with us. Then following his instructions I looked at him lovingly once more, and then turned back and once again ran back down the hill. I just had to get back to the others, I had to tell them what I had seen and heard. I ran so fast it felt as if my feet barely touched the ground. Finally reaching the closed and locked door of the house I knocked loudly once again.  After a minute the door opened and I told them excitedly, ‘I have seen the Lord!’  Then I shared very carefully what I had seen and heard, from the vision of the two angels to the unmistakable voice that had called out my name, along with all that he had asked me to tell them.

After sharing all that had happened, we tried to make sense of all Jesus had said.  Many of the men were still quite afraid of the Authorities and insisted on keeping the door to the house locked.  I however, wanted to run through the streets shouting out the message that Jesus had risen from the grave, and that he had gone on to heaven to be with God our Father, gone to heaven in order to show us the way to the Father, given us a lasting and a sure hope to hold on to, turning the darkest day of our lives into a brilliant sunshine of hope and promise.

        Mother, I cannot tell you where all this will lead, for I know there are still many who are opposed to Jesus and to all he stands for. And I am sure they will stop at nothing to hide the truth of who Jesus was. But I have seen the Lord! I have seen him with my own eyes, and I have heard our Lord Jesus with my own ears! I simply must tell the story to all who will listen that  Jesus, our now Risen Lord, has defeated death and gone on to be with God in heaven, opening up for all of us a doorway and a path to follow in joyful anticipation.

        The men around me are still quite fearful. Hopefully they will get over it so we can start the work of sharing the story of Jesus.  Keep me in your prayers Mother as I will keep you close in my heart.  I do not know when I shall next see you, but I am sure that our God will keep you safe until then.  I love you and miss you, but I must be about my Lord’s business. I shall write again soon,

Much love, your devoted daughter,

Mary Magdalene

When you are called by name…when Jesus calls you out of the busyness and clamor of your present circumstances…when Jesus comes looking for you, finds you where you are, and calls you by name, then that call is for you. 

When Jesus calls your name…it is because he has work for you to do. For his call is a call to action, a call to spend yourself fully, to spend yourself unto emptiness and exhaustion by sharing the Good News that Jesus was and remains the incarnation of our Lord of love.

Jesus calls us to live love out in the open, to love in such a way that all will know there is something different about the way we live our life, giving beyond the point of our ‘extra’ and on into the very fiber of our substance, giving beyond our ability to do so.

A call from Jesus is a call to life…a call to fully engaged, vibrant life, to life worth the living. So, when life seems out of control, when it all is so overwhelming, when there are just too many questions and too many options, then stop, take a moment, and listen carefully. For Jesus is calling your name, calling you personally. Calling on you to share the same message Mary was asked to share, the truth that Jesus’ work among us here on earth was now complete, and now we are the ones called to finish that work as we daily live out the faith we share…

…so, listen when he calls, then join in spreading new hope, overflowing joy, and the sweetness of God’s peace…Happy Easter!

…amen