Mary of Magdala

A presentation to Conference of Catholic Women, Ascension Church, Boca Raton, FL on April 17, 2023

Close your eyes, detach yourself from the world around you. Sit back, get comfortable, and drift back in time with me, back over 2,000 years to the dawn of Christianity. We are in Jerusalem. News has come that Jesus’ friend Lazarus, dead four days, was brought back to life by Jesus. Now Jesus is on the road from Bethany to Jerusalem. The crowd is excited. This is a miracle beyond miracles, and we and they anxiously await Jesus.

Some of the news my sisters and I have heard from Bethany is confusing. Before bringing Lazarus back to life, Jesus said to Martha “I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believes in me, though dead, yet shall live: And whosoever lives and believes in me shall never die."

Well, a lot that Jesus says doesn’t make sense to me, but this – this is really hard. But before I can really think about it, the crowd starts forming a procession. Jesus will be here in moments! People pull palm fronds off nearby trees, and everyone joyfully greets Jesus as he enters Jerusalem, singing his praises.

We run into a good friend of ours, Mary of Magdala, who has been a follower of Jesus for a while now. She stops to chat, and we invite her to spend the week with us while Jesus and his followers stay in Jerusalem, She’s happy to accept our invitation. It’s time for the celebration of the Passover, and Jerusalem is crowded with visitors There ar-not enough rooms to spare. More people will be sleeping outdoors than in this week, and we are glad to offer Mary a space in our home.

Of course, we, Mary and so many other people spend as much time as possible listening to Jesus. We’re taken aback when he runs the money changers out of the Temple. Even though we’ve all complained of the marketplace atmosphere their presence brings, his passionate anger at their defiling the temple space is the first time we’ve seen him so fierce!

Passover preparations go on, and Jesus receives many invitations. But he has decided to have a private seder, at least the first night, just him and his twelve closest followers.

But it’s after that Seder that things fall apart, and fall apart quickly.

Was it really only Sunday that we joyfully welcomed him into Jerusalem? Because here it is, Friday, and we wake up to find that he’s been arrested. And it’s not the Romans who sought his arrest, but the priests and the Sanhedrin.

Mary of Magdala is distraught. She comes back to our house that day with Jesus’ mother. Mary is, of course, even more upset but she has a certain calmness about her. We start called Mary of Magdala by her full name, Mary Magdalene, to differentiate between the two Marys, and we join them in the crowd surrounding Pilate’s house.

Jesus is brought out onto the balcony. Have you ever been standing with a woman when her son, her only child, is suddenly brought out in front of her, beaten, bloody, scorned, humiliated? I’m surprised Mary doesn’t faint. But she seems to have a steely resolve, like she’s going to bear this and not falter. She and Mary Magdalene, and a few other women, cling to one another. I feel for them. I’ve been following Jesus, but not as closely as they have; I haven’t been travelling with him; I just see him when he comes to Jerusalem.

The day passes. Time seems to both speed up and not move. Jesus is convicted, of what, I’m not sure. The crowd was infiltrated by those who would kill him, and the cries of “crucify him” easily drowned out the words of reconciliation so many of us called out. The crowd even called for the release of that violent insurrectionist Barrabbas rather than Jesus! The mob frightens me, and I want to move away, but they press in on every side.

Time passes. Jesus is lead out, sentenced to crucifixion, forced to carry his cross, just like the worst criminals. We trail behind. When we get to the place where criminals are left to die, the horror becomes even worse. I will never forget the sounds of hammer on wood; hammer on flesh, nails piercing the hands and feet of Jesus. I’ve seen plenty of animals slaughtered, but this, this is far, far worse. Other condemned men scream and moan, but Jesus remains silent. He is obviously in great pain – how could he not be? – but bears it, bears it as if it were his responsibility to take all the hurt and pain of the world on himself.

Hours pass by. Soldiers order us off. My sisters and I leave, but Mary Magdalene, Mary, John and a few others defy them to stay.

After many hours, John, Mary Magdalene and Mary come back to our house. Mary is silent and remains in prayer, while John looks after her solicitously. Mary Magdalene tells us of what happened after we left, of how the soldiers cut open Jesus’ side to have blood and water rush out. She tells us that the earthquake we all felt happened immediately upon Jesus’ death. We tell her that they are saying the sanctuary veil in the temple split right in two at that same time. We all know the sun disappeared, not the way it does in an eclipse, but all at once, as if the light went out of the world.

We pass a fitful night, the horrors of the crucifixion stalking our dreams. The next day, the Sabbath day, passes quietly. We are all too numb to do much but sit and pray.

The next morning, Mary Magdalene left the house early, long before anyone else was awake. When she came back, she was no longer crying. She seemed even happy! We were shocked, and then she told us all that she had seen an empty tomb; that Jesus was risen!

It was not Peter nor any of the other apostles who return to the tomb in the early hours, before dawn; it is Mary. It is not Peter or the other disciple who stay at the empty tomb; they simply returned home. But Mary returned to the tomb, weeping. Pope St. Gregory the Great said, “Burning with the fire of love, she longed for Him who she thought had been taken away.” (Homily 23 on the Gospels).

She alone stayed behind, and so she alone saw Him that very morning. To her is given the great gift of being the first to know that the Lord has risen.

It’s impossible for us to understand how Mary of Magdala would have felt. We sit here, over two thousand years later, steeped in the knowledge of the life, death and resurrection of the Lord. Mary, like the apostles and other disciples, believed Jesus was Lord, but, not having experienced the resurrection, could not have even imagined it. Sure, Jesus had raised others from the dead. It’s only been a few weeks since He raised Lazarus, four days after he had died. But Jesus was dead. Who then would have the power to raise Him?

For what Mary and the apostles did not yet know was that Jesus, being fully human and fully divine, died not as we would. One translation of St. Thomas Aquinas’ Adoro te Devote states, “Jesus died upon the cross, only man could die. Here upon the altar, God and man both lie.” Jesus’ death was not the end of his earthly life, nor was it the beginning of his divine life. “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.” (Hebrews 3:8) He is always with us. We never need to feel, as Mary did, that he had been taken away from us.

When we feel far from Him, it is never He who has moved, but us. At those times, we may weep as Mary had. But He is as close to us as He had been to her. All she had to do was turn around, and find Him standing behind her.