Over the centuries in art, music, literature and film, people have speculated about Mary Magdalene’s relationship with Jesus. The Bible makes it clear she was part of his inner circle. And, in spite of what the tradition has invented, there’s nothing in the Bible that says she’s a woman of ill-repute. The Bible does say she is a troubled person, and Jesus accepts her, values her company, and heals her of many demons. We can imagine how grateful she is to him. How much she loves him. They are close.
So just imagine how she’s feeling that morning. Confused. Exhausted. Heavy with grief. Bereft of this man she loved. She comes to anoint his body for burial, to touch him again (even in death), but he’s gone! Missing! And then, what was it like to hear him say her name. To see him. To so long to hold him. But to be told “No.” “Don’t touch”. Here’s poet Janet Morley’s take on this scene:
It was unfinished.
We stayed there, fixed, until the end,
women waiting for the body that we loved;
and then it was unfinished.
There was no time to cherish, cleanse, anoint;
no time to handle him with love,
no farewell.
Since then, my hands have waited,
aching to touch even his deadness,
smoothe oil into bruises that no longer hurt,
offer his silent flesh my finished act of love.
I came early, as the darkness lifted,
to find the grave ripped open and his body gone;
container of my grief smashed, looted,
leaving my hands still empty,
I turned on the man who came:
‘They have taken away my Lord—where is his corpse?
Where is the body that is mine to greet?
He is not gone
I am not ready yet, I am not finished—
I cannot let him go.
I am not whole.’
And then he spoke, no corpse,
and breathed,
and offered me my name.
My hands rushed to grasp him;
to hold and hug and grip his body close;
to give myself again, to cling to him,
and lose my self in love.
‘Don’t touch me now.’
I stopped, and waited, my rejected passion
hovering between us like some dying thing.
I Mary, stood and grieved, and then departed.
I have a gospel to proclaim.
(All Desires Known: Prayers Uniting Faith and Feminism, “They have taken away my lord,” p. 54.)
“I have a gospel to proclaim.” “I have a gospel to proclaim.” And so Mary, the first witness to the Risen Lord, is charged by him to go and tell the others. Mary Magdalene, this grieving, bewildered woman, who loved him so, realizes it’s not about clinging on to what was in the past. The joy of His earthly company. His teaching. His care. Now it’s about telling everyone…He Lives! God’s love is stronger than sin, violence, and death. This is Resurrection Power! Now it’s time for Mary to let the world know that the compassionate, healing love of God can and will overcome anything.
Mary had this Gospel to proclaim. And we have this Gospel to proclaim! It’s about the times in our lives when we have been at a place, not unlike Mary Magdalene’s, when all has seemed hopeless. Dark. Powerless. When we cannot do it ourselves anymore. When our trying gets us nowhere. When we cannot see a way forward. When we need our demons cast out. When we finally have to surrender—admit our powerlessness, our vulnerability—and collapse into the arms of the One who stretched his out in total powerlessness that we might come within the reach of his saving embrace.
Maybe this time of surrender in our lives has come as we’ve sat at the bedside of one we dearly love and had to let them die. Maybe it’s when we’ve had to let go of the dream of a child when it cannot be conceived or is not viable. Maybe it’s when the one we love is addicted to something, and we finally have to say that we cannot continue in that relationship, the one we’d vowed to stay in for life. Maybe it’s when the hopes and dreams we’ve had about our career have to be let go of in the face of reality. I know you can all add to this list.
These are the dark times. The helpless times. The times we need healing. And it is to save us from the hopelessness of these that Jesus, in the most powerless and vulnerable of all postures, stretches out his arms of love to us. And at that point, he doesn’t say, “Don’t touch me.” He says, “Come. Let me embrace you.” And so we discover New Life—the peace our loved one finds in death. A certain completeness about their life, and eventually peace for ourselves. We discover the great blessing and gift spending those last days with them was to us. We come to know deeply: Their life is changed, not ended. It’s Resurrection Power! Or we discover Jesus embraces us when we, who have no children, discover God has other ways of blessing us and giving us little ones to nurture and teach and love.
And when we have to leave a chaotic relationship, we discover God comforts our lives with deep peace and serenity and friends who become our family. We discover when we miss a rung on that steep career ladder and have to go down a few notches, God can be there as well (even in that!), restoring us, reordering our lives in ways that are more fulfilling. It’s Resurrection Power!
In all these, we, like Mary, have seen the Lord! These are our resurrection stories! And, having known those dark places, and admitted our powerlessness to the God who’s power is made perfect in weakness, then we, like Mary, are empowered not just to cling to him for comfort, but to spread the Word…The Good News of our stories! In these it’s become very clear to us personally that HE IS RISEN! We too have seen the Lord! It’s Resurrection Power in our very lives!
So we, like Mary Magdalene, on this glorious Easter morning, have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim…
So let’s do it…
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! Amen.
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