Mary from Magdala, if I strip away the false and unproven labels, prostitute, possessed, sister, lover, I find I know her better, see more of who she was. A woman who had maybe been searching all her life for love but her heart, even if not her body, had been preserved until the encounter with the source of all love. Her heart had been kept free to follow.
Was it her that lavishly poured the oil over his feet? I think so, a shocking disregard for the opinions of those around her, how many of us are brave enough to love like that? I think if I were there I would have shifted awkwardly, wished she would stop, but in the same breath be madly envious I didn’t have the same abandonment, freedom and courage to love Him as recklessly as that.
But Mary’s story really takes on full colour from the crucifixion. Standing beside the blessed mother, she watches and lives every moment of horror, when all but one of the men have disappeared. She teaches us that while her saviour was nailed to the cross by love, the same love nailed her feet to the ground in full view for those torturous hours.
Three days later, Mary is at the tomb, already in service to the body of Christ. Having sat at his feet, she is now called to her own. This is where I think she has a message for us today.
Mary is staring into a dark tomb, expecting to find the dead body of Christ. The death of who she thought he was and the darkness that comes with loss of hope. Whilst the men looked at a return to fishing, she stared into a darkness she thought that had long been left behind. Mary arrived at the tomb thinking all she could do was to drape his dead body with something sweet smelling, something to take away the stench of decaying promises….but He wasn’t there. When we are staring into darkness we cant imagine that miracles are possible. It’s only when we take a step towards the light of the doorway we begin to see, the impossible we didn’t dare to imagine has already happened.
It’s here the risen Christ calls her by name, the sound saturating her bruised heart as her perfumed oils had once done to his dry sandalled feet. Get up, He says, this is no longer the time to cling to my feet, take my hand, for now there is work to be done.
For all my friends who have or are living in that post crucifixion place, take heart, the doorway is just behind you, he is outside calling your name towards hope and healing and even the angels of heaven are pointing the way you must turn to find the light.
We don’t hear in the scriptures of what happened to Mary after Pentecost, there are various legends and ancient non canonical gospels, she is reputed to have gone to Ephesus with John and the Blessed Mother, there are tales she went to Rome to speak with Caesar, stories of her preaching to pagans, arriving in France during the persecutions all of which are possible. The one thing I am sure of though, is that the woman who once embraced Christ’s feet now embraced His heart firmly beating within her own.
