Wheatland Lodge Mary Narrative

Let me tell you the story of a woman named Mary of Magdala - everyone called her Mary Magdalene because Mary was a very common name in Israel during her time. This story is also about Jesus of Nazareth, who you may have heard of. He was a travelling teacher, prophet, healer, miracle worker, and so much more. Mary was one of His followers for several years, and had high hopes that He was the promised Messiah, the one who would free Israel from Rome’s oppression… at least those were her hopes until the Friday during Passover.

Friday afternoon, she stood nearby, with several other women who followed Jesus and John the disciple, grieving as Jesus died a criminal’s death. Jesus’ final moments were burned into her mind and heart. On Friday evening, before Sabbath started, He was buried by Joseph of Arimathea and she and some of the other women went with them to see where they laid Him. There was such finality to the stone being rolled in front of the tomb - the grunting of the men as they moved it into position, the scraping of stone on stone, the silence that settled once the tomb was covered. Jesus was really and truly dead. They could never go back to the way it had been even just the day before, when Jesus taught them and loved them and cared for them and fired their hopes that He was the One. He couldn’t be the One. He was dead.

They managed to make it back into Jerusalem before Sabbath began, despite the sorrow that weighed them down, and then began a long day of waiting with no work before they could go to properly prepare Jesus’ body for burial. They spent it hiding in the upper room with the disciples, fearing that theyw ould be enxt to die… finally Sunday morning arrived and Sabbath was over - they could go and complete their last duty for the One who we had all believed was the promised Christ. Proper burial is very important for Jewish faith, you know, so it was vital that they get there to annoint the body properly as soon as possible. And then it would truly be over, this unique journey they had all been on. Mary was so different from who she had been that day Jesus set her free. She had grown so very much. And yet, as they set out towards the tomb, it seemed it had all been for naught. What had been the point of the growth if it had all been a misguided hope? Or worse, if Jesus had been a liar and they had bought into it… how could someone who seeped integrity and honesty out of every pore be simply yet another charlatan? Another false Messiah.

It was still dark outside as they headed down the winding paths leading out of Jerusalem and toward the tomb where their Lord’s body lay. Salome and Mary, the mother of Jesus, kept pace with Mary Magdalene, each carrying a different spice with which to anoint the body. It hurt her to think of Him like that, as a body, when He had been so alive in life. She had to fight to keep tears out of her eyes so she could see where she was going…They neared the garden in which the tomb was located, and so they had to start keeping an eye out for a gardener to help them move the stone, for the stone would be far too large for them to move it without help… and Mary also knew she had to brace herself for the smell of the body.

Salome [Sal-O-may] noticed the problem first and called out to the others - the stone had been moved. The tomb gaped open at them, like a mouth seeking to devour them even as it had swallowed Jesus. Mary Magdalene gasped, totally shocked and confused, and immediately spun to go and get Peter and John. Mary and Salome called after her, but she barely heard them in her panic, didn’t even notice when they hurried after her. Someone had moved the body of their Lord! She couldn’t understand what was going on, or why, but somehow, she made her way back to where the disciples were staying and she burst into the room where they were mourning.

For a moment, all she could get out was “Peter! John!” She was out of breath and in tears. It gave them enough time to rush over to her, exclaiming questions about what was wrong. Mary and Salome joined them at this point and were also trying to explain, it was quite chaotic for a moment but finally Mary Magdalene was able to explain: “They’ve taken away the Lord out of the tomb and we don’t know where they’ve taken Him!” She then watched as Peter and John exchanged urgent glances and bolted towards the tomb. What else could she do but follow them? They were fast, they had girded their tunics and ran without their knees encumbered by lengths of cloth, but she managed to stay not too far behind them. John outpaced even Peter, which was not all that surprising considering John was younger. Peter and Mary Magdalene rounded the corner to see John standing at the entrance of the tomb, stooped over and staring into it. Peter, never one to back down from something, rushed right into the tomb, so of course John followed.

They both left the tomb a moment or two later, but they had vastly different expressions. Peter looked entirely grief-stricken, as Mary had expected when she brought the news that Jesus’s body had been stolen. John though… she couldn’t understand the sudden lightness that he seemed to feel, he looked full of… hope? She wondered if the events of the past few days were starting to get to him. After they left, Mary stayed, so overcome with weeping and wailing in customary mourning fashion that she couldn’t have seen the step in front of her foot never mind the path back to the upper room.

Eventually, she was able to control herself enough to stoop over and peer into the tomb as John had done. She had been so panicked that she had yet to see for herself what was inside. She expected it to be empty… so to find it anything but made her let out a little shriek. There were two men in white clothes inside! Mary couldn’t fathom why there would be people inside the tomb, but in her grief-stricken state she didn’t question it much. They smiled at her, surprisingly gently, and one asked her “Woman, why are you weeping?” She started explaining that someone had taken away her Lord and she didn’t know where they had laid Him and the explaining left her entirely in tears again - why would someone have violated the body of their Lord? Surely it was the Pharisees and the teachers of the law! Before the men could respond, Mary turned and was about to leave the tomb, she was just so sad and angry - she didn’t know where to go, but I couldn’t stay here. She was stopped in her tracks by another man standing outside the entrance to the tomb. Thank Jehovah, this man must be the gardener, she thought. He spoke before she could and asked what the other men had - “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” She hurried over to stand by him and clasped her hands to her chest.

“Please, sir, if you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him and I will take Him away!” This was her last hope, that the gardener had relocated the body somewhere and it might yet be found and properly buried! Mary was hoping that he would see the tears in her eyes and on her face and have mercy on her but instead he said just one word.

“Mary!” In that word was contained all the love that she had ever received from the Lord Jesus as His follower, every moment of listening to His teaching in quiet wonder, every moment of watching Him heal and perform incredible miracles, all the way back to the moment He had delivered her of the seven evil spirits that had made her days a living hell, and it was as if the man in front of her transformed before her eyes until she could recognize Him for Who He was. Somehow, it was Jesus! Not as she had seen Him when they buried Him - so badly beaten and abused that He was unrecognizable - but whole and alive and somehow different than before! How could this be? And yet, it was! All she could choke out was “Rabboni!” (which means my dear Rabbi or teacher) before she fell at His feet and touched them, worshipping Him. Truly, He was so much more than they had ever thought - He was alive! Gently, He warned her,

“Don’t cling to Me, for I haven’t yet ascended to the Father. But go find my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

Momentary confusion settled in, she wasn’t sure what exactly He meant, but I think, having the benefit of history that she didn’t that this was referring to now having to relate to Jesus differently. We can’t relate to Him physically now in the way that we did before He died, and just a few months later, after He ascended she would see far more clearly that we cannot cling to Him physically… but He has sent the Holy Spirit to help us relate to Him now and to be with us and within us. This she did not understand then, but she took a last look at Him, drinking in the sight of Him - alive! - and then turned and ran to the disciples yet again. This time, rather than tears of sorrow and confusion, she exclaimed through tears of utter joy “I have seen the Lord!” and explained about the rest of her encounter with Him.

Now, as much as I’d love to end on that oh so happy note… what would you think if someone you knew came to tell you that they had seen a recently dead loved one and had a conversation with them? You’d think they were crazy with grief, right? Well, that’s what the disciples thought… and they continued to think that until He appeared to them right there in the upper room and even ate some food - and later when He appeared again to prove to Thomas that He was alive, and when they heard about His encounter with the two disciples heading to Emmaus. Over the next 40 days Jesus appeared to many people, and taught and encouraged and proved the amazing thing that Jehovah had done! And then He returned to the Father, ascending into the clouds until He was out of sight and angels had to encourage them that He would return in the same way. Then they waited and prayed in Jerusalem for 10 days until the Festival of Pentecost and the outpouring of the promised Holy Spirit who gave them boldness! Suddenly, they couldn’t stop telling people the news! Jesus is alive, He has risen, He has conquered death and sin and the grave and - oh, praise Jehovah, He is alive!

May we ever remember the Friday on which our Lord gave Himself for us.… but let us live in light of the Sunday - the resurrection, the defeat of sin and death and grave. Let us rejoice, our God is not dead, He is risen. May you be blessed as you head into what our Lord has for you. Jesus is Alive!