Mary.
He called her by name
– and she knew the voice, the friend who had
spoken.
It wasn’t just that he knew her name
– it was that he knew her.
From grief
to utter confusion to tenderness.
From being alone
to being known, called, remembered.
Mary Magdalene showed up.
A woman whom, we are told, Jesus had freed from 7
demons.
And she expressed her thanks
by showing up again, and again.
Mary knew the agony of grief.
No doubt she knew about the betrayal
the denial
the running away.
She showed up in the hardest parts of the story;
She was there at the foot of the cross with Jesus’
mother.
She was there when they placed his body in the
cave
She was there when they rolled the stone in front
of it.
Mary knew about violence and pain and grief and
loneliness.
Whatever her demons had been, this was real too.
Friday, we too stood at this cross
as we placed sprigs of lavender and rosemary
in prayer for others.
Some came with tears, and others in hope
or in despair or desperation or a quiet
stillness.
To follow Jesus is to stand at the cross,
In the midst of evil and suffering.
To be present to it.
To weep for ourselves and for others.
For mothers murdered in front of their children
in our own city
For children stabbed by their fathers in places
where we holiday
For families ripped apart by war
… and then ripped apart again as they seek refuge
among us.
To weep for and stand with people who need to be
freed from whatever demons or addictions or illness may hold them.
That’s Mary’s discipleship.
Because that’s where God shows up.
And then, like Mary, to show up
the next day
and the next.
Maybe not sure why …
except just to be present, to pray.
Mary showed up at the tomb,
expecting that this violence,
this tragedy
would continue.
It was after the Sabbath
when she sees the empty cave.
Someone has taken His body …
More grief, more agony, more tears.
She still runs back to Peter;
‘They have taken him, and we don’t know…’
There is a hurry to get to the tomb …
minds and hearts racing.
One looks … maybe afraid to go in.
Peter goes straight inside.
Seeing only the linen wrappings lying there
they walk home.
The hurry is over.
Mary shows up, again.
Back to the tomb. Again.
Maybe not sure why.
But that is Mary’s discipleship.
And then ...
"Mary"
Her name on his breath.
Spoken in a way that only he could.
With all the knowing
and all the tenderness
and all the care of the one who knew
all about her demons …
and knew her free of them.
Three have seen the empty tomb …
One stops for longer
to be named,
to be called,
to be known.
We also have inklings, glimpses,
things that take our breath away.
Moments when resurrection says, “a new thing is
happening.”
hours where we know we believe more than anything
else
that
Christ is risen.
And that, like Mary we can turn up.
And in those glimpses, those inklings,
our name is on his resurrected breath
inviting us to belong
inviting us to participate.
Here
Now
with his name on our breath.
And when we, like Mary Magdalene show up in the
place of pain
and violence
and evil
and suffering,
We also stand in the place of …resurrection.
And with his name on our breath
We say
“death is not the last word.
Violence is not the last word.
Hate is not the last word.
Money is not the last word.
Intimidation is not the last word.
Political power is not the last word.
Condemnation is not the last word.
Betrayal and failure are not the last word.
No: each of them are left like rags in a tomb,
And from that tomb,
Arises Christ,
Alive.” *
Christ is risen.
He is risen.
Indeed!
++++++++++++++++++++++
