Mary of Magdala tells her story (imagined by Pam, my wife)

Mary of Magdala: Apostle to the Apostles: by Pam Thorn Yesterday, Easter Day, the daily eMailing during the Covid 19 crisis to our three parishes to the East of Cambridge included this reflection on Mary’s story which we know was much appreciated by several of our parishioners. I feel it deserves a wider audience. Pam writes Some of you may know that I have spent time during the past few years painting icons. I hasten to assure you, I am no artist, but with the help of teachers much more competent than I am, I now have a small collection of completed icons. My latest, and she gazes at me as I sit in my chair, is Mary Magdalene. When I am painting an icon, I have hours of contemplation of my work, and at times, of the subject of my work. Mary Magdalene has long held a special place in my heart, and as I have learned more of her, I have come to appreciate her more and more. So perhaps you would like to come with me, this Easter Day, and hear from Mary Magdalene herself, as I imagine what that very first Easter Day might have been like according to the Gospel of John: I had not slept since that dreadful night when after our Passover Meal, Jesus was arrested in the garden. Oh yes, I was there, at the meal, and in the garden, and throughout the terrible, terrible hours of torture and torment that Jesus endured, until, at last, his pain was ended. ‘It is finished’, he cried in anguish. That was one of the most amazing things about Jesus, that I and the other women still treasure. We were always included. He often told all his friends that men and women would be equal in His kingdom, so were equal as friends during those years of His teaching us all.  Of course, some of the men grumbled, especially the ones who were more strict in their religious understanding. Peter was sometimes extremely grumpy that we were there. So, on that morning, when the Sabbath was over, I was exhausted, but also so distraught that I just had to go and be near Him, be near His body, even if he was locked away in his tomb for ever.

I crept through the streets, before dawn, afraid to disturb anyone. The others were all terrified that we would be next, now that they had succeeded in killing Jesus, which is why the rest of the friends locked themselves away. I didn’t care, what more could they do to me, they had killed my Lord, my Master, my friend, my everything. Death would have been welcome. When I got to the garden, the sun was just beginning to rise, and huge shadows were cast by the rocks. I clung to the shadows, afraid that I might be turned away – I so needed to be near Him. When I reached the tomb, I could not work out what had happened. The huge stone, which had sealed the cave had been rolled to one side. That was extraordinary, it had taken a lot of men and some ropes to put it into place. I didn’t dare look in to start with, you can imagine how scary it all was. But, when I did, there was just nothing there, just the empty linen cloths! How could that be! I had seen Him wrapped up, and laid in there. I must admit, I panicked then! You all know the rest of that story. I ran all the way to find Peter and John, and they came running back. I followed more slowly, I was quite out of breath by then. And, then they were off again, to tell the others. What happened next remains in my mind and heart, and will until the day I die. From behind me, I heard a voice. I turned round, and I couldn’t see who it was standing there, my eyes were so full of tears. ‘Mary’, he said. Just like that. ‘Mary’, and I knew, I just knew He was there, with me. I tried to touch him,  but he moved backwards, out of my grasp. ‘Do not hold onto me’. Oh, he said some more, but I will forever hear him say just my name, just as he used to. Some people do not believe that I was the first person to see Jesus alive, after all that had happened. As if it could possibly have been a woman!  When gazing at my icon, here in my living room, I can almost hear those first words that Jesus said to her. No wonder Pope Francis declared that she is to be remembered as the Apostle to the Apostles! Happy Easter, however you are spending it!