Mary Magdalene met Jesus while possessed by seven demons. He healed her, and in return she joined him. She followed him and became one of his most mentioned followers, outside the twelve men named apostles.
She was one of the few who stuck with him to the bitter end, there at the cross after the men fled. She was also the first to whom Jesus appeared after he’d risen. She has gone to the tomb, is crying outside and sees two angels where his body was. Of course she’s distraught over the execution of the man who healed her, and now she doesn’t even know where someone has taken his body. We hear that Jesus comes behind her, and asks her why she’s crying. She doesn’t recognize him, but instead assumes he’s the gardener.
To me, this says he didn’t look like he’d looked before death. While she was in shock and grief, she wouldn’t have entirely missed his presence, albeit dead and resurrected, if he looked like the Jesus she knew. At that moment, she didn’t know him.
Jesus does one simple thing, and everything changes. He calls her by name.
With that simple, personal recognition, the scales fell from her eyes, and everything was different. He was dead and buried. And now is not.
I have always had a special affinity towards Mary Magdalene. This icon of Mary Magdalene from Trinity Stores speaks to me (I really like Trinity Store icons, and have several.) The language and her image are designed to remind us that she was middle eastern. If the pose looks familiar, it’s modeled after the famous National Geographic haunting photo of the Afghan girl with the bright green eyes. She’s holding an egg, because based on ancient stories, she was asked by a leader if she really saw the risen Jesus. She said that it was true, and to prove it, the egg would turn red. That’s the source of the red Easter eggs in Orthodox Easter breads.
I’m not sure what Mary looked like with seven demons. I don’t know what the modern day equivalent of that would look like. But I live with someone now, who talks about the voices in their head. About what they’re supposed to do and say. How the voices make it incredibly difficult to hold a normal conversation, because there’s so much negative chatter. To be clear, there is a lot of controversy about dismissing mental illness as ‘demons’, and I am not doing that. But I do believe it’s possible Mary’s affliction, and the affliction of my loved one is more similar than unlike.
To be cured from that kind of affliction would create indescribable joy, deep gratitude, and loyalty to the tomb. At the tomb, she feels she’s lost everything that’s made her whole. To be reminded that it’s not lost, Jesus calls her name, and all of a sudden, he’s back, has beaten death, and returns first to Mary.
This morning, I’m thinking about the power of the name. In the midst of the illness in my house, have I invoked Jesus’ name to heal them, or to heal me? What would it be like to hear Jesus call my name? Would I recognize it? I don’t believe this is a theoretical possibility. I genuinely believe Jesus calls my name all the time, to ask me to follow, and believe, and heal, and serve, and love. Often, I’m distracted and think he’s the gardener.
Today, I want to be on the lookout for Jesus calling my name. I’ve got work to do with my loved one, and I definitely need Jesus’ presence.
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