EASTERTIDE WITH ST. MARY MAGDALENE
The perfect poem came my way by grace the day after Easter. It was posted on the Gratefulness Network’s website and comes to us through author, Bernadette Miller, of NYC.What would you do if you really knew
that life was wanting to sing through you?
What would you say if your words could convey
prayers that the world was waiting to pray?
What would you be if your being could free
some piece of the world’s un-whispered beauty?
What would you stop to bless and caress
if you believed that blessing could address
our painful illusions of brokenness?
What would you harvest from heartache and pain
if you understood loss as a way to regain
the never-forsaken terrain of belonging?
What would you love if your love could ignite
a sea full of stars on the darkest night?
Ms. Miller’s poem expresses what I sense St. Mary Magdalene shared with those who trusted her to be an authentic disciple of Jesus the Fully Human One. Not everyone did, you know, and their distrust has defiled and denied her witness since about 350 of the Common Era. Still, Magdalene’s unswerving solidarity to Jesus, her contemplative commitment to seeing with the eye of the heart and trusting that love is greater than death, reveal to us a Christianity that is mystical, joyful, and gracious - a sacramental way of loving God, neighbor, and self that is conscious, transformative, and passionately grounded in real life.
No wonder the Reverend Dr. Cynthia Bourgeault calls Magdalene: the apostle for OUR age. She not only anointed Jesus into his new ministry of inclusive and radical contemplation, but lived a solidarity of loving presence when everyone else fled. Her witness during Christ’s passion, torture, death on a Cross, and entombment was not just an act of grief, it was a testimony to a love greater than death: she believed in her soul that Jesus would rise again in a new way – and when he did, she was there to anoint him again. Bourgeault boldly insists that St. Mary Magdalene, the long vilified but rarely understood apostle to the apostles, is crucial for our era because, as she puts it in her thoroughly researched book, The Meaning of Mary Magdalene: Discovering the Woman at the Heart of Christianity:
Mary Magdalene is an apostolic partner of Jesus, one who ministered in a tradition that was not just about male/female equality. Certainly, it was about that, and Jesus was way out in front of the pack; equality was the starting point for everything else. But Mary and Jesus took it a step further, including and transcending the opposites and birthing a new way of being where we can live, minister, and see (the world) out of a new and nondual consciousness. Mary can help us recover Jesus’ teaching and live into a unity that IS at the heart of the kingdom of heaven here on earth. Applying the teachings that Jesus showed her, [Mary] did her inner work and emerged through the eye of the needle (to embody the non-anxious presence of love in an era of fear.) If Jesus shows us what the completed human being looks like in male form, she models it for us in its female version; together they become the Christosophia, the androgynous archetype of human wholeness. And because her human heart and lover’s passion are so central to this trans-formation, she teaches us that we need not be afraid of these things in our own spiritual striving; the path to the fullness of being lies through human intimacy, not away from it. She binds the icon of the human heart to the angel of Holy Sophia.
The liturgical season of Eastertide takes place for the 50 days between Easter and Pentecost. At its best this is a season to listen to what the Resurrected Christ wants us to know about his NEW commandment – to love one another as he has loved us – and what better guide than the apostle to the apostles? Drawing upon the scholarship and wisdom of Dr. Bourgeault, Fr. Richard Rohr, Dr. Karen King of Harvard University and others who are creative Christianity’s most trusted contemporary interpreters of St. Mary Magdalene’s life, we can nourish a spirituality that feeds our soul as we practice living simply, peacefully, compassionately, and non-anxiously in our era of uncertainty and fear. Her insights into the way of Jesus substitute tenderness for theological conformity, loving presence and solidarity rather than institutional loyalty, the cross as Christ’s commitment to conscious love rather than sacrificial payment and atonement for sin, and a living trust in God’s grace that can lead us “through our personal terrors and fears including our fear of death” with an open heart.
Unlike the other disciples – male or female – Magdalene GOT it before Jesus died. That’s a key reason why she was there on the other side of his death waiting. In Bourgeault’s analysis, Mary had learned from Jesus “something far deeper than merely resuscitating a corpse. Jesus’ real purpose in his sacrifice was to wager his own life to show that love is stronger than death, and that the laying down of self which is the essence of this love leads not to death, but to life.” Bourgeault adds:
Jesus was not about proving that a body lives forever, but rather that the spiritual identity forged through kenotic self-surrender survives the grave and can never be taken away. The real domain of the Paschal Mystery – the life, death, and resurrection – is not dying but dying-to-self. It serves as the archetype for all our personal experiences of dying and rising to new life along the path-way of a transformation of acceptance and relinquishing, reminding us that it is not only possible but imperative to fall through fear into love because that is the only way we will ever truly know what it means to be alive.
Jesus learned this during his desert sojourn vision quest. He went on to teach it over and over as his ministry matured: “Very truly, I tell you from my heart, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life (as it is will) lose it while those who are ready to die before their death will keep experience life in its eternal dimensions. Remember this: whoever serves me must follow me, where I am, there will my servant be also. Abide in me. Rest in me. Trust and follow me.” And before his final Passover feast, he demonstrated to those he loved that letting go of self is the essence of new life when he washed their feet with heart-breaking tenderness.
St. Paul taught the early church much the same truth, too saying: “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus; Though his state was that of God, yet he did not deem equality with God
something he should cling to. Rather he emptied himself, and assuming the state of a slave, he was born in human likeness…”
Dr. Bourgeault writes in her commentary on the self-emptying love of Jesus, “The phrase “emptied himself” in line 4 of Ephesians 1 is the English translation of the Greek verb kenosein, which is where the word kenosis comes from. In context, you’ll see exactly what it means: it’s the opposite of the word “cling” in line 3. Jesus is practicing gentle release. And he continues to practice it in every moment of his life, as the next verse of the hymn makes clear:
He, being known as one of us, humbled himself obedient unto death, even death on a cross.” How beautifully simple—the path of Jesus hidden right there in plain sight! While some Christians are still reluctant to think of Jesus as teaching a path (isn’t it enough simply to be the Son of God?), in fact, the Gospels themselves make clear that he is specifically inviting us to this journey and modeling how to do it. Once you see this, it’s the touchstone throughout all his teaching: Let go! Don’t cling! Don’t hoard! Don’t assert your importance! Don’t fret. “Do not be afraid, little flock, it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom!”
Among the earliest disciples of the nascent church who grasped this spirituality passionately and profoundly was Magdalene: not St. Peter nor St. John, certainly not the Sons of Thunder Saints James and John; doubting St. Thomas didn’t get it either nor did the Lord’s own mother, Mary the Blessed and Beloved matriarch. From what we know in Scripture and tradition, it was Magdalene who got it – and lived it – and taught it along with Jesus while he lived – and then with assurance after he was raised from death.
· From the start as a companion of Jesus in Galilee, part of the cadre that travelled with him throughout Palestine during the years of teaching and healing, accompanied Jesus to Jerusalem for what we now know as Palm Sunday, stood by him at Golgotha, the tomb, the deafening silence of Holy Saturday and the world changing revelation of resurrection on Easter Sunday, it was Magdalene who embraced, honored, and advocated the inward/outward spirituality of Jesus well before the rest of the community had a clue. Judas sold Jesus out in a tragic moment of weakness. Peter abandoned him. The rest of the community hid away in fear for their own lives. But Magdalene stood witness at the tomb. And after the Sabbath she showed up in love to anoint Jesus yet again.
· The historical record is clear if still veiled that for the first two hundred years of its existence the primitive church revered Magdalene alongside St. Peter. They were in conflict when they lived, to be sure, and their partisans continued their disagreements after their respective deaths. But remember what the Rev. Dr. Raymond Brown made clear about the emerging church during the first 300 years of its development: in his ground-breaking work on St. John’s gospel and community, he showed us that there were multiple understandings of Jesus throughout the Levant as well as a variety of local liturgies, baptismal creeds, and affirmations of faith, too.
The existence of a very regional Celtic Christianity that was different from the norm of Rome is yet another example of the diversity of the early Jesus movement. And while all of these early communities were passionate in their convictions, they still welcomed one another as authentic spiritual sisters and brothers with love and made certain that anyone who followed the Risen Christ no matter what style of worship they celebrated had a place at the feast of love and grace we now as the Eucharist – including those who were informed by the insights of St. Mary Magdalene. It was not until sometime in about 350 CE that she started to be disgraced, dismissed, and dishonored by the institutional body of Christ as it became increasingly hierarchical, celibate, centralized, and masculo-centric in leadership.
As we make our way to Pentecost, I will try to unpack more of this history that has locked Mary’s wisdom away for over 1500 years, but today I want to look at one of Magdalene’s foundational acts: her anointing of Jesus. The key progressive scholars who are well-respected and committed to the health of organized Christianity – not the less precise New Age fringe or the sensationalists who have enraptured by the Da Vinci Code – all agree that the woman who anointed Jesus was Mary Magdalene. There is some obscurity in the way Scripture recounts this, but tradition and memory suggest that it was Mary of Magdala. Some of Jesus’ followers were not thrilled that this happened at the hands of a passionate woman with an alabaster jar during a private dinner – not a prostitute as Pope Gregory mused in his misogynist sermonizing nor a priesthood who might have proclaimed him a Davidic messiah – but God works in mysterious ways, the wisdom of the holy a marvel to behold, yes? Yes, I know that St. John’s gospel tells us that the woman who anoints Jesus was Mary of Bethany – and we need to wrestle with this odd detail – but I want to do that next week when I can give deep and focused attention on what St. John was likely doing when he gave us all those Marys to wonder about. I won’t let this go, but I want to zero-in on what anointing means for three reasons:
First, we’ve noted before that Jesus started out in the traditional prophetic role of judge as shaped and influenced by his mentor: St. John the Baptist. This path is fundamentally about showing who is IN and who is OUT. It is a ministry of denunciation – and the early words of Jesus are no different from those of the Baptizer. But there comes a point in the evolution or maturation of Jesus when tenderness, welcome, and healing become his emphasis.
· In chapter 11 of St. Matthew’s gospel there is an episode where the imprisoned Baptist sends word to Jesus asking: ARE you the Messiah or must we wait for another? That is, did I make a mistake in your baptism? This questioning takes place after Jesus finishes a retreat with his disciples and sends them out to bring healing and hope to the wounded. To which the as yet still un-anointed one replies: Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.
· Already there have been stories in the gospel where Jesus comes upon a crowd and his heart breaks because, as the text puts it, “he had compassion upon them because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” The wounded and afraid, the marginalized and neglected didn’t need ANOTHER judge. So, at the close of chapter 11 in St. Matthew’s gospel Jesus says what? Do you recall? “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
It is THIS Messiah – the fully human one (for that’s what the phrase Son of Man means – the child of God who is fully human) – that Magdalene anoints. She is passionate. She is fully alive, too. She weeps, she caresses Christ’s feet with her hair and anoints him God’s messiah of love. Jesus has just raised his friend Lazarus from the grave and is feasting with his most trusted allies.
And just so that we can’t miss the importance of this anointing, what does St. John’s gospel tell us happens right after this anointing? Jesus gathers his disciples, women and men, in Jerusalem for the Passover Feast of Freedom and… washes their feet as a servant leader saying: This is my new commandment – that you should love one another as I have just loved you – by letting go of your status, fears, histories and all the rest and dying to self so that you can rise in love. That is ONE reason why Magdalene’s place in the anointing matters.
Second, Magdalene’s anointing shifts the meaning of the Passion away from the distortions of the “penal or atonement theory” of the Cross and reframes it – correctly I believe – as an act of “substituted love.” Jesus is anointed to show us that dying to self is how God brings new life to us all. Not as a substitute punishment for Adam’s sin – the blood of the Lamb and all the rest – but as witness to a new way of living that trusts God with a single-heartedness that is stronger than death. At Bethany, Magdalene sends Jesus to the Cross marked by her love and God’s love affirming that she, too believes in redemptive love even if it isn’t fully clear. And if we’re paying attention, and I confess that I haven’t always done so, we see parallel acts of anointing happening on either side of Easter. Bourgeault writes:
“At Bethany she sends him forth to the cross wearing the unction of love. And on Easter morning he awakens to that same fragrance of love as she arrives at the tomb with her spices and perfumes, expecting to anoint his body for death. He has been held in love throughout his entire passage. In so doing, historian, Bruce Chilton, declares: “Mary Magdalene established the place of anointing as the central ritual in Christianity, recollecting Jesus’ death and pointing forward to his resurrection.” And what does she point towards? “Christ’s core conviction that love is stronger than death, and that the laying down of self which is the essence of this love leads not to death, but to new life in all its fullness.”
Magdalene’s anointing marks the shift of the Messiah from judgment to tenderness, from exclusion to welcome, and from abstractions about atonement to an act of embodied, loving solidarity. We have so much to learn from Mary’s witness, it seems to me, especially now. There is so much fear in the air. So much confusion and anxiety, too. I need the assurance of Magdalene who shows me just what quiet, conscious love can do in a brutal world.
· Over the next seven Sundays, we’ll take this deeper. We’ll practice a bit of what Mary meant when she taught others to see with the eyes of the heart. It’s in the fragments of the 2nd century gospel written in her name – an especially useful albeit not widely known – sacred text.
· We’ll sort through some of the reasons why the increasingly celibate, woefully misogynist, and neo-Platonic institution lied and buried St. Magdalene’s testimony, too. And, my friends, we’ll do it in her quiet and trusting spirit, ok?
One of those who capture something of Magdalene’s essence for me is the singer/songwriter, Carrie Newcomer, who periodically puts out a note called The Speed of Soul. Last week she wrote: “When I stop and open up some space for my soul to show up, it always does. I might have to be patient because the soul doesn’t travel by fast train or car, but always on foot. So, today let me resolve to travel one step at a time, one foot in front of the next. Let me see the delights that can only be seen close up and at a slower pace. What a difference it makes when I slow down enough to walk arm and arm with my own soul.” Lord, may it be so among us, too.
Magdalene’s anointing marks the shift of the Messiah from judgment to tenderness, from exclusion to welcome, and from abstractions about atonement to an act of embodied, loving solidarity. We have so much to learn from Mary’s witness, it seems to me, especially now. There is so much fear in the air. So much confusion and anxiety, too. I need the assurance of Magdalene who shows me just what quiet, conscious love can do in a brutal world.
· Over the next seven Sundays, we’ll take this deeper. We’ll practice a bit of what Mary meant when she taught others to see with the eyes of the heart. It’s in the fragments of the 2nd century gospel written in her name – an especially useful albeit not widely known – sacred text.
· We’ll sort through some of the reasons why the increasingly celibate, woefully misogynist, and neo-Platonic institution lied and buried St. Magdalene’s testimony, too. And, my friends, we’ll do it in her quiet and trusting spirit, ok?
One of those who capture something of Magdalene’s essence for me is the singer/songwriter, Carrie Newcomer, who periodically puts out a note called The Speed of Soul. Last week she wrote: “When I stop and open up some space for my soul to show up, it always does. I might have to be patient because the soul doesn’t travel by fast train or car, but always on foot. So, today let me resolve to travel one step at a time, one foot in front of the next. Let me see the delights that can only be seen close up and at a slower pace. What a difference it makes when I slow down enough to walk arm and arm with my own soul.” Lord, may it be so among us, too.
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