A common phrase among Christians is that we are "Easter people" or a "resurrection people." We are a people who live into the hope of the Easter story and what both Christ's resurrection and our resurrections means for us. It's a phrase that symbolizes newness and life.
A few days ago was the feast day of Mary Magdalene, and I heard in chapel the resurrection accounts. It's a familiar set of stories to me. I grew up in the church and have been hearing of Mary Magdalene at the tomb for what feels like my whole life. But this time, through singing and praying with my mind on Mary and her experience, I began thinking about this concept of being "Easter people" with renewed interest. In what ways might we look at her story with fresh and new eyes?
"Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’" Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her."
John 20:1-18 (NRSV)
The way I've always read and listened to this passage is to take it at face value. Stories follow a linear pattern. There is plot progression and climax and eventually a tidy resolution. I assumed the Gospel writer to be progressing the story along in linear patterns as well. But what if the story isn't a line at all? What if the story, instead, is circular? What if the end of the Gospel is, in fact, the beginning?
John's resurrection account in chapter 20 begins "while it is still dark." I think this is pulling us backwards to the beginning of John. It is giving us a hint that this story isn't as linear as we imagine most stories to be. John 1 is its own version of the Creation story. If you recall, there was darkness at the beginning of time. Genesis tells us that God created light from a Word, and John tells us the same thing in slightly different language...
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it."
John 1:1-5 (NRSV)
The darkness that loomed over Mary Magdalene and the other disciples at the beginning of chapter 20 seemed to be as all-encompassing as the darkness at the start of time. I think that the darkness John is describing at the beginning of chapter 20 isn't just physical darkness of night, but an allusion to the beginning of time that he recounts in the opening chapter of the Gospel. If this were a linear story, you might suspect that the darkness might win out. Jesus, the Light of the World, has died after all. But going back to the beginning and realizing that we are moving in a circular pattern, we get a glimpse of Light coming once again.
The circle crests, and the story continues. Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb and finds the stone rolled away. She jumps to the first conclusion that seemed rational to her - someone has stolen the body of Jesus. She runs to Peter and the disciple that Jesus loved. These two disciples, in John’s account, were the last two disciples with Jesus before he died. One of them was at the foot of the cross and was given charge of Jesus’ mother; the other denied him three times. Two radically different stories, and yet these are the two who race to the tomb.
When the men arrive there are no angels and no miraculous messages. Instead they find only empty grave clothes and a neatly folded cloth. They go back to their homes, leaving Mary Magdalene weeping next to the gaping entrance of the tomb, the dark and empty reminder of everything she has lost. Alone once more, she gazes into the darkness of the tomb. But this time, she sees a sight so very different than before. The tomb is no longer empty, but is now occupied by two angels.
Echoing the report she gave to the men earlier, she explains to the angels her interpretation of the morning’s events - someone has stolen Jesus' body. She is seemingly stuck in the "darkness" of her present circumstances, unable to see the reality surrounding her. She tells the angels what she believes to be true. She assumes a reality that makes sense in the darkness. This perceived reality is repeated a third time. This time to a “gardener.”
It has always amazed me that Mary didn’t recognize Jesus immediately. After all, this was a woman healed by Jesus. She spent years with him actively learning, listening, talking, eating, walking, and on and on it goes. She was even one of those faithful few at the foot of the cross when Jesus breathed his last. But the darkness she was sitting in seemed to be winning. It was a darkness of the senses. Just as in the first chapter of John, however, the Light shined into the darkness.
I imagine Jesus speaking gently to Mary, like dawn slowly growing brighter on the horizon. "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" Again, John is drawing us back to the opening of the Gospel narrative, this time to the inauguration of Jesus' ministry.
"The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, “What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.” They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon."
John 1:35-39 (NRSV)
If you're like me and assume a linear story-telling, you may have missed the similarities between the resurrection account and the opening of the Gospel. But if we look at it as a circular pattern, we can see that John is drawing us back to the beginning. Just like a circle cresting and closing in on itself, the beginning and end blurs together and meet to form something new and old at the same time.
As is typical of John's depiction of Jesus, the very first words on his lips form a question. "What are you looking for?" Jesus invites John the Baptist's disciples to dialogue with him. He opens the door for relationship in asking a question of them.
In the same way, the now resurrected Jesus comes to Mary with a similar question. "Whom are you looking for?" Her eyes and ears strain in the darkness of the present circumstances. She is looking, aching for her eyes to behold her dead friend. But Light shines out clear and strong in the darkness. "Mary..." She was looking, but not seeing. Listening, but not hearing. And in this deafening darkness, he calls her name.
Dawn breaks. Understanding bursts in her mind like brush catching fire and it spreads in amazement through her body. She turns. "Rabbouni!" Just like the disciples at the beginning of the Gospel, she calls him Teacher. She recognizes him to be the Person she knows and loves, the Person she has followed, the Person that loves her so, so much.
The Gospel writer seems to be drawing some pretty strong parallels between these stories. But why? Why make the story circular? What might it mean for the end to be in the beginning of the text?
I believe it's a symbolic way of showing us that as resurrection people, we live in a circular pattern. Like our assumption of a good story, we tend to think of life as a linear progression. We are conceived and then we are born. We grow into maturity. We age, counting the years in ever increasing numbers. And then, at some point, we die. The end. But is it, truly?
Instead of a linear way of looking at our lives, I think John's Gospel gives us a new way of seeing life and death. The Gospel writer seems to say, instead, that our end is in fact a beginning. Our deaths are actually just the closing of the circle. And the amazing thing about circles is that as one closes, it starts again.
The first chapter of John tells us of the start of Jesus' earthly ministry. He beckons the disciples, "Come and see." He knows that the Light he's shining out needs time to grow steadily brighter until all people see.
I've been making the assertion that there are parallels to these two stories in John's Gospel, so you might expect that Jesus would again say, "Come and see" to Mary. Perhaps she would be invited to hold him, allowed to reassure herself of this mind boggling new reality. But he doesn't extend that invitation. The literary pattern breaks suddenly and Jesus says quite the opposite of "Come and see." He tells Mary, instead, not to hold on to him. Why? Yet again, I think the answer lies in the nature of circles.
As I've mentioned, once a circle closes and finishes it's initial loop, it starts again. But with each loop, it is never exactly the same. Even as it follows the same path, there is a new passing look at what is seemingly familiar territory. These stories are stories of ministries beginning. The circle starts with Jesus' ministry. And his ministry is characterized by allowing all people to come and see. But as the circle closes off, Jesus inaugurates a new ministry. One in which Mary is the first of many to be called.
"Go, and tell." That is the charge of ministry laid on Mary. The time for seeing for herself is over, the time for showing others has come. The Light which was seemingly snuffed out has shown to be triumphant, casting darkness aside and illuminating all our sight. And now, for Mary, she can no longer hold on to Jesus for herself. The initial path of the circle is complete. Jesus' earthly ministry is over, but the Dominion of Light, like a circle, is ever coming into being. Mary as first apostle is called into a new ministry, not as an observer, but as an active participant.
The circle John draws with his Gospel story is still going on. The Gospel text ends, but Mary's commissioning is one that is echoed to us. "Go and tell." For Mary it was time to live into a new reality of ministry in which she was given a part of a great responsibility. We hear that same commission to go and tell. The circle continues. We take up the mantle of ministry, run the same race as those who have gone before. And they stand as witnesses, encouraging us in a great cloud as we make our own journey through the circle that is life.
Let us take comfort in knowing that this circle of story, this circle of ministry, this circle of Light and Love, continues. There is a deep paradox in that we tell a story of old and yet also a story of newness. There is nothing new under the sun, and yet there is newness of life offered to us each day. And someday, as our own circles come to a close, let us live in the hope of the resurrection, knowing that the circle goes on.