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OPENING WORDS the green of Jesus is breaking the ground, and the sweet smell of delicious Jesus is opening the house^ and the dance of Jesus music has hold of the air and mm - > the world is turning ~~'> in the body of Jesus and the future is possible. ;cSpring Song," by Lucille Clifton MARY'S STORY Marilyn Sewell Because of the description in our newsletter, the-iiF¥efl£-Steps," many of you may be thinking that I'm going to preach a sermon on Mary, the Mother of God. Actually, I'm going to preach about another Mary, Mary Magdalene. I thought, "Would they rather hear a sermon about a saint or a sinner? An icon or a prostitute?" Since evil is always more interesting, more complex—let's face it—evil is juicier than good, I decided on Mary Magdalene. Now what is your picture of Mary Magdalene? Western art depicts her as a loose woman, a wanton woman, with unbound breasts and long golden or perhaps red hair. But it was after I did my research that I discovered there is absolutely no evidence that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute—actually, she was given a bad rap by the church hierarchy. So I'm going to begin today by telling you who Mary really was, according to the best contemporary scholarship. She likely came from a prosperous fishing village on the northwest bank of Galilee. Today a rusting sign by the lake tells tourists that this is the birthplace of Mary of Magdala who "followed and ministered to Jesus." / Mary was one of Jesus' disciples, the leader among a group of women -v from Galilee who followed Jesus throughout his ministry and-ministered to him. Mary helped support Jesus materially, so she was a woman of at least some means. She was healed by Jesus of "seven demons," the scripture says, and these demons refer not to sin, but to some physical malady such as epilepsy. She is present, along with other women, at the crucifixion; she »v *"** ** •— leads them to the tomb, at some jeopardy, to anoint Jesus' body and finds the ~- - -- ) tomb empty. Jesus appears first to her and so she is the first to know of the resurrection. When she sees the risen Jesus, she calls him "Rapbo^i," a term of intimacy. She is told to bring the news back to Jesus' male disciples, who have fled the scene. These things we know from the New Testament. But the most interesting treatment of Mary Magdalene is in the Gnostic gospels, gospels that were written about the same time as much of the New Testament, but not included in the canon, or the approved books of the V "^ "* —i. m. church. This ancient writing was discovered only in 1945, when an Arab peasant dug4h@m up in Upper Egypt. He took the 13 papyrus books, bound in leather, and dumped them on the floor. His mother burned much of the text to kindle her fire, but then a local history teacher saw one of the books, guessed at their worth, and they were sold on the black market. Eventually they ended up in the hands of scholars, and they are slowly being translated. It is thought that when Christianity became the official religion, these books, considered heretical, were being systematically destroyed. Perhaps a monk buried these copies over 1600 years ago in order to preserve them, and there they stayed until 1945. In the Gnostic gospels of Mary, Thomas, and Philip, Mary is clearly a spiritual companion of Jesus. Jesus is said to have loved her more than all the other disciples, and he used to kiss her often on the mouth. She is the one who understood Jesus' message more profoundly than the others, and she was called upon to interpret his message to the other disciples, to give them courage in the face of persecution. Because she was favored, the other disciples were jealous of her. Jesus rebuked them when they criticized her, saying, "Why have I not loved you like her." Peter at one point says, "Let Mary leave us, for women are not worthy of life." Jesus says he "will make her a living spirit. resembling you males." How then did Mary come to be characterized as a prostitute? She was not considered such by the early Christians, many of whom believed in f _ " women's equality and saw Mary as a disciple. The shift came in the 6th mm- t- i-. „^_ 3»,_ century when Pope Gregory in his commentaries conflated the story of Mary Magdalene with stories of other women who encountered Jesus. He equated her with the woman who breaks ointment on Jesus' feet and wets his feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair. And then there is the woman who anoints Jesus with precious oil. As Christianity moved to define itself, the bishops were of course claiming their authority through Peter, the founder of the Church. Adherents of Peter would have protected him fiercely. Mary had been quite clqse to Jesus, and so making her a prostitute robbed her of her authority as a prophetic figure and made her merely an example of Jesus' compassion and mercy.1 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus representj^taurset this very destructive split in Western thinking between the spirit and the flesh. The mother of Jesus is an icon, pure spirit, asexual, whereas Mary Magdalene represents sensuality, sexuality, and is of the earth, of the flesh, and therefore to be feared, like Eve. She is danger, she is temptress, whereas Mary the 'This brief history of the shifting of Mary Magdalene from beloved disciple to prostitute was largely taken from Rosemary Radford Ruether, in an article appearing in the National Catholic Reporter, May 9,1996. V mother of Jesus is pure unadulterated love, love not contaminated by mere ;..r. •*• e&j t. k °^ ,_.. flesh. The virgin and the whore, a dichotomy that still persists. As I began to contemplate Mary Magdalene as she really was, I began to think. What would she say if she were to tell her own story, as she was not allowed to do in the canon. What would she tell us about herself? What would she tell us about Jesus? The rest of the sermon will be in the imagined words of Mary. As much as possible I will adhere to the truth of what we know of her. I am Mary of Magdela, the daughter of a prosperous fisherman on the seas of Galilee and the widow of another man of the sea, who was lost to the sea. Though that loss was terrible for me, it does not touch the kind of grief I now feel, having just lost my Jesus. You have heard of him, have you not? How can I put into words what this man was like. He was as no other man I have ever met. He had such a presence—everyone was drawn to him, rich and poor alike. Wherever he went, huge crowds would follow, just to get near, as if pulled along by some invisible hand. He was a great teacher. And when he spoke, he often told stories, stories that seemed puzzling at first, but ^* stories that stayed with you until their truth became part of your deep XW *-*< (^ knowing. I first met Jesus when I was at the market with my brother. As you know, no respectable woman can go out alone, and so my brother escorted me, as usual. We gathered our food for the day, and then as we turned to go home, we saw the crowd gathering. What was this about, we wondered. It seemed a man was at the center of the crowd. We drew closer. Full of awe, I watched him. He was swarthy, with dark hair, and he looked strong, like one who was used to working with his hands. He was healing the sick, people with all kinds of diseases and torments, those who were possessed of demons, and those with the palsy. I can't explain why, but in his presence, I felt a kind of warmth and freedom that I never felt before. He couldn't see me because I was behind my veil, but then my eyes met his eyes. His eyes spoke of love—not the kind of love between a man and a woman, but something different, something I can't quite define, something like the very love of God in a mere man's eyes. I rushed forward before my brother could stop me, and I fell in the dust at his feet. "Master," I cried, "Master, heal me! For these many years, ''- «•- ... *. demons have tormented me—I have the falling sickness. Please! Help me!" He heard my cry and had mercy on me. He placed his hands upon my head, one on either side, and was silent. I felt something move through me, some kind of force move all the way through my body. And then he said, "Go in peace. Your faith has made you whole." And it was true. I never was troubled with the falling sickness again. My brother was not the kind to give credence to " itinerant faith healers," as he called Jesus. He pulled me to my feet and whispered, "Leave this man. He is a magician, a deceiver, he has made a fool of you! Come home, where you belong." But I knew what was real and what was not real. tx._ tw ^ te_ I knew that I had to see this man Jesus again.

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