There were also women looking on from a distance; among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. These used to follow him and provided for him when he was in Galilee; and there were many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem. When evening had come, and since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate wondered if he were already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him whether he had been dead for some time. When he learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the body to Joseph. Then Joseph bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where the body was laid. When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, ‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?’ When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’ -- Mark 15:40 - 16:7
My name is Miryam, and I come from a place called Magdala. You may have heard of me, but what you have heard is not necessarily the whole truth. I cannot tell my whole story here, but I will tell you that I had an illness, "demons," they were called, and people said I had seven of them, a huge number. I will not tell of the life I led before I met this healer from Galilee, but with one touch he redeemed me from the sickness and from the chains of whispers, innuendoes and shame my so-called "neighbors" had cast about me as surely as if they were of cold iron. That was my first redemption. I was a woman of means; I had no father, no husband, no son or brother to lay claim to me and what I possessed. I was free to make my own choices, and my choice was to follow this healer and to support his ministry as did several other women.
We were only women, but to Jesus, we were humans and people with gifts to give, over and above the purses of coins we paid for food and lodging. I listened to him, more intently than any, probably, for soon he began teaching me as well as his male disciples. He spoke to my soul and I drank in his words like my thirst would never be quenched. His male disciples were jealous that Jesus often sought me out to talk and to teach, and they muttered about me, but out of his hearing or he would have silenced them. They were jealous that I, a mere woman, would be privy to the secrets of the kingdom, secrets that they often could not comprehend. I did not gloat over them; I simply accepted their jealousy and anger and tried to speak softly and graciously, as Jesus had taught me to do.
Following him up that hill that morning, watching his struggle with the cross beam resting on his bloody shoulders, seeing him stagger and fall, were among the worst moments of my life. Here was my saviour, my redeemer, and I could do nothing to help him, nothing other than cry out in grief and support his mother whose grief was surely more deep than my own since her body had borne him and her hands had guided his baby steps. We mourned togeher there at the foot of the cross where he hung until that terrible moment, the moment when he cried, "It is finished!" I didn't know how I could live with the grief; indeed, I wished to die as well, but I had one more duty to do, so I thought.
The three of us came to the tomb on the day after the Sabbath to do what the men could not -- ritually bathe and anoint his dead body. For the men, it would have made them ritually unclean for a time yet for us it was more permissible since we were merely women. We got to the tomb but the stone was moved and we could see the darkness inside. What manner of thing was this? We looked inside and the grave-clothes lay flat on the place where his body had been. Then a shining being told us not to be afraid, but it had quite the opposite effect. Who would not have been afraid, seeing such a thing and such a person. Had I told someone they would have backed away from me as if my demons had returned. Still, we believed, and that was my second redemption.
After the ascension, I spoke to Peter and the disciples about the things Jesus had taught me, taught them too, but that they had not understood. I tried to teach them but not all of what message Jesus had given me was received. I was only a woman; how could I understand the teachings of the rabbi when the men closest to him could not? They listened, but I could tell they did not truly accept my words, the words Jesus had given me. I tried, I truly tried, but they began to withdraw from me and so I was gradually isolated and removed from the presence of those who claimed discipleship.
My final humiliation came several hundred years after my death when one of the so--called "Church Fathers" took my story and interpreted it to mean that I was a prostitute saved by Jesus from the life of a common whore. I swear to you, I was never a whore, I never sold myself, nor did I give myself to any man save one, and him I shall not name. I was not, as some claim, Jesus' wife, although in many ways I was closer to him than any wife, and there was no impropriety between us. He loved me, but he loved God more, and so he followed God's wishes and commandments and that was enough for me. Still, the shameful label and brand was laid on my soul for centuries after that.
Not until a few years ago was I redeemed a third time, redeemed and restored with my name intact and my own, without the label "prostitute." I regret only that my voice was silenced for so long. I had words from Jesus that should have been passed on but were passed over instead. Still, I can serve as a guide, a mentor, to women who find themselves disbelieved and devalued.
I can ask that you, as women, seek to cast out the demons of prejudice, mysogyny, toxic patriarchialism and sexual exploitation. I can ask that you help me to follow the path of the Healer who taught me that all of God's children have value, something many of the "righteous" and "church fathers" had and have forgotten in their quest for power and prestige. I ask, no, I pray that you will seek the redemption of others, not just of their immortal souls but their very beings, their bodies, their brains as well as their wombs. Let them no more be degraded and dishonored but raised to places of equality and strength.
I opened my eyes, ears and heart to my Healer and he healed more than my "demons." I stood at the cross when the men were afraid to show their faces. I went to the tomb to give cleansing and honor to a man who bore a dishonorable death. I taught until I was silenced by those who had other motives. God finally turned the hearts of those who robbed me of my honor and my good name. Do not rest until all those whose honor and good names have been ruined have been restored and redeemed.
It will be my fourth redemption - and the redemption of millions with me.
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