In the beginning we have the story of the garden. We see Adam and Eve choose to eat from the forbidden tree. In that moment the heart of God broke. They hid from God, and believed themselves hidden. As if two people could hide themselves from God behind a few trees. When God calls out creation itself was torn apart. “Where are you?” reverberated from the edges of the cosmos and back again an untold number of times. It’s a scream through the void from brokenness and grieving love. A voice that grieved to know why those he loves are fearfully hiding.
Early Easter morning before dawn, the women arrived at the tomb. The stone was rolled away and their hearts broke again. Their unsettled grief pierced their bodies again. The disciple Magdalene ran for help and returned she again to the tomb – now alone. She fought a real fear. Fear that those in power had destroyed the body. Fear that they were hunting down his disciples to meet the same fate. She chose to be next as she ran back to the tomb. In the tomb she saw the angels and she shared her broken hearted fear between tears – “they have taken my Lord away”.
A man appeared at the entrance and she demanded of him – “where have you put him, I am taking him back.” Her broken heart ready to tear apart creation to be back with the broken body of Jesus. With love in his eyes the man stood in front of her waiting. Waiting to catch her eye. He knew her. He tenderly called to her. Just above a whisper Jesus said her name – “Mary”.
She ran to him. She embraced him to never let go. Jesus was not taken. He was not missing. He was not hiding. He was waiting for her to see him. In joy they wept. They embraced. They stood there as Jesus’ love washed over her. Mary’s love washed over him. After a time Jesus told Mary that she needed to let go. That a forever together is coming, but that would have to wait. Return to the locked upper room. Tell the others. I will see you again soon.
Hope replaced the piercing grief. All she knew was grief since she helplessly watched Jesus drown in his own blood upon a cross.
Indescribable grief into an endless hope at the calling of her name.
He is risen.
He is risen indeed.
Today may we be like the tower of faith, Mary Magdalene. Raw in her emotion and brokenness, she would stop at nothing to embrace her Lord again. Help me Jesus to be like her, and learn from her.