Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places,

Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who has had a tumultuous week.

What Mary saw.

There was a moment of recognition and relief as Mary Magdalene stood before Jesus.  A single point in time, didn’t last long, perhaps just a lifetime or so.

We might imagine what Mary saw before that moment.  She believed she was looking at the gardener.  Why not?  Who else would be there at that hour in that place by the tomb?  Counting backward, she saw two angels in white, through her tears, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying.  She saw Peter and the other unnamed disciple after running breathlessly to find them.  She saw through the morning darkness the stone had been rolled away.  She saw an empty tomb.

But Mary saw so much more before that morning.  Jesus dying on the cross, his trial, his abandonment. She saw what it was like to live poor and female.  Discrimination, being invisible, having no rights, having reason to fear, disregarded, put down, the subject of whispers and outright rebukes, the recognition that the patriarchal system into which she was born was unrelenting, unforgiving, ready to punish the slightest misstep, all this a weight on her shoulders she couldn’t shrug away.

How many Marys are living today?!  How many people have had their spirits crushed, their freedoms taken, their hopes lying strewn across the floors of refugee camps, war zones, street corners, and legislation halls?

But there she was, in the garden of Jesus’ tomb, overwhelmed by the last few days, let alone her life, only to see a gardener standing before her.

And now the moment.  Right there in John 20:16.   She hears her name.  Mary!  No longer disregarded and invisible, but a person with a name, who is noticed.  Then she turns.  The life she saw before that moment has now changed direction.

She saw resurrection.  She saw her world get larger.  She saw possibility instead of barriers. She saw hope outlined in splendid colors, a future full of compassion not violence, humanity not doomed but given new life.

Mary goes and announces to the other disciples “I have seen the Lord” and told them the things Jesus said to her.  Can you imagine listening in and seeing their faces?

But that’s the last time we see Mary.  There is no record of her life from that moment on.  Perhaps the memory of that morning slowly began to fade and the system that killed Jesus killed her spirit as well.

But I would rather believe what she saw that morning stayed with her every day of her life.  Every time she heard her name, she would hear Jesus’ voice, and every time she turned, she would see hope and compassion before her, standing strong.

This Easter, and all our tomorrows, despite this old and cranky world, I want to see what Mary saw.

Happy Easter,

Harry