My Friend, Mary Magdalene

I won’t deny it: I am friends with many saints, not just a few. But there are some saints with whom I have a very particular relationship and who have mentored me throughout my life. One of these is St. Mary Magdalene.

I discovered her when I was a teenager, reading the Gospel attentively for the very first time. I had read the Gospel stories before and heard them at Mass, however with little understanding and probably little attention. But when I entered the convent as a young teenager, the Gospels suddenly became alive for me, drawing me into the life of Jesus and his followers.

There was just one problem: As I read through Matthew and Mark, it seemed like the “chosen ones” were men – with the exception, of course, of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Then I began reading Luke’s Gospel account and there she was, a woman among women followers: Mary Magdalene. Yes, I had encountered her in Matthew and Mark, but not like this! Here it was clear: she followed Jesus and ministered to Him – in many ways just like the apostles. “Soon afterward he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God. And the twelve were with him, and also some women who had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, …and many others, who provided for them out of their means” (Lk 8:1-3).

Finally! Women who traveled with Jesus and the twelve as He went through cities and villages, and the first among them was Mary Magdalene. I began to look for her in the Gospel accounts. I started praying to her, carrying on conversations with her, asking that she teach me to be a faithful follower of Jesus.

I wondered about the seven demons (I knew I had a few of my own!), but those had been driven out by Jesus and that was the only part of the story that I needed to know, which is why the Gospel doesn’t elaborate. Jesus drives out demons and heals: all demons, all illnesses.

As I collected and pieced together the bits and pieces of data that the Gospels provide on Mary Magdalene, I stood amazed before this strong woman disciple of Jesus. After Luke’s introduction, the next mention of her is again with Jesus’ Mother and the other women at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25), when most of the men – John excepted – had abandoned their Master. I can only imagine the strength it took to remain there, listening to the taunts and the blasphemies, taking in the barbaric torture and the agony of Jesus, hearing His heartrending last words. Still she did not flee. Her presence and the presence of the women, Mary Most Holy, and the youngest disciple were one of the few consolations Jesus had in His darkest hour.

Mary Magdalene is still there as the Lord’s body is removed from the cross and laid in the tomb (Lk 23:50-56). And even when most of the others go home, Mary Magdalene takes up her station opposite the tomb and keeps vigil (Mt 27:61).

When my own father’s life ended suddenly and tragically through suicide (because of depression caused by a cancer medication), this dear Saint was with me throughout the suffering and the grief. With Mary Most Holy she stayed with me, silently comforting and showing me how to grieve. She had always been a “best friend” saint, but now she became a “soul-sister” saint. 

Mary Magdalene was the first to discover the empty tomb (Jn 20:1-2). More loss. Now she had nothing physical to hang on to, not even a tomb where she could go and pray. Her tears (Jn 20:11-13) showed me that I could honor my own bereavement and the deep loss I felt, with the tears I tried so desperately to keep back.

Mary Magdalene’s tears showed me that I could honor my own bereavement and the deep loss I felt, with the tears I tried so desperately to keep back.

Through her own story, my sister-saint showed me something else: namely, that Jesus is with us amid our suffering, even when we don’t recognize Him (see Jn 20:14-16). He is gentle and tender, listening, caring, moving according to our rhythm and readiness, reaching out and calling us by name. He says our name like no other can say it. The very sound of His voice brings comfort and healing.

It wasn’t the first time Jesus had healed Mary Magdalene and it probably wasn’t the last. Each healing brought with it a call (see Jn 20:17-18). This time the call was astounding! Jesus commissioned Mary to be the Apostle to the apostles, bringing them the stupendous news of His resurrection and His forthcoming ascension! It was totally unimaginable – a woman as the first witness of Jesus’ resurrection and the Apostle sent to the Twelve!

This is the woman who has inspired and mentored me throughout the whole of my long religious life. I encountered her 58 years ago in 1963, my first year in the convent. She has been a faithful friend and confidant ever since – in sorrow and in joy, in mission and in my relationship with Jesus. Mary Magdalene is like a prism reflecting for me the life and presence of Jesus, her Lord and mine.  

I believe that it’s not we who choose the saints, but the saints who choose us. Which saints have chosen you? May they accompany you throughout this graced Lenten season.

United in Jesus our Master and Lord
and in His saints,

Sr. Mary Leonora, fsp

You have suffered a long time

I am in one of those years where everything about life is being undone and redone, unmade and remade, unsung and resung, stopped and started, forgotten and remembered, cast down and lifted up. A year when everything is out of my control. A year blessed, so blessed, and yet so frighteningly raw.

When was the last time you had a year like this? I read somewhere that a person’s identity is refashioned several times in their adult life.

That’s the thing about understanding that there is a map to life, an expected set of transitions that are usually sparked by daily occurrences that aren’t quite pleasant. When you realize that they are a normal part of holiness, you know where to start to find the way through them.

This morning in confession, Jesus (through the voice of the confessor) finally heard and responded to the innermost cry of my heart. No mere moralizing, and preaching, explaining and psychologizing…the fallback responses when people can’t quite see their way to the person but stop short with managing what they think is the problem. (How often I do this to others!)

Instead, Father said simply this,

“You have suffered a long time.
This is an important transition in your life.
Live it in expectancy, the anticipation of where Jesus will be leading you next.
Ask for the gift of discernment.”

Once you are seen, heard, once someone reaches into your heart with true care, you have the key to emerge from whatever pain is entangling you. And you can put order to your soul.

Here are three things that can help put order to your soul.

Let Jesus love you.

Pray simply in a soul-shepherding contemplative method. For example, in a quiet place, slowly, resting in the Lord, pray:

  • To you, Lord Jesus, I lift my soul…
  • To you, Lord Jesus, I am lifted up.
  • To you, Lord Jesus.
  • Lord Jesus.
  • To you.
  • Lift my soul
  • Lift my soul to you
  • In you, Lord Jesus, I am lifted up.
  • Lord Jesus
  • Lord Jesus
  • Lord Jesus…

Write a letter to yourself from God.

Go about this simply. On a piece of paper or in a journal begin, “Dearest child (or your name, or little girl, or my favorite one, etc. naming the way God speaks to you with endearment, or the way you desire to hear him address you.). I see you… (write what God sees and notices about you in your difficult transition or situation.) I get it (God says) that you are trying to…. I like this about you, my child, right here in the midst of this predicament…. When I see you this way I smile.

Then respond to God with whatever you feel you need. What you don’t understand. What you wish he would do or answer or change. How he would be with you….

Finally thank God for his kindness to you from the beginning of time to this very day.

Choose the meaning you are going to assign to the situation or struggle you are living.

When we are a little clearer, when our soul has been shepherded by God and we are freer from the entanglements of passions and thoughts, we get to assign the meaning we want to give to what is happening to us. Short phrases dropped into the heart can help here: Blessed be God in his gifts. God is coming. God knows what he is doing and I praise him for all he does in my life.

At the end of the day, this day which started with such a stormy soul-wrenching sorrow, I feel that I can embody dignity, compassion and tenderness. First for myself, for all the ways I’m not enough, for all the ways I struggle because of illness and trauma, for all the unanswered and unanswerable questions. And then for others. May I extend a culture of tender care in every way, at all times, with everyone.

Thanks for joining me on the journey!
Sr Kathryn

Photo Credit: Cathopic: Yandry Fernández Perdomo

When the earth shatters seeds grow

This past weekend we learned of a terrible event that happened back in late November, when Ethiopian Orthodox Christians gathered for a festival along with others seeking refuge from the ongoing fighting in the Tigray region. Eritrean soldiers arrived at the monastery and opened fire, killing over 70 people. Other recent news including the killing of 18 protesters in the military crackdown in Myanmar.

And then I read a third article, in which I learned that laboratories across Africa and Southeast Asia stand ready to manufacture vaccines to meet a global shortfall—but the patent holders are unwilling to share crucial information that could save hundreds of thousands of lives.

I have to tell you this, my friends: I read all these stories and my Lent just broke open. What can I think, or say, or even pray in the face of such pain?

I have to take refuge in the cross, in Jesus on the cross, at that execution place where this season is leading us. Jesus knew. Jesus knew what would be in the hearts of all these victims. Even more than that, he knew what would be in the hearts of all these perpetrators. And his heart went out—to all of them.

I’m not a gardener, but many of my sisters are. What I have learned from them is that when the earth shatters—a little bit—seeds can find soil in which to grow. When our humanity shatters, when our hearts shatter, then there is a place for God’s love to enter and take root and flourish. It’s difficult not to focus on the wound that shattered the heart, even the wounds that shattered Jesus’ body, but behind all the pain is God’s intentionality. We are wounded, we are suffering, we are victim and perpetrator, but we can all be redeemed. We can all enter the Kingdom. Jesus knew all humanity’s cruelty and selfishness—and died for us anyway.

That is where Lent is headed, where Lent has always been headed: to the cross. The world is just making it a major point, this week, to remind us of that.

Blessings,
Sr Kathryn