The full story of Jesus appearing to Mary Magdalene after His resurrection can be found in John 20:11-18.
The morning is quiet and dark and still. The sun hasn’t yet lightened the sky, no birds yet sing. Any other day she’d consider such a morning peaceful. She used to love walking with Him in the mornings. The other disciples were loath to wake up early, always staying under their blankets as long as they possibly could, and grumbling loudly when it was finally time to get up. But she spent so long being woken by nightmares and pounding voices in her head that even now—years after He healed her—her body still hasn’t gotten the hang of sleeping in. So every so often the two of them would wake and walk, usually in silence. Sometimes she’d share something on her heart, and He’d listen. Mostly, though, His presence beside her was enough.
Not so today.
The sight of His empty tomb is almost too much to handle. “Who could’ve taken Him?” she asks the two men when they ask why she’s crying. “Where would they have brought Him?” She doesn’t know who they are or why they’re there, and she can’t quite make herself care. All she can see is the cold stone where her Lord had just days ago been laid. Even in death He’s been stripped of the dignity of a peaceful resting place.
She wipes tears from her face, and as she turns to leave—maybe John and Peter have heard news—she nearly collides with another man, one she hadn’t noticed upon entering the garden.
“Oh, excuse me,” she says, not making eye contact with the man. She tries to brush past Him, but He stops her with a question.
“Why are you crying?” There’s something familiar in His voice that she can’t quite pinpoint. “Who are you looking for?”
He must be the gardener, she thinks. Maybe he moved Jesus. Why he would do such a thing, though, she can’t possibly fathom. “If you’ve taken Him,” she says a bit unkindly––but she’s tired and heartbroken and her patience is wearing thin. ”Please tell me where you’ve put Him, and I will go and get Him.”
There’s a brief pause before the man speaks. In that moment she looks up and meets His eyes.
He says, “Mary.”
Just that. Her name.
She hears her name called every day, by any number of people. Mary, can you help me? Mary, come taste this! You’re a good friend, Mary. But no one says her name like He does. Full of love and compassion and grace deeper than she could ever put into words.
He says her name, one simple word, and she can’t help but know Him.
*
Here was a woman who’d once been possessed by multiple demons. Seven, to be exact.
We can imagine that during that period of her life, Mary had no family, no friends. More than likely, no one wanted to go anywhere near her, out of fear, disgust, or just plain hatred.
We can imagine hers was a life of utter isolation, darkness, and depravity—until Jesus came and drove out the darkness. Until He reminded her who she was: His beloved daughter, His Mary. Ever after, out of love for and devotion to her Lord, she chose to stay close by His side. She traveled with Jesus, financially supported His ministry, and was present at His crucifixion—faithful to Him until His last breath, even when most of His disciples had abandoned Him.
This was the woman who Jesus chose to appear to first. It seems like a bit of a strange choice. Peter and John had just been there; Jesus could’ve revealed Himself to them. He could’ve skipped the garden encounter altogether and waited to show Himself until later that night, in the house where all the disciples were gathered.
But instead, he chose a woman of once-ill repute to carry the glorious message of His resurrection back to the disciples. He called Mary by name—perhaps in the same way He had when He drove the demons from her body. It was a full-circle moment of redemption for her.
Because that’s who He is: a personal, loving God, redeeming us and inviting us into relationship with Him in a way that’s unique to our circumstances, our story. He calls us by name, and when He does it’s a call to remember who we are, a call to return to Him, and a call to share the amazing news of what He’s done for us. The world is hurting, but Jesus brings healing.
