See her running from the sepulchre as fast as she had so lately run to it; for love easily changes its employment at the voice of its beloved. She had come to anoint the body of Jesus; there is no need of that now, for Jesus is alive; but still there is something to do for Jesus—to tell His disciples. Peter, James, John, and the other disciples are at home, sorrowful and fearful. He whom they loved and trusted is no more; and they, whither shall they go? Besides this, there was an additional sorrow. They had forsaken their good Master in the day of His distress; Peter had even denied with an oath that he knew Him; and they now sat depressed and anxious in that upper chamber in which so lately they had eaten the Passover with Him. But He is alive! and Mary knows it! Shall she wait to see Him? No, she must go quickly and tell His disciples. "This commandment have we from God, that He that loveth God, love his brother also." [Footnote 111]
[Footnote 111: I. St. John iv. 21.]
And Mary leaves the sepulchre, leaves Christ, to go and carry the joyful news to His afflicted brethren. With nimble feet, with eager countenance, she returns to the city, seeks out the well-known house, and appears in the midst of the sorrowing group, with the exclamation: "Jesus is alive! He is risen from the dead!"
Alas! poor Magdalene! "Her words seemed to them as an idle tale." To us, familiar with the doctrine and proofs of our Lord's Resurrection, it is wonderful how slow the apostles were to believe it. No doubt, their slowness to believe is a benefit to us, because it was the occasion of multiplying the proofs. Perhaps, too, it was not unnatural; for faith does not come all at once. There is often a period between doubt and faith, a period of inconsistency; in which one is at one moment all Christian, and at another believes nothing. Certainly it was so with the apostles on Easter Day, and Mary Magdalene seems to have shared their infirmity. The apostles, as soon as they had heard the news that Christ has risen, set out for the sepulchre. When they came to the place, they found indeed the grave open, and the linen cloths, in which the Lord's body had been wrapped, lying in it, and the guard gone; but Him they saw not. Mary Magdalene accompanied them, and when she saw neither the Lord Himself, nor the angel who had spoken to her, and when she saw the incredulous looks of the disciples, she herself began to doubt. But though her faith was weak, her love was strong; and she stood at the door of the sepulchre, weeping. At least she will not give up the idea of finding the Lord's body, and carrying out her first intention of embalming it. So she stands at the sepulchre, and looks in. She had looked in many times already; she had every corner of it by heart; but she looks in again. She will see the place where the Lord lay, if she cannot see Himself: and lo! this time she sees a new sight. There are two angels, in white, sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. Angels again! but this time not angels of fear, with a terrible countenance, as the first had been, but angels of comfort and peace. And they spoke to her: "Woman, why weepest thou? Why dost thou seek the living among the dead?" One would have thought it was something to see an angel, and hear his voice: but this good woman makes very little of it. No angel will satisfy her now. "They have taken away my Lord," she replies, "and I know not where they have laid Him." Is not this grief enough to have lost a Lord, a Friend, a Saviour, such as Jesus was, and not even to have so much as His lifeless body left on which to lavish her endearments. O my brethren, no created thing can satisfy the soul. I say not, though we had all the treasures of earth, but though we had all the treasures of heaven; though angels and saints were ours; though we had visions and revelations; yet all would be nothing if we had not God. Heaven would be hell without Him, and at the very gate of Paradise the soul would weep and say, "They have taken away my Lord."
But at this point a new actor appears on the scene. A man approaches, and addresses Magdelene in the same words that the angels had used: "Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?" She takes him for the gardener, and suddenly a suspicion seizing her that he might know something of the treasure she had lost, turned upon him and said: "Sir, if thou hast borne Him away, tell me where thou hast laid Him; and I will take Him away." She does not answer his question. She does not tell him whom she is seeking. For, as St. Bernard observes, "Love imagines everyone is as full of the object of its love as it is itself;" and so she says: "If thou hast borne Him away, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away." No need to mention His Name. All things knew it. The sun publishes it. It is written on the leaves. The wind utters it. It is the Name that is above every name—the Name at which every knee must bow. "Tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will go and carry Him away." What, you! a weak woman! Can you carry away a heavy corpse? Yes, she can; and they that doubt it do not know how strong love is, how great a weight it can carry, what hard things it can do, and how it makes a man do what is above nature, or, rather, how, with faith and grace, it brings out the power that is in these human hearts of ours, and awakens their latent energies.
And now Jesus can restrain Himself no longer; for Jesus it is who now speaks with her. She had charged Him with taking away the Sacred Body, and she was right. He it was who had taken it from the grave. "I have power to lay it down," said He, "and I have power to take it up again. [Footnote 112]
[Footnote 112: St. John x. 18.]
Yes, it was Jesus. He had seen her tears, listened to her complaint, watched her efforts, and now the time had come when He would disclose Himself to her. He said to her: "Mary!" Oh! what voice is that? What sweet and tender memories it wakes up! The home of Bethany, the banqueting-hall of Simon, Mount Calvary, all are brought before her. She turns and looks keenly at the speaker, and one look is enough. It is He, the same—the very same who spoke pardon and peace to her soul, when first, a guilty woman, she had washed His feet with her tears. It is Jesus. He lives again. And, with her accustomed salutation, she kneels before Him, and says: "Rabboni!" which is to say, Master!
How much is expressed in this brief interview. "Mary!" It is a word of gentle reproach. Mary, dost thou not remember My words—My promise—that I would rise again? Mary,—dost thou not believe My angels, bearing testimony to My Resurrection? Mary, whose brother Lazarus I have raised from the grave, dost thou not think that I am as powerful to rise from the dead as to restore life to others? "Mary!" It is a term of affection. As much as to say: I am risen; but I am still thy friend. I do not forget the past, and now, on this glorious morning of My Resurrection, I tell thee that I know thee by thy name, and love thee with the same love with which I loved thee in the days of My sorrow'. And, "Master!" is her fitting reply. "Master of my heart, whom only I have loved!" "Master of my faith, whom now' I acknowledge as indeed risen from the dead!" "Master, whose Truth and Power I have been so slow to understand!" "Master, whom all my future life shall honor and obey!" O happy Magdalene! Her search is ended. Her tears are dried. O joy beyond all thought! She has seen Him, and talked with Him!