Places to go, people to meet
May 23, 2012Consortium short shrifts Louisiana
May 23, 2012The 50-day Easter season ends this coming Sunday with the Feast of Pentecost. I would like to share a Resurrection reflection written by Juanita Austin from Mary Magdalen’s point of view.
“My name is Mary. On that first Easter morning, death and life struggled to own me. Death was nearly welcome, for I had nothing to live for. The one who had changed my life, who had given me life, had lost his, through no fault of his own. He only sought to offer people new life, but they feared the price.
“Oh, I know about the fear. I feared too. Jesus said I could change. He said God loved me just as I was, and wanted to offer me abundant life. He said, ‘You only have to let the demons go.’
“‘Demons!’ Yes, I’m that Mary. There has been much speculation about those demons, most of it a reflection of the demon in the speculator’s own heart. Truth is, the most powerful and insistent demon was the one who constantly told me that I was worthless, unworthy of anyone’s love – especially God’s love.
“‘You must let go of that lie,’ Jesus told me. How difficult that was. How I struggled against it. For if I were not worthless and unlovable, then I was worthy and capable, responsible and powerful. What a risk it is to believe such truths. As I began to believe it, I began to live it.
“However, the demon of deception is powerful. If you are worthy, it will tell you that you are worthless. If you are self-righteous and do not want to confront the truth, it will reinforce your blindness and find you a scapegoat.
“Such was the case for Jesus. He was the perfect scapegoat. If they killed him, they would not have to be tormented by his insistence that they look at themselves, that they free themselves from the demons that possessed them. Kill him they did, in a most shameful and cowardly way. With him dead, they knew we, his followers, would have no power. They were right – almost.
“As dawn broke on that third day, I went to the place where they buried him. ‘They desecrated the tomb,’ I thought. I ran to find Peter and John. They came and then, wrapped in their own grief, returned to share the devastating news with the others.
“I stayed in the garden. I stayed there and wept with my memory of Jesus. I did not count on my memory going so far, so deep. The cold, insistent voice crept back into my head. ‘You are worthless. You did nothing to save him. It should have been you hanging on that cross.’
“Then the word broke through to me, that death-defying word, ‘Mary.’ I thought I would burst with the joy. It was he, my friend, my savior, my beloved, my guide, my hope.
“He did not stay. Yet he moved into my soul, sweeping it clean of the dark voices that threatened me. He made me an apostle, a transmitter of good news. I was a source of strength to that little band of followers, and we carried his message in our words and actions.
“You, my friends, must carry them too. Do not be afraid of the voices that try to silence you. Do not heed the voice that says, ‘Only the experts should talk about religion.’ Religion means ‘way of life,’ and it is your right and responsibility to share Christ’s message of healing and abundant life and love. Believe it. Move from memory to hope. As you believe it, so you will live it. Christ is risen!”
Let us take Mary’s advise and spread the Good News that Jesus is alive.
