Years ago, when I spent my first “Holy Week Retreat” at the Bishop Molloy Retreat House in Jamaica, Queens, I was especially troubled by the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. Perhaps because my mother had died recently, I even found little consolation in the joy of the Easter Vigil. It had been a long, sorrowful, sleepless week and I fell into a tired, troubled sleep on that Saturday night after reading the Gospel (Jn 20: 1-2, 11-18) that is read on the feast day of St. Mary Magdalene, her experience at the tomb.

    I kept on waking from the same dream. In this dream many of us had fallen into a numb, restless slumber on the floor of the Upper Room. I was one of the women, and I was anxious about getting safely to our Lord’s tomb before daybreak so we could anoint His body. Mary Magdalene kept on waking us during the night but it was still too early.

When I finally woke up in the Retreat House room it was already day and I felt the sadness of being left behind by the others. It was only a dream, but it had felt so real, so urgent. Still half-asleep I imagined Magdalene all alone  ( without me!)  out there in the dark streets of Jerusalem going through an experience like the one described  in the first reading for the Feast:

 “On my bed at night I sought Him whom my heart loves-
  I sought Him but I did not find Him.
 I will rise then and go about the city;
 In the streets and crossings I will seek  Him whom my heart loves.
  I sought Him but I could not find Him. “
                                                                                    ( Song of Songs 3:1-2)

    I imagined her sitting within the dark, empty tomb, weeping hopelessly. In my reverie I share in her grief. It overwhelms me. Outside of the cave, the crimson dawn shines, and a voice asks: “Woman why are you weeping?” Like her, I pour out my bitter grief.  

And then, He calls me by  name. I know that Voice. It is my Beloved, my Rabbouni! It is Easter Sunday! My Lord lives and loves me! I run out and embrace Him with all my might. He hugs me right back, because He loves me so much, before He gently pushes me away and rises to His Father in joy and glory. It is going to be a wonderful day. On that last day of the retreat I would  find relief and hope. Thank you Resurrected Lord!

    Mariam of Magdala, the wonderful disciple, experienced this and so much more. She must have been rejuvenated and re-energized by this sacred experience. Her Beloved tells her, “go to my brothers and tell them.” She is sent to announce to them that Christ is risen. She is sent by Him. That is why she is called the Apostle to the Apostles.

I am so happy that Pope Francis elevated her “memorial” to a “ feast day” in the Church calendar, giving her the same level of celebration as the male apostles. I love and admire her for her courage, her faith, and her wonderful devotion to our Savior. She is such a great example to me. I imagine her in Christ, young, beautiful and strong, a role model that I share with my granddaughters. Her story makes me think of the first two paragraphs of Pope Francis’ apostolic exhortation to the young, CHRISTUS VIVIT:

    1. “Christ is alive! He is our hope, and in a wonderful way He brings youth to our world, and everything He touches becomes young, new, full of life. The very first words, then, that I would like to    say to every young Christian are these: Christ is alive and He wants you to be alive!
    2. “He is in you, He is with you and He never abandons you. However far you may wonder, He is always there, the Risen One. He calls you and He waits for you to return to Him and start over again. When you feel you are growing old out of sorrow, resentment or fear, doubt or failure, He will always be there to restore your strength and your hope.”

Orlando Hernandez