Andrew responded, addressing the brothers and sisters, "Say
what you will about the things she has said, but I do not believe that the
S[a]vior said these things, f[or] indeed these teachings are strange
ideas."
Peter responded, bringing up similar concerns. He questioned them about the Savior: "Did he, then, speak with a woman in private without our knowing about it? Are we to turn around and listen to her? Did he choose her over us?"
Then [M]ary wept and said to Peter, "My brother Peter, what are you imagining? Do you think that I have thought up these things by myself in my heart or that I am telling lies about the Savior?"
Levi answered, speaking to Peter, "Peter, you have always been a wrathful person. Now I see you contending against the woman like the Adversaries. For if the Savior made her worthy, who are you then for your part to reject her? Assuredly the Savior's knowledge of her is completely reliable. That is why he loved her more than us.
"Rather we should be ashamed. We should clothe ourselves with the perfect Human, acquire it for ourselves as he commanded us, and announce the good news, not laying down any other rule or law that differs from what the Savior said."
After [he had said these] things, they started going out [to] teach and to preach.
Peter responded, bringing up similar concerns. He questioned them about the Savior: "Did he, then, speak with a woman in private without our knowing about it? Are we to turn around and listen to her? Did he choose her over us?"
Then [M]ary wept and said to Peter, "My brother Peter, what are you imagining? Do you think that I have thought up these things by myself in my heart or that I am telling lies about the Savior?"
Levi answered, speaking to Peter, "Peter, you have always been a wrathful person. Now I see you contending against the woman like the Adversaries. For if the Savior made her worthy, who are you then for your part to reject her? Assuredly the Savior's knowledge of her is completely reliable. That is why he loved her more than us.
"Rather we should be ashamed. We should clothe ourselves with the perfect Human, acquire it for ourselves as he commanded us, and announce the good news, not laying down any other rule or law that differs from what the Savior said."
After [he had said these] things, they started going out [to] teach and to preach.
So I just celebrated a
birthday last week, and I have question for you… How old you think I
am? Not something you are usually
allowed to ask, right? Most women hate
the onset of age, and we like to pretend we are 29 for decades. But in some
ways I look forward to it. See, I have
spent most of my career in politics and community organizing. My first job was
working in the office for the first Democrat ever elected in a solidly
Republican county in Illinois, and I would sometimes represent him at
events. Then, I transitioned into
community organizing and advocating for just policies – first with health care
reform, then with immigration, and now often with public investment and public
health. I’ve had a career of trying to bring to light issues of injustice for those
who are invisible, to bring more compassion into the spaces where our systems
have failed.
As you can imagine, I’ve
spoken a lot to not entirely friendly audiences, trying to convince them that
hopeful things are possible and necessary. And I’ve done this as a young woman,
with a youngish face – and worse yet - FRECKLES.
(Most people lose their freckles when they leave adolescence, and I
prayed for that moment…but no, not for me.)
So, as a freckled young faced political person, there is a part of me that welcomes this march of age with
the eagerness that maybe some crows feet will add to my authority. Because I’ve
had too many experiences of people patting me on the head, congratulating me for my passion, and sending me on my
way without taking me seriously.
Reading today’s scripture, I
understood the frustration that made Mary Magdalene weep when contradicted by
Peter. This passage sadly echoes the most important and consistent reference to
Mary Magdalene that we have from the traditional New Testament. In every gospel, Mary of Magdalene is
acknowledged as the first at the tomb and the first to witness the
resurrection. In every gospel, Mary
hastens to tell the male disciples, who regard her testimony with disbelief. They are in disbelief both at the events, and
because the interaction was in private,
with a woman.
Somehow, the word of a woman
was not equal to the word of a man. Is
not equal to that of a man. Two thousand
years later, there are still far too many instances of being called
‘passionate’ instead of ‘authoritative.’
Passion, to me, denotes love. The Gospel of Mary mentions passion that has no likeness
and is contrary to nature. Pastor Damien talked about our passion as that which
goes beyond our typical human nature – our passion for our soul mates, our
passion for knowledge, our passion that drives us to have a deeper
understanding of the universe. In these ways, I see passion as the outward
expression of love. Webster’s dictionary defines passion as ‘a strong
and barely controllable emotion.’
But the root of passion originates from
the Latin, ‘pati’, meaning to suffer.
This is where get the Passion of the Christ, relating to the 40 days in the
Wilderness and suffering during his last week. By this etymology, to have
com/passion is to suffer with another
person. To me, this is still an
expression of love. When we suffer, it
is often because we love something dearly. Like a mother watching a child go through
rejection … or the adult child feeling powerless to help their aging parent hold
onto their coordination … or that spouse trying to be supportive to a partner
going through job loss … a passion for good, for change, for advocacy arises
from this place of love.
Is
this not the story of our Mary of Magdala? Was she not there in compassion at
the foot of the cross, standing vigil in her grief at the tomb, and through her
devastation, still there to collect Jesus’ body at the tomb? No one can deny that Mary Magdalene loved
Jesus. And it is through this love, this
passion, that Mary derives her authority.
As
a community organizer, we often talk about the transformative power of personal
stories. In advocating in the public sphere for better policies, no tool is as
important as the personal story. Experts
can be found to support all points of view.
Data can be manipulated and twisted.
Only your personal story cannot be disputed. When you’ve overturned every stone,
investigated every option for health insurance, bent over backward for coverage
and still you remain uninsured because of something in your health history,
(for example), your witness is more powerful than any report… It is truth. No one can claim more authority over your
personal experience than you.
These stories are key in community organizing…but
I’ve also seen them be transformative for women when those women realize, for
the first time, that their personal story matters. That their personal story gives them
authority. That their personal story can
make change. While the
historic church and society has long denied women authority in institutions of power, female authority
is clear when it arises from a place of love, and never more so than when it
relates to the arenas that have been typically relegated as ‘women’s work’: ...with
children, with family, as caretakers, and for ourselves. History shows us that women who, motivated by
love, build on that authority of caring and compassion often move mountains and
impact wider populations through their personal story.
I
am reminded of Representative Jan Schakowsky, an Illinois Congressperson I have
the privilege to know who is one of the liberal lions in DC. Jan began her public life in 1969 when, as a
housewife with 2 young kids, she was worried about buying a rancid package of
pepper steak. She asked the butcher
about the age of the steak, but the butcher didn’t take her seriously. He said
if she had a problem with it, she could shop somewhere else. One week later,
she heard another mother complaining about the same thing. They joined forces to
fight the grocery store, and through smarts, determination, and chutzpah, their
public campaign was the reason we have expiration dates on our meat today.
I’m
reminded of Alice Tregay, a late civil rights activist in Chicago, one of the
thousands of nameless advocates that put their lives on the line with Rev. Dr. Martin
Luther King, Jr. My friend Alice, an
African American woman, paired up with another Alice, who was white, and
coordinated visits to Chicago real estate offices in the 60’s. They documented how each family, similar in
economic status and differing only in race, was shown homes in completely
different neighborhoods. Black Alice and
White Alice used their lived experience to expose illegal red-lining policies
in place all throughout the city of Chicago, responsible for keeping black
families in dilapidated parts of the city and allowing white flight.
And
I’m reminded of Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha, the
scientist who uncovered the lead levels in Flint’s water supply. After over a year of residents’ complaints, state
officials still rejected a September report showing elevated lead levels. So Dr. Mona did some research, and then something
unorthodox. In her words, “we shared [our] results at a press conference, and you
don’t usually share research at press conferences. It’s supposed to be shared
in published medical journals, which now it is. But we had an ethical, moral,
professional responsibility to alert our community about this crisis, this
emergency.” Following this, Dr. Mona was attacked in the press, called “an
unfortunate researcher” and blamed for inciting mass hysteria. But she persevered, and in the end, her
determination halted widespread poisoning.
Regardless
of how often people try to discredit this type of authority, it perseveres because it holds inherent truth
borne of experience and of compassion. If any of these women had quit loving their children, their
neighbors, their race or their communities because someone doubted their
authority, we would be in a very different place. But they have a wonderful example in Mary of
Magdalene, a wealthy woman who was closer to Jesus than any other
disciple. She loved him fiercely, and in
doing so, witnessed something transformative.
She had an encounter with the resurrected Jesus that shook her down to
her soul. She went and testified to that
good news to the Apostles, despite the backlash that could be expected. She
knew her story mattered.
In the Secret Lives of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd writes about a young
white girl who is hiding out with her black Nanny and 3 other African American
women who make honey for a company called ‘Black Madonna’. And even though this dialogue refers to a
different Mary from scripture, she
pulls on the same authority rooted in love:
”When you’re unsure of yourself,” August said, “when you start
pulling back into doubt and small living, she [Mary] is the one inside you saying, ‘Get up from there and live
like the glorious girl you are.’ She’s the power inside you, you understand?”
“And whatever it is that keeps widening your heart, that’s Mary,
too, not only the power inside you but the love. And when you get down to it,
Lily, that’s the only purpose grand enough for a human life. Not just to love –
but to persist in love.”
Thanks to the persistence of Mary of Magdala, the Apostle to the
Apostles, we all have the opportunity to be transformed for a grand purpose.
We all have this core authority to speak from love – male or
female or neither, child or adult or neither, wealthy, poor, minority or
majority. When we speak from a place of
authentic knowledge of those we love, of their lives or their sufferings, that
power cannot be denied. Imagine the impact you might have if you were as
determined as Mary Magdalene to use your authority to testify to ‘the Good’. How
does your story matter? How would our
world be transformed if we all persisted
in love?
I leave you with that passionate question.
Amen.
