1. Her name is probably derived from the town of Magdala or Magadan, now Medjdel, which is said to mean “a tower.” It was situated at a short distance from Tiberias, and is mentioned in connexion with the miracle of the seven loaves. An ancient watch-tower still marks the site.
Almost all we know of her early life is told us in a single sentence of St. Luke's Gospel. It was the custom of devout Jewish women to accompany the Rabbi under whose teaching they had been blessed, and to minister to his wants. And so St. Luke tells us, “The twelve were with him, and certain women which had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary that was called Magdalene, from whom seven devils had gone out, and Joanna the wife of Chuza Herod's steward, and Susanna, and many others, which ministered unto them of their substance.”
It must have often occurred to thoughtful readers of the Gospels to ask how Christ and His disciples were supported during those three years, seeing that they had all given up their ordinary employment. Christ declared when sending forth His missionaries that the labourer was worthy of his hire, and told them to trust to the hospitality of the people; and this they no doubt did. But practically it is not a satisfactory thing to be always thus dependent. There were times and places in which both Christ and His disciples were unpopular, and it became necessary, as well as advisable, to be independent. That they were in the habit of receiving money for this purpose is evident both from the fact that the community had a treasurer, and that we are told of the disciples, when passing through Samaria, going “into the city to buy food.” Where did they get the money? The freewill offerings of people benefited may have done something in this direction, but looked at practically, thirteen men, in a country like Palestine, could hardly be wholly supported in that way. Besides, we have no hint that such freewill offerings were either asked or given. The true answer to the question of their support is that these women, who were evidently in some cases women of means, “ministered unto them of their substance.” This indeed is given as the explanation of their presence among the disciples.
When we come to think of it, how natural it was that Jesus Christ by His character should win the devotion of the women of the world. There is something in perfect strength, and yet perfect gentleness, which appeals to the best part of woman's nature; and it is one of those things which make it so peculiarly damnable, when a man avails himself of the best side of a woman's nature to lure her to her ruin, that it is the best side which the strength of a man or what she thinks is mingled strength and gentleness really calls out. And therefore when there is working in the world perfect strength and perfect gentleness, can we wonder that that incarnation of it won the heart of woman?1 [Note: A. F. W. Ingram, Addresses during Holy Week, 35.]
2. We have seen that in the first mention of Mary Magdalene's name she is spoken of as one “from whom seven devils (or demons) had gone out” (Luk_8:2). And without giving any mystical interpretation to the “seven,” it evidently implies a possession of peculiar malignancy (cf. Luk_11:26). This is not the place in which to enter on a detailed discussion of the meaning of demoniacal possession, but in general it pointed to a wholly abnormal state of life, in which the unhappy victims found themselves under the influence of some evil power that for the time had gained complete mastery over them. And it was clearly from some such miserable state that Mary had been delivered through the direct intervention-so we may safely infer-of Jesus Himself.
Perhaps in some street of Magdala, the city of her youth, He found her, torn with frenzy; and in upon “the wretchedness of despair, the divided consciousness, the long-continued fits of silence” which darkened her life, there broke that calm, clear voice which restored her to sane and happy womanhood and freed her from the terrors of the devil-haunted past. No wonder that she loved Him and with woman's whole-hearted devotion hung about His footsteps in Galilee and “ministered unto him,” content in some poor measure thus to repay her infinite debt!
Across this simple, natural, and most winsome history, tradition has written a legend, very fascinating to morbid and prurient minds, which foully asperses the character of the Magdalene. She has been identified with the woman who was a sinner, who kissed the feet of Jesus and wiped her sudden tears with her hair. The name Magdalene, so dear to the Apostolic band, has thereby become a synonym for a woman of shame. There is not a particle of evidence for this dishonouring identification. The story of the woman who was a sinner can be read in the preceding chapter of the same Gospel, and there is not a hint that she and Mary are one. The root out of which the baseless legend grew is the suggestion that the “seven devils” may be only another expression for the “many sins” in Luke's pathetic incident. But the seven devils no more implied riotous and wanton conduct then than dementia would now. The simple fact that Mary was permitted to join the devout women who followed Jesus, and is found in the companionship of women of unsullied name and of social honour, is sufficient to refute the assertion.
Seven times
The letter that denotes the inward stain,
He on my forehead, with the truthful point
Of his drawn sword inscribed. And, “Look,” he cried,
“When enter'd, that thou wash these scars away.”
We do not know just what Mary Magdalene's seven scars were. But for our learning, Dante's own seven scars are written all over his superb autobiographical book. And Dante's identical scars are inscribed again every returning Fourth Day in Bishop Andrewes's Private Devotions. Solomon has the same scare also: “These six things doth the Lord hate. Yea, seven are an abomination unto Him.” And, again: “When he speaketh fair, believe him not, for there are seven abominations in his heart.” And John Bunyan has the very same number at the end of his Grace Abounding: “I find to this day these seven abominations in my heart.” And then Bunyan is bold enough, and humbleminded enough, to actually name his scars for the comfort and encouragement of his spiritual children.1 [Note: A. Whyte, Bible Characters, 95.]
3. In the company of the other attendant women Mary Magdalene travels up to Jerusalem on that last dread journey, which, Jesus had told them, was to His death. She is of the group of those who stand afar off watching the crucifixion. In every list of these women given by the Synoptic Evangelists her name comes first. It would seem, therefore, that here also Mary Magdalene may have taken the lead among the women. Perhaps it was her devotion that encouraged the others to be present at the execution, though womanly instinct would naturally shrink from the appalling spectacle. A fearful fascination draws her to the fatal spot, and she brings her companions with her. There is nothing to be done. But if their presence were perceived by the Sufferer it would afford that solace of sympathy for which His soul had more than once craved in vain. We cannot quite bring the various accounts into agreement on this point. The Synoptists place the women “afar off”; St. John at the foot of the cross. His mother must have been close at hand when Jesus committed her to the charge of the beloved disciple. We shall never be able to settle some of these minor details. But of course it is quite possible that both accounts are correct: that the women were first at a distance, and then, as the darkness gathered and the agony grew more intense, crept up closer till they actually found themselves among the soldiers near the foot of the cross.
Mary remains in the dusk of the evening watching what she must have looked on as the final resting-place of the Prophet and Teacher whom she had honoured. Not to her had there been given the hope of the resurrection. The disciples to whom the words that spoke of it had been addressed had failed to understand them, and were not likely to have reported them to her. The Sabbath that followed brought an enforced rest, but no sooner is the sunset over than she, with Salome and Mary, the mother of James, “bought sweet spices, that they might come and anoint” the body, the interment of which, on the night of the crucifixion, they looked on as hasty and provisional.
4. Next day, being the first day of the week, they set out on their errand to the grave, in the dawn. Two of the Evangelists use the phrase, “very early in the morning.” “Very early in the morning,” St. John says, “when it was yet dark.” St. Mark says, “After the sun had risen.” Perhaps the first phrase points to the time when they left their lodging, the second to the time when they reached the tomb. Other solutions of the difficulty have been suggested. It might not have been too dark to distinguish objects; the fresh, faint flame of the morning might be already beginning to tinge the gloom; and both writers, each in his own way, aimed only at expressing the general idea that it was about the time of daybreak.
According to the most probable explanation of the Evangelical narratives, Mary Magdalene arrived at the sepulchre alone and first of all. St. John describes her as coming alone to the sepulchre, finding it empty, and then going to fetch St. Peter and himself; whereas the other three Evangelists speak of a group of women, of whom Mary Magdalene was one,-St. Matthew names two, St. Mark three,-as visiting the sepulchre, finding it empty, conversing with the angels who guarded it, and then going away to inform the disciples. Now the best way of accounting for this divergence is to make what in the circumstances and with the persons concerned would be a very natural assumption. We may assume, without doing violence to the text of the Gospels, that this entire company of women, of whom Mary Magdalene was one, set out together from the city before daybreak to visit the tomb of Jesus, which was outside the walls; but that Mary Magdalene, under the impulse of her strong and tender love, gradually moved away from the rest, and hastened on before them. Just as an hour or two later, on that same morning, St. Peter and St. John ran together to the sepulchre, but “the other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the sepulchre,” so there is reason to think it had been with Mary Magdalene. Her more ardent love was impatient of the measured pace of others, who indeed loved Jesus well, but assuredly loved Him less than she.
It is not easy to determine the exact order of the events that followed; but apparently Mary, on finding the tomb empty, at once ran and summoned Peter and John, returning along with them. And then, after they had left-the other women having previously departed-she herself remained “standing without at the tomb weeping” (Joh_20:11). She could not tear herself away from the spot. Not that she believed that Jesus had actually risen and would appear to her; she only longed to know whither His body had been taken.
The first answer to her longing came in a wholly unexpected manner. As she “looked”-and the word in the original points to fixed, silent contemplation-“into the tomb,” she saw “two angels in white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.” And in answer to their question why she wept, she replied in words in which all her love and anxiety found expression: “Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him.” It never occurred to Mary apparently to address any inquiry to the angels; but, satisfied now that the tomb was indeed empty, and, unwilling to continue a conversation which served only to revive her grief, “she turned herself back.” And in the very act of doing so, she beheld “Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus.” Her eyes, like the eyes of the disciples afterwards on the Emmaus road, were still holden. Not yet was she prepared for the full vision of her glorified Lord.
5. We cannot tell why Mary did not at once see that it was Jesus who was speaking to her. And yet her want of perception is not so very mysterious. She was not in the mood to notice anybody through the veil of her tears. When the soul is absorbed with its own internal feeling of sorrow, the faculties of observation are not very keen. And Jesus alive was the very last person Mary expected to see when she was engaged in the search for His dead body. She took the Speaker for the gardener, the most likely person to be found in this private enclosure so early in the day. When Jesus was crucified He was stripped of His clothes, the Romans allowing no clothing to the victim of the cross except the loin-cloth-the subligaculum. But this was all that labourers wore at their work in the hot climate of Palestine. If Jesus had appeared just as He would have been after leaving the burial bandages behind in the tomb, He would have looked like a man prepared for his work. But this was very different from His appearance with tunic and cloak as Mary had been accustomed to see Him in the old days. It was quite natural, therefore, that in her present distracted condition of mind Mary should take Him for the gardener, whom in outward appearance He resembled.
“Sir,” she said, “if thou hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I”-as if no thought of her woman's weakness could hinder the resolution-“will take him away.” It is not unnatural to suppose that at this point there was a pause. “Mary,” says Dr. Westcott, “received no answer, and fell back to her former attitude of mourning. Simple human love had, as it seemed, done its uttermost and done its uttermost in vain.” But the moment of her greatest need was the moment also of her highest help. “Jesus saith unto her, Mary.” It was but a single word, but it was enough. The personal address, the familiar tones, dispelled every doubt. And at once she turned to the Lord with the simple confession of her new-found faith: “Rabboni; which is to say, Master.”
It seems as if she had reached forward to hold Him by the feet, for He said, “Touch me not.” He held her back as He did not hold back the others, of whom it is said a little later, “They came and took hold of his feet and worshipped him.” He held her back because to touch His feet was not the need of her soul. How else can we explain the difference between this and that which happened later to the others? He held her back that she might be deepened. He pointed her on to that spiritual communion which in the future was to be hers. “Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended”-implying the unseen communion which was to be hers when He should have ascended to the Father. And He gives her an immediate work to do for Him. “Go unto my brethren, and say to them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and my God and your God.”
She went and told the disciples that she had seen the Lord, and with that her story ends. Now what are we to learn from this brief biography?
