I am with Mary of Magdala. She is running pell-mel through the garden.
Her face is absolutely beyond all description. There is upon her face the
full spectrum of human emotions, but also an inner radiance, which truly
sets her eyes afire. In all my interior visions, Mary of Magdala has been
shown to me to be an extraordinarily beautiful woman. But since her
conversion, her beauty has intensified. Now, having seen her beloved
Master risen, having been so close to Him and realizing profoundly in her
soul the full Truth of all His Words, this inner beauty ignites. Faith and
Trust fuel her love. It spills out. She wants to shout from the rooftops.
She wants everyone to know and share in her joyful love.
But Mary is obedient. Her Master has commissioned her to carry the news
to His Apostles. And she is headed straight for the house of the Last
Supper. The other Marys have been left far behind. They do not appear to
be anywhere in sight, and the Magdalene does not think of them at present.
The city is stirring to life now, as dawn has filled the whole eastern
sky. Many curious eyes look after the flying figure of a woman dashing up
one street and down another. They question in their minds, most just shake
their heads, and go about their normal daily routine. But several
recognize her as she passes, for she has not bothered to keep her veil
tightly about her face as she runs, and I hear, "It is her, Lazarus'
sister." "What can she be in such a hurry for?" "Could be trouble. She
was on of His followers. Now that He's gone, there won't be any more
trouble between the Temple and Pilate.
Mary, breathless, reaches the house of the Last Supper. Breathing hard,
she pauses only for a moment to catch her breath and then knocks. It is
not a timid knock as all have been want to do since the Passion of Our Dear
Lord. Her knock says clearly that it is urgent she gain entrance, and so
eager is she that she repeats the knock at once.
The door squeaks open an inch or two, no more. Angled as I am to Mary's
side I see the two piercing eyes of a worried, frightened Peter inside. He
sees the woman and is about to open the door a little wider to admit her,
but Mary is not about to wait for him. She pushes against the door,
surprising Peter, and the door swings fully open and daylight streams into
the darkened house where all the shutters remain tightly drawn, save the
room where the Blessed Mother prays and gives praise to the Trinity.
"Mary, what has happened?" Peter is truly alarmed. With one hand he
grasps the door and bangs it shut, immediately casting them into a
semi-gloom, while with the other he grabs Mary's arm with great strength
born of his human fear.
"I have been out!" Mary gasps, looking squarely at Peter. "I have been
to the garden where His body was laid."
The news shocks Peter, who lets go of her arm. Now he is thoroughly
convinced that the Sanhedrin or Pilate's troops have caused either Mary's
Mary rushes up the narrow stairs, headed for the room where the other
Apostles are gathered. Peter pulls himself together and enters the room
right behind her.
The sight of Lazarus' sister causes the Apostles to come to their feet.
Most had been asleep. Some sat dozing, trying to pray. But they find
Lazarus' sister in the very center of the room, and not one misses the fact
that she is absolutely glowing, her whole being animated with renewed life.
They do not speak, but watch her as, carefully. Mary turns slowly a full
360 degrees to let her eyes see each Apostle.
"I was there," she begins.
"She went to the tomb," Peter gruffly interjects. "We'll have trouble now
from the guards stationed there."
"No! You don't understand. I have not come to tell you of trouble."
"What have you come to say then?" asks John in a mild voice, almost with a
dream-like quality. He, of all the Apostles gathered here, is the only one
who is truly at peace. He is not fearful as the others are of being
discovered by either Roman soldiers or Sanhedrin guards.