If I call your name, you will respond. In this simple correspondence between you and me, there emerges a sense of self; I am seen by you, and you are seen by me. We bear witness to each other's state of being and becoming, existing in the flux of time and space.
One reason we grieve for the loss of loved ones is the unique and singular part of ourselves that dies with them. In each relationship, we are distinct selves. Each relationship holds a nuanced experience. For example, my kids have one dad but their experience of me is three-fold as if they have three different dads who are the same person. Theodore’s experience of me as his dad isn’t necessarily identical to Henry's or Dorothy’s. Mary Magdalene’s sight is clouded with tears of sorrow for the death of her beloved teacher Jesus. In her relationship with Jesus, she no longer exists because there’s no Jesus to see her. The part of who she is in her relation to Jesus feels lost and gone. In their relationship, her existence feels diminished without his presence. She grieves not only for him but also for the missing aspect of herself that flourished in their connection. Perhaps, Freya Ridings’ song “Lost without you” would express Mary’s feelings (youtu.be/tDPpex1wvOc?si=rSFVcpOblDjfGRKG): You were the only safe haven that I’ve known / Hits me at full speed, feel like I can't breathe / And nobody knows this pain inside me / My world is crumbling, I should never have let you go / I think I'm lost without you / I just feel crushed without you / And I've been strong for so long But Mary’s eyes are cleared as soon as she hears her name, not just from anyone but from her beloved teacher. It’s the one who has shown a new way to live her life through the inner presence of God in which she felt forgiven, embraced, and empowered to change. The gardener near the empty tomb of Jesus is no longer a concerned stranger. She recognizes the unique tone of voice, manner, accent, and rhythm Jesus used to call her. Her safe haven is back. She regains her sense of who she is, the best version of herself as the gardener is transfigured into Jesus whom she knows and loves. Mary’s instant reaction to Jesus is to reach out to him immediately. It shows not only does she feel great joy and happiness in this reunion with Jesus but also recovers the best version of who she is. But here’s the problem. Jesus stops her from holding onto him and says, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not ascended to the Father.” We might wonder if the risen Christ has gotten mean or if his personality has changed. Why so serious, Jesus?! Jesus indeed is serious in his encounter with Mary. Mary and Jesus may seem to be in the same time and the same space but that’s not the case. Mary sees Jesus as the one she has known before the resurrection. She clings to that relationship in the past and therefore to her old self. She is pinning Jesus to the past, heading to the past or good ol’ days that don't exist but only in her fabricated memory. The reality of the resurrection points her in a different direction. It’s not just the future she cannot foresee but again and again to the kingdom of God, that very presence of God dwelling in her that is deathless. Jesus’ desire not to be held onto is then his invitation to Mary that she is called to embody the presence of God. This spiritual and existential work of training and leading the mind by the breath of God entails the process of being continuously resurrected right here and right now. The presence of God constantly and sometimes gradually or radically changes who we can become wisely and skillfully. Now we can visualize Mary clinging to her past and craving to keep the version of herself that she reckons as best in that radical experience of conversion in her initial encounter with Jesus. She remains in the past while Jesus in front of her is not there. Jesus is transformed and transfigured. There’s no longer that Jesus she used to know but the reality of the resurrection that brings her back to the inner presence of God. They are not in the same place at the same time. Mary's initial desire to cling to the past contrasts with the reality of resurrection, which beckons her toward a new spiritual journey. The risen Christ symbolizes a continuous transformation, urging her to embrace the present and the divine presence within. This Sunday ends the season of Lent. We do this every year. Why? Are we just going through the motions because it’s just a built-in program in church? We go through this season to be resurrected here and now. Where do you see the risen Christ today? In the past or the future or right here, right now? To see the risen Christ, look within. Let the presence of the Spirit who is breathing through you change you, transform you, and resurrect you so that you’re no longer stuck in the past or scared for the future but keep yourself going without fear or anxiety but with the peace of the risen Christ. Don’t let any past pain, resentment, or rage hold onto you but say, “Don’t hold on to me, because I am always on my way ascending deeper to the inner presence of God.” Alleluia, Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! |
Paul"...life up your love to that cloud [of unknowing]...let God draw your love up to that cloud...through the help of his grace, to forget every other thing." Archives
January 2025
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