Who was Mary Magdalene? What most people know about her comes from the four canonical Gospels. What those accounts do not say is as telling as what they do. Nowhere in the Gospels is Magdalene labeled as a prostitute. This seems to originate much later, in a sermon given by Pope Gregory I in 591. Mark, Matthew, and Luke, all list her as a witness and supporter of Jesus’ ministry.
In much the same way that the gospels represent a developing conceptual take of the wider implications of the teachings of Jesus, culminating in the proclamation of him as divine in the Book of John, the story of Mary Magdalene develops over time from a case of her watching the crucifixion from afar and later finding the tomb open and empty, to her meeting the risen Christ in a garden, mistaking him for the gardener, and going on to proclaim, “I have seen the Lord!”
If Mary Magdalene was merely a hanger-on, why would she be in the position of first encountering the risen Christ? Was it because she alone had the spiritual understanding to receive such a miracle, or simply because she had the guts to stick around? In the 4th Century, St. Augustine did name her an apostola, or female apostle, because of this critical role she played.
The first gospel, Mark, written between 65–70 A.D., already places Magdalene in a very important position in the story of the crucifixion and resurrection. She, along with a group of women—the apostles for the most part having legged it out of there—watch Jesus being put to death and track where the body is taken.
On Sunday morning, she and Mary, the mother of apostle James the younger, and Salome, the mother of apostles James and John go to the tomb to anoint the body, only to find the stone rolled away and a strange younger man dressed in a white robe that tells them that Jesus is not there but has gone on ahead to Galilee where they would see him.
Originally, the women were understandably freaked out and didn’t tell anyone what they saw. This was later amended, adding in the detail of Mary going to tell the apostles, but they don’t believe her. Here she is introduced as Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons, which may or may not have affected their tendency to listen to her.
I think that this is a good place to consider the bravery and devotion of the women that stuck around to witness the execution of their teacher and to attend to his body. Growing up, I thought the women remained close as they were not in danger of being crucified themselves. At least four of the apostles ended up meeting the same fate (most of the others eventually being killed in other grisly ways). Historians now contend that the Romans held no compunction about killing anyone, man, woman, or child, that pissed them off, and being a known associate of someone they felt was a threat to the Empire certainly would have fit the bill.
Both of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke—written 75–85 A.D. and 80-90 A.D. respectively—borrow heavily from Mark, but rely on bespoke stories and traditions when it comes to the story of the resurrection. Matthew changes the narrative the most dramatically, having Magdalene and, “the other Mary,” witnessing an earthquake as an angel comes down and opens the empty tomb, sending them to go tell the rest what has happened. The two Marys meet Jesus on the road back to Galilee, once again being the first to see the risen Christ. Tellingly, Matthew does not mention anything about seven demons or prostitution.
Luke, in introducing The Parables of the Sower, names Mary as one of several women “who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases” that were following Jesus and the apostles as they traveled around teaching. Here, Mary is mentioned as one from whom seven demons had come out, and, along with the other women, were helping to support them out of their own means. This is telling, as one has to wonder how many women, at this time and place, had independent means at all, let alone the freedom to go following a group of radicals throughout the countryside.
It is within the Gospel of John that Mary truly earns the title of Apostle to the Apostles. She alone discovers the empty tomb and runs off to tell the others. After the group returns and sees that Jesus was really gone, they take off, leaving Mary crying at the tomb. Distraught, she looks over and sees two angels just chillin’ where the body had been laid. Almost as if angels had a sense of humor, they ask her why she was crying. It’s the perfect set up, for as she turns around, she sees the risen Christ, although doesn’t make the connection right away. Picking up on the bit, Jesus also asks her why she was crying. When he calls her by name, it all finally clicks. As Jesus sends her to go tell the others what she has seen, a new religion is born.
A fragmentary Gospel According to Mary, written in the second century, and discovered in the late 19th, calls the woman who followed Jesus as Mary of Magdala, seemingly putting the conflation controversy that she and Mary of Bethany were the same person to rest. Granted, they seemed to be short on given names back in the day. It’s almost like going to a Portuguese Festa and calling out Frank or Manuel; you would get a confusing amount of answers, but to conflate any of them is a mistake.
The Gospel According to Mary differs from the canonical stories by naming her as an important apostle in her own right, one that received secret teachings from Jesus. These claims put her in conflict with Andrew and Peter who doubt the veracity of her ideas and the fact that a woman was claiming to have a special connection with Jesus. Peter asks the other apostles, “Did He really speak privately with a woman and not openly to us? Are we to turn about and all listen to her? Did He prefer her to us?”
Levi—or Matthew as he is called after leaving his job as a tax collector—comes to her defense, saying, “Peter, Peter you have always been hot tempered. Now I see you contending against the woman like the adversaries. But if the Savior made her worthy, who are you indeed to reject her? Surely the Savior knows her very well. That is why He loved her more than us.”
Perhaps it was just a matter of who stuck around.
