It’s well-known among Christian circles that she was a prostitute, and in the end a reformed prostitute. She’s the epitome of a resistant woman, one who likely did not come to the Lord easily.
Throughout the gospels we see those who are sick and lame literally reaching out their arms to Jesus for healing. These people sought out Jesus. They were incredibly faithful, never doubting the Lord’s healing power, and were rewarded for such faith.
At the start of Jesus’ ministry he didn’t just heal the sick, he cast out demons. And the New Testament shows a starch contrast in how these people came to Jesus.
They didn’t reach out to him in loving faith like the ill. They were pushed and prodded towards Jesus by family or friends. Loved ones who saw someone they deeply cared about fall away spent time and energy fighting the demon’s resistance in their beloved friend, daughter, brother, lover, and brought them to Jesus for healing. These people wouldn’t have come to Jesus on their own! Demons don’t want to be cast out, they don’t want the body healed, they want to be as far away from the Son as possible.
So what about Mary? She was a prostitute with seven demons. The Bible makes no mention of friends or family pleading on her behalf. And one could guess from her circumstances that she had none. Mary didn’t find Jesus, she couldn’t have. She was running in the complete opposite direction. But that’s the beauty of salvation, we don’t find Jesus, He finds us (she’s quite the encouraging story for those of us with resistant, seemingly impossible loved ones).
Jesus found Mary and cast out her demons, and took her in to be a follower of Christ. He forgave her for her sins and restored her worth. Mary went from feeling dirty, and lost, and unlovable, to clean, and worthy, and loved. He radically changed her life. So like the fishermen, Mary cast her fishnets aside and followed Him.
Mary was no doubt in that first love phase we all have when we first accept the gospel. She was made new, life was good, joy abounded! But Mary’s celebration was short-lived.
Before she knew it, her Savior was hanging on a cross, dying. The man who radically turned her life upside-down, forgiving her for her sins, was dying.
What must it have been like for Mary watching her Savior die on the cross? What must that have been like to finally feel love and then watch that love be destroyed before your very eyes? What was Mary feeling in that moment? Did she feel lied to? Abandoned? Was she ready to give up? Out of bitterness and anger did she think about returning to prostitution now that Jesus was gone? She knew Jesus said he would return from the dead, but as he breathed his last breath, did she question whether he could really be raised from the dead?
Psychologically speaking, and coming from my own sin-tempted experiences, I wouldn’t doubt whether these unbelieving thoughts came to her mind, if only for a fleeting moment. Even for those of us who have been saved, sinful, selfish, hopeless thoughts come to mind sometimes. The difference is, we know that we have an escape from temptation, and know to flee from these thoughts (1 Corinthians 10:13).
The Bible tells us Mary didn’t act on these sinful desires. Praise God! This proves just how transformed her life was. Drowning out her pain would have been an easier way to cope, at least temporarily. But she resisted, she faced the pain head on. Mary spent the next day, Saturday, preparing perfumes as a memorial to the Lord.
No one ever talks about Saturday. There’s Good Friday and Easter Sunday, and as Christians we celebrate both. Friday is a paradoxical day. Tragic in that Jesus was brutally killed, beautiful that He did so for the world. It’s heartbreaking that our sin held him there on the cross, and redeeming that He still wants to pay for the very sin that led him to his death. And by Sunday, He is raised! Celebration abounds. Jesus Messiah, Lord of all, has returned! But what about that 24-hour space between?
I think we’re ashamed of Saturday, so we don’t talk about it.
And the best way to explain this is to look at Saturday from Mary Magdalene’s standpoint, because let’s be honest, we’re not all that different from a reformed prostitute (no matter how much pride tells us otherwise).
If you’ve ever lost a loved one, or undergone any immense loss in your life, you can probably imagine what Saturday was like for Mary. Chances are she didn’t sleep, or eat. She probably cried so hard her eyes hurt. Saturday was a day of darkness, a day of waiting.
Mary KNEW Jesus was supposed to come back the next day, and she was pretty sure she believed him… but he hadn’t come back yet. Saturday was a dark and scary day; it’s the day we have to confront our doubts head on. Do we really believe? Will He really come back tomorrow?
We have to pay attention to Saturday. We have to stand together on Saturday, because it’s the day we doubt. It’s the day we’re too heartbroken to eat or sleep. It’s the day no one wants to talk about because none of us want to admit that there are times in our lives that we re-live Saturday over and over again. We’ve heard the truth, and we know Jesus is coming back, but right now it just doesn’t feel like that’s the case.
Saturday is the day we need each other. The beauty of the gospel is that God not only gave us His Son, He gave us the church, He gave us each other! He gave us a body of loving community and fellowship to be there for one another on the rainy Saturdays to tell our weary friends, “He will rise tomorrow!”
My friends, are you still living in Saturday?
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