John 20:10-23 "They Have Taken My Lord Away..."

Garden tomb, Jerusalem. Photo credit: Guy Davis

Mary Magdalene stands at Jesus' empty tomb, convinced that someone has taken Jesus' body away. If so, the reason why can not be good. Understandably, Mary is enraged. Wasn't it enough that they kill him? Do they have to defile his body as well? When will this nightmare be over? Mary is so shocked and furious that she does not recognize the two angels at the tomb, or even Jesus himself. She can't see past the trauma. "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." Not until Jesus calls her by name does a new possibility emerge: maybe he really is alive!

It's honestly hard to put myself in Mary's place. Thankfully, I have never been put through a trauma nearly as severe as watching my best friend be tortured to death unjustly. It is hard to imagine the sense of violation that even having lost the dignity of burial--losing the one last bit of control, of honor you have the power to provide--would bring. For someone in a situation like that, a calm, rational approach will not do. To diminish the lived experience of people who are hurting, and question it, asking "Woman, why are you weeping?" will not do.  Asking them to "calm down", assuming that whatever they're going through, it can't be as bad as what they say, simply because we ourselves can't relate, is wrong.
Some pain can only be understood by God. It is only the One who hung on the cross who can call Mary's name, and meet her where she is. Our task, for the Mary's in our lives, is to listen and believe their stories.
Lord, many in our world feel as though you have been taken away from them, and laid where they can't find you. Call them by name. When we, too, are blinded by shock and rage, call us. Amen.