Tuesday in the Octave of Easter

Lectionary: 262

Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me,
for I have not yet ascended to the Father.
But go to my brothers and tell them,
‘I am going to my Father and your Father,
to my God and your God.’”
Mary went and announced to the disciples,
“I have seen the Lord,”
and then reported what he had told her.

The novel coronavirus, Covid-19, has occupied the Earth like an invading army, and has imposed a rule upon us, “Do not kiss, hug, hold, cling, or touch one another!” Suffering that restriction, we can imagine the distress and confusion of Mary Magdalene when the Risen Lord said, “Stop holding on to me.”

But his purpose was never to rebuke. Rather, it was to set her free to go to the brothers and sisters with his message, “I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

More important than clinging to him, she had work to do! She would be the first missionary to announce his resurrection. By letting him go she also sends him on his way to the Father; for that is what we do whenever we celebrate the Mass. We offer the oblation to God which God has given to us.

I think of an oblation like a rubber ball which a man gives to his son. The boy might be fascinated by its size, shape, and texture. He might be overpowered by his ownership of the precious object. But the father immediately says, “Now throw it back to me!” What is a ball for but to toss back and forth? And so, the parent teaches his son to share and share alike, that every gift belongs to both giver and receiver. It is a bond between them and must be treasured. 

Jesus, our sacred oblation, is God’s gift to us and our most prized gift to God. Although we crucified him in our blind, wicked stupidity he has made our crime a blessing. Humiliated with our shame, but forgiven and humble, we accept the gift.

Mary Magdalene, having given Jesus to the Father, must now give him to her companions. Their knowledge of the Lord has been traumatized by the horror of crucifixion. Early on this first day of the week, the city which reveled in an orgy of human sacrifice and celebrated a Passover, now returns to its mundane preoccupations. It knows nothing of his resurrection but will soon be obsessed with strange rumors.

Her friends may be troubled by their own complicity in his death. Despite their following him to Jerusalem, despite their loyal discipleship, despite their pledges of fidelity during the festal meal, they were nowhere to be found after he was arrested. They knew he was dead only by what others told them.

The Magdalene’s effusive joy will dismiss all that. He’s alive; he is beautiful; he is glad; he has sent me to tell you! Come, share your master’s joy!