Reality is not always at it seems.
For the past few months, I have continued to return to the image of Mary Magdalene waiting outside the tomb on Easter morning. The most awful thing has happened but so has the most wonderful thing. Christ has been crucified, but He has also gloriously resurrected, conquering sin and death. The world has been radically changed, altered from simply a fallen state into a place where redemption and abundant graces can be received.
Yet Mary Magdalene doesn’t know about this profound change.
She weeps outside the tomb, longing for her Lord to be present to her. Faithfully she followed the Lord throughout His ministry and to the very foot of the cross. He will choose her to be the first witness of His Resurrection and become the apostle to the Apostles.
Yet in this particular moment, outside a tomb where the God-man was laid to rest, she does not see the joy or the glory for she is cloaked entirely in sorrow. She aches, she mourns, she pines, she weeps. Reality is completely different than she thinks and yet, for her, this wonderful reality is not her present experience.
This collision of joy and sorrow has captured my attention for the last few months. The sorrow gives way to exuberant joy, but the sorrow is still intensely felt in its moment. Pondering the way this unfolded made me wonder why the Lord allowed Mary Magdalene to experience this delayed joy. He speaks to her, blinded from being truly seen, as the gardener while asking why she weeps and for what does she seek. As God, He certainly already knew what she desired and understood what she thought was reality. In a quick moment, He could have rushed in, changed her perception, and reassured her of the good news of His Resurrection.
Why doesn’t He? Why is there this delay? Why is any part of her suffering prolonged at all when such marvelous joy could be had in that moment?
Unable to solidly answer any of these questions, I have found instead a companion for when it seems suffering is prolonged, joy is delayed, and the truth of reality impossible to be fully known. Without clear answers, I experience solace in trusting that current circumstances and experiences do not necessarily dictate reality. When St. Paul says, “We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose,” (Romans 8:28) I can believe that God is working a good I cannot see. When it seems that God cannot fulfill His promises or that deep-seated desires will be left wanting, I can remember that there is more to the picture than meets the eye. Like Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb, I can be in a place which feels incredibly painful and yet also be in a place which is truly filled with boundless joy. Both can be true at the same time, even if I do not have the perspective to see each.
During the time that I have been pondering this particular instance in Scripture, I have found several times to share this with others. It seems to be helpful for some, yet each time I share, I am reminded how good this is for me to bear in mind. Reality is not always what I think, see, or experience. There is much more to the unfolding of God’s plan and God’s sheer goodness than I can hold within my mind or heart. While painful, He must have some reason for delaying my joy or prolonging my sorrow. Perhaps it will not be clearly answered now or this side of eternity, but the Lord is working to bring about good and, in reality, already has worked profoundly. Even when I am blinded from seeing His movements or workings, He is doing so and, in fact, has already done so.
In St. Mary Magdalene, I find a sincere companion in the pilgrimage to Heaven. She knew joy, sorrow, confusion, and freedom. Even as a close friend of Jesus, she did not understand all that transpired. Even as the privileged first witness of His Resurrection, she also experienced the confusion of pain and sorrow. We see her conversing sorrowfully with the Lord and wonder at her inability to see the God-man before her. It is easy to apply it to my own life, asking for eyes to see reality as God sees it and not as it seems to me. How often do we speak with the Lord or encounter His goodness without being able to truly see it as it is?
Like Mary Magdalene, may we continue to seek after the Lord in joy and in sorrow. May we cling to Him even in our confusion. May we trust that God is working to bring joy and fruitfulness into the very places of our hearts and lives where sorrow and sterility seem to reign. May the Lord who holds all things in His hands and who knows His plan in its entirety, grant us the grace to say yes to each small, confusing, blinded step along the way.
May we come to see reality in all its glory, bit by bit, as we journey nearer to the heart of Christ.
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Photo by Veit Hammer on Unsplash
Seeking After His Heart 