RESSURECTION
Mary of Magdala rushed urgently
Shrouded in the early morning darkness,
Nerves pounding with fear,
Heart and soul burning with scared desire.
Alone, fearful, brave,
Determined to care for the body,
She “came to the tomb”- an open gaping blackness.
Frantically, she alerts Simon Peter
And the other nameless disciple,
Together, they raced to the open tomb,
The empty space, the strewn abandoned clothes.
He was..is… gone!
The reality and mystery were too great,
The men could not take it in,
“They went back home”, they walked away.
Mary stays, “standing outside,
Near the tomb, weeping.”
Then, she stoops, leans, kneels to look inside,
sees Angels who ask: “Woman, why are you weeping?”
Grief splinters and shatters logic,
memory, reality,
Its rawness ruptures and disturbs
her sight, hearing, memory.
She does not recognise the Risen One
who asks: ”Woman, why are you weeping?
Who are you looking for?”
The nameless anonymity is searing.
Then suddenly Resurrection explodes
through the intimacy of her name “Mary!”
All is suffused with light, hope, promise,
Love melts her being..
He is Risen! He is alive!
Oh! The light of delight, the delight of light.
She flings herself at him but
He says “Do not cling.
Go, tell them all everything.
By Sr. Sally Hyland SSGJ
Republished from Saint Joseph’s Advocate Scotland. Originally published in Spring-Summer 2025
