Fossilised in reminiscences, or Announced by Brethren

(Jn 20:1-2.11-18)

"In those days, in Israel, the testimony of women could not have official, juridical value, but women experienced a special bond with the Lord, which is fundamental for the concrete life of the Christian community, and this always, in every age, not only at the beginning of the Church's journey" [Pope Benedict, Regina Coeli 9 April 2012].

Mk tells of a young man dressed in white, Mt of an angel, Lk of two men dressed in white, Jn of two angels.

The accounts of the annunciation and the heralds of the resurrection do not fit together according to our way of telling.

In order to avoid a limited view of the victory of Life, it should be understood that we are not celebrating the week of the apparitions of the Risen One, but of his Manifestations [Greek text].

He does not just appear to some - to others he does not (depending on the lottery): he Manifests himself. We experience him.

And there is a new Creation: now one does not recognise Jesus when one sees him, but when one hears him (v.16).

The Lord makes Himself seen not in the moment of vision, but in the time of the Word, of the personal call that makes one "turn" the ancient gaze from the irrelevant direction that clings to the image of "yesterday".

The experience of the living Christ excludes memories to be wept over.

It is current and grounded, convincing, multifaceted and accessible - direct. Definitely better than that offered later by the apostles, without pierced hearts (or proclamations).

But the face-to-face still remained closed, to the extent that one seemed to be looking for deceased or distant museum pieces - to be found almost as before and at best kept without too many shocks.

Conditioned by too 'usual' expectations, we would pretend to trace Jesus to the wrong campsites and places. But in Jn the Ascension is placed on the same day as Easter (v.17).

The very observance of archaic religious law [v.1: in the particular case, the Sabbath] seems to delay the experience of the disruptive power of rebirth, in the Spirit.

Gradually, those primordial personal energies were being reactivated in the early communities that not even the blackmail, intimidation and marginalisation of the institutional apparatus could touch.

The Incarnation was continuing, unfolding in the believers; awakening in them new creative states.

The believers were on the virtuous and exciting wave of a further fundamental change: they now felt themselves to be 'brothers' of the Risen One (v.17).

The relationship of 'discipleship' (Jn 13:13) grown into 'friendship' (Jn 15:15) became that of kinsmen who felt like 'sons'.

[Jn 1:11-12: "He came among his own, and his own received him not. But to those who received him he gave power to become children of God; to those who believe in his Name" - that is, they adhere to his entire word, event and action; even problematic, painful, denunciation].

Thus began the explicit proclamation, despite the fact that the part of the 'church' that was really vital and increasingly determined proved to be the peripheral and from the pagans [in the figure of Mary Magdalene].

It wanted the reviving redemption, and thus pointed the right way to the assembly leaders themselves.

The Judeo-Christian community of the apostles was in fact all out for compromise with the distant and conflicting religious institution, that of power, which had wanted to destroy the Master.

The 'apostolic' hard core always lags behind and needs to be evangelised: only she who feels she is a nothing (vv.2.18) converts him. And when she becomes aware that the reign of dead things will no longer greet her.

Woman: Authentic assembly in the Spirit.

A boundless field of the humiliated, which nevertheless in the Risen Christ "sees itself" and is unblocked; it acquires new breath, overcomes discouragement, disorientation, uncertainty.

Still filled with Infinity, like pilgrims, dreamers from below and from the periphery seek their way.

They activate themselves with passion, to rekindle and resonate every fold of the human being - previously commanded by a world of calculated alternatives.

It is again the experience of "Mary of Magdala", who, by gaining confidence, can complete the perceptions and thoughts of even the top of the class.

The Risen One is always somewhere else... than what the expert or an average religious soul not ready for change expects.

His Person has unforeseen, unconventional and unconventional physiognomies - like life, all to be discovered.

They are unseen profiles - to be grasped and internalised, sometimes almost without struggle.

Only a call by name - his direct Word, the personal Appeal - makes us realise that by external influence we were perhaps chasing a Lord [of the past, or fashionable] too recognisable, to be commemorated as before.

To be carried in our saddlebags as always, with closed and normal love, the child of sorrow.The search for our Rabbuni may also arise from a sense of loss, or from the beatings suffered - but it is marked by Easter encounters and stages of new awareness.

New hearings, which shatter reassurances.

He remains a lukewarm stranger - at room temperature - for those who allow themselves to be influenced by limited (packaged) ideas and pretend to understand him with knowledge, recognise him with their eyes, or use him as a sleeping pill.

The Risen One is radical novelty: wounded within and impetus. A journey that welcomes and takes on the whole of humanity and history.

He acts in us by shattering all security; the very security that still does not let us out of the small circle.

And while labouring in the tension of the ungraspable [which cannot be made one's own] it is in the emotion of perceiving the treasures of atypical and personal intuitions that regenerated life attracts and opens wide, amazes.

It is only in the experience of being reborn by passing it on that the Spirit is unleashed and charged - and the Living One does not remain a stranger or someone of whom one has already had an idea.

"I have sought and seen the Lord!" [v.18: sense of the Greek text].

One does not experience Christ with intimism, nor with reminiscences and trinkets; not even in a cerebral way or by being content to fulfil pious memorial offices on the body.

There is an unprecedented situation.

But who notices? In spite of the neglect they endure, only the soulless - the disregarded.

To internalise and live the message:

What transmutation took place in you and your neighbour when you accepted the Call and the invitation to the Announcement?

How did the Person of Christ make you aware that you are fully wanted: inalienable subject, by Name?

Personal Manifestation: a law we find carved into many pages of the Gospels. But... soft happiness or wave sweeping over everything?

In these weeks our reflection moves, so to speak, in the orbit of the paschal mystery. Today we meet the one who, according to the Gospels, first saw the risen Jesus: Mary Magdalene. The Sabbath rest had recently ended. On the day of the passion, there had been no time to complete the funeral rites; therefore, in that dawn filled with sadness, the women go to Jesus' tomb with perfumed ointments. The first to arrive is her: Mary of Magdala, one of the disciples who had accompanied Jesus all the way from Galilee, putting herself at the service of the nascent Church. Her journey to the tomb mirrors the fidelity of so many women who are devoted for years to the paths of cemeteries, in memory of someone who is no longer there. The most authentic bonds are not broken even by death: there are those who continue to love, even if the loved one is gone forever.

The Gospel (cf. Jn 20:1-2, 11-18) describes Mary Magdalene by making it immediately clear that she was not a woman of easy enthusiasm. In fact, after the first visit to the tomb, she returns disappointed to the place where the disciples were hiding; she reports that the stone has been moved from the entrance of the tomb, and her first hypothesis is the simplest that can be formulated: someone must have stolen Jesus' body. So the first announcement that Mary brings is not that of the resurrection, but of a theft that unknown persons have perpetrated, while the whole of Jerusalem slept.

Then the gospels tell of a second journey of the Magdalene to Jesus' tomb. She was stubborn! She went, she returned ... because she was not convinced! This time her pace is slow, very heavy. Mary suffers doubly: first of all for the death of Jesus, and then for the inexplicable disappearance of his body.

It is while she is bending over by the tomb, her eyes full of tears, that God surprises her in the most unexpected way. The evangelist John emphasises how persistent her blindness is: she does not notice the presence of two angels questioning her, nor does she become suspicious when she sees the man behind her, whom she thinks is the guardian of the garden. Instead, she discovers the most shocking event in human history when she is finally called by name: "Mary!" (v. 16).

How beautiful it is to think that the first appearance of the Risen One - according to the gospels - happened in such a personal way! That there is someone who knows us, who sees our suffering and disappointment, and is moved by us, and calls us by name. It is a law that we find carved into many pages of the gospel. Around Jesus there are many people who seek God; but the most prodigious reality is that, much earlier, there is first of all God who cares for our lives, who wants to lift them up, and to do this he calls us by name, recognising the personal face of each one. Every man is a story of love that God writes on this earth. Each one of us is a story of God's love. Each one of us God calls by name: he knows us by name, he looks at us, he waits for us, he forgives us, he has patience with us. Is this true or not? Each one of us has this experience.

And Jesus calls her: "Mary!': the revolution of his life, the revolution destined to transform the existence of every man and woman, begins with a name that echoes in the garden of the empty tomb. The Gospels describe to us Mary's happiness: Jesus' resurrection is not a joy given with an eyedropper, but a cascade that invests one's whole life. Christian existence is not woven with soft happiness, but with waves that sweep over everything. Try to think too, right now, with the baggage of disappointments and defeats that each of us carries in our hearts, that there is a God close to us who calls us by name and says: "Get up, stop crying, because I have come to set you free!" This is beautiful.

Jesus is not one who adapts to the world, tolerating that death, sadness, hatred, the moral destruction of people endure in it... Our God is not inert, but our God - allow me the word - is a dreamer: he dreams of the transformation of the world, and he has realised it in the mystery of the Resurrection.

Mary would like to embrace her Lord, but He is now oriented to the heavenly Father, while she is sent to take the proclamation to her brothers and sisters. And so that woman, who before meeting Jesus was at the mercy of the Evil One (cf. Lk 8:2), has now become an apostle of the new and greater hope. May her intercession help us to live this experience too: in the hour of weeping, and in the hour of abandonment, listen to the Risen Jesus who calls us by name, and with a heart full of joy go and proclaim: "I have seen the Lord!" (v. 18). I have changed my life because I have seen the Lord! I am now different from before, I am a different person. I have changed because I have seen the Lord. This is our strength and this is our hope.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 17 May 2017]