Rabboni

Written by Mary Magdalene

A.D 32

In my country, women are not highly thought of. We are the ones who work the hardest. We are the ones who give birth to our husbands' sons. We are not even taught how to read! Then why am I writing this? To preserve a story, my story, about the Son of God, Jesus. I didn't know that Jesus was the Son of God at first, but through his death and resurrection, I came to know him as my teacher.


The shouts of "Arrest him!" pierced the silent night like a sword. It was the first night of Passover, and I could not sleep. So, I crept out of my house into the empty streets for a walk. I drew near the outskirts of the city when I heard those angry shouts and metal armor clanging. They were coming from the base of one of the mountains in Jerusalem, the Mount of Olives.

I was curious. What could be going on at this time of night? I wondered. My ears led me to a frightful scene. Jesus Christ was being led hand-bound and guarded by a whole band of Roman soldiers!

I didn't know what to think. What had he done? Why were they leading him away like a common criminal? I followed them to the High Priest's quarters, next to the temple. I was too fearful to enter, so I stayed outside.

The night was very cold. A fire was lit in the courtyard, where a small group of soldiers and servants huddled. I also joined them, and recognized Peter, one of Jesus' disciples. While I was warming myself, I witnessed something quite discouraging. Peter was disputing with a servant girl, and denied that he knew Jesus three times! I knew he was lying. Why would he ever deny his Master? Then, a cock crowed, signaling dawn. Peter's face fell with sorrow, and after a moment, he bolted up and away.

Soon, Jesus came out and was now led to the Praetorium, Pilate's headquarters. My fear began to grow and gnawed at me constantly. I knew that something was not right. More people joined me until there was a whole mass of Jews following. The sun slowly made its ascent into the sky as I walked.

At Pilate's headquarters, Pilate first questioned those who arrested Jesus, and then Jesus himself. Pilate asked, "Are you the King of the Jews?"

Jesus replied, "You have said so."

After questioning him further, Pilate made an announcement that relieved me for a moment. "There is nothing wrong with this man! But, every year, I release to you one man at Passover. Do you want me to release this King of the Jews?"

The answer of the crowd pierced my heart. "No, Barabbas!" Barabbas was a well-known thief in our marketplace. He didn't deserve to go free.

Pilate asked again, "Then what should I do with this man?"

"Crucify him! Crucify him!" cried the crowd. My heart stopped. No! Not Jesus Christ! He hadn't done anything to deserve to be killed! I began weeping with fear and anger.

What was even more heart-wrenching was the sight of Jesus. He was whipped severely, mocked by the soldiers, beat up, and humiliated! He even wore a "crown" of thorns that pierced his skull!

Pilate again tried to release Jesus, but the crowd continued to shout, "Crucify him! Crucify him!" So, Pilate put him in their hands.

Then, everything seemed to be chaos. They placed a heavy, wooden cross on Jesus' back and led him away. It was nearly impossible for him to even get through the swarming crowd, let alone carry the seven-foot cross. Everyone was shouting.

Once, I saw Jesus look at me and say, "Do not cry for me, but cry for yourself." I didn't understand his meaning, but wiped my tears from my eyes.

It was about 9 o' clock when the soldiers led him to Golgotha, a high hill on the north side of Jerusalem. The sun was already high in the sky. Two soldiers laid Jesus on top of the cross, and hammered nails in his hands and feet. Jesus cried out with excruciating pain.

Two criminals were also crucified with Jesus. I found two of my closest friends in the crowd: Mary, Jesus' mother; and Salome. We stayed together like true sisters and watched our beloved Master die.

At noon, the sky turned dark. It seemed even God was angry. It stayed like that for three hours, until Jesus cried out his last words: "It is finished!" Then, he died.

That was the moment a black hole opened in my very soul. I felt utterly lost. Since Jesus had died, whom would I go to for help, for direction, for hope? It felt like nothing in life mattered anymore.

Later in the evening, two men named Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus the Pharisee took Jesus' body and buried it in a tomb. I watched this take place. I couldn't leave! They rolled a large stone in front of the opening to protect the body.

Then, I walked back to my home. I would have stayed longer, but it was already dusk, and night was soon approaching. When I arrived, I knelt by my bed and poured out my heart to El Shaddai.

"Almighty God, why? Why did this man Jesus have to die? He had done nothing to deserve the grueling suffering and torture before he died. He even healed me of my seven evil demons! I followed him because there was something in him that made me feel complete. And now he's gone forever. Lord, why?"

I cried with the sorrow and emptiness inside my heart. I felt completely broken. But then, a word of comfort echoed in my mind that I had heard my beloved teacher say.

"The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And when he is killed, after three days he will rise." I thought, Could my Master rise from the dead? My mind was taken up with thoughts for that night.

The next day, I was busy preparing spices to take to the tomb. After they were all finished, I rested in obedience to the fourth of the ten commandments. I may note that I received word the previous day that there were two Roman guards keeping watch over Jesus' body. A rumor was going around that the disciples would steal his body and say Jesus had risen!

Early on Sunday morning, before the first rays of dawn shone through the sky, I walked to the tomb alone with the spices. I wanted to be close to Jesus' body. I prayed silently that the guards would let me enter.

When I drew near the place, I found something very astonishing. The stone had been rolled away! The two soldiers were lying face down on each side, as if they were asleep.

I was so frightened, I dropped the spices and ran to tell Peter and John. They, in turn, ran back to the tomb and saw that Jesus' body was gone! Someone must have stolen it!

The two turned away with down heartened faces. But my love of Jesus and the pain of my sadness glued me there. I just could not believe that someone would go to the extreme of stealing a dead body from a guarded tomb.

I fell on my knees and wept. A few minutes later, my eyes beheld two men in pure white robes inside the tomb. I was surprised that I had not seen them before. They even asked me, "Woman, why are you crying?"

"Someone has taken away my Lord, and I don't know where to find him," I replied. Then, I sensed a third person near me. I turned and saw another man standing not ten feet away. He asked me the same question.

I thought that he might be the gardener of the property, so I asked him, "Sir, if you have moved his body, then please tell me where you have put him."

He said one word that opened my concealed eyes, "Mary". I instantly recognized his voice. He was almost pleading. "Mary, don't you know who I am?"

"Rabboni!" I cried out with joy. It was Jesus! He had been raised from the dead after all!

He then said, "Don't touch me, Mary (for I drew nearer to him), because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go, tell my disciples and say, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"

I left right away with my heart filled with joy on this resurrection morning.


The others didn't believe me until Jesus himself appeared to them later that evening. The following days were filled with hearing his teachings and talking with him. Forty days after that Sunday morning, I witnessed Jesus' ascending into heaven. I finally realized why he died and rose again: to show that he was God's only Son and to show his unfathomable love to me.