Mary Magdalene, Relics, and the Historicity of Christian Claims

CHRISTIANITY IS A HISTORICAL RELIGION—more so than any other religion, in fact. Christian faith centers on the intersection of supernatural reality and human history: God became a human being at a certain time and place—Jesus of Nazareth—who was killed and rose from the dead. Belief in Jesus, and a relationship with Him, can gain us eternal life. There is no myth here; the central truths of Christianity are stark, simple, and shocking. And make no mistake: Christians must have faith in such doctrines in order to truly be Christians. The first known theologian (and in my opinion the best), St. Paul, put it well in 1 Corinthians, speaking about Jesus’ Resurrection: "If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith" (1 Cor. 15:14, NIV).

It is this very historicity that came to mind when my Mom notified me about a unique opportunity: for a limited time, a relic of Mary Magdalene (purported to be a leg bone) was being displayed at various parishes near our home. I consulted the website describing this "relic tour," and read a fascinating account of the relic’s history.

The story, which you can read by clicking here, spans the centuries from the time of Christ to the present day. It is filled with unexpected twists of fate and chance discoveries; in other words, it is a completely plausible story.



A marker discovered with Mary Magdalene's remains, which reads: "Here rests the body of Mary Magdalene."


A good story, to be sure…but is it true? Reading this account reminded me of another story I’d heard about a famous saint. Legend has it that St. Peter, sneaking away from Rome at night during a particularly nasty period of government persecution, met Jesus on the road. "Lord, where are you going?" Peter asked. "To Rome, to be persecuted," was the master’s reply. Realizing the error of his way (as Peter and the rest of us so often must do!), the first pope turned on his heels and headed back to Rome, where he was eventually martyred.

I was told that this story "comes from tradition," a phrase which, despite years of theological study, I have never learned the precise meaning of. I believe this may mean that the story first appeared in a non-canonical writing (i.e. a piece of writing about Jesus or the apostles that was not accepted by the Church as divinely-inspired). Some non-canonical writings are absolutely crazy—consult The Gospel of Thomas if you need convincing. But others, such as the Didache—a sort of handbook of early Christian teachings—is relatively innocuous in its ideas. Thus, although uninspired, some non-canonical writings may still contain elements of truth or wisdom. Perhaps such a piece provides the source of the Peter story above.

But the question remains: are these stories true? We must recognize two facts. First: we will never know. We cannot travel back in time to verify them. But secondly, and more importantly: our faith does not stand or fall on the truth of these stories. Like the Marian apparitions or the Divine Mercy visions of St. Faustina, they are historical claims above and beyond the revelation we are "required" believe in. Faithful Catholics can receive insight, consolation, and grace from devotion to such things (and often do), but said devotion is not a requirement of Catholic faith.

But these stories teach us something important, whether they are true or not. They remind us that these people were real historical figures who lived actual lives and played actual roles in developing the faith we now share with them. Mary Magdalene went somewhere after the Ascension; who is to say she didn’t board a boat with Lazarus, the man born blind, and Jesus’ aunt Mary? I’m being completely serious. We simply don’t know, but we do know that she did something—and considering that the Gospel of John says that Mary Magdalene was the first to encounter the risen Lord, I am inclined to think that she played a dynamic role in the Church wherever she went. If the "real" story is not what is printed on the website linked to above, I’d bet dollars to donuts it’s just as good—or even better.

Lest anyone fall into the contemporary trap of assuming that the more skeptical answers are the more plausible ones, I will offer this final thought. One of my best friends once told me about the supposed origins of Christianity in India. The story goes that St. "Doubting" Thomas (who, we must assume, grew into a mature and inspiring faith) traveled to India and spread the good news of Jesus to the people there. When I heard this story, I must confess, I wondered in the back of my mind (with the intellectual pride epidemic in our age) whether such a tale could really be true. After all, I wondered, how would a poor Jewish man in Jerusalem make it all the way to India? Knowing next to nothing about St. Thomas, though, I accepted it as a possibility.

It was only tonight that I discovered, while reading up on the history of the early Christian period, that there was a commonly used trade route connecting the Holy Land with India. Given that, the journey of St. Thomas from Jerusalem to India would be entirely plausible—and, given the existence of the story my friend told me, even likely. I stand corrected, humbled, surprised, and happy—a common stance when doing Theology.

Slowly but surely, I am learning that Truth is stranger than fiction.

Faithfully,
Joezilla

Hidden In Plain Sight

Today I woke up early.  Very early.  We’re talking three-hours-of-sleep early.  I had to attend a religious education workshop at a local church, but a driveway full of snow required a slight adjustment of wake-up time.  The early morning shoveling, however, proved quite invigorating, and I enjoyed a busy but generally alert and comfortable day.  The three hours of sleep had not caught up with me…yet.

At midnight I went to adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, which always proves to be a peaceful time of fulfilling fellowship with God.  After about half an hour, though, I was overcome by an overpowering tiredness that put me to sleep like chloroform, the tolerant sort of sleep that doesn’t mind a bent neck or slouching posture.  I was out like a light.

I was awakened by someone else entering the adoration chapel, but only for a moment.  Soon, I was back asleep.  That’s when I had the dream…

I dreamt of a great crowd of people, which I was a part of, walking in a building, maybe a hallway.  We were all walking to various destinations, perhaps a bit hurried.  There was something we weren’t noticing.

I think I woke up at this point, noted the strange something that we’d all missed in my dream, and went back to sleep.  I started dreaming the same sort of dream.

I became gradually aware that each person in this crowd was going about the business of their own day.  But I was acutely aware this time of our utter failure to notice something big and obvious that was almost hanging right by us.  We were walking right by it, oblivious, simply going about our daily routines.  But there was still something there.

I woke up once more.  This time I was well aware of the riddle of the dream—and, for some unknown reason, intensely interested in discovering what this missing something was.  Still deliriously tired, I decided to dip back into the subconscious world for a final time, resolved to learn what that missing something was.

I was back.  We were still walking right by it, unaware of its presence.  Then I realized--this was the presence of God in our lives.  We were going through our days largely oblivious to the most obvious, most important part of our experience--God, the Creator, Sustainer, and Savior of the world.  It is Him we need most, and on Whom we most rely, and yet we pass the majority of our lives forgetful of His intimate presence in our hearts, minds, and souls.

Even though I am still extremely tired, barely able to stay awake as I type this, the magnitude of this experience transcends the capabilities of the written word, resulting in an account that is inherently inadequate.  Nonetheless, I write it down as both a reference point for myself (in hopes that this will remind me of the actual experience, which was a powerful spiritual reminder) and as a potential source of inspiration for any readers who may or may not exist out there.

St. Ignatius of Loyola crafted a spiritual exercise known as the Examen, which is a deliberate, meditative review of one’s day.  The purpose of the meditation is to discover how God was working in one’s life on any given day.  Positive experiences, known as consolations, are obviously portals for God’s grace to enter into our lives.  However, negative experiences or desolations, are also possible entry points for grace.  Learning to find God in both the positive and the negative, then, is the art of the Examen.  The prayer continues with a petition to God for forgiveness of one’s sins in the day, and a resolution to live the future in accordance with God’s will.

Prayers like the Examen are quite useful.  They can reorient our perspectives to find God in all things, both good and bad.  He is, after all, everywhere.  And how often do we go about our business day to day, completely unaware of His presence?  How often are we one of those people from my dream, walking through a hallway unaware of the hidden-in-plain-sight presence of God—life-giving, life-sustaining, life-transforming?  It’s the ultimate act of ungratefulness to forget our God.  But He still loves us.  He even still reaches out to us.  That is an amazing fact—proven time and again to those who seek His face—and it is a fact which should give us hope.  In spite of our fallen nature, which entices us to turn from God again and again, He loves us and reaches out to us.  Let’s try our best today not to forget Him.

Final note: As stated above, there was something surreal about this whole affair, to the point that I classify it less as an inspiring dream and more as a straight-up spiritual experience.  Rarely are we able to revisit dreams to fulfill a certain intention; more rarely still do dreams present us with such an obvious question or riddle, much less a clear solution.  I hope that the weight of this experience comes through in the words I have written.  If not, have faith that God works in very real ways, as He did with me tonight—and be receptive to what He’s trying to tell you today.

God bless,

Joezilla