Daughter of Jerusalem (40 page)

At first Peter didn’t believe me. “You say he was outside the tomb, but we were outside the tomb, and he wasn’t there.” He looked at the amazed faces that were gathered around me. “He wasn’t there,” he repeated.

John said, with a gentleness that was new to him, “He wanted to see Mary first, Peter.”

That was the problem, of course. Peter was jealous that he hadn’t been first.

I said, “He told me he would appear to all of you. And, remember, Peter, he named you as our leader. You are our rock. He depends upon you to spread the word of his resurrection to the world.”

Peter’s chin lifted. “I will never fail him. Never.”

None of us mentioned that Peter had already failed Jesus by denying him three times.

“I know you won’t,” I said.

Mary and I left for Bethany early in the afternoon. We met Martha on the way; she was coming into the city to find us. I told her what had happened, and she turned and accompanied us back to Bethany.

We received word from Lazarus the following day. He was safe in Capernaum and begged us to let him know what was happening in Jerusalem. Clearly he had not yet heard of Jesus’ crucifixion.

Mary, Martha, and I were sitting silently in the courtyard sun when I saw him come through the gate. He was dressed in the same white robe, yet he looked different. The scar was back on his face, and I saw the wounds in his hands and his feet.

“Yeshua!” Mary leaped up and ran into his open arms.

“Be at peace, Mother,” he said. “Be at peace.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know you would rise! I’m so glad to see you!”

She stepped away from his arms and looked up into his face. Her voice shook. “It was so awful, Yeshua. So awful.”

His voice was tender. “I know, but it is over.”

She touched his cheek and nodded.

He looked from his mother to where Martha and I were standing beside the table. He said to me, “Now the real work must begin. Do you understand, Mary? The good news of my teachings and my resurrection must be brought to all the nations of the world. That will be the mission of my disciples, to be apostles of my Word.”

The way he was looking at me, I knew he was including me in his mission. Our eyes held, and I felt the union of my spirit with his. I was filled with such love, such joy, such hope. I could do anything he asked of me. Anything.

He said, “You have always understood more than the others. Can you take my Word out into the world and bring it to the souls who hunger and thirst for the truth?”

I fell to my knees in front of him. “Yes, Lord, I can do that.”

“Always remember this—I will be with you, even unto the end of time.”

“I know that, Lord.”

He reached out a hand and drew me to my feet.

Martha had been standing by the table as if transfixed. Now she said, “Are you hungry, Master? Can I get you something to eat and drink?”

He gave her his “Martha” smile.

“I would like that very much,” he said.

Martha’s face lighted to radiance. “I’ll go and prepare something,” she said and ran off in the direction of the house.

We had him with us for forty days. During that time he appeared to all the apostles and to many of his faithful disciples as well, including Lazarus. He also came again to me, to his mother, to Ruth, and to Peter’s wife, Rebecca.

I cannot begin to express the infinite joy it was to be with him. I knew his time on earth would end, but when it finally did, when we saw him return to his Father, instead of feeling deserted, I was filled with anticipation and hope. Before he left, he told us that the Holy Spirit would give us the strength to witness to his Word in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and all the way to the ends of the earth. I believed him. We all did.

During his stay among us, the apostles had remained in the upper room while a smaller group of us stayed in Bethany. Word of Jesus’ resurrection had spread among his disciples, but no one had dared yet to preach it in the Temple. The Sanhedrin left us alone because they thought the death of our leader had crushed us, but we were waiting for the promised strength of the Holy Spirit to give us the courage to go forth as Jesus wanted.

Lazarus had returned to Bethany after Jesus appeared to him, and
we also had the company of Jesus’ brother James. When he saw his mother sitting in the courtyard, he fell to his knees before her, buried his face in her lap, and began to sob like a child.

“I failed him, Mother. I didn’t understand. I thought he was deserting us, and I couldn’t forgive him. But I never stopped loving him!” His broad shoulders shook with grief. “Yeshua!” It was a cry of anguish. “I should have known. Why didn’t he tell me?”

Mary gently stroked his hair. “He had to work out for himself who he was and what he was supposed to do. But he always understood your feelings, James. He always knew you loved him.”

“I know. I saw him.” He lifted his head. “I saw him. It was the greatest moment of my life.”

He rose to his feet and turned to look at Lazarus, Martha, and me. “Yeshua asked me to come to Jerusalem to be a leader of his church. I told him I wasn’t worthy, that such an honor should go to those who had followed him, but he said he wanted me. So I promised I would do it. I will devote the rest of my life to telling other people about my brother, the Son of God.”

“So will we all,” said Lazarus. “So will we all.”

Two days after Jesus’ return to his Father, Peter sent a message to Bethany to let us know he was calling a meeting. On the appointed day we made the familiar journey to the house in the Upper City.

The upper room was filled with disciples from Jerusalem and the surrounding area. I noticed in particular the women. They had been devoted to the Lord, many of them following him on the terrible journey to Calvary. I saw the woman who had defied the Romans by
wiping his face as he went by. We were too far apart to speak, but we shared a knowing, tearful smile.

John came over to Mary immediately and brought all of us to a space by the window. Then he went back to join the ten remaining apostles standing in the front of the room.

Peter opened the meeting by leading us all in prayer. When we finished he looked up at us and said, “I have called you here today to choose a replacement for Judas. We have always been the Twelve, and it is important that we become the Twelve again. I believe this is what the Lord would have wished. It is crucial that we choose someone who has been a longtime disciple, who has often listened to the Lord preach, and who has the ability to spread his message to others.”

I hadn’t thought about replacing Judas, who had hanged himself when he realized what his betrayal had caused. The apostles hated him, but I couldn’t help feeling pity for the young man who had misjudged his actions so fatally. I considered Peter’s idea now and thought it was a good one. To leave Judas’ place empty would always be a reminder of his betrayal. Better for them to fill it and become the Twelve again.

A man standing near the front of the room called out the name of Barsabbas, saying, “He has been a disciple of the Lord since his earliest days in Galilee. He would be a good addition to the Twelve.”

I searched for Barsabbas in the group and found him. Behind his black beard and thick black eyebrows, he was looking very grave. He was a good man, I thought. He would do very well.

Nicodemus spoke next. “I would like to suggest Matthias. He’s been one of the most faithful of disciples, also following the Lord throughout Galilee and Judea.”

Matthias, who was standing next to Nicodemus, lowered his eyes.
Matthias was younger than Barsabbas and more of a leader. I thought I might prefer him.

Peter waited, offering other people a chance to put a name before the group. There was a long pause, and Peter was lifting his hand to close the suggestions when Andrew spoke up. “I think our twelfth apostle should be Mary of Magdala.”

James, who was standing next to me, stiffened. Most of the male faces in the room looked stunned. Andrew moved his eyes from face to face as he spoke. “Mary is the only one among us who never failed him. She always understood what he meant. And—if you remember—she was the one who stayed with him during the whole of his crucifixion, while the rest of us hid in this room, afraid.”

The men who had been looking so stunned dropped their eyes. The women were smiling at me.

The apostle James said truculently, “My brother John didn’t desert him. Mary wasn’t the only one who stood under his cross!”

John shook his head slowly. “That may be true, James, but I often disappointed him. We all did.” He looked along the line of the apostles standing next to him. “We all failed him at one time or another. We quarreled over foolish things. We worried about our rank in his kingdom. We didn’t understand.”

He moved his eyes to me.

“Mary always understood. The Master loved her more than any of us because she was the one who saw him most clearly. She was the one he appeared to first.”

Our eyes held. There would always be a special bond between John and me. Then he smiled. “That’s why I don’t think we should name Mary to be one of the Twelve.”

Martha put her hand on my arm, as if to comfort me.

I patted her fingers. John continued to look at me. “You stand alone, Mary of Magdala. You were beloved of the Lord, and your honor is your own, not to be shared with anyone else.”

My heart swelled as we looked at each other.
Oh, John. You will be a great witness for the Lord. And thank you for being there for us on that terrible day.

He nodded slightly, as if he had understood my thoughts.

I was so deeply moved that I had to struggle to hold back my tears.

Lazarus put an arm around my shoulders and said, “Thank you, John.”

John nodded. Then he turned back to Peter and said gruffly, “So we have Barsabbas and Matthias. Are there any other names?”

There were none. Peter raised his arms in prayer and we all followed his lead. “
Lord, who knows the hearts of all, show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry from which Judas has turned away.
”

The apostles handed two small pieces of marked parchment to everyone in the room. The X was for Barsabbas and the O for Matthias. Thomas went around with a basket, and each of us put one piece into it, signifying our choice. When the lots were counted, Matthias had been chosen.

The Twelve were complete once more.