Mary the Tower - John 11:1-45
Today’s Gospel passage is so long, that the options for a sermon seem truly endless. But I think you and I both know, I’m probably always going to lean towards the women in the story, and I’m grateful that you are all so gracious about following me down that road. So let’s talk about Mary and Martha. We met these two sisters earlier in the narrative in Luke’s Gospel, when Jesus visits their house and they exhibit two very different styles of hospitality. If you recall, Martha is very busy in the kitchen and chastises her sister Mary for lounging with Jesus, but Jesus defends Mary’s choice.
On the other hand, their brother, Lazarus, only appears in John’s Gospel. Sometimes, when there are differences or discrepancies among the four Gospels, we can put it down to the distinct theological goals of the authors, or their varying access to source material. But every once in a while, the differences point to a translation issue. And about a decade ago, a New Testament professor from Villanova University named Elizabeth Schrader decided to investigate this story.* What she discovered is complicated, but stay with me. I promise it’s worth it in the end.
As you know, there are approximately one million women named Mary in the Bible, and it’s very hard to keep them all straight. This is not a new problem, scholars and translators have struggled with biblical names for millennia. People who study ancient texts find typos, questions, and deliberate adjustments all the time. Now when Schrader was combing through early manuscripts of the raising of Lazarus, she noticed something interesting. Martha’s name doesn’t appear until the later copies. The earliest ones only feature a woman named Mary. This could be because early transcribers said to one another, “surely this is a mistake, they must have meant Mary and Martha, let’s just correct it.”
But Schrader wasn’t convinced that this was a mistake in need of correcting. She became suspicious that the original writers did not include Martha because she wasn’t actually there. Schrader also suspected that the Mary who was there, wasn’t Martha’s sister, Mary of Bethany, at all, but in fact, Mary Magdalene, the disciple known first for her scandalous profession and later for being among the women who arrived first at the empty tomb. Schrader has studied Mary Magdalene for most of her career, so I trust her instincts here.
But I will share what I find to be the most compelling evidence. In Holy Scripture, when a human being realizes and then proclaims out loud the truth of who God is, God responds by naming the truth of who that person is. An Old Testament example is Hagar in the book of Genesis. A New Testament example is Peter. In Matthew’s Gospel, Peter says to Jesus, “You are the Christ, the son of the living God.” In response, Jesus says that Peter and his confession are the rock on which the Church will be built.
So, supposing it is Mary Magdalene who meets Jesus after Lazarus has died, we find that she, too, confesses Jesus’ name, saying, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” Now Jesus doesn’t immediately respond, but there’s one more piece of the puzzle you need, and it has to do with Mary’s name.
Magdala, in Aramaic, means fortress, or tower. Now perhaps, the town of Magdala, where Mary came from, had a fortress of some kind. But Schrader suggests that Mary Magdalene is not named solely for where she comes from, but for who she is. Both Peter and Mary Magdalene confess Jesus as Lord. Peter is the Rock, Mary is the Tower. This is theologically meaningful. It suggests that confessions like these are both the foundation and the pinnacle of our faith. They are our starting point and the culmination of our journey with Christ.
If you’re still with me after that translation studies deep dive, you’ve earned a jewel in your crown. But here is what I most want to tell you about Mary the Tower. Her strength does not lie where you might think. The story of the raising of Lazarus is a frustratingly long story in a series of frustratingly long Lenten Gospel passages, and it is made more so by the fact that Jesus absolutely refuses to be rushed. I feel very sympathetic to the anxious disciples in this story who repeatedly tell Jesus, “Lazarus is dying!” and “Lazarus is dead, we’ve got to go!” Meanwhile Jesus simply will not pick up his feet.
I’m sure that one of the reasons I find this perceived sluggishness particularly annoying is that I feel a similar sense of urgency in my every day life. I pray daily for God to bring a rapid end to violent conflicts in our world. I pray for swift healing for those on our prayer list. I want to fix the problems I see in front of me, and when I can’t, I try to use my agency to convince God to take care of them post haste. We feel a rush to improve the state of the world and it can be infuriating when God does not share our urgency.
Just ask Mary. She practically screams at Jesus to do something about Lazarus. But Jesus responds calmly and steadily. He gently coaxes from her the confession that he is the Lord. That’s all. But in that moment, that’s all she needs. Mary is not the tower of strength because she fixed everything. She didn’t fix anything. She is not the tower of strength because she facilitated Jesus fixing everything. She didn’t do that either. Mary is the tower of strength because in the midst of the chaos, she was able to be still and know who God is.
We want so desperately to take actions to solve the world’s problems. And if we can’t, we want to compel God to do it for us. But Jesus reminds us in John’s Gospel that one of our most powerful and transformative actions is to stand still in the midst of chaos and confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. Because this alone can build up in us a strength that we could never nurture in ourselves alone.
God’s unexplainable sense of timing is often maddening to me. This is why I am so inspired by Mary the Tower. I want to be more of a tower of strength and less of a frantic screamer - though this can be pretty cathartic from time to time. Perhaps my goal this Lenten season is just to tip that balance, even slightly. Maybe it looks like adjusting where I focus my urgent energy. Maybe it looks like repeating the prayer that Jesus is my Lord.
Most of all I hope Mary Magdalene can remind us that the foundation of our faith, the naming of Christ as our Messiah, can also be one of our most powerful sources of strength in times of distress. It is worth remembering. When our world feels desperate and bleak, if we could all, even for just a moment, be still and know who God is, what an incredible tower of strength the Church could be. Amen.
* Schrader, Elizabeth (2017). Was Martha of Bethany Added to the Fourth Gospel in the Second Century?. Harvard Theological Review, 110(3). pp. 360–392.