While this will be published after Easter, I’d still like to share with you an experience that my brand-new wife and I shared during Holy Week. We watched an interesting film: 2018’s Mary Magdalene. The Internet Movie Database (IMDB) says about it: “Twelve men heard and spread the message of Jesus. Only one woman understood it.”
Very little to go by, there, I know. That terse summary is actually true, and it does present Mary as the protagonist—i.e., the central character, who propels the story forward. But it also presents a unique vision of who Jesus is: one not at all seen in classic Hollywood productions.
The film presents Mary’s story, and says very little about the story we already know, that of the Gospel of the risen Jesus. The film assumes we’ve already got His story embedded in our heads and paints a unique picture of Jesus.
Before and after the resurrection, He’s not the classic, well-kept, well-combed Jesus we’ve all come to recognize from films like The Greatest Story Ever Told or Kings of Kings. No, this Jesus has a rather slovenly appearance. Compared to the apostles, and unlike what we’ve seen elsewhere, this depiction of Jesus is one where He is physically indistinguishable from those around him.
The Jesus of the Mary Magdalene film is one of us. He is a man who is approachable. Other than when he is confronting an afront to His father—the turning of the temple from a house of prayer into a den of thieves (Matthew 21:13)—he is soft-spoken. He listens to those who seek him, and he’s not in a rush to get anywhere.
As one of us, Mary Magdalene presents the Lord as the Prophet Isaiah presents him: one who has “no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him (Is 53:2).
As the approachable one, we see Him inviting us to “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:16). Here, we’re reminded that because we have “confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus … [we may] draw near to God with a sincere heart” (Hebrews 10:19-22). We’re convinced by this film that we who are weary and burdened can come to Him who can give us rest (Matthew 11:28).
Mary Magdalene presents us with a Jesus that, if you want to hear his voice, you have to listen to Him closely. This presentation reminds us of the God who is soft-spoken, the one who spoke to Elijah not in the wind, not in the earthquake, and not in the fire, but in the gentle whisper (I Kings 19:11-12).
This film reminds us that God is a listening father. It echoes the Psalmist who says, “The Lord hears when I call to him” (Psalm 4:3), who also says those who call out to God in their distress are heard by Him (Psalm 55:17), and that the needy are heard by one who does not despise his captive people (Psalm 69:33).
As one in no rush to get anywhere, this film’s Jesus reminds me of the nature of God. This depiction helps me to remember that “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens” and that “He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:1,11), that our times are in His hands, not our own (Psalm 31:15).
Indeed, we are living in some crazy, uncertain times, right now. We’re in a time of captivity, when we must remember some key things that will help us to survive:
· We must keep our focus steady upon He who died and rose again, on our behalf
· We must remember that we have a heavenly Father who loves us, who, exemplified in His son, is approachable, in our times of need, and must be closely listened to
· We need to recall that God is in no rush to get anywhere and is in no rush to get us anywhere, either
The final scene of Mary Magdalene was the most touching, for me. It shows Jesus risen and—again, in no rush—just sitting on a rock overlooking the Sea of Galilee. Mary approaches and she also rests with Him there, overlooking the sea, and they talk about the Kingdom.
If we can imagine Mary representing the church, we can also consider ourselves, as part of the Kingdom. We can imagine ourselves sitting and resting alongside the sea of our lives, with He who became one of us; we can recall the approachable one with the listening ear, He who is in no rush to get us anywhere, yet ready to fill us with more of Himself and take us from place to place—in His time.
Maybe, in this time of imposed pause, we can recall that God has a place beside the sea prepared for us to commune with Him. He was here with us and is here, again, sitting and waiting for us to join Him.
—Kevin Hutchins
