St. Mary Magdalene

I love to find out how or why someone chose their particular patron. The stories are as varied as the saints themselves. What's interesting is more often than not the explanation I hear is the saint chooses you. I'm inclined to agree. My patron seized my heart long before becoming Catholic was a thought in my head.

Kneeling next to a lake on a blue camping tarp when I was 16 years old spending a week with friends and fellow campers who had become like family to me over the past 3 summers. The pastor was praying the sinners prayer and at the time I believed myself to praying it with him. My words were much different. I was baptized with my sister 97 days after I jumped feet first into the world. That evening by the lake my heart, comprehending what my mind wouldn’t until years later, formed the words "Thank You… thank you… thank you… thank you…" over and over again. "Thank you for your protection. Your hand in my life this far. Your wisdom and guidance..." Lost inside my faith and my prayer, when I opened my eyes I realized, the tears that have been pouring out of my eyes have pooled around my knees on the blue plastic. I have never doubted the source of Mary Magdalene’s tears, nor the faith and love that led her to the feet of Jesus. I’ve found myself again and again over the past 23 years on my knees lost in my own prayer of tears.

Oh, but the Saints are thorough and persistent.

After finding myself at Mass more and more. Experiencing Lent with the Church I longed to fully celebrate Easter. Knowing I couldn’t partake in the Eucharist. Licit or not, I could receive a blessing from the Priest or Deacon. I filed out of my pew making sure my arms were crossing my heart as I stepped up to the Deacon. Bob. He blesses me making the sign of the cross and saying “Mendy, May Almighty God bless you, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen”. I was a little surprised he said my name, no one had before and no one has since, but it was Deacon Bob. He and I had spent an hour every Sunday over the past 3 months talking about what it means to be Catholic. He patiently answering all the new questions I came up with week after week. He knew me well. Why wouldn’t he use my name?

The Gospel reading every Easter morning is about Mary Magdalene. That early Sunday morning she trails behind Peter and John running to the tomb. She’s already been there.  It’s her second trip. She is the first to see Jesus is gone, missing… taken? She’s brought Peter and John back. They assess the scene and return home. She weeps, heavy hearted and confused... lost. She sees the gardener and asks him where they have taken Him. He looks at her and says “Mary”, and she KNOWS. She knows He is not the gardener. She knows He is so much more than she will ever comprehend.

I also share my patron with my beautiful God Daughter, who coincidentally (if you believe in them) was baptized on her feast day, July 22 2012.

St Mary Magdalene, Pray for us.