01.04.2026 Mary Magdalene – a different take on the Easter Story

Chameli writes: In the shimmering opening between the in-breath and the out-breath… at the outermost edge of what I know… as I sense the unfathomable vastness beyond, I remember Mary Magdalene. I remember Mary, Miryam the Migdalah, standing there trembling, facing the empty grave. I wonder what She was thinking, what sensations moved through Her body. She has come alone to the grave of her beloved, who suffered an excruciating death only days ago. She carries sacred oils for the ritual She is to perform on his body. As she approaches, she meets the unthinkable. The entrance is open. The grave is empty. Her heart beats fast. She is grasping for air, not able to comprehend what she sees. Then she senses a presence behind her. She turns, assuming it is the gardener, and with urgency in her voice asks: What have they done? Where have they taken his body? It is Him. Jesus. Jeshua. Standing before her. Alive. The image haunts me, tickles me, challenges me. What is it, truly, that she sees in that moment? When she cries out, “Rabboni, my Beloved Master!” Jeshua responds gently, “Do not cling to me… but go, tell the others that I have arisen.” And in that instant, she enters what the Gospel of Philip calls a “restoration to fullness of being.” Do not cling to me… but go. Jeshua saw it. Mary saw it. For the teaching to take root, she could not cling to what had been. Even His teachings would turn into plastic the moment She would cling to his form instead of stepping into the authority of what had opened within Her. She, a woman, becomes the first witness. The first voice of the miracle. The miracle in this story is not only what She saw, but the awakening to clear seeing that happened inside Her, her undefended willingness to let all that She had known up till then fall to the ground like rose petals at the feet of Spirit in its stripped, naked glory. And last, but perhaps the most important miracle in this story, is what She did next. She saw that Spirit takes forms which move through birth and death, yet just as the ocean does not die when the wave dissolves, Spirit itself does not die. She saw that Spirit is eternal. Standing there in the garden, before the empty grave, She meets the light of Being itself. As we say in the Goddess Path, she “sees with a thousand eyes.” She sees, truly sees, the Spirit within all things… and within Herself. No longer the object of my affections he has become the subject of my truth~ Robert T. Pynn This is where we meet Mary Magdalene across the mirage of time, sisters on the path as we face the courage that is demanded of us at this time. More than 2,000 years later, we find ourselves still hovering on that edge, trembling in that pause between the breaths. Sisters, calling on each other to rise. Have we, you and I, seen the eternal Spirit? Yes. We have. Even if only for a fleeting moment, we have seen. Is it a miracle? YES. It is. Tell me, have you let the taking-for-granted blanket grow thick over your capacity for awe? Do we still cling to forms and dogmas that create separation, placing wisdom somewhere outside of ourselves? Yes. I’m afraid we do. We are Goddess Wisdom Keepers. Lovers of Spirit. These are big words. What does it take to live it? Have you known moments like hers at the grave? Perhaps you have not seen a resurrected Jesus. But have you felt your defenses dissolve before a vast landscape… a newborn child… daffodils at springtime… a true teacher… a lover… a sister… or in the moment when dance takes you and suddenly you realize you are looking into the flawless mirror of the Living Spirit? And in that reflection, did’t you recognize the beauty of what you are, and what we all are? And then, the real question: What did you do next? Right here at the edge of the out-breath, having claimed my seat in the timeless circle, a circle of fire and love that will hold me to my commitment, that will push me, pull me, challenge me to, without necessarily knowing how, stand for what I have seen, I remember Mary Magdalene, as she turns around and steps into Her assignment. She returns to those gathered in grief and tells them what She has seen. She takes her place. She becomes the apostle to the apostles. In the Gospel of the Beloved Companion (which, although unknown to most of us, is viewed by some as one of the earliest gospels), we learn that she goes on to share with them profound pathways and practices for all of us, not to only have a spiritual experience, but to actually live it. Did she shout from the rooftops, did she set up a soapbox in the park? Knowing a bit about the political and social environment around her, the answer is probably not. But did she stand tall in Her knowing? Oh yes, She did. She could not depend on approval from the world around her.  How could She? She was assigned to the post right at the leading edge. She had to find the source of Her authority in the intimacy of her own love for what had been shown to Her. Her love, a pull of gravitation tugging on us still today. She is still standing. Challenging us, her sisters, not giving up on us. I feel her. Her heart is on fire. She is still waiting for us to let go of the clinging to the known, to the old theater of wisdom out there on a throne. Are you running in the wheel of seeking for what’s next, or are you growing your roots in what you have already seen? This is not about spiritual arrogance, that belongs to paradigms we are outgrowing. Of course we bow to wisdom wherever it appears. And still, I see it in myself and in my sisters, how we minimize the value of our path simply because we cannot find confirmation from the outside. I witness how we are still waiting for approval, comparing the fresh kiss of Spirit that we are offered in our practices with outdated models of Spirit embodied by men only, how we are still moving in circles, repeating the past. How we avoid that one scary step outside the circle of the known and into the rush of self-arising wisdom expressed through us. Are we secretly hoping that someone else will do it for us? Do we dare to lean into the edge of the vast unknown, bringing into form the promise of that encounter by the empty grave? Is the feminine meant to have a real influence in this shift in consciousness that is unfolding at this time? Who will teach that? Who will stand for that? Are you the voice of the deep feminine? Who else will it be? Mary Magdalene has passed on the torch. Are we ready? To “stand in truth” will obviously look different for each one of us, but beyond the form it takes, it foremost is to once and for all become a place of gravity in the momentum you call “my life.” To again and again release the addictive cramps of unworthiness, and return to the authority of Spirit. To dare to, even if your legs are trembling, face the greatness which in this very breath is pressing itself into you. Mary Magdalene… Sometimes I secretly regret the day I turned that corner, finding you standing there, your light almost blinding me. From the moment our eyes met, there has been no escaping the vision of union, and that it is ours to bring into form. In the pregnant pause between the known and the potential of what I can only sense, I cannot find any affirmation or acknowledgment other than from deep inside. A whisper of knowing that is so undefined, so hard to grasp. Yet this is where I stand, because I cannot do otherwise. There is no turning back. I cannot unsee what I have seen. – Chameli #awakeningwomen #goddesswisdom #wisdomkeepers

Jetzt kurz vorm Vollmond am 02. April, während der Winter noch mit beharrlichen Nachhall im Saal des Frühlings tanzt, ziehe ich mich ans Herdfeuer zurück, um diese besondere Qualität in der Stille zu verinnerlichen. 

Das Osterfest der Auferstehung in uns verweist auf die aufblühende Schöpferkraft der Mutter Erde – auf das Wiedererwachen von Leben, das in der Tiefe bereits angelegt ist.

In diesen Tagen lese ich das Das Evangelium der Maria Magdalena von Jean-Yves Leloup – über die spirituellen Geheimnisse der geliebten Gefährtin Jesu.

Dieses Evangelium, über Jahrhunderte von der Kirche in den Hintergrund gedrängt, lässt Leben und Lehre Jesu in einem neuen, lebendigen Licht erscheinen. Es öffnet einen Raum für eine tief berührende, innere Erfahrung – eine Reise, die heute ebenso aktuell ist wie vor zweitausend Jahren.

Happy Easter in peace and love, Nancy

Foto credit: Gerhard Leitner aac