Mary Magdalene: Letting go for our sake.

“Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” (John 20:17)

I suspect many Bible readers have wondered, as I once did, why Jesus told Mary Magdalene not to hold on to Him. What did His not yet having “ascended to the Father” have to do with that—especially when shortly thereafter He invited Thomas to touch His pierced side?

Much of the confusion stems from the limitations baked into the English translation. It consequently sounds as if Jesus is saying, “Stay back; don’t touch me.” The original Greek word, háptou (ἅπτου), however, implies a persistent, clinging grasp already in progress. Jesus wasn't forbidding a touch; He was addressing her holding onto Him at several levels. It wasn't just her hands that were clinging, but her heart and mind, as she struggled to let go of the dear friend and teacher she thought she might never see again.

To fully appreciate why Mary clung to Him so fiercely, we must consider the road she traveled to reach this garden experience. We don't know the specifics of her past, but we do know she had been delivered from "much." And as Jesus explained in Luke 7:36-50, the depth of one's love is usually a reflection of the depth of their deliverance. Mary’s immense sense of indebtedness fueled a quiet, dependable presence that steadied her and outlasted the bravado of the other disciples.

Her independence is evident in other ways, too. Unlike many women in the New Testament who are identified by their husbands, Mary is identified by her hometown: Magdala. Following her deliverance from seven demons, she became a foundational supporter of Jesus’ ministry, providing for Him "out of her own resources," as did several other women (Luke 8:2-3). This suggests a level of financial independence rare for women of that era.

But Mary’s support wasn't just financial; it was deeply personal. Her devotion was on full display at the cross; while others fled, Mary stood with Jesus’ mother and the youngest disciple, John, witnessing His final moments as He gave up His spirit.

There is a profound irony in what Jesus was conveying to Mary at the tomb. She was being directed to let go of her physical, face-to-face interaction with Jesus for the greater good. As He had explained to the disciples before His death, "It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you" (John 16:7).

It is a beautiful paradox: Mary had to relinquish the physical presence she cherished so that we all—Mary included—could enter into the fullness of His spiritual presence through the power of the Holy Spirit. We spend our lives longing for, praying for, and striving to feel just a fraction of the physical presence that Mary enjoyed daily, yet the spiritual indwelling is the far greater security.

One final thought: It seems Jesus honored Mary’s steadfast love and devotion by granting her the honor of being the first to behold Him after the resurrection. He then chose her to be the first believer sent out with the ultimate Gospel—earning her the historical title "Apostle to the Apostles"—with the message that Jesus had indeed risen and was returning to "my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." It was a message of shared inheritance she was finally ready to carry.

Father, Thank You for the example of Mary Magdalene. Let the "much" You have forgiven us for fuel a love for You as fierce and dependable as hers. Help us let go of the things we can see and touch for a far better sense of security: the constant indwelling presence of Your Holy Spirit. Give us opportunities to be like Mary—faithful enough to stay when others flee, and bold enough to share the good news that You are risen and that Your Father is truly our Father as well—all for Your sake, not our own. Amen.

mgb