Susanna's Last Words
Stories
Contents
What's Up This Week
"Susanna's Last Words" by David O. Bales
"Eyewitnesses" by Stan Purdum
"Where's Jesus?" by Timothy F. Merrill
What's Up This Week
Mary Magdalene plays an important part in the resurrection narrative -- as the first person to encounter the risen Jesus, she is the one who shares the astounding news with the disciples... and with us. In our featured story for Easter Sunday, David Bales describes the passionate defense of Mary offered by her friend Susanna. Despite the reputation Mary Magdalene has in some quarters as someone with a "history," Susanna reminds us of the ultimate significance of the resurrection -- and asserts that Mary's presence at the empty tomb ought to be what she should be remembered for. There's also a story from Stan Purdum, plus a piece by Timothy Merrill musing on his fascination with tombstones -- including the stone you'll never find.
* * * * * * * * *
Susanna's Last Words
David O. Bales
John 20:1-18
"I don't know who started making up stories about Mary of Magdala," Susanna said, "but she was a fine, generous person. We were from the same clan and grew up neighbors. Even as young mothers, hardly a week passed that we didn't see each other. I knew her well, both before and after we followed Jesus. So before you bury her, I want to make clear to anyone and for all of Jesus' followers that Mary was a reliable and faithful witness to Jesus."
Susanna took a deep breath to continue her spirited argument, although whom she was arguing with wasn't clear. She began to cough and her thin white hair shook around her head. She turned away from the 20 believers who stood beside the pallet. Mary's body, wrapped in a linen cloth, lay on the ground in front of them. A woman nearby offered her hand under Susanna's elbow. Susanna shook away the help, flapping her hand in a fast wave, making everyone keep their distance until she finished coughing.
She seemed angry for not being able to stop coughing. Soon she composed herself. She cleared her throat twice more and turned again to the group beside Mary's body. "Some people have latched onto the tale that Jesus cast seven demons from her. Did anybody ask me what that meant?
"Mary was sick off and on for that year. Two old ladies came daily to see her and to tell her 'Stay strong.' And she'd drag herself from bed, wait on them, ask after their families, and sympathize with their problems with the Roman tax collectors. After half the morning they'd leave and speculate in whispers that surely God was punishing Mary -- her only baby to live beyond a week died two years later; her husband, no matter how rich he was, lost at sea when he accompanied a load of his salted fish to Rome, attemping to get a better price than the pittance his broker offered."
Susanna coughed again, shaking her frail, old body. She grimaced, struggling to keep speaking. "Finally, Mary became so sick she could hardly move. We took turns sitting with her. If she talked, you had to put your ear by her mouth and you couldn't make out half of what she said.
"We went out to greet Jesus when he came to town, and we asked him to come visit a very sick person who wished to hear what he said about God. That was the sabbath, and Jesus cast the demon from her. She felt better instantly, but the next day was just as bad. We brought Jesus back, and again he cast out the demon. Again she was well. As it turns out, Mary wasn't completely cured until the seventh time. The Pharisees said that Mary wasn't cured the first time because Jesus worked on the sabbath, and God was obviously humiliating him by having to repeat it six times.
"Why should people gang up on Mary? They..." Susanna choked on her word and coughed until her narrow bony face was as red as blood. The mourners shuffled in embarrassment and most, in respect, didn't stare at her as she hacked and gasped. The elderly Susanna and Mary, after decades of being inseparable in their serving Christ, had seemed in the last month to race one another to death -- and Mary, because of early practice, got there first.
"We... we," Susanna wheezed, "were only too glad to leave that petty town of Magdala. Jesus said, 'You want to what?'
" 'To follow you with your other students,' Mary said while I stood slightly behind her. Jesus turned to his men students, then back to us. He hesitated a long time, gazing over Galilee Lake. He looked squarely into Mary's eyes, then into mine, and said, 'Of course.'
"And we were faithful to Jesus and to his teaching, no matter how many Pharisees or the other rabbis sneered at us, no matter the chief priests' astonishment when we followed Jesus into the temple precincts and gathered with the rest of his students when he taught. They're the ones who made up stories about us, because they didn't think Jesus should have women students. They didn't believe a rabbi should even be seen in public with a woman. Jesus let us follow along with his men students because he taught everyone to be morally pure -- even in our thoughts.
"Mary should be honored. She was first at the tomb. The risen Jesus appeared to her first. He..." Susanna choked again, and swayed. She closed her eyes and seemed ready to faint; but as she began buckling at the knees, she opened her eyes and stood upright. She peered around as if she were irate at everyone. She didn't know who had started or passed along the wicked rumors about her and her beloved Mary Magdalene.
"I'll say only this, and let it lay upon your hearts. What's more important: How many times Jesus cast demons from Mary or that the risen Lord appeared to her and sent the message of his new life through her? Jesus' resurrection is more important than anything about Mary or me. Now, you can throw her body in a cave and push a rock over it or you can toss it into a hole and cover it with dirt. If Mary wasn't right about Jesus' being raised from the dead, it won't make any difference what you do with her remains -- or with mine for that matter."
Susanna steadied herself, then stumbled slightly as she left. She turned to leave, paused, then slowly turned back to the silent group standing around Mary of Magdala's body. "I'd like to place a curse upon any who besmirch Mary's memory. Instead, obeying our Lord Jesus who accepted both men and women followers, I bless all those who trust that our Lord has risen from the dead no matter the foul and undeserved reputation of those who serve him."
David O. Bales is a retired Presbyterian minister and a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries. He is the author of Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace (CSS).
Eyewitnesses
Stan Purdum
"...but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses..."
-- Acts 10:40-41a
"It couldn't have been him," the distraught woman said. "I talked to him not more than an hour ago."
The police officer shifted uneasily on his feet. These things were never easy. "I'm so sorry, ma'am," he said, "but we identified him from his driver's license. And the car was registered in his name as well."
"Well, it's got to be a mistake. It's not him."
"Actually," replied the officer, "we will need someone to formally identify him."
"I'll do it." That was from the woman's 16-year-old son, Ryan. She didn't know how long he had been standing behind her, but suddenly she was glad he was there. He was such a level-headed boy. He'd be able to straighten out this colossal mistake. One look and he'd know the man lying in morgue was not his father. And then the police could put their energies into finding out who the unfortunate driver was.
"Thank you, Ryan," she said. Then, turning to the officer, she added, "My son will go with you, and you'll see. It's not my Tom you've got there." The starch in her voice was almost convincing, but both the officer and Ryan noticed the quiver in her lip.
"Is there someone we can call for you first?" the officer asked.
"Not necessary," the woman said, gathering her courage. "You'll have Ryan back in no time. You'll see."
It was less than an hour later when Ryan came back. But as he opened the door, his mother took one look at him and knew the awful truth.
They crumpled into each other's arms, sobbing for great grief.
"It couldn't have been him," Philip said. "They crucified him. All Jerusalem saw it. Nobody could have survived that. He's dead. I didn't want to believe it, but it's true."
Mary Magdalene could hardly stand still, even though she'd run all the way from the tomb. "But it was him," she said, "He spoke to me."
"You've got to be a mistaken, woman. It's not him."
"Actually," replied Mary, "John and Peter have been to the tomb. It's empty."
"Yes, they told me. But all that proves is that his body has been moved."
Mary realized that Philip was not going to be convinced by anything she said, so finally she simply told him, "You just wait. You'll see."
Much later that day, she entered the house where the Eleven had been staying. Except for Thomas, they were all there.
And all ten of them were sobbing for great joy.
Stan Purdum is the pastor of Centenary United Methodist Church in Waynesburg, Ohio. He has served as the editor for the preaching journals Emphasis and Homiletics, and he has written extensively for both the religious and secular press. Purdum is the author of New Mercies I See (CSS) and He Walked in Galilee (Abingdon Press), as well as two accounts of his long-distance bicycle journeys, Roll Around Heaven All Day and Playing in Traffic.
Where's Jesus?
Timothy F. Merrill
"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen."
-- Luke 24:5b
I have a hobby that some people might think odd, if not perverse. I like to take pictures of the tombstones of famous people. That's why in my travels I always visit the local cemetery.
I've visited the catacombs in Rome and in Paris -- full of dead men's bones, unknown and forgotten by history.
But visit Arlington National Cemetery and you'll find the grave of President John F. Kennedy and of some Supreme Court justices like Thurgood Marshall. Their earthly remains are there -- beneath the sod.
Travel to Mount Vernon and you can snap a picture of the tomb of George Washington. Go to Philadelphia and you'll find Benjamin Franklin. In Boston, walk the Freedom Trail and you'll go by the graves of Samuel Adams and other Revolutionary War figures.
In Montparnasse Cemetery in Paris, you'll find the writer Guy de Maupassant. Jean-Paul Sartre, the famous existentialist philosopher, is buried there too, and Simone de Beauvoir, his life-long companion, is buried on top of him, or above him.
At Pere LaChaise in Paris, you'll find the composer Chopin. His remains are right there, crowded in among thousands of others like Oscar Wilde and The Doors' Jim Morrison. Napoleon lies in a magnificent vault in Paris. If you know where to look you can find many others, such as Voltaire and Victor Hugo.
Some famous people are interred in churches. At the Church of Santa Crocia in Florence, you'll find Galileo and Michelangelo. There -- lying in a church.
In Rome, the remains of popes lie in the crypt of St. Peter's Basilica, and the remains of the apostles Peter and Paul are said to be in Rome as well.
Of course, I sometimes visit the gravesites of people who are not famous -- like my family. I've got aunts and uncles in marked graves in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I have family members in plots in the little village of Clarksville, Iowa. My dad is buried in a small rural cemetery outside of Fort Lupton, Colorado. I visit these graves to remember. It helps to locate the place where the mortal remains of my loved ones are interred.
I've got pictures of all these places, and the tombstones and markers of people who lie beneath or within.
But I've traveled to Israel too. More than once. Every time, I go to the garden tomb where they laid Jesus over 2,000 years ago. I take pictures.
Every time it's the same. The tomb is open. It's empty.
He is not there.
He is risen.
Timothy Merrill is the Senior Editor of the preaching journal Homiletics. He has published numerous articles in the religious press and in academic journals, and he is the author of Learning to Fall: A Guide for the Spiritually Clumsy (Chalice Press). Merrill is an ordained United Church of Christ minister who has served churches in Colorado, Minnesota, and Oregon. This piece appears in the CSS volume Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit (Series IV, Cycle C).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and email the story to us.
**************
StoryShare, April 8, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"Susanna's Last Words" by David O. Bales
"Eyewitnesses" by Stan Purdum
"Where's Jesus?" by Timothy F. Merrill
What's Up This Week
Mary Magdalene plays an important part in the resurrection narrative -- as the first person to encounter the risen Jesus, she is the one who shares the astounding news with the disciples... and with us. In our featured story for Easter Sunday, David Bales describes the passionate defense of Mary offered by her friend Susanna. Despite the reputation Mary Magdalene has in some quarters as someone with a "history," Susanna reminds us of the ultimate significance of the resurrection -- and asserts that Mary's presence at the empty tomb ought to be what she should be remembered for. There's also a story from Stan Purdum, plus a piece by Timothy Merrill musing on his fascination with tombstones -- including the stone you'll never find.
* * * * * * * * *
Susanna's Last Words
David O. Bales
John 20:1-18
"I don't know who started making up stories about Mary of Magdala," Susanna said, "but she was a fine, generous person. We were from the same clan and grew up neighbors. Even as young mothers, hardly a week passed that we didn't see each other. I knew her well, both before and after we followed Jesus. So before you bury her, I want to make clear to anyone and for all of Jesus' followers that Mary was a reliable and faithful witness to Jesus."
Susanna took a deep breath to continue her spirited argument, although whom she was arguing with wasn't clear. She began to cough and her thin white hair shook around her head. She turned away from the 20 believers who stood beside the pallet. Mary's body, wrapped in a linen cloth, lay on the ground in front of them. A woman nearby offered her hand under Susanna's elbow. Susanna shook away the help, flapping her hand in a fast wave, making everyone keep their distance until she finished coughing.
She seemed angry for not being able to stop coughing. Soon she composed herself. She cleared her throat twice more and turned again to the group beside Mary's body. "Some people have latched onto the tale that Jesus cast seven demons from her. Did anybody ask me what that meant?
"Mary was sick off and on for that year. Two old ladies came daily to see her and to tell her 'Stay strong.' And she'd drag herself from bed, wait on them, ask after their families, and sympathize with their problems with the Roman tax collectors. After half the morning they'd leave and speculate in whispers that surely God was punishing Mary -- her only baby to live beyond a week died two years later; her husband, no matter how rich he was, lost at sea when he accompanied a load of his salted fish to Rome, attemping to get a better price than the pittance his broker offered."
Susanna coughed again, shaking her frail, old body. She grimaced, struggling to keep speaking. "Finally, Mary became so sick she could hardly move. We took turns sitting with her. If she talked, you had to put your ear by her mouth and you couldn't make out half of what she said.
"We went out to greet Jesus when he came to town, and we asked him to come visit a very sick person who wished to hear what he said about God. That was the sabbath, and Jesus cast the demon from her. She felt better instantly, but the next day was just as bad. We brought Jesus back, and again he cast out the demon. Again she was well. As it turns out, Mary wasn't completely cured until the seventh time. The Pharisees said that Mary wasn't cured the first time because Jesus worked on the sabbath, and God was obviously humiliating him by having to repeat it six times.
"Why should people gang up on Mary? They..." Susanna choked on her word and coughed until her narrow bony face was as red as blood. The mourners shuffled in embarrassment and most, in respect, didn't stare at her as she hacked and gasped. The elderly Susanna and Mary, after decades of being inseparable in their serving Christ, had seemed in the last month to race one another to death -- and Mary, because of early practice, got there first.
"We... we," Susanna wheezed, "were only too glad to leave that petty town of Magdala. Jesus said, 'You want to what?'
" 'To follow you with your other students,' Mary said while I stood slightly behind her. Jesus turned to his men students, then back to us. He hesitated a long time, gazing over Galilee Lake. He looked squarely into Mary's eyes, then into mine, and said, 'Of course.'
"And we were faithful to Jesus and to his teaching, no matter how many Pharisees or the other rabbis sneered at us, no matter the chief priests' astonishment when we followed Jesus into the temple precincts and gathered with the rest of his students when he taught. They're the ones who made up stories about us, because they didn't think Jesus should have women students. They didn't believe a rabbi should even be seen in public with a woman. Jesus let us follow along with his men students because he taught everyone to be morally pure -- even in our thoughts.
"Mary should be honored. She was first at the tomb. The risen Jesus appeared to her first. He..." Susanna choked again, and swayed. She closed her eyes and seemed ready to faint; but as she began buckling at the knees, she opened her eyes and stood upright. She peered around as if she were irate at everyone. She didn't know who had started or passed along the wicked rumors about her and her beloved Mary Magdalene.
"I'll say only this, and let it lay upon your hearts. What's more important: How many times Jesus cast demons from Mary or that the risen Lord appeared to her and sent the message of his new life through her? Jesus' resurrection is more important than anything about Mary or me. Now, you can throw her body in a cave and push a rock over it or you can toss it into a hole and cover it with dirt. If Mary wasn't right about Jesus' being raised from the dead, it won't make any difference what you do with her remains -- or with mine for that matter."
Susanna steadied herself, then stumbled slightly as she left. She turned to leave, paused, then slowly turned back to the silent group standing around Mary of Magdala's body. "I'd like to place a curse upon any who besmirch Mary's memory. Instead, obeying our Lord Jesus who accepted both men and women followers, I bless all those who trust that our Lord has risen from the dead no matter the foul and undeserved reputation of those who serve him."
David O. Bales is a retired Presbyterian minister and a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries. He is the author of Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace (CSS).
Eyewitnesses
Stan Purdum
"...but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses..."
-- Acts 10:40-41a
"It couldn't have been him," the distraught woman said. "I talked to him not more than an hour ago."
The police officer shifted uneasily on his feet. These things were never easy. "I'm so sorry, ma'am," he said, "but we identified him from his driver's license. And the car was registered in his name as well."
"Well, it's got to be a mistake. It's not him."
"Actually," replied the officer, "we will need someone to formally identify him."
"I'll do it." That was from the woman's 16-year-old son, Ryan. She didn't know how long he had been standing behind her, but suddenly she was glad he was there. He was such a level-headed boy. He'd be able to straighten out this colossal mistake. One look and he'd know the man lying in morgue was not his father. And then the police could put their energies into finding out who the unfortunate driver was.
"Thank you, Ryan," she said. Then, turning to the officer, she added, "My son will go with you, and you'll see. It's not my Tom you've got there." The starch in her voice was almost convincing, but both the officer and Ryan noticed the quiver in her lip.
"Is there someone we can call for you first?" the officer asked.
"Not necessary," the woman said, gathering her courage. "You'll have Ryan back in no time. You'll see."
It was less than an hour later when Ryan came back. But as he opened the door, his mother took one look at him and knew the awful truth.
They crumpled into each other's arms, sobbing for great grief.
"It couldn't have been him," Philip said. "They crucified him. All Jerusalem saw it. Nobody could have survived that. He's dead. I didn't want to believe it, but it's true."
Mary Magdalene could hardly stand still, even though she'd run all the way from the tomb. "But it was him," she said, "He spoke to me."
"You've got to be a mistaken, woman. It's not him."
"Actually," replied Mary, "John and Peter have been to the tomb. It's empty."
"Yes, they told me. But all that proves is that his body has been moved."
Mary realized that Philip was not going to be convinced by anything she said, so finally she simply told him, "You just wait. You'll see."
Much later that day, she entered the house where the Eleven had been staying. Except for Thomas, they were all there.
And all ten of them were sobbing for great joy.
Stan Purdum is the pastor of Centenary United Methodist Church in Waynesburg, Ohio. He has served as the editor for the preaching journals Emphasis and Homiletics, and he has written extensively for both the religious and secular press. Purdum is the author of New Mercies I See (CSS) and He Walked in Galilee (Abingdon Press), as well as two accounts of his long-distance bicycle journeys, Roll Around Heaven All Day and Playing in Traffic.
Where's Jesus?
Timothy F. Merrill
"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen."
-- Luke 24:5b
I have a hobby that some people might think odd, if not perverse. I like to take pictures of the tombstones of famous people. That's why in my travels I always visit the local cemetery.
I've visited the catacombs in Rome and in Paris -- full of dead men's bones, unknown and forgotten by history.
But visit Arlington National Cemetery and you'll find the grave of President John F. Kennedy and of some Supreme Court justices like Thurgood Marshall. Their earthly remains are there -- beneath the sod.
Travel to Mount Vernon and you can snap a picture of the tomb of George Washington. Go to Philadelphia and you'll find Benjamin Franklin. In Boston, walk the Freedom Trail and you'll go by the graves of Samuel Adams and other Revolutionary War figures.
In Montparnasse Cemetery in Paris, you'll find the writer Guy de Maupassant. Jean-Paul Sartre, the famous existentialist philosopher, is buried there too, and Simone de Beauvoir, his life-long companion, is buried on top of him, or above him.
At Pere LaChaise in Paris, you'll find the composer Chopin. His remains are right there, crowded in among thousands of others like Oscar Wilde and The Doors' Jim Morrison. Napoleon lies in a magnificent vault in Paris. If you know where to look you can find many others, such as Voltaire and Victor Hugo.
Some famous people are interred in churches. At the Church of Santa Crocia in Florence, you'll find Galileo and Michelangelo. There -- lying in a church.
In Rome, the remains of popes lie in the crypt of St. Peter's Basilica, and the remains of the apostles Peter and Paul are said to be in Rome as well.
Of course, I sometimes visit the gravesites of people who are not famous -- like my family. I've got aunts and uncles in marked graves in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I have family members in plots in the little village of Clarksville, Iowa. My dad is buried in a small rural cemetery outside of Fort Lupton, Colorado. I visit these graves to remember. It helps to locate the place where the mortal remains of my loved ones are interred.
I've got pictures of all these places, and the tombstones and markers of people who lie beneath or within.
But I've traveled to Israel too. More than once. Every time, I go to the garden tomb where they laid Jesus over 2,000 years ago. I take pictures.
Every time it's the same. The tomb is open. It's empty.
He is not there.
He is risen.
Timothy Merrill is the Senior Editor of the preaching journal Homiletics. He has published numerous articles in the religious press and in academic journals, and he is the author of Learning to Fall: A Guide for the Spiritually Clumsy (Chalice Press). Merrill is an ordained United Church of Christ minister who has served churches in Colorado, Minnesota, and Oregon. This piece appears in the CSS volume Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit (Series IV, Cycle C).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply click here share-a-story@csspub.com and email the story to us.
**************
StoryShare, April 8, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
