​I Believe in Mary Magdalene
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"When I feel lost or unheard, I think of Mary Magdalene—how she stood at the cross when others fled, how she was the first to witness the resurrection. Not because she was perfect, but because she loved deeply and stayed present. Her story reminds me that devotion, courage, and tenderness are not small things—they can change the world. I want to be faithful to the historical Mary Magdalene: a devoted follower of Jesus.

I am also glad that her image has evolved through time in ways that touch the human heart. Over the centuries, she has been cast as the repentant sinner, the mystic soul, the beloved disciple, the solitary hermit, and even the secret bride—images that both distort and deepen her legacy. In each, the feelings and longings of generations are poured into her story: the ache for forgiveness, the hunger for intimacy with the divine, the cry for women’s spiritual authority, the desire to be known and named in love. 

Let's be honest. Jesus is relational through and through. Without Mary Magdalene—and the many other women who supported him—Jesus could not have been “Jesus.” The gospel story depends on their presence, their care, their witness. In the mythical layers—the penitent sinner, the weeping woman, the mystic of love—I find something of myself, and of us all. They remind me that the sacred is not confined to perfection—or, for that matter, to history. It lives in the stories we carry, the truths we feel, and the love we choose to give.
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So, yes, I believe in Mary Magdalene. Not just who she was, but who she continues to be and is becoming—in memory, in imagination, and in the unfolding hearts of those who find strength in her story."

— Elena Ruiz, imaginary community organizer and spiritual seeker

​Mary Magdalene:
​A Scholarly Discussion

Mary Magdalene is one of the best-known figures in the Bible and has been a frequent inspiration to artists and writers over the last 2000 years. According to the New Testament, she was at the foot of the cross when Jesus was crucified and was one of the first people to see Jesus after the resurrection. However, her identity has provoked a large amount of debate and in the Western Church she soon became conflated with two other figures mentioned in the Bible, a repentant sinner and Mary of Bethany. Texts discovered in the mid-20th century provoked controversy and raised further questions about the nature of her relations with Jesus.

With:

Joanne Anderson, Lecturer in Art History at the Warburg Institute, School of Advanced Study, University of London

Eamon Duffy, Emeritus Professor of the History of Christianity at the University of Cambridge and Fellow of Magdalene College
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Joan Taylor, Professor of Christian Origins and Second Temple Judaism at King's College London
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Producer: Victoria Brignell.

The Becoming of Mary Magdalene

Historically, Mary Magdalene appears in the four canonical Gospels as a Jewish woman from the town of Magdala, located on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee. The name Magdala means “tower” in Aramaic and Hebrew—a detail that has invited both geographical and symbolic interpretation. While the historical Magdala was a fishing village, the name itself suggests strength, elevation, and prominence. In this light, Mary is not only Mary from Magdala but also, in a deeper sense, Mary the Tower—a spiritual beacon among the early followers of Jesus.

According to Luke 8:2, she had been healed by Jesus when he cast out seven demons—an event symbolizing an inner transformation. She became part of the traveling group that supported Jesus’ ministry, possibly even financially. Mary is best known for her presence at key moments in the story of Jesus: she stood by the cross during the crucifixion, observed his burial, and was the first to witness and proclaim his resurrection. In the Gospel of John, her encounter with the risen Christ in the garden is especially poignant, and she is sent by Jesus to tell the disciples the news of his return—earning her the title “apostle to the apostles.”

Over time, however, Mary Magdalene’s image was reshaped by legend, interpretation, and ecclesiastical politics. In the sixth century, Pope Gregory the Great conflated her with other unnamed women in the Gospels: the “sinful woman” who anoints Jesus’ feet with her tears and dries them with her hair (Luke 7), and Mary of Bethany, sister of Martha and Lazarus. In some strands of tradition, she was also associated with the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4), who had multiple husbands and held a deep conversation with Jesus about living water. These associations were not supported by the texts themselves, but they were held together thematically. Each woman had a powerful, personal encounter with Jesus. Each was seen as a sinner transformed by divine love. Each responded with devotion and spiritual insight.

Thus, through a process of theological imagination and cultural storytelling, Mary Magdalene became a kind of sacred composite—a figure who embodied repentance, healing, insight, and yearning. She was cast as the penitent prostitute, the mystic disciple, the soul thirsting for God. Her tears at Jesus’ feet and at the empty tomb were not just expressions of grief or guilt, but of deep love and spiritual longing. In the medieval imagination, especially under the influence of texts like the Song of Songs, she came to represent the soul's passionate love for the divine—a love that seeks, suffers, waits, and rejoices.

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Somewhere in the consequent nature of God, the historical Mary Magdalene resides as the woman she was in the Gospels: a devoted follower of Jesus, present at his crucifixion, the first witness to his resurrection, and the one entrusted to carry the news to the other disciples—earning her the title “apostle to the apostles.” She was not a prostitute, and she may not have been the woman who anointed Jesus’s feet, even as, at the end of his earthly life, she was the first to see him resurrected in a poignant scene of intimacy, as he calls her name and she turns in recognition. She lives in the consequent nature as a memory in God's ongoing life, partly constitutive of that life; and she may also live as a subject of her own life, undergoing a continuing journey after death - as do all living beings. 

And yet her life did not end with the historical events of her life. As “objectively immortal” in the memory of God and in the imaginations of those who succeeded her—especially in the Western Church—she became something more: a composite figure carrying layers of penitence, longing, leadership, and love. Her life continues in this way. She is still becoming. 

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Can such a composite inspire even as it distorts? Historians and the historically-minded will relegate her post-historical life to myth and legend, deeming the historical closer to 'the truth' than the mythical and legendary. I suggest, however, that even as the historical can be distinguished from the mythical and legendary, the latter have 'truth' as well, namely psychological and spiritual truth, even as they distort.

In the realm of spiritual imagination, inspiration and distortion are not always mutually exclusive. Stories that evolve beyond historical accuracy can still carry emotional, symbolic, and moral power that touches hearts and reshapes lives. In the case of Mary Magdalene, the conflations and misidentifications—though historically inaccurate—allowed her to become a vessel for themes central to the human condition: sin and redemption, longing and love, sorrow and transformation.

The image of Mary as the penitent sinner, for example, may misrepresent the historical record, but it has inspired countless people who see in her the hope that even the most broken life can be made whole. Similarly, the portrayal of her as the mystic lover or spiritual companion of Jesus, though speculative, has opened pathways for contemplating a more intimate and relational connection with the divine. These symbolic versions, even if they do not align with historical fact, express truths about human experience—truths about how we suffer, how we hope, how we love, and how we return.

Process theology, with its openness to multiplicity and ongoing becoming, offers a framework for embracing all these layers. It allows us to affirm that meaning can emerge even through imperfect stories. The key is to hold such images with both reverence and critical awareness—to let them inspire without allowing them to erase or silence the historical person from whom they arise. Mary Magdalene can be honored for who she was and, at the same time, reimagined in ways that speak to new generations. Inspiration and distortion, in this view, can coexist—so long as we remain open to growth, correction, and the deeper truths to which all sacred symbols ultimately point.

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We cannot know with certainty what the historical Mary Magdalene would make of all of this, but we can wonder in her direction.

If she was, as the Gospels portray, a woman of deep courage, unwavering devotion, and spiritual insight—one who stood by Jesus in his darkest hour and responded to his resurrection with love rather than fear—then she may well have had a heart spacious enough to understand how stories evolve. She might have grieved the distortions that obscured her identity and dignity, particularly those that cast her as a prostitute and diminished her authority. But perhaps she would also recognize that in being mythologized, she became a vessel for the spiritual longings and wounded hopes of generations.

She might have said: “That was not who I was. But if my name, even through misunderstanding, helped someone feel loved, forgiven, or empowered, then let it not be in vain.”

She may have seen herself not just as a fixed historical figure, but as someone now woven into the living memory of God—the consequent nature that includes all that was true, all that was misunderstood, and all that has yet to be healed.
And so, while she may have asked to be remembered more clearly and more justly, she may also have blessed the imaginative devotion that saw in her a guide, a mystic, a seeker of intimacy with the divine.
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In that way, perhaps yes—the historical Mary Magdalene might approve, not because every detail is accurate, but because the heart of the portrayal points toward love, truth, transformation, and resurrection.

A Friendship
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John 20:11-18 NIV

Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying.

As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. 

They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 

​At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. 

He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

Jesus said to her, “Mary.” 

She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). 

​Jesus said, “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.’”

Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.