Two thousand years ago in a faraway land in the Middle East, there lived an extraordinary man called Jesus and a very beautiful woman named Magdalene.

Jesus was first of the early day ascetic-bohemian who mixed freely with drifters and ate and slept wherever hunger and fatigue overtook him; an ancient journalist-- he was author of short stories called "The Parables," and biographical fiction called The New Testament; a ruler and leader whose kingdom was not of this earth.

Magdalene, contrary to popular belief, was not exactly a courtesan, but practised to a high level of competence, a profession kown today as public relations. She packaged images and reputations and disseminated them according to clients' specifications and need to project to their target audience. She was an artist of words and language, had a unique way with conversation, skilled in influencing thoughts and emotions. Famous people like the Procurator of Judea Pontius Pilate, King Herod, Herodias, Salome, politicians, and high priests of the synagogues availed of her creative services. It helped a great deal in her profession that at banquets, Magdalene danced so heavenly to the sounds of cymbals in languid, almost ethereal movements. Thus men of power were attracted to her like moths were attracted to flame.

Again, contrary to the belief of many self righteous, Magdalene cared for the marginalized in society. She offered her help to John the Baptist, the voice in the wilderness, free of charge, when he was being persecuted by the king. But he refused, was imprisoned, and died a gruesome death with his head placed on a silver platter to be kissed on the lips by a deranged princess.

Contemporaries of Jesus and Magdalene thought they were poles apart and lived in two entirely different worlds. Buth their paths would soon cross, their strange chemistry would spark and result into an intriguing romance whose knots could only be untangled by a patient searcher of hearts, immersed in the finite wisdom of humanity, with a humble imagination of the divine.

In the course of her everyday career which required alert exchanges of information, Magdalene learned of this strange man called Jesus. Reliable sources said he came from Nazareth, son of a carpenter whose rise to prominence was sudden and can be attributed to his wit and charm.

"You should go and talk to him and make him your client," advised a colleague, "he has political ambitions, he wants to be king."

"He is a preacher, a wise teacher," said one.

"He is a magician, he can make the lepers clean, the blind

see, the cripple walk, the dead man come to life, can calm the raging sea, can walk over deep waters, can turn water into wine, and multiply loaves of bread and fishes to feed a multitude."

"He is the Messiah, a descendant of King David," others said.

"How does he look?," Magdalene asked Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus' twelve disciples whose confidence she so easily won.

"Tall, muscular but lean, with finely chiseled nose and eyes that pierce you to the soul."

"Can you arrange for us to meet?"

"Come to his talk at the Mount of Olives this afternoon.

Children were gathered around Jesus the first time she saw him. He was robed in white. He had the most kind and gentle countenance. His voice was cool and clear. He was telling a story to the children. He gazed upon her as if he expected her coming and they were about to talk of something very important.

She listened to his teaching and she was awed. He was to her a deeply mysterious poet, always speaking in metaphors. She was drawn to him in a manner she could not explain.

Soon she began spending lesser and lesser time with her company of influence peddlers and pleasure hunters. She began to be obsessed with him and started to map out tactics and strategies on how to present herself to him.

She gathered that he was attending the dinner banquet of a mutual friend. Thus she adorned herself with a most subdued cosmetic and jewelry, put on her finest blue garment, and planned her approach. Finding an appropriate moment when he was alone at the divan, she walked to him, knelt before his feet and greeted him, "Master," as he was called by disciples and friends. Then she brought out her basket of expensive bottled perfume from Arabia and began pouring it on his feet. As she was doing this, tears formed on her lids that soon fell on his feet, mixing with the sweet, aromatic liquid. As she touched his flesh, she felt as though shivers of enlightenment, guilt, grief and repentance coursed through her own flesh. Her body became an alabaster lamp that glowed and darkened and then glowed again as she was basking in the warmth of it all with a most confounding ecstacy. She wiped the master's feet dry with her long, black hair and then kiss them. All the while she was engaging in this act, Jesus was quietly watching her. She felt his eyes ravished her with a fierce, pure and blameless passion. She ached with love for him. When she was finished, Jesus told her, "Woman, cry no more. Your sins are forgiven." Magdalene cherished the sound of his voice: full and strong and yet so kind and gentle.

Meanwhile, the host and guests were shocked by this little drama and sparse exchange of words. They were scandalized that Jesus allowed himself to be touched by this woman and they were confounded when he forgave her sins. "Who is he to forgive sins?," they asked among themselves.

The next day, Magdalene's friends congratulated her for her most wileful strategy so far.

"You are really a highly skilled practitioner of the art of getting attention and ensnaring a prestigious client," they teased her.

"It was not an act," she replied and refused to dazzle them with the narration of the details of her conquest. She sent them away and said she wanted to be alone. Her friends continued to be perplexed by her strange behavior on the succeeding days.

"What is your problem? Are you in love with him?" her friends asked.

"Invite him to your place. He's just a man, and you've had so many before."

"He's different."

"So he is really a sorcerer?"

"A magician?"

"I don't know how to take this. I don't see why he moves me!"

"So finally you've met your match, you heartbreaker!"

Magdalene felt shame and at the same time a great desire to let him know she loved him and that she could not think of herself spending the rest of her life without him. But how could she make him understand? "Should I speak of love, let my feeling out?" She never thought she could ever experience this point of madness.

One evening after Jesus' conference with the fishermen who had trouble with their catch, she followed him. When he understood that she wanted to talk with him alone, he told his disciples he is going to Gethsemane to pray and that they would meet again early the next day.

"Peace be with you," he greeted her.

" I would like to ease your tired bones, wash the dust off your face, hair and feet," whispered Magdalene to Jesus while her hand reached out to him.

On the dessert moonlight, she was a divine sight to behold, a beautiful woman whose desire seemed to fill the night air.

"Can I kiss your hand, Master?"

Without waiting for an answer, she brought his hand to her lips. She thought she would never let go of this man. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, become his lawfully wedded wife and mother of his childen. She would like to suggest that they elope and migrate to Rome or France and live in an obscure town under hidden identities. She tried to tell him all these but the words seemed foolish and all she could utter was, "I would like to drink from your chalice....."

The Master began to talk about the will of his Father. He was supposed to liberate the people and later on establish a perfect government. Suddenly, she felt lost and could not cope.

One day, she heard news that Jesus was on trial before the high priest and then before the king. For sedition, for inciting the people to rebellion, for his avant garde liberation theology that advocates empowerment of the poor, for lunacy, for blasphemy, for claiming he is the son of God. But the people who wanted to make Jesus king chose to set free Barrabas, a hardened criminal, and put him to death instead. He was deserted by his disciples and friends. Pontius Pilate, although he believed Jesus was innocent, cannot do anything but wash hands. He would realize later that condemning Jesus to death would be the start of the downfall of his political career. Before Magdalene can seek favors from her connections regarding the release of Jesus, he was already crucified.

She thought she would go hysterical. She remembered the very warm welcome the people accorded to Jesus when he entered Jerusalem. And now he was dying along with robbers and thieves in Mt. Calvary.

His disciples said Jesus will rise from death on the third day. Being desperate, she believed in anything, everything. She believed he will return. She would wait for three days, three years, three decades and forever. By twist of magic or sorcery, he will manage to stage a comeback. He can surely do it. He had performed greater miracles in the past. At the same time, she was bothered by news of Judas' suicide. She felt sympathy for this helpless man who betrayed the master for thirty pieces of silver. The last time she saw him, he said he felt being used to fulfill a destiny and things seemed beyond his control.

Early on the third day, Magdalene kept vigil at Jesus' tomb. She could not believe her eyes. Indeed it was true. Jesus was resurrected. She was about to run and embrace him but Jesus stopped her with a gesture.

"Touch me not for I am not ascended yet to my Father."

"I'm dying to see you, Master. I love you."

"In your heart, you knew that greater things are meant to be. Now go in peace and tell others what you have seen."

That night, Magdalene had a dream. Jesus and she met on the seventh millenium. He was walking up to her, greeting her, "Peace be with you..." and she said, "Master, I hope this isn't just a dream, oh could we start again, please..."

Back to Home