Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping.
And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb
and saw two angels in white sitting there,
one at the head and one at the feet
where the Body of Jesus had been.
And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”
She said to them, “They have taken my Lord,
and I don’t know where they laid him.”
When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there,
but did not know it was Jesus.
Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?
Whom are you looking for?”
She thought it was the gardener and said to him,
“Sir, if you carried him away,
tell me where you laid him,
and I will take him.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary!”
She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,”
which means Teacher.
Jesus said to her, “Stop holding on to me,
for I have not yet ascended to the Father.
But go to my brothers and tell them,
‘I am going to my Father and your Father,
to my God and your God.’”
Mary went and announced to the disciples,
“I have seen the Lord,”
and then reported what he had told her.

—John 20:11-18

In the Gospel reading at Mass today, Jesus asks Mary Magdalene, “Why are you weeping?” I think Jesus very sweetly sometimes asks us the same thing to make us think: Ok, why are you really crying? Then of course, she hears His voice, and that’s enough, and she starts grasping to hang on to Him.

And He tells her, “Stop holding on to me.” But I don’t think it’s a, “STOP HOLDING ON TO ME.” I think it’s a really gentle, “Stop, you are not going to lose me.” And then, “Go tell my brothers, tell them, I am going to my Father and your Father. To my God and your God.”

What an incredible message. He reaffirms the “Our Father.” It’s Our Father. What a lovely thing, Mary doesn’t question Him, she just takes off. She’s gone. “And Mary went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord.’” She’s the apostle to the Apostles.

I think of the sweetness of doing His will. Mary wanted to hang on to Him, but He helped her to see His will instead of her own. It’s as if He said to her, “We need to do this now. You will never lose me.” What a wonderful way to live. That’s living in the New Testament. That’s truly living with that love that says to Christ, “I trust You. I will never lose You. Teach me to do Your will.”

I hope we all love that much that we want to obey Him rather than our own desires. What will we do for Him? Will we strive for an obedience that isn’t looking at ourselves, that says, “I want to join You in pleasing the Father”? What a precious gift to God this is. What a difference to look at obedience in Easter. It’s a triumphant obedience. One that says, “I live.” I wish that for each one of you — that triumphant obedience. 

Starting in the fall of last year, the Abbey’s paschal candle department focused on painting over twenty candles of various sizes. The 2026 candle’s design was inspired by the figure of Christ in Pietro Tenerani‘s monument to Pope Pius VIII in St. Peter’s Basilica, Rome. Christ, seated on His throne, is shown with a peaceful countenance and outspread arms, welcoming all who approach Him. We hope this speaks to those who have entered the Church this Easter, and to all the faithful as they encounter Christ in His Church.

Paschal candles are used during the Easter Vigil Mass to carry the flame from the Easter fire into the church, and from which every other candle in the church is lit, as a symbol of Christ the true Light enlightening the world and dispelling the darkness of evil.  

”The Last Sigh of Christ” by Julien-Michel Gue, 1840. Julien-Michel Gue, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

Prayer is about listening to God, and obedience is about acting on what we hear.  Obedience requires that we be free enough in sprit to do what God asks of us.  We need to be free to do the will of God.  When there is right relationship, right order, in our lives, obedience is simple – If we just do what we’re told (unless it is a sin!), we will become holy.  Why do we sometimes try to make holiness harder than it has to be, by avoiding doing what we’re asked because we think there’s a better/holier way?  It’s only when our relationship with God is out of order that obedience becomes a problem for us – when our self-will becomes more important than serving God and our neighbor.  When we allow our inclinations that are not quite in order with God to take the first place, it puts a weight on us that makes obedience too heavy and hard to bear.  We get irritable.  We are unhappy.  It is painful.  But when our lives are brought back into proper relationship with God, and He can ask anything of us through obedience, then our peace is restored.

So the monastic vow of obedience is not a chain – it’s a ray of light.  It shows us the way to God.  It shows us the true path.  It gives us the way through the eye of a needle.  It allows us to practice every day what Christ did during His life on earth.  He who said, “I came down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me” (John 6:38), and prayed before His death, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42), and then finally became “obedient to death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8), has gone before us to show us the way.  You can give up all your possessions, your time, your talent…But if you do not give up your will, you have not yet completely surrendered your all to God.  Try offering Him your will, and your will experience the fruit of His promise: “whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:39).

When we profess our vow of obedience, we place our hands between those of our Abbess

In Chapter 7 of his Rule, Saint Benedict tells us, “We must set up that ladder on which Jacob in a dream saw angels descending and ascending (Gen. 28:12).  Without doubt, this descent and ascent can signify only that we descend by exaltation and ascend by humility.  Now the ladder erected is our life on earth, and if we humble our hearts the Lord will raise it to heaven.  We may call our body and soul the sides of this ladder, into which our divine vocation has fitted the various steps of humility and discipline as we ascend” (Rule 7:6-9).  It says our divine vocation.  As some say, the monastic life is the life of the angels.  It’s a bit hard on us because we have original sin hanging on us, but really it is like the life of the angels in that we have the ability to be undistracted in our praise of God.  A married woman’s first duty is her husband and her family.  We have given up things and that particular love, the pleasure of a family– all of those things we have given up because of the divine call.  The divine vocation to praise God in a particular way.  We have to remember it is a divine call.  It’s not something we imagined up together and decided to do.  It cannot possibly happen without God’s grace and His call.

I want to share with you this part about what happened after Jacob’s dream: “When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he said, ‘Truly, the LORD is in this place and I did not know it!’ He was afraid and said, ‘How awesome this place is! This is nothing else but the house of God, the gateway to heaven!’” (Gen. 28:16-17).  God’s almighty power and His presence can be fearful, and we should remember who God is.  We are not His equal.  There should be some true fear of the Lord in our lives.  When you really love someone, you fear to hurt them; you fear to do something against them.  I think that is part of the fear of the Lord.  We should fear to offend Him and to live against Him.  We should fear to harm that relationship.  This fear is appropriate because we know the consequences.  This fear is the foundation of the dear virtue of humility.  Humus: we are all made of the same dirt.  There is not anybody who is made of something better – unless you’re not a human being.  There is nothing that makes us greater, except what St. Benedict says: one can be more loved because of their obedience.  This is, because of our nature, a tug of war, due to original sin.  We carry within us the desire to be like God—to have all the knowledge, to be equal with Him.  Obedience is the recognition and submission to someone being over you—to have someone over you and to have the right to ask of you great (and sometimes difficult) things, and for you to then have the duty to obey.  This is our struggle in life, and why obedience is such a great virtue.

Saint Benedict was a wise man and he loved the Lord profoundly.  His order continues to this day and it is the order that the mystics say will continue until the end of time.  I believe this is because this order teaches man about Eden: the right relationship with God, the work and the prayer, the honor of God and the honor of one another.  This is the work that we are showing to the world by our life and example—To teach them again how to communicate with God, how to love God, and how to act appropriately with our beloved Savior.  Let’s think of this today: How much are you loving God in your life?  May your goal be to love Him with your whole heart, your whole soul, your whole mind, and your whole body.

We hear over and over in the Old Testament the words of the prophets calling the people to return to the Lord.  It makes me think of our Holy Father St. Benedict—could he not be considered one of the great prophets as well?

In chapter five of the Rule we hear about St. Benedict’s teaching on obedience.  It has a value and a power far beyond our little means, because it is united with Christ.  It can be a golden tool in our lives if we allow it to be.  If we think only of being “forced” to obey, we will not get very far.  But if we think of being obedient because Christ was obedient, and to counter the fall in Eden, which happened out of disobedience, then we will be using the gift of obedience for the highest good.  If we cherish Christ above all, cherish Him deeply, we will carry out all our duties as if we heard them from God Himself.  

The Rule tells us that monks who truly practice obedience abandon their own concerns, leaving whatever they have in hand unfinished, in order to hearken to the signal for the Divine Office (Rule 43.1).   If we don’t practice this form of obedience in the little things, we will be tempted to reason our way out of everything.  It is love that impels us to pursue everlasting life and the narrow road, no longer living by our own judgment or giving in to our own appetites, but saying with Christ, “I came…not to do my own will but the will of the one who sent me” (John 6:38).  Christ’s love working in us impels us to act as He did.  Love alone will give us this grace.  

And when we feel that we cannot handle the obedience being asked of us, we can look to Christ’s example on the Mount of Olives.  He cries out to the Father for help, “Father, take this cup away from me,” but ultimately surrenders Himself with the words, “but not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).