On July 22, we celebrated the feast day of Mary Magdalene, Apostle to the Apostles. Pope Francis elevated her liturgical memorial to a feast day in 2016, highlighting her vital role as a disciple and witness.

The liturgy for her feast weaves a beautiful thread of longing and discovery. The first reading (Song of Songs 3:1–4) describes a bride seeking the one her heart loves. The Responsorial Psalm cries out, “My soul is thirsting for you, O Lord, my God.” Finally, the Gospel (John 20:1–2, 11–18) brings us to the tomb.

I usually read the upcoming Sunday readings at a healthcare facility, but this week, I simply could not pass up this beautiful feast day. Several details struck me deeply during my reflection. Mary goes to the tomb early in the morning while it is still dark. While the apostles hide in the upper room, locked away in fear, Mary stands outside. She brings myrrh to anoint her Lord and Savior, only to find Him gone. Mistaking Jesus for the gardener, she begs, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

Then, Jesus simply says her name: “Mary.” I imagine Him whispering it in a soft, familiar way. Mary showed immense bravery. She turned around to speak with a stranger, acting with courage and intellect rather than rushing headlong into panic. When Jesus tells her, “Do not cling to me,” He reveals that something entirely new has arrived. The old way has changed.

Hearing Jesus call her name instantly brought two verses from Isaiah to my mind. Isaiah 43:1 reminds us, “I have called you by name; you are mine.” Isaiah 49:16 declares, “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” In ancient times, people engraved names in stone so they would never be forgotten or erased.

This scriptural imagery mirrors a treasured memory of my father. Dad always carried a small, spiral-topped notebook in his front shirt pocket. Those notebooks held everything important to him. Occasionally, if his notebook was full or if he just needed to jot something down quickly, he wrote a note directly on his palm. One day, he came to my front door to hand me something, and I noticed my name written across his hardworking, sun-tanned hand.

“Dad, why is my name written on your hand?” I asked.

He looked down and smiled. “I knew I had to change a lightbulb for you, and I didn’t want to forget.”

Many years later, I still vividly remember that day. I always considered that the greatest compliment my dad ever gave me. On this feast day, reading how Jesus simply said “Mary,” I realized that God knew her so deeply that He engraved her name on His palm, just as my earthly father did for me.

Even more breathtaking is the realization that our Heavenly Father does this for each of us. He engraves the name of every single person in the world on His palm. I am beyond words. Thank you, Mary, for being an Apostle to all of us. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for calling my name. And thank you, Abba God, for engraving my name on the palm of Your hand.

Mary Magdalene, the patron saint of converts, perfumers, hairdressers, and repentant sinners, is honored across all four Gospels. Her encounter with the “gardener” takes on an even more vivid meaning when I think of our visit to Glamis Castle in Angus, Scotland. Inside the private chapel of the Queen Mother’s childhood home, a rare 1688 painting by Dutch Golden Age artist Jacob de Wet captures this exact Gospel moment. The artwork uniquely depicts Christ wearing a Dutch gardener’s hat and holding a spade. It remains one of only a handful of paintings in the world to show Jesus this way, serving as a striking visual reminder of the moment Mary heard her name spoken in the garden.