Quite to the contrary, she was smart, tough,
a street person, probably quite physically strong,
capable of surviving the very dangerous and often
deadly activities in the streets of Alexandria.
But make no mistake here, Mary of Egypt was a
very formidable woman who had been hardened by
a very harsh life. of living conditions on the
streets of Alexandria. But little did she know
that in the very sinful harshness of that life,
God was preparing her for a future life of extraordinary
deprivation and asceticism. Yes, God had prepared
her for the challenge of a life of repentance
in the desert. She began that life as a lark,
really, a frivolous kind of activity, finagling
her way onto a ship of pilgrims bound for Jerusalem
for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross.
So from that, we know that it was probably the
end of September that she went to Jerusalem.
After partying in the streets for a few days,
she joined a crowd walking up toward the Church
of the Forerunner in Jerusalem, thinking she
would, oh, maybe I'll get a look at the church.
true cross of Christ. But she was prevented from
entering the church several times, not once,
several times, by a mysterious, what she described
as, force, a mysterious force. And it's at this
point that she begins her remarkable life of
repentance, standing beneath the icon of the
Theotokos and lamenting from the depths of her
heart her life. She asks permission, actually,
from the Theotokos to enter. And, most importantly
of all, she, one, vows to never defile her body
again, two, to renounce the world, and three,
go wherever the Theotokos tells her. Well, she
enters the church, venerates the cross, and before
leaving, she pauses again before the icon and
hears these words, If you cross the Jordan, you
will find glorious rest. And her response? Just
a short phrase. She says, O Lady, do not forsake
me. She crosses the Jordan the next day, and
for the next 47 years, that's right, 47, she
struggles in the most fearsome spiritual combat
imaginable. She's continually attacked by the
remembrances of her former life, its pleasures,
sensual temptations, the food and wine she said
she loved so much, the coarse, crude, ribald
street songs that she loved singing, and probably
more than all, I imagine, the false and very
seductive sense of unrestrained freedom. She
was tormented by cold, heat, hunger, thirst,
lack of shelter. And yet, with every attack on
her, she called on the Theotokos to help her.
During those 47 years, she never saw another
person or animal, so she said. During her first
meeting with Saint Zosima, he recognized her
as a... As a clairvoyant, she was able to tell
him things about his life that she had no possible
way of knowing. He observed her when she prayed,
levitating off the ground. This actually made
him afraid. He thought he didn't know whose presence
he was in. But as he heard her story, he realized
he was in the presence of great holiness. At
their second meeting, to give her communion,
As per their agreement, she joined him from the
other side of the Jordan River by walking across
the water to him. And the third time he met her,
it was to bury her with the aid of a desert lion
who dug the grave in the hardened desert soil.
Her story was kept in the oral tradition of St.
Zosima's monastery, and it was written down eventually
by St. Sophronius, the Patriarch of Jerusalem,
many years later. Well, what can we say? This
is certainly one of the most extraordinary stories
of the Christian faith. But everything about
her life really was extraordinary. Extraordinary
sinning, followed by even more extraordinary
repenting. Surely, she was a type of that woman
that we heard of today in the Gospel of Luke,
the one who wiped the tears from Christ's feet
with her hair. And whom Christ said about, she
is forgiven much because, not that she sinned
much, but because she loved much. So we look
at this and we look at her life and I don't know
about you, but I think, well, what about us?
What about me? What about our lives? While some
of us may have sinned mightily, more than likely,
no one here, has repented mightily like this,
at least in the radical and profound manner that
she did. And really, you know, that's as it should
be. In our lives of comparative ordinariness,
let us remind ourselves that St. Mary's struggle
was certainly for her own salvation, for sure,
but it was also for us. That her crossing over
the River Jordan was also for us. Let's remind
ourselves that all of our circumstances are given
to us by God. And while they may appear very
common, even seemingly insignificant at times
compared to hers, that's as it should be. And
whether our sins be common or extraordinary,
that's really not the point. The point is our
Lord Jesus Christ gives us, through his love
and mercy and grace, the strength, the willingness
to struggle with our own difficulties and our
sins. And if we will listen carefully, the voice
of the Theotokos will direct us. in the way we
must go. And as St. Mary of Egypt, as a sure
example for us, let us, let us cross over the
River Jordan of our lives and go into that land
where we will also find glorious rest. Glory
to Jesus Christ.