“All you need to remember is how it sounded when you stood in the place of death and heard the living call your name.” – Jan Richardson
After several trusted friends recommended it, I sat down for the first episode of The Chosen.
The series begins in 2 B.C. with young Mary in Magdala. Frightened and unable to sleep, she seeks out her father, who is outside the tent coughing. He comforts her with the words of the prophet Isaiah.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine.”
Years later, we see adult Mary awaken, covered in blood. The scene moves to a man reporting that he was nearly killed by a demon-possessed woman.
Nicodemus is called upon to perform an exorcism on this woman, now called Lilith, but it fails. The impact of complex trauma and loss lead “Lilith” to thoughts of suicide. Tormented by the kingdom of darkness, she considers jumping off a cliff. Desperate, she seeks soothing for her shame and distress in a tavern with a drink of alcohol.
A stranger touches her, and she flees, saying, “Leave me alone.”
The stranger follows her and calls:
“Mary…Mary of Magdala. Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name. You are mine.”
Mary gasps realizing that it is Jesus. He cups her face in his hands, and she begins to weep, collapsing into his chest.
Astounded, I rewind the scene five or six times before I utter a word. Eventually, Hannah, my daughter, asks why I continue to rewind and replay. Every part of my body aches for Jesus to call my name like that. I watch in awe of Jesus but also stunned by Mary’s response to Him.
When Jesus calls her name, the words penetrate the depth of her being and show how intimately He knows her. During a misogynistic time period, Jesus calls Mary’s true name in the darkness of night behind a seedy tavern in relentless pursuit of her heart.
His eyes see her glory and her truest nature standing in deep contrast to those around her who judged her and tried to fix her, even renaming her Lilith, meaning Night Monster.
When Mary recognizes his face, she lets down her guard and allows herself to be seen and loved. She drops her clay container of spirits and falls into his warm, sweaty body, an astounding act of vulnerability.
This scene gives me an imagination for what it means when Jesus calls me Rachel of Timonium. When He calls my name, He knows every contemptuous word I’ve spoken, the sexual secrets I’ve held, and the moments when I’ve felt alone. He knows the wounds my body has borne and the times I’ve shown courage, love, mercy, and good humor.
Sin and trauma often mar our true name, and evil seeks to change our identity. At times in my life, I have been renamed “Hypersensitive,” “Selfish,” “Hot tempered,” and “Dangerous.”
There is a war between darkness and light over my name.
Mary’s heroism is exemplified in her response to Jesus regardless of all of the ways men have dishonored her. She is open to his touch and his voice of love calling her true name despite every fleshly desire to cover herself, hide her glory, and live in resignation to the name Lilith.
Her courage inspires me and reminds me that Jesus is redeeming the heroine in me by changing my name from “Hypersensitive” to “Tender One” and “Hot-tempered” to “Truth Teller.” Together with Jesus and those closest to me, we can mine for glimpses of glory in places of darkness and pain.
Mary was not afraid to recognize her frailty and hunger. In an era of Instagram influencers, political polarization, and megachurches, her story demonstrates that everyday heroism comes through surrender, truth, and humility. Could it be that a true hero recognizes her weaknesses and opens herself up to the authenticity of embodied love rather than a quick social media hit?
The Kingdom of God is a reversal where death becomes a door to heroism. May we be courageous in listening for our true name in the midst of the darkest places of our lives. May we open our bodies and hearts to the love of people who remind us of our glory and speak it regularly, and may we do the same for others.
Rachel Blackston loves all things beautiful…rich conversations over a hot cup of lemon ginger tea, watching her three little girls twirl around in tutus, and Florida sunrises on her morning walks. She resides in Orlando with her lanky, marathon-running husband and her precious daughters, priceless gifts after several years of infertility. Rachel and her husband Michael co-founded Redeemer Counseling. As a therapist, Rachel considers it an honor to walk with women in their stories of harm, beauty, and redemption.
Thank you Rachel praying over you and your counseling in Orlando God bless
Colette, blessings to you as well. Thank you for care in reading and the gift of your prayers.
I have recently been pondering how I felt called to serve people who showed external poverty (homeless, disabled, etc.) only to realize I was actually being invited to touch my own inner poverty–trauma, betrayal, insecurity, etc. Your line,
“Could it be that a true hero recognizes her weaknesses and opens herself up to the authenticity of embodied love…” reminds me that, yes, true heroism is found in opening ourselves to our weaknesses–and unabashedly allowing ourselves to be loved into wholeness, as Jesus did for Mary Magdalene.
Madeline, wow, thank you for sharing how Jesus has been inviting you to recognize your inner poverty. It must take courage to expose those places and allow His deep love to penetrate and reveal the beauty and richness lodged there.
I’ve watched the scene you’ve described multiple times, too. We all have the desire to be seen and known, and Jesus is the answer every time. Praise God He calls us by name! Praise God we are redeemed and His! Loved your reflections, Rachel. Thank you.
Debra, yes to our longing to be seen and known. I loved hearing how this scene touched you as well! Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment. May we continue to walk in the hope of our true names!
Thank you, Rachel. That scene had a similar effect on me. I was (still am) sobered by this witness to the power of being fully seen and known, and loved so dearly in spite of it all. Mary had likely been passed around and used like the cups in the tavern she frequented – a reality in which her lack of autonomy over her body and her very survival led her to desperate actions – things she probably never imagined she could do when she was a little girl. That the tender mention of her real name by the One who pursued her could bring her back to her true self, is astounding and familiar. I am grateful to be reminded of this today.
Jill, thank you! Beautiful to hear how this scene resonated with you too! Yes, like “cups in the tavern she frequented – a reality in which her lack of autonomy over her body and her very survival led her to desperate actions.” That is a powerful metaphor of the cup that shatters at the sound of His voice. Thank you for being the type of woman with ears to bravely listen to His voice when He calls out your true name.
Rachel, your writing pierces my heart today with hope and light. “The Kingdom of God is a reversal where death becomes a door to heroism.” Stunning truth. Thank you. Christine
Christine, your encouragement always blesses me. Thank you.
You highlighted “the war between light and darkness over our names”, our calling- the true, light-filled version of who God wants us to be. As Moses was someone who sought to free others but chose to do so in violent ways before God called him by name. Something happens to us when he says our NAME. And still a war rages. But when we hear our name we know the war isn’t fought alone. So perfectly timed. Thank you.
Amy, thank you for reading and letting my words impact…and yes…“Something happens to us when He says our NAME.” May we have ears to hear what our hearts longs for!
Rachel- this piece is stunning as always! That scene… gah! I too watched it over and over. You write with such vulnerability and truth. Thank you for the ways you have continually challenged me to be courageous in excavating the deep places of my heart to know my true name. I love your voice abs writing friend. Rockstar!
You my friend are a gift! Thank you for the ways you call out my true name. May we with dusty hands continue to excavate together!
Rachel, I, too, loved this scene in The Chosen. There is something in my heart that longs to know I am seen for who I am, not for what I do or for how others perceive me or for how I perform to their expectations of me. I’m mesmerized and drawn to humble truth tellers and awed by their courage to be vulnerable and real because I, too, long to have the courage to be vulnerable and real with others. One of the lines that resonated with me was, “that everyday heroism comes through surrender, truth and humility.” You are a hero, Rachel. And how kind you are being to yourself that you are renaming the labels others have placed upon you. Blessings to you Rachel.
Barbara, tears as I take in the kindness of your words. You are a brave, generous, “glory see-er.” As always, thank you for living as a woman with an open heart who freely gives.
I, too, watched the scene in “The Chosen” multiple times. It finally came to me while reading your story today – I kept watching it because it was a visualization of how my soul feels when Jesus calls my name. We’ve been told all our lives to “ask Jesus to come into our hearts.” That’s all well and good. It was a “sit down and hold your chest moment” when it came to me that asking Jesus into my heart pales into comparison to realizing/accepting we have a uniquely designed place in Jesus’ heart; a place with our “real” name on it.
“I have called you by name. You are mine.” I am His, and He is mine.
Powerful. Thanks for sharing, Rachel of Timonium.
Akayaya, wild how you too watched this scene multiple times! You so brilliantly put words to the difference between inviting Jesus into our hearts and knowing we have a uniquely designed place in His heart, a place inscribed with our “real” name on it. May we have the courage to believe and respond to this name! Blessings to you and thank you for your kind words.