Legend of the Magdalene

A Short Story

Looking over the Sea of Galilee, a man is drawing crowds to be baptized in the water.  “As an outward symbol of the change of mind, each person is submerged and reemerges with a new outlook on life.”  That is what John the Baptist taught, he was a close friend. For many hours we held discussions about the scriptures and prophecies of the coming Messiah.  

Youthful in his mid thirties, John reminds me of an angel crying out in the desert. He taught about the love of God and said “the Dove would be around the Messiah when he comes to be baptized.” 

The following weekend, a stir came through town when Immanuel of Nazareth returned from many years away. Immanuel returned for my brother Lazarus’ wedding. My name was Mariamne Arria, Granddaughter of Queen Mariamne, some called me the Magdalene.  The last time I had seen Immanuel, he was twelve and leaving to travel with his uncle on the caravan routes of the East.  He promised to find me when he returned, and here he was out of the blue. 

During the wedding celebration, Immanuel and I danced.  His presence made my heart pound with excitement; each dance step pulled us closer. We sang songs of hope. Our hearts began beating as one. Near the end of the party, he turned water into wine, his first public miracle. From then forward we spent all of our time with each other, inseparable. The land of Israel was under strong occupation by Rome. 

One afternoon we walk to the beach to listen to John speak. Immanuel said they were cousins and he wanted to surprise him. As we approach, John says loudly to the crowd, “Behold, it is the Messiah with the Dove at his side! Can you see the angels ascending and descending above them?”  

Immanuel was baptized by John. Later John joined us for dinner at the family’s home in Bethany.  Immanuel told us about his travels, and the Kingdom of Heaven. I took notes of the discussions. Immanuel’s teachings were so beautifully spoken, they touched the soul and lifted it up to Heaven.

 Word came after two years that John was in prison, Herod was going to kill him.  I went to the prison to visit John; he had been beaten terribly. I cleaned his wounds and applied herbal salve to stop infections. He took my hand and said “Maryim, your heart is pure. Stay with Immanuel, for you and he will carry forward the line to Judgment Day. Don’t be concerned about the whore dancing my head on a silver platter for Herod, the work I had to do here is finished; God’s glory will shine through.  We live to serve him.”  John had seen the end of his days clearly, and like Immanuel chose not to be afraid. 

Traveling by foot through mountains and deserts, Immanuel and I went through every town and village we were drawn to. His Apostles followed and learned the great wisdoms to share with the people of the Harvest. Eleven of his apostles were men, and I, a woman was the twelfth. His men were honest and capable, but a few of them didn’t like my presence; “What is she doing here?” they would ask.

 “She is my wife and best Apostle.” Immanuel would answer.  Shielding me from their lack of understanding, he says “They are used to only men being leaders – pay them no mind. Men and women are both equally capable of fulfilling God’s Plans.” 

The first Passover brought us to Jerusalem, Immanuel rode in on a donkey. He said that no one had the right to turn the Temple into a market; then quickly went through the outer Temple turning over money changers tables, scolding the ones selling doves and animals, and kicking over the ceremonial washing barrels, spilling water all over. Boy, were those rabbis mad, but they didn’t dare do anything, they knew he was right. 

Our marriage was perfect, between us we had no issues.  The blissful happiness of being together while leading children and adults to Heaven seemed too good to be true.

After tens of thousands of miracles, the third Passover took him away again.  My heart was whipped and beaten because the devils gained control of the people. Tears fill my eyes again as I look. 

After Passover dinner, Immanuel and his Apostles relaxed in the Garden of Gethsemane. The traitor Judas was on his way to pay our Passover fees, and give away the location of Immanuel for thirty silver coins reward. The apostles sat in groups under trees discussing the evening’s teachings. After two hours, the eleven men were sound asleep from the meal and wine; only Immanuel and I were awake. 

I found him sitting under an olive tree overlooking the valley and mountainside. He pulls me close and says, “Maryim, soon they will take me away and cast my body as sacrifice.  But do not let this stop you from believing I will return in three and a half days victoriously.” The visions of what is to come on the cross pass before our eyes.  

Immanuel says, “You are five months pregnant, to be the mother of our child soon. Let us make this a joyful time before suffering comes forward.” We hold each other close and go to God’s domain together in spirit. The angels greet us with visions of victory over the devils during the three and half days.  Resurrection is destined, he has undeniable confidence he will return. Kissing his cheek, I say, “As your bride, I will remain with plenty of lamp oil for the groom’s return.” 

The murderers came in the night to steal away my husband. The Apostles gathered in front of the police and rabbis to protect Immanuel. The police move in after Judas gives away his identity. Peter draws his sword and cuts off the ear of one of the men. Immanuel steps forward saying, “No Peter, it is not to be this way.” He puts his hand over the missing ear, healing it back perfectly. They take him away. 

Begging the Court to release him, I am promptly tossed out the door.  His Apostles wait together deciding the plan of action. Though Immanuel and I are not physically together while he is beaten in jail, I can see what is happening to him.  Chained to a wall, bloody and beaten, my heart is torn with pain. Prayers to God are all we can share. 

The verdict of death and the parade of the cross were almost too much to bear witness to, but I could not leave my husband alone to die.  I knew he would return, there was nothing going to keep us apart during his hardest trial in life.  Tears welling, heart crying returns watching the devils treat the King of Heaven in such a dastardly way. 

As they put the cross in the air, wailing commences in the crowd at the foot of the hill. Gabriel appears to comfort me. He lifts me up to God’s Throne.  Immanuel is sitting next to God, it is as though we were together again. I leave the foothill of death to consol his mother during this time.  His brother James arranges with the Roman Centurion to bring Immanuel’s body to the family burial cave at sunset. James (also called Joseph of Arimathea) and I clean Immanuel’s wounds and wrap his body in linens soaked in herbs. After we leave the cave, several Roman guards come and roll a giant rock in front of the opening. 

For three and a half days, it takes all of my energy not to cry and be sad. The only consolation I have is the promise of his return; waiting patiently every hour creeps by.  At sunrise of the morning foretold, I ran to the cave to find Immanuel. The rock was rolled to the side, and near the entrance a man stood looking over the hillside. I asked him “Where have they taken my husband?”

 “Mary, don’t you recognize me?” The man asked as he removed the covering over his head. I reply, “My love! I knew you would be here.” He touches my hair and says, “Don’t hug me yet, for my transformation has not yet been completed. Now, go to the other Apostles and tell them what you have seen.” My heart is filled with joy, he has come back safely.

 Immanuel returned completely restored, the only scars that remained were on his hands. We lived in private from then on, raising our child together. He would meet with the Apostles regularly, guiding their ministries, but no longer went into the public, he left that for the Apostles.

 A time came when it was too dangerous to remain in Israel, so Matthew, James, Salome and I traveled throughout Rome and Egypt, later landing in France. Immanuel would spend many days away from Earth, traveling with the Sons of Adonai.  We remained connected in heart and mind, no matter the distance between us.  

Raising our children became a combined effort. We traveled throughout France, Spain, Europe, Scotland and Syria preaching the Words that Immanuel had taught us.  We established our own communities of Christians,and helped each other with the responsibility of teaching everyone to focus on God.

 France was a nice land, they allowed my ministry and many thousands were taught about Christ’s life and the path to Heaven.  James and I traveled to Scotland, his name became Joseph of Arimathea and we set up many churches together in Europe. Eventually our lines became the magical kings and teachers. 

My father’s family was from Syria, so I traveled there frequently.  It was on one such journey that I learned about the goddess Ashterah; many people spoke about her in this land. They listened to my explanations about pagan worship being wrong, and converted to a belief in the One God, who’s first born Son came teaching about love. 

Later in life, I made the journey to Rome to help the brothers with their ministries. We would rally large crowds in the streets and perform miracle healings while teaching about God in Heaven. Arrested and thrown in jail for inciting freedom of thought, I waited on the island of Patmos for an audience with Emperor Tiberius.  During this /prison term I received the visions of Revelation. Immanuel would arrive in spirit to visit and showed our return in the future, right before the Judgment. 

Eventually, Tiberius realized I was of royal blood (my mother was from Israel’s ruling line) and invited me for a meal to discuss Christ’s life and teachings.  Sitting at the feast table, I lift an egg and say, “As surely as this egg will turn red, Immanuel lived, was killed and returned from the dead.” The egg immediately turned blood red.  Tiberias was convinced. Many were witness to the power of the One God that evening.  He gave me a rolled parchment paper with his insignia seal, decreeing I was allowed to travel anywhere in Roman Territories.

 Back in France, the southern mountains were home. A cave in the hillside was where I wrote the Gospel, Testimony and Revelation, as well as an entire library of spiritual books.  People would arrive frequently to be healed and ministered to.  A spring near the cave gave fresh water for baptisms.

 The moment I awoke every morning, immediately all thoughts were toward serving God Almighty, day and night. Greeting the angels when the gateways of light were opening in the mornings to sing praises to our Lord in unison, and then listening for His response to echo from wherever He was at the moment, still fill memories of that lifetime. 


At the end of life, Immanuel lived aboard the heavenly spaceship and I lived in the French hillside.  We spent many hours together each day in spirit, helping the needy and establishing Christianity. My own legacy was a system of goodness, using love to teach about the origins and destiny of mankind. Together we spent every breath bringing our Father’s children to the entrance of Heaven, because a final Judgment will come. It was our responsibility as the King and Queen of Heaven to bring the children Home, back to our Creator. 

The text represents the point of view of the author

Marie Black

Marie Black

Marie Black has over 30 years of psychic skills training and use. PSYCHIC WARFARE Civilian consulting experience through a TOP SECRET Paranormal Research Project. She is a professionally trained clairvoyant, clairsentient, clairaudient, and telepathic consultant who can see the truth about anyone or any subject. Her business background includes several successful startups, education of large groups, innovative healthcare research, and community based projects.

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