The testimony of Scripture stands unshaken: Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and the unnamed woman in Luke 7—described only as a sinner, her tears and contrition forming the core of the episode. These women, each marked by unique encounters with Christ, deserve to be seen in the light the Gospels cast upon them—distinct in identity, united in their love for the Lord.
When Pope Saint Gregory the Great, who reigned from 590 to 604 AD, in his Homily 33 on the Gospels, asserted:
“She whom Luke calls the sinful woman, whom John calls Mary [of Bethany], we believe to be the Mary from whom seven demons were ejected according to Mark. And what are these seven demons, if not the universality of all vices? Since seven days suffice to embrace the whole of time, the number seven rightly represents universality. Mary had seven demons in her, for she was full of all vices. But now, having seen the stains that dishonored her, she ran to wash herself at the source of mercy, without blushing in the presence of the guests. So great was her shame inside that she could not see anything outside to blush.”
He initiated the long-standing conflation of Mary Magdalene with Mary of Bethany and the unnamed woman of ill repute in the house of Simon the Pharisee which, for centuries, has been repeated in homily, iconography, and tradition. Yet the serious and devout reader of Sacred Scripture—especially when guided by the Douay-Rheims translation, the teachings of the Fathers, and the structure of sound ecclesiological discernment—must eventually confront a pressing question: Are these three women truly one? Or have centuries of pious conflation obscured the integrity of the sacred text?
The modern mind might be tempted to dismiss such distinctions as pedantic or overly analytical, but each person who encountered Christ forms a distinct facet in divine revelation. When Scripture records such persons with intentional naming, spatial grounding, and action-specific narration, the distinctions matter. They become essential not merely for academic purposes, but for an accurate meditation on the grace and mission of Christ, and the living memory of the Church He founded.
Mary Magdalene, according to Luke 8:2, is she “out of whom seven devils were gone forth.”
Mary Magdalene, according to Luke 8:2, is she “out of whom seven devils were gone forth.” This is the first direct mention of her, and it comes after the well-known episode in the previous chapter in which an unnamed sinful woman washes Jesus’ feet with her tears and anoints them with ointment in the house of Simon the Pharisee (Luke 7:36–50). This woman is introduced only as “a woman that was in the city, a sinner” (Luke 7:37). Luke names neither Magdalene nor Mary of Bethany in that episode. Nevertheless, for centuries this woman was taken to be Mary Magdalene—whose prior sinful life was assumed to be that of a prostitute—and then was also conflated with Mary of Bethany, sister of Lazarus.
Yet consider the sequence and geography of the Gospel. Luke 8:1–3 introduces Mary Magdalene among several women who followed Christ after He preached in “every city and town.” She is grouped among those healed, suggesting her association with Christ occurred only after that event. It is an interpretive leap—not based in the text—to assume that the unnamed sinful woman of chapter 7 is the same woman healed of seven devils in chapter 8. The inspired author makes no such connection. Furthermore, Luke’s pattern of narrating makes use of thematic groupings, not necessarily strict chronology. Still, he introduces Mary Magdalene only after the event in Simon’s house, which weakens the argument for their identity.
The woman in Luke 7 is unnamed, known simply for her sin, for her courage in entering a Pharisee’s house, and for her gesture of love. The narrative structure would have flowed naturally had she been named earlier [as Mary Magdalene] and then identified as the one from whom devils were cast out. Yet Luke keeps them separate.
The woman in Luke 7 is unnamed, known simply for her sin, for her courage in entering a Pharisee’s house, and for her gesture of love. Her story centers around forgiveness: “Many sins are forgiven her, because she hath loved much” (Luke 7:47). This is not the vocabulary used to describe Mary Magdalene in Luke 8. The key identifier for Magdalene is not love or forgiveness, but exorcism: the seven devils cast out by Christ. If these were the same woman, would the evangelist not have made the connection plain? Moreover, the narrative structure would have flowed naturally had she been named earlier and then identified as the one from whom devils were cast out. Yet Luke keeps them separate.
Turning to Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, we find her first mentioned in Luke 10:38–42, in a separate context entirely. Jesus enters “a certain town” and is welcomed by Martha into her house. Mary, her sister, is portrayed not as a sinner, nor as one from whom demons were expelled, but as a model of contemplative discipleship. “Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:42). This Mary is not scandalous, not dramatically rescued. She is serene, interior, present. The house of Martha and Mary is evidently a place of peace and hospitality, not social shame. Can one truly reconcile the image of a woman formerly known as a public sinner and possibly a prostitute with this scene of familiar tranquility and spiritual intimacy?
Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, is first mentioned in Luke 10:38–42, in a separate context entirely.
John’s Gospel adds depth to the identity of Mary of Bethany. In John 11:1–2, she is introduced as “Mary, whose brother Lazarus was sick” and further identified as the one who “anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair.” This is sometimes used as an argument for her identification with the woman of Luke 7. Yet John’s reference here is anticipatory—the anointing he describes occurs in chapter 12, after Lazarus has been raised. The anointing at Bethany, described in John 12:1–3, takes place in the house of Lazarus, six days before the Passover, and is an act of loving devotion. Mary of Bethany takes a pound of ointment of “right spikenard, of great price,” and anoints Jesus’ feet. Judas, not Simon the Pharisee, objects. There is no indication here that this woman is known for sin or forgiven sin. The focus is not repentance, but anointment in advance of his burial. The full passage narrates the scene:
“Jesus therefore, six days before the Pasch, came to Bethania, where Lazarus had been dead, whom Jesus raised to life. And they made him a supper there: and Martha served: but Lazarus was one of them that were at table with him. Mary therefore took a pound of ointment of right spikenard, of great price, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the odor of the ointment. Then one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, he that was about to betray him, said: Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor? Now he said this, not because he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and having the purse, carried the things that were put therein. Jesus therefore said: Let her alone, that she may keep it against the day of my burial. For the poor you have always with you; but me you have not always.” (John 12:1-8)
Thus, the timeline becomes critical. If Mary of Bethany were also the sinful woman of Luke 7 and also Mary Magdalene, then her transformation from scandalous woman to model contemplative would have had to be rapid, widely accepted, and publicly lauded—even by Pharisees, who otherwise would have rejected a house where such a woman lived. But when Lazarus dies in John 11, “many of the Jews were come to Martha and Mary, to comfort them concerning their brother” (John 11:19). This kind of public mourning and visitation—especially from religious Jews—would not have been offered to a known prostitute or demoniac. The implication is that Mary of Bethany was respectable, known, and loved in the Judean community. This would be impossible had she been known to have lived a dissolute life or to have had seven devils cast out of her.
Further, the term “Magdalene” itself points to a geographical identity: she is “of Magdala,” a fishing village and a trade center located on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee. This naming convention—Mary called Magdalene—functions like other Gospel identifiers: Simon of Cyrene, Joseph of Arimathea, Judas Iscariot. Mary Magdalene’s name fixes her identity and origin, just as “Mary of Bethany” identifies the sister of Lazarus. No Gospel calls Mary of Bethany “Magdalene,” and no Gospel calls Mary Magdalene the sister of Lazarus. These are mutually exclusive identifiers.
None of the Pre-Nicene Fathers conflated Mary Magdalene with Mary of Bethany or the sinful woman of Luke 7.
This geographic difference is important. Bethany is just outside Jerusalem, on the southeastern slope of the Mount of Olives (relatively close to the Mount of Olives, just outside the city walls and on the same ridge). It was a place Jesus frequently stayed. Magdala is far north, in Galilee. Mary Magdalene follows Jesus from Galilee, along with other women, “ministering unto him of their substance” (Luke 8:3). There is no mention of Bethany or familial ties with Martha and Lazarus. For the two Marys to be the same, one must assume she traveled between two homes and bore two entirely separate identities: a Galilean woman following Christ as an itinerant disciple, and a Judean woman embedded in a household known and respected by the Jewish elite. This is improbable, and no scriptural text affirms it.
None of the Pre-Nicene Fathers conflated Mary Magdalene with Mary of Bethany or the sinful woman of Luke 7. In fact, the Eastern Fathers (like Origen and later Chrysostom) generally maintained a distinction between the figures. The conflation arises mostly in the Western (Latin) tradition, becoming influential with Pope Gregory the Great (Homily 33) around 591 A.D.
Some might argue that the assertion given by Pope Gregory the Great’s in his homily in which he identifies all three figures as the same woman settles the matter. Yet even great saints and popes can err in interpretation when not speaking ex cathedra. Let us review the specific passage, in Homily 33 on the Gospels, Pope Gregory asserts:
“She whom Luke calls the sinful woman, whom John calls Mary [of Bethany], we believe to be the Mary from whom seven demons were ejected according to Mark.”
But he immediately continues with a spiritual reflection, not a scriptural exegesis:
“And what are these seven demons, if not the universality of all vices? Since seven days suffice to embrace the whole of time, the number seven rightly represents universality. Mary had seven demons in her, for she was full of all vices. But now, having seen the stains that dishonored her, she ran to wash herself at the source of mercy, without blushing in the presence of the guests. So great was her shame inside that she could not see anything outside to blush. She brought an alabaster vase full of perfume, and standing behind Jesus at her feet, she began to water them with her tears and to wipe them with the hair of her head; and they kissed them, and sprinkled them with perfume. “It is very evident, my brethren, that this woman, formerly addicted to forbidden deeds, had used perfume to give her flesh a pleasant odor. What she had shamefully granted to herself, she now offered to God in a manner worthy of praise. She had desired the things of the earth by her eyes, but now mortifying them with penance, she was crying”
Gregory is here moralizing, drawing out a symbolic reading rather than making a precise historical identification. The problem is compounded when he conflates Mary of Bethany with the unknown woman who washes Jesus’ feet, while rightly identifying Mary of Bethany with the “alabaster vase full of perfume” in agreement with the witness of John the Apostle in the above citation of John 12:1-8.
The theological tradition based on his homily, while venerable, cannot override the specificity of scripture. Since according to scripture, Mary of Bethany while anointing Jesus’ feet is not identified as the one out of whom seven demons were exorcised, but whom Luke clearly identifies as Mary Magdalene, in Luke 8:2.
Dealing with the conflation of Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and the anonymous sinful woman in the homily of Saint Pope Gregory the Great poses a challenge, but an even greater obstacle is posed when the Church presents this very conflation in her official liturgical celebration of the Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene. At first glance, one might reasonably argue that lex orandi, lex credendi—the law of prayer is the law of belief—must apply, thus granting theological authority to what the liturgy proclaims. Yet before concluding that the matter is thus irreversibly settled, we must carefully examine the historical, textual, and theological development of the orations assigned to this feast. What initially appears to be an unsurpassable obstacle may in fact reveal itself to be a pious accretion, shaped by devotional currents rather than apostolic witness. In the paragraphs that follow, we will lay out why this liturgical identification, though venerable, does not withstand the scrutiny of Scripture, the patristic tradition, and sound theological reasoning.
Jerome’s attention to the differing gestures—the anointing of the head versus the feet—and his moral reasoning based on the dignity of Christ, argue forcefully for separating the identities of the women involved.
The conflation of Mary Magdalene with Mary of Bethany did not originate with the early Church or the apostolic deposit of faith, but emerged more clearly in the 8th to 9th centuries, when the Frankish liturgical tradition began supplementing the Roman Sacramentary with additional Masses and feasts. These expansions were made under the influence of Carolingian rulers seeking greater liturgical uniformity across their realm and were not based on exegetical clarity, but on devotional trends that had already begun to blend the identities of Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and the unnamed sinful woman of Luke 7. This conflated image found liturgical expression in the proper Collect (Oratio) for the Feast of Saint Mary Magdalene, which became standardized in the Roman Missal following the liturgical reforms of Pope Pius V in 1570 after the Council of Trent. The Collect prayer, as it appears in the pre-1962 Roman Breviary, reads:
“Laetemur, Domine, in beatae Mariae Magdalenae solemnitate: cujus precibus exoratus, quartuor dies fratrem Lazarum jacentem in monumento vivum ab inferis suscitasti: Qui vivis et regnas…” (“Let us rejoice, O Lord, on the solemnity of blessed Mary Magdalene, by whose prayers You called her brother Lazarus, lying dead in the tomb for four days, back from the underworld to life: Who livest and reignest…”).
This oration explicitly identifies Mary Magdalene as the sister of Lazarus, demonstrating how the liturgical text preserved what can be considered a theological error born of tradition (lower “t”), not revelation. In this case, lex orandi is demonstrably not lex credendi, because the content of the prayer contradicts both Scriptural evidence and the earlier, more careful distinctions made by figures such as Origen, Jerome, and John Chrysostom. The liturgical text thus enshrines not apostolic faith, but a mistaken medieval synthesis, underscoring that not all elements of the liturgy reflect doctrinal precision, especially when they emerge from uncorrected pious tradition rather than sound exegesis.
Ultimately, the Gospel’s consistency in naming, action, geography, and tone testifies against the conflation. Mary Magdalene was from Magdala. She had seven devils cast out of her. She followed Christ from Galilee and was the first to witness the Risen Lord. Mary of Bethany was the contemplative sister of Martha, living near Jerusalem, whose house Jesus loved to visit. The unnamed sinner of Luke 7 remains unnamed—perhaps so that every penitent soul might see herself in that act of brave love.
St. John Chrysostom in his Homilies on John distinguishes Mary the sister of Lazarus emphatically as:
“It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment. Here some doubting say, How did the Lord endure that a woman should do this? In the first place then it is necessary to understand, that this is not the harlot mentioned in Matthew 26:7, or the one in Luke 7:37, but a different person; they were harlots full of many vices, but she was both grave and earnest; for she showed her earnestness about the entertainment of Christ. The Evangelist also means to show, that the sisters too loved Him, yet He allowed Lazarus to die. But why did they not, like the centurion and the nobleman, leave their sick brother, and come to Christ, instead of sending? They were very confident in Christ, and had towards Him a strong familiar feeling. Besides, they were weak women, and oppressed with grief; for that they acted not in this way as thinking slightly of Him, they afterwards showed. It is then clear, that this Mary was not the harlot.”
Chrysostom, in other words, upholds the honor of Mary of Bethany, insisting that she cannot be confused with the woman whose prior reputation was so scandalous.
Indeed, the absence of dogmatic assertion across the early Church suggests that this conflation was never apostolic teaching, but a later tradition of convenience or devotional focus. The early Church remembered Mary Magdalene as a repentant sinner and the “apostle to the apostles,” the first witness to the Resurrection (John 20:1–18). Mary of Bethany, meanwhile, was remembered as the sister of Lazarus, who listened with rapt attention to the Word Incarnate. The sinful woman of Luke 7 was remembered for her great act of repentance and love. Each is a different thread in the tapestry of grace. Each deserves her own name, her own honor, and her own place in the history of salvation. Yet a careful consideration of both Scripture and the commentary of the Church Fathers, as preserved and presented by Saint Thomas Aquinas in his Catena Aurea and his Gospel commentaries, strengthens the case for their distinction.
Origen, a towering figure among the early exegetes, is recorded in the Catena Aurea in the pericope of Matthew 26:6-13 favoring a tripartite distinction. He writes:
“Someone may perhaps think that there are four different women of whom the Evangelists have written, but I rather agree with those who think that they are only three; one of whom Matthew and Mark wrote, one of whom Luke, another of whom John.”
This careful differentiation affirms the presence of more than one Mary or penitent figure and clearly avoids a simplistic conflation. Origen does not presume that these are all the same woman, and he bases his reflection on the integrity of the individual Evangelists’ accounts.
Let us not blur their lives for the sake of a pious tradition, but receive each one as she is given to us in the sacred text and the earliest Fathers’ faithful witness, thereby honoring the careful work of the Holy Spirit in the shaping of the Gospel memory.
St. Jerome, whose biblical scholarship is unmatched in the Latin West, reinforces this distinction with greater clarity. He writes, when addressing the passage of Matthew 26:13 the following, as recorded by Aquinas:
“For let no one think that she who anointed His head and she who anointed His feet were one and the same; for the latter washed His feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair, and is plainly said to have been a harlot. But of this woman nothing of this kind is recorded, and indeed a harlot could not have at once been made deserving of the Lord’s head.”
Jerome’s attention to the differing gestures—the anointing of the head versus the feet—and his moral reasoning based on the dignity of Christ, argue forcefully for separating the identities of the women involved.
The Gospels themselves testify to the separation of these episodes. In Luke 7:37–38, a woman known to be “a sinner” enters the house of Simon the Pharisee, weeping, and washes Jesus’ feet with her tears, wiping them with her hair, kissing them, and anointing them with ointment. Her identity remains unnamed, and her act flows from repentance and public contrition. In contrast, John 12:1–3 describes Mary of Bethany, six days before the Passover, in the house of Lazarus, where she takes “a pound of ointment of right spikenard, of great price,” and anoints Jesus’ feet—not from tears, but from reverence and love—wiping them with her hair. Her action is not penitential, but prophetic. Jesus Himself interprets it as an anointing “against the day of my burial” (John 12:7). These are not the same woman, nor the same context, nor the same theological emphasis. One is an anonymous penitent in Galilee; the other is Mary of Bethany in Judea, a beloved friend of the Lord.
These testimonies from the early Fathers of the Church, collected and preserved by Aquinas, reveal a measured and careful tradition that does not universally accept the conflation of all three women. Aquinas himself never dogmatizes on the matter, which in itself is telling. He presents multiple views and gives special attention to those Fathers who sought to protect the unique dignity and narrative integrity of each figure. If Origen, Jerome, and Chrysostom—three of the most influential and scripturally grounded Fathers—refused to collapse Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and the penitent woman into one identity, then the modern reader has every reason to heed their caution.
Thus, we find that even among the early interpreters closest to the Apostolic Tradition, the pieces never fully aligned into one figure. The testimony of Scripture stands unshaken: Mary Magdalene is named as the one from whom seven demons were expelled and is tied to Magdala, a Galilean town. Mary of Bethany is the contemplative sister of Lazarus, residing near Jerusalem in a home frequented by Christ and respected by the Jewish elite. The unnamed woman in Luke 7 is described only as a sinner, her tears and contrition forming the core of the episode. These women, each marked by unique encounters with Christ, deserve to be seen in the light the Gospels cast upon them—distinct in identity, united in their love for the Lord.
Let us not blur their lives for the sake of a pious tradition, but receive each one as she is given to us in the sacred text and the earliest Fathers’ faithful witness, thereby honoring the careful work of the Holy Spirit in the shaping of the Gospel memory. Let us honor each Mary not in confusion, but in the clarity and richness of their own God-given story.
