Archive for May, 2008

Some of you might remember the brief publicity just over a year ago regarding the publication of a text called “The Gabriel Vision” (Hazon Gabrile) by Israeli scholars Ada Yardeni and Binyamin Elitzur (Cathedra 123 [2007]: 155-166 in Hebrew). Prof. Israel Knohl of Hebrew University wrote a fairly extensive article published in the Israeli newspaper HaAretz, that summarized his own reading and interpretation of the text. He has now published a more scholarly exposition in the current issue of the Journal of Religion and has arranged for a link to the PDF file of his article to be downloaded from the Shalom Hartman Institute Web site where he is a research fellow.

The text contains two partially preserved columns of Hebrew written on stone. It has been dated to the late 1st century BCE, or the early 1st century CE, on linguistic and paleographic grounds respectively by Profs. Bar Asher and Yardeni respectively. Prof. Yuval Goren of Tel Aviv University has apparently confirmed the stone’s authenticity

Knohl finds confirmation in this new text of his position that the notion of a “slain messiah,” and more specifically, the Messiah son of Joseph figure alluded to in later Talmudic writings, dates back to the 1st century BCE, and accordingly, predates the views of a suffering messiah associated with Jesus. Knohl had argued a version of this thesis before the Gabriel text came to light, in his book, The Messiah Before Jesus (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000; now out in paperback), that just happened to coincide with the publication of Michael Wise, The First Messiah (HarperOne, 1999). Neither knew the other was working on his book and yet they both argued, on different grounds, from the Dead Sea Scrolls and other texts, that the notion of a “suffering messiah” was not an early Christian invention but was “around” at least as early as the 1st century BCE in certain Jewish sectarian circles. Somewhat earlier, I remember Michael Fishbane’s provocative paper at the Princeton Conference on Apocalypticism and the Millennium in 1996, “Midrash and Messianism: SomeTheologies of Suffering and Salvation,” as well as my own contribution, dealing with some of the same elements, “Patterns of the End: Textual Weaving from Qumran to Waco.” Both are now published in the volume edited by Peter Schaefer and Mark Cohen, Toward the Millennium (Leiden: Brill, 1998): pp. 70-71; 409-430, respectively. A version of my paper can be downloaded at my UNC Charlotte Web site.

Knohl’s interpretation of the new Gabriel text rests on a skillful textual reconstruction of a text that is poorly preserved and difficult to read in places. He then seeks to position his readings in the context of late 2nd Temple Jewish messianism(s) with all their complexities. Now that he has put his views forward in a scholarly article it will be most interesting to follow the discussion of other experts in the field.

I heard Prof. Knohl read a paper at the Princeton Theological Seminar on Christian Origins in Jerusalem in January, dealing with views of Jewish Burial and Afterlife in the Late 2nd Temple period. Prof. Knohl’s paper focused on one aspect of the Gabriel text, and his reading thereof, namely the nature of the concept of “resurrection of the dead” in various Jewish apocalyptic circles of the period. According to Knohl’s reading, lines 80 of the Gabriel text should be read:

By three days–live, I Gabriel command you, prince of princes, the dung of rocky crevices.”

The three day statement is surely fascinating in the light of Jewish views of the afterlife, but even more interesting is that this particular corpse, that Knohl identifies as that of the crowned Jewish rebel leader Simon, killed in Transjordan in the 4 BCE revolt following the death of Herod the Great, is spoken of as “dung” in the rocky crevices where he was slain. Knohl’s main point at the conference was that the Jewish idea of “making live the dead” did not necessarily involve the revivification of a copse, as in this case one turned to “dung,” but rather a revived life in what would be potentially a “new body.”

I have recounted previously on this Blog the remarkable story of my discovery of the late great Poet James Whitehead and his historical and literary interest in the sources that refer to Jesus of Nazareth as “Yeshua ben Pantera.” Whitehead, who died in 2003, co-founded the prestigious Creative Writing Program at the University of Arkansas with colleague and poet William Harrison. He was a wonderful poet and novelist who left many unpublished works behind due to his untimely death. Among those were his poems on “The Panther” as he called them.

Whitehead had first encountered the “Yeshua ben Pantera” references in the writings of historian Morton Smith. Whitehead ended up traveling to Germany in search of the tombstone of the 1st century Roman soldier Julius Abdes Pantera, who was from Sidon in Palestine. He ended up writing a remarkable set of poems that imagined the relationship between Jesus’ mother Mary and Pantera, who became the father of her firstborn son Jesus. As it turns out, Whitehead was not the first poet to be captured by the Panthera story. Thomas Hardy had published a long and passionately composed poem titled “Panthera.”

Just last month a lovely chapbook version of Whitehead’s Pantera poems was released by Moon City Press, edited by Michael Burns, a student of Whitehead and Professor of English at Missouri State University. It is titled simply The Panther. Prof. Burns asked me to write the Introduction, offering an historical context for Whitehead’s fascination with the Panthera story. He also shared with me a few of Whitehead’s poems. I found them profoundly moving and I was more than pleased to have a small part in the production of this wonderful project. This was one of my favorites, in which Whitehead imagined the angel Gabriel appearing to Panthera in Germany where he was stationed, just as Jesus was achieving some fame in Galilee:

GABRIEL VISITED ABDES PANTERA,
DISPLAYED HIMSELF AND SPOKE TO HIM,
BUT THERE WAS NO RESPONSE
OF ANY KIND. FIGURE WHY.

Wearing my specialty wings, the ruddy ones,
Cinquecento, I stooped through April rain
To just above the Rhine at BinKerbruck,
Shrugged, continued motioning gracefully

Toward the bowyer-archer on his shingle,
Who was done with practicing his shots
From shore to shore.
He didn’t seem to see me,
But maybe he would listen

To the four languages I knew he knew—
Sidonian Aramaic, Levantine Greek,
And of course his soldier Latin,
And finally the local whitebread German tongue.

I was so fluttering because he’s beautiful
In the sturdy way of soldier artisans—
He’s a master of composite bows,
The seven woods, sinew, bone and glue.

O I was positive he’d love the news
And the flashing bearer of it: I’m GABRIEL!
HAIL ABDES PANTERA! YOU THE MAN!
YOUR SON IN GALILEE IS MAGICAL.

I offer it here as a small taste of the wonderful talents and imagination of James Whitehead. I urge my readers to order a copy of the complete collection, it is truly an elegantly crafted work, outside and within, and reasonably priced at that. You can obtain copies for $15.00 (Missouri residents add 39¢ sales tax) plus $4.00 shipping. Checks should be made out to Missouri State University. Please order copies from the following address: Moon City Press, Department of English, Missouri State University, Springfield MO 65897. If you have had the slightest fascination with the Pantera story I know you will not be disappointed.

Of all the controversial elements in my book The Jesus Dynasty, my treatment of the Pantera traditions is perhaps the most disturbing to some Christians. I really regret that this is the case. As I have argued elsewhere, if Joseph was not Jesus’ father, and the “illegitimacy” tradition has some historical legitimacy, we can not dismiss the possibility that Jesus’ father was named Pantera. This would not have to imply something sinister or immoral, see my post “Joining the Slanders.” In fact, if Pantera were close to the age of Mary when she became pregnant he would not have even been in the Roman army at the time. We will never know the details, but as I have asked–why imagine the worse? In fact, there is some emerging evidence that Pantera was a family name and he was actually related to Mary.

I have posted quite a few other entries on this Blog related to many aspects of the Pantera discussion. Here are some of the main posts for easy reference:

Pantera as a Real Name

The Pantera Traditions

More on the German Tombstone

An Unnamed Father of Jesus

In the meantime I hope my readers will order the Whitehead book of poetry and let their imaginations have a role as we wonder about the “earthly” father of Jesus.

I want to highly, even extravagantly, recommend a book by Barrie Wilson, York University professor in Toronto, titled How Jesus Became Christian (New York: St. Martins Press, 2008; Random House in Canada). I will go so far as to say that I judge this single book to be one of the most important contributions to an understanding of Christian Origins published in many decades. Prof. Wilson’s book represents an absolute “sea change” in our understanding of how one moves from the historical Jesus (Jewish Prophet, Charismatic Healer, Teacher, Messiah figure), to the new religion called Christianity, created by the apostle Paul and given a definitive stamp of approval by what became the “standard story” of Christian Origins preserved in Luke-Acts.

Books that explore the “From Jesus to Paul” theme are quite common in the scholarly field: From Jesus to Paul (Klausner); The Mythmaker: Paul and the Invention of Christianity (Maccoby); From Jesus to Christ (Paula Fredrikson); From Jesus to Christianity (Michael White); Paul: Founder of Christianity (Lüdemann); and Paul the Convert: The Apostolate and Apostasy of Saul the Pharisee (Segal), to name a few more recent titles. However, in my view, Wilson has advanced the discussion miles beyond any previous work with his daring hypothesis regarding the stark and uncompromising dichotomy between what he calls the “Jesus Movement” and the “Christ Movement,” created and espoused single-handedly by the apostle Paul. Wilson goes a long way to putting an end to the wishful thinking that there is somehow some kind of continuity between Paul and his “gospel” and the message of James, Peter, and John, and those early Jewish followers of Jesus commonly known as “the Jerusalem Church.”

Wilson’s writing style is clear, his documentation is impeccable, and he makes his case with a strength and a level of persuasiveness that in my judgment leaves counter proposals in the wayside. The book is already a best-seller in Canada and it is beginning to climb the charts on Amazon in the U.S. Prof. Wilson also has a Web site, with many features and additional materials including an interview and Blog. The Toronto Globe and Mail had this to say in a recent review:

Jesus the Jew and the Christian Coverup:
HOW JESUS BECAME CHRISTIAN
By Barrie A. Wilson
Reviewed by Allan Levine
March 22, 2008

Forget about Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code and fictional conspiratorial machinations about whether Jesus and Mary Magdalene had children, Barrie Wilson has produced a significant and sensational work of scholarship. And it is truly religious dynamite.

Acknowledging Jesus’s Jewish background is nothing new, but arguing, as Wilson does, that Christianity is largely the result of a deliberate and deceptive manipulation is more intriguing and contentious. “Jesus never converted to another religion,” Wilson claims. “Nor did he start one. If he were to return, he’d probably be amazed – perhaps bewildered or possibly even angry – at what has been created in his name.” Adding for good measure that, “of all the Jewish males who ever lived, Jesus was by far the most influential.”

A professor of humanities and religious studies at York University in Toronto, Wilson has drawn on decades of his own research into the history of early Christianity and, like the superb teacher he must be, invites readers to accompany him on a wondrous journey back in time to understand Jesus’s life, the ordeal of being a Jew in a world ruled by Romans, the construction of the New Testament, and the powerful forces that have transformed Western civilization.

Admittedly this is no easy task, but he pulls it off brilliantly. He is an academic who can write for a non-specialist audience and does so exceptionally well – guiding, explaining Scripture, and even creatively integrating imaginary newspaper columns and blogs into his prose. All of which brings Jesus and his epoch alive.

Using an array of biblical sources, both Jewish and Christian, he builds his case step by step, searching for clues in the Gospels, offering concise summaries, and posing difficult questions – many of which, he concedes, cannot be answered. We do not know, for example, the precise details of Jesus’s day-to-day life – his emotional state or the real reasons he opposed Roman rule – and probably never will. But it is possible to offer reasonable and intelligent speculations based on solid research. That is what Wilson does very well, and by the last page he has convincingly made his case.

The short version of Wilson’s thesis, which he calls the “Jesus Cover-Up Thesis,” is this: The spiritual figure that billions of Christians worship worldwide as the Son of God was, in fact, a Jew, a rabbi, and a revered teacher of the early first century who obeyed and championed the Torah. Jesus (or more accurately in Hebrew, Yehoshua or Yeshu) prayed in synagogue and urged his followers to adhere strictly to Jewish law. Only in this way, he promised, would the Kingdom of God become a reality. Wilson probes the Jewish roots of the Lord’s Prayer, the Sermon on the Mount and the Last Supper (which is more commonly recognized as a Passover seder, although there were likely many more people in attendance than the 12 disciples portrayed in Leonardo da Vinci’s celebrated painting). In Wilson’s view, Jesus wanted to improve Jewish life, not abolish it. He did not proclaim himself to be a “Christ” figure or a “Son of God.” That came later.

Living as second-class citizens in their own country and dominated by a foreign power in Rome, Jews needed hope and Jesus provided it. His growing number of followers began to think of him as a “potential Messiah.” Led by Jesus’s brother, James – whose writings until recently have been largely ignored – these Jews established the “Jesus Movement.” After Jesus was killed by the Romans, in about 30 AD, they waited for him to return to create the promised Kingdom of God.

With James’s death in the early 60s, the Jesus Movement suffered a leadership crisis, and in Wilson’s words, was eventually “upstaged” and “hijacked” by the Christ Movement launched by Paul of Tarsus, a Hellenized Jew living in the Jewish Diaspora. The two movements should have remained separate and parallel religious sects, but subsequent events changed this. Paul did not know Jesus, yet nevertheless linked him to the Christ Movement. In the process, he tore Jesus from his Jewish roots.

Wilson shows that the most significant development in this synthesis occurred 60 years after both James and Paul died and was accomplished by the unknown author of the Book of Acts (part of the Gospel of Luke). This new “take” on Jesus was so credible that, as Wilson puts it, “we tend to think of Paul’s Movement as just another form of early Christianity. It wasn’t. It was a brand-new religion entirely.” It was thus what Wilson terms “Paulinity” – “a Hellenized religion about a Gentile Christ [and] a cosmic redeemer” – rather than the Jewish-inspired religion of Jesus, which was embraced by the Gentiles of the Roman world in the period from the second to the fourth centuries.

The New Testament is not a neutral document. The Gospels and other writings are arranged in a particular order to give weight to Paul’s interpretation of the link between the Jesus and the Christ Movements. Moreover, it was not sufficient for authors of several Gospels to distance Christianity from Judaism, they had to vilify it: Jews became equated with Satan. According to Wilson, this made the cover-up complete. The devastating result was religious anti-Semitism and the perpetuation of the accusation that the Jews killed Christ.

In fact, it was only one Jewish sect, the Sadducees, who turned against Jesus. They wanted to maintain the status quo with the Romans and feared that Jesus’s preaching about a Kingdom of God and altering the world was dangerous. Once the Romans accepted Christianity, it was not possible to blame them for Jesus’s death, so the Jews were identified in the Gospels and later Church decrees as the true evil murderers of the Son of God. Centuries of persecution followed.

One major reason, Wilson notes, for the hostile reaction to The Da Vinci Code was “its suggestion that Jesus was human.” And that criticism was levelled at a novel. Wilson’s firm belief that Christianity must refocus on the human and Jewish Jesus and accept the truth of the cover-up is sure to generate an even greater controversy.