The Jesus Dynasty / James Tabor

Few English readers of the New Testament are aware that the familiar name “James,” as it is translated in English, is actually the name “Jacob,” or Yaaqov in Hebrew. In other words James=Jacob. It is the same name. In Greek it remains Yakobos, which makes this point quite clear. The name itself occurs about 60 times in the New Testament and according to John Painter, in his worthwhile book, Just James, these occurrences break down into as many as eight different Jameses (or Jacobs): (1) Jacob the patriarch (Abraham’s grandson) in the Hebrew Bible; (2) Jacob the father of Joseph (husband of Mary, Matthew 1:16); (3) James the son of Zebedee, brother of John the fisherman; (4) James the son of Alphaeus (one of the Twelve); (5) James the less, son of Mary and Clophas; (6) James the brother of Joses/Joseph; (7) James, the brother (or father) of Judas (one of the Twelve Luke 6:16); and finally (8) James the brother of Jesus. This can all become rather confusing but I think we can bring some clarity to the data with a bit of examination.

The first three are without question different persons, and #3 is the well known Gospel character, James son of Zebedee, the fisherman. The possible overlap occurs with numbers 4, 5, 6, 7 & 8. Each seemingly separate reference to a different person could well be the same person, and I am convinced this is quite likely. Number four and five agree with the Clophas/Alphaeus scenario which I cover in chapter 4 of my book (possibly a wink to the reader, sons of Clophas/Alphaeus - “oh yeah him”). Number six fits in because the brothers of Jesus were James and Joses. Number seven is also the “other” James of the Twelve, and brother of Judas (and Jesus!), and number eight is clearly a representation of the brother of Jesus. Therefore, each of the Jameses listed here as #s 4, 5, 6, 7 & 8 are presented as being one individual represented in five contexts. It is confusing to readers today, but once the identification of this “second” or “other” James is made, these texts fit together rather well. If we leave out the Patriarch Jacob, and Jacob/James the father of Joseph, husband of Mary, that leave only TWO Jameses–James the fisherman and James the brother of Jesus. And that is indeed what we find in the letters of Paul as well as in the book of Acts–two Jameses not six. I not only find the economy of this interpretation convincing, it just makes the best sense to me of the various passages where these “Jameses” are mentioned.

James the fisherman apparently dies quite early on, beheaded by Herod (Acts 12). But what about the “other” James, the brother of Jesus, about which there is so much confusion. Two theories come to dominate in Christian theology, one being the eastern view and the other being the western. The eastern view holds Mary to be a virgin not only at the time of the birth of Jesus, but throughout her entire life. It goes on to portray Joseph as father of four sons and two daughters with another woman prior to his marriage to Mary. He becomes a widower, remarries, and thus brings these six children to the marriage. The western view is stricter in that it holds not only Mary, but Joseph also were strict virgins throughout their entire lives and neither of them ever had any children. These “brothers” and “sisters” are merely cousins, children of Joseph’s brother Clophas, but through another woman named Mary, not Mary the mother of Jesus. In The Jesus Dynasty I present an alternative view.

Jesus was the son of Mary, father unknown, but possibly one named Pantera. Joseph marries Mary but dies early leaving no sons behind. Joseph’s brother (possibly called James for his father), but nicknamed Clophas/Alphaeus, stepped in, as required by Jewish law, married Mary, Jesus’ mother, and they had six children–the four boys, James, Joses, Simon, and Jude, as well as two sisters, Mary and Salome (Mark 6:3). I am convinced, though some argue otherwise, that Clophas/Alphaeus comes from the Hebrew word Chalaf = replacer, to replace, to step in, one who replaces. I am further convinced that at least three of these brothers, and possibly all four, were part of the Twelve. In my thinking this particular theory makes the best sense of all the evidence we have, concerning the James, Alphaeus, Clophas, and the “two” Marys, whom I take to be one–the mother of Jesus.

Something of which I am more and more convinced is the paramount importance of James the brother of Jesus to the survival of the Messianic movement in the critical years following the tragic and brutal murders of both John the Baptist and Jesus. Of course, as readers of The Jesus Dynasty know, I am convinced that James was the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” the one who became head of family, leader of the movement, and dynastic successor to Jesus as next in line of the royal lineage of King David. Jesus died in the year 30 AD and the earliest written records we have of the movement come from the apostle Paul in the early 50s AD–twenty years later. The historian John Dominic Crossan called these twenty years the “dark age” of the Jesus movement in that we have no surviving records from those crucial years. What little we know is based on attempts to try to read back what we might possibly construct from later materials–the Q source, Mark and the Synoptic sources, the gospel of John, the book of Acts, the Didache, the letters of Paul, the letter of James, the gospel of Thomas, and other fragmented “Jewish Christian” sources (Hebrew gospels, the Pseudo-Clementines, Ebionite traditions, etc.). James is pretty much written out of the story and it becomes difficult to even imagine how vital he was to the survival and development of the movement in those first critical decades.

One speculation I find appealing is the idea that James and Jesus were very similar in looks, voice, outlook, and personality. In other words, after Jesus was gone the community found solace in the physical presence of James and in gathering around James it was as if the spirit of Jesus was still among them in the person of his brother. I have wondered whether the original idea now embedded in latter part of the gospel of John, about the “Comforter” coming, was originally referring to be James. The Greek word is Paraklete and refers to one who represents or advocates. Later Christians personified this one as the “Holy Spirit” but in the various passages found in the Gospel of John “he” is spoken of in a very personal way, in the masculine gender, very much as one would speak of a person. Jesus says of this one that he will be “sent in my name,” and that he will be a Teacher who will remind the community of all that Jesus has taught them. The Ebionites had this idea of the “Christ Spirit” that “hastened through the ages” and rested upon various ones in a successive way. In other words, the spirit of Truth, that was passed on from John to Jesus, was now being passed on from Jesus to James. Jesus tells them that this one “abides with” them and will be “among” them. This one will “not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.”

I am convinced that the earliest followers of Jesus and John regained their faith and resolve following Jesus’ crucifixion not by a spirit of ghost of Jesus appearing to them, nor by experiences of the resuscitated corpse of Jesus coming to life and living among them, passing through walls, and finally rising up bodily into the clouds into heaven, but by the living presence of James the beloved brother of Jesus and the spirit that he reflected and exhibited in those dark days of danger and disappointment when the scattered followers migrated back to Galilee after the Passover week ended. To have James with them was akin to having Jesus with them. In terms of historical explanations I think this one makes the most sense and it was James who led the group back to Jerusalem for the feast of Pentecost or Shavuot, 50 days after Jesus’ death, where they really began to consolidate things and found a new direction and hope for the expectation of the Kingdom of God to which they had dedicated their lives.

Paul does not show up with his version of the “visionary Christ” in heaven until at least seven years later and the story of how that version of things eventually dominated the story that was passed on down to us is one I will cover in the book on Paul upon which I am currently working.

One of the features that stands out in the teachings of Jesus, even at our earliest layers of tradition, are the notions of “love of enemies,” “bless those who curse you,” “turning the other cheek,” “going the second mile” and being “wise as serpents, harmless as doves.” One of the very few teachings of Jesus that Paul knows or at least quotes is “Repay no one evil for evil…never avenge yourselves…if your enemy is hungry feed him…overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:17-21).

Although some have argued that the historical Jesus was in truth a Zealot type who advocated the violent and revolutionary overthrow of the Roman and Jewish establishments (Brandon, Jesus the Zealot; Carmichael, Death of Jesus; Maccoby, Revolution in Judea) it remains the case that there is no evidence that Jesus gathered arms or raised a band of militants in order to threaten the authorities of his day, be they Jewish or Roman.

On the other hand he did indeed expect the sudden, violent, decisive, and bloody overthrow of the political powers of his day and the absolute overturn of the fortunes of the poor, the meek, the downtrodden, and the persecuted. Woe to you rich! Woe to you who laugh now! Woe to you that are full now!

I think there is a sense in which both perspectives have some important validity. Brandon, Maccoby, Eisenman and others have rightly emphasized that the image of the Jesus/James movement as a quietist, meditative, pacifist, “spiritual way” can be cast in a way that neglects the dynamic political and social contexts and implications of a proclamation that the Kingdom of God has drawn near. The focus of the apocalyptic message of the Kingdom of God was not that all things would be resolved in some afterlife or world beyond–but that the powers that be, the corrupt social, economic, and political forces that ran the country, and the world, were to be dramatically brought down. There is every reason to think that Jesus and his followers expected that overthrow and would have greatly rejoiced to see it come. There are lots of texts in the teachings of Jesus that deal with this dramatic time of judgment when what is up will be down, and what is down will be up.

The question then is one of how that overthrow is to come about, not whether it was expected, hoped for, and fervently desired. In the case of Jesus and his followers I think that the evidence does indeed indicate that they are not in the process of gathering weapons and making plans for a military coup against the Roman forces. But this is not to say that they were accommodating and quietist. Their sympathies would certainly have been with those who had tried, however unsuccessfully, to oppose the oppression and military occupation of the country. It came down to a matter of method–what did they think would lead to the desired results. What I argue in my book is that Jesus and his followers expected a dramatic intervention by God, and only with that could their hopes and dreams be finally realized. But that intervention was certainly not seen as a pacifist one–to the contrary heads would roll, governments would be overthrown, and the faithful followers of the Messiah/s would be put in charge of things through an overwhelming show of divine power.

The difference between MLK, Gandhi, and others who have practiced “passive resistence” in our own day is that Jesus and his movement expected and welcomed a very “violent” apocalypse in which heads would topple. These “Woes” that Jesus pronounced upon the rich, the persecutors, and those “laughing now” in the Q source (Luke 3:24-25) capture the flavor of this way of thinking quite well, as do lots of the parables that predict a sudden and abrupt calling of the wicked to judgment and a casting out of those wicked ones in power. John, Jesus, and James all believed fervently that there was to be a great reversal and God will imminently and swiftly bring it about. All the apocalyptic literature that we have from this period is violent to the extreme. Think of the “body count” in the book of Revelation alone. There is also a strong element of “rejoicing” on the part of the “saints” who see the Beast/Babylon go down. This is what Eisenman has rightly objected to in his insistence that the Jesus/James movement was not some quietist movement that had withdrawn from society into a contemplative Pythagorean or Buddhist-like aversion to this world. They were very much in this world and keen to see the “will of God done on earth as it is in heaven,” which would mean some very powerful forces of oppression and evil would have to be overthrown. The question is how this was to come about?

More to come on this topic and also the related idea of what Schweitzer called “interim ethics.”

In the Introduction to my book, The Jesus Dynasty, I offer a comprehensive discussion of the potential importance and significance of the ossuary or “bone box” inscribed “James, son of Joseph, brother of Jesus,” that came to public attention in late 2002. If authentic it offers us the first archaeological evidence ever discovered that directly links to Jesus and his family. This bone box most likely contained the skeletal remains of James the brother of Jesus.

In the summer of 2003 the Israeli Antiquities Authority declared that the inscription was a partial forgery, and that the phrase “brother of Jesus” had been added by the owner, Oded Golan, to enhance the potential value of the artifact. Without the phrase “brother of Jesus” the inscription “James son of Joseph” alone does not offer enough evidence to connect it to Jesus’ family.

Unfortunately there is an all too widespread public impression, echoed in some of the reviews and reactions to my book, that the “James ossuary” has been declared a forgery. I have encountered this repeatedly in recently touring the U.S., Canada, and the UK. Just this week someone posted a review of my book on the Amazon Web site that is typical of the ignorance surrounding this subject:

“Tabor’s “The Jesus Dynasty” starts off with some dubious archeology and that’s the high point of the book…Oded Golan, finder of the ossuary, is in jail. When the police invaded Golan’s home recently they found a large number of forgeries in various stages of completion. Even the carved pomegranate Golan sold to the Jerusalem museum is now deemed a fake. So much for the ossuary being real.”

Such is hardly the case. Mr. Golan is not in jail and his trial still in process. No one questions whether the ossuary is “real” or even the inscription, but whether the last two words are authentic or not. But more important recent scientific tests have seriously called into question the case of the Israeli government on the authenticity of the James ossuary inscription.

As is often the case, people “hear” or “read” something in a press report, then repeat it as fact without either checking for accuracy or keeping up with the outcome of a given story. Ignorance is bliss, as the old saying goes, but it seems to also give rise to a level of dogmatic ignorance that never ceases to amaze me.

The best overall source for the up-to-date facts regarding the matter of the authenticity of the “James ossuary” are the materials on the Web site of the Biblical Archaeology Society. All of the relevant sources are archived there, both those questioning authenticity as well as those supporting it. A quite balanced and comprehensive summary of the current state of the debate was recently published by Hershel Shanks in a Jerusalem Post editorial. Even though Shanks is cautiously supportive of the potential authenticity of the James ossuary inscription he has admirably included on this BAS Web site all points of view, pro and con.

It is regretable that self-declared experts feel free to pontificate about the “James ossuary” having been shown to be a forgery, apparently without having bothered to inform themselves on even the most basic elements of the discussion.

I have given permission for The Introduction to my book to be available free on the Web (but without the photos and illustrations). It offers a comprehensive overview of the information regarding the James ossuary that was available when I went to press last year. Since that time other facts have come to light, including the latest new scientific tests, with much more to come.

So, the next time you hear someone say, “Hey, don’t you know that the ‘James ossuary’ was shown to be a forgery and its owner Oded Golan a crook” you can set them straight and challenge them to educate themselves a bit before they speak and further perpetuate inaccurate information.

More than one evangelical Christian reviewer or reader of my book The Jesus Dynasty has objected to the exclusion of the so-called “miraculous” as a part of an investigation of the “historical” Jesus. As Christianity Today’s Darrell Bock put it: “James Tabor’s historical assumptions that reject God’s activity on Earth force him into odd arguments to explain the birth of Christianity.” Bock is referring particularly to my observation that historians assume that all humans have two biological parents and that dead bodies don’t rise to life. Ironically, to most historians the “odd arguments” are characteristic of those who take the assertions that Jesus had no human father or that he walked out of his tomb and ascended into heaven as literal scientific statements of fact. Whether I personally reject “God’s activity on Earth” is another matter entirely that I don’t address directly in my book.

My training at the University of Chicago was that of an historian, not a theologian or even a “Biblical Scholar” as such. My Ph.D. was not from the Divinity School but in the Division of Humanities. I worked broadly in the area study of “Ancient Mediterranean Religions and Culture” and more specifically within ancient Judaism and early Christianity. What I reflect in The Jesus Dynasty are the methods and approaches generally employed by most academically oriented scholars who work in these areas.

Doing the work of an historian is not “hard” science in the purest sense of the term, but none of us in the field would want it to be understood as “art” either, at least not in some wholly subjective sense. There is no doubt that historians often differ in their conclusions in important ways, and that “interpretation” of the data, how it is finally weighed and processed, is indeed a partially subjective process. I write about this in the “Conclusion” of my book. But when my students retreat into the subjective regarding some historical conclusion that I or others have reached, with the easy retort “but that is just your interpretation,” I encourage them to go beyond that kind of reductionism. History is not mere subjective interpretation. Ideally it is based on arguments and evidence and in the end a good historian wants to be persuasive. It is rare that historical conclusions close out any possible alternative interpretations, but the goal is to set forth, in the open court of reasoned argument and evidence, a compelling “case” for whatever one is dealing with. Even when we disagree we end up stating “why” we don’t find this or that argument convincing, or what we find weak in the assumptions of one with whom we differ.

As for sources, nothing is excluded and everything can be evaluated as long as it offers us some reasonable way to reconstruct the past. Historians love and welcome evidence. That is what we live on and we crave any new materials that can shed more light on what we know. But even our best sources, particularly the literary ones, are remarkably tendentious. Modern standards of argument and objectivity were unknown to ancient writers. Writing was more often than not a blatant attempt at propaganda and apologetics, and all the more so when it came to competing systems of religious understanding. Recognition of those factors is a vital part of every historian’s method. If we want to “use” Josephus we also have to give attention to what we know of him as a person, as a writer, what his tendencies are, what his competence was, and so forth. It is the same with the Gospels, with Eusebius, and with all the ancients texts that we have at our disposal. It is also the case that for many important questions related to Jesus and his movement we simply do not have good evidence and probably never will. As thankful as we are for what we have, whether textual or archaeological or myth or tradition, in the end we have to face our own limitations. So, just to take one simple example, if we want to speculate on the “lost years of Jesus” we can do so, but in doing so we acknowledge that we have so little to go on, especially if we confine ourselves to early material (say 1st century AD), that our attempts are educated guesses and creative reconstructions. I cannot prove that Jesus and his brothers worked in Sepphoris, but I think it is a likely possibility, given what we know. But the assertions that Jesus traveled as a child with his uncle Joseph of Arimathea to Britain, or that he studied in Egypt or in India, are based upon legendary materials far removed in time and place from his world. Or, what about the question of whether Jesus was married to, and had children with, Mary Magdalene, that is so much in the public mind these days based on the success of Dan Brown’s book and film? As Bart Ehrman and quite a few others have shown, there is little to no historical evidence supporting the idea in any early sources. The public has been geared to think of the suppression of evidence, usually with the Roman Catholic church being the culprit, but such grand “conspiratorial” theories have little basis in fact. What we do find characteristic of early Christianity, or more properly, “Christianites,” is a competing diversity of “parties and politics,” each propogating its own vision of the significance of the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth. All sorts of interpretations are offered of Jesus, but the question finally comes down to how convincing a given argument is to other historians who work in the field and know the materials.

As far as the subjects of the miraculous and the supernatural, historians of religions remain observers. We do not exclude religious experience in investigating the past. What people believe or claim to have experienced becomes part of the evidence. We can note that Mark reported that Jesus walked on water, and then we date and evaluate Mark as a source, just as we note the miracles that Philostratus claims for his contemporary hero Apollonius of Tyana, or that the story that Zeus fathered Hercules or that Romulus was taken bodily into heaven (see the materials at my University Web site on Heroes and Gods) Most scholars in the field would say that Jesus practiced “exorcism,” but what that implies about the reality of the demonic world goes beyond our historical methods. We know enough about human psychology and our modern controversies regarding psychic phenomenon to realize the complexities of drawing such conclusions. History and theology/faith do part ways in some of these areas. It is easy to hold that “God” can do anything, and thus argue for the acceptance of a male baby being born without male sperm, or a corpse rising after two or three days, but such claims are not the purview of historians and they run contrary to our human experience and a more rational scientific understanding of birth and death. Historians likewise deal with “beliefs” about the afterlife and the unseen world beyond, but without asserting the historical reality of these notions or realms. We can evaluate what people claimed, what they believed, what they reported, and that all becomes part of the data, but to then say, “A miracle happened” and claim it as historical fact, goes beyond our accessible methods. I don’t want to oversimplify things here and I realize that the question of “faith” and “history” and the assumptions modern historians make in terms of a so-called “materialistic” worldview can be challenged, even philosophically. But for the most part historians are willing to leave the “mystery” in, but in terms of advocating this or that view of the so-called “supernatural,” as an explanation, they properly, in my view, remain wary.

We will probably never know who Jesus’ father was, or what happened to the body of Jesus, but I prefer the “odd arguments” of the historian in investigating those matters, however inconclusive and speculative, to the dogmatic assertions of theology that are problematic from a scientific point of view.

In The Jesus Dynasty I suggest that the enigmatic figure in the Gospel of John, described as “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” or more commonly, the “Beloved Disciple,” is none other than James the brother of Jesus. This is the unnamed intimate who “lay close to the breast of Jesus” at the last supper, and the one to whom he passes on the care of his mother Mary, just before his death. He appears to also be the “eyewitness” source that lies behind the traditions now embedded in the Gospel of John (21:24).

The traditional view that the Beloved Disciple was the fisherman apostle John, one of the sons of Zebedee can be traced back as early as Irenaeus (c. 180 AD). Over the centuries various other candidates have been suggested including another John known as “the Elder,” Lazarus, and Mary Magdalene. Recently I have even seen speculations on the Web, doubtless inspired by the Davinci Code phenomenon, that an unnamed “son” of Jesus, whose identity had to be hidden, was the Beloved Disciple. Some scholars have viewed him as a literary construction representing the “ideal disciple,” with no specific identity. James Charlesworth surveys all the possibilities in his book The Beloved Disciple and in the end argues for the apostle Thomas.

The Gospel of John mentions the Beloved Disciple in only four scenes, all at the end of his narrative: at the Last Supper, at the Cross, at the empty Tomb, and on the Sea of Galilee after Jesus’ resurrection. Since he is never mentioned earlier we really have very little to go on. Here are the texts in the RSV translation:

1) John 13:23-25: One of his disciples, whom Jesus loved, was lying close to the breast of Jesus; so Simon Peter beckoned to him and said, “Tell us who it is of whom he speakings.” So lying thus, close to the breast of Jesus, he said to him, “Lord, who is it?”

2) John 19:26-27, 34-35: When Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home…But one of the soldiers pieced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water. He who saw it has borne witness — his testimony is true, and he knows that he tells the truth — that you also may believe.

3) John 20:2-8 So she [Mary Magdalene] ran, and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first; and stooping to look in he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. . . Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in. . .

4) John 21:1, 7, 20-24 After this Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he revealed himself in this way. 2 Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together…That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his clothes, for he was stripped for work, and sprang into the sea…Peter turned and saw following them the disciple whom Jesus loved, who had lain close to his breast at the supper and had said, “Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?” When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!” The saying spread abroad among the brethren that this disciple was not to die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he was not to die, but, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?” This is the disciple who is bearing witness to these things, and who has written these things; and we know that his testimony is true.

It is also possible that the Beloved Disciple is mentioned in John 18:15 though he is not given that designation: “Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. As this disciple was known to the high priest, he entered the court of the high priest along with Jesus, while Peter stood outside at the door. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out and spoke to the maid who kept the door, and brought Peter in.”

Based on these texts I would make the following points:

1. The Beloved Disciple is a male, not a woman, and since Mary Magdalene arrives at the tomb and then runs to tell Peter and this “other disciple” whom Jesus loved, the news of the empty tomb, “he” cannot be Mary Magdalene.

2. Anyone mentioned by name in the Gospel of John, and especially in these latter chapters, 13-21, is likely not the Beloved Disciple, on the grounds that his identity is being veiled not revealed with a name. That means we can eliminate those mentioned in John 21:1-2, as well Philip, Andrew, and Judas Iscariot.

3. If we accept the reference in John 18:15 as referring to our figure, the Beloved Disciple seems to have priestly connections in that he is able to get Peter into the courtyard of the High Priest’s house, knowing the woman at the door.

4. The Beloved Disciple takes Jesus’ mother Mary into his care, when Jesus as the oldest son of the family was formerly responsible for the family as function “head of the house.” He is officially designated as the “son” meaning that he is now to carry on the caretaker function for the household that Jesus no longer could do. Whether this scene at the cross is to be taken as historical fact or not, I think it nonetheless reflects a tradition that Jesus’ mother was passed into the care of one who became the “son” in charge of the family, including his mother. Obviously he is gone from the scene and someone has to take over in terms of leadership in the family and care for his mother.

5. The Beloved Disciple is present at the last supper, and thus, based on Mark at least, possibly one of the Twelve, though John does not specify this, i.e., that the meal was with Jesus and the Twelve alone. The description of this disciple “lying close to Jesus’ breast” at the Last Supper indicates an honored place of proximity and intimacy. Jesus loves all his disciples but this particular one has a special place.

I am convinced that these traditions in the Gospel of John refer to a real person, not a symbolic figure. He should be known to us in other texts and in early Christian tradition by name. If we eliminate characters who are named in these latter sections of the Gospel, particularly Lazarus, Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, Philip, Andrew, and James and John, the two sons of Zebedee, and Judas Iscariot, who is left?

Of the Twelve apostles it is noteworthy that the only ones not named in the Gospel of John are the “other” James, the “other” Jude, the “other” Simon, and Matthew. Jesus has three brothers: James, Simon, and Jude, as well as a fourth, Joseph. I think there might be some evidence, as I point out in the book, that Matthew also has the name Joseph. This silence seems more than incidental or accidental.

Given these factors it seems to me that James the brother of Jesus surfaces as the best candidate. He is the one who takes over leadership of the followers of Jesus. The “mother and brothers” of Jesus are mentioned in the book of Acts as if they are intact and together. To have some other individual such as Lazarus, or the fisherman John, now functioning as caretaker over the family, just makes no sense at all with James present and functioning as leader of the community. I present arguments in my book that James the brother of Jesus was one of the Twelve, and is referred to otherwise as “James the less,” or “James the young one,” who has a brother named Joses. Mark names “James and Joses” as the two older brothers of Jesus. James the brother of Jesus also is known for his priestly orientation, even though his mother is Davidic if Luke’s genealogy is her own. As I discuss in the book, that line has a strong component of priestly/Levite blood running through it, just as Aaaron married Elisheva, the leading princess of Judah. Hegisippus tells us that James wore the white linen of the priest, and a mitre of some type, and was allowed to enter the inner sanctuary of the Temple–perhaps as a representative of the Nazarenes. We also have the tradition in the Gospel of the Hebrews that James was indeed present at the last supper, and that Jesus handed over to him some kind of “garment” that signified his priestly office.

I think it likely that the community that ended up shaping the Gospel of John, as indicated in chapter 21:24, had access to eyewitness materials that originated with James the brother of Jesus. Much as in the case of the Gospel of Thomas, the final product that has come down to us is considerably expanded in Gnostic/dualistic directions and a heavy theological overlay. It is noteworthy that the Gospel of Thomas also highlights James as the one to whom Jesus had passed on his authority, even though in its present form this work seems far removed from the theological perspectives of the historical James. I think the same is likely the case with the Gospel of John.

Several more popular Evangelical Christian reviewers of my book, The Jesus Dynasty, have suggested that my method of using texts, both biblical and otherwise, is based on what they call “cherry picking.” The idea seems to be that one simply takes what one likes while discarding anything unfavorable to ones outlook or portrait of Jesus. The “picking and choosing” question is one that I get quite often, even from my beginning students.

All of us who work in the field are keenly aware of Albert Schweitzer’s apt observation that work on the historical Jesus often reflects the autobiographical proclivities of the researcher–in other words, people come up with the Jesus they want to find. This makes it all the more imperative that we self-critically clarify our methods and lines of argument. What can appear at first to be a rather arbitrary process, and one that might be directed by ones own presuppositions, actually turns out to be a rather controlled and disciplined scholarly process.

What I attempt to do in The Jesus Dynasty is to take the non-specialist reader into the more technical world of the biblical scholar and “walk one through” some of the methods scholars use as we historically analyze texts. Let me make a few points about this process and then offer an illustration.

First, historians do not privilege any texts, be they in or out of the Bible, as inherently reliable based on a view of divine inspiration. This method immediately separates historical work from theological work, in that theology, at least traditional Christian theology, begins with the assumption that the texts of the Bible are inspired and thus at some level “true” or at least “more true” than other writings of the time. For the historian there is a sense in which all texts are created equal and are therefore examined with the same methods of analysis. That does not mean, however, that some are not considered more accurate historically than others. For example, when it comes to reliable history or teaching of Jesus most scholars would not give as much weight to the Gospel of Thomas as the Gospel of Mark. Often this has to do as much with dating and chronology as to whether a text is “in” the New Testament or not. Thomas, like the newly published Gospel of Judas, dates from the late 2nd or early 3rd century whereas Mark was written around 70 A.D. Older is not always better, but when we have a text as old as Mark, we surely want to give it the priority that it deserves. On the other hand, many of us have become convinced that the Q source, which is now embedded in Luke and Matthew, as I explain in my book, is even older than Mark, and likely preserves for us a layer of the teachings of Jesus that might go back as early as 50 A.D. Chronology is not everything, but at least in the beginning we want to try to arrange our sources as much as possible in a chronological fashion, thus when it comes to Jesus we have: the Q source, Mark, Matthew (and Hebrew Matthew), Luke, John, the letter of James, the Didache, and Thomas. It is true that various scholars differ on how to date and value these materials. For example, John Crossan, in his important work, The Historical Jesus puts both the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Peter much earlier than I or many others would.

Second, it is important to try and detect the kind of editorial development that goes on in such a trajectory of texts. It is often not strictly chronological, but often it is. On the whole we can see, within the early Christian tradition, a tendency to make Jesus more divine and less human, to downplay the role of John the Baptist, and to mute or mitigate the role of James and the family of Jesus. What we try to do is to take all our sources and compare them side by side and then to draw conclusions, as much as we can, as to what is most likely closer to Jesus and what might be a later development. I offer many examples in my book, but here are a few to illustrate.

Matthew uses Mark as a source and he consistently “edits” him at crucial points. In Mark 10:17-18 a man says to Jesus “Good teacher, what do I do to inherit eternal life?” and Jesus rebukes him replying, “Why do you call me good, there is One who is good, God.” Matthew comes to that story and alters Jesus’ answer to read: “Why do you ask me about the good.” Here you can see that given Matthew’s more divine view of Jesus, he finds the wording of Mark troubling and freely edits it. When it comes to Q there are times when the Hebrew version of Matthew appears to be less edited than the Greek versions in either Matthew or Luke. A prime example is Matthew 11:11 (Luke 7:28) where Jesus declares that “among those born of women there is none greater than John.” This startling statement stands unqualified in the Hebrew version of Matthew preserved by Ibn Shaprut, whereas in Greek, both Luke and Matthew have the qualifying addition: “but nonetheless, the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” I am convinced that the latter is an editorial gloss that was added to soften the shocking implication that John the Baptist is then greater than Jesus. In such a case we often give the more difficult, or the more “primitive” reading more weight than what appears to be a later addition. The issue of Jesus being baptized by John is one of the clearest examples one can find of the unfolding tendency to elevate Jesus above John. Mark offers a straight account of John Baptizing Jesus, Matthew adds the lines in which John objects to doing this since Jesus is greater, Luke reports Jesus’ baptism and implies John did it, but never directly says so, and John drops the entire narrative account entirely. Most of us are convinced that this kind of evidence can not be dismissed as chance and it should not be ignored but carefully analyzed.

This entire process can appear to a casual reader as “picking and choosing” at will, but it is in fact a carefully worked out process. Throughout my book I constantly bring texts into the discussion and I try my best to bring the reader into the method of analysis so it is clear as to why certain texts and traditions are thought to be more historically reliable while others are seen as secondary. It is not a perfect lab science, but there is a method to what might appear to some to be “madness.” I want to invite my readers into the process of critical evaluation and reflection; the same process that I use with my students and that is commonly followed in advanced courses in universities when one deals with the historical Jesus. Once one carefully works through the arguments I present in The Jesus Dynasty I think one might find that what seems at first glance to be “picking and choosing” is actually a rather careful methodological attempt to sort through the sources in a responsible historical manner.

Tonight marks the beginning of Shavuot or Pentecost on the traditional Jewish calendar. Among other things, Jews look back on Shavuot as a celebration of the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai/Horeb, both the Ten Words spoken by YHVH directly, and the rest of the “book of the Torah” revealed to Moses in the mountain (Exodus 20-24; Deut 5-27).

One thing historians of religions often emphasize is that no religious tradition is a static monolithic entity. Whether we are talking about Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, or Islam, the varieties and diversity within each tradition are rich and complex. Judaism is no exception. In the time of Jesus, which historians often refer to as the “late 2nd Temple period” we find within the varieties of emergent Judaism multiple interpretations of almost every subject imaginable–the nature of God, the coming of the Messiah, free will and determinism, and explanations for the causes of sin, suffering, and evil. At the center of it all was the practical matter of how one is to observe and follow the Torah, or what was believed to have been the revelation of God to the people of Israel through Moses at Mt. Sinai. One of the things we most emphasize in courses on the “Judaisms” of this period is this matter of diversity as we see it reflected in the so-called Pseudepigrapha literature, the Dead Sea Scrolls, Philo, the Mishnah, and other rabbinic writings.

For a general overview of Judaism/s of this period I would recommend a few basic books:
Shaye Cohen, From the Maccabees to the Mishnah
James Vanderkam, An Introduction to Early Judaism
Seth Schwartz, Imperialism and Jewish Society: 200 B.C.E. to 640 C.E.

In my book The Jesus Dynasty I maintain that Jesus was and remained a Jew and never entertained the establishment of a new religion. In contrast, it was Paul who might actually be called the “founder” of Christianity, with its distinctive theological doctrines. Even though Jews disagreed on how one might reflect and live out all the teachings and commandments of the Sinai revelation, especially regarding what came to be called halacha (literally “the way” or “the walk”), that is how to fulfill the various commandments, in general religious Jews, who took seriously the revelation of Torah, agreed on the obvious point that Israelites of all persuasions were obligated to live according to the commandments in order to be faithful to the Covenant.

Historians and scholars seem to be in almost universal agreement that what is called “the Jesus movement,” as represented by the teachings of John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth, was a movement within Judaism/s of its time and is most properly understood in this way, rather than as a “new” religion, separate from the mother faith. Likewise, I think there is general agreement, as far as I am aware, that James the brother of Jesus, leader of the Jesus movement after Jesus’ death, remained an observant Jew himself (Acts, letter of James, Josephus, Hegesippus, etc.).

To be “observant” in this broader context does not so much imply a uniform “orthodoxy” such as later developed within Rabbinic Judaism, but that whatever one’s halachic view, one remained “in the camp” in terms of covenental identity with the Jewish people and a concerted attempt to embody the teaching and commandments of the Sinai revelation. Judaism, as it developed, was understood as a religion, a people, and a culture, so matters of “definition” could be quite complex, i.e., you could have one who was born as a Jew, spurning the religion, or living immorally, or even turning to another faith, and yet, technically, remaining “Jewish.” In the same way non-Jews might take up Jewish customs and observances and still, nonetheless, not be considered “Jews” in a formal sense. E. P. Sanders, in his book Paul, the Law, and the Jewish People, might be one of the best summaries of this entire matter. He exhaustively explores the various “Judaisms” of the period, showing ways in which they differed, but also what gave them their essential identity, something he terms “covenantal nomism.”

Non-Jews, in most of these forms of emerging Judaism, were not expected to “convert” to Judaism in order to have a spiritual relationship with God. They could function within the more universal “Noahite” covenant, and the notion and even social existence of the “righteous Gentile” or the “God-fearer” has been extensively documented, particularly during the late Roman empire. Here I recommend the monumental study of my teacher Louis Feldman, Jew and Gentile in the Roman World. One way of putting it was the adage “The righteous of all the nations will have a place in the world to come.” Jesus appears to share this openness to the non-Jew and the messianic vision of the Prophets was that all nations would learn to walk in the light of the Torah’s essential ethical teachings.

If Paul did indeed redefine the people of Israel (what he calls the “true Israel” ) as those who had faith in the heavenly Christ, thus excluding those he called “Israel after the flesh” from his new covenant, and if he also held the view that the Torah given to Moses was valid “until Christ came,” so that even Jews are no longer “under the Torah,” or obligated to follow the commandments or mitzvot as given to Moses but a new “Law of Christ,” then most historians have agreed that we are not merely dealing with a movement “within Judaism,” but the makings of a “new religion” that comes to be called Christianity. This is not to deny Paul’s “Jewishness,” in the cultural sense of that term. He surely believes in the God of Israel, Jesus as the Messiah of Israel, and the Torah and Prophets as Scripture. But in Paul’s thinking, instead of humanity divided as “Israel and the nations” which is the classic understanding of Judaism, we have “Israel, the Gentiles or “non-Jews,” and the new people called “the church of God.” This does not mean that Paul advocated immoral living, he surely did not. In all his letters he takes pains to enforce and reinforce the essential ethics revealed in the Torah as applicable to Gentiles upon his followers.

The rub comes for Jews–if it is now okay for a Jew who is “in Christ” and thus part of this new spiritual Israel, to fail to circumcise his or her children, to ignore observance of the Sabbath and the festivals, to eat anything set before them, and to generally “live as a Gentile” in terms of observing such marks of Torah observance then Paul’s position takes him outside of “Judaism” or observant Torah faith. Such a view implicitly leads to the abolition/replacement of the mother faith. It was upon that basis that the entire super-sessionist/replacement idea that became so current in Christianity developed. Paul takes the position in Romans 9 that any Jew who does not share his faith in Christ is “lost” and cut off from God, no matter what might be his or her spiritual devotion, Torah observance, or even reliance upon the grace of God. In recent times Lloyd Gaston, John Gager, and Krister Stendahl have argued that Paul’s “abolition of the Torah” was only directed to those in the Jesus movement who sought to force Gentiles to convert to Judaism. I am convinced that they are wrong. Alan Segal, in his important study, Paul the Covert: Apostle or Apostate, sucessfully demonstrates that Paul’s message does indeed represent a departure from standard from of Judaism.

Then there is also the matter of “justification by faith.” Judaism in all its forms has taught that all humans are sinners and can only be accepted in God’s eyes through repentance and faith. Psalm 51 would be the most classic expression of this, the Thanksgiving Hymns in the Dead Sea Scrolls reflect the same for the Qumran community, as srict was they were in their legal interpretations, and Rabbinic literature reflects the same. As a Jew Jesus expressed these very ideas when he speaks of the two men praying in the Temple, one of them a “sinner” who smites his breast and turns to God, and is thereby “justified,” and the other self-righteousness, thinking he had no need of justification. E.P. Sanders is very good to make it clear that the notion that Christianity depends on “grace” and Judaism on “works” is a terribly unfortunate misunderstanding of Judaism. What divides Paul from Judaism is his insistence that this grace bringing justification is only extended to those who accept his Christ faith.

With these three elements based on Paul’s perceptions and heavenly visions: a new definition of Israel, the abrogation of the Sinai covenant, and the restriction of God’s grace to those who “accept Christ as savior,” we truly have a “new religion” and by no theological, cultural, or historical definition could it properly be called “Judaism.”

I went to see the DaVinci Code film yesterday and it has been much on my mind since. As one who has been quite critical of the book I came away very positively impressed. It is, of course, highly dramatic, fast-paced, with MI and James Bond kinds of elements—chase scenes, impossible escapes, murders, and a constantly shifting plot—which one would expect for a film of this type, built upon the book which many people found hard to put down. But given its genre, from start to finish I thought it was exceptionally well done and that it effectively conveyed its central message regarding the humanity of Jesus. I highly recommend this film.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the historical errors that were in the book, and that have been correctly and endlessly pointed out by scholars such as Bart Ehrman and Ben Witherington, were either corrected, considerably softened, or even eliminated entirely. For example, the false claim that the divinity of Christ was invented by the emperor Constantine at Nicea in 325 AD is spouted by the character Teabing but then disputed by the main character, Prof. Langdon, who argues that such ideas came in much earlier. When the Gospel of Philip is quoted, just at the part about Jesus kissing Mary Magdalene often on the ________, Teabing’s reading is interrupted so we don’t get the word “mouth” inserted. The text itself has a break just at that point, and Brown had been criticized for adding the word “mouth,” as some translators have done, in order to imply something sexual. I notice probably a dozen more places like this where the film was trying to be more accurate and more balanced than the book. Apparently Ron Howard, I assume with Dan Brown’s approval, was trying to be responsive to some of the legitimate criticisms of the book in terms of its factual errors.

The film and the book are of course works of creative fiction and I remain unconvinced that there is any solid historical evidence that Jesus was married or sexually involved with Mary Magdalene and had children with her. It is not that I find the idea offensive or shocking in any way. I just think it lacks any historical source. That is not to say that the Jesus family has no offspring today, since we do have evidence that James and the other brothers, and we might assume Jesus’ sisters as well, were married and had children, the descendants of whom are surely on the planet today. It has also been demonstrated that the entire notion of the Priory of Sion, made famous by Baigent’s Holy Blood, Holy Grail, is a fictitious creation based on a hoax. I suppose there is a “danger” that the masses of readers and film goers exposed to The DaVinci Code story will naively believe it is the truth. But the interviews I have seen seem to indicate that people are aware of the fictional nature of the story. Surely the Christian opponents of the film have worn themselves out pointing out these elements to any who will listen, as a simple Google search on the Internet will abundantly demonstrate.

Frankly, these fictional elements do not overly worry me because I think the film on the whole conveys an important message loud and clear—that Jesus of Nazareth was an extraordinary teacher and prophet, but a human being, not a God—and that the recovery of his humanity can free Christianity of a wrong turn it took many centuries ago and allow us to discover him anew and hear his message unclouded by theological dogma. Since the primary purpose of my own non-fiction book, The Jesus Dynasty, is to give the reader a glimpse at the historical Jesus as a human being in his own place and time, I found that element of the book, and particularly the film, to be laudatory, and in some sense, complementary, to my own work. Also, the film speculates on the possibility that the DNA testable remains of the Jesus family might indeed be found, and as far-fetched as that might sound, if the ossuary or “bone box,” that came to light in 2002, inscribed “James son of Joseph, brother of Jesus” turns out to be authentic, such an option might be possible. The latest on this subject is conveniently archived at the Biblical Archaeology Web site and I relate the story of the dramatic discovery of this artifact in the Introduction to my book.

Of course there are millions of Christians who believe that the salvation of their eternal souls depends on faith in Jesus as God, but if people are willing to educate themselves regarding the origin and development of this idea it would open the way for Jesus as a Jew who honored the One God of Israel and quoted the Shema to emerge from obscurity. Such an insight can in turn lead to a new type of devotion to Jesus more in keeping with his own message. The essential Jewishness of Jesus is a theme that scholars have abundantly explored now for over 100 years, but without really penetrating the wider public consciousness.

The ending of the film, when Prof. Langdon and Sofie Neven share their parting thoughts and carry on their extended conversation about Jesus Christ and his place in history, I found to be moving and well executed. It had an emotional impact on me beyond what I felt in just finishing the book. There was a message there, loud and clear, and I think it offers possibilities for a more informed and historical view of Jesus and even for the notion of the “miraculous,” that modern people can live with without checking their intellects at the door of their churches.

From London, Early Wednesday AM, April 26th…

Those of you who have finished reading my book know that at both the beginning, in the Preface, and at the end, in the Conclusion, I try to bring a bit more of my personal self into what I intend to otherwise be an academically based study on the historical Jesus.

This past Sunday at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco I was vividly reminded of how important this element is, and how important the topic of Jesus is, to our diverse society. I was the guest of the Dean of the Cathedral, the renowed Dr. Alan Jones (see his inspiring new book, Reimagining Christianity: Reconnecting your Spirit without Disconnecting your Mind) in his Forum series.

We had a standing room only crowd that turned out to be a nice mixture of Christians of all persuations, Jews, Muslims, and the unaffiliated, whether secular or otherwise. We did a Question and Answer session between the Dean and me, then opened things to the floor as well. I should point out that Dr. Jones and I are at very opposite poles on many issues, including our evaluation of the message and mission of the Apostle Paul. And yet, despite our differences it was an altogether lovely time of civil discussion and learning. At one point Dr. Jones recommended that everyone who reads The Jesus Dynasty, pay careful attention to my Conclusion to understand more of where I come from as an author who does indeed have some rather unconventional things to say about the development of Christianity.

This warm and engaging audience was my first chance to do a bit of testing of my more controversial ideas with a large and diverse group. I found the whole experience quite profoundly moving and meaningful. I have loved Grace Cathedral for years, since I lived in California in the 1970s and Bishop James Pike was making his own kind of waves.

The full forum is archived at the Grace Cathedral Web site: The Forum

James Tabor