Da Vinci Code

[Guest guest]

Jesus Out of Focus

The DaVinci Code is raising issues that go to the heart of the

Christian faith—and it's starting to confuse us all.

by M. Burge | posted 05/18/2006 09:30 a.m.

While visiting relatives in northern Sweden last September, we flew

from Stockholm to Luleå. Then we drove to Piteå, a small town far

from any tourist itinerary (and 100 miles from the Arctic Circle). I

found Piteå's one bookstore in the town market, entered out of

curiosity—and there it was, a full display, spilling over with Dan

Brown's The Da Vinci Code in Swedish. Here among the reindeer and

lingonberries, Swedes were preparing for their long winter with

copies of Da Vinci Koden.

The book has been translated into 43 languages since being published

three years ago. Now Hollywood is hoping for similar blockbuster

status for its heavily hyped movie starring Tom Hanks, now in

theaters.

Though the general public is fascinated with the book's conjectures,

The Da Vinci Code has merely brought into the open a heated

discussion among scholars that is at least 50 years old. Among Dan

Brown's more controversial claims are these:

Jesus had an intimate relationship with Magdalene.

Jesus and Magdalene were husband and wife.

Jesus and Magdalene had children.

Church leaders (some mysterious Catholic order) hid this secret.

Long-suppressed Gospels—such as the Gospel of , the Gospel of

, and the Gospel of Philip—now are finally telling us the

truth.

These claims are not being made only by agnostics and " liberals. "

Recently, in a basic New Testament class at Wheaton College, a

sophomore presented me with the February 27 edition of Time. An

article described a " long-lost second-century Gospel, " the Gospel of

Judas, that promised to unveil new secrets about Jesus. Later that

same hour, another student asked, " I've read that the Gospel of

and the Gospel of are similar, so if is trustworthy,

why not ? " Welcome to the new world of New Testament studies.

An Old Battle

Since the earliest years of the church, Christian leaders have had to

confront rival accounts of Jesus' life. These were Gospels that

refashioned Jesus' life, often giving it a spin palatable to the

Hellenistic trends of the day. From about A.D. 125 to about A.D. 600,

people with active religious imaginations wrote numerous Gospels. As

Origen of andria wrote in his Homily on Luke, " The church has

four Gospels, but the heretics have many. "

In some cases, we know about these writings through the refutation of

church leaders. Orthodox writers cite the Gospel of the Hebrews, the

Gospel of the Nazareans, and the Gospel of the Ebionites, but we have

no copies of these texts themselves. In addition, we have always had

apocryphal (meaning " hidden " ) Gospels, which often expanded stories

about Jesus' childhood centuries later. Infancy Gospels are

attributed, for instance, to both and . Fragments of lost

Gospels have also been found (such as Papyrus Oxyrhynchus 840) that

record supposed supplemental sayings of Jesus. But these are so short

they can hardly be dated.

In 1945, however, an archive of 57 Christian writings was discovered

in central Egypt at Nag Hammadi. Here were Gospels we had never seen.

Although they were clearly early, they were out of the mainstream of

New Testament thought. The Hypostasis of the Archons, the Exegesis of

the Soul, the Apocalypse of Adam, and the Acts of were among

these.

Nag Hammadi's Gospel of has 114 sayings from Jesus,

unconnected to any narrative. About half appear to be a direct echo

of the New Testament. Others are utterly far-fetched.

But this archive raised forcefully a set of questions now confronting

every New Testament scholar and church historian. Were

rival " Christianities " competing in the ancient world? Did our

Scriptures come to us thanks to the power politics of ecclesiastical

leaders during the first centuries?

Today, many books explore these themes. In 1979, Elaine Pagels wrote

The Gnostic Gospels, received numerous awards and accolades for her

creativity and courage, and promised to help us unpack the formative

centuries of Christian belief. Perhaps some Christians did not

believe in Jesus' resurrection or even in one God, she proposed.

Perhaps they thought of God as both male and female. And who is to

say they were wrong? In 2003, Pagels returned to her subject with

Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of . In it, we are told that

the earliest form of Christianity was not certain what it believed

and that the orthodoxy that emerged simply out-maneuvered its rivals

and repressed alternative scriptures. supposedly represents

one such repressed voice.

Of course, to evaluate these claims we must determine the value of

these apocryphal Gospels. Do they represent legitimate voices

suppressed in antiquity? In the last five years, this debate has

intensified. Some scholars argue that the canonical boundary that

separates our Scriptures from the apocrypha should come down. Others

argue that Gospels such as should have equal weight with

. Still others believe that notions such as " orthodoxy "

and " canon " are simply arbitrary conventions of the winners.

But they fail to mention that while most of the recently discovered

Gospels will claim to come from an apostle (such as or ),

virtually every scholar knows these claims are fictitious. Moreover,

these Gospels are not easily dated. When someone claims that, say,

the Gospel of or the Gospel of Judas is " late first century, "

we are merely hearing conjecture.

Furthermore, the early church was well aware of these writings and

understood that they offered a view of Christian faith utterly

different than the genuine apostolic Gospels. Christians of the time

did not see these Gospels as rivals. They simply saw them as wrong in

every respect: They presented an understanding of creation, humanity,

Jesus, and salvation that significantly departed from what Christians

had believed from the very beginning.

Bart Ehrman's New Gospel

Which brings us back to Dan Brown and The Da Vinci Code. Brown's

astonishing claims about Jesus and are found in two apocryphal

Gospels, the Gospel of and the Gospel of Philip. Brown, a

skilled author but no scholar, simply picked them up and spun a

fictional narrative around them.

Bart D. Ehrman, however, is chair of the religious studies department

at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Ehrman has

studied Christianity's first three centuries carefully since leaving

the evangelical fold. In 1996, he wrote The Orthodox Corruption of

Scripture, in which he claims that not only did the winners " write

the history, " but they also shaped the Greek texts making up the New

Testament. Last year, Ehrman wrote a popular study of the

transmission of the Greek New Testament, Misquoting Jesus: The Story

Behind Who Changed the Bible and Why (HarperSanFrancisco).

In Misquoting Jesus, Ehrman retraces the common knowledge that

scribes transcribed the Bible for 1,500 years until Gutenberg came

along. But Ehrman further suggests that not only did the scribes

alter the theological message of the texts, but that they also were

simply continuing in the tradition of biblical writers such as

and Luke, who shaped Jesus' message to fit their theological

agendas.

What Ehrman fails to tell us is that most of the scribal errors he

likes to list are incidental. And when they do have substance, the

thousands of Greek manuscripts we possess permit us to reconstruct

the original by making minute comparisons of their discrepancies. For

instance, the shorter version of the Lord's Prayer in Luke 11:2-4 is

notorious for its many " variants " (textual discrepancies or

anomalies) in Greek manuscripts. However, it quickly becomes evident

that scribes were harmonizing this prayer with 's longer

version in 6:9-13.

On other occasions, scribes heard dictation wrong (in Rom. 5:1, " let

us have peace " and " we have peace " sound the same in Greek) or they

sensed a problem they wanted to solve. Mark 1:2 quotes from both

Malachi and Isaiah, but Mark wrote, " As it is written in Isaiah the

prophet. " Some scribes sought to correct this by amending the

text: " As it is written in the prophets. " In most cases, scholars can

quickly restore the original. To be sure, some textual problems are

hotly contested and solving them is thorny (the story of the woman

caught in adultery is a case in point, see 8), but none of these

variants jeopardizes a single major teaching of the New Testament.

In 2003 (the same year The Da Vinci Code was published), two more

Ehrman books were published. In Lost Scriptures: Books that Did Not

Make It into the New Testament (Oxford), Ehrman offers an anthology

of 47 Christian writings from the centuries following the New

Testament era. Some are cited by church fathers (such as the Gospel

of the Nazareans). Others come from Nag Hammadi (Acts of ).

Ehrman divides his book helpfully into sections: noncanonical

Gospels, acts, epistles, and apocalypses.

Here are easy-to-read translations of books such as the Gospel of

, the Gospel of , and the Secret Gospel of Mark. An

introduction summarizes each book and suggests a historical setting.

This is an outstanding resource for the beginning student of

apocryphal literature. The cumulative effect, however, leaves the

lasting impression that many early Christians read a lot of things

that have been left out of our canon of Scripture. Thus, Ehrman

writes, " Jewish Christians in the early centuries of the church were

widely thought to have preferred the Gospel of . … " Or: " The

Gospel of was known and used as scripture in some parts of the

Christian church in the second century. "

These sentences carry with them huge historical and theological

assumptions. Locating an apocryphal Gospel in antiquity certainly

suggests that someone was reading it. But it hardly means that this

Gospel was enjoying widespread support and authority, especially

among Christians. Such an argument would be the same as someone who

finds an example of eccentric Christian or cultic literature today

and then concludes that this is " what Christians read. " It simply

goes beyond the evidence.

Ehrman's more important effort appears in the companion volume, Lost

Christianities: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never

Knew (Oxford). Here Ehrman says that early Christianity witnessed

remarkable theological chaos. Everything was in dispute: monotheism,

Jesus' divinity, creation. Then, Ehrman says, in the second and third

centuries, powerful clerics imposed their views on rivals, ending a

golden age of diversity and tolerance. The vanquished rivals

supposedly were reformed, suppressed, or forgotten. Other religions

and other Christian voices, those outside the mainstream, were

crushed. And it is only now, Ehrman says, with the discovery of their

lost scriptures, that these long-silenced voices are being heard once

again.

What drives this interest in lost scriptures today? Ehrman concludes,

The broader interest in and heightened appreciation for diverse

manifestations of religious experience, belief, and practice today

has contributed to a greater fascination with the diverse expressions

of Christianity in various periods of its history, perhaps especially

in its earliest period. This fascination is not simply a matter of

antiquarian interest. There is instead a sense that alternative

understandings of Christianity from the past can be cherished yet

today, that they can provide insights even now for those of us who

are concerned about the world and our place in it.

This remarkable admission unmasks what may be Ehrman's hidden agenda:

Finding a wild diversity in the early church—or perhaps, undercutting

orthodoxy in that church—will do the same for our generation. In an

era that shies away from the scandal of certain truth, dismantling

religious authority based on an argument from antiquity will be

received eagerly.

Other Voices?

King at Harvard Divinity School has analyzed one such

supposedly recovered voice. In The Gospel of of Magdala: Jesus

and the First Woman Apostle (Polebridge Press, 2003), King affirms

and other women who are said to have departed from the arbitrary

orthodoxy of orthodoxy. It doesn't surprise me that recently at an

O'Hare Airport bookstall, I saw King's book prominently displayed

next to The Da Vinci Code as the latest " must read. "

On top of all this, like-minded scholars now claim that the New

Testament itself carries a hidden code revealing alternative voices

to orthodoxy. The prevailing theory for Gospel origins suggests that

Mark's was penned first, then and Luke used Mark

independently as they wrote their Gospels. However, and Luke

still have a lot of material in common, sayings of Jesus not found in

Mark (such as the Lord's Prayer and the Beatitudes). Thus, scholars

have posited a lost source that may have stood alongside Mark and

have called it " Q " (from the German quelle, or " source " ). We commonly

hear that used Q and Mark when he wrote.

But, in fact, Q has never been found, and some scholars doubt that it

ever existed. Using and Luke, Q can be reconstructed to build

a hypothetical Gospel source. Using this method, we " discover " that Q

lacks a narrative of Jesus' work, shows no interest in his death, and

doesn't record his Resurrection. It is a collection of sayings

underscoring the wisdom Jesus offered so that we might learn God's

true nature. For a long time, scholars wondered why anyone would

bother to form a collection such as this without a narrative or the

Cross.

Until we discovered the Gospel of at Nag Hammadi, that is.

Here was a collection of sayings just like the Q hypothesis (although

no one thinks that is Q). By this argument, an early stratum

of the synoptic Gospels shows a system of faith not focused on Jesus'

divinity or sacrifice. It is no surprise that a number of scholars

argue that the Gospel of is very early—as early as Mark—and a

solid source for understanding Jesus. Is Q another rival (and

silenced) voice in the earliest church that succumbed to orthodox

power?

Many New Testament scholars would be alarmed at such a statement. The

Q hypothesis (and the literary priority of Mark) are regularly

criticized. (For instance, if wrote first, and Luke used

, and Mark abbreviated both, then Q represents the material

Mark left behind.) Moreover, since no manuscript evidence for Q has

ever been found (you can only " see " it by accepting one hypothesis

for the origin of the canonical Gospels), many scholars doubt that

any Christian ever had a Gospel now called Q. Scholars who describe

a " theology of Q " or a " Q community " do so with slim justification.

Even if Q existed, it may simply have been a compilation of material

about Jesus, not a comprehensive portrait of him.

Taking Up the Challenge

What do we make of all this? And how much of this theorizing is

convincing?

Darrell Bock of Dallas Theological Seminary has taken up the

challenge. In 2004, he wrote a compelling critique of The Da Vinci

Code (Breaking the Da Vinci Code, ), one of the best analyses

of Brown's novel available today.

In August, he is releasing The Missing Gospels: Unearthing the Truth

Behind Alternative Christianities. The echo to Ehrman's work is

obvious: Bock intends to challenge the scholarly trend that now gives

voice to the apocryphal Gospels, and to question the theory of

unfairly repressed " lost Christianities. "

After he outlines the documents under discussion, Bock surveys the

history of Gnosticism—a religious movement that valued secret

knowledge (gnosis) and disdained the physical world as inferior to

the spiritual realm, thus denying the Incarnation of Christ. Bock's

survey shows the paucity of evidence for a uniform Gnostic movement

in the earliest centuries, undercutting the claim from Ehrman and

others that Gnosticism was a competing " Christianity. "

Bock then examines the theory (widespread among modern scholars) that

the terms heresy and orthodoxy are arbitrarily applied to first-

century losers and winners. On the contrary, Bock argues, early

Christianity did indeed make theological judgments based on sound

reasoning, deciding what agreed with revealed truth.

Bock's most valuable contribution, however, is his assessment of four

theological themes that no doubt disqualified these Gospels from

mainstream thinking: (1) God and creation. These Gospels uniformly

deny a link between God and the world: Creation is subject to

imperfection and evil, while God is perfect. (2) The humanity and

divinity of Jesus. The tension between Creator and creation (called

dualism) posed a problem for the Incarnation. The Gnostics said Jesus

either had to be divine without human qualities—or he had to be

created. (3) Redemption of humanity. The same dualistic dilemma now

follows the nature of humanity and our salvation. Does God redeem us

(and the world) in our totality—or is only the soul saved? These

Gospels commonly favored only a spiritual redemption. (4) Sin and

knowledge. Salvation comes not through a physical deed (the Cross)

but through knowledge, or enlightenment. In this approach, Jesus

shows us the way to enlightenment but does no incarnate or

substitutionary work to save us.

These four theological distortions departed from the teachings of the

New Testament and are clearly foreign to it. No wonder orthodox

teachers said that Gnostics had utterly compromised the faith to fit

the cultural tendencies of the day. Bock says the hypothesis about

rival diversities is exaggerated to the extreme, implausible

historically, and neglects how the New Testament Gospels preserve a

reliable witness back to Jesus himself.

The Da Vinci Code is of little consequence in itself. But it is

raising a host of questions about the origin of our faith (and our

Scriptures) that Christians need to master.

This came home to me when I was discussing The Da Vinci Code in a

book group recently. Everyone there had a graduate degree, was a

professing Christian, and had a professional career. But I was

asked: " What are the apocryphal Gospels, such as the Gospel of ,

anyway? Don't Catholics have them in their Bible? " Another: " What is

the New Testament apocrypha, and who decided it wasn't inspired? "

More: " Didn't write the Gospel of ? And if so, didn't he

know Jesus? "

Thanks to a blockbuster novel with absurd claims, and a big-budget

summer movie, this academic debate has moved from the ivory tower to

the public arena. The intellectual battle has been joined. Are we

ready?

M. Burge is a professor of New Testament at Wheaton College and

Graduate School.

Assessing the Apocryphal Gospels

When the mainstream media present apocryphal Gospels as authentic,

what do we need to keep in mind?

Their naming is misleading. While most of these documents are named

after biblical characters (such as , , , and Judas),

the attribution is completely false. Even liberal scholars readily

concede this point. (Hence, the Gospel of Judas has nothing to do

with Judas.)

Their dating is speculative. One scholar may claim that is

from the first century, but numerous others will assert that it was

penned a hundred years later.

Their theological framework is utterly foreign. Gnostic strains

abound. This fact alone dates them later than the New Testament

writings. It also explains why orthodox teachers excluded them from

the canon.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/006/10.24.html

The Lapsed Evangelical Critic

Bart Ehrman's doubt as a student at Moody has turned to agnosticism.

by M. Burge | posted 05/18/2006 09:30 a.m.

In his most recent book, Misquoting Jesus, New Testament scholar Bart

Ehrman tells of his conversion and subsequent doubt. Ehrman grew up

in a liberal Episcopal church but in high school had a " born-again

experience. " " There was a kind of loneliness associated with being a

young teenager, but, of course, I didn't realize that it was part of

being a teenager—I thought there must be something missing. "

According to Ehrman, a Youth for Christ leader took advantage of that

loneliness and told him " with a powerful message that the void we

felt inside (We were teenagers! All of us felt a void!) was from not

having Christ in our hearts. " Eventually Ehrman relented, accepted

Christ, and found relief in being " saved. "

Ehrman then attended Chicago's Moody Bible Institute for three years

and excelled. But the more he looked at the Greek text of Scripture,

the more he struggled with what he saw as a deep fallacy beneath the

surface. The New Testament's inerrancy depended on having original

texts, but all we possessed were copies—copies of copies. And these

were filled with copyists' errors, some accidental, but some

intentional, he felt.

This led to further work in the Greek New Testament at Wheaton

College, where study of textual criticism brought his struggle to a

head: " I kept reverting to my basic question: How does it help us to

say that the Bible is the inerrant word of God if in fact we don't

have the words that God inerrantly inspired? "

Further study at Princeton " opened the floodgates. " If one solid

error could be found—and the Mark 2:26 reference to Abiathar as high

priest during the days of (according to 1 Sam. 21:2, Ahimelech

was the high priest) was a turning point—the way was open for Ehrman

to believe that the New Testament was far less reliable than he'd

thought. " In short, my study of the Greek New Testament, and my

investigations into the manuscripts that contain it, led to a radical

rethinking of my understanding of what the Bible is. This was a

seismic change for me. "

Today, Ehrman chairs the department of religious studies at the

University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. A prolific writer, Ehrman

has become a relentless skeptic of the traditional understanding of

the New Testament, its message, and its history. He has appeared on

CNN, the Discovery Channel, and even Jon 's Daily Show. And he

delights in " taking something really complicated and getting a sound

bite out of it. "

Is Ehrman still a Christian? He calls himself a " happy agnostic. " In

a recent interview with The Washington Post, he described his

understanding of life after death: " I think you just cease to exist,

like the mosquito you swatted yesterday. "

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/006/11.26.html