JR53: Saying 22 in the Gospel of Thomas

A: At the beginning of Stevan Davies's translation of the Gospel of Thomas, there's a Foreword written by Andrew Harvey. Harvey says this about the Gospel of Thomas: "If all the Gospel of Thomas did was relentlessly and sublimely champion the path to our transfiguration and point out its necessity, it would be one of the most important of all religious writings -- but it does even more. In saying 22, the Gospel of Thomas gives us a brilliantly concise and precise 'map' of the various stages of transformation that have be unfolded in the seeker for the 'secret' to be real in her being and active though [sic?] all her powers. Like saying 13, saying 22 has no precedent in the synoptic gospels and is, I believe, the single most important document of the spiritual life that Jesus has left us (pages xxi-xxii)."
 
Harvey then plunges into 5 pages of rapture on the ectastic meaning of Saying 22. None of which I agree with, of course. And none of which you're likely to agree with, either, if experience is any guide. But I thought maybe you and I could have a go at it.
 
J: By all means.
 
A: Okay. Here's the translation of Saying 22 as Stevan Davies's writes it:

"Jesus saw infants being suckled. He said to his disciples: These infants taking milk are like those who enter the Kingdom. His disciples asked him: If we are infants will we enter the Kingdom? Jesus responded: When you make the two into one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside, and the upper like the lower and the lower like the upper, and thus make the male and the female the same, so that the male isn't male and the female isn't female. When you make an eye to replace an eye, and a hand to replace a hand, and a foot to replace a foot, and an image to replace an image, then you will enter the Kingdom (page xxii and 25-27)."

Harvey's interpretation of this saying speaks of an "alchemical fusion" and a "Sacred Androgyne" who "'reigns' over reality" with actual "powers that can alter natural law" because he or she has entered a transformative state of "mystical union," where "the powers available to the human being willing to undertake the full rigor of the Jesus-transformation are limitless."

I'm not making this up, though I wish I were.

J: And there I was, talking about a little ol' mustard seed . . . . It's a terrific example of the danger of using "wisdom sayings" as a teaching tool. People have a tendency to hear whatever they want to hear in a simple saying. Parables are much harder to distort. Eventually I caught on to the essential problem that's created when you choose to speak indirectly to spare other people's feelings. When you use poetry instead of blunt prose, it's much easier for other people to twist your meaning intentionally. You can see the same understanding in the Gospel of Mark. Mark is blunt. He doesn't waste time on cliches and "wisdom words." He goes straight for the truth, and leaves no wiggle room for gnostic-type interpretations.

“The disciples said to Jesus: ‘Tell us what the Kingdom of Heaven is like.’ He replied: ‘It is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all. However, when it falls into worked ground, it sends out a large stem, and it becomes a shelter for the birds of heaven'” (Gospel of Thomas 20). Mustard Seeds by David Turner 2005, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

 
A: Harvey seems to have found a whole lot of wiggle room in Saying 22.
 
J: I must admit that Harvey's "revelation" of the Sacred Androgyne makes me feel sick to my stomach.
 
A: Why?
 
J: Because it denies the very reality of male and female. It denies the reality that God the Father is male and God the Mother is female. It denies the reality that everything in Creation is built on the cherished differences between male and female. Being male isn't better than being female. And being female isn't better than being male. But they're not the same. Neither are they yin-and-yang. They're not two halves of the same coin. They're not mirror images of each other. They're not a fusion -- they're not a Oneness -- like a bowl of pure water. God the Mother and God the Father are like a bowl of minestrone soup. You can see all the big chunks of differentness floating around in there, and that's okay, because that's what gives the mixture its taste, its wonder, its passion.
 
God the Mother and God the Father aren't the same substance with opposite polarities. No way. They have individual temperaments and unique characteristics. In some ways, they're quite alike. In other ways, they're quite different from each other. Just as you'd expect in two fully functioning, mature beings. That's why it's a relationship. They work things out together so both of them are happy at the same time. It's not that hard to imagine, really. They have a sacred marriage, a marriage in which they constantly strive to lift each other up, support each other, forge common goals together, build things together, and most importantly, raise a family together. They look out for each other. They laugh together. They're intimately bound to each other in all ways. But they're still a bowl of minestrone soup. With nary a Sacred Androgyne in sight.
 
A: Okay. So if you weren't talking about "oneness" or "alchemical fusion" or the "Sacred Androgyne" in Saying 22, what were you talking about?
 
J: Well, I was talking about the mystery and wonder that can be found in a simple seed. I was talking -- as I often was -- about how to understand our relationship with God by simply looking at and listening to God's ongoing voice in the world of nature.
 
A: Oh. Are we talking about tree-hugging?
 
J: You could put it that way.
 
A: David Suzuki would love you for saying that.
 
J: I was a nature mystic, to be sure. Endogenous mystics are nature mystics. They see the image of God -- and more importantly the stories of God -- in God's own language, which is the world of Creation. The world outside the city gates has so much to say about balance and time and beginnings and endings! The world outside the city gates is a library. It's literally a library that teaches souls about cycles and physics and interconnectedness and chemistry and complexity and order and chaos all wrapped up together in a tapestry of Divine Love.
 
A: What you're saying seems like a pretty modern, liberal sort of understanding. Were you able to articulate it this way 2,000 years ago?
 
J: Not to be unkind to modern, liberal thinkers, but when was the last time a philosopher of science sat down with a mustard seed and reflected on the intrinsic meaning of it? When was the last time you heard what a humble fresh bean can teach you about the spiritual journey of all human beings?
 
A: I see your point. People in our society don't usually take the time to sit down and "smell the roses."
 
J: Geneticists and biologists and related researchers can print out all their research on the genome of a kidney bean, and can even modify this genetic code in a lab, but to a mystic the kidney bean holds more than pure science.
 
A: So we've switched from mustard seeds to kidney beans as a metaphor?
 
J: Kidney beans are bigger and easier to see without magnifying lenses, and a lot of people have begun their scientific inquiries by growing beans in a primary school classroom. So yes -- let's switch to beans.
 
A: I remember being fascinated by fresh beans and peas when I was young. If you split the bean with your thumbnail, and you didn't damage it too much when you split it, you could see the tiny little stem and leaf inside at one end, just waiting to sprout. If you planted a whole, unsplit bean in a small glass-walled container, you could watch the whole process of growth -- the bean splitting open on its own, roots starting to grow from one end, the stem and leaf popping up, the two halves of the bean gradually shrinking as their nutrients were converted into stem and root growth. Somehow the bean knew what to do. It just kept growing out of the simplest things -- dirt, sunlight, water.
 
J: The bean is a lot like the human brain. If you plant it whole in fertile ground and provide the right nutrients, it grows into a thing of wholeness and balance and wonder and mystery. On the other hand, if you try to split it open, or extract the tiny stem hidden inside, or plant it on rocks instead of good soil, or fail to give it sunshine and water, it won't thrive. It may not even root at all. You can't force the bean to grow where it isn't designed to grow. You can't force it to grow once you've forcibly split it open. You can't force it to grow on barren rock. The bean has to be whole when you plant it. The outside skin has to be intact. The different parts inside the skin have to be intact. The bean has different parts, but it needs all those different parts in order to be whole -- in order to create something new. The bean isn't a single substance. But it is holistic. It's a self-contained mini-marvel that teaches through example about cycles and physics and interconnectedness and chemistry and complexity and order and chaos. It appears simple, but in fact it's remarkably complex. Creation is like that -- it appears simple, but in fact it's remarkably complex.
 
A: Why, then, were you talking about "male and female" in Saying 22? Why did you seem to be talking about merging or fusion of male and female into an androgynous state? Or a Platonic state of mystical union?
 
J: It goes to the question of context. I was talking to people who, as a natural part of their intellectual framework, were always trying to put dualistic labels on everything in Creation. Everyday items were assigned labels of "good or evil," "pure or impure," "male or female," "living or dead." It had got to the point where a regular person might say, "I won't use that cooking pan because it has female energy, and female energy isn't pure."
 
A: I'm not sure that kind of paranoid, dualistic, magical thinking has really died out, to be honest.
 
J: There are certainly peoples and cultures who still embrace this kind of magical thinking. You get all kinds of destructive either-or belief systems. You get people saying that right-handed people and right-handed objects are favoured by God, whereas left-handed people are cursed. It's crazy talk. It's not balanced. It's not holistic. It's not trusting of God's goodness.
 
A: And you were left-handed.
 
J: Yep. My mother tried to beat it out of me, but I was a leftie till the day I died. When I was a child, I was taught to be ashamed of my left-handedness. Eventually I came to understand that I was who I was. The hand I used as an adult to hold my writing stylus was the same hand I'd been born with -- my left hand. But on my journey of healing, redemption, and forgiveness, I came to view my hand quite differently than I had in my youth. Was it a "new hand"? No. Was it a new perception of my hand. Yes. Absolutely yes.
 
A: You stopped putting judgmental labels on your eyes and your hands and your feet and your understanding of what it means to be made in the image of God.
 
J: One of the first steps in knowing what it feels like to walk in the Kingdom of the Heavens is to consider yourself "a whole bean."
 
A: Aren't there kidney beans in minestrone soup? How did we get back to the minestrone soup metaphor?
 
J: A little mustard seed in the soup pan never hurts either.
 

JR35: Father of Lights, Mother of Breath

A: Saying 56 of the Gospel of Thomas is somewhat puzzling. Stevan Davies translates it as "Jesus said: Whoever has known the world has found a corpse; whoever has found that corpse, the world is not worthy of him." Davies suggests that this saying relates to the two Creation stories in Genesis. He says, "it seems that the animating principle of the world is the Kingdom within it that remains undiscovered by most people. They do not realize that for them the world is a corpse; when they discover that it is, they simultaneously discover the Kingdom that can animate it" (page 61). Davies's interpretation doesn't feel right to me. What were you trying to get at here?

“Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. In fulfillment of his own purpose he gave us birth by the Word of Truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his creatures” (James 1:17-18). Photo credit JAT 2014.

 
J: Davies's thesis that the Kingdom is an animating principle within a person and within the world outside each person is central to his interpretations of the Thomasine sayings. He's entitled to his own theories, but I don't have to agree with them.

A: So you don't agree.

J: No. Davies's interpretation -- for all that he tries to cast it in the light of Wisdom teachings instead of Gnostic teachings -- is still Gnostic. In other words, it's an occult interpretation. Occult interpretations of the world rely heavily on dualistic thinking -- everything is reduced to pairs of opposites such as "good versus evil" or "light versus darkness."

A: "Alive versus dead."

J: Yes. As soon as a person starts talking about "dead things" being animated -- literally, being brought to life -- by outside forces, then you're moving in the direction of dualistic, occult thought. What scholars call Christian Gnosticisms are really just a form of immaturity. Emotional and intellectual immaturity. Nothing in Creation can be reduced to the kind of simplistic "either-or" religious formula that's being offered in Davies's interpretation. Life just isn't like that.

A: So you don't agree that "alive versus dead" is a legitimate pair, a legitimate starting point for discussion about the nature of life?

J: You have to understand the religious context in which I lived. People had some very strange ideas about birth, life, illness, and death -- everyone did, regardless of their religion. Jews were no different. We had tons of restrictions and limitations and taboos around natural life processes. Especially around death. Taboos around some other things had loosened up when Jewish lands fell under the sway of Hellenistic thought and then Roman thought. But the taboos around death hadn't diminished. People were very frightened of dead bodies. Only certain people were allowed to touch them. No one could be buried inside the city walls. The list went on and on.

A: That doesn't sound much different from today.

J: One of religion's most important jobs is to help people deal in mature and compassionate ways with death. Few religions manage to accomplish this task with any grace or decorum. One of the few modern religions that brings death into the community in a living, natural way is Rabbinic Judaism. Christianity could learn a thing or two from Judaism on this score. However, the approach to death seen in today's synagogue was not the approach to death I grew up with. Rabbinic Judaism didn't exist in the first half of the 1st century CE. Judaism was a mess. We had so many competing philosophies and so many competing rituals that regular people were hopelessly confused.

A: Dare I say that you added to that confusion?

J: You can say that. It's true. But Judaism had some good things going for it. Even though I had studied the works of Hellenistic philosophers, looking for nuggets of spiritual wisdom, I came back in the end to the best that Judaism had to offer. In my view, the best ideas of Judaism topped everything the other religions were offering.

A: Can you give some examples?

J: The most obvious one is the image of God in the Hebrew texts. There was the strange idea in Judaism -- uncommon, though not unprecedented in the history of religion -- that there was really just one God, not a whole pantheon of gods. Of course, I didn't agree with the Platonic idea that God was a single undifferentiated "He." This idea had slowly made its way into Jewish thought, and by the 1st century CE it was widely accepted by many Jews. But not all Jews saw God as 100% male. A thinking person couldn't make sense of the natural world if it was seen solely as a "male domain." There had to be a feminine principle in there somewhere -- a feminine principle that was equal to the male principle and in full partnership with the male principle. My personal experiences as a mystic clinched that theory beyond all doubt. Once I had seen and felt the reality of God the Mother and God the Father in my own heart, I had no doubt about who God really is. God is Father and Mother together -- Abba and Ruah. Father of Lights, Mother of Breath. That's what I called them.

A: You refer to the Father of Lights in the Letter of James (James 1:17-18). You also say there that the Father of Lights gave birth to us "by the word of truth." What did you mean by this?

J: "The word of truth" -- logo aletheias in the Greek, which is not the same as Sophia (Wisdom) -- is a name I sometimes used for God the Mother. I was trying to make it clear that God the Father doesn't give birth to us by himself. It isn't a weird form of parthenogenesis (virgin birth). It's the most natural form of creation imaginable.

A: Two partners coming together in light and in truth and fulfilling our creation because they want to.

J: This image of God was considered heretical to both pious Jews and pious Gentiles. There were countless images of the Divine in many different religions. The only image of the Divine that wasn't being preached was the one I was preaching -- the God Who Is Two. One God, many children. One God, many souls. One God, many Kingdoms. This image of God as God really is did have -- and still has -- the power to free so many people from the suffering caused by prejudice and hierarchy and male dominance! This image has the power to open up the gates of meaningful relationship with God. Everything you see in the world around you makes so much more sense when you allow yourself to make room for the "crazy, heretical notion" that God is Two -- not One, and not Three. All the most meaningful experiences of life as a human -- the experiences of love, of redemption, of healing, of trust -- they all rely on relationship. On two people -- at a minimum -- coming together in mutual aid and comfort. As the song says, "one is the loneliest number". On the other hand, two is the number of change, growth, creation, balance, and divine love. The world of science and nature constantly reinforces this one simple message: it's all about Two, not One.

A: It seems very strange to me that when an individual adamantly holds to the idea that God is One, his or her thinking becomes less holistic and more dualistic -- more based on black-and-white pairs of opposites. When pious religious followers commit themselves wholly to the idea that God is One, it's like a cartoon thought bubble pops up and fills itself up with all sorts of nasty, judgmental words. Words so nasty they could singe the hair off your head. You wouldn't think the idea of God-as-One could lead to so much hatred and prejudice and racial discrimination. But we have plenty of history to prove it. I've been watching the Kennedy mini-series on the History Channel, and of course they examine the racial rioting in the U.S. South in the early 1960's. I simply can't understand or relate to that kind of vicious hatred.

J: Well, we had plenty of that kind of vicious hatred in my time. Jews against other Jews. Rich against poor. Chosen people against damned people. Blah, blah, blah. No end to the bigotry. No end to the narcissism.

A: I see you're equating bigotry with narcissism.

J: Sure. Bigotry can only grow in a garden that's growing the weeds of narcissism and bullying. Narcissism is a psychologically dysfunctional state where an individual's brain becomes addictively dependent on the myth that he or she is "special," "better than others," and entitled to better treatment than other people. Like any addict, the status addict has to receive regular fixes. To maintain a stance of bigotry towards another person on the basis of skin colour is simply proof of addiction -- addiction to status. The choice to hate somebody on the basis of race or skin colour has the same biological effect on the brain as an addiction to cocaine. Bigotry is a form of "using." It has no place in the life of a person of faith.

A: Bigotry is another form of dualistic thinking -- "us versus them."

J: It's also a clear indication of immaturity in an individual. A mature individual is able to process ambiguity, change, complexity, and "shades of grey." A mature individual is capable -- even as a frail human being -- of perceiving and appreciating the vast scope of Creation and the awe-inspiring, humbling interconnections that exist among all forms of life, both here and elsewhere in Creation. A mature individual doesn't ask "what God can do for you," but instead asks "what you can do for God."

A: That statement would be considered blasphemous by the "piety and pity" crew that insists we're all full of sin and unworthy before God.

J: Well, I rejected the "piety and pity" parade, as you can tell from everything I've been trying to say on this site.

A: I'll just call you the "trust and twofulness" guy instead.

JR20: Persecution of the Heirs of the Kingdom

A: Another important theme you included alongside the idea that the poor were "heirs of the kingdom" was the idea that the faithful would be hated, excluded, reviled, defamed, and persecuted [Luke 6:22 and Thomas 68]. Stevan Davies, in his commentary on the Gospel of Thomas, is puzzled by this. He says, "It is puzzling why so much very early Christian literature assumes that persecution is an inherent part of being a Christian. The ancient world was by no means a place where well-defined doctrinal parameters defined orthodoxy and heresy so that dissenters would regularly be persecuted for their beliefs. The violent suppression of religious ideas became characteristic of Western religions only in later centuries (p. 74)." Why did you place so much emphasis on the idea that the heirs to the kingdom would be reviled?

J: Davies makes a lot of assumptions here that need to be challenged. Like many commentators, he's making dualistic assumptions. He's assuming that I was primarily teaching about "mysticism" -- something separate from everyday realities, something elevated or special or hidden. He assumes a Gnostic interpretation of my early sayings. He assumes that persecution arose when others became envious or angry because they didn't know "my secret." But this isn't at all what I meant. I was telling people the honest truth about what would happen to them if they followed my teachings about God and status. I was telling them to be prepared to be vilified, attacked, abused, and scorned for daring to provoke the psychopaths and narcissists around them. I was telling people to be honest and realistic about other people's reactions.

A: Whoa. That's a pretty big statement you just made. That's a statement with a lot of implications. Can you explain in more detail?

J: Yes. Put bluntly, "Hell hath no fury like a narcissist scorned."

A: Ooooh. Nice image.

J: This is the psychological context that all people should be aware of, not just the people who've chosen a spiritual life. This is the psychological context that lurks behind corruption and crime and abuse. If there's one good thing I can say about TV dramas like Law & Order and Criminal Minds it's this: these TV shows are doing more to teach regular people about psychopathy and narcissism than Christianity ever has. It's a valuable public service.

A: It goes without saying that you didn't have TV shows or films to use as teaching aids.

J: True. But we had something almost as good. We had Greco-Roman mythology. We had a complete psychological "language" available to us, a complete collection of cautionary tales that graphically described all the best and all the worst choices a human being can make. There were -- are -- myths about jealousy. Myths about rape. Myths about prophecy. Myths about hubris. Myths about suffering. Myths about trickery. Myths about bravery. Myths about romance. Myths about empathy. The characters in these myths are archetypes for different psychological states. These archetypes are still quite useful for talking about psychological choices, psychological states. They're much more memorable than long-winded academic articles full of jargon.

A: And they make better action films, too. I'm thinking of the recent remake of Clash of the Titans.

J: The archetype of psychopathy that worked best for me was the image of Medusa. Not the snake chick from Clash of the Titans -- that's not the version of the myth I knew best -- but the version that described Medusa as so hideous to look upon that she had the power to turn you to stone. That's what the power of psychopaths is like -- they're so frightening, so unrepentant in their pursuit of power and status, that the people around them feel paralyzed, "turned to stone," unable to move or think, let alone react in self-defense. This is how psychopaths end up running major institutions, corporations, and countries. They just keep on turning people into stone until they get what they want.

“Jesus said, Blessed are you when they hate and persecute you. No place will be found where they persecuted you (Gospel of Thomas 68).” Statue of Perseus by Antonio Canova (Vatican City), photo by Tetraktys (from Wikimedia Commons)

A: Which is usually money, power, status, fame.

J: And sexual gratification.

A: Yuck.

J: Respectful, tender, devoted, consensual sexuality between two committed adults is not on the menu for psychopaths. They can pretend for a while, but they get bored. Eventually they go looking for "side dishes" if they think they can get away with it.

A: What happens when you confront a psychopath directly, challenge his or her actions?

J: That's when the fireworks begin. Psychopaths are often easy to get along with on a day to day basis as long as they believe they're in full control, as long as they believe they're receiving the status they "deserve." They're especially affable and agreeable at work or at home if people tell them how nice they are. One of the most misunderstood qualities of a psychopath is his or her desperate need to believe that he/she is "a nice person." It's their main coping mechanism, believe it or not.

A: Ahead of habits like lying, manipulation, substance abuse, and abusive sexuality?

J: The need to find "proof" that they're nice is the psychopath's Number One psychological defense against the truth of his or her unconscionable behaviour.

A: So Hitler believed he was "a nice person."

J: Oh, absolutely. Same with his close buddies. As a group, they told themselves comfy little lies about what nice people they were and what an important job they were doing for the German people -- the German people they loved.

A: Throwing themselves on their swords for the good of the people, eh?

J: That's how they explained it to themselves. That's how they managed to keep functioning, despite the severe damage to their biological brains.

A: Hitler had a violent temper and he made irrational military decisions that revolved around "honour." His honour.

J: That's what I meant when I said that hell hath no fury like a narcissist scorned. When you impugn the "honour" -- by that I actually mean the status -- of a psychopath or a severe narcissist, you can expect to be on the receiving end of a narcissistic rage reaction. Such a person will not rest until he or she has exacted revenge. The revenge may be physical. It may be psychological. It may be financial or social. Or some combination of these. But you can count on one thing: it'll hurt like stink, and you'll probably be deeply traumatized for a long time afterwards. Only occasionally will such person decide to "let it go" and walk away from the "deservee."

A: They want to turn you to stone, in other words.

J: This is the reality. It seemed appropriate to me to caution my students about this reality. You could say it was a question of "informed consent." Is it right to give students a new understanding of how to be in relationship with God and not warn them about the practical consequences of standing up to the bullies, the tyrants, and the religious status seekers? It didn't seem right to me not to warn them.

A: The version of the Medusa myth I liked best when I was growing up was the version where Perseus cut off Medusa's head and released the beautiful winged horse Pegasus who was trapped inside. There are other versions of the Pegasus myth, but somehow I liked the idea of the noble creature trapped inside the monster. It made sense to me. Not that I'm endorsing the Gnostic idea of good-soul-trapped-inside-evil-body. I don't mean it that way. It's just that so many people misuse their bodies and brains. They choose to ignore their true self -- their Pegasus, if you will. They choose to identify with this horrible snake-covered outer mask that enjoys hurting other people, enjoys turning other people into stone. They're in a complete state of denial about the choices they're making.

J: Part of the journey of forgiving the Hitlers of the world is the choice to trust that behind every snake-covered Medusan mask of hatred lies the true self -- the brave and beautiful Pegasus. A.k.a. the soul. The core consciousness that isn't being listened to.

A: Ah. But we haven't got to those teachings yet. Those are the most challenging ones of all.

J: One step at a time. That's the best anyone can do.

JR6: John and the Gospel of Thomas

A: I had a letter from a reader in the U.S. who's curious about the Gospel of Thomas, so I thought we could switch gears a bit and talk about the manuscript known as the Gospel of Thomas.

Papyrus fragment: Gospel of Jesus' Wife (sourced from Wikimedia Commons, author unknown). This fragment is not from the Nag Hammadi collection, but is a good example of an early Christian text written in Coptic on papyrus. This fragment has itself been the source of much recent controversy.

J: Okay. Where do you want to start?

A: Well, for readers who aren't familiar with it, maybe we could start with some background.

J: I happen to know you already have a book on your desk with the relevant facts, so perhaps you'd like to talk about the history of it.

A (referring to textbook): The discovery of the Gospel of Thomas was one of those serendipitous finds, so extraordinary that you'd expect to see it in an Indiana Jones movie. But the history isn't disputed. Late in 1945, two Egyptian men discovered a large sealed pottery jar hidden beneath a large boulder near the village of Nag Hammadi in southern Egypt. They smashed the jar and found 13 leather-bound volumes inside, which were later sold. These volumes, which date from the mid-4th century CE and contain more than 50 texts, soon attracted the attention of scholars. The collection is called the Nag Hammadi library, and it's proven to be a goldmine for scholars of early church doctrine. The texts are considered to be Gnostic Christian rather than orthodox Christian, and some scholars have suggested the texts were hidden to protect them from a wave of persecution against Gnostics. The most famous of the books is the collection of Jesus's sayings -- your sayings -- called the Gospel of Thomas. There's disagreement among scholars as to whether the Gospel of Thomas should be considered a Gnostic text. Some believe it should instead be considered a text originating in a different but very early school of Christianity -- not quite Gnostic but not orthodox, either. Anyway, it's unique because it doesn't follow the narrative format of the four gospels we know from the Bible. Instead, it's a collection of sayings. Some of those sayings have sparked renewed mystical and creative interest in Jesus' original teachings. The movie Stigmata is an example of that interest.

J: And don't forget all those Da Vinci Code type books.

A: Those, too. You don't want to be learning your history from these books and films, but it's fun to sit down with a cup of hot tea and an entertaining novel on a cold snowy day.

J: Like today.

A: Yes. That's quite the storm out there today. A storm front all the way from Texas to Nova Scotia. I hope my boss calls to say we're closed today. Then maybe I could do a little reading. Catch up on the Gospel of Thomas -- which, to be honest, I haven't looked at in about two years. Last time I read it, I hadn't figured out the Gospel of Mark. But I think it's time to revisit the sayings in the Gospel of Thomas and try to figure out how they relate to Mark. All I really know at this point is what you've told in the past about the authorship of the Gospel of Thomas.

J: You mean the fact that the apostle John wrote the Gospel of Thomas.

A: It's so confusing. Who wrote the Gospel of Mark? Oh, that would be Matthew. But not the Matthew who wrote the Gospel of Matthew, because that author would be Paul's disciple Barnabas. And don't forget that Luke and Acts weren't written by a physician named Luke. And the newly discovered Gospel of Thomas wasn't written by Thomas, but was actually written by John. It's enough to give a person a headache.

J: It's interesting, isn't it, that John's name is actually on his other writings -- the Gospel of John, the letters of John, and Revelation.

A: Yes. How is it that John's name got preserved in so many places, and Paul's name got preserved in so many places, and your name didn't get preserved on any writings at all? We have texts we call "Pauline," and we have texts we call "Johannine," but we don't have any "Yeshuan" texts. In fact, we don't even have an adjective in English that corresponds to the name Jesus, so I have to use an adjective based on the Aramaic form of your name, Yeshua. Yet I know you did a lot of writing. So what happened? What happened to your name? And what happened to your writings?

J: Long story. It's complicated. It makes more sense if you understand the cast of characters, the people I actually lived with and worked with. It makes more sense if you understand the personal motivations for each person involved.

A: Including your own motivation.

J. Yes. Mine, too.

A: Okay. Let's start with your motivation, then. Can you describe briefly the core of your motivation?

J: To bring healing to disadvantaged children so they didn't have to go through what my daughter had to go through.

A: Oh.

J: Theologians have been pontificating for centuries about who I was and what I was trying to do. But nobody's taken the time or trouble to ask me. They all want me to be a reflection of themselves -- somebody who's more interested in how many angels can fit on the head of a pin than somebody who's interested in the core questions about humanity. Life and love. Healing. But after my daughter died, I couldn't have cared less about the Covenant or the Law. The Covenant did nothing to help my daughter. In fact, I'd say the Covenant was partly to blame for her death. After you've had a child die -- a child you care deeply about -- your life changes. It's no great mystery. I embarked on a journey of spiritual questioning and spiritual agony because I felt I owed it to my beloved child. It's as simple as that.

A: I understand.

J: Yes, because you've gone through the same thing. Nobody but a bereaved parent can completely understand. To lose a beloved child is to have your heart ripped out. Except that you don't lose your heart. If you accept the grief and you accept the loss, you end up finding your heart. It bleeds a lot, but it's there.

A: Many of the theologians who've written about you over the centuries have been neither parents nor bereaved parents.

J: Augustine of Hippo was a bereaved parent. This didn't help him find his heart, unfortunately.

A: Perhaps he was in denial. It's not uncommon for bereaved parents to withdraw completely from their emotions because it's too painful. They retreat into logic and end up focussing on the "mind" and "reason" so they don't have to feel anything anymore.

J: Exactly. Unfortunately, the orthodox Church is riddled with the immature "victim" psychology that comes with being emotionally crippled, with abandoning healthy, mature relationships with each other and with God.

A: Explain what you mean by "emotionally crippled."

J: I mean men and women who are emotionally immature, emotionally stunted, emotionally dissociated. Adults who don't have the courage of their own hearts and souls. It's hard work to deal with grief. And love. And Pauline Christians aren't good at it because they haven't been taught how. Whenever I hear the phrase "one body in Christ," I think of a zombie -- a lifeless corpse walking around with no heart and no capacity for empathy or deep compassion. There's lots and lots of talk in the Church about free will and reason and blind faith, but if you look closely, you'll see there's little talk about emotional maturity or emotional healing or faith based on empathy rather than on pure logic. That's why the Church doesn't teach people about forgiveness. Forgiveness is part of a messy package that includes love and grief and pain. Forgiveness is very hard work at an emotional and spiritual and psychological level. It has no appeal for people who are emotionally immature.

A: People like Paul.

J: And people like John the Baptist.

A: Hey -- that's a non sequitur.

J: Not when you know that John the Baptist and John the Evangelist were one and the same person.

A: I take it that reports of his death were greatly exaggerated?

J: There are always wars and rumours of wars. Always deaths and rumours of deaths. Sometimes the one prevents the other.


Update on August 9, 2015: (1) Photo of the Gospel of Jesus' Wife was added.

(2) For an interesting commentary on the Gospel of Thomas, please see the article called "The Gospel of Thomas: Jesus Said What?" by Simon Gathercole in the July/August 2015 Biblical Archaeology Review.  In this article, Dr. Gathercole talks about the history of the Gospel of Thomas's discovery, discusses theories for its date, and reviews some the Gospel's major theological themes.

On the question of whether the Gospel of Thomas can be understood as a Gnostic work, he says this:

"Nevertheless, it has always been something of an embarrassment for the "Gnostic" view of Thomas that there is no talk of an evil demiurge, a creation that is intrinsically evil, or of other familiar themes such as "aeons" (a technical term for the divine realms in the heavens).  Properly Gnostic gospels such as the Gospel of Judas and the Nag Hammadi Gospel of the Egyptians, have very complicated accounts of how multitudes of deities and aeons come into existence from a demonic power before the birth of the world.  There is nothing of this in Thomas, though."