Jesus Had a Wife? More Gnostic Nonsense

Cornelius Sullivan 

Gnosticism, from “gnosis” in Greek, says that the salvation of the soul comes from the possession of a somewhat intuitive knowledge of the mysteries of the universe and of magic formulas about that knowledge. Gnostics were "people who knew", a superior class of beings, basically different from those who did not know.

There is a proportion of people today who also want to believe the most bizarre things about the preacher who claimed to be the son of God. If we follow the idea derived from Gnosticism that he had children then logically it follows that they, as direct line descendants, children of God made man, would be able to make the blind see, the lame walk, drive out demons, cure the sick, and speak with words that would change hearts and change the whole course of history. Tell me where they are. I want to see them. 

Jesus was married? Where was his wife? Where is she now? There were hundreds of witnesses to the Resurrection. Through the centuries there have been hundreds of visions from all parts of the world but not one of Jesus and his wife. Believe what you want, I’m going with the first thirty three or so popes who were martyred for their faith. Think of what that means. It is a violent death to affirm that Jesus is the only Lord, just that, not anything about his family, nothing about his progeny. 

Find an account that says that when Saint Stephen was being stoned to death, and forgave his murderers, that he had a vision of Jesus and his wife sitting around the kitchen table, or that Jesus and his wife said, “Saul, why are you persecuting us?, or Saint Peter said, “Quo Vadis Lord, where are you and Mrs. Jesus going?”  

If you like free flowing ideas that are all over the place without regard for the truth, and that tell you at the same time that you are getting special secrets that only some can know, you probably would have been a Gnostic back then, and today you probably get thrills from the most bizarre blogs.

My ridicule of domestic ideas is to point out the singularity of the story of salvation as revealed in history by so many witnesses who died for the truth.The idea of Jesus having a wife is not to die for.

_________

Here is Thomas L. McDonald on the latest from the Gnostic Noise Machine: 

I was going to let the whole “Jesus had a wife” thing pass by in silence, since the discovery of a minor fragmentary unprovenanced 4th century papyrus of a probable Gnostic text is about as relevant to actual Christianity as an episode of Scooby Doo.

If it turns out to be authentic (big if) it may very, very slightly and incompletely expand our knowledge of some of the fringe backwaters that burbled up and rapidly drained away in the early centuries of Christianity. Honestly, though, it doesn’t even really add much to our store of knowledge about Gnosticism (one of the earlier Christian heresies) that we didn’t already know. READ THE FULL POST HERE.

____________

And here is Fr. Robert Barron in conversation with Dr. Scott Hahn about Gnosticism and modern spirituality.  Why Gnosticism, like Dan Brown and other conspiracy theories of our times, appeals to the perpetual adolescent in us.

Fr. Barron on Pope Benedict's Book and How to Read the Bible

Fr. Barron offers a clear explanation of the historical-critical method, its benefits and limitations.

Leading by example

Finally, my own review:

Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week: From the Entrance Into Jerusalem To The Resurrection
by Pope Benedict XVI

It is not Pope Benedict's way, to the disappointment of some traditionalists, to issue anathemas denouncing the kind of biblical scholarship that seeks to explain away the Christian story in secular terms - Jesus as a great teacher (only) whose followers built legends around him, and so forth. He gives due recognition to the exegetical fruits yielded by historical-critical method, but also sees the method as limited and essentially exhausted. Instead, he advocates a different approach, one that reads the Bible in the spirit in which it was written and read, as the early Church Fathers read it, with an eye to the future as well as the past, with the eyes of faith as well as with full critical intelligence.

Rather than simply calling for a certain kind of approach to biblical scholarship, Benedict leads by example. He has produced a work of stunning scholarship and deep faith, that nevertheless amply repays careful reading and re-reading by Christians of all kinds and levels of scholarly expertise.

At the same time, with its careful consideration of the views of (especially) German scholars and exegetes, this is not a quick read. But hang in there, it gets more personally engaging in the second half. I read it right after reading Brant Pitre's stunning book, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper, which turns out to be a great preparation for reading this work. Both books situate the Christian story in its historical Jewish context and show how almost every recorded word and action of Jesus of Nazareth draws on, quotes, or is foreshadowed by Scripture - the Torah, the Psalms, the Prophets - as well as by Jewish custom and tradition.

I have also been reading a very different work by another great theologian of whom Benedict has spoken with enormous admiration - Hans Urs von Balthasar's Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter. The two books could not be more different. Balthasar was not a biblical scholar like Ratzinger and on the other hand he gives great theological weight to Christ's going to the dead ("He descended into hell") between his death and Resurrection - something that the pope, surprisingly, does not mention. In any case, the pope's book is by contrast simply written, historically grounded, and accessible (with a little effort) to Christian readers of all kinds.

A reader who has watched how Pope Benedict has come under hostile fire from the media and denunciation from anti-Christians, anti-Catholics, and dissident Catholics for most of his career, cannot but marvel at the tone of this book. As Pope Benedict XVI, Joseph Ratzinger at age 84 now leads a Church of more than a billion members that is undergoing in the West twin crises of secularizing ("beige Catholicism" or "cafeteria Catholicism") and scandal. His field of scholarship, biblical exegesis, has been beset for more than a century by attempts to question and discredit every tenet of Christian faith as taught by the Church.

So it seems a small miracle that the book was written at all in the midst of these storms. Even more extraordinary is the serenity and humility that suffuse every page. Even the most outrageous exegesis is discussed calmly and the most dismissive objections to the Christian narrative are fairly stated and discussed. Benedict is a man of intellectual brilliance and deep faith and on both accounts is not easily rattled. He shows by example, not only how biblical scholars should move forward on a sounder basis than in recent centuries, but also how faithful Christians can engage their critics charitably and without defensiveness.

The book ends in a way that goes some way to explain how he does it. Its final word is surely at the heart of the New Testament as well as in the hearts of the Church's great saints and martyrs. In that final paragraph, the pope addresses the question of why the disciples are joyful rather than sad at the Risen Lord's leaving them. Discussing Luke's account of the Ascension, which has Jesus stretching out his hands over the disciples in blessing as he departs from them, the pope comments:

"In departing, he comes to us, in order to raise us up above ourselves and to open up the world to God. That is why the disciples could return home from Bethany rejoicing. In faith we know that Jesus holds his hands stretched out in blessing over us. That is the lasting motive of Christian joy" (p. 293).

A great book by a great pope

"In the Midst of History": Benedict's Second Volume

By James V. Schall, S.J.
THURSDAY, 10 MARCH 2011

The English translation of Benedict XVI’s second volume of Jesus of Nazareth is being published officially by Ignatius Press today. This volume covers the events of Christ’s life from Palm Sunday to the Ascension. Following the first volume about Jesus’ public ministry, we continue with a careful presentation of the central events of Christ’s life.

We are constantly aware of the enormous scholarship that has gone into efforts to prove or disprove the veracity of those events. The present pope is thoroughly familiar with the body of literature in all its complexity that revolves around “who Christ is.” Benedict is also familiar with the patristic and medieval authors, as well as the Greek and Roman backgrounds to these events. The pope likewise knows the various strands of philosophy – ancient, medieval, and modern – that often lie behind the efforts to prove or disprove the veracity of the events of Christ’s life.

Thus, one reads this second volume of Benedict’s quiet, non-dogmatic effort to present the basic facts and evidence with the assurance that nobody out there knows more about this life than the present pope. Catholics, as I have often said, have no idea of the intellectual strength of their own position. Many have grown up with the suspicion that somehow, out there, the foundations of the faith have in various ways been undermined by science or historical research. It turns out that, if anything is happening, both science and historical research are underpinning the truth that the Scriptures present to us, namely, that Jesus of Nazareth is what He says of Himself.

This book, Benedict tells us, is neither a “life of Christ” nor a thesis in Christology. The book has many similarities with the tractate of Aquinas (ST III, 27-59) on Christ, but it is best described as presenting “the figure and message of Jesus.” Actually, Benedict writes, “I set out to discover the real Jesus, on the basis of whom something like a ‘Christology from below’ would then become possible.” A Christology “from below,” as opposed to a Christology “from above” would mean, I take it, that if we look carefully at the events in the life of Christ, they only can be properly explained if He was indeed the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Many scholars, Benedict notes, have looked for “the historical Jesus.” But they begin with presuppositions that lack “sufficient content to exert any significant historical impact.” The historical Jesus, in such studies, somehow ends up being merely a nice guy, a revolutionary, a confused Jew, or a dreamer. What we need is a reading of the evidence that includes the reality of Christ’s life as it exists even among us today. The testimony of the Church throughout the ages has preserved the witness of the apostles. It is in their light that we see and read the facts of Christ’s life.

“I have attempted,” Benedict writes, “to develop a way of observing and listening to the Jesus of the Gospels that can indeed lead to personal encounter and that, through collective listening with Jesus’ disciples across the ages, can indeed attain sure knowledge of the real historical figure of Jesus” (xvii). We need to ponder such words.

Early in the twenty-first century, Anno Domini, the pope of Rome writes a two-volume, scholarly, straight-forward book in which he reaffirms that what the Church taught in the beginning was then true and this same understanding of Jesus is still true. None of the massive efforts that have sought to disprove these truths about Jesus have succeeded. They can be understood in their logic and in their scholarship. It is part of Catholicism to know its enemies and deal with them honorably.

But it is also of the essence of Catholicism to insist that the facts are there. In the passion, crucifixion, death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ, we have a unified narration that is consistent both with the fact that Christ was true man, who suffered, died and was buried, and with the fact that He rose again and ascended into heaven. The pope even explains what Christ’s “sitting at the right hand of His Father might sensibly mean.”

Benedict often says that the problem with our time is its lack of truth. I was especially struck by this passage: “‘Redemption’ in the fullest sense can only come in the truth becoming recognizable. And it becomes recognizable when God becomes recognizable. He becomes recognizable in Jesus Christ. In Christ, God entered the world and set up the criterion of truth in the midst of history.” (194) It would be difficult to be more counter-cultural than this, or, it must be said, more true. This is a great book by a great pope.

James V. Schall, S.J., a professor at Georgetown University, is one of the most prolific Catholic writers in America. His most recent book is The Mind That Is Catholic.

© 2010 The Catholic Thing. All rights reserved. For reprint rights, write to: info@frinstitute.org

Retrieved March 9, 2011 from http://www.thecatholicthing.org/?task=view

Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist - Brant Pitre's thrilling book

Brant Pitre, a young Catholic theologian - a professor of sacred scripture at Notre Dame Seminary in New Orleans - has produced a minor publishing sensation. His book, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist, is currently ranked #1 on three Amazon.com bestseller lists:

#1 in Books on Catholicism
#1 in Books on Judaism
#1 in Books on Ritual

Elizabeth Scalia has an interesting interview with Pitre at her Patheos site http://www.patheos.com/community/theanchoress. And Hebrew Catholic (her term) Simcha Fisher reviews it there too (http://www.patheos.com/Resources/Additional-Resources/Behold-The-Manna-the-Bread-from-Heaven-that-Ever-Was-Simcha-Fisher-02-18-2011.html?print=1).

Scalia, who strongly recommends the book as Lenten reading this year, cites a couple of other reviews as well as quoting from her interview:

. . .my personal favorite is the chapter on the Bread of the Presence. This mysterious bread, which was kept in the Tabernacle of Moses and later in the Jerusalem Temple, is consistently overlooked by Christians, because it’s tucked away in the dreaded book of Leviticus! Yet it is easily one of the most transparent foreshadowings of the Eucharist in the Bible. I will never forget the day when I was reading the Jewish Talmud and discovered that the priests in the Temple used to take out the Bread of the Presence at the festivals, elevate it in the sight of the pilgrims, and proclaim: “Behold, God’s love for you”! Could you ask for a clearer parallel with the elevation of the Eucharist in the Mass, what Pope Benedict has called the “Sacrament of Charity”?

Yeah, that gave me a thrill of recognition, too! In fact it reminds me both of the elevation of the Blessed Sacrament at mass, and of this picture of John Paul II, holding aloft the monstrance for adoration and for the blessing of the people, during Benediction:

Longtime readers may recall that back in 2009 Rick at Brutally Honest and I got into a minor tussle about receiving Communion while one is not a Catholic. Since then, Rick has written now and then on his blog about the slow, sometimes painful journey he and his wife are making to become fully received into the church and he has been, yes, brutally honest about it. He has written a review of Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist that is very affecting:

I’ve been away from the Catholic faith for 40 years, in essence wandering in the wilderness as the Jews who were led out of Egypt. My trek toward belief in the Real Presence has been slow and methodical, perhaps even too cerebral; my struggles have been, well . . . real and present. Pitre’s book has helped fill the intellectual gaps and in that sense is an enormous assist. [. . .] I have longed and do long for the presence of God. I am comforted, consoled, strengthened, encouraged, chastened, made aware of my sinfulness, healed and forgiven by His nearness. I have lately been able to experience these things and more during Holy Communion, during Adoration and recently, during a moving and most holy Eucharistic Healing service offered by The Franciscan Friars of the Renewal.

I’ve entered into these things with imperfect faith, with flawed belief, with too many doubts and yet each time, I’ve been granted release. Each time I have left a Eucharistic encounter believing more strongly than before that something mystical and something holy and something real had been before me and experienced by me. My faith has been strengthened.

In Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist, Brant Pitre has provided a firm foundation on which I can literally build my faith, and wrap my brain around the Scriptural basis for Christ’s Presence in the breaking of the bread. This is, frankly, an answer to my prayer and my desiring.

As I said, it’s affecting.

Julie Davis at Happy Catholic, meanwhile, is even “happier” since reading Pitre’s book, and her review is very smart:

There is a thrill of discovery at seeing the pieces fall into place, and that makes the book a surprising page-turner; the reader eagerly wonders where the next revelation will take them. Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist makes it crystal clear why ancient Jews and early Christians alike understood Jesus’ outrageous claims about the Eucharist, that he is truly present in it now and forever.

This book made me look at the Eucharist and Jesus’ promises with new eyes and new appreciation for the truth hidden in plain sight in the Catholic Church. It answers the question that Brant Pitre encountered so long ago as a college student, “How can you Catholics teach that bread and wine actually become Jesus’ body and blood? Do you really believe that?”

It occurs to me that the word “thrill” keeps popping up. Yes, it is an absolute thrill to watch Pitre connect all the dots. And a little humbling when he reveals that, in much more casual ways, this is almost all in the brilliant Catechism that nobody reads enough (myself included).

Retrieved February 19, 2011 from http://www.patheos.com/community/theanchoress/2011/02/16/lenten-reading-jesus-and-jewish-roots-of-the-eucharist/