The Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew

by Bart D. Ehrman

  One of the earliest is called the Infancy Gospel of Thomas (not to be confused with the Coptic Gospel of Thomas discovered near Nag Hammadi), an entertaining account of Jesus' activities starting at the tender age of five. Behind the narrative lies a question that intrigues some Christians even today: "If Jesus was a miracle-working Son of God as an adult, what was he like as a child?"

  The narrative opens with the young Jesus playing by the ford of a stream. Taking some clay, he models twelve sparrows. But, we are told, it was a Sabbath when he did this. A Jewish man passing by sees what Jesus has done and hurries off to tell his father, Joseph, that his son has profaned the Sabbath (by "making" things). Joseph comes and upbraids Jesus for violating the Law. Instead of apologizing or repenting for a sin, Jesus claps his hands and cries to the sparrows, "Be gone!" They immediately come to life and fly off chirping.

  This opening story is indicative of much to come in the narrative: Jesus cannot be faulted for breaking the Sabbath (he has effectively destroyed all evidence of malfeasance!), and already as a young child he is seen as the author of life, not bound to human rules and regulations.

  One might have expected that with such supernatural powers, Jesus would have been a useful and entertaining playmate for the other kids in town. As it turns out, however, the boy has a temper and is not to be crossed. When another child accidentally runs into him on the street, Jesus turns in anger and declares, "You shall go no further on your way." The child falls down dead. (Jesus later raises him from the dead, along with others that he curses on one occasion or another.) And Jesus' wrath is not reserved for other children. Joseph sends him to school to learn to read, but Jesus refuses to recite the (Greek) alphabet. His teacher pleads with him to cooperate, until Jesus replies with a scornful challenge, "If you really are a teacher and know the letters well, tell me the power of Alpha and I'll tell you the power of Beta." More than a little perturbed, the teacher cuffs the boy on the head, the single largest mistake of an illustrious teaching career. Jesus withers him on the spot. Joseph is stricken with grief and gives an urgent order to his mother: "Do not let him go outside. Anyone who makes him angry dies."

  As time goes on, however, Jesus begins using his powers for good—saving his brother from a deadly snake bite, healing the sick, and proving remarkably handy around the house: When Joseph miscuts a board and is in danger of losing an important customer, Jesus performs a miracle to correct the mistake. The account concludes with Jesus as a twelve-year-old in the Temple, surrounded by scribes and Pharisees who hear him teach and who bless Mary for the wonderful child she has brought into the world.

  The proto-orthodox church father Irenaeus claimed that this Infancy Gospel of Thomas was forged by a group of Gnostics he calls Marcosians, who, he says, "adduce an unspeakable number of apocryphal and spurious writings, which they themselves have forged, to bewilder the minds of foolish people" (Against Heresies 1,20,1). He goes on to relate "that false and wicked story" in which the young Jesus confounds his teacher about the nature of the Alpha and the Beta. For Irenaeus, the account ties into the Marcosians' love of numbers and letters, which they adduced in order to support their heretical understandings of the divine realm. In support of this view, one might argue that since Jesus shows up his learned teachers (on two additional occasions to the one I've summarized), the book is portraying him as one with superior "gnosis."

  On the other hand, there is nothing particularly Gnostic about this text: Jesus is a real child here, who feels pain, for example, when his father yanks his ear in anger. Indeed, the text as a whole does not appear to promote a theological agenda of any particular branch of Christianity—Gnostic, proto-orthodox, or otherwise. It is probably better to think of it as a forgery in the name of Jesus' reputed brother, Thomas, derived simply from Christian imagination, a set of entertaining episodes that explore what the miracle-working Son of God may have been like as a child growing up in the household of Joseph and Mary.

  A second example of a "nontheological" forgery involves a set of letters allegedly written to and from the apostle Paul, letters that became quite famous in the Middle Ages. Paul's alleged correspondent in these letters was none other than the great Roman philosopher, Seneca. The historical Paul, of course, did not know Seneca, who ran in much higher circles: He was tutor and then political advisor to the emperor Nero and the highly prolific author of moral essays, philosophical tractates, poetical works, and scientific treatises.

  At a later time (possibly the fourth century) Christians were puzzled that the important figures in their religion, especially Jesus and Paul, were completely unknown to the major political and intellectual leaders of their day (as it turns out, neither of them is ever mentioned by any Roman author of the first century). The forged correspondence between Paul and Seneca works to redress this situation.

  Fourteen letters survive, eight allegedly from Seneca to Paul and six from Paul to Seneca. In them, Seneca and Paul are portrayed as close companions, with Seneca expressing admiration and astonishment at Paul's brilliance and learning. In return, Paul is depicted as a teacher who has convinced Seneca of the truth of the Christian message. Early on in the correspondence Seneca praises the superiority of Paul's thoughts: "They are so lofty and so brilliant with noble sentiments that in my opinion generations of men could hardly be enough to become established and perfected in them" (Letter 1 ). High praise from the greatest philosopher of Paul's day. More than that, Seneca indicates that he has read Paul's writings to the emperor Nero himself, who is astounded and moved by Paul's understanding of the truth: "[The emperor] was affected by your sentiments.... He was amazed that one whose education had not been normal [i.e., who was not highly trained] could have such ideas" (Letter 7).

  Several references in these letters provide verisimilitude for their claims to authenticity—a common ploy among forgers. In particular, Seneca refers to the fire in Rome which, according to the Roman historian Tacitus, Nero himself had started in order to destroy part of the city so as to allow him to implement his own architectural plans, blaming the Christians, then, to avoid suspicion: "That ruffian, whoever he is [this is an attempt at tact], whose pleasure is murdering and whose refuge is lying is destined for his day of reckoning, and just as the best is sacrificed as one life for many, so he shall be sacrificed for all and burned by fire" (Letter 11).

  The overarching points of these forged letters, however, are to show that Paul was known and acknowledged by one of the greatest and most influential thinkers of his day, that his views in fact were superior to the pagan philosophical traditions, and that his influence reached to the upper echelons of Roman power and authority. As they appear to have been forged sometime during the fourth century, their real author obviously did not adhere to any of the forms of lost Christianity we have been discussing, but just as obviously, his forgery is not designed to win a theological argument. Sometimes forgers had other incentives.

  Forgeries Against the Heretics

  There are numerous other instances of proto-orthodox forgery, however, in which the deceit served clear polemical purposes, in opposing "false" understandings of the religion and promoting the cause of proto-orthodoxy. To take an example drawn from the noncanonical Gospels, we might consider a book that was arguably as important to the piety and art of the Middle Ages as anything that became part of the canon, the Proto-Gospel of James. The book is called a "proto-Gospel" because it narrates events prior to and leading up to Jesus' birth and infancy. In fact, it is for the most part an account of the birth, upbringing, and young adulthood of Jesus' mother, Mary, designed to show how she was chosen by God as a worthy vessel to bear his Son.

  According to this account, Mary herself was born supernaturally, in a way very similar to and modeled on the account of the birth of the prophet Samuel in the Hebrew Bible (1 Samuel 1-2). In the opening story of the narrative, her mother, Anna (cf. Samuel's mother, Hannah), cannot bear a child. But after she and her husband, Joachim, mourn and pray to the Lord, he answers the
ir prayer and allows her to conceive. Overjoyed by the good news, Anna gives birth to a girl, names her Mary, and dedicates her to a life of service to God. As an infant, Mary is kept from any corrupting influences of daily life, as Anna builds a kind of sanctuary for her in her bedroom, and there she stays. Then, when Mary turns three, in fulfillment of Anna's vow of dedication, she is taken to live in the Temple in Jerusalem. There Mary grows up, raised in absolute purity, fed every day by the hand of an angel.

  When she turns twelve, the priests are concerned that she might defile the Temple, presumably by beginning her menstruation cycle. They decide to give her in marriage to a widower in the land of Israel. At the bidding of the high priest, every prospective man comes to a specially called meeting, and God reveals that Mary is to be given to Joseph, an elderly widower who has grown children and who is reluctant to accept the assignment.

  Joseph is meant to keep Mary chaste, and so he does. As soon as they arrive home, he immediately leaves for an extended trip to tend to some building projects. In his absence, Mary conceives by the Holy Spirit, much to Joseph's shock and horror when he returns. Still, God convinces both him and the Jewish priests (who understandably suspect that one of them has engaged in illicit activities) that Mary is still a virgin.

  The Birth of Mary, as described in the Proto-Gospel of James, by Qiotto di Bondone (1266-1336). Scrovegni Chapel, Padua, Italy.

  The story continues with the account of Joseph and Mary making a trip to Bethlehem to register for a census. But en route, Mary's birth pangs come upon her, and she is forced to come off the donkey and give birth. Joseph quickly finds a grotto outside of town, leaves her in the care of his sons, and goes off to try to find a midwife to deliver the child.

  Then comes a remarkable scene, narrated in the first person, of how time stood still when the Son of God appeared in the world:

  But I, Joseph, was walking, and I was not walking. I looked up into the air, and I saw the air greatly disturbed. I looked up to the vault of the sky, and I saw it standing still; and the birds of the sky were at rest. I looked back to the earth and saw a bowl laid out for some workers who were reclining to eat. Their hands were in the bowl, but those who were chewing were not chewing; and those who were taking something from the bowl were not lifting it up; and those who were bringing their hands to their mouths’ were not bringing them to their mouths. And everyone was looking up. And behold, a flock of sheep was being herded; yet they did not move forward but were standing still; and the shepherd raised his hand to strike them with his staff, but his hand remained in the air. I looked down at the torrential stream, and I saw some goats whose mouths were over it, but they were not drinking. Then suddenly everything returned to its normal course. (Proto-Gospel of James 18)

  An even more remarkable scene follows. Joseph locates a midwife, who comes to the cave and sees a bright cloud overshadowing it and then a child appear. Realizing that this has been a miraculous "birth," the midwife rushes out and finds a companion, another midwife, named Salome, and informs her: "Salome, Salome, I can describe a new wonder to you. A virgin has given birth, contrary to her natural condition." Salome, however, refuses to take her friend's word for it. The only way to know for certain—this is a very peculiar moment— is to give Mary a postpartum inspection. And so Salome says: "As the Lord my God lives, if I do not insert my finger and examine her condition, I will not believe that a virgin has given birth."

  Salome has committed a serious error in judgment; one should never distrust miracles of the Lord. As soon as she inserts her finger to see if Mary is still intact, her hand begins to burn as if it had caught fire. She kneels before the infant Jesus and prays, "O God of my fathers, remember that I am a descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Do not make me up an example to the sons of Israel, but deliver me over to the poor. For you know, O Master, that I have performed my services in your name and have received my wages from you" (Proto-Gospel of James, 20). An angel appears and tells Salome to pick up the child; she does so, and her hand is healed.

  The account continues by describing the visit of the wise men; the destruction of all the babies of Bethlehem by Herod the Great; the miraculous escape by Jesus' cousin, the infant John (the Baptist), and his mother, Elizabeth, who are both swallowed up by a mountain to keep them from the soldiers' grasp; and the murder of John's father, Zacharias, in the Temple. It ends with a comment by the alleged author, who claims to be "James."

  And who is James? It is the brother of Jesus himself (see Gal. 1:19). Who would know better about Jesus' family history and birth than his (step) brother? The real author, however, was probably living in the second half of the second century. Clearly he had theological concerns, compatible with a proto-orthodox agenda. Jesus here is portrayed as the Son of God at birth—in contrast, say, to the views of the Marcionite Christians, who claimed that Jesus descended from heaven as a full-grown but phantasmal adult at the start of his ministry. And here Jesus is born of a virgin, in contrast, say, to the views of the Ebionite Christians, who believed he was the natural son of Joseph and Mary. In fact, in this text, Mary not only conceives as a virgin; she remains a virgin (i.e., physically intact) even after giving birth, as Salome learns in such unambiguous terms. The perpetual virginity of Mary became an important doctrine in later Christianity, intimately related to the doctrine of her own "assumption," that is, her ascent into heaven without dying, made possible by the circumstance that she had never sinned—for example, by having sex.

  Moreover, as a result of her perpetual virginity, the "brothers" of Jesus, who are also mentioned in the New Testament Gospels (e.g., Mark 6, John 7), are portrayed here not as his actual brothers, born of Joseph and Mary. They are Joseph's children from a previous marriage. This view created problems for the reception of the Proto-Gospel of James in the fourth century, as the greatest Christian scholar of the period, Jerome, insisted that James, Jude, and the others were not in fact Jesus' stepbrothers but his cousins. Jerome's opposition to this Gospel account was enough to limit its influence on Western, Latin-speaking Christianity. But it continued to enjoy popularity in eastern Christendom, as evidenced by the abundant number of Greek manuscripts that preserve it (there are over a hundred) and by its influence on Christian art.

  A second example of a proto-orthodox forgery produced in order to counter heretical views may be found in another letter allegedly from Paul, but this one (unlike the correspondence with Seneca) focused on doctrinal concerns. The letter is embedded in the Acts of Paul as a response to questions that the Christians of Corinth allegedly raised, in a letter also forged for the occasion. Paul's reply is commonly known as Corinthians.

  Readers of the New Testament are familiar with Corinthians, but most people have never heard of Corinthians. The book is nonetheless preserved in a number of ancient manuscripts of the New Testament and was eventually accepted as part of the canon by Armenian and some early Syrian Christians. In some ways, Corinthians continues the conversation between Paul and the Corinthians found in the canonical letters. As we have seen, the church in Corinth had encountered some severe difficulties soon after Paul had founded it, and Paul's authentic letters reflect these problems. The community was experiencing serious disunity among its members, to the extent that some were taking others to court over their differences. There was chaos in the worship services, including their periodic communal meals, at which some members were gorging themselves and getting drunk while others had almost nothing to eat and drink. There were instances of gross immorality, including some men in the church visiting prostitutes and bragging about it in church and one other man living with his stepmother. And several genuine questions had arisen concerning proper behavior in this world: Is it right, for example, to eat meat that had already been sacrificed to pagan idols? And if bodily pleasure is to be restricted, is it permissible to have sex with your spouse? Presumably the latter question was not being asked by the men who were consorting with prostitutes."

  The biggest problem in Corinth, how
ever, was one that Paul chose to deal with at the end of his first letter: There were people in the congregation who did not understand, accept, or believe that there was to be a future resurrection of the fleshly body. According to them, the resurrection was a spiritual event that had already occurred for believers, presumably at their baptism. These believers, therefore, claimed already to be living a spiritual existence, transcending the needs and restrictions placed on their bodies. This was the major problem in the community, and it lay at the root of all the others. It explains why they were disunified (different Christians were trying to show their spiritual superiority) and how they could justify their immoral behavior (if the body doesn't matter, then it doesn't matter what you do with your body). In Corinthians, however, Paul stresses that salvation is not yet complete but is still future. Salvation will come when Jesus returns to redeem this body by raising it from mortality to immortality (1 Corinthians 15). Eternal life, therefore, will be a bodily, not just a spiritual, existence. As a result, it does matter what one does with the body, both the individual body of the believer and the collective body of the church.

  Some of these same problems are evident in the later forged correspondence of Corinthians as well. As I indicated, the letter is introduced in the Acts of Paul by a letter allegedly from the Corinthians to Paul. The Corinthians write that they have been disturbed by the teachings of two teachers, Simon and Cleobius, who maintain that the Old Testament prophets are not valid, that the God of this world is not the true God, that the true God did not create humans, that there is no future resurrection of the flesh, that Jesus was not really flesh and blood, and that he was not really born of Mary. In other words, these alleged opponents are some kind of docetist, like Marcion or possibly some kind of Gnostic.