The hypothesis of marriage becomes all the more tenable by virtue of the title of "Rabbi," which is frequently applied to Jesus in the Gospels. It is possible, of course, that this term is employed in its very broadest sense, meaning simply a self-appointed teacher. But Jesus’ literacy—his display of knowledge to the elders in the temple, for example—strongly suggests that he was more than a self-appointed teacher. It suggests that he underwent some species of formal rabbinical training and was officially recognized as a rabbi. This would conform to tradition, which depicts Jesus as a rabbi in the strict sense of the word. But if Jesus was a rabbi in the strict sense of the word, a marriage would not only have been likely, but virtually certain. The Jewish Mishnaic Law is quite explicit on the subject. "An unmarried man may not be a teacher."11
In the Fourth Gospel, there is an episode related to a marriage that may, in fact, have been Jesus’ own. This episode is, of course, the wedding at Cana—a familiar enough story. But for all its familiarity, there are certain salient questions attending it that warrant consideration.
From the account in the Fourth Gospel the wedding at Cana would seem to be a modest local ceremony—a typical village wedding whose bride and groom remain anonymous. To this wedding Jesus is specifically "called"—which is slightly curious, perhaps, for he has not yet really embarked on his ministry. More curious still, however, is the fact that his mother "just happens," as it were, to be present. And her presence would seem to be taken for granted. It is certainly not in any way explained.
What is more, it is Mary who not merely suggests to her son, but in effect orders him, to replenish the wine. She behaves quite as if she were the hostess. "And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come." (John 2:3-4) But Mary, thoroughly unperturbed, ignores her son’s protest. "His mother saith unto the servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it." (5) And the servants promptly comply—quite as if they were accustomed to receiving orders from both Mary and Jesus.
Despite Jesus’ ostensible attempt to disown her, Mary prevails; and Jesus thereupon performs his first major miracle, the transmutation of water into wine. So far as the Gospels are concerned, he has not hitherto displayed his powers, and there is no reason for Mary to assume he even possesses them. But even if there were, why should such unique and holy gifts be employed for so banal a purpose? Why should Mary make such a request of her son? More important still, why should two "guests" at a wedding take on themselves the responsibility of catering—a responsibility that, by custom, should be reserved for the host? Unless, of course, the wedding at Cana is Jesus’ own wedding. In that case it would indeed be his responsibility to replenish the wine.
There is further evidence that the wedding at Cana is in fact Jesus’ own. Immediately after the miracle has been performed the "governor of the feast"—a kind of major-domo or master of ceremonies— tastes the newly produced wine. "The governor of the feast called the bridegroom, And saith unto him, Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now." (John 2:9-10. Our italics.) These words would clearly seem to be addressed to Jesus. According to the Gospel, however, they are addressed to the "bridegroom." An obvious conclusion is that Jesus and the "bridegroom" are one and the same.
THE WIFE OF JESUS
If Jesus was married, is there any indication in the Gospels of the identity of his wife?
On first consideration there would appear to be two possible candidates—two women, apart from his mother, who are mentioned repeatedly in the Gospels as being of his entourage. The first of these is the Magdalen—or more precisely, Mary from the village of Migdal, or Magdala, in Galilee. In all four Gospels this woman’s role is singularly ambiguous and seems to have been deliberately obscured. In the accounts of Mark and Matthew she is not mentioned by name until quite late. When she does appear, it is in Judaea, at the time of the Crucifixion, and she is numbered among Jesus’ followers. In the Gospel of Luke, however, she appears relatively early in Jesus’ ministry, while he is still preaching in Galilee. It would thus seem that she accompanies him from Galilee to Judaea—or if not, that she at least moves between the two provinces as readily as he does. This in itself strongly suggests that she was married to someone. In the Palestine of Jesus’ time it would have been unthinkable for an unmarried woman to travel unaccompanied—and even more so to travel unaccompanied with a religious teacher and his entourage. A number of traditions seem to have taken cognizance of this potentially embarrassing fact. Thus, it is sometimes claimed that the Magdalen was married to one of Jesus’ disciples. If that was the case, however, her special relationship with Jesus and her proximity to him would have rendered both of them subject to suspicions, if not charges, of adultery.
Popular tradition notwithstanding, the Magdalen is not, at any point in any of the Gospels, said to be a prostitute. When she is first mentioned in the Gospel of Luke, she is described as a woman "out of whom went seven devils." It is generally assumed that this phrase refers to a species of exorcism on Jesus’ part, implying the Magdalen was "possessed." But the phrase may equally refer to some sort of conversion and/or ritual initiation. The cult of Ishtar or Astarte— the mother goddess and "Queen of Heaven"—involved, for example, a seven-stage initiation. Prior to her affiliation with Jesus the Magdalen may well have been associated with such a cult.
One chapter before he speaks of the Magdalen, Luke alludes to a woman who anoints Jesus. In the Gospel of Mark there is a similar anointment by an unnamed woman. Neither Luke nor Mark explicitly identifies this woman with the Magdalen. But Luke reports that she was a "fallen woman," a "sinner." Subsequent commentators have assumed that the Magdalen, since she apparently had seven devils cast out of her, must have been a sinner. On this basis the Magdalen and the woman who anoints Jesus came to be regarded as the same person. In fact, they may well have been. If the Magdalen was associated with a pagan cult, that would certainly have rendered her a "sinner" in the eyes not only of Luke but of later writers as well.
If the Magdalen was a "sinner," she was also, quite clearly, something more than the common prostitute of popular tradition. Quite clearly she was a woman of means. Luke reports, for example, that her friends included the wife of a high dignitary at Herod’s court—and that both women, together with various others, supported Jesus and his disciples with their financial resources. The woman who anointed Jesus was also a woman of means. In Mark’s Gospel great stress is laid upon the costliness of the spikenard ointment with which the ritual was performed.
The whole episode of Jesus’ anointing would seem to be an affair of considerable consequence. Why else would it be emphasized by the Gospels to the extent it is? Given its prominence, it appears to be something more than an impulsive spontaneous gesture. It appears to be a carefully premeditated rite. One must remember that anointing was the traditional prerogative of kings—and of the "rightful Messiah," which means "the anointed one." From this it follows that Jesus becomes an authentic Messiah by virtue of his anointing. And the woman who consecrates him in that august role can hardly be unimportant.
In any case it is clear that the Magdalen, by the end of Jesus’ ministry, had become a figure of immense significance. In the three Synoptic Gospels her name consistently heads the lists of women who followed Jesus, just as Simon Peter heads the list of male disciples. And, of course, she was the first witness to the empty tomb following the Crucifixion. Among all his devotees it was to the Magdalen that Jesus first chose to reveal his Resurrection.
Throughout the Gospels Jesus treats the Magdalen in a unique and preferential manner. Such treatment may well have induced jealousy in other disciples. It would seem fairly obvious that later tradition endeavored to blacken the Magdalen’s background, if not her name. The portrayal of her as a harlot may well have been the overcompensation of a vindictive following inte
nt on impugning the reputation of a woman whose association with Jesus was closer than their own and thus inspired on all too human envy. If other "Christians," either during Jesus’ lifetime or afterward, grudged the Magdalen her unique bond with their spiritual leader, there might well have been an attempt to diminish her in the eyes of posterity. There is no question that she was so diminished. Even today one thinks of her as a harlot, and during the Middle Ages houses for reformed prostitutes were called Magdalens. But the Gospels themselves bear witness that the woman who imparted her name to these institutions did not deserve to be so stigmatized.
Whatever the status of the Magdalen in the Gospels, she is not the only possible candidate for Jesus’ wife. There is one other, who figures most prominently in the Fourth Gospel and who may be identified as Mary of Bethany, sister of Martha and Lazarus. She and her family are clearly on very familiar terms with Jesus. They are also wealthy, maintaining a house in a fashionable suburb of Jerusalem large enough to accommodate Jesus and his entire entourage. What is more, the Lazarus episode reveals that this house contains a private tomb—a somewhat flamboyant luxury in Jesus’ time, not only a sign of wealth but also a status symbol attesting to aristocratic connections. In biblical Jerusalem, as in any modern city, land was at a premium and only a very few could afford the self-indulgence of a private burial site.
When in the Fourth Gospel Lazarus falls ill, Jesus has left Bethany for a few days and is staying with his disciples on the Jordan. Hearing of what had happened, he nevertheless delays for two days—a rather curious reaction—and then returns to Bethany, where Lazarus lies in the tomb. As he approaches, Martha rushes forth to meet him and cries, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." (John 11:21) It is a perplexing assertion, for why should Jesus’ physical presence necessarily have prevented the man’s death? But the incident is significant because Martha, when she greets Jesus, is alone. One would expect Mary, her sister, to be with her. Mary, however, is sitting in the house—and does not emerge until Jesus explicitly commands her to do so. The point becomes clearer in the "secret" Gospel of Mark, discovered by Professor Morton Smith and cited earlier in this chapter. In the suppressed account by Mark, it would appear that Mary does emerge from the house before Jesus instructs her to do so. And she is promptly and angrily rebuked by the disciples, whom Jesus is obliged to silence.
It would be plausible enough for Mary to be sitting in the house when Jesus arrives in Bethany. In accordance with Jewish custom she would be "sitting shivah"—sitting in mourning. But why does she not join Martha and rush to meet Jesus on his return? There is one obvious explanation. By the tenets of Judaic law at the time, a woman "sitting shivah" would have been strictly forbidden to emerge from the house except at the express bidding of her husband. In this incident the behavior of Jesus and Mary of Bethany conforms precisely to the traditional comportment of a Jewish husband and wife.
There is additional evidence for a possible marriage between Jesus and Mary of Bethany. It occurs, more or less as a non sequitur, in the Gospel of Luke:
Now it came to pass, as they went, that he [Jesus] entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house.
And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word.
But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.
And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:
But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her. (Luke 10:38-42)
From Martha’s appeal it would seem apparent that Jesus exercises some sort of authority over Mary. More important still, however, is Jesus’ reply. In any other context one would not hesitate to interpret this reply as an allusion to a marriage. In any case it clearly suggests that Mary of Bethany was as avid a disciple as the Magdalen.
There is substantial reason for regarding the Magdalen and the woman who anoints Jesus as one and the same person. Could this person, we wondered, also be one and the same with Mary of Bethany, sister of Lazarus and Martha? Could these women who, in the Gospels, appear in three different contexts in fact be a single person? The medieval Church certainly regarded them as such, and so did popular tradition. Many biblical scholars today concur. There is abundant evidence to support such a conclusion.
The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and John, for example, all cite the Magdalen as being present at the Crucifixion. None of them cites Mary of Bethany. But if Mary of Bethany was as devoted a disciple as she appears to be, her absence would seem to be, at the least, remiss. Is it credible that she—not to mention her brother, Lazarus— would fail to be a witness at the climactic moment of Jesus’ life? Such an omission would be both inexplicable and reprehensible; unless, of course, she was present and cited by the Gospels as such under the name of the Magdalen. If the Magdalen and Mary of Bethany are one and the same, there is no question of the latter’s having been absent from the Crucifixion.
The Magdalen can be identified with Mary of Bethany. The Magdalen can also be identified with the woman who anoints Jesus. The Fourth Gospel identifies the woman who anoints Jesus with Mary of Bethany. Indeed, the author of the Fourth Gospel is quite explicit on the matter:
Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of Mary and her sister Martha.
(It was that Mary which anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick.) (John II:1-2)
And again one chapter later:
Then Jesus six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was which had been dead, whom he raised from the dead.
There they made him a supper; and Martha served; but Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with him.
Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odor of the ointment. (John 12:1-3)
It is thus clear that Mary of Bethany and the woman who anoints Jesus are the same woman. If not equally clear, it is certainly probable that this woman is also the Magdalen. If Jesus was indeed married, there would thus seem to be only one candidate for his wife—one woman who recurs repeatedly in the Gospels under different names and in different roles.
THE BELOVED DISCIPLE
If the Magdalen and Mary of Bethany are the same woman and if this woman was Jesus’ wife, Lazarus would have been Jesus’s brother-in-law. Is there any evidence in the Gospels to suggest that Lazarus did indeed enjoy such a status?
Lazarus does not figure by name in the Gospels of Luke, Matthew, and Mark—although his "resurrection from the dead" was originally contained in Mark’s account and then excised. As a result Lazarus is known to posterity only through the Fourth Gospel—the Gospel of John. But here it is clear that he does enjoy some species of preferential treatment—which is not confined to being "raised from the dead." In this and a number of other respects, he would appear, if anything, to be closer to Jesus than the disciples themselves. And yet, curiously enough, the Gospels do not even number him among the disciples.
Unlike the disciples Lazarus is actually menaced. According to the Fourth Gospel the chief priests, on resolving to dispatch Jesus, decided to kill Lazarus as well (John 12:10). Lazarus is said to have been active in some way on Jesus’ behalf—which is more than can be said of some of the disciples. In theory this should have qualified him to be a disciple himself—and yet he is still not cited as such. Nor is he said to have been present at the Crucifixion—an apparently shameless display of ingratitude in a man who, quite literally, owed Jesus his life. Granted, he might have gone into hiding, given the threat directed against him. But it is extremely curious that there is no further reference to him in the Gospels. He seems to have vanished completely and is never mention
ed again. Or is he? We attempted to examine the matter more closely.
After staying in Bethany for three months Jesus retires with his disciples to the banks of the Jordan, not much more than a day’s distance away. Here a messenger hastens to him with the news that Lazarus is ill. But the messenger does not refer to Lazarus by name. On the contrary, he portrays the sick man as someone of very special importance. "Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick." (John 11:3) Jesus’ reaction to this news is distinctly odd. Instead of returning posthaste to the succor of the man he supposedly loves, he blithely dismisses the matter: "When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby." (11:4) And if his words are perplexing, his actions are even more so: "When he heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was." (11:6) In short Jesus continues to dally at the Jordan for another two days despite the alarming news he has received. At last he resolves to return to Bethany. And then he flagrantly contradicts his previous statement by telling the disciples that Lazarus is dead. He is still unperturbed, however. Indeed, he states plainly that Lazarus’ "death" has served some purpose and is to be turned to account. "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep." (11:11) And four verses later he virtually admits that the whole affair has been carefully stage-managed and arranged in advance: "And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe; nevertheless, let us go unto him." (11:15) If such behavior is bewildering, the reaction of the disciples is no less so. "Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto his fellow disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him." (11:16) What does this mean? If Lazarus is literally dead, surely the disciples have no intention of joining him by a collective suicide! And how is one to account for Jesus’ own insouciance—the blase indifference with which he hears of Lazarus’ illness and his delay in returning to Bethany?
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