When I was a child, I desperately wanted to be an acolyte at my church.
Mind, I wasn’t sure exactly what an acolyte did beyond light the candles and look solemn while Mr. Beck, our pastor, led the service. But I knew that it was an important and serious job, and because I took religion seriously, I badly wanted to be an acolyte.
Alas, we moved to Virginia the year that I turned ten, which was the minimum age for acolytes. Worse, my parents were unable to find a suitable congregation to join despite diligently church-shopping for the first few weeks we were in Blacksburg. The local religious institutions were either too emotional, too ceremonial, or too close to the ecstatic religiosity of Kathryn Kuhlman, a now-forgotten preacher and faith healer who had promised the good people of Mum’s hometown she’d build a tabernacle if they’d only contribute enough seed money. Kuhlman had collected a large if unspecified sum and then gone elsewhere to build her tabernacle, leaving Mum with a permanent hatred of tent preachers that made Sinclair Lewis’ acid-tinged portrait of Elmer Gantry look mild indeed.
We never belonged to a regular congregation again; Mum and I did attend a North America Synod Lutheran church for a while after we moved back to Pittsburgh, but that ended after they called a Missouri Synod pastor for some inexplicable reason. This man of the cloth immediately alienated a quarter of the congregation his very first Christmas at the church by preaching about Armageddon during the children's service. Worse, he then drowned out the wails of innocents who had had their dreams of Santa Claus wrecked by inflicting his talentless nephew’s alleged violin playing on the hapless congregants in an instrumental version of O Holy Night that sounded like the Klingon death scream.
That memorable holiday came as close to making me an atheist as anything in my life, but I remained keenly interested in religion regardless. Eventually I joined the Unitarian Society in Northampton during my junior year of college, although Mum initially thought I’d joined the Unification Church and was horrified at the thought of me selling half-wilted flowers at the nearest airport.
I sighed with what I then considered remarkable patience and said, “No, Mum. Think Ralph Waldo Emerson. Henry David Thoreau. Margaret – “
“Oh, those Unitarians!”
“Yes, Mum. Those Unitarians. The Transcendentalists. Remember?”
“Of course!” There was an audible pause on the other end of the line. “Just let me break the news to your aunt, all right? You know she’s a Presbyterian.”
I’ve remained a Unitarian ever since despite several efforts to persuade me to join, respectively, a megachurch, an Anglo-Catholic congregation, and, in a peculiar incident that still puzzles me, the Roman Catholic Church so that I could work for women’s ordination and gay rights from within. I even have a t-shirt with a woodcut of proto-Unitarian Michael Servetus LINK on the front and “Unitarian Universalism: 450 years of heresy” on the back.
I’ve also accumulated quite a few books and magazines on religion, from a small collection of hymnals to a complete run of the late, lamented Gnosis Magazine. Many concern Christianity and were acquired during my time at Hartford Seminary, but I have plenty on New Age religions, esoterica, the Rosicrucian Enlightenment of the early 17th century, Judaism, and Neo-Paganism and Wicca.
And of course, I have more than one Gospel So Bad It’s Good.
Most people think that there are only four Gospels, or books that tell the Good News of Jesus: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. In actuality there were several dozen, almost all of which were written long after the man known as Yeshua bar Yosef was executed as a criminal by the Roman authorities. One of these non-canonical texts, the Gospel of Thomas, may well be the exception; experts such as Stephen Patterson and Richard Valantasis believe that this collection of sayings may be as old as the Gospel of John, or possibly older. There have even been calls to add Thomas to the New Testament, although it’s hard to see how this could be marketed to anyone but seminary students.
There are also several fragmentary gospels attributed to the likes of Phillip, Peter, Mary of Magdala, and even Pontius Pilate. These are unanimously rejected as post-Jesus pseudopigrapha or outright forgeries, although the individual texts themselves are quite illuminating. Many, the so-called Gnostic Gospels, were found at Nag Hammadi in Egypt, including the Gospel of Thomas. Other early texts that may or may not have some connection to early Christianity and Near Eastern mysticism include a long, stunning poem written in the voice of Wisdom Herself, The Thunder, Perfect Mind.
Some of these texts are insightful and interesting. Others are so self-referential as to be unintelligible, while others are so ridiculous that it's hard to believe that anyone took them seriously.
Tonight for your consideration I bring two splendid examples of what Per Beskow called "strange tales about Jesus." Both claim to be ancient but are suspiciously modern in thought and language:
The Gospel of the Holy Twelve, by Rev. Gideon Jasper Richard Ouseley M.A. Back at the turn of the last century, a curious book appeared. Purportedly based on ancient manuscripts preserved in a Tibetan monastery, The Gospel of the Holy Twelve was a "corrected" version of the Synoptic Gospels that portrayed Jesus as a vegetarian, non-drinker, and animal lover who preached reverence for all life.
The "editor," Rev. Ouseley, stated that he had acquired this precious "original Gospel" in 1881. An Essene follower of Jesus had desired to keep it free of the corruption and edits of "flesh eaters" and the followers of Emperor Constantine:
the Roman Churchmen at Nicea opposed these doctrines [vegetarianism and temperance] and eliminated them from the Gospels, which they radically changed so as to be acceptable to Constantine, who loved the red meats and flowing wine of his midnight feasts too much to accept a religion that prohibited these pleasures....
Rev. Ouseley recognized the value of the text, which had been kept in a "buddhistic monastery [sic]" for safekeeping, and translated the original Aramaic into English. He claimed that the "correctors" hired by the meat-loving Roman clergy had seriously mutilated the original text and corrupted the message of Jesus. He published his translation between 1898 and 1901. It has never been out of print, and anyone who loves little animals will rejoice in passages such as this:
7. AND as Jesus entered into a certain village he saw a young cat which had none to care for her, and she was hungry and cried unto him, and he took her up, and put her inside his garment, and she lay in his bosom.
8. And when he came into the village he set food and drink before the cat, and she ate and drank, and shewed thanks unto him. And he gave her unto one of his disciples, who was a widow, whose name was Lorenza, and she took care of her.
Verily this indeed describes a miracle proving that Jesus was more than a man; as any cat owner can testify, the customary feline reaction to having food and drink set before her is not shewing gratitude, but rather frantic gobbling followed by a contemptuous glare when the food turns out to be nothing more than Meow Mix or some mixture of fish guts pureed and served in a plastic dish, followed by several minutes of intense, public, and very much intentional butt licking. That Jesus found a kitten that refrained from these practices in favor of settling down with a kindly widow is proof that, at the very least, he had a deep and abiding understanding of the walnut-sized chunk of neurons called the feline brain.
Other unfamiliar material includes Jesus healing a beaten horse, freeing a group of rabbits and pigeons that followers had brought for lunch, and constantly denouncing the practice of eating meat. Even familiar Biblical passages, such as the Feeding of the Multitudes, are revealed to be mere reflections of the original glory:
1. AND it came to pass as Jesus had been teaching the multitudes, and they were hungry and faint by reason of the heat of the day, that there passed by that way a woman on a camel laden with melons and other fruits.
2. And Jesus lifted up his voice and cried, O ye that thirst, seek ye the living water which cometh from Heaven, for this is the water of life, which whoso drinketh thirsteth not again.
3. And he took of the fruit, five melons and divided them among the people, and they eat, and their thirst was quenched, and he said unto them, If God maketh the sun to shine, and the water to fill out these fruits of the earth, shall not the Same be the Sun of your souls, and fill you with the water of life?
4. Seek ye the truth and let your souls be satisfied. The truth of God is that water which cometh from heaven, without money and without price, and they who drink shall be satisfied. And those whom he fed were one thousand men, women and children—and none of them went home ahungered or athirst; and many that had fever were healed.
I must admit that snacking on juicy melons sounds better than munching on dry bread and fish, especially in the August heat. And who knew that fruit was a great remedy for fever, or that watermelons were a gift from God Himself?
Alas, Biblical scholars have long dismissed this version of the Gospel as a well meaning and somewhat clumsy forgery. Others have pointed out the average Essene would not have known how to get to Tibet, had the money and time to journey there, or necessarily trusted Buddhists to preserve a holy book when the caves above Qumran were much closer and easier to get to. Even groups with a vested interest in a vegetarian Jesus who loves kittens and satisfies his followers with summer fruits, like PETA, have been unable to find the original manuscript, or indeed any evidence that the Gospel of the Holy Twelve was known to anyone, at any time, prior to Rev. Ouseley's translation.
That this is a great pity is obvious; vegetarianism is a healthy and low cost way of eating, and who doesn't believe in kindness to animals? Endorsement by Jesus himself would only be to the benefit of society, especially when it comes to countering right wing beliefs in the the Fightin' Jesus. That there is no proof that this remarkable book is authentic is a crime; if nothing else, holy vegetarianism and a cat loving Jesus might explain why my cat Siren, old and infirm as she is, still prefers strawberries to all other foods, and regularly begs for kale and collard greens.
The Essene Gospel of Jesus, by Edmond Bordeaux Szekely. Edmond Bordeaux Szekely, translator of this remarkable version of the Gospel of John, was a Hungarian naturalist, psychologist, and "natural living experimenter."
The child of a Unitarian father and a Roman Catholic mother, he taught at a university in what is now Cluj, Romania, then founded the International Biogenic Society in 1928. The IBS, which promoted natural living, ecology, and vegetarianism, is now primarily a publisher devoted to keeping Dr. Szekely's works in print, but the Szekely family ranch in Baja, California, Rancho la Puerta, is now a holistic health spa still run his relatives. It's considered one of the world's leading resort spa, and its regimen of organic vegetarian cuisine, yoga, Ayurveda, Pilates, and exercise is still headed by Dr. Szekely's first wife, Deborah.
Given Dr. Szekely's interest in natural living, it's not surprising that he was drawn to the ideas expressed in The Gospel of Peace. Allegedly based on a manuscript the good Doctor found in the Vatican during his student days in 1923 and a Hebrew original in the legendary monastery of Monte Cassino, supplemented by a Slavonic version owned by the Habsburgs, The Gospel of Peace purports to prove that Jesus and his followers were Essenes, an ascetic Jewish sect of the early Common Era. The text corresponds closely to Dr. Szekely's own beliefs in vegetarianism, natural living, and wholesome, healthy foods.
It also reveals an oddly prescient belief in the Motherhood of God not found in the canonical Gospels (or The Gospel of the Holy Twelve, allegedly hidden in a "buddhistic monastery" by an Essene):
"Your Mother is in you, and you in her. She bore you she gives you life. it was she who gave to you your body, and to her shall you one day give it back again. Happy are you when you come to know her and her kingdom; if you receive your Mother's angels and if you do her laws. I tell you truly, he who does these things shall never see disease. For the power of our Mother is above all. And it destroys Satan and his kingdom, and has rule over all your bodies and all living things.
"The blood which runs in us is born of the blood of our Earthly Mother. Her blood falls from the clouds; leaps from the womb of the earth; babbles in the brooks of the mountains; flows wide in the rivers of the plains; sleeps in the lakes; rages mightily in tempestuous seas.
"The air which we breathe is born of the breath of our Earthly Mother. Her breath is azure in the heights of t heavens; soughs in the tops of the mountains; whispers the leaves of the forest; billows over the cornfields; slumbers in the deep valleys, burns hot in the desert.
"The hardness of our bones is born of the bones of our Earthly Mother, of the rocks and of the stones. They stand naked to the heavens on the tops of mountains; are as giants that lie sleeping on the sides of the mountains, as idols set in the desert, and are hidden in the deepness of the earth.
"The tenderness of our flesh is born of the flesh of our Earthly Mother; whose flesh waxes yellow and red in the fruits of the trees, and nurtures us in the furrows of the fields.
"Our bowels are born of the bowels of our Earthly Mother, and are hid from our eyes, like the invisible depths of the earth.
"The light of our eyes, the hearing of our ears, both are born of the colors and the sounds of our Earthly Mother; which enclose us about, as the waves of the sea a fish, as the eddying air a bird.
This poetic language, so different from anything in the Bible, is astonishingly close that seen in Neo-Pagan and feminist religious texts, such as Dreaming the Dark or Principia Discordia. Why it has not been incorporated into the standard Bible is a great mystery.
Alas, other portions of The Gospel of Peace are nowhere near as poetic. The Jesus seen here may appreciate the Motherhood of God, but he also knows the value of interior as well as exterior baptism:
"Think not that it is sufficient that the angel of water embrace you outwards only. I tell you truly, the uncleanness within is greater by much than the uncleanness without. And he who cleanses himself without, but within remains unclean, is like to tombs that outwards are painted fair, but are within full of all manner of horrible uncleannesses and abominations. So I tell you truly, suffer the angel of water to baptize you also within, that you may become free from all your past sins, and that within likewise you may become as pure as the river's foam sporting in the sunlight.
"Seek, therefore, a large trailing gourd, having a stalk the length of a man; take out its inwards and fill it with water from the river which the sun has warmed. Hang it upon the branch of a tree, and kneel upon the ground before the angel of water, and suffer the end of the stalk of the trailing gourd to enter your hinder parts, that the water may flow through all your bowels. Afterwards rest kneeling on the ground before the angel of water and pray to the living God that he will forgive you all your past sins, and pray the angel of water that he will free your body from every uncleanness and disease. Then let the water run out from your body, that it may carry away from within it all the unclean and evil-smelling things of Satan. And you shall see with your eyes and smell with your nose all the abominations, and uncleannesses which defiled the temple of your body; even all the sins which abode in your body, tormenting you with all manner of pains. I tell you truly, baptism with water frees you from all of these.
That's right: Jesus gives explicit instructions on how to self-administer an enema as a means to spiritual wisdom and the forgiveness of sins, as well as good health and long life. With a "large trailing gourd." Does the reader need more proof that colonics can work miracles?
Unfortunately, just as the Gospel of the Holy Twelve has been denounced as a well meaning forgery, Dr. Szekely's efforts have been scorned by the scholarly community. The Vatican refuses to admit that such a manuscript is in its archives, or that Dr. Szekely ever was allowed to study there. Worse, the Hebrew original was destroyed when Monte Cassino was bombed flat in World War II by an American army that may or may not have included my uncle, while the Slavonic version once owned by the Habsburgs is clearly worthless for scholarly purposes.
Woe! for imagine the great benefits to world health if one of these precious texts appears in an old buddhistic archive! Would not the average believer benefit from learning of the Motherhood of God? And imagine the health benefits (and the enterpreneurial evangelistic opportunities) of internal baptism! Isn't this exactly what the stagnant and materialistic Church needs?
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So, fellow seekers - what know you of strange and long-suppressed Gospels? Do you have a copy of The Book of Mormon in your basement? The Aquarian Gospel in your closet? Come, let us create our own scriptorium to preserve this lost wisdom for the ages....