//In today’s verse, Jesus and his disciples pass through Samaria on the way to Jerusalem. The Samaritans, despising Jerusalem, do not welcome Jesus on his way. So, James and John ask if the Samaritans should be destroyed by fire.

James and John, you may recall, were nicknamed the “Sons of Thunder” by Jesus, a reference to the two twin sons of Zeus. These two sons sat on each side of the throne of Zeus, the children of the sky, controlling thunder and lightning. Recall also the desire of J&J’s mother, who once asked Jesus if James and John could sit one on his left and the other on his right when Jesus came into glory. A glory which apparently was emphasized by consuming fire.

Thus in today’s verse, James and John refer back to the fiery prophet Elijah and his punishment of the prophets of Baal. In a contest to see which prophets (Yahweh’s or Baal’s) were serving the true God, Elijah called fire down from heaven. This was a perfect time, they reasoned, for Jesus to let them play with fire.

But Jesus turned and rebuked James and John, saying, “You do not know what manner of spirit you are of.” Jesus rejected the spirit of Elijah, and his treatment of those who espoused a different religion, in favor of a peaceful respect for religious differences. No sons of thunder that day.

★★★★

I smiled at D’Sousa’s portrayal of liberal Christians (readers know me as one): “Instead of being the church’s missionaries to the world, they have become the world’s missionaries to the church. They devote their moral energies to trying to make the church more democratic, to assure equal rights for women, to legitimize homosexual marriage, and so on … Liberal Christians are distinguished by how much intellectual and moral ground they concede to the adversaries of Christianity.” Guilty as charged.

So D’Sousa is unafraid to voice his opinion, but they are admittedly studied opinions, fun to contemplate, and worth the effort. His purpose, of course, is to highlight what is great about Christianity. This he does by appealing to our Christian roots in America, debunking atheist arguments about the evils of Christianity through the ages and instead listing Christianity’s accomplishments, and appealing to our common sense of values and morals as God-given. In discussing Christianity’s failings (such as witch hunts and holy wars) D’Sousa points out that atheist regimes have destroyed far more lives than Christian regimes (he convincingly paints Hitler as an atheist).

D’Sousa’s writing is engaging and intelligent, but he occasionally seems to miss the point. His portrayal of how atheists think is off the mark. He claims the Anthropic Principle for his side, to argue for design, favoring, without making a distinction, the “strong” variant—that the creation must have been fine tuned (presumably by a designer) to meet the needs of intelligent life. He ignores the AP’s weaker and more original stance—that of course the universe contains the natural laws and perfect timing for life to evolve, because if perchance it did not, no one would know it. The weak Anthropic Principle hints that there may be other unfriendly universes where no life could evolve, an idea which D’Sousa dismisses with a wave of his hand, stating that such speculation would hardly survive Occam’s Razor.

Of critical importance in D’Sousa’s Christianity is miracles. (What happened to Occam’s Razor?) He rightly notes that Christianity is founded upon a miracle: the resurrection of Jesus. He quotes Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:14 to say that without Christ’s resurrection, “our preaching is useless and so is your faith” (D’Sousa ignores the fact that Paul saw the risen Jesus not as a physical resurrection, but as a light from heaven, and presumes other Jesus sightings were the same). From a required belief in bodily resurrection, D’Sousa extrapolates to define a Christian as one who believes literally in all of the nature miracles reported in the New Testament. Don’t believe a man could really walk on water? Then you’re not a Christian. I’m not complaining—I’m quite used to this attitude—I’m just pointing out where D’Sousa draws the line between believer and nonbeliever. D’Sousa’s line requires a belief in nature miracles.

There is no condemnation of competing religions in this book, and only a small argument at the very end of the book for the historicity of the Christ story, by arguing that the resurrection really happened. This book is not really going to convince you that the Bible is true; more effort goes into finding room for a creator god in our philosophy (the big bang discovery really helped!), and accepting that religion is good for us. But perhaps this is the appropriate direction for 21st-century apologetics? We recognize the accomplishments of science, and that by making our life better, science “works”—yet we also recognize science’s shortcomings and the viability of a creator. Evolution, while certainly true, cannot account for the origin of life, consciousness, human rationality or morality (here, D’Souza’s arguments for a soul seem to compete with his assumption that only humans have souls). So why dump on Christianity as a solution? As D’Souza points out, Christianity “works” too, bringing meaning and comfort to lives, speaking to human longings and needs.

While many of the topics D’Souza introduces are unoriginal, his arguments are well-prepared and often fresh. In rereading my review, I may have come down a little harder than intended; the fact is I very much enjoyed the book.

Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, to the saints which are at Ephesus, and to the faithful in Christ Jesus.

//So begins Paul’s letter to the Ephesians. Or so we have it today.

The fact is, many scholars dispute that Paul wrote this letter. I agree with them; the doctrine of this epistle differs too radically from the seven undisputedly authentic Pauline letters (1 Thessalonians, Galatians, the two letters to the Corinthians, Philemon, Philippians, and Romans). In fact, we don’t even know who this letter was written to! The best ancient manuscripts lack the words “at Ephesus” in today’s verse. The author simply addresses his letter to “the saints who are faithful in Christ Jesus.” The words “at Ephesus” were added later; we don’t know why or by whom.

Sometimes we forget how much mystery really does surround this ancient collection of writings called the Bible. We just don’t know what we think we know, about even the most basic things.

★★★★★

My one complaint with the book is that it’s a bit slow getting started. The intro, which serves mostly to present credentials, was wordy. What you need to know is that Audlin presents his own translation of John’s Gospel, with liberal commentary, and in so doing makes an effort to restore it as close as possible to its original format and flavor. Late glosses and interpolations are removed, sections are repositioned where they appear to be out of order, words or phrases are restored where they appear missing, and certain current-day conventions and phraseology that distort the message have been swept away. One drawback to this reordering, of course, is that it makes for an awkward reference digest; while detailed by chapter-and-verse, the text is all out of order.

Audlin shares with me a belief that there was an early composition of John’s Gospel, decades before its final form. He finds the most likely scenario of how this “early” John’s Gospel came to be as such: Lazarus, the man whom Jesus restores to life, is the Beloved Disciple and the main voice behind the Gospel. The Gospel is a corroboration between Lazarus and John Mark, the author of all five of the Johannine documents. Lazarus dictated the story of Jesus to John Mark, but the final project was derailed, probably by the war. [Correction provided by the author: The amanuensis was not John Mark, but John the Presbyter.] It was later collected and organized by a redactor, and subjected to further changes by other anonymous contributors. It is the original form that Audlin hopes to present in his translation … not merely the words they left behind, but the intended composition.

Adding to the complexity of this task is Audlin’s contention that certain original themes were downplayed during the redaction process, sometimes by even removing text that John Mark had written. For example, Audlin concludes that the marriage in Cana was of Jesus and Mary Magdalene, but anything suggesting that Jesus was the bridegroom in the story was extracted by the redactor.

Audlin puts a great deal of trust in the Beloved Disciple, as the eyewitness, in presenting historical truth. This lets Audlin interpret much of the text (that which he attributes to the Beloved Disciple) with brutal precision. When John’s Gospel tells how the almighty Roman Empire bowed in obeisance to a lowly Jewish rabbi (Jesus, at the arrest site), it really happened as written! This refreshing trust is not naivete on Audlin’s part, since he hardly reads the Bible as inspired. He certainly has no such trust in the writer of Matthew’s Gospel!

Many of Audlin’s conclusions are based on Aramaic idioms and the Peshitta (the Syriac, an eastern Aramaic New Testament of disputed authorship and origin, which contained most of the canon of today’s Bible), and I must confess, of this analysis I can contribute nothing. I am thus unable to evaluate the strength or weaknesses of Audlin’s linguistic arguments, and they do form much of the foundation of his scholarship.

One of the idiosyncrasies of Audlin’s thesis (again, drawing heavily on the Peshitta) is the collapse of many Bible characters into one big happy family (well, maybe not so happy). Among these family ties we can count Jesus, Mary Magdalene (his wife), Martha, Simon the Leper,  Joseph of Arimathea, the Beloved Disciple, Peter, John Mark, John the Baptist, John the Presbyter, Lazarus, Thomas, the Samaritan woman at the well, Barabbas, Judas, and surely a few more I didn’t catch. Some of these names collapse further into a single person; Lazarus, for example, is also Barabbas and the Beloved Disciple.

So, yes, Audlin’s work is surprising, edgy, opinionated, and yet deeply researched. Small wonder that he grows a bit compulsive in detailing his credentials! This project was clearly a labor of love and his appreciation shines for the original beauty of the Gospel, even as his distaste for the clumsy insertions and distractions of the redactor also shows through. He and I share both feelings, and in fact, we share many other unconventional conclusions, and listing a few will give a feel for the flavor of the writing:

1. The Gospel is not at all chronological, and really indicates closer to a one-year ministry for Jesus rather than three years, though Audlin and I disagree on the reason for the jumbled format.

2. We agree that conservative Christianity has mangled the meaning of “eternal life” in this Gospel; Audlin has opted to simply revert to John’s original word, aeon. Jesus promises “aeonic life.” That’s probably best, and in one of many essays at the end of the book, Audlin carefully attempts to put the original flavor back in Jesus’ promise.

3. We agree that the text probably says Jesus did not walk on water (though other Gospels do).

4. We agree that Jesus, himself, did not consider himself any more “one with God” than the rest of humanity.

On the other hand, we disagree pretty strongly on other topics! I encourage both an open mind and a discerning eye, and plenty of time to wrangle with the ideas.

But I do not think I am in the least inferior to those “super-apostles.”

So, Paul embarks on a challenge to show himself worthy of apostleship, too. Appearing rather embarrassed about the whole episode, he stoops to bragging: “Since many are boasting in the way the world does, I too will boast.” And what did Paul boast about? Why did he think himself worthy? Here is the basis of his three-fold argument:

[1] In the second half of 2 Corinthians chapter 11, Paul lists his sufferings as an apostle: imprisonments, floggings, stoning, shipwrecks.

[2] In the first part of chapter 12, Paul says “I must go on boasting … I will go on to visions and revelations from the Lord.” So he tells of the day he was caught up to paradise, hearing there inexpressible things which he dare not (or cannot) mention.

[3] In order to keep Paul from becoming conceited about his special revelation, God gave him a thorn in his flesh. There is considerable speculation between scholars about just what Paul’s “thorn” was, but it seems to have been obvious to his readers, or he would not have mentioned it among his credentials. (This leads me to believe that the trendy idea of Paul’s “thorn” being a homosexual tendency is way off base).

Finished with his three-fold argument, Paul again insists in verse 12:11 that he is not in the least inferior to the super-apostles.

//Here’s a befuddling topic. Did Jesus’ body ever get anointed for burial? This seems to be a significant theological event, but the Gospels don’t seem to agree.

Let’s start with Mark, the first Gospel written. Mark says that after Jesus was buried, probably on Saturday night (the Sabbath officially ended at sunset on Saturday evening), spices were prepared by some women, and that the next morning they went to anoint the body. Jesus had been wrapped days before in a linen shroud, unanointed.

Matthew tells the same story as Mark, so let’s move to Luke. In this version, the women note where Jesus is laid, and go home to prepare spices before the Sabbath (they rest on the Sabbath, according to the law). Then, they go to the tomb on Sunday morning. Like Mark, they find Jesus’ body missing, so he goes unanointed.

John tells an entirely different story:

Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds. Taking Jesus’ body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. This was in accordance with Jewish burial customs. –John 19:39-40

Thus Jesus is anointed before his burial, with seventy-five pounds of spices! John not only contradicts the Synoptic version, indicating that Jesus was indeed anointed, but makes a point of describing it as a burial fit for a king! On Sunday, Mary Magdalene knows not to bring spices to the tomb, for Jesus’ body has already been anointed.

Is there some way to synchronize these stories?