David Anguish
In his book, Who Was Jesus?, N. T. Wright devotes some space to a critique of the book, Jesus the Man: A New Interpretation from the Dead Sea Scrolls, by Barbara Thiering (1992). Among Thiering's fanciful assertions is the claim that Jesus married Mary Magdalene, fathered three children by her, and then divorced her and remarried.
Because Thiering's book alleges a connection to the Dead Sea Scrolls, Wright was led to another book, Delores Cannon's Jesus and the Essenes: Fresh Insights into Christ's Ministry and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Fanciful as Thiering's claims are, Cannon's go beyond the pale. As Wright summarizes, "in this [book], the author describes a series of interviews with someone who, under hypnosis, 'regressed' into a series of previous lives. This eventually enabled her, in turn, to 'interview' a member of the Essene community. And this Essene, obligingly enough, told her about Jesus. . . ." (Who Was Jesus?, pp. 35-36).
Wright then comments, "When I wrote above that Thiering's book was one of the most bizarre I had ever read, I hadn't bargained for this. Somehow, the combination of Essenism, reincarnation, astrology, secret information, and Jesus becomes irresistible. Are we moving, as a society, towards a new period of esoteric, gnostic-style speculation?" (p. 36).
Well, yes, I believe we are. Shirley MacClaine's many lives. The increased interest in both Eastern religions and New Age thinking. Psychic hotlines, not to mention the serious pursuit of revelations from the stars. Even a Gnostic web site. All these and more are part of our time.
But what we ought to wonder about is not that people pursue such things, but why. As I read Wright's words, I was reminded of something I heard brother Bob Brown say in a sermon nearly twenty years ago. Describing his work in Venezuela, Brown spoke of the idolatry he saw there. He told of visiting a woman who could not afford the statues, but instead bowed before a picture of a statue. Perhaps anticipating the reaction of his well-heeled American Christian audience, Brown then asked, "How can we laugh at those who worship in such ignorance when we have done so little to tell them the truth?"
How indeed? The early disciples were accused of "fill[ing] Jerusalem with [their] teaching" (Acts 5:28). Not everyone they told accepted their message, but there was little question about what that message was. The choice the people had was clear because the message had been plainly shared. Have we done likewise? Or have we been muted by our acceptance of the idea that there is really no reason to say much about Jesus because our world pretty well knows about him already? The first-century-like pursuit of answers in mysticism, astrology, Gnosticism and its cousins suggests that many are not as aware as some of us seem to think.
It is significant that Luke tells us that it was the teaching of the early church which filled Jerusalem. Reverence for and trust in Jesus is important. So are devotional thoughts of him, and a commitment to imitate his holiness. But the early church understood that, vital as these things are, more is required if Jesus' mission is to be fulfilled. So, they committed themselves to teaching. To understanding, defending, and explaining. To making sure that the people they met heard the facts which give substance to the believing life.
Since our world is more like Athens than Apollos (cf. Acts 17:21), evangelism must involve more than correcting folks who need only to have the way of God explained more accurately (Acts 18:26). Are we filling our city with their teaching?