Satan’s Angel

Satan’s Angel:

Quotations from the Gospel of John in the Letters of Paul

James David Audlin

Adapted and abridged from The Gospel of John, copyright © 2013, 2014, 2015 by James David Audlin, and The Writings of John, copyright © 2014, 2015 by James David Audlin, published by Editores Volcán Barú. All worldwide rights reserved.

Reprinted here by permission of the publisher, Editores Volcán Barú.

http://audlinbooks.com/about-james-david-audlin/nonfiction-james-david-audlin/

 

The later gospels of Luke and Matthew could not have used the Gospel of John, yet unpublished, as a textual source, but they may have been influenced at least indirectly by John the Presbyter as an oral source. Paul N. Anderson (The Fourth Gospel and the Quest for Jesus) convinces me that Luke dozens of times follows the oral Johannine tradition rather than Mark.

Anderson also brilliantly argues (in Bible and Interpretation, September 2010) that Acts 4:20 could be a genuine oral statement by John, echoed later in his written work, such as at I John 1:3 and John 3:32. If so, this puts the Presbyter among the eyewitness apostles and has him at least orally preaching about Jesus decades before Luke-Acts was released in the 90s.

In addition to Anderson seeing evidences of quotations in Matthew and Luke-Acts from John as an oral source, there are structural similarities. Luke and Matthew put an equal focus on Jesus’s words and deeds, like John and unlike “sayings gospels” like Thomas, and also unlike Paul’s letters and the pseudo-Pauline letters, which put the focus neither on Jesus’s message (nearly nothing of what Jesus said is recounted) nor on his deeds (likewise hardly mentioned). But these two gospels recount Jesus’s words and deeds mainly to support what Paul does emphasize: his radical reinterpretation of Jesus as being divine and his resurrection as with a spiritual, non-mortal body that his followers too will be given. And in their un-Pauline attention to Jesus’s words and deeds Luke and Matthew could have emulated not only oral John, as might be construed from Anderson, but Mark and perhaps the Gospel of Peter. In this sense they take a median position between the Johannine and Pauline views.

Anderson’s excellent hypotheses regarding quotations of John as an oral source in Luke-Acts raises the question whether there are other such references in the New Testament. And it is my conclusion that there are – specifically, in the letters of Paul.

 

We begin by noting that there is obviously a verb missing in John 20:11 in Greek: παρεκυψεν εις το μνημειον, “…crouched down [__] into the tomb”. One cannot crouch down into a tomb, since the feet do not change position in the act of crouching down; crouching is a vertical action and “into the tomb” requires a horizontal motion, unless the entrance were a most untraditional aperture in the tomb ceiling, but in that case she wouldn’t crouch into the tomb but drop in. But one can crouch down to look into a tomb or to enter into a tomb. That is the exact succession of verbs in 20:5-6 – in verse 5 Lazarus crouches down (the same verb in Greek) to look, but, the text adds immediately, he does not enter; then in verses 6-8 Simon and he do enter the tomb. In another early gospel, Mark 16:5, Mary and the other women are said to enter the tomb, as apparently also did Marcion’s Gospel of the Master (cf. Tertullian, Against Marcion 4:43:6). In the pre-dawn darkness, looking into the tomb from outside would have been futile, since unlike the women and the two disciples, Mary did not have a lamp and her body crouched at the small entrance would have blocked what little sunlight there was. It is harder to see into a dark chamber from an even slightly brighter outside, since one’s eyes will not be sufficiently dilated to see the particulars within.

All of this raises the likelihood that “to enter” or “to look about” is the missing verb here. The verb in my reconstruction of the original text in 20:11 is εμβατευω (embateuō), which means “entered in” and also “scrutinized carefully”. Ironically, it is Paul who confirms this verb; he uses it in Colossians 2:18, which as I will discuss shortly, is Paul criticizing John for relying on Mary’s witness about seeing angels in the tomb. This verb conforms with the Aramaic text as found in the Syriac Sinaiticus and Peshitta of 20:11. They both say she ܐܰܕ݂ܺܝܩܰܬ݂, “inspected” or “looked about” the tomb, which presumes that she has entered into it in order to do just this. The same Aramaic verb appears in verse 5 to say Lazarus looked about the interior, but it is qualified, stating clearly that he did not go in – a qualification missing in verse 11, which in its absence in verse 11 confirms that Mary did go in, especially after the intervening verse 6, in which Simon goes in. Further, in verses 1-11 the Aramaic always says ܩܒܘܪܐ (t qbūrā), literally “the house of the body-niche(s)”, meaning the tomb as a whole, but in 11a it says she was standing in front of the ܩܒܪܐ (qbūrā), the body-niche itself, and in 11b, while weeping, she looked about the t qbūrā. This can only mean she was by then in the tomb. And verse 12, in which Mary sees angels above the body-niche, further suggests she had entered the tomb, since such details would be impossible to discern from outside, given the viewing angle and lack of light.

In the tomb, according to the Greek text of John 20:12, Mary saw δυο αγγελους εν λευκοις, “two messengers in light”. The word λευκοις (leukois), usually translated “white”, means more an effulgence or radiance, flickering and shimmering, composed of light itself. And, notwithstanding the usual translation, the word εν does not mean here “in” light in the English sense better expressed as “of” light. If they were made of light, the word would be λευκόινος. This is to say, the shapes were not composed of light, but were within light, that is, outlined by, surrounded by, a faint, shimmering light, etched out on the far wall of the tomb above the body-niche by the first rays of morning shining through the tomb opening. The word λευκοις could be another example of John’s homonymic doubles entendres, this one evoking εκόνες (eikones), “images” or “phantoms”, especially phantoms of the mind – which instantly brings to mind this word’s appearance in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, which the Presbyter is clearly referencing in this passage. The Aramaic supports this dual interpretation of the Greek: the word in the Peshitta and Syriac Sinaiticus is ܚܰܘܪܳܐ (iwwār), though it can mean “white”, it can also mean (in II Timothy 1:13, for example) “form”, “outline”, or “pattern” – and the Aramaic prefix ܒ݁ means “in” in exactly the same sense of “within”, not of “of”. In conclusion, then, these shape are shadows, silhouettes, limned out by the dawn light.

Confirmation of this reading comes again from Paul. In II Corinthians 11:14, in the midst of one of his diatribes against John the Presbyter, he suggests that John has been preaching about “an angel in light” (αγγελον φωτος), and avers that the manifestation was really Satan disguising his appearance as its own opposite (μετασχηματίζεται); that is, the demon of shadow taking on a cloak of light, thus with the outer seeming of an angel, but still a shadow within. Scholars have never been able to point to any such reference in the Tanakh, or even in what was to become the New Testament. But does not the phrase sharply evoke the image of δυο αγγελους εν λευκοις in John 20:12, the “two angels in shimmering light”, the two shadows etched out by light?

 

These apparent connections between John 20 and comments in two of Paul’s letters call for further examination of the latter.

Colossians 2:18 reads thus:

 

μηδεις υμας καταβραβευετω θελων εν ταπεινοφροσυνη και θρησκεια των αγγελων α εορακεν εμβατευων εικη φυσιουμενος υπο του νοος της σαρκος αυτου

 

Let no one disqualify you who brags about his humility, nor one who venerates angels whom she saw while entering in / inspecting carefully, vainly hyperventilating over the thought of his body.

 

In the first phrase Paul uses a sports term, καταβραβευω (katabrabeuō, referring to when an umpire declares a play to be out of bounds or ejects a player from the game), to say John, simply because he knew Jesus, thinks he gets to judge the actions of others. No doubt Paul was still rankling over being judged by the apostles in Jerusalem (Acts 15). Three men, Simon Peter, James, and John, spoke against Paul, which tells us that this trial was deemed a capital case requiring a minimum of two or three credible witnesses, conducted in accordance with Jewish law (Deuteronomy 17:6 and 19:15).

John is mentioned by Paul in Galatians 2:9 as participating in this trial. He is not mentioned by name in Acts 15, just in 15:5 as a Pharisee. He was indeed a priest and no doubt a Pharisee too; according to a letter written by Polycrates, Bishop of Ephesus, paraphrased by Eusebius, John, he “who sleeps [was buried] in Ephesus”, τ πέταλον πεφορεκς (“wore the petalon”, the breastplate of the high priest). Since there is no record of a high priest in this time named John this would be that he substituted for the high priest when the latter was sick or travelling. So it is John who insisted (Acts 15:5) and argued strongly (verse 7) that Paul’s gentile converts be circumcised, but he was overruled by Simon and James, who gave conciliatory speeches in Acts while John sat silent. (Since John is never again mentioned in Acts, this disagreement may be part of why he moves to Ephesus.) Paul’s gentile converts were accepted (Deuteronomy 10:17-19); though John’s insistence on circumcision was rejected, the compromise did require Paul to hold his converts to “remember the poor” and to obey the so-called Noahide laws, including not eating food containing blood, food offered to idols, or food that came from strangled animals; and refraining from ritual sexual impropriety, such as the ceremonial sexuality practiced at both the Jerusalem and Samaritan Temples at various times. Given Paul’s astonishing success at evangelizing, he couldn’t be harnessed and the three leaders knew it; their only leverage was the imprimatur of their good will.

Paul says in Galatians that the circumcision issue was brought up by “false brothers” (ψευδαδελφους) secretly invited (παρεισάκτους) to appear unexpectedly (παρεισλθον) before Paul: this would be the mentioned Pharisee, John. Paul makes it all sound very positive and chummy (Galatians 2:9); still, one hears the hissing sarcasm in Galatians 2:6, where Paul describes the leaders, mainly the just-mentioned Pharisee, as

 

…των δοκουντων ειναι τι οποιοι ποτε ησαν ουδεν μοι διαφερει προσωπον ο θεος ανθρωπου ου λαμβανει εμοι γαρ οι δοκουντες ουδεν προσανεθεντο

 

… those esteemed (by others) to be something – whatever they used to be makes no difference to me (since) God does not accept a man’s outward seeming – these esteemed had, indeed, nothing to add.

 

Note that the adjective δοκουντων, dokountōn, has a barb in its tail. In this quotation it appears to suggest the meaning of “esteemed” or “held in high opinion”. However in his next phrase Paul suggests that the people hold these three in such high esteem because of their former-but-no-more achievements (that once upon a time they were Jesus’s disciples, or that John was a high priest, for instance) and so they have been taken in by their claims to fame, the show that they give the world; literally, the “face” that they show the world. At any rate, Paul is in no position to make such insinuations, considering his own rather despicable past deeds, though at least to his credit he often mentions them. But God is not so taken in, he goes on, adding with arch piety that though their followers are fooled God is not, and so God’s one faithful follower Paul is likewise not fooled. Yet that he alludes to their past greatness at all implies it does make a difference to him, and he sounds both envious and gossipy simply for hinting at it.

Paul uses the adjective δοκουντων again in verse 9 to modify the noun στυλοι (styloi), which usually means “pillars”, hence “esteemed pillars”, in the modern sense of “pillars of the church”. But the latter word was also used to refer to writing styluses (in fact the English word is descended from it), and δοκουντων can also mean “opinionated” or even “judgemental”. Thus, no doubt intentionally, Paul intends this phrase to carry a second meaning: “judgemental styluses”; by implication, “judgemental writers”; the equivalent in modern English would be “poison pens”. (Paul might have had in mind the עט שקר (“deceitful styluses”) of Jeremiah 8:8.) And immediately after this taunt, Paul drives it home by relating the story about Simon being hypocritical about demanding Paul to keep kosher when Simon himself does not.

If as suggested above this trial was conducted in accordance with Jewish law (Deuteronomy 17:6 and 19:15), for Paul to ignore the verdict, as he did, was not only to break relations with these three men but moreover with Jewish law and the Jewish faith. No wonder his subsequent letters say faith in Jesus eradicates any need to obey the Torah. Paul now had little choice but to seek respect among the gentiles.

So James, John, and Simon broke off relations with Paul, never again to communicate except for one last council described in Acts 21. Paul for his part refused to travel and preach any longer with either Barnabas or John Mark, whom he replaced with another young man of an apparently more amenable disposition, named Silas. After pushing Barnabas and John Mark aside (despite one being the man who had given Saul his start in the movement and the other being the son of the Messiah he claimed to represent!) he redoubled his efforts alone, as missionary to the Roman Empire, at least according to the book of Acts, but there is little reason to doubt this, since the sheer numbers of converts racked up by Paul conferred on him considerable power, if not authority, in the early years of this spiritual movement.

 

In the second phrase of Colossians 2:18 Paul turns his invective on Mary. It is she, according to John 20:11-12, who entered into the tomb and inspected it (the verb εμβατευω) the interior of Jesus’s tomb and saw two angels (John 20:11-12; the Greek word means “messengers”); Paul accuses her of worshipping (θρησκεια) the angels. And Paul increases the outrage: Mary’s testimony is untrustworthy, he avers, because, as John himself concedes in the gospel, she was sexually aroused at the resurrection, “vainly hyperventilating over the thought of his body.” (Note that The Gospel of John studies at considerable length the strong erotic implications of John 20, particularly through isolating quotations from the Song of Songs, Sappho, and Homer.) Thus, Paul concludes, using his sports imagery, Umpire John did not see the event in question, relying on the questionable testimony of Mary, and is therefore a hypocrite for saying he is an eyewitness of the risen Jesus. It was Mary, not John, who professed she saw these messengers and Jesus, Paul points out, and her testimony is worthless because of her sexual desire. On the other hand, Paul often vigorously claims to have really seen the risen Christ, albeit in visions.

The “hyperventilating” comment points clearly to Mary. The second-century Greek philosopher Celsus wrote a book giving his logical arguments against Christianity. Picking up on Paul’s accusation, he insisted we cannot take seriously the witness of a frenzied female that Jesus rose from the dead; she may have only had a wish-fulfillment fantasy or deliberately pretended to a vision. He says the solitary resurrection witness (Mary, according to John 20), was

 

… εί τις άλλος των έκ της αύτης γοητειας, ήτοι κατα τινα διαθεσιν όνειρωξας και κατα την αύτου βουλησιν δοξη πεπλανημενη φαντασιωθεις, όπερ ήδη μυριοις σθμβεβηκεν, ή, όπερ μαλλον άπο γε τουτων, οίς άπαγορευει πειθεσθαι Μωωσης ή Μωυσεα εξ ών έτεροθς περι σημειων και τερατων διεβαλε

 

… perhaps one of those engaged in that kind of magic, who had either undergone a dream of this, having been willing to let her mind wander causing images to form in it, as many people have done; or, more likely, one who desired to impress others with this sign, and by such a falsehood to furnish support for other impostors like herself.

 

Apparently these matters were still widely known in the second century, to be known even by a critic, and have since been forgotten, deliberately so by the institutional religion.

Paul’s view is that Mary was in vain “hyperventilating over the thought of his [Jesus’s] body” because, so Paul believed, Jesus didn’t have a normal human body of flesh but rather a spiritual body, one without sexual desire, without sin. Thus it was not just in vain for Mary to “hyperventilate” over such a body, but a sin against God to want to sin with a body made of heavenly material.

So Paul here calls John a false apostle for basing his apostolic claim on not his own witness of the resurrected Jesus but that of a crazy woman, and further calls him a servant of Satan since, so Paul alleges, it was Satan who appeared in the tomb to Mary as an angel in light.

Still rankling some years later, and never at a loss for words to express his views, Paul lets loose again in his second surviving letter to his community of followers in Corinth (II Corinthians 11:12-15):

 

ο δε ποιω και ποιησω ινα εκκοψω την αφορμην των θελοντων αφορμην ινα εν ω καυχωνται ευρεθωσιν καθως και ημεις οι γαρ τοιουτοι ψευδαποστολοι εργαται δολιοι μετασχηματιζομενοι εις αποστολους χριστου και ου θαυμα αυτος γαρ ο σατανας μετασχηματιζεται εις αγγελον φωτος ου μεγα ουν ει και οι διακονοι αυτου μετασχηματιζονται ως διακονοι δικαιοσυνης ων το τελος εσται κατα τα εργα αυτων

 

So what I am doing I will keep on doing in order to cut off the opportunity for those who seek one, to be taken in their boasting as equal to us. For such are pseudo-apostles, workers of deceit, turning themselves into apostles of Christ. And no wonder; Satan himself transforms his appearance into an angel in light! So it is no surprise if his servants also masquerade as servants of justice, whose end will be in accordance with their deeds.

 

Here Paul says he himself is an apostle, and that John is not – an astonishing statement, when in fact it was the other way around –and that John et al. who judged Paul in Jerusalem will be judged in the end. In the early usage, an apostle was someone who had heard and seen Jesus, and whose life had been changed by Jesus, and who then dedicated his life to spreading his first-hand accounts of Jesus’s teachings. Paul never witnessed Jesus in the flesh (be that flesh physical or spiritual) as the Presbyter did, and Paul’s demand to be accepted as a full apostle therefore grated on the real apostles, especially Jesus’s closest friends and family in the leadership community based in Jerusalem until its destruction in 70 C.E. Much of John’s surviving correspondence include defenses of John’s claim to apostleship as genuine (especially I John 1) and a condemnation of Paul’s false claim to apostleship, such as this warning in Paul in II John 7,9:

 

οτι πολλοι πλανοι εξηλθον εις τον κοσμον οι μη ομολογουντες ιησουν χριστον ερχομενον εν σαρκι ουτος εστιν ο πλανος και ο αντιχριστος … πας ο προαγων και μη μενων εν τη διδαχη του χριστου θεον ουκ εχει ο μενων εν τη διδαχη ουτος και τον πατερα και τον υιον εχει

 

For many misleaders have gone off into the cosmos, those who do not say as we do that Jesus the Anointed One came in flesh. … Anyone who leads (others) outside of, who does not abide within, the teaching of God, does not have God.

 

and John’s praise of his own congregation in Ephesus in Revelation 2:2:

 

οιδα τα εργα σου και τον κοπον και την υπομονην σου και οτι ου δυνη βαστασαι κακους και επειρασας τους λεγοντας εαυτους αποστολους και ουκ εισιν και ευρες αυτους ψευδεις

 

I know your [the synagogue’s] works and your labor and your endurance, and that you cannot tolerate evildoers, and that you tested those who call themselves apostles but are not, and that you found them to be liars.

 

In II Corinthians 11 Paul goes further with his allegation made in Colossians 2:18. The latter verse simply accuses John and Mary of “venerating angels”, but here he says in actuality those supposed angels were Satan having transformed (μετασχηματίζεται, metaschēmatizetai) his appearance into “an angel in light” (αγγελον φωτος, angelon phōtos). The verb μετασχηματίζεται here suggests that Satan is disguising himself (Josephus so uses this word in Antiquities 8:11:1) by turning his outer appearance into its exact opposite: the demon of shadow takes on a cloak of light: it is still a shadow within, but with the outer seeming of an angel. As noted, scholars have never been able to point to any such reference in the Tanakh, or even in what was to become the New Testament, but I think the phrase echoes δυο αγγελους εν λευκοις in John 20:12, the “two angels in shimmering light” (λευκοις, leukois, is a poetic synonym for φωτος).

 

It is entirely possible that Paul or one of his acolytes attended a sermon by John and heard him talking about what Mary had told him about the resurrection of Jesus. (Spying on competitors seems to have been common; cf. e.g., Galatians 2:4.)

John, of course, would have emphasized that the hierogamy of Jesus and Mary beside the tomb, their total union physical and spiritual, sexual and mystical, shows us how to heal the spiritual wound caused by Elohim’s separation of the first human into Adam and Eve, the aloneness and emptiness in every human individual, and that it opens the way to the Æon. But Paul, who was not only rather misogynistic but strongly disgusted by the very idea of sexuality, found it most offensive that John was preaching Jesus in an erotic embrace with Mary at his resurrection, and outright heretical that John suggested Jesus showed the way to heaven in (to borrow Blake’s lovely phrase) “the lineaments of gratified Desire”.

Thus Paul paints John as a charlatan who, despite claiming to be an eyewitness, relies on hearsay. And, even if John was an eyewitness disciple of Jesus, Paul says he is better than John (and Peter and James, for that matter) because they falsely claim to be Jesus’s disciples when he, Paul, is the only true and best disciple of Jesus because, by way of his vaunted visions, Paul claims he still is in close contact with Jesus. Thus Paul, with his usual skill at debating, seeks to turn his biggest deficit – that he never even met Jesus – into a strength. As always, Paul judges others to be judgemental and vindicates himself as unjudgemental; he brags about his lack of braggadocio, he is loudly proud of his humility. Paul indulges in self-effacement with all the illogic of the famous paradox about the chronic liar who says, “I am lying.”

 

 

The Structure of the Resurrection Scene

GJohn-Mockup1

What follows is a addition to The Gospel of John, my restoration of that original text, free from the later interpolations and excisions of the organized Christian religion, and translated afresh from the Greek. You will find ordering information here. But note that the book will not be available again until around mid-August, when a revised version comes off the presses with about 100 pages of new material.

James Daniel Tabor has suggested in his blog here that the account in John 20:1-10 is a separate and older story than what is told in verses 11-18, that it is essentially complete in itself, and perhaps the first written account of the post-crucifixion events. In favor of his view, it can be pointed out that 1-10 have Mary go to the tomb and then go home to tell the two disciples, but that there is nothing about her returning to the tomb. As a result, verse 11 opens rather inexplicably with Mary back at the tomb and no reference to her returning there. This may suggest a separate history to verses 1-2 from the history of the following verses.

However, unlike Tabor, my view is that the tomb narrative in verses 1-18 is a single unit deliberately structured with three main sections: verses 1-2, verses 3-10, and verses 11-18; and that the third section also has three parts: verses 11-13, 14-17, and 18. And that both sets of three parts are examples of inclusio, a kind of narrative structuring also called A-B-A symmetry.

The first of the three main sections centers on Mary. The second centers on Simon the Rock and the Beloved Disciple, and the third again centers on Mary. Each one begins with the witness(es) in question coming to the tomb, observing or experiencing something, and then returning home with information to deliver to the group of disciples.

At Mary’s first visit to the tomb in section one she just looks in and sees that the body is missing, like her son Lazarus in section two, and in section three (her second visit to the tomb) she goes into it, like Simon the Rock in section two.

What is more, the narrative itself has a home-away-home structure: Mary is the “home” character in the first section, but the narrative “goes away” from her in the second section to the two disciples, and the third section returns to the “home” of Mary’s experiences. The nearly identical phrasing of Mary’s message in the first section (verse 2b) and third section (verse 13b) again strongly suggests that this is a single narrative with a tripartite structure.

The first and second sections both convey the “empty tomb” motif familiar from the Synoptics: the first has Mary deliver the message that Jesus’s body is missing, and the second has the disciples confirm it. Verses 1-2, in fact, are a very brief equivalent to the Synoptic “empty tomb” accounts in which Mary goes to the tomb accompanied by certain other women; this is clear because she speaks in the first person plural: “…we don’t know where they have laid him!” These two verses cannot be a later addition based on the Synoptics since the narrative in verses 3-18 stems from and depends on 1-2, and is incomplete without those two verses as a preamble.

The third section (verses 11-18) repeats in miniature the same inclusio or A-B-A symmetry of the whole passage. The first part of the third section (verses 11-13) begins with Mary alone in her “home” position in front of the empty tomb, looking into it, in a parallel to verse 1. Then she apparently goes “away from home” into the tomb (a verb is missing, as will be discussed below), just as in verses 2 and 18 she goes to the disciples. There in the tomb she sees two angels, equivalent in number to the two disciples, and delivers to them the same message that that she delivered to the two disciples in verse 2, in very nearly identical wording. Thus the narrative of this first part is close to that of the first part of the overall text (verses 1-2).

The beginning of the second part (verses 14-17) is signalled by a typical Greek transitional summary phrase, “Having said all this,” and also by her act of turning around, an action that was traditionally used in narratives to signify a new section; after this the text introduces Jesus. She delivers to him the same anguished message about the missing body, but in a new wording. Jesus identifies himself to her, and she runs from within the tomb (in a phrase preserved by a few manuscripts, including the Codex Sinaiticus) to her “home” position in front of the tomb, to the home of her heart, Jesus, just as in the first major section she had run home to the two disciples and they had run to the tomb. But where the disciples found only an empty tomb she finds and embraces Jesus. Thus the second part of this third section has narrative parallels to the second section about the two disciples.

The third and final part of this third section (verse 18) has Mary again go home to deliver a message to the disciples, just as she and the disciples went home again at the end of the first two sections – however, this time it is not with mystified concern over an empty tomb and a missing body, but that she has seen their master (and embraced him, though she does not mention this)!

This structural integrity is also confirmed by the use of “Mary!” in all three sections. In the Peshitta and the Codex Syriac Sinaiticus, two very early Aramaic New Testament versions, Mary refers to Jesus as mary, which means “master/lord” in Aramaic, and which is of course a homonym with her name. This pun is clear in the Aramaic versions (but not in the Greek), and it could well have been part of the actual original conversation between Mary and Jesus, since of course both of them spoke Aramaic. The pun was, either on Jesus’s part or by the intention of the gospel’s author, meant to imply Jesus’s prayer in 17:22-23 “that they may all be one”.

Specifically she refers to him as mary in the message that concludes the first section (verse 2b) and that concludes its parallel, the first part of the third section (verse 13b), that the tomb is empty and the body missing, and again in the message at the conclusion of the third section (verse 18), that she has seen Jesus alive. In the second and third sections, another example of A-B-A symmetry has her refer to Jesus as mary (verse 13b), then has Jesus call her “Mary” (verse 16a), and then has her again refer to Jesus as mary (verse 18).

Given all of this intricate inclusio structuring, it is hard to conclude as others do that certain verses have a separate history and were clumsily stitched together into chapter 20.

A problem remains, which is that verse 11 opens rather inexplicably with Mary back at the tomb and no reference to her returning there. It may be that the three sections were narrated at different times by Lazarus to the amanuensis, John the Presbyter, and that therefore the narrative gap was an oversight as the latter assembled these sections and wove them together into a narrative whole. Another possibility is that the author left it for the reader to assume that Mary returned to the tomb with the two disciples. A third possibility is that there is a lacuna in the text; as discussed in the Introduction, the author left the gospel still in a draft, and the redactor (probably Polycarp of Smyrna) may have neglected it during his work of refining prior to publication. I personally lean toward the second option, the reason being that the author intended to keep the focus in the second section strictly on the two disciples, and so not mentioning Mary’s return to the tomb is deliberate.

Much of the foregoing will be explained and expanded upon in the verse-by-verse commentaries that follow [ìn the book].

Mary Magdalene and Jesus Naked at the Tomb

GJohn-Mockup1

What follows is a addition to The Gospel of John, my restoration of that original text, free from the later interpolations and excisions of the organized Christian religion, and translated afresh from the Greek. You will find ordering information here.

We know Jesus is naked since his entombment linens are still in the tomb (20:5-7) – they would in any case be much too soiled with blood and bodily fluids to serve as makeshift garments – and he cannot have gone somewhere to pick up a fresh suit. If he has gone anywhere, it would only be nearby, to one of the abundant springs and streams in this garden, to wash himself clean. As for Mary, by the time she arrived at the tomb in 20:1 she would have already torn her clothes asunder, as was then the tradition for those in mourning; as noted above, one reason she separated from the other women may be, as noted above, that she was by now close to quite nude. In any case, the text here, by vividly evoking the naked couple in the garden of Eden and in the Song of Songs, clearly signals Mary’s nakedness to match Jesus’s. She almost certainly took off what shreds remained of her robes while inside the tomb; the removal of clothing in many cultures, including the first-century Jewish (and the Native American, which refers to death as “the dropping of the robe”) signified death and mourning of death, so this act indicated her unwillingness to live without her husband and master.

First to note, their nakedness represents birth and death; as in Job 1:21, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there.” The “mother” here is the Earth herself, and Jesus returned into her, specifically the tomb, and now has come forth from her womb. This is a second birth for Jesus, just as he “preenacted” it with John (1:32-33) and discussed it with Nicodemus (3:3-7) and so this scene forms an inclusio with the beginning of the gospel. Moreover, in terms of Plato’s allegory (see page 528), we are born owning none of the things of this world, which are just shadows cast by the more real world, the Æon, and at death we release all property, including the body. Clothing, and property in general, proclaims our social status and wealth; it divides us from others. Without clothes we are united in our common heritage, the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:26). Thus Jesus’s and Mary’s nakedness here implies that in the Æon we are one, unencumbered by worldly things and their shadows.

Second, their nakedness in a garden brings to mind Adam and Eve naked in the garden of Eden, but it reverses that story: in Genesis Adam and Eve’s guilt and shame over their sin of disobedience, for which God punishes them with mortality, is associated by Genesis with the primordial couple clothing their naked bodies; here, Jesus and Mary unclothing their bodies represents for them (and us if we follow them spiritually) a return to the human condition before the primordial couple ate of the fruit. Modern readers, reading Genesis through their own cultural lenses, often think that Adam and Eve clothed themselves out of a kind of sexually fueled embarrassment for being “naked in public”. But a careful reading of the text reveals that, no, they were afraid of God’s omnipotent wrath in the face of their vulnerability, especially following their disobedience of God, and so they sewed leaves together to disguise themselves as trees in this garden of trees. Thus the nakedness of Jesus and Mary is to say no person need feel any longer afraid of God, as needing to hide her- or himself from God or ignore God, that “all is forgiven”, as the classic prophets often emphasize, as long as the individual accepts the Λογος, the truth and wisdom of the plan of God. Spiritually speaking, true trust is true nakedness, with no need to hide oneself, or to make of oneself something other than naturally human. In this sense, this nakedness is not just to bring Adam and Eve to mind; this is an eschatological nakedness: Jesus and Mary are the “Adam and Eve” of the people of the future who are completely integrated into the Λογος, who trust God completely, and do not put clothes on out of fear or misrepresentation of their true selves. (In the next chapter, Simon the Rock is fishing naked, but puts on his clothes before swimming ashore where Jesus is; he has not yet “understood the scripture” [20:9].)

In logion 36 of the Gospel of Thomas Jesus says, “Do not worry from dawn to dusk, or from dusk to dawn, about what you shall wear” (cf. Matthew 6:25-30). In the following logion the disciples ask Jesus, “When will you appear to us, and when will we see you?”, and he replies, “When you can take off your clothes without feeling ashamed, and you take your clothes and throw them beneath your feet like little children and trample them; then you will see the Son of the Living One, and you will not be afraid.” The (Greek) Gospel of the Egyptians has Jesus reply similarly, but adds a further thought: “When you have trampled on the garment of shame, and when the two become one, and the male with the female is neither male nor female.” This is an eschatology in which the two genders become one, in which they become again the image and likeness of their Creator, Elohim, in which male and female are one.

This eschatology is found also in the Gospel of Thomas, particularly in the last logion in the book (114), which, unfortunately, is widely misunderstood:

Simon the Rock said this to them: “Let Mariam [Mary] go away from us, for women are not worthy of the [Æonian] life.”

Jesus said this: “Look, I will draw her into myself so I may make her male, so she may also be a living spirit resembling you males: for any woman who makes herself male will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”

This verse is often put down as an example of first-century misogyny, as Jesus insisting that only males are welcome in the Æon, the Kingdom of Heaven. But Jesus is actually referring to the Hebrew myth of the creation of male and female. In the first creation story God creates by separating complementary opposites: day from night, above from below, land from sea; finally, God takes the androgynous human who was made male-and-female in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:26) and separates it into two humans, the primordial couple. The second creation story likewise has womankind, in the person of Eve, drawn forth from the side of the prototypical androgynous human, Adam. Jesus thus is saying in the above logion that women, in order to enter into the Æon, the Kingdom of Heaven, must again become one with the male. Mary, as is made clear in this resurrection scene, is reborn to a new life along with her husband Jesus: they experience in this scene a hierogamy, a spiritual marriage, which renders them truly one, hence truly reflecting the image and likeness of Elohim, and fully capable of entering into the Æon.

F. F. Bruce (Jesus and Christian Origins Outside the New Testament) is the only scholar who to my knowledge interprets this logion correctly; he nicely summarizes Jesus’s point thus: “Jesus’s promise that she will become a man, so as to gain admittance to the kingdom of heaven, envisages the reintegration of the original order, when Adam was created male and female (Genesis 1.27). Adam was ‘the man’ as much before the removal of Eve from his side as after (Genesis 2.18-25). Therefore, when the primal unity is restored and death is abolished, man will still be man (albeit more perfectly so), but woman will no longer be woman; she will be reabsorbed into man.”

This interpretation of logion 114 is supported by logion 22, in which Jesus says in part, “When you make the two one … when you make the male and the female a single one, such that the male is not male nor the female female … then you shall enter into [the Kingdom of Heaven].” Likewise he says in logion 75, “There are many standing at the door, but the united/whole/single ones (are) the ones who will go in to the bridal chamber.”

We find the exact same theology in the Gospel of Philip, for instance in logion 76:

In the days (when) Eve was within Adam, death did not exist. (When) she was separated from him, death came into being. If again she goes into (him), and he takes her into himself, death shall not exist.

Third, while the sexual element is not clearly prominent in the garden of Eden story, it certainly is in the Song of Songs, and very much so here as well. There had to be some sexual energy in their embrace (and no doubt a kiss, as the implications of the Odyssey suggest; see below) in the next verse; most emphatically, Jerome’s “Noli me tangere” (“Do not touch me”) is repugnant as a translation. This is Jesus’s and Mary’s hierogamy, their spiritual (re)marriage, and so it has to be erotic. The eroticism is further discussed below.

This sexual element is related to the previous point that their Edenic nakedness has spiritual meaning. In the act of coïtus the couple become physically one, and their conscious minds are set aside, allowing them a moment of sheer ecstasy, which is a harbinger of the joy of living in the Æon. (This wakan aspect to lovemaking is explored in detail in The Circle of Life.) Further, the act of coïtus can result in the creation of new life, in the form of a child. Thus, Elohim appears in Genesis as a Creator, as Father-Mother to all life, and the man and woman, when they are truly one (including physically, during coïtus), are in the image and likeness of Elohim also creating life. This points to the deep meanings of the “bridal chamber” theology found in several early gospels, especially that of Philip. Logion 86, quoted on page 586, says that when male and female are mated together again in the bridal chamber they gain eternal life; death is overcome for them.

In sum, this resurrection scene is frighteningly beautiful, joyfully fearsome. Mary encounters a dead body that speaks to her: in her culture he is a ghost or an angel, perhaps, or Death Incarnate even, and it is impossible for her not to be afraid. And yet, when she comes close to him, and looks through her fear and exhaustion, she finds a familiar face. She smells the comfortable scent of his skin. She feels the warmth of his body against hers, the wonderful strength of his arms. She is scared and ecstatic at once. In the words of Rainer Maria Rilke, if an angel

… gesetzt selbst, es nähme
einer mich plötzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von
seinem stärkeren Dasein. Denn das Schöne ist nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen,
und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmäht,
uns zu zerstören. Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich.

… put itself before me and pulled
me suddenly against its heart, I would be overwhelmed by
its prodigious existence. For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we can barely endure,
and we admire it so, because it serenely scorns
to destroy us. Even a single angel is terrifying.

Fourth, nakedness represents departure from the physical body in behalf of life in the Æon. As the Gospel of Philip has it (logion 24):

There are those made afraid lest they arise and find themselves naked. Because of this, they wish to arise in the flesh, but they do not understand that those made to wear the flesh are the naked ones. Those who are made of light strip themselves naked for they indeed are not naked. [or: Those who are unafraid to strip themselves naked are not really naked.]

Jesus speaks in a very similar way in the last dialogic section (probably late first century) of the Johannine-in-style Dialogue of the Savior, saying the “governors and administrators” of this world have garments (of flesh) which will not last, but his disciples will be blessed when they strip themselves of such garments.

And so: “Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). The first rays of dawn reveal to Mary the face of her beloved husband; I believe this moment was in the Presbyter’s mind as he described “the woman clothed with the sun” in Revelation 12:1; the next verse confirms she was pregnant, as does John 16:21. They embrace and kiss, naked as they are, in a garden; they are the eternal archetypal lovers, and their wedding that began the gospel is now confirmed and made holy, and the celestial clock is set back to the moment of Creation, εν αρχη ην ο λογος, with the first wrongdoing of humanity trying to separate itself from God now forgiven and undone, and the entire universe is reborn. “This was their thousandth meeting,” as Charles Williams put it in All Hallows Eve, “but yet more than their first, a new first, and yet the only one.”

Only a few manuscripts, most importantly the Codex Sinaiticus (01C2a), have the critical phrase at the end of this verse, “And she runs to embrace him.” This is less likely a cut by the redactor, since publication did not take place before he had completed his work. More likely the sentence was taken out by an early copyist for theological reasons – his Christian community, with its emphasis on Jesus as God incarnate and its typically Roman misogyny clearly frowned on the idea that Jesus would allow a woman to embrace him, especially at such an august moment as his resurrection – and the majority of later copies retained this excision. It is in any case essential: it confirms that she was inside the tomb, with some distance intervening between her and Jesus; it dramatically informs the reader of her sudden change from the depths of deepest despair to cerulean euphoria; and it sets up Jesus’s asking her to cease embracing him. Thus it is included in this translation.

Without doubt the gospel writer had in mind these lines from the Septuagint (Greek) version of the Song of Songs:

First, Song 2:17a, ἕως οὗ διαπνεύσῃ ἡ ἡμέρα καὶ κινηθῶσιν αἱ σκιαί ἀπόστρεψον ὁμοιώθητι σύ ἀδελφιδέ μου τῷ δόρκωνι ἢ νεβρῷ ἐλάφων ἐπὶ ὄρη κοιλωμάτων (“Until the day breathes and the shadows flee, turn around, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young deer on the spice-laden mountains”). This dawn breathes new life not only into Jesus but Mary too. Their shadows on the far wall of the tomb flee away, for Mary has turned away from them, probably throwing down the embalming spices in her arms, to flee the tomb like a gazelle to her beloved.

Second, from Song 3:4b, ἐκράτησα αὐτὸν καὶ οὐκ ἀφῆκα αὐτόν (“I took hold of him and did not let [him] go”). Mary embraces Jesus and will not let him go, as 20:17 makes clear; Jesus must ask her to do so.

Third, from Song 1:2, the very beginning of that glorious poem, φιλησατω με απο φιληματων στοματος αυτου οτι αγαθοι μαστοι σου υπερ οινον (“Would that he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is better than wine”). The amanuensis, always conscious of inclusios between the beginning and end of the gospel, certainly had in mind not only the miracle of the wine and no doubt the traditional kiss of the bride and groom at Jesus’s wedding (2:1-11), but also the implied kiss when they met at the spring in Samaria (see the commentary to 4:13-14) and here in the form of the kisses of his mouth Mary has the everflowing living waters of eternal life again, and the miraculously appearing wedding wine again, and this time it is not merely “the best wine” (2:10), but “better than wine” (Song 1:2)!

And last, Song 8:6, κραταια ως θανατος αγαπη σκληρος ως αδης ζηλος, “As strong as death is love, as fierce as Hades is passionate desire.” Their love has survived death itself.

It is not only the Song of Songs that echoes in this passage; the well-read amanuensis might well again have had the incomparable Sappho in mind as he wrote:

Αρτίωσ μ᾽ ἀ χρυσοπέδιλλοσ Ἀύωσ. …
Στᾶθι κἄντα φίλοσ, καὶ τὰν ἔπ᾽ ὄσσοισ ἀμπέτασον χάριν.

And in this moment golden-sandalled Dawn [has spoken]. …
Turn and face me, my beloved, and unveil for me the grace in your eyes.

Moreover, it is without question that we hear in the brief but mighty phrases of verse 16 the voice of Homer. Consider these lines from the Odyssey (205, 207-208, 231-232, 241, 247-250), in which Odysseus reveals himself to his longsuffering wife Penelope:

τῆς δ’ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ…
δακρύσασα δ’ ἔπειτ’ ἰθὺς κίεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
δειρῇ βάλλ’ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δ’ ἔκυσ …
τῷ δ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφ’ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο:
κλαῖε δ’ ἔχων ἄλοχον θυμαρέα, κέδν’ εἰδυῖαν. …
καί νύ κ’ ὀδυρομένοισι φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς …
καὶ τότ’ ἄρ’ ἣν ἄλοχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γύναι, οὐ γάρ πω πάντων ἐπὶ πείρατ’ ἀέθλων
ἤλθομεν, ἀλλ’ ἔτ’ ὄπισθεν ἀμέτρητος πόνος ἔσται,
πολλὸς καὶ χαλεπός, τὸν ἐμὲ χρὴ πάντα τελέσσαι. …

And then her knees and precious heart gave way …
Then in tears she ran to him, to throw her arms
Around Odysseus’s neck, to kiss his face …
And she elicited in him even more the desire to weep;
He held his wife, beloved and loyal, and shed his tears.
Rosy-fingered Dawn would have risen upon them as they wept …
And then resourceful Odysseus said to his wife,
“Woman, we haven’t finished yet with all our trials
For I must yet undertake, in the future, a great work,
Long and difficult, before I have completely finished. …”

Like Penelope, Mary is tottering on her legs, exhausted by considerable stress, and weeping copious tears (20:11). As Odysseus does Penelope, Jesus addresses Mary as γυναι (“woman”). Like Penelope, Mary runs to Jesus and embraces him (20:16). In both works, this poignant moment comes at dawn (20:1). And like Odysseus, Jesus says there are things that they both yet must accomplish, especially he himself (20:17).

This embrace is more than romantic and erotic, though it is that too; this embrace is what Jung calls the coincidentia oppositorum, the union of complementary opposites. As it is put in The Circle of Life:

The embrace is a sign of love that symbolizes the Sacred Hoop: both persons are within the circle. When we embrace, first we open our arms, becoming vulnerable in a sense, exposing our hearts both literally and figuratively, to create space in ourselves to welcome the other into us. Then we close our arms around each other, one with each other within the Sacred Hoop. (Sexuality is an extension of the embrace, of course – an even closer joining in which we each enter even more deeply into the other, body and soul.) Then, when the ceremony of embrace ends, we open again, and return to our separate identities, but enriched by the moment in which we were one together. Now and forever after, we are connected, and carry a little bit of the other in us.

And likewise the kiss is more than “just a kiss”; it is the eternal man and woman exchanging their sacred breath/spirit, רוּחַ (ruach) in Hebrew and πνευμα (pneuma) in Greek. As Plotinus would later put it in his Enneads, II:7, “All things depend on each other; as has been said, ‘Everything breathes together.’” And as the noncanonical Gospel of Philip (ca. 150 C.E.) would put it in years to come (logia 35, 59-60):

[Grace comes] from him, from the mouth, the place from which the Word came forth, to be nourished from the mouth and to become perfected. The perfect conceive and give birth by a kiss. This is why we also kiss each other, to receive conception from the grace that is in each other. …

And the companion of the [Anointed One] is Mariam the Magdalene. [The Lord] loved her more than the other disciples, and would kiss her often on her mouth. The other [women saw how much he loved Mariam], and say to him, “Why do you love her more than us?” The Savior answered and says to them, “Why do I not love you as (I do) her?

“Someone blind with someone who sees: if they are in darkness together, their differences do not matter. When the light is made to come, then the seeing one will see the light, and the blinded one shall remain in the darkness.”

The last is probably Jesus answering his own question (there are, of course, no quotation marks in the original): he loves Mary because she sees him, knows and understands him, where the other disciples are still blinded by their ignorance, represented by the darkness of night (John 20:9). Thus their kiss at the resurrection is an exchange of holy breath, of grace, of the living water that comes out of them both (John 4:14). For Philip, Jesus and Mary sharing a kiss is more than merely romantic. Jesus has said that those who believe in him must drink the Word that proceeds from his mouth, an image that brings to mind the “holy kiss” – a sacred exchange of breaths, hence of the πνευμα άγιον (the sacred breath/spirit), that was at that time central to several spiritual communities, including the Mystery Religions, the Gnostics, and probably the Essenes. Logion 112 in the Gospel of Thomas reads: “Jesus said: ‘Whoever drinks from my mouth will become like me. And I too will become that person, and the hidden things will be revealed to him.’” That is to say, those who accept the Word that proceeds from Jesus’s mouth will become like him, speaking the same word. That person and Jesus will become one, a concept that Jesus explores in 17:21-23, no doubt in the sense that all individuals will realize they are a part of the All. Jesus and Mary become truly one in this scene, even more one than the disciples in the next few verses, when he breathes on them.

Calling a Mary a Mary (extensively revised)

This blog entry discusses exactly what Jesus and Mary say to each other in John 20:16, especially through an analysis of the Peshitta, the ancient Aramaic New Testament (and bear in mind that Jesus and Mary spoke to each other in Aramaic!). I also take a look at the Egyptian root of the words in question, but you’ll have to use your imagination to see the hieroglyphics, which this website will not accept. This is a revision of a section of the introduction to The Gospel of John, my restoration of that original text, free from the later interpolations and excisions of the organized Christian religion. You will find ordering information here.

GJohn-Mockup1
20:16 – Jesus called Lazarus forth from the tomb by name in 11:43, but here, in a dramatic reversal, he the resurrected one calls Mary by name, the one who has come to his tomb. The implication is that Mary has, in a sense, died, and he is calling her back to life and faith, hence that this is a resurrection for both of them, in one way or the other.

In every other instance in this gospel where Jesus speaks to a woman – to Mary in the verse immediately preceding, to the woman at the well (who this work concludes is Mary), and to his mother – the Greek has him address the woman as γυνη (“woman”). In that context, the intimacy of his saying “Mary” here is overpowering.

Someone, probably the amanuensis, has inserted here and at 1:38 the statement that “rabbi” means “teacher”. That is true only in a very loose sense. The root meaning is “great”, and the word was early used as a title denoting respect. In the Second Temple period the word came to mean “my master”, and was commonly used not just to refer to religious authorities but anyone whom the speaker respected as authoritative in any subject, religious or not. It would be a couple generations after Jesus that “rabbi” would begin to refer specifically and only to a Jewish religious master. The Aramaic word in this verse of the Peshitta is ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy), which comes from the root ܪܒܢ (raban), meaning “great” or “master”.

But could Mary have called Jesus something else entirely? Mary, in verses 2, 13, and 18 calls Jesus κυριε/κυριος, meaning “master”. Only here does she appear to say something different, and there is no clear reason in Greek why she should switch from “master” to “teacher”. It is a natural question to ask whether she might have said here the same thing she says in those other verses.

To answer this question we can turn to the Peshitta, the very early Aramaic version of the New Testament. The Eastern, Syriac Church claims the Peshitta is the original New Testament, and that the Greek version on which the Western Church (including Roman Catholic and Protestant) bases its modern translations is itself a translation! Determining which of the two is the original is beyond the scope of this book. Still, the fact of the matter is that Jesus and Mary in this conversation (as is the case with every conversation in this gospel, except perhaps those with Nicodemus and Pontius Pilate) were certainly speaking Aramaic, and not Greek. Therefore, unavoidably, the Greek in this resurrection scene is itself a translation – and so, whether or not the Peshitta is the “original New Testament”, it nevertheless is far more likely to tell us exactly what the two of them actually said – simply because it is in Aramaic.

The Aramaic word for “lord”, “master”, or “husband” in the Peshitta version of this verse is ܡܳܪܝ (mary); elsewhere in classical Aramaic texts it is more often ܡܪܐ (mara). The relatively uncommon variant spelling here, not mara but mary, is surely to emphasize the similarity to Mary’s name. Some scholars say the Aramaic root means “to flap”, as in wings, such as the dove which is associated in this gospel with Mary; others say it means “to lift” or “to raise up”, which might have Messianic implications (Jesus here is raised up from death), or even “to arouse (sexually)”, which the very next verse (17), in both Greek and Aramaic, suggests is happening to Jesus. The theory has been made that the Aramaic word is related etymologically to मर (mara), meaning “death” or “delusion” in Sanskrit, and “-mare” in English, as in “nightmare”, a prophetic and even frightening dream, from mara in Old French and going back to a theoretical Indic root. Certainly Jesus and Mary have both just been through a nightmare of death and have held strong through delusion; this proposed etymological lineage again raises the thought that the “fringe” scholars who say Jesus may have spent his young adult years in the Himalayas might be right. Nevertheless, there is no clear lineage in terms of meaning between the Aramaic “master” and the Sanskrit “death” or “delusion”, just a coincidental homophony, and therefore this theory is to be rejected. Rather, the Aramaic word ܡܳܪܝ (mary), meaning “lord” or “master” in reference to Jesus, far more likely comes from a classical Egyptian root, the word mer; “overseer”. Most interestingly, it has as a homonym its own antonym, the word mer; “servant”, pronounced the same way but written with different hieroglyphics. (This Egyptian-based pun may well have been behind Jesus’s comment in 13:16.)

Curiously, the word “rabbi” would later, especially in Arabic, pick up the connotation of “lord” specifically referring to God. The etymologically related Arabic word رب‎ (rabb) means “lord” or “master”, and is used in reference to the husband/father of a household, the master of the house, and also in reference to God. But this sense comes later than the origination of this gospel, and it has never become prominent in Judaism.

We do not know whether the Beloved Disciple described his memories to his amanuensis in Aramaic or Greek; we do not even know whether the amanuensis (John the Presbyter), whose first language clearly was Greek, was even slightly familiar with Aramaic; probably no more than that, since his inserted quotations from the Tanakh come from the Septuagint, the classical translation of the Jewish scriptures into Greek. Yet certainly our eyewitness’s memory of these vivid experiences were carried in the vessel of Aramaic. And we know that the actual conversations Jesus engaged in (certainly with those closest to him, Mary and his disciples) were in Aramaic, excepting probably only those with foreigners, such as Pontius Pilate and maybe highly educated Jews like Nicodemus. It is absolutely inconceivable that Mary and the disciples would have interjected Greek into their Aramaic, Aramaic-speaking Jews describing the Jewish religious status of another Aramaic-speaking Jew, Jesus, with the word κυριη (kyrie); that foreign word, from the language (at least in the eastern part of the Roman Empire) of the imperial oppressor, would have been an uncomfortable form of address on their lips. There can be no question but that they variously called Jesus ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy, “rabbi”, but with the significance of “master”) or ܠܒ݂ܰܥܠܶܟ݂ܝ (baal, “lord” or “master”) or ܡܳܪܝ (mary, “lord” or “master”). A handful of times in this gospel Jesus is addressed as “rabbi”, with the significance of “master”, but it most likely appears here because the redactor inserted it here in a later generation when the term was common. It is far more likely that Mary said mary in 20:16, consistent with the rest of the chapter. Not only is it her form of address for Jesus everywhere else in the chapter except in this verse (20:2,13,18), but the double entendre it would present in this critical moment, each calling the other one mary, emphasizing the closeness and even unity of Jesus and Mary, would be clear – and is doubtlessly why the redactor would have replaced the word with rabbouni, to reduce the significance of Mary to that of only a humble disciple grateful for the master’s forgiveness. Besides, similar doubles entendres are frequently encountered in the gospel, including in this very scene, with isha/isha. What is more, there are close connections between this scene and 4:1-26, wherein “the woman at the well”, clearly Mary, calls Jesus mary throughout. (And that the redactor almost certainly made a change here from mary to rabbouni makes it extremely likely that he did the same at 1:38, and that the original text there also had mary.) The implications of Jesus and Mary saying Mary! to each other may have simply been too incomprehensible or too romantic for the redactor, seeking at a late stage in the devolution of the original gospel to conform it to the dogma of the new Christian religion, which declared that Jesus was entirely lacking in sexual desire and remained a virgin lifelong; he would thus have quickly changed mary for the slightly anachronistic rabbouni. and even incorrectly adding that this is a word in Hebrew and further adding his not-quite-right translation “teacher”.

Mary’s name appears in its given, formal version in the Aramaic text – ܡܪܝܡ (Maryam) – but it was more likely on the lips of her husband in a more intimate form, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (Marya) or ܡܰܪܺܝܰ (Mary). The latter is almost certainly the case, since that creates a homophony with mary meaning “lord”, “master”, or “husband”. (In either case, whether the homonyms are mara/Mara or mary/Mary doesn’t matter; in both cases, the two words, the word meaning “master” and the woman’s name, though they come from different roots, are spelled and pronounced identically.) The author of this gospel frequently uses sacred puns, doubles entendres, in order to underline the spiritual meanings. It is all but certain, then, that in the original manuscript of verse 16, in Lazarus’s recollection of what his mother later told him of this event, Jesus said her name, either “Mary!” (ܡܰܪܺܝܰ), and Mary replied with not ܪܒܢ (raban), but the homonym. This, then, is the double entendre: in the early verses of this chapter she is looking for her mary, her master and husband, and here he calls her his Mary, and she responds again by again calling him her mary. Since it is impossible to translate, the double entendre has been added parenthetically in this translation.

To drive home the point, to make sure the reader does not miss this subtlety, the Aramaic has the verb ܐܳܡܰܪ (amar; “said”) when both Jesus and Mary speak – a verb that is nearly a homonym to mary. Thus, the original verse almost certainly was rhetorically euphonious, literally reading: “Amar (Said) to her Jesus, Mary! Turned around and amar (said) to him Mary, Mary!” In Aramaic this would be: ܐܳܡܰܪ ܠܳܗ ܝܶܫܽܘܥ ܡܰܪܺܝܰ ܘܶܐܬ݂ܦ݁ܰܢܝܰܬ݂ ܘܳܐܡܪܳܐ ܠܶܗ ܡܰܪܺܝܰ ܡܳܪܝ The intricacy of this sentence is more than mere punning; this is poetry.

These doubles entendres, like others in this gospel, are of course not meant to be taken as comical, as are puns in the modern Western civilization, though the author of the gospel no doubt intended the “Mary!” “Mary!” exchange at the very least to elicit a smile from readers: it is amusing, and the gospel is laced with a good deal of this kind of gentle humor. But here, and always in this gospel, it was primarily intended to deliver a sacred message; in this case, to make very clear to us the closeness of this man and this woman, indeed their unity in God as a couple, as “one flesh”, as each a κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort) to the other.

The intimacy of this exchange may be even deeper if Mary’s name is taken back not to the traditional but unfactual “bitter tears” explanation (as suggested by Ruth 1:13,20), but to its actual Egyptian root. When Jesus calls her “Mary” he is on one level simply saying her familiar Aramaic name in its intimate form. Yet, at the same time, he is saying the Egyptian word from which her name was derived: meri, which means “beloved” or “lover”. Her given name “Mariam” actually goes back to “Miriam”, the name of Moses’s sister, which is a Semitic garbling of the Egyptian name Meri-Amun, “Beloved Amun”. (The plural of meri is merti or mertæ, from which the name of Mary’s sister, Martha, was derived. That the sisters were given names that are closely related in the Egyptian language was probably intentional.) The ancient Egyptians often called their gods meri, “beloved”. Amun was originally the god of wind (which brings to mind the whirlwind at Jesus’s baptism, when he met Mary), but in the “New Kingdom” period (about a millennium before the first century) he was conflated with Ra, the sun god (which brings to mind this gospel’s use of sun and light imagery in reference to God); and as Amun-Ra his worship became so universal in Egypt that it was virtually monotheism. Thus, there is another level to Jesus’s use of the word here: he is calling her his beloved, but also by saying this name he is also hinting that she is godly, that she is beloved as a deity is beloved.

Therefore, Jesus calls her by her name, which means “Beloved!”; and her immediate response (as recorded in the Peshitta) is Mary!, must therefore also be interpreted as “Beloved!”, even as “Beloved Deity!”, not merely as “Master!” or “Husband!”; and, what is more, with this reference Jesus retroactively transforms her Mary! (“Master!” or “Husband!”) in earlier verses into Mary! (“Beloved!”). With one word Mary is stating what Thomas will later (20:28) exclaim: “My Lord and my God!” At the same time they are confirming their love for each other and their oneness in each other.

When Mary replies thus to Jesus by saying Mary!, she is perforce also making some subtle and sublime puns – perhaps not consciously, but Jesus would have interpreted her response thus. She intends only to say the Aramaic word that means “master” or “husband” (ܡܳܪܝ). But Jesus hears in her exclamation the identically pronounced Egyptian word for “master”, implying thereby – since this word’s antonym in Egyptian is also its homonym – that she is lesser than he, his mere servant, the then-typical wife subservient to her husband, her lord and master. But, by calling her Mary!, Beloved!, and thus turning her response of Mary!, Master!, into Mary!, Beloved!, Jesus is making it clear that she is not at all less than he, a mere servant, but that she is rather “one flesh” with him (Genesis 2:24), united with him in God (John 17:23), his κοινωνος, his equal counterpart, like Wisdom as the counterpart of God in Creation (Proverbs 8:22-30), his “better half” as people say today.

Lest anyone wonder, the answer is, yes, an educated Jew like Jesus would have been very likely to know and to think about the Egyptian cognates of Aramaic words. Jews were then and still are very aware of their cultural roots in nearby Egypt, especially by celebrating the exodus from Egypt every year at Passover. In the first century, not only educated Jews but those involved in commerce would have been acquainted with the Egyptian language, and probably able to speak at least some basic phrases. Indeed, these complexities of doubles entendres involving Greek, Aramaic, and Egyptian may well have been in Jesus’s mind during the actual encounter outside the tomb; he was clearly an extremely well-educated man. Mary, as a former Samaritan Temple priestess, might possibly have learned about these matters, but there is no reason to assume they were clear to Mary at that moment. It is not unlikely that Jesus later explained these meanings of mary to her. And later yet, Mary may have tried to explain them to her son Lazarus. If that is so, then Lazarus must have done his best to pass these insights on by third hand to his amanuensis, John the Presbyter – and here they took root. We can tell from this gospel (and his other works) that John was, like Jesus, a highly educated man, in not just Jewish studies but classical literature. Even if the subtleties in the words isha and mary, and so on, were muddled by the time Lazarus tried to explain them, and even if these linguistic connections only occurred to John and did not originate with Jesus or Mary or Lazarus, they were still evidently how John chose to put into written form the oral descriptions he had been given of these events, and they were in his mind, no doubt in consultation with Lazarus and perhaps Mary, and, because he was responsible to them to record as accurately as possible the truth about what happened, an appropriate and accurate literary framework for describing these events.

(Another possibility to mention in passing is that in chapter 20 Mary may also have called Jesus ܒܥܠ [baal], as she did at the well in Sychar [John 4:16-18]; if she did, this would be another inclusio. In both Hebrew [בַּעַל] and Aramaic the word baal, like mary, means “husband”, “lord”, “master”, and also “God”. Still, because the Peshitta has Mary call Jesus mary throughout the chapter [except in verse 16, but I conclude that the original version also had that title], I reject this possibility.)

Always in this gospel from the Prologue onward, the coming of the light of day represents the dawning of spiritual enlightenment. And so it is that at this moment, as Jesus says “Mary!” and Mary says “Mary!”, the light dawns on them, both literally and figuratively. Mary now understands. And, in the new light of day, the first thing each of them sees is the beloved other.

Mary and her Formerly Dead Husband

This blog entry discusses the conversation between Jesus and Mary at the resurrection, specifically in John 20:16. This is a revision of a section of my commentaries to The Gospel of John, appended to my restoration of its original text. The gospel as generally known today, suffered a hatchet job by early Christian leaders to conform it to their dogma that turned Jesus into a Roman-style godling. The book is available in hardcover and paperback; you will find ordering information here.

GJohn-Mockup1

In every other instance in this gospel where Jesus speaks to a woman – to Mary in the verse immediately preceding, to the woman at the well (who this work concludes is Mary), and to his mother – the Greek has him address the woman as γυνη (“woman”). In that context, the intimacy of his saying “Mary” here is overpowering.

Someone, probably the amanuensis, has inserted here and at 1:38 the statement that “rabbi” means “teacher”. That is true only in a very loose sense. The root meaning is “great”, and the word was early used as a title denoting respect. In the Second Temple period the word came to mean “my master”, and was commonly used not just to refer to religious authorities but anyone whom the speaker respected as authoritative in any subject, religious or not. It would be a couple generations after Jesus that “rabbi” would begin to refer specifically and only to a Jewish religious master. The Aramaic word in this verse of the Peshitta is ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy), which comes from the root ܪܒܢ (raban), meaning “great” or “master”.

But could Mary have called Jesus something else entirely? Mary, in verses 2, 13, and 18 calls Jesus κυριε/κυριος, meaning “master”. Only here does she appear to say something different, and there is no clear reason in Greek why she should switch from “master” to “teacher”. It is a natural question to ask whether she might have said here the same thing she says in those other verses.

To answer this question we can turn to the Peshitta, the very early Aramaic version of the New Testament. The Eastern, Syriac Church claims the Peshitta is the original New Testament, and that the Greek version on which the Western Church (including Roman Catholic and Protestant) bases its modern translations is itself a translation! Determining which of the two is the original is beyond the scope of this book. Still, the fact of the matter is that Jesus and Mary in this conversation (as is the case with every conversation in this gospel, except perhaps that between Jesus and Pontius Pilate) were certainly speaking Aramaic, and not Greek. Therefore, unavoidably, the Greek in this resurrection scene is itself a translation – and so, whether or not the Peshitta is the “original New Testament”, it nevertheless is far more likely to tell us exactly what the two of them actually said – in Aramaic.

The Aramaic word for “lord”, “master”, or “husband” in the Peshitta version of this verse is ܡܳܪܝ (mary); elsewhere in classical Aramaic texts it is more often ܡܪܐ (mara). The relatively uncommon variant spelling here, not mara but mary, is surely to emphasize the similarity to Mary’s name. Some scholars say the Aramaic root means “to flap”, as in wings, such as the dove which is associated in this gospel with Mary (cf. the commentary to the baptism of Jesus); others say it means “to lift” or “to raise up”, which might have Messianic implications (Jesus here is raised up from death), or even “to arouse (sexually)”, which the very next verse (17), in both Greek and Aramaic, suggests has happened to Jesus; see the commentary to 20:17. The theory has been made that the Aramaic word is related etymologically to मर (mara), meaning “death” or “delusion” in Sanskrit, and “-mare” in English, as in “nightmare”, a prophetic and even frightening dream, from mara in Old French and going back to a theoretical Indic root. Certainly Jesus and Mary have both just been through a nightmare of death and have held strong through delusion; this proposed etymological lineage again raises the thought that the “fringe” scholars who say Jesus may have spent his young adult years in the Himalayas might be right. Nevertheless, there is no clear lineage in terms of meaning between the Aramaic “master” and the Sanskrit “death” or “delusion”, just a coincidental homophony, and therefore this theory is to be rejected. Rather, the Aramaic word ܡܳܪܝ (mary), meaning “lord” or “master” in reference to Jesus, far more likely comes from a classical Egyptian root, the word  (mer; “overseer”). Most interestingly, it has as a homonym its own antonym, the word  (mer; “servant”), pronounced the same way but written with different hieroglyphics. (This Egyptian-based pun may well have been behind Jesus’s comment in 13:16.)

We do not know whether the Beloved Disciple described his memories to his amanuensis in Aramaic or Greek; we do not even know whether the amanuensis (John the Presbyter), whose first language clearly was Greek, was even slightly familiar with Aramaic; probably no more than that, since his inserted quotations from the Tanakh come from the Septuagint, the classical translation of the Jewish scriptures into Greek. Yet certainly our eyewitness’s memory of these vivid experiences were carried in the vessel of Aramaic. And we know that the actual conversations Jesus engaged in (certainly with those closest to him, Mary and his disciples) were in Aramaic, excepting probably only those with foreigners, such as Pontius Pilate and maybe highly educated Jews like Nicodemus. It is absolutely inconceivable that Mary and the disciples would have interjected Greek into their Aramaic, calling Jesus κυριη (kyrie); that foreign word, from the language (at least in the eastern part of the Roman Empire) of the imperial oppressor, would have been an uncomfortable form of address on their lips. There can be no question but that they variously called Jesus ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy, “rabbi”, but with the significance of “master”) or ܠܒ݂ܰܥܠܶܟ݂ܝ (baal, “lord” or “master”) or ܡܪܝܐ, (mary, “lord” or “master”). The first was not yet common as a term of respect for religious leaders; thus, it most likely appears here because the redactor inserted it here in a later generation when the term was common. Thus, that actually Mary said mary in 20:16 is all but certain. Not only is it her form of address for Jesus everywhere else in the chapter except in this verse (20:2,13,18), but the double entendre it would present in this critical moment, each calling the other one mary, emphasizing the closeness and even unity of Jesus and Mary, would be clear – and is doubtlessly why the redactor would have replaced the word with rabbouni. Besides, similar doubles entendres are frequently encountered in the gospel, including in this very scene, with isha/isha. What is more, there are close connections between this scene and 4:1-26, wherein “the woman at the well”, clearly Mary, calls Jesus mary throughout. (And that the redactor almost certainly made a change here from mary to rabbouni makes it extremely likely that he did the same at 1:38, and that the original text there also had mary.) The implications of Jesus and Mary saying Mary! to each other may have simply been too incomprehensible or too romantic for the redactor, seeking at a late stage in the devolution of the original gospel to conform it to the dogma of the new Christian religion, which declared that Jesus was entirely lacking in sexual desire and remained a virgin lifelong; he would thus have quickly changed mary for the slightly anachronistic rabbouni. and even incorrectly adding that this is a word in Hebrew and further adding his not-quite-right translation “teacher”.

Mary’s name appears in its given, formal version in the Aramaic text – ܡܪܝܡ (Maryam) – but it was more likely on the lips of her husband in a more intimate form, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (Marya) or ܡܰܪܺܝܰ (Mary). The latter is almost certainly the case, since that creates a homophony with mary meaning “lord”, “master”, or “husband”. (In either case, whether the homonyms are mara/Mara or mary/Mary doesn’t matter; in both cases, the two words, the word meaning “master” and the woman’s name, though they come from different roots, are spelled and pronounced identically.) The author of this gospel frequently uses sacred puns, doubles entendres, in order to underline the spiritual meanings. It is all but certain, then, that in the original manuscript of verse 16, in Lazarus’s recollection of what his mother later told him of this event, Jesus said her name, either “Mary!” (ܡܰܪܺܝܰ), and Mary replied with not ܪܒܢ (raban), but the homonym. This, then, is the double entendre: in the early verses of this chapter she is looking for her mary, her master and husband, and here he calls her his Mary, and she responds again by again calling him her mary. Since it is impossible to translate, the double entendre has been added parenthetically in this translation.

To drive home the point, to make sure the reader does not miss this subtlety, the Aramaic has the verb ܐܳܡܰܪ (amar; “said”) when both Jesus and Mary speak – a verb that is nearly a homonym to mary. Thus, the original verse almost certainly literally read: “Said (Amar) to her Jesus, Mary! Turned around and said (amar) to him Mary, Mary!” In Aramaic this would be: ܐܳܡܰܪ ܠܳܗ ܝܶܫܽܘܥ ܡܰܪܺܝܰ ܘܶܐܬ݂ܦ݁ܰܢܝܰܬ݂ ܘܳܐܡܪܳܐ ܠܶܗ ܡܰܪܺܝܰ ܡܳܪܝ The intricacy of this sentence is more than mere punning; this is poetry.

These doubles entendres, like others in this gospel, are of course not meant to be taken as comical, as are puns in the modern Western civilization, though the author of the gospel no doubt intended the “Mary!” “Mary!” exchange at the very least to elicit a smile from readers: it is amusing, and the gospel is laced with a good deal of this kind of gentle humor. But here, and always in this gospel, it was primarily intended to deliver a sacred message; in this case, to make very clear to us the closeness of this man and this woman, indeed their unity in God as a couple, as “one flesh”, as each a κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort) to the other.

The intimacy of this exchange may be even deeper if Mary’s name is taken back not to the traditional “bitter tears” explanation (as suggested by Ruth 1:13,20), but to its actual Egyptian root. When Jesus calls her “Mary” he is on one level simply saying her familiar Aramaic name in its intimate form. Yet, at the same time, he is saying the Egyptian word from which her name was derived:  (meri), which means “beloved” or “lover”. Her given name “Mariam” goes back to “Miriam”, the name of Moses’s sister, which is a Semitic garbling of the Egyptian name Meri-Amun, “Beloved Amun”. (The plural of meri is merti or mertæ, from which the name of Mary’s sister, Martha, was derived. That the sisters were given names that are closely related in the Egyptian language was probably intentional.) The ancient Egyptians often called their gods meri, beloved. Amun was originally the god of wind (which brings to mind the whirlwind at Jesus’s baptism, when he met Mary), but in the “New Kingdom” period (about a millennium before the first century) he was conflated with Ra, the sun god (which brings to mind this gospel’s use of sun and light imagery in reference to God); and as Amun-Ra his worship became so universal in Egypt that it was virtually monotheism. Thus, there is another level to Jesus’s use of the word here: he is calling her his beloved, but by this word hinting that she is godly, that she is beloved as a deity is beloved. With this reference Jesus retroactively transforms her Mary! (“Master!” or “Husband!”) in earlier verses into Mary! (“Beloved!”), and her immediate response here (as recorded in the Peshitta), Mary!, must therefore also be interpreted as “Beloved!”, not as “Master!” or “Husband!”, or else in addition thereto.

And so, when Mary replies to Jesus by saying Mary!, she is perforce also making some subtle and sublime puns – perhaps not consciously, but Jesus would have interpreted her response thus. She intends only to say the Aramaic word that means “master” or “husband” (ܡܳܪܝ). But Jesus hears implied the identically pronounced Egyptian word for “master” (), implying thereby – since this word’s antonym is also a homonym () – that she is lesser than he, his mere servant. But, by calling her Mary!, Beloved!, and thus turning her response of Mary!, Master!, into Mary!, Beloved!, Jesus is making it clear that she is not at all less than he, a mere servant, but that she is rather “one flesh” with him(Genesis 2:24), united with him in God (John 17:23).

It is at about this moment, as Jesus says “Mary!” and Mary says “Mary!”, that the light dawns on them, both literally and figuratively. Mary now understands. And, in the new light of day, the first thing each of them sees is the beloved other.

Lest anyone wonder, the answer is, yes, an educated Jew like Jesus would have been very likely to know and to think about the Egyptian cognates of Aramaic words. Jews were then and still are very aware of their cultural roots in Egypt, especially by celebrating the exodus from Egypt every year at Passover. In the first century, not only educated Jews but those involved in commerce would have been acquainted with the Egyptian language, and probably able to speak at least some basic phrases. Indeed, these complexities of doubles entendres involving Greek, Aramaic, and Egyptian may well have been in Jesus’s mind during the actual encounter outside the tomb; he was clearly an extremely well-educated man. Mary, as a former Samaritan Temple priestess, might possibly have learned about these matters, but there is no reason to assume they were clear to Mary at that moment. It is not unlikely that Jesus later explained these meanings of mary to her. And later yet, Mary may have tried to explain them to her son Lazarus. If that is so, then Lazarus must have done his best to pass these insights on by third hand to his amanuensis, John the Presbyter – and here they took root. We can tell from this gospel (and his other works) that John was, like Jesus, a highly educated man, in not just Jewish studies but world literature. Even if these subtleties in the word mary were muddled by the time Lazarus tried to explain them, John would have understood instantly – and clearly did understand, since this resurrection scene clearly is meant to suggest them.

Calling a Mary a Mary

This blog discusses John 20:16. Does Mary embrace Jesus? Does she call him a mary, Aramaic for “lord” or “master”? This comes from my commentaries to the Gospel of John, appended to my restoration of its original text. The gospel as generally known today, suffered a hatchet job by early Christian leaders to conform it to their dogma that turned Jesus into a Roman-style godling. The forthcoming book will include a fresh translation of the gospel from the original Greek. This is a work in progress; feedback is most welcome, and people are encouraged to get the book when it comes available, by the end of this year.

Jesus called Lazarus forth from the tomb by name in 11:43, but here, in a dramatic reversal, he the resurrected one calls Mary by name, the one who has come to his tomb. The implication is that Mary has, in a sense, died, and he is calling her back to life and faith, hence that this is a resurrection for both of them, in one way or the other.
Someone, probably the amanuensis, has inserted here and at 1:38 the statement that “rabbi” means “teacher”. That is true only in a very loose sense. The root meaning is “great”, and the word was early used as a title denoting reverence. In the Second Temple period the word came to mean “my master”, and was commonly used not just to refer to religious authorities but anyone whom the speaker respected as authoritative in any subject, religious or not. The Aramaic word in this verse of the Peshitta is ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy), which comes from the root ܪܒܢ (raban), meaning “great” or “master”.

But could Mary have called Jesus something else entirely? Mary, in verses 2, 13, and 18 calls Jesus κυριε/κυριος, meaning “master”. Only here does she appear to say something different; could she have said the same thing she does in those other verses?

To answer this question we can turn to the Peshitta, the very early Aramaic version of the New Testament. The Eastern, Syriac Church claims the Peshitta is the original New Testament, and that the Greek version on which the Western Church (including Roman Catholic and Protestant) bases its modern translations is itself a translation! Determining which of the two is the original is beyond the scope of this book. Still, the fact of the matter is that Jesus and Mary in this conversation (as is the case with every conversation in this gospel, except perhaps that between Jesus and Pontius Pilate) were certainly speaking Aramaic, and not Greek. Therefore, unavoidably, the Greek in this resurrection scene is a translation – and so, whether or not the Peshitta is the original New Testament, it nevertheless is far more likely to tell us exactly what the two of them actually said.

The Aramaic word in this passage of the Peshitta for “lord” or “master” is ܡܳܪܝ (mary); elsewhere in classical Aramaic texts it is ܡܪܐ (mara). The root apparently means “to lift” or “to raise up”, which might have Messianic implications. Her name, “Mary”, is either ܡܪܝܡ (Maryam) or, more likely on the lips of her husband, in a more intimate form, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (Marya), or even in its original version from Ruth 1:13,20, ܡܪܐ (Mara); the root of this name means “bitter”. The two words, though from different roots, are spelled and pronounced identically. Therefore, if this was what Mary said, then these verses contain a kind of sacred pun: she is looking for her mary, her master, and he calls her his Mary. Very possibly, then, in the original verse 16, or in Lazarus’s recollection of what his mother later told him of this event, Jesus said “Mara!”, ܡܪܐ (Mara), and Mary replied with not ܪܒܢ (raban), but “Mara!”, ܡܪܐ (mara).

This double entendre or pun, like others in this gospel, is of course not meant to be taken as comical, as are puns in the modern Western civilization – though the author of the gospel no doubt intended the “Mary!” “Mary!” exchange to elicit a smile from readers: it is amusing, and the gospel is laced with a good deal of this kind of gentle humor. But here and always in this gospel it would primarily be intended to deliver a sacred message; in this case, to make very clear to us the closeness of this man and this woman, indeed their unity as a couple, as “one flesh”, as each a κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort) to the other, to cite the term the Gospel of Philip uses in reference to them.

We do not know whether the Beloved Disciple described his memories to his amanuensis in Aramaic or Greek; we do not even know whether the amanuensis (probably John the Presbyter), whose first language clearly was Greek, was even slightly familiar with Aramaic; probably not, since his Hebrew was so weak that his inserted quotations from the Tanakh come from the Septuagint, the classical translation of the Jewish scriptures into Greek. Yet certainly our eyewitness’s memory of these vivid experiences were carried in the vessel of Aramaic. And we know that the actual conversations Jesus engaged in (certainly with those closest to him, Mary and his disciples) were in Aramaic, excepting probably only those with foreigners, such as Pontius Pilate. It is absolutely inconceivable that Mary and the disciples would have interjected Greek into their Aramaic, calling Jesus κυριη; that foreign word, from the language of the imperial oppressor (at least in the eastern part of the Roman Empire), would have been uncomfortable on their lips. There can be no question but that they variously called Jesus by any or all of these synonyms, ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy, “rabbi”, but with the significance of “master”) or ܠܒ݂ܰܥܠܶܟ݂ܝ (ba’al, “lord” or “master”) or ܡܪܝܐ, (mary, “lord” or “master”). The first was not yet common as a term of respect for religious leaders; thus, the possibility that Mary said mary in 20:16 is very strong. Not only is it her form of address for Jesus everywhere else in the chapter (verses 2, 13, and 18), but the double entendre it would present in this critical moment, emphasizing the closeness between Jesus and Mary, would be clear (and is doubtlessly why the redactor would have replaced the word with rabbouni. Besides, similar doubles entendres are frequently encountered in the gospel, including in this very scene, with isha/isha. What is more, the complex inclusio of this entire conversation with that in 1:38-42, raises the question whether the word in 1:38 was originally mary as well. It seems extremely likely therefore, that at 4:25,29 and at 20:16) the original text had mary, as the Peshitta does at 20:2,13,18.

Again, as with isha/isha, this sacred pun would be to emphasize how Jesus and Mary, as portrayed in this gospel (as in the Gospel of Philip), were each the other’s κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort). And again, this may have simply been too incomprehensible or romantic for the redactor, seeking at a late stage in the devolution of the original gospel to conform it to the dogma of the new Christian religion, who would have quickly changed mary (“lord”) for rabbouni. and even incorrectly adding that this is a word in Hebrew and further adding his not-quite-correct translation “teacher”.

After much consideration I do not see the Talpiot “Mariamenou” ossuary as shedding light on this matter. See the essay on that subject [posted as the blog beneath this one].

Another possibility to mention in passing is that in chapter 20 Mary may also have called Jesus ܠܒ݂ܰܥܠܶܟ݂ܝ (ba’al), as she did at the well in Sychar (John 4:16-18); if she did, this would be another inclusio. In both Hebrew (בָּעַל) and Aramaic the word ba’al, like mary, means “husband”, “lord”, “master”, and also “God”. Still, because the Peshitta has Mary call Jesus mary throughout the chapter (except in verse 16, but I conclude that the original version also had this title), I reject this possibility.

It is at about this moment, as Jesus says “Mary!” and Mary says “Mary!”, that the light dawns, both literally and figuratively. Mary now understands. And, in the new light of day, the first thing they see is each other.

Jesus is naked, since his entombment shrouds are said (20:5-7) to be still in the tomb, and Mary is pretty close to naked herself, since the tradition was for those in mourning to tear their clothes asunder. This is different from Lazarus, who came out still bound in his grave clothes, hence clearly the portrayal of a man and a woman naked and alone in a garden is intentional.

Their nakedness first represents birth and death; as Job puts it (Job 1:21), “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there.” This is, of course, a second birth for Jesus, just as he enacted it with John (1:32-33) and discussed it with Nicodemus (3:3-7) and so an inclusio with the beginning of the gospel.

Second, their nakedness brings to mind Adam and Eve naked in the Garden of Eden, hence a return to the condition of humanity before that primordial couple ate of the fruit. Modern readers, reading Genesis through their own cultural lenses, often think that they clothed themselves out of a kind of sexually fueled embarrassment for being “naked in public”. But a careful reading of the text reveals that, no, they were afraid of their vulnerability in the face of God’s omnipotence, especially following their disobedience of God, and so they sewed leaves together to disguise themselves as trees in this garden of trees. So the nakedness of Jesus and Mary is to say that no person need feel any longer afraid of God, as needing to hide her- or himself from God or ignore God, that “all is forgiven”, as the classic prophets often put it, as long as the individual accepts the Λογος, the truth and wisdom of the plan of God. Spiritually speaking, true trust is true nakedness, with no need to hide oneself, or to make of oneself something other than naturally human. In that sense, this is not just a recalling of Adam and Eve, but an eschatological nakedness: Jesus and Mary are the “Adam and Eve” of the people of the future who are completely integrated into the Λογος, who trust God completely, and do not put clothes on out of fear or misrepresentation of their true selves. In Logion 37 of the Gospel of Thomas the disciples ask Jesus, “When will you appear to us, and when will we see you?”, and he replies, “When you can take off your clothes without feeling ashamed, and you take your clothes and throw them beneath your feet like little children and trample them; then you will see the Son of the Living One, and you will not be afraid.” The (Greek) Gospel of the Egyptians similarly has Jesus reply, “When you have trampled on the garment of shame, and when the two become one, and the male with the female is neither male nor female.” So here Jesus appears, his and his bride’s clothes removed and unashamed thereof. (Ironically, in the next chapter, Simon the Rock is fishing naked, but puts on his clothes before swimming ashore where Jesus is.)

Third, while the sexual element may or may not have been prominent in the Garden of Eden story, it is in the Song of Songs story, and very much so here as well. There had to be some sexual energy in their embrace (and no doubt a kiss, as the implications of the Odyssey suggest) in the next verse; most emphatically, Jerome’s Noli me tangere (“Do not touch me”) is repugnant as a translation. This is Jesus’s and Mary’s hierogamy, their spiritual (re)marriage, and so it has to be erotic.

This scene is frighteningly beautiful, joyfully fearsome. Mary encounters a dead body that speaks to her: in her culture he is a ghost or an angel, perhaps, or Death Incarnate even, and it is impossible for her not to be afraid. And yet, when she comes close to him, and looks through the bruises and wounds, she sees a familiar face. She smells the comfortable scent of his skin. She feels the warmth of his body against hers, the wonderful strength of his arms. She is scared and ecstatic at once. In the words of Rainer Maria Rilke, if an angel

… gesetzt selbst, es nähme
einer mich plötzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von seinem
stärkeren Dasein. Denn das Schöne ist nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen,
und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmäht,
uns zu zerstören. Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich.

put itself before me and pulled
me suddenly against its heart, I would be overwhelmed by its
prodigious existence. For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we can barely endure,
and we admire it so, because it serenely scorns
to destroy us. Even a single angel is terrifying.

And so: “Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5). The first rays of dawn reveal to Mary the face of her beloved husband. They embrace and kiss, naked as they are, in a garden, they are the eternal lovers, beginning with Adam and Eve, and their wedding at the beginning of the gospel is now confirmed and made holy, and the celestial clock is set back to the moment of Creation, εν αρχη ην ο λογος, with the first sin of humanity trying to separate itself from God now forgiven, and the entire universe is reborn.

Only a few manuscripts, most importantly the Codex Sinaiticus (01C2a), have the critical phrase at the end of this verse, “And she runs to embrace him.” This may be one cut by the redactor which some early copies of the gospel managed to retain. It is, in any case essential, setting up Jesus’s saying “Do not keep clinging to me.” That she ran dramatically informs the reader as to her sudden change from the depths of deepest despair to cerulean euphoria. It also adds confirmation that she was inside the tomb, with some distance intervening between her and Jesus.

Without doubt the gospel writer had in mind these lines from the Song of Songs: ἕως οὗ διαπνεύσῃ ἡ ἡμέρα καὶ κινηθῶσιν αἱ σκιαί. ἀπόστρεψον (“Until the day breathes and the shadows flee, turn around, my beloved”) and ἐκράτησα αὐτὸν καὶ οὐκ ἀφῆκα αὐτόν (“I took hold of him and did not let (him) go”), Song 2:17a and 3:4b.

But in these brief but mighty phrases of verse 16 we find not only an echo of the Song of Songs; the Odyssey too is very clearly in the author’s mind. Consider these lines (205, 207-208, 231-232, 241, 247-250), from when Odysseus reveals himself to his longsuffering wife Penelope:

τῆς δ’ αὐτοῦ λύτο γούνατα καὶ φίλον ἦτορ …
δακρύσασα δ’ ἔπειτ’ ἰθὺς κίεν, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας
δειρῇ βάλλ’ Ὀδυσῆϊ, κάρη δ’ ἔκυσ …
τῷ δ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον ὑφ’ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο:
κλαῖε δ’ ἔχων ἄλοχον θυμαρέα, κέδν’ εἰδυῖαν. …
καί νύ κ’ ὀδυρομένοισι φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς …
καὶ τότ’ ἄρ’ ἣν ἄλοχον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς
ὦ γύναι, οὐ γάρ πω πάντων ἐπὶ πείρατ’ ἀέθλων
ἤλθομεν, ἀλλ’ ἔτ’ ὄπισθεν ἀμέτρητος πόνος ἔσται,
πολλὸς καὶ χαλεπός, τὸν ἐμὲ χρὴ πάντα τελέσσαι.

And then her knees and precious heart gave way …
Then in tears she ran to him, to throw her arms
Around Odysseus’s neck, to kiss his face …
And she elicited in him even more the desire to weep;
He held his wife, beloved and loyal, and shed his tears.
Rosy-fingered Dawn would have risen upon them as they wept …
And then resourceful Odysseus said to his wife,
“Woman, we haven’t finished yet with all our trials
For I must yet undertake, in the future, a great work,
Long and difficult, before I have completely finished. …”

Like Penelope, Mary is tottering on her legs, exhausted by considerable stress, and is weeping copious tears (20:11). Like Penelope, Mary runs to Jesus and embraces him (20:16). As in the Odyssey, this moving moment comes at dawn (20:1). And like Odysseus, Jesus says there are things that they both yet must accomplish, especially he himself (20:17).

This embrace was more than romantic and erotic, though it was that too; this embrace is what Jung calls the coincidentia oppositorum, the union of complementary opposites. As it is put in The Circle of Life:

The embrace is a sign of love that symbolizes the Sacred Hoop: both persons are within the circle. When we embrace, first we open our arms, becoming vulnerable in a sense, exposing our hearts both literally and figuratively, to create space in ourselves to welcome the other into us. Then we close our arms around each other, one with each other within the Sacred Hoop. (Sexuality is an extension of the embrace, of course – an even closer joining in which we each enter even more deeply into the other, body and soul.) Then, when the ceremony of embrace ends, we open again, and return to our separate identities, but enriched by the moment in which we were one together. Now and forever after, we are connected, and carry a little bit of the other in us.

And likewise the kiss is more than “just a kiss”; it is the eternal man and woman exchanging their sacred breath/spirit (ר֖וּחַ [ruach] in Hebrew and πνευμα [pneuma] in Greek). As Plotinus would later put it (in his Enneads, II.7), “All things depend on each other; as has been said, ‘Everything breathes together.’” And as the noncanonical Gospel of Philip would put it in years to come (35, 59):

[Grace comes] from him, from the mouth, the place from which the Word came forth, to be nourished from the mouth and to become perfected. The perfect conceive and give birth by a kiss. This is why we also kiss each other, to receive conception from the grace that is in each other.
And the companion of the [Anointed One] is Mariam the Magdalene. [The Lord] loved her more than the other disciples, and would kiss her often on her mouth. The other [women saw how much he loved Mariam], and say to him, “Why do you love her more than us?” The Savior answered and says to them, “Why do I not love you (as I do) her?”

Mary and her Mary

Following is a heavily revised section of my commentaries on John 20:16, in reference to what Mary and Jesus call each other at the resurrection. This is part of my ongoing project of establishing the original text of the Gospel of John (before later religious authorities edited it to bring it into line with their Jesus-as-Roman-godling dogma), and translating it from the Greek with commentaries.

The Aramaic word in this passage of the Peshitta for “lord” or “master” is ܡܪܝܐ, which is pronounced mary. Her name, “Mary”, is either ܡܪܝܡ (Maryam) or, more likely on the lips of her husband, in its familiar form, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (Marya) – this name, though from a different root, is spelled and pronounced identically to mary, the word for “lord” or “master”; only the vowel markings differ. Therefore, if this was what Mary said, then these verses contain a kind of sacred pun: she is looking for her mary, her master, and he calls her his Mary. Very possibly, in the original verse 16, or in the recollection of Lazarus of what his mother later told him of this event, Jesus said “Mary!”, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (marya), and Mary replied with not ܪܒܢ (raban), but “Mary!”, ܡܪܝܐ (mary).

This pun, like others in this gospel, is of course not to be comical, as are puns in the modern Western civilization – though the author of the gospel no doubt intended the “Mary!” “Mary!” exchange to elicit a smile from readers: it is amusing, and the gospel is laced with a good deal of this kind of gentle humor. But here and always in this gospel it would primarily be intended to deliver a sacred message; in this case, to make very clear to us the closeness of this man and this woman, indeed their unity as a couple, as “one flesh”, as each a κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort) to the other, to cite the term the Gospel of Philip uses in reference to them.

We do not know whether the Beloved Disciple described his memories to his amanuensis in Aramaic or Greek; we do not even know whether the Greek-speaking amanuensis (probably John the Presbyter) was at all familiar with Aramaic; probably not, since his Hebrew was so weak that his inserted quotations from the Tanakh come from the Septuagint, the classical translation of the Jewish scriptures into Greek. Yet certainly our eyewitness’s memory of these vivid experiences carried them in the vessel of Aramaic. And we know that the actual conversations Jesus engaged in (certainly with those closest to him, Mary and his disciples) were in Aramaic, excepting perhaps only those with foreigners, such as Pontius Pilate. It is absolutely inconceivable that Mary and the disciples would have interjected Greek into their Aramaic, calling Jesus κυριη; that foreign word would have been uncomfortable on their lips. There can be no question but that they called Jesus either ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy, “rabbi”) or ܠܒ݂ܰܥܠܶܟ݂ܝ (ba’al, “lord” or “master”) or ܡܪܝܐ, mary. The first was not yet common as a term of respect for religious leaders; thus, the possibility that Mary said mary is very strong, not only by the force of the pun it would present in this scene, but in that similar punning is frequently encountered in the gospel, including this very scene, with isha/isha.

What is more, given the complex inclusio of this entire conversation with that in 1:38-42, this strong possibility raises the question whether the word in 1:41 was originally mary as well, to preserve the several parallels. Indeed, μεσσιας is simply a Greek transliteration of the Aramaic ܡܫܝܚܐ (meshiha), which is in its spelling and pronunciation not far from ܡܪܝܐ, and quite conceivably the redactor could have been reminded of this near-homonym and near-synonym when he was deciding what to substitute for the latter. Strengthening this possibility is the fact that, out of the entire New Testament, the transliteration μεσσιας is found only here and at 4:25,29, where Jesus first meets Mary. It seems extremely likely therefore, that here, 4:25,29, and at 20:16 (and perhaps verses 2, 13, and 18) the original text had mary.

Again, as with isha/isha, this sacred pun would be to emphasize how Jesus and Mary, as portrayed in this gospel (as in the Gospel of Philip), were each the other’s κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort). And again, this may have simply been too incomprehensible or romantic for the redactor, seeking at a late stage in the devolution of the original gospel to conform it to the dogma of the new Christian religion, who would have quickly changed mary (“lord”) for rabbouni, and even incorrectly adding that this is a word in Hebrew.

Supporting this possible mary/Mary reading is the fact that, as James Daniel Tabor has documented, the Talpiot tomb includes one ossuary marked “Marya”, and another marked “Maramenon he [known as] Mara”, two affectionate diminutives of the name Mariam (Mary). The organic material in the latter ossuary bears no mitochondrial DNA relation on the mothers’ side to the material in the ossuary marked “Yeshuah bar Yehosef” (Jesus son of Joseph), raising the strong likelihood that these are the remains of the one Mary significant in Jesus’s life who wasn’t blood-related to him: Mary Magdalene. (The first ossuary, Tabor concludes, contains the remains of Mary the mother of Jesus.) Add to that the fact that the noncanonical Acts of Philip refers to her as Mariamne (a slightly different Greek spelling of “Maramenon”), suggesting an oral remembrance of her being called that during her life. Add to that, as Wayne Johnson points out, the fact that the word mari (“husband” in French) and the English word “marry” are etymologically rooted in this woman’s name; etymology, i.e., linguistic archæology, often reveals facts that have otherwise been lost to time.

Isha-Isha and Mary-Mary

From my commentaries-in-development on the resurrection scene in the Gospel of John chapter 20. (For those tuning in late, I am restoring the original version from before the organized post-Pauline religious authorities edited the gospel to conform with their dogma, and translating it afresh from the Greek.)

20:13,15 – In the Peshitta (the very early Aramaic New Testament that some Christian groups consider the original), the Aramaic word for “woman” here is ܐܢܬܬܐ (a’entəṯā)– which has as its primary meaning not “woman”, but “wife”. Elsewhere in the gospel, this word clearly means “woman”, but only when the context makes this secondary meaning clear, such as when Jesus addresses his mother in 2:4. Here, without such a context, the Aramaic must be taken as Jesus calling her his wife.

However, something deeper yet may have been the original. This scene is clearly meant to reflect the beginning of Genesis, wherein Adam (in the Hebrew of Genesis 2:23) calls his newly created companion אשה (isha, “woman”). Rod Borghese points out the fact that Jesus is called Isha (ईश) in Sanskrit and Issa (عيسى) in Arabic, and other Eastern languages, probably from a root meaning “lord”, “master”, or “God”. There have been persistent rumors for two millennia that Jesus spent his early adult years in India, and there is an amount of circumstantial evidence to support this view; see for example Jesus Lived in India, by Holger Kersten; The Original Jesus, by Elmar Gruber and Holger Kersten; or Jesus in Kashmir, by Suzanne Olsson). Therefore, there may have been a sacred pun or euphony in this first stage of the encounter of reborn husband and wife – Mary says she is looking for her isha, her lord, and the “angel” (actually, as discussed below, the shadow of Jesus on the wall of the tomb by the new dawn light) replies with isha, woman.

Why this isha/isha pun? Because Jesus and Mary, as portrayed in this gospel (as in the Gospel of Philip), are each the other’s κοινωνος (companion, partner, or consort). And this sacred pun may have been just too romantic or incomprehensible to the redactor, who would have been strongly motivated to change the text to read as it has come down to us.

20:16 – Someone, probably the amanuensis, has inserted here and at 1:38 the statement that “rabbi” means “teacher”. That is true only in a very loose sense. The root meaning is “great”, and was used as a title denoting reverence. In the Second Temple period the word meant “my master”, and was commonly used not with religious authorities but with anyone whom the speaker respected as authoritative in any way, religious or not. The Peshitta gives the word ܪܒܘܠܝ (rab’uwliy), which comes from the root ܪܒܢ (raban), meaning “great” or “master”.

But could Mary have called Jesus something else entirely? Mary, in verses 2, 13, and 18 calls Jesus κυριε/κυριος, meaning “lord”. Only here does she appear to say something different; could she have said the same thing she does in those other verses? The Aramaic word for “lord” in the Peshitta is ܡܪܝܐ, which is pronounced “mary”, and her name, “Mary”, is either ܡܪܝܡ (maryam) or, more familiarly, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (marya) – the latter, though from a different root, is spelled and pronounced almost identically as mary, the word for “lord”; only the vowel markings differ. Thus these verses have a kind of sacred pun: she is looking for her mary, her lord, and he calls her his Mary. Very possibly, in the original verse 16 Jesus said “Mary”, ܡܰܪܺܝܰܐ (marya), and Mary replied, not ܪܒܢ (raban), but “mary”, ܡܪܝܐ (mary). And again, the redactor, seeking at a late stage in the devolution of the original gospel to conform it to the dogma of the new Christian religion, would either have failed to understand this dual mary/Mary or found it objectionably romantic, and replaced mary with Rabbouni.

Supporting this possible mary/Mary reading is the fact that, as James Daniel Tabor has documented, the Talpiot tomb includes one ossuary marked “Marya”, and another marked “Maramenon he [known as] Mara”, two affectionate diminutives of the name Mariam (Mary). The organic material in the latter ossuary bears no mitochondrial DNA relation on the mothers’ sides to the material in the ossuary marked “Yeshuah bar Yehosef” (Jesus son of Joseph), raising the strong likelihood that it is the one Mary significant in Jesus’s life who wasn’t blood-related to him: Mary Magdalene. (The first ossuary, Tabor concludes, contains the remains of Mary the mother of Jesus.) Add to that the fact that the noncanonical Acts of Philip refers to her as Mariamne (a slightly different Greek spelling of “Maramenon”), suggesting an oral remembrance of her being called that during her life.

And it is not unlikely that she also said ܠܒ݂ܰܥܠܶܟ݂ܝ (ba’al), as at the well in Sychar (John 4:16-18). In both Hebrew (בָּעַל in Hebrew) and Aramaic the word ba’al means “husband”, “lord”, “master”, and “god”. Or she might have said both mary and ba’al.