More Reading
Yes, still flat on my back. I've finished a six-day
course of steroids (a prednisone taper, which I remember fondly from my days
writing documentation for medical records software—we liked to show off
how easy it was to code a macro that would prescribe the gradually decreasing
dosage), and I can now stand up easily and remain sitting or standing for short
periods of time with only occasional burst of relatively mild pain and a slowly
increasing dull ache. Hm. I think I need to go back to the
doctor.
In the meantime, I've been doing
more reading, in addition to working on the outline for my next novel and
playing World of Warcraft (my warlock on Argent Dawn, Dairon, is now 35th level,
though my friends on that server are either off on different servers or
engrossed in D&D Online right now).
Irish
Cream by Andrew Greeley was a pretty light read
with little in the way of lasting impression, and I'd have to say the same for
Bridge of
Birds by Barry Hughart, though that was a
pleasantly amusing fantasy. Then today I finally broke down and read
The Da Vinci
Code, because I didn't want to see the movie
without having read the book. Now I'm not sure I want to see the
movie.
So, it was a good story. Even as I
was snorting and occasionally yelling about grievous inaccuracies in historical
and Biblical scholarship in the book, I kept turning the pages. I read the book
in about 5 hours. I can't say it's hugely well-written: there are long sections
of exposition, at least three places where characters respond to things that
other characters have thought to themselves rather than spoken aloud, and one
terribly inconsistent chapter (chapter 63, with the cars). But it kept me
turning pages—all 454 of them—so I have to admit that the story was
an effective thriller.
Of course, I had
problems with it. This is not my first exposure to the elaborate Grail legend
that proposes a marriage between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, leading to a
bloodline traced down to the Merovingian kings. I don't believe it, but not
because I cling to the idea that Jesus was a celibate. Heck, I know Peter (the
"first Pope") was married, because Jesus healed his mother-in-law (Matt 8:14,
Mark 1:30, Luke 4:38), and you can't have a mother-in-law without being married
(and why would you want to?). As this book and many others have pointed out, if
Jesus had not been married, that would have been strange enough that it would
likely have received comment or explanation in our canonical gospels. Maybe he
was, maybe he wasn't. I also know from the Bible and respectable Biblical
scholarship that Jesus was hardly ascetic in other aspects of his
life—eating and drinking, with whoever would share his table, was a
significant part of his ministry, and he wasn't drinking grape juice.
My problems with the whole Holy
Grail—Mary Magdalene thing is twofold (there might be a third, but it's a
relatively minor point):
1) According to
Brown's version of the legend, Mary was pregnant at the time of the crucifixion
and, with the help of Joseph of Arimathea (Jesus' uncle? where did that come
from?), fled to France to protect her baby. Hm. Maybe. And yet Jesus' brother,
James (Matt 13:55, Mark 6:3) held a position of leadership in the church after
Jesus' death (Acts 1:14). The fact that there's a letter of James in the
canonical New Testament indicates that his authority was respected, at least
partly because of his blood relationship to Jesus. Same thing with Jude. So if
the brothers of Jesus didn't flee, but used his spiritual and hereditary
authority to take leadership in the Church, why would Jesus' wife and daughter
flee rather than claim their own
authority?
2) Speaking of Mary's own
authority... By some accounts Mary Magdalene is the first witness to the
Resurrection (I guess she didn't flee to Gaul until after that, anyway), and
"the apostle to the Apostles" by virtue of being the one who told all the men
that Jesus was risen (Matt 28:10, John 20:17–18). There's some evidence to
suggest that her authority in the ancient church was, in fact, more considerable
than any surviving records tell us, and was, in fact, suppressed by the
expanding Roman church as it consolidated its power and spread its brand of
orthodoxy. But that authority derives from her role as an apostle, not from a
role as a wife and mother. The Grail legend, as Brown retells it, subverts her
genuine spiritual authority into a consequence of her being Jesus' wife. If
anything, the Grail legend as recounted by Brown actually
supports
the position of the Roman Catholic Church in granting authority to women only in
subordinate roles. It continues to deny the spiritual authority of
women.
3) The relatively minor one, but
I'll mention it anyway. It strikes me as pretty darned Eurocentric to propose
that the bloodline of Jesus and Mary linked up with a French royal line.
Eurocentric and all pro-monarchy and stuff. That alone doesn't mean it's not
true, but it does make me wonder about the political agenda of the people who
came up with this stuff.
And quickly:
• The tetragrammaton (YHWH) is
derived from the androgyne name Jehovah? No, "Jehovah" is a clumsy Christian
attempt to read the tetragrammaton with the vowels of "Adonai" superimposed on
it.
• The Council of Nicea didn't
introduce the idea of Jesus' divinity. The only question under debate at that
Council was whether the Word that had incarnated in Jesus (the Logos mentioned
in John 1:1) was equal with God or was simply the first of God's creations (the
Arian position). Nobody at that time questioned that the more-or-less-divine
Word had been incarnate in Jesus.
• To
argue that the Nag Hammadi texts (and the Dead Sea Scrolls, which to my
knowledge are all pre-Christian), all the gospels that were not incorporated
into the canon, (a) were earlier than the gospels that were included in the
canon, and (b) portray a more human Jesus, is just absurd. Reading those texts,
it is often hard to recognize the Jesus they portray as remotely human. In fact,
there were gnostic teachers who argued that Jesus was so pure and perfect that
he didn't go to the bathroom. The Synoptic gospels we have in the canon
(Matthew, Luke, and especially Mark) do a darned fine job of portraying a very
human Jesus.
• And while he's busy
touting the divine feminine, his one female character—who's supposed to be
a great cryptographer, by the way—is pretty stupid and helpless through
the whole thing, and her main purpose seems to be being reunited with her family
and falling in love with the hero (who completely forgets about the other love
of his life somewhere along the way). So much for the divine
feminine.
• The discussion of phi was
interesting. It makes me want a widescreen PowerBook. (The 1024 x 768 of my
12-inch PowerBook is only 1-1/3:1. The widescreen models are both 1.6:1, much
closer to the Divine Proportion.)
So
here's the thing. It seems to me that there are two threads that the author is
trying to weave together, here. One is the Grail-Magdalene-Merovingian legend,
and the other is the importance of the divine feminine. I actually think that
those two themes work at cross purposes (no pun intended). He tries to argue
that the church suppressed evidence of Jesus' humanity, including his marriage
to Mary Magdalene—and he ends up turning Mary Magdalene into a Goddess.
And, as I discussed before, he subverts Mary's spiritual authority by suggesting
that her only claim to authority was as a wife and mother. I am sympathetic to
the need to reclaim a sense of the divine feminine, as well as a more inclusive
attitude to the role of women in religious life (but no, not a return to the
hieros gamos, except insofar as an actual marriage can be holy, which I think is
significant). But I think Brown errs in yoking that agenda to the Grail
theory.
Posted: Thu - May 11, 2006 at 05:58 PM