On Biblioblogging, Part Four: How Biblioblogging is Like a Mel Brooks Movie

Note: Over past few days, I have been posting a series of thoughts on biblioblogging and New Media. I have become more active as a blogger over the last year, and thought that some of my regular readers would like to know why I consider myself a biblioblogger, and what it means to operate a biblioblog. For my working definition of a biblioblog, see Part One: A Definition. For a list of reasons biblioblogging can be a useful tool to the student and scholar alike, see Part Two: Advantages. For a list of drawbacks to biblioblogging, see Part Three: Disadvantages.

“The Gospel of Jesus’s Wife” (R.I.P.)

One of the most pertinent recent examples of the usefulness of biblioblogging to scholarly communication as a form of New Media is the case of the so-called Gospel of Jesus’s Wife papyrus fragment. The fragment, which features Coptic text that includes the phrase, “Jesus said to them, ‘My wife…’” was revealed to the online world on September 17, 2012 by Dr. Karen King, Professor of Ecclesial History at Harvard Divinity School. Along with the photograph and text of the papyrus fragment, it was also revealed that King would be releasing a journal article on her analysis of the piece, to be published in January 2013 by The Harvard Theological Review. The discovery caused quite a stir among major cable news outlets, who in turn erroneously reported that “solid evidence” of Jesus’ marital status had been unearthed! A sensationally titillating story, to be sure.

By the next day, however, the blogosphere was already hard at work scrutinizing and sharing the little knowledge that was available to the public. Dozens of scholarly biblioblogs referenced the find, dialoguing, referencing, cross-referencing, and debating on the authenticity of the fragment and its implications for the world of biblical studies. Upon closer inspection, several academic bloggers—descending upon the find like a school of highly educated piranha—confidently declared the fragment a modern forgery.[1] Within the space of two weeks, the breaking news of the Gospel of Jesus’s Wife fragment went from being an international media sensation to getting tossed on the junk pile as another over-hyped academic dud. Within a month, Jesus’s wife (may she rest in peace) was all but dead and buried. As of the posting of this blog in mid-April 2013, The Harvard Theological Review has yet to publish Dr. King’s article.

What is most remarkable about this whole spectacle is not only the astounding speed with which the fragment was addressed by a community of King’s peers, but also the efficiency with which scholarly dialogue was facilitated by use of the online medium of blogging. While I am firmly convinced that biblioblogging will by no means take the place of rigorous academic peer review and publication, it has nonetheless captured the attention of the greater academic community and given pause to those who might dismiss blogging as an inferior mode of scholarly discourse. In less time than it would normally take for one scholar to write, edit, submit, and publish a peer-reviewed article, a large community of corresponding bibliobloggers could quite possibly render the very subject of his or her study completely obsolete.

Conclusion, or How Biblioblogging is Like a Mel Brooks Movie

Perhaps a good illustration of the speed and efficiency with which biblioblogging catalyzes academic ideas is this very series of posts, which has utilized the writings of fellow academic bloggers to illustrate biblioblogging’s place within the culture of New Media. With relatively few published scholarly articles available on the subject (though the number is growing, even as I type these words), the most reliable data is currently found in the field itself, especially in the work of metablogs such as The Biblioblog Reference Library (currently under construction), which tracks and documents data pertaining to registered biblioblog traffic. The speed and accessibility of information that have facilitated biblioblogging as a legitimate scholarly exchange have nearly erased the typical waiting time that used to be the norm for academic progress. In a way, what biblioblogging does for the New Media might be compared to a famous scene from the Mel Brooks comedy, Spaceballs. Near the climax of the movie, the villainous character Dark Helmet—a parody on Darth Vader—attempts to locate the whereabouts of the hero of the film by watching a straight-to-video version of the movie itself, even while it is still in the process of being made. While fast-forwarding through the first half of the picture, Helmet pushes ‘play’ only to find himself watching the very scene he is currently acting in. He raises his arm and waves at the camera, and precisely at the same time, the Dark Helmet on the screen raises his arm and waves, too. This ultimately leads to confusion, and a frenzied series of questions culminating with the villain asking emphatically, “When will then be now?” If biblioblogging has any lasting effect at all on the intersection of theological scholarship and New Media, the answer is most assuredly “Sooner than you think.”

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[1] Most notably Francis Watson at Durham University, who determined that a mistake in an online translation of the Gospel of Thomas was reproduced in the text of the Jesus’s Wife fragment. See Francis Watson, “The Gospel of Jesus’ Wife: How a fake Gospel-Fragment was composed.” Sept. 20, 2012. http://markgoodacre.org/Watson.pdf

More Thoughts on the Gospel of Jesus's Wife

A lot can happen in a week.

Last Thursday, I posted a few words on the recent "discovery" of a Coptic papyrus fragment (erroneously dubbed "The Gospel of Jesus's Wife") which purportedly suggests that Jesus of Nazareth was hitched, most likely to Mary the Magdalene.

Since then, I have received several comments on my opinions presented in my last post. Most of those comments have suggested that my previous post lacked one of the primary objections that many people have against the idea of a married Jesus: that is, the notion of sexuality's inherent "dirtiness." How could Jesus have participated in a sexual relationship and yet remained sinless? This is a question for more advanced theologians than myself, but it is duly noted and certainly worthy of consideration. However, I would caution against applying Augustinian sexual ethics to first century Jewish practice. In short, if Jesus was married, it would have been nothing out of the ordinary for him to have engaged in sexual intercourse—in fact, custom would have demanded it for the sake of the continuance of the Jewish people. He would simply have been fulfilling his role as a good husband and a loyal Jew.

In addition to these comments, there have been further developments in the whole discovery saga. A recent post by Craig Evans on the biblioblog Near Emmaus has reported that the Harvard Theological Review has opted not to publish Dr. Karen King's paper on the fragment, presumably amid increasing debate regarding the artifact's authenticity.

I need to reiterate here that I am no papyrologist, nor even a textual critic. My experience in this field is extremely limited. However, that being said, I believe that it is possible for the careful observer to note some physical characteristics of the artifact that might serve as cause for suspicion, or at the very least extreme caution in making any definitive claim regarding the authenticity of the piece. Among the fragment's most notable critics is Francis Watson, Professor of New Testament at Durham University. A few of the objections to the artifact's authenticity listed below have been gleaned from several recent essays by Watson, all of which can be found via Mark Goodacre's blog here.

1. Note the nearly perfect rectangular shape of the fragment. This is unusual—papyri rarely deteriorate in pristine angles. The fragmentation of various samplings of the Oxyrhynchus Papyri or Chester Beatty Papyri (to name a couple of the most well-known ancient papyri sources) indicates that papyrus tends to crumble and tear and develop holes in odd places, possibly due to the initial process used to produce the material. While it is certainly not unusual for whole pages of papyri to remain intact, the shape of fragments is another matter.

2. The calligraphy is shoddily done. Like other writing materials in the ancient world (such as parchment or vellum), manuscript papyrus was not given to any old amateur calligrapher to doodle on. The scribes who painstakingly copied texts took great care in their work. The fragment in question looks as if it were written by a fifth grader with a cheap watercolor brush. Furthermore, it is interesting to note that the word tazime, or tahime, which has been translated as "my wife" or "my woman," is instantly recognizable, as it is suspiciously bolded.

3. If one looks closely at the edges of the fragment, as well as the leading and kerning of the text itself, it appears that the text was written on the papyrus after the papyrus was already a fragment. In other words, the text seems crammed into this small piece of material, with very few of the words being sacrificed in the split. In fact, the last couple lines appear to end with the contour of the piece itself. If a papyrus fragment that was part of a larger page of text was to be ripped, it seems unlikely that at least one or two lines would remain uninterrupted by the tear.

4. To my knowledge, the German collector who gave the fragment to Dr. King remains anonymous.

5. Finally, perhaps the most damning evidence of the fragment's forgery is that it appears to be an amalgam of numerous phrases or sentences from the Gospel of Thomas. Further information on this problem can be found among Watson's essays and Craig Evans's recent post on the subject.

Every year, it seems that we are bombarded with new and fantastical information by the media: some new "discovery" of a "Lost Gospel" or a reported "Family Tomb of Jesus" ekes its way into the public forum, and battle lines are quickly drawn between those who are all aboard with the find (who are perceived as exciting and progressive) and those who either require more information to make a solid decision or remain skeptical of the whole thing altogether. The latter are often perceived or portrayed in the media as being traditionalists who cling to outdated beliefs, who let their personal faith or dogma impede their judgment. However, it remains incredibly essential that scholars look upon such sensational claims with a keen, suspicious eye and a level head. It is not a matter of disregarding new information because it conflicts with tradition. It is simply a matter of practicing good scholarship.

A Brief Word on the So-Called "Gospel of Jesus's Wife"

In case you haven't already heard, there has been quite a hullabaloo the last few days over a new fourth-century Coptic papyri fragment which has come to be known as the "Gospel of Jesus's Wife." The fragment was presented to Harvard Divinity professor Karen King last year by an anonymous German collector, and King has since analyzed the piece and drafted a forthcoming article on its examination that is due out early next year. The papyrus, which suggests that Jesus may have been married (see Line 4 below), contains the following text:

Line 1: "...not [to] me. My mother gave me li[fe]..."

Line 2: The disciples said to Jesus, ...

Line 3: ...deny. Mary is worthy of it...

Line 4: Then Jesus said, "My wife...

Line 5: ...she will be able to be my disciple...

Line 6: Let wicked people swell up...

Line 7: ...as for me, I dwell with her in order to...

Line 8: an image

There are many reasons that traditional churchgoers might balk at the notion of Jesus being involved in a marital relationship. One implication of such a claim is grounded in the knowledge that in first-century Palestine (as well as most elsewhere in the ancient world), the institution of marriage was designed to facilitate the continuation of the family line, and therefore of the whole Jewish people. Marriage was a way of surviving exile by procreation. If Jesus were to be married, many critics say, then it would most likely mean that he had a child, which would be problematically suggesting that Jesus had a continuing family line. What should these people then do with his heirs? Worship them? That's a question fit only for Sir Leigh Teabing, and isn't really one that I care to try to answer. 

However, my hunch is that the problem most people have with Jesus as a married man is that at its core, marriage implies a sharing of power. We typically like to think of Jesus of Nazareth as a lone mysterious figure, traveling the Galilean and Judean landscapes, performing miracles and giving moral teachings while the twelve disciples struggle to keep up with all he is saying and doing. To think that Jesus may have had a wife who shared in some of his most intimate moments of doubt and pain, or indeed in the very development of his moral and cosmological worldview, is for some people quite challenging. Many just don't want to imagine a Jesus who would share his power with another human being.

To be blunt, I don't really care whether Jesus was married. I think it would be fascinating if he did indeed have an intimate human partner—it might make him somehow appear more relatable, in an earthly kind of way  (As Stephen Colbert recently remarked, "Mr. and Mrs. Jesus and Helen Christ. The Christs!"). From what we can glean from the canonical New Testament, however, it appears that Jesus was an apocalyptic prophet who stressed that the world was soon going to end. While he recognized the created order of marriage (see Mark 10:6-9, Matthew 19:3-6), he taught so much about the imminent breaking-in of the Reign of God (in which there would be no marriage—see Matthew 22:23-33), it seems unlikely that he would marry—his mission regarding the coming reign superseded his obligation to continue his own family line. Indeed, in the four canonical Gospels, it appears that Jesus's idea of family was much more radical—that is, we are all sisters and brothers of Jesus and children of the living Creator God.

The bottom line is that this discovery doesn't change much. It's a fourth-century fragment of an Egyptian papyrus of which we know very little. Without the rest of the manuscript, the most it can possibly tell us is that more than 250 years after Jesus lived, people were beginning to speculate on different aspects of his life and ministry. At this point, we can only watch and wait for King's paper to be published and see how this discovery develops. It may be that there is indeed a second-century Greek text on which this Coptic papyrus is based, hiding out in a jar in a cave somewhere like the Dead Sea Scrolls, or buried in a bundle in the Egyptian desert like the Nag Hammadi Library. It could, ultimately, be proven to be a forgery. Or it may just fizzle its way out of the public eye into archival obscurity, just as the Gospels of Judas, Mary, Philip, and countless other "sensational" gnostic texts have done. 

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For more information on the "Gospel of Jesus's Wife," see the following:

• BiblePlaces Blog: "Somebody Once Believed Jesus Had a Wife" (Todd Bolen)
• Evangelical Textual Criticism: "Gospel of Jesus's Wife (Updated)" (Christian Askeland)
• Evangelical Textual Criticism: "Yet Another Question About the So-Called Gospel of Jesus's Wife" (Dirk Jongkind)

• Forbidden Gospels: "Did Jesus Have a Wife?" (April DeConick)
• "The Gospel of Jesus' Wife: How a Fake Gospel Fragment Was Composed," by Francis Watson
• "Jesus said to them, 'My wife...'" A New Coptic Gospel Fragment, by Karen L. King

• Larry Hurtado's Blog: "'The Gospel of Jesus' Wife'...Maybe...Maybe Not" (Larry Hurtado)
• Larry Hurtado's Blog: "'Jesus' Wife' Fragment: Further Thoughts" (Larry Hurtado) 

• Near Emmaus: "The 'Wife' of Jesus? Some Comments by Craig A. Evans" (Craig Evans)

• NTBlog: "The Gospel of Jesus' Wife" (Mark Goodacre)
• NTBlog: "The Gospel of Jesus' Wife: The Story Is Moving Fast!" (Mark Goodacre)