CC37: More on Harpur's "Pagan Christ"

I'm still feeling grumpy about Tom Harpur's suggestions for Christians who want to find "the only way ahead," so I'm going to talk some more about that. 

"Four things on earth are small, yet they are exceedingly wise: the ants are a people without strength, yet they provide their food in summer; the badgers are a people without power, yet they make their homes in the rocks; the locusts have no king, yet all of them march in rank; the spider can be grasped in the hand, yet it is found in kings' palaces" (Proverbs 30: 24-28). You don't have to choose between mystery and science. Jesus understood this, as did Job before him. The back of the moon wasn't visible until the space program revealed it. But seeing the moon through the eyes of science hasn't lessened the sense of wonder and awe we feel when her silvery beauty gleams. Photo credit JAT 2021.

Early on in this blog, I stated -- in bold letters, no less -- that I am NOT a Gnostic (March 6, 2010: Some Reference Books I Read & Recommend). Even though I'm a practising mystic, and even though I believe in a number of things that can't be seen by the human eye (so sue me -- even radio waves can't be seen by the human eye), this doesn't make me a Gnostic. It's only sloppy thinkers who haven't done their homework on Gnosticisms would insist on calling me a Gnostic. (Note here that I've used the plural form of Gnosticism because careful researchers know there's no such thing as one single historical form of Gnosticism any more than there's one single historical form of Christianity or one single historical form of Judaism.)

In order for a person to be included under the umbrella term of Gnosticism, he or she has to hold certain beliefs about the nature of humanity's relationship with God. Central to all Gnosticisms is the idea that the soul is a tiny piece of God's essence that is trying to find its way back to God. Immortal souls end up in mortal bodies, but this isn't really a good thing, according to Gnostics, because our physical bodies drag the soul down into a "prison" of matter. The spiritual task of Gnostics is to recognize the spark of God/Christ/Divine that exists within, and to go about freeing that spark by raising their consciousness to a higher level. The method is to seek "wisdom" and hidden knowledge (gnosis in Greek). This knowledge leads to transcendence.

If this sounds a lot like Plato's teachings about the soul's journey, it's because Plato's teachings and later Gnostic teachings have a lot in common. Most orthodox Western Christian scholars don't want to admit it, but these teachings also strongly influenced the apostle Paul. The famous passage about life after death in Chapter 15 of First Corinthians is a fascinating blend of Jewish apocalyptic thought (future resurrection) and Platonic thought (incorruptibility of the divine): "flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed." (Cue Handel's Messiah.)

Tom Harpur is quite up-front about the fact that he admires Gnostic thinking. On page 175 of The Pagan Christ, he says, "What's really important is that Paul's spiritual view of Christ (his Christology) and Gnostic Christianity held the early Christian movement up to a truly high standard of intellectual and philosophical excellence."

Bear in mind that Harpur himself doesn't believe there ever was an actual man named Jesus Christ who lived in1st century CE Palestine. He believes the gospel stories about Jesus should be read typologically, not literally. He believes the story of Jesus is pure symbol. An important symbol, but a symbol nonetheless. A myth, not a fact.

In fact, Harpur believes that all Scripture should only be read symbolically, not literally or historically. For Harpur, "the enigma of the Bible has been largely solved. Dark passages, cryptic narratives or events -- all have been shot through with a new, though long-lost, light because of this awareness that the key to all Scripture is to be found in the doctrine of Incarnation (page 181)."*

And what is the long-lost light that Harpur sees in this symbolic reading of Scripture? Why, it's the ancient wisdom of the Egyptian mystery cults!

Here's where I have a really big problem with Harpur's thesis. He recommends without reservation that Christianity of the third millennium reclaim "the wisdom expounded by the Egyptians, the Orphics, the Pythagoreans and Plato, as well as by St. Paul, the Gnostics, Clement of Alexandria, Origen, and a host of others . . . (page 191)." (Can't argue with the historical links that existed among these groups, although I would have added Manicheans and Albigensians.) He thinks the choice to reclaim this long-lost light will arm us "with the moral and intellectual courage to live our lives to the fullest for the advancement of all . . . (page 193)."

Me, I think such a course of action will demolish whatever moral and intellectual courage Christians have. 

Shown here is part of 19th century building at York Redoubt near Halifax, NS. According to Gnostics of all traditions, this is what you look like: old, ugly, stained, and walled off eternally from God unless you accept the cult teachings that will grant you "escape." Naturally, for the price of your human obedience, worship, and financial contributions, Gnostics will be happy to sell you the secret knowledge that blasts open the door to ascendance. Photo credit JAT 2021.

Why do I think this? I think this because I've lived through the devastating effects of ancient mystery teachings on the human brain, and although I've fully recovered from the effects of my Big Fat Idiot Stage, I'm alarmed when I see reputable scholars using their positions of authority to urge dangerous spiritual practices on vulnerable, less well educated people.

It's irresponsible, and there's no excuse for it.

Harpur is advocating a return to what is indisputably a cult psychology based on status addiction. He's kidding himself if he thinks the leaders of these ancient cults were nice people who truly found divine wisdom and willingly shared it with all people. Pythagoras (of whom Harpur seems fond) founded a sectarian cult with strict rules where only a small group of chosen disciples were initiated into the secret knowledge and rituals. (That's status addiction!) Hellenic mystery cults such as the Orphic mysteries and the Eleusinian mysteries engaged in bizarre, ritualistic, occult practices that most people would find abhorrent today. Addiction issues and sexual misconduct were rampant in these cults. Later, especially in the Eastern Roman Empire, Christian monks, nuns, contemplatives, and mystics separated themselves from regular communities and engaged in self-harming ascetic practices so they could "imitate Christ" and be "closer to God." (Again, status addiction.) Needless to say, addiction issues, sexual misconduct, and other forms of abuse continued to take place in monastic communities and continued to be blamed on evil forces such as demons, incubi, and the devil.

Is this what Harpur wants? Because this is what he's going to get if he naively places these ancient mystery cults on a pedestal. Where he sees a "long-lost light" in these ancient teachings, I see only a "darkness of abuse" we're well rid of.

As for Harpur's claim that he wants to help bring science and religion closer together and "highlight Nature's guiding role" in a renewed Christian faith, I just want to choke. There is no hard science in his book, but there are lots of superficial cliches and lots of references to the spiritual symbols seen in Nature. When Harpur says, "I never see the moon without being reminded of its reflecting the solar glory and its monthly telling of the story of our incarnation and ultimate resurrection (page 188)," I gotta say that don't impress me much. (Cue the Shania Twain song.)

There's tons of light and wonder and goodness and love in the natural world -- the scientific world -- that God the Mother and God the Father have created for us. But we won't find it by looking backwards to the mystery cult teachings of people who believed in a status-ridden journey of spiritual ascent, and we won't find it by pretending that all Scripture is "good" if only we understood how to read it symbolically! Christianity has been there and done that. It doesn't work.

The only forward for the Church, as I see it, is for us to come at spirituality from a whole new angle. We have to let go of "traditional teachings" and "infallible doctrines" that don't line up with new findings in neuroscience, quantum physics, quantum biology, astronomy, and so on. Other fields of endeavour have had to let go of cherished beliefs that eventually proved false. Why should Christianity be any different?

Does it make sense to you that God would make special rules for the Church that hold us to a LOWER standard of scholarship than the standard observed by secular researchers in fields such as teaching, environmental science, or psychiatry?

Maybe it's our unwarranted sense of entitlement -- not the devil -- that's the source of our ongoing problems in the Church.

I think I'll sign off now and go read Discover magazine's latest special issue on The Brain. Although I don't always agree with the scientific conclusions I find there, there's plenty of good food for thought, and I'm grateful for that.

Happy Thanksgiving!



* In his glossary, Harpur defines "incarnation" as "the God within each of us -- the 'Light which lighteth every person coming into the world.'"

CC36: No Room in the Inn . . . or on the Spiral Path

I was reminded again today how much the spiritual journey for human beings can be likened to a spiral path.

Well, maybe less a spiral, and more a helix. Like a Slinky -- from one direction (end-on) it looks like a simple circle, yet from the side you can see it's actually a long, continuous, spiralling wire. Another good analogy is a DNA helix -- long, complex, and spiralling, with no two points exactly the same. Both the Slinky and the DNA helix capture the idea that the spiritual path can sometimes feel like a circle (as in "I seem to going round and round in circles"), yet a closer examination of your experiences from the side angle will reveal you've also made some forward progress.

But, you know, from a strictly artistic point of view it sucks to call the spiritual path "the helical path." Like, you can't even doodle a helix on a pad of paper and have it make any sense to somebody who doesn't know what a DNA helix is. But when you draw a spiral on a piece of paper, everybody can recognize the idea of going round and round in circles, while at the same time never being in precisely the same place. That's why the image of the spiral path has been used in many periods and in many places to represent the spiritual journey. Don't mess with a perfectly good symbol, I say. So I'm sticking with the image of "the spiral path." But really it feels more like a Slinky.

"For learning about wisdom and instruction, for understanding words of insight, for gaining instruction in wise dealing, righteousness, justice, and equity; to teach shrewdness to the simple, knowledge and prudence to the young -- let the wise also hear and gain in learning, and the discerning acquire skill, to understand a proverb and a figure, the words of the wise and their riddles. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction" (Proverbs 1: 2-7). Photo credit JAT 2025.

I got on this train of thought today because I suddenly decided to revisit Tom Harpur's book The Pagan Christ: Recovering the Lost Light (Toronto: Thomas Allen, 2004). I bought this book when it was first published because I'd been reading Tom Harpur's column on religion in the Toronto Star and I was curious to know more about his theories. The book was attracting a lot of attention from Progressive Christians in Canada because it seemed to offer a way out of the dangers of dogmatic, literalistic Christianity. It didn't hurt, either, that before Harpur turned to journalism, he'd been a professor of Greek and New Testament at the University of Toronto. The guy had credentials. He had credibility.

When I'm reading any book, no matter what the topic, I read at two levels. I pay attention with as much objectivity as I can to the flow of the factual argument -- what facts are being stated, what facts are being left out, what inconsistencies exist. But I also pay attention with my intuition, with my mystical side. Sometimes when I'm reading an alarm goes off in my intuitive circuitry, and I know there's something fundamentally wrong with the author's argument.

I may not know at a factual level what's wrong, but I've learned to trust the kernel of insight I receive from my mystical side. My task at this point is to accept the challenge of closing the gap between the factual reading and the intuitive reading -- to do more research on the factual side so I can understand in an objective, logical way why my "gut" is reacting to a particular author.

It often takes me years -- years! -- to do enough academic research to get to the point where I can close the gap between the factual reading and the intuitive reading of a book.

To give a specific example, it's taken me 6 years to close the gap between my factual reading of The Pagan Christ and my intuitive reading of The Pagan Christ. It's taken me 6 years on the spiral path of spiritual (and academic) learning to figure out why I was so incensed at an intuitive level when I first read Tom Harpur's book.

The information I needed didn't appear to me in the form of a "revelation," a "vision," or a "prophecy." I had to slog through sixteen half-courses in topics such as New Testament, Old Testament, early church history, and church liturgy, plus I had to research and write a long academic research paper (also called a short thesis or a cognate) on the topic of early doctrines of the soul. I had to work my ass off.

My goal in taking these courses wasn't to challenge Harpur's book. By the time I enrolled in graduate studies, I was focussed on other questions, other challenges, that occupied my time, energy, and enthusiasm. Nonetheless, with the hallmark unpredictability of all spiritual journeys, I accidentally discovered this morning that I now have the tools to challenge Harpur's thesis. The tools didn't come to me accidentally -- but the realization of what I could do with the tools kind of snuck up on me.

Somehow the spiral path has brought me back to a book, an author, and a thesis that has been quite influential in the past few years.

Just for the record, I'm NOT going to do an about-face, and I'm NOT going to claim that upon revisiting Harpur's book I've suddenly "seen the light" (pun intended). No way, Jose. To be ultra-clear, I don't agree with Harpur's thesis AT ALL -- in fact, I'm more incensed today with the ideas in his book than I was when I first read them in 2004. The difference between then and now is that I've moved forward on my spiral path. I've added to my knowledge. I've added to my experience. I've added to my healing. I've changed, learned, grown. Most of all, I've worked hard.

God helped me at every turn (and I could never have accomplished what I've accomplished without God's loving guidance), but the knowledge base I've built has come through conventional means -- such as university courses, academic journals, and interdisciplinary research. Even though I'm a mystic, I did not acquire this new knowledge through revelation. I had to use the brain God gave me. What's more, I had to use the free will God gave me. And I had to look after my body and my brain (i.e. choose a healthy lifestyle) so I could learn effectively. Just like any other person on Planet Earth. God did not make special rules for me.

Even though I'm a mystic, I have to follow the rules of healthy living and healthy learning that God wants everybody to respect. I'm able to communicate clearly with God the Mother and God the Father BECAUSE I use my free will to respect my body, my soul, my mind, and my heart in a balanced, holistic way. This life of balance lies at the core of the teachings of the man who once lived as Jesus son of Joseph.

I can't emphasize enough how radically different this claim is when compared to the claims of traditional, ascetic, cloistered Christian mystics.

Or when compared to the claims made by Tom Harpur in his book.

Near the end of The Pagan Christ, Harpur says:

"So [Alvin Boyd] Kuhn can argue that you and I, in a profound sense, are never going to be more "dead" than we are right at this moment. He says, 'Right now our deific souls are at the very bottom of the arc of death and can never be as dead again as they are now and have been.' As we live our lives here, immersed in matter, we are gaining experience and expanding consciousness. But we are, in a deep sense, alienated from, or 'dead' to, the spiritual realm whence we originally came and to which we shall one day return (page 192)."

All I can say to this is . . . speak for yourself.

CC14: Why I Think Jesus Was A Physician-Scholar

Among Progressive Christians in Canada these days there's a popular new trend in church reform. This is the "Jesus-is-obsolete" trend.

Well-known authors such as Gretta Vosper and Tom Harpur, along with less well known but influential biblical scholars such as William Arnal (plus my own New Testament professor), have concluded that even if we could figure out who the historical Jesus was with some degree of accuracy, it wouldn't matter to the church today. According to these authors, if Jesus has any remaining importance to us in the third millennium, it's only in a symbolic way. In other words, the symbol of Jesus is more important than the reality of Jesus. Our acceptance of this reality will help the church move forward, say these authors. Tom Harpur is so convinced of this that he no longer believes a real individual called Jesus of Nazareth even existed. For him, Jesus the Pagan Christ was an entirely fictitious character from the get-go.*

I guess you wouldn't be surprised to learn that I don't agree with these authors or my New Testament professor.

"He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, 'Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?' And they took offence at him. Then Jesus said to them, 'Prophets are not without honour, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.' And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. And he was amazed at their unbelief" (Mark 6: 1-6). Limestone ossuaries (bone boxes) such as the one shown here were used in Jewish burials in Palestine for a fairly limited period of time just before and after the start of the Common Era, so they’re a useful archeological tool for gathering information about Palestinian Jewish families from the late Second Temple period. This one, with a common motif of rosettes, was found in Jerusalem and is dated to the Herodian Period. (It’s on display at the Royal Ontario Museum. Photo credit JAT 2017.) If you want to know more about this topic, you can read my post called “Excavating James: The James Ossuary and the Talpiot Tomb."

 
On the other hand, I wouldn't dispute the level of confusion and disagreement among scholars of the historical Jesus. These are the researchers who use historical, archaeological, anthropological, and linguistic data to try to piece together the facts of Jesus' life -- things like his actual date of birth, his actual date of death, the identity of his family members. They're looking for information from verifiable sources outside the Bible to try to make sense of the conflicting biblical accounts of who Jesus was. This "Quest for the Historical Jesus" has been going on since the time of the Enlightenment, so it's not new. Albert Schweitzer was so frustrated by the whole process that he gave up on theology and went off to Africa to work as a doctor. (There's a certain irony in this, as I'll show.)

A couple of years ago I stumbled across a really cool website called "Historical Jesus Theories," put together by Peter Kirby (www.earlychristianwritings.com/theories.html). On the first page, you can see at a glance how much disagreement exists among scholars of the historical Jesus. You'll notice that some scholars have studied the "facts" about Jesus, and have concluded that Jesus is best described as "Jesus the Myth: Heavenly Christ." But don't stop yet! There are also eight more theories! There's the theory of Jesus the Myth: Man of the Indefinite Past -- Jesus the Hellenistic Hero -- Jesus the Revolutionary -- Jesus the Wisdom Sage (a popular one) -- Jesus the Man of the Spirit -- Jesus the Prophet of Social Change -- Jesus the Apocalyptic Prophet (also a popular one) -- and last but not least, Jesus the Saviour.

Wow. All these theories based on the facts, and not a single one that suggests Jesus was a physician-scholar. It's my own thesis that Jesus is best understood as a physician-scholar, so I can't suggest any books for you to read on this theory because as far as I can tell there aren't any books (apart from the one I'm writing).

I also think Jesus was a practising mystic alongside his role as a physician-scholar. (If you think I ruffled a few feathers in my theology classes with my theory that Jesus was a physician-scholar, you should have seen my Christology professor's eyes almost pop out of her head when I suggested in a class discussion that Jesus had been a mystic!)

I have to admit I'm somewhat puzzled about the resistance to the idea that Jesus was a physician-scholar. To be frank, this understanding of Jesus fits much better with historical and psychological realities than any of the other theories. It fits like a hand in a glove when you read the Gospel of Mark. When you read only what Mark says, and you try to completely ignore what the other gospels say, you have a story about a guy whose priorities are healing the sick, forgiving people, teaching people, spending lots of time with people (even when they make him slightly exasperated), and trusting God.

Right near the beginning of Mark, Jesus says, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners" (Mark 2:17). Today's commentators seem to want to interpret this allegorically: they say that Jesus wasn't actually a physician, but was more like a healer of the soul for those who had sinned. So when Jesus self-identifies with the role of medical practitioner, it's okay for Christians to ignore it. But when other people who don't even like or trust Jesus call him "the carpenter" in Mark 6:3, that's not allegorical -- that's factual! Jesus is a poor, illiterate carpenter! Jesus is a poor, illiterate, Jewish, Aramaic-speaking carpenter who probably couldn't speak Greek! Jesus is a poor, illiterate, uneducated, Aramaic-speaking carpenter from Galilee who obtained his amazing ability to engage in sophisticated debate with scribes and Pharisees because . . . well, because the Spirit had chosen him! And, to prove this fact, we can easily see that the history of Christianity has been similarly shaped only by men who imitated Jesus in his illiteracy; who were all were poor, uneducated tradespeople; fluent only in their local dialect; and unable to use the tools of rhetoric to argue their case except when the Spirit moved them! Yes! History and psychology prove that Jesus must be seen in this light! Why, all of Christianity's thinkers fit this model!

Don't they?

What . . . you mean you think that history and psychology prove the opposite -- that the great religious thinkers who've been remembered for centuries (regardless of their respective religious traditions) have -- to a person -- been highly educated and charismatic but emotionally humble? Like, oh, like maybe Gandhi. Or Martin Luther King, Jr. Or the Dalai Lama. These men are from our own era, yet it's pretty hard to imagine that any of them could have made a difference if they hadn't used their personal charisma and advanced education in service to the people they love(d).

Do we have to imagine that Jesus was a carpenter and only a carpenter? (Not that I have anything personal against carpenters. My own father is a tekton in every sense of the Koine Greek word, and has always spent his spare time building and repairing things in his workshop -- but my father is also one of the smartest people I know, and he earned a Master's degree in Chemical Engineering in the 1940's. The fact that he's an amateur carpenter doesn't negate his other training.)

There are many other clues in Mark that together build a portrait of Jesus as an educated physician-scholar. (I won't go into all of them in this post, or this post would end up as long as a book chapter.)

I've wondered from time to time whether today's scholars can't "see" Jesus in this light because they're thinking of "physicians" through their own hermeneutical lens. Let's face it -- modern Western medicine of the allopathic variety is not doing much these days to impress people with its compassionate bedside manner. This is especially true if you live in the United States, where health care decisions are increasingly being made by for-profit insurance companies. If your own personal experience has led you to equate physicians with cold-hearted, scientifically-based, profit-oriented medical care, then you're probably not going to be looking for Jesus to be a physician. In fact, you probably wouldn't want Jesus to be a physician, because then you wouldn't be able to relate to him anymore.

This is where it's important to step back and apply the criterion of "historical context" to Mark's picture of Jesus as a physician-scholar. Jesus lived in a time when healing and religion were intertwined in a way we don't fully relate to in this era of modern medicine. So when Jesus is quoted in Mark 2:17 as saying that sinners are in need of a physician, he means that both medically and religiously. Mark is giving readers the clue they needed in the first century CE to understand what claims he is making about Jesus' training and background. It would have been obvious to readers then that Mark's Jesus was a physician-scholar. It also would have shocked many pious people, because according to the "righteous" (who also make an appearance in Mark 2:17) only priests sanctioned by the Temple had the power and the right to heal the sick.

Mark's Jesus is a rogue healer. He doesn't follow any of the Laws when he does his healing, either Jewish laws or Greco-Roman laws. This is why I call Jesus a founding member of Doctors Without Borders. He put the suffering of the sick ahead of the Law.

Only those who've had a doctor fight for them or their loved ones against today's institutional medical bureaucracy and conventional scientific wisdom will understand the courage it took for Jesus to do this.

Thanks be to God.

*  For a scholarly update on some of the early non-biblical sources that talk about Jesus or imply his historical existence, please the article by Dr. Lawrence Mykytiuk called "Did Jesus Exist? Searching for Evidence Beyond the Bible" in the Jan/Feb 2015 issue of Biblical Archaeology Review. In an update to Dr. Mykytiuk's 2015 article, he provides extensive endnotes that didn't appear in the original BAR article. 

 For more on Jesus’ approach to healing, please see my post “Spit-Wives and Dead Goats.” For my introductory exegetical commentary on healings in the Gospel of Mark, please see "The Way, the Truth, and the Life."