The Gospel of Mary 4.1–4; 5.4–8; 10.7–12 (NNT)
The Blessed One . . . said . . . “Beware that no one lead you astray saying, ‘Look over here!’ Or ‘Look over there!’ For the Child of Humanity is within you. . . .” Mary . . . said, . . . “Let us praise his greatness, for he has prepared us and made us Humans. . . .” Levi . . . said, . . . “We should clothe ourselves with the perfect Human, acquire it for ourselves as he commanded us, and proclaim the good news. . . .” [1]
Julian of Norwich
We are not just made by God, we are made of God.
Both discussion sources today are unusual, not only because they are feminine voices, tragically underrepresented in scripture. Their thoughts also remind us that Christianity has never been monolithic. The Gospel of Mary and other extra-biblical texts, including the 14th Century Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich, remind us that from the beginning, there were a multitude of ways to consider the teachings and ministry of Jesus Christ.
The most important debate was (and is, to a certain extent) about his humanity. Just how human was Jesus? Was he human at all, or was he some god-spirit in temporary fleshly form? Was Jesus’ humanity different from ours, meaning all the things he did were exclusive to him, or was Jesus an example of how all humans should act, who teaches us how to be exactly like him?
The discovery of ancient, extra-biblical texts at Nag Hammadi, Egypt, returned to the world scripture written by people, including women, who rejected the idea that the purpose of Jesus’ life was merely to die on the cross. Instead, they saw Jesus as a wisdom teacher, a prophet, a revealer of deep, mystical truth. A very simple truth, echoed by Julian of Norwich 1300 years later: We are made of God.
Just like Jesus.
Read in conjunction with the existing Second Testament canon, the Nag Hammadi Scriptures add much-needed depth and historical color to the narrative of Jesus Christ. In these texts, we see the mash-up of Jewish and Greek thinking that made Christianity distinct from Judaism. And if we understand the Hellenization of Jewish thinking, we begin to develop a more authentic picture of Jesus, the divinely human teacher.
By the early part of the First Century, CE, when both the New Testament and the copious number of texts that would be unceremoniously excluded from it were being created, no civilization in the ancient world was devoid of influence from the dominance of Greek culture.
Even though Greece had shed its superpower status long before, Rome was Greece on steroids. As a Republic, Rome flat-out copied Greek art, civics, and politics. As an empire, Rome planted Greek philosophy, politics, education, and religion around the world. They were so successful that most countries today still follow the standards the Greeks created, and the Romans evangelized.
We still educate based on Greek principles and philosophies, notably those of Aristotle.
And it’s Aristotle who is mainly responsible for the way the author of The Gospel of Mary and Julian of Norwich thought.
The one philosopher everyone in the world can name is important because long before Jesus, he taught that for a human being to be happy, and for humans to create a happy society, they must live virtuously.
Aristotle imagined a perfect human he called the virtuous ideal (sometimes referred to as a regulative ideal). This person always does the right thing. And the right thing is the thing that makes you happy, and the only thing that makes you happy—truly happy—is doing what’s best for your neighbor.
For Aristotle, the point of being human was for every individual to find happiness. And happiness was only discovered by being virtuous—helping the poor, serving the community, living morally. Being righteous.
It’s easy for us to see Aristotle in Jesus.
It would have been second nature—perhaps even subconscious by then—for Jesus’ followers to think of him as Aristotle’s virtuous, regulative ideal. Whether they had been formally educated or not, the idea had been around for nearly 400 years.
Consequently, when The Gospel of Mary was written, it’s the humanity of Jesus that’s essential to his being. Jesus is not more than human, and he’s certainly not supernatural. Instead, he’s a better human, a perfect human. The perfect human.
Aristotle’s virtuous ideal obviously influences this concept.
Aristotle urged humans to act virtuously on their own. For him, it was reasonable to expect that people would work in the best interests of the community because a better community meant a better life for the individual as well.
Ah, Aristotle, you sweet, crazy idealist! We know all too well, that doesn’t happen. People are too often selfish and fearful and generally egocentric. So, one of Christianity’s innovations, which could only occur after five centuries of philosophical intermingling, is a Jewish, Greco-Roman mash-up about being better humans by recognizing each other as foundationally divine.
Take one-part Judaism: We obviously can’t be the virtuous ideal without help, so we turn to God, as God’s people. Add one-part Hellenism: Every individual should live a virtuous life for the benefit of the community. And the sum is Christianity: Jesus is the fulfillment of the virtuous ideal.
The canonical gospels don’t argue this point. In fact, they warp the First Testament to make sure it’s all about Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s ideal.
But the orthodox interpretation of Jesus is as a sacrifice to cleanse us of our humanity. The alternative, presented in hundreds of pages of apocryphal texts, is that our humanity is nothing to be ashamed of—in fact, it’s only by becomingideally human that we finally achieve happiness—not just for ourselves, but also for our entire community.
To be ideally human, we need only follow Jesus and learn how to tune into God the way he did. That’s our work as his students. Even knowing it is unlikely we will ever achieve his level of perfect Oneness, it is still our work—our duty to humanity—to become so in tune with God that, like Jesus, we are indistinguishable.
Our task is to clothe ourselves in humanity. God sees beauty in us. I have to think God wants us to see the beauty in ourselves as well. Indeed, The Gospel of Mary wants us to consider that the love of God that so motivated Jesus is also within us. God’s love is us.
And perhaps to start genuinely believing that we need to begin first living it by getting up every morning and clothing ourselves in the divine humanity of Jesus Christ.
Amen.
[1] Taussig, Hal. A New New Testament: A Bible for the Twenty-first Century Combining Traditional and Newly Discovered Texts (p. 217). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition.
Art: “In His Image” by William Zdinak, https://www.catholic-collectibles.com/81-860.html
