Throbert McGee

Just in time for Xmas, here's a repost of a little essay I wrote a couple years ago, in which I cobbled together a biography of Jesus out of the New Testament Gospels and early Christian pseudo-Gospels, and then analyzed the results as though it were a sci-fi/fantasy/horror story. The weird thing is, I think there's a more coherent and uplifting moral in my sci-fi version than in the standard Christian account. Enjoy!


Well-read Protestants know that the Roman Catholic version of the Bible is 14 books longer than the editions that all those schismatic Christians use. These 14 books, which the RCC takes to be part of the canonical Old Testament, are collectively termed The Apocrypha. (One of the best-known of these Apocryphal works is the Book of Judith, whose deadly she-mantis stunt with poor old Holofernes would inspire countless Western painters, including Gustav "Your wife was just showing us her..." Klimt.)

Anyway, there's a whole 'nother set of Apocryphal books -- those that even the Catholic Church rejects as authentic. Some of these works are disqualified from the Canon because textual and manuscript evidence proves that they were written many hundreds of years after the time when the Son of God allegedly beamed down to Earth and became flesh. Others, like the two Gospels of the Infancy, were ruled out because -- well, they seem so weird.

For instance, the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy of the Saviour has an account of a guy who got turned into a mule by a wicked witch, until Mary and Jesus come truckin' up and change him back. And Thomas the Israelite's account of Jesus's childhood makes the kid sound like one of the extraterrestrial changelings from The Village of the Damned!

It's no wonder, then, that Christians don't accept these ''Infancy Gospels'' as authentically inspired. But in a way, that's too bad -- because on a closer reading, it becomes evident why anonymous writers of the early Church felt it necessary to flesh out the missing years of Jesus' biography in the New Testament. In fact, the authors of these Apocryphal works showed such remarkable insight into the human condition that if I weren't an atheist, I'd be inclined to accept these books (in conjunction with the four canonical Gospels) as divinely inspired. But don't take my word for it; here, judge for yourself...

Okay, let's put JC's life story in rough sequence, based on New Testament and those Apocryphal accounts:

1. He's a totally adorable baby whom people shower with presents (Matt. 2:11) and whose used diapers even have magical healing powers! (Arab. Ch. 11)

2. When he's a little older, we get to see Li'l Jesus® hanging out with Muppet Babies versions of his future Apostles and other Gospel characters, like Li'l Judas™ and Li'l Simon the Canaanite™. (Arab. Ch. 35) Unfortunately, Li'l Jesus has turned into a complete shit and goes around putting the hoodoo on people for the most trivial offenses, like when a Li'l Pharisee stomps on this clay fish-pond that Jesus made as an Arts 'n' Crafts project. (Thom. Lat. Ch. 4) Plus, he sasses back to his teacher, and then promptly makes the poor man shrivel up and die when the dude tries to apply a little discipline. Joseph, ever the sharp one, comments to Mary, "Do not let him go outside of the door, because those that make him angry die" (Thom. Gk 1. Ch. 14), thereby revealing this to be a very early draft of that Twilight Zone story about the kid who would wish people into the cornfield. But when his mom and dad call him on it, he finally relents and undoes all his dark magic (Thom. Lat. Ch. 6), which is almost exactly what happens in Joe Dante's happy-ending remake of "It's a Good Life" in the 1983 movie version!

3. Later, he's nicer to the teachers (even though they're confused by this gifted-track student), but a bit sassy to his parents when they come a-lookin' for him (Luke 2:43-49)

4. Fast-forward a few years, and he's using his powers for fun things like turning water into wine for the wedding at Cana. He's rude to Mary again, though. (John 2:1-11)

5. The guy just gets nicer and nicer, healing people left and right and interceding when some folks are about to throw rocks at a hooker (John 8 3:7). He still slips up now and then, however, as when he utters a racist slur to a Syrophoenician woman who wants him to help her. Rather than acting all put-upon, though, she snaps back with a bit of wordplay, and Jesus is so impressed at her insight and faith that he sends some good magic her way after all (Mark 7:25-30)

6. Jesus cashes in the last of his magic to help other people even though this particular spell requires the loss of his own life (Luke 23:37), and -- unlike the little boy who thoughtlessly zapped his playmates if they so much as looked at him funny -- he's a total mensch about it at age 33. The guy even has the class to say "Forgive them, father, they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34), as well he should, since he himself used to screw up back when he didn't know any better.

In other words, when the canonical and apocryphal Gospels are taken together, the entire life of Jesus becomes an allegory about the importance of developing moral wisdom: for even the incarnation of God Himself behaved like a monster when he was too immature to know better. The take-home message, then, is: "Everyone, let's all learn to grow the fuck up and always use our God-given talents to make other people's lives better, not worse, Amen."

Amen.

Toto

Hm - this idea seems to be common.

Interview with Jack Black