The Magdalene Review

A primordial religious impulse

My weekend in New York with the scholars I mentioned in a post from last week went very well. We all (except Margaret Starbird, who was not present) contributed to a documentary film, which I will be happy to post about once some details are settled about what it will be called, etc. In the meantime, the experience has provided enough blogging material to keep me busy for months. I’d like to start by sharing a point that Elaine Pagels and I discussed briefly, but were unfortunately unable to flesh out because the moderator moved the topic to another area.

The discussion was about Kabbalah, the prevailing form of Jewish mysticism through the Middle Ages and beyond. It has origins that date back to the first century (probably not all the way back to the Patriarchs though as some would claim), but it really came into its own as a movement around the 11th century in the Jewish communities of Spain. Much could be said about Kabbalah, particularly because it has become a popular form of mysticism today, being liberally adapted by and for members of American society like every other religious system you can think of. The Kabbalistic concept in question is that of the Shekinah. I believe that what follows will show that one could spend a great deal of time exploring how the relationships between Gnosticism, Judaism, and orthodox Christianity affected the outcome of Mary Magdalene’s legends. In addition, I believe it speaks to the heart of the phenomenon we are currently observing in popular culture in which Mary Magdalene has become Jesus’ wife.

My primary source for this understanding is Gershom Scholem, who has written much on the history of Kabbalah. Of particular value is his book, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism.

In Rabbinic Judaism, the Shekinah is the “presence of God,” rather like his face, or his aspect. In the Middle Ages, however, the Shekinah was adapted by Kabbalists into a fully-fledged female hypostasis of God; she became a bride, a princess, a daughter. The traditional belief of the Shekinah was that it lived in exile with the people, that a part of God was always present with his people. When the Shekinah was personified, the part of God that lived in exile was believed to also be in exile; so we now have God’s bride, living in exile from himself, seeking reunion with him just as his people did. For as long as his people wandered, the bride wandered as well.

The next portion of this point is best said by Scholem himself. [Note: a sefirah is an individual unit in the Kabbalistic model of the Tree of Life, which represents the principles of creation. There are ten sefiroth, with the tenth sefira, Malkuth, being the lowest, and representing the physical world. This is a grossly simple explanation just to get to my main point.]

The tenth sefirah, however, no longer represents a particular part of man, but, as complement to the universally human and masculine principle, the feminine, seen at once as mother, as wife, and as daughter, though manifested in different ways in these different aspects. This discovery of a feminine element in God, which the Kabbalists tried to justify by gnostic exegesis, is of course one of the most significant steps they took. Often regarded with the utmost misgiving by strictly Rabbinical, non-Kabbalistic Jews, often distorted into inoffensiveness by embarrassed Kabbalistic apologists, this mythical conception of the feminine principle of the Shekhinah as providential guide of Creation achieved enormous popularity among the masses of the Jewish people, so showing that here the Kabbalists had uncovered one of the primordial religious impulses still latent in Judaism.

Two other symbolic representations among many are of particular importance for an understanding of the Kabbalistic Shekhinah: its identification on the one hand with the mystical Ecclesia of Israel and on the other hand with the soul (neshamah). Both these ideas make their appearance in the Bahir. In the Talmud and Midrash we find the concept of the “Community of Israel” (from which the Christian concept of the Ecclesia is derived), but only in the sense of a personification of the real, historical Israel and as such definitely differentiated from God. Since time immemorial the allegorical interpretation of the Song of Songs as referring tot he relationshiop between God and teh Jewish Ecclesia had enjoyed general acceptance in Judaism; but there was nothing in this interpretation to suggest the elevation of the Ecclesia to the rank of a divine potency or hypostasis. Nowhere does the Talmudic literature identify the Shekhinah with the Ecclesia. In the Kabbalah, however, it is precisely this identification that introduces the symbolism of the feminine into the sphere of the divine. Through this identification, everything that is said in the Talmudic interpretations of the Song of Songs about the Communtiy of Israel as daughter and bride was transferred to the Shekhinah.

Before going on, a word from Susan Haskins, from her book, Mary Magdalen: Myth and Metaphor:

It is perhaps no coincidence that this first pictorial representation of Mary Magdalen as one of the holy women should have as its literary counterpart the near-contemporary celebration of her as a myrrhophore by Hippolytus of Rome (c. 170-235), a bishop of Rome, heresiologist and a staunch defender of the faith for which he ultimately died. The description appeared in his commentary — the first such Christian exposition to come down to us — on the Canticle of Canticles, the ancient allegory ascribed to Solomon and his beloved, the Shulamite. To Hippolytus, the Bride, or Shulamite, as she sought the Bridegroom, was Mary Magdalen, the myrrhophore, seeking Christ in the garden to anoint him…

…Hippolytus’ association of teh Bride of the Canticles with Mary Magdalen, forged in the third century, has lasted until today: a verse from the Canticles forms part of the liturgy which commemorates the saint’s feast-day on 22 July…

…Hippolytus’ commentary established ideas about Mary Magdalen which were to become tradition. Perhaps the most important of these were to see her as the Bride of Christ and symbol of the Church, titles which became more usually associated with the Virgin Mary. The commentary’s effect has endured, however, leaving its trace in the erotic element which has always been part of the mystical relationship attributed to Christ and Mary Magdalen.

I hope I’m not the only one who is able to see the similarities here. Very early in Christian history, Mary Magdalene, like the Shekinah, was associated with the Ecclesia via the Song of Songs. This placed her in the position of “Bride of Christ,” throughout history interpreted in an allegorical way. In the later Middle Ages, Mary Magdalene came to be associated by Christian mystics with the individual in his or her search for union with God, bringing her into even closer association with the Shekinah. The parallels don’t stop there, but for now, my comparison does.

Today, the world is searching for reasons why Dan Brown’s book is such a literary phenomenon, but the popularity of the idea that Mary Magdalene is the lost bride of Jesus was gaining momentum even before DVC. In the early 1980′s, Holy Blood, Holy Grail caused quite a stir in suggesting that Jesus and Mary Magdalene had been married and started a bloodline. Although it was exposed as bunk, the idea sank into popular culture and spawned a number of related titles, most of which focused on the importance of a royal dyanastic, and godly, bloodline.

One book was different, however. Margaret Starbird’s book, Woman With the Alabaster Jar presented a case for Mary Magdalene not only as the wife of Jesus, but as a co-founder of Christianity, the “true” message of which was the restoration of the feminine and balance between sexes. Jesus and Mary Magdalene lived a life that expressed the “divine couple” archetype on every level of existence, Starbird writes; literal, spiritual, and archetypal. When Jesus was crucified, Mary Magdalene was in great danger, so she was spirited away. She traveled to France and gave birth, and from there, the rest of the French legends are taken pretty much at face value. The crucial thing about Starbird’s vision of history isn’t that Jesus and Mary Magdalene started a bloodline, however, it is on Mary Magdalene’s role as the feminine face of God. Jesus and Mary Magdalene together made a balanced and whole unit, masculine and feminine, “imaging God as partners.” That Mary Magdalene and the “true” Christian message were suppressed by the orthodox Church was to leave a deep scar on Christianity as it survived, and it touched every part of the Christian legacy. Thus the problems that Christianity and Western civilization in general face today are somehow the result of the imbalance caused by Mary Magdalene’s loss.

The language Starbird uses to describe her vision is quite potent and emotionally compelling for many people. The crux of DVC rests on concepts forged by Starbird; that the divine feminine lived in Mary Magdalene, and that her absence is the greatest conspiracy and tragedy ever to befall mankind. These ideas, I believe, are at the heart of what makes DVC such a revelation for some people. Not only because they are wondering, “could it be true?” but also because, I believe, Margaret Starbird happens to have stumbled across “one of the primordial religious impulses still latent,” only this time, in Christianity. In 2002, I delivered a talk to a local Seattle group called “Brides in Exile: A Primordial Religious Impulse Latent in Western Civilization,” which argued this very point. Four years later, the reaction to DVC has driven home for me the reality of Starbird’s intuition, whether I agree with her history or not.

What we are seeing today with the fascination in Mary Magdalene as Jesus’ bride is much deeper than I think most people are willing to entertain. It reflects, in a major way, what occured in the Middle Ages when the Kabbalists began to imagine the Shekinah as God’s bride. It is embarassing and ridiculous to scholars and theologians, but the idea has tremendous popularity with regular people. Margaret Starbird’s mystical Christianity, poor historical scholarship aside, has touched a nerve. A failure to explore why that stimulus is so powerful would be not only spiritually negligent, but a bit like burying one’s head in the sand.

It has been said in Christianity, many times, that the emptiness we humans feel in our existence is a “God-shaped hole,” that ultimately, only God can satisfy the search for meaning. Can it not be asked if, in fact, half of that void might actually be Godess-shaped?

When I started this blog, I said that I like to plant myself firmly between the two branches of the Magdalene movement, the historians and the mystics. I tend to lean more toward the historians, but perhaps spending a weekend with six historians gave me a reason to sympathize again with the mystics. Although I can appreciate their position entirely (the mystics are making up history as they go), I think it’s important to respect the authenticity of spiritual experience as well as a methodical pursuit of history. I’m sure I’ll have more to say on this as I have time to commit it to writing.

Woman With The Wild Thing’s Heart: Part 1

RTE Radio has put the first installment of their series on Mary Magdalene, Woman With The Wild Thing’s Heart, online: “What’s in a name?”. From the page that comes up, just click on the link to listen to the latest installment of the series.

They included a couple snippets of my interview in this part of the series, about Gregory the Great and the origin of the name “Magdalene.” There were some excellent contributors to the program, with some valuable insight into how Mary Magdalene has been, and is, viewed in Ireland. As an American who has never travelled abroad, I’m always keen to get a more global perspective on this figure. One of my favorite parts of the show was a segment in which people on the street were asked, “Who was Mary Magdalene?” The variety of answers is fascinating!

Technical note: You need to have Real Player installed in order to listen; you can download it for free from Real’s website (click on the link to “Get RealPlayer – Free”).

As luck would have it

I’ve been given an extraordinary opportunity. This Friday and Saturday I will be in New York participating in a roundtable with such luminaries in the area of Mary Magdalene studies as:

• Elaine Pagels
• Susan Haskins
• Jane Schaberg
• Diane Apostolos-Cappadona
• Margaret Starbird
• Deirdre Good

To say that I’m thrilled is an understatement. As a non-academic, it’s a deep honor to be included in any project with such notables.

I’ll be sure to blog all about it when I get back.

Mary Magdalene Preaching

In my 12/28/05 post, “The Golden Legend”, I discussed Diane Apostolos-Cappadona’s interpretation of a boat in a 16th century painting of Mary Magdalene preaching to a group of people in Gaul. Oddly, I just came across another reference to the same painting in a completely different book that contains the same exact observation.

The book is Mary Magdalene and the Drama of Saints: Theater, Gender, and Religion in Late Medieval England, by Theresa Coletti (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004). The painting is reproduced on page 137, and the accompanying text on page 136 says:

The preaching scene is situated in a wooded area; visible in the background on the left, the image of a sailing vessel alludes to the holy woman’s legendary transport to Marseilles and thereby situates the panel’s representation of the sain’t preaching in relation to her entire life.

That’s all that is said of the boat, but it’s enough. I find it odd that scholars who are otherwise familiar with The Golden Legend of Jacobus de Voragine could completely miss the figures who appear in the background with the boat. I thought at first that Coletti inherited this oversight from Apostolos-Cappadona, but she’s not listed in Coletti’s bibliography.

Granted, this particular misreading is not a very big deal, it’s something that just stands out to me now that I’ve noticed it. I haven’t read Coletti’s book yet, I just came across this while thumbing through it. The book looks promising otherwise.

Comparative table of MM and others

Rather than doing all of the things I should be doing, I decided to copy a table out of Raymond Brown’s book, The Death of the Messiah, that compares all of the people present for the crucifixion, entombment and emtpy tomb narratives across the four canonical gospels. It’s quite handy.

You can find the table here.

I am considering adding to this table as I have time, to include the lists of those present in these three scenes in non-canonical texts. It would add another dimension to the discussion, I think, particularly where pre-4th century texts are concerned. The Gospel of Peter and Epistula Apostolorum are two that come immediately to mind, and a variant present in one MS of the Diatessaron. Maybe it should include Gospel textual variants as well.

If I’m feeling really ambitious, I’ll make a table with this kind of comparison that includes the works of patristic writers, Gnostic texts, and non-canonical “orthodox” texts through the end of the 6th century. There were some odd variations floating around, and it might make for an interesting study.

You and Mary Magdalene

In a recent post at Jesus Creed (“You and Jesus”), Scot McKnight discusses the concept that we make Jesus in our own image rather than make ourselves in Jesus’ image. “Everyone wants Jesus so much on his or her side that they make him fit,” Scot says.

I couldn’t agree more with this idea, and it occurs to me that people are now doing the same exact thing with Mary Magdalene. She is an apostle to those who seek acknowledgement as potential leaders, she is a “lost bride” to those who seek to be valued for their feminine qualities, she is a priestess to those who would make female sexuality a primary spiritual focus. Of course this is a simplistic view of the whole thing, but it remains true that Mary Magdalene’s identity is eerily dependent on the values of the person offering their interpretation.

Bruce Chilton’s Mary Magdalene is an exorcist and a healer. What does that say about Chilton?

Jane Schaberg’s Mary Magdalene is an “outsider” in the tradition of Virginia Woolf, and the successor of Jesus. What does that say about Schaberg?

Margaret Starbird’s Mary Magdalene is a woman who was forced into exile, her contribution devalued. What does that say about Starbird?

My Mary Magdalene is a loner, an anonymous woman who stands straight and tall amid much misunderstanding. What does that say about me?

The strangest thing, by far, that I’ve noticed about people involved in the Mary Magdalene “movement” is that they frequently recognize that this god-making occurs without acknolwedging that they’re engaging in the same kind of behavior. A projection of self is inevitable in any kind of interpretative endeavor, but objectivity demands some amount of detatchment. In the work of some scholars, I don’t have a problem remaining open to new ways of looking at old stories; in the work of others, an utter and complete revision of Christian history suggests deeper motives. Some authors have made themselves “open books,” so to speak, and it’s therefore possible to see how their evolving emotional and spiritual lives led to their observations about Mary Magdalene.

When readers have the same kinds of psychological and spiritual needs as a given author, that author’s work then “rings true.” This resonance, I believe, is what undergirds the popularity of The Da Vinci Code, for example, a case in which both Jesus and Mary Magdalene have been made in a new image. So while it’s absolutely productive to ask what the motives are of a given author, it is also important to consider the motives of the reader. They, too, are projecting their needs onto a text, and subsequently, onto the figure at hand. To explain the phenomenon of The Da Vinci Code, I think we first need to understand its readers. To explain the increasing importance of Mary Magdalene on Christian studies, we likewise need to understand the people to whom she has become so crucial.

Was Mary Magdalene an apostle?

There seems to be some question about whether or not Mary Magdalene really qualifies as an apostle of Christ. During the Middle Ages she was called apostola apostolorum, which, as far as I know, can be translated in two ways: “apostle TO the apostles,” and “apostle OF the apostles.” This might seem like a minor distinction, but to many people, the “devil is in the details,” as they say. Before we look at apostola apostolorum, though, it might be constructive to discuss what it takes to be an apostle in the first place.

An apostle (apostolos) is defined by Liddell and Scott in A Greek-English Lexicon as a messenger, ambassador or envoy. An apostle is someone who bears an important message.

In Christianity, there are, to my knowledge, two sets of criteria by which one could be considered an apostle. Because his are the earliest writings in the New Testament, the first definition comes from Paul, who says:

• An apostle must be a witness to the risen Christ (1 Corinthians 9:1)
• An apostle must have received a commission from Christ (Romans 1:1)

The second set of criteria is much more restrictive, and is given in Acts 1:21,22:

• An apostle must have been part of Jesus’ ministry from the beginning, when he was baptized
• An apostle must have been a witness to the risen Christ during the time before his ascension
• An apostle must be a man

Mary Magdalene qualifies as an apostle by Paul’s criteria, as do other women, such as Junia (Romans 16:7). She most definitely wouldn’t qualify by the second set of criteria, but then again, neither would Paul. He wasn’t with Jesus’ ministry from the beginning, and he wasn’t a witness of the resurrection before Jesus’ ascension. So it seems to me that we have a logical quandry on our hands; I’m not a theologian, but strictly speaking, it appears that we can either include Mary Magdalene or exclude Paul.

Back to apostola apostolorum.

The title apostola apostolorum indicates that Mary Magdalene was accepted, at least by some, as an apostle. This could have enormous implications; if Mary Magdalene was called to be an apostle, wouldn’t that mean that women could be ordained as priests? Here is where the slight difference in translation starts making a difference.

When translated as “apostle OF the apostles,” Mary Magdalene is placed in a position of leadership, of some exaltation, sort of a “more equal” member of the group than the rest. If you think about this kind of phrasing in other contexts, say, “war of wars,” or “doctor of doctors,” you come away with a sense that one member of each group is distinguished in some way.

When translated as “apostle TO the apostles,” however, the scope of Mary Magdalene’s commission is vastly diminished. Her task takes on a rather “secretarial” connotation as a messenger to only one group of people, specifically, the male followers of Jesus. The men, in turn, had the responsibility of carrying Christ’s message to the rest of the world.

Two organizations cite Mary Magdalene’s apostleship in their lobby for the ordination of women: Women Priests, and FutureChurch. FutureChurch has done much in the last ten years to encourage a reawakening within Christianity to Mary Magdalene’s role as apostle, sponsoring and assisting in organizing Mary Magdalene feast day celebrations each July 22. (If you watch the religion section of your local newspaper around July 22, you’re likely to see announcements for such celebrations.)

All of this is based on Mary Magdalene’s identity as apostola apostolorum, and the belief that her role in announcing the resurrection was more than an empty gesture by Christ, that he chose her to carry the news. And really, even if she wasn’t specifically chosen, then she, by virtue of her love, was still the first person to be honored with such an important message. That has to count for something.

Recommended reading:
Mary Magdalene, The First Apostle, by Ann Graham Brock
Mary Magdalene: The Image of a Woman Through The Centuries, by Ingrid Maisch

The Two Marys

CNN has a special about Mary of Nazareth and Mary Magdalene called The Two Marys that they air every once in awhile. I just happened across a transcript of the program online:

http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0512/24/cp.01.html

It’s worth a read if you aren’t able to view the show on television.

Old Syriac Sinaiticus

According to Allen Dwight Callahan, in his book A Love Supreme: A History Of The Johannine Tradition, and to Raymond Brown, in his commentary The Gospel According to John XIII-XXI (Anchor Bible Series, Vol. 29), the Old Syriac Codex Sinaiticus is missing the name “Magdalene” in two places: John 20:1 and 20:18. Elsewhere, such as in the work of Stephen Shoemaker, the only noted absence of the epithet in the Sinatic MS is in John 20:18.

I was able to acquire a copy of George Anton Kiraz’ Comparitive Edition of the Syriac Gospels: Aligning the Sinaiticus, Curetonianus, Peshitta and Harklean Versions (Volume 4: John) from the library, but this has only produced more questions.

John 20:18 clearly does not include an epithet of any kind for the woman normally called “Magdalene.”

John 20:1, on the other hand, appears to include something else. Not being educated in Syriac, I’m having a hard time deciphering this as a misspelling, or perhaps as another version of the name. Where her name in Syriac usually appears (transliterated) as MGDLYTA, in 20:1 it appears as DMGDLYA. I assume (possibly wrongly) that MGDLYTA is a translation of the Greek magdalhnh, perhaps directly to mean “woman from Magdala.” I have no inkling of what DMGDLYA would be. The order of consonants seems to make it some form of a word or name related to “Magdala,” but I’m really not sure. Kiraz has it noted with a sic.

If anyone who happens to read this is familiar enough with Syriac to offer any suggestions, I would be most appreciative.

Update: 01/16/06 – My husband pointed out that the latest post at Evangelical Textual Criticism is about Old Syriac texts online. In this post, P.J. Williams directs the reader to the Comprehensive Aramaic Lexicon, which contains transcripts of both the Sinaiticus and Curetonianus Old Syriac MSS. Lucky me!

On inspecting the Sinaitic version of John 20:1, it appears that my word DMGDLYA is completely unrelated, and appears in addition to, the epithet “Magdalene.” The lexicon lists a few potential definitions, making it clear that this is the word for “rolled away,” as in, “the stone had been rolled away.” Kiraz’s sic note was not related to the epithet at all. Mystery solved. Another term to add to my “potential epithet etymology” list.

I am left with one question about all of this, however. Why would Callahan and Brown have written that John 20:1 doesn’t contain her epithet in the Sinaitic MS if it does? I’ve checked Kiraz as well as the 1894 transcript by Bensly, Harris and Burkitt; both include the epithet.

It’s a head-scratcher.

Mary Magdalene who?

Coversation with a hair stylist today:

Stylist: So, is there any special reason you’re changing your hair color?
Me: Yep, I’ve been invited to be interviewed for a television documentary, and I want to look my best.
Stylist: Oh, that’s great! What’s the documentary about?
Me: It’s about Mary Magdalene.
Stylist: Who?
Me: Mary Magdalene…she’s a Christian figure from the Gospels. She’s very popular right now.
Stylist: Huh… [pause] Did she just pass away?
Me: Uhm, no, she was a disciple of Jesus.
Stylist: Oh! [nervous laughter]

Apparently Mary Magdalene is no longer the patron saint of hairdressers.

This exchange reminds me a little of the reaction I got from my grandmother, a very faithful evangelical Christian, when I told her about my book.

Grandma: What’s your book about?
Me: It’s about Mary Magdalene.
Grandma: Oh, that’s great! Isn’t she dead now?
Me: Mary Magdalene from the New Testament, Grandma.
Grandma: Oh…..that Mary Magdalene.