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Belief Gnostics God Gospels Jesus John Luke Mark Matthew New Testament

The Bad Seed

“verily thou hast done unwisely…vex me not”

The Bible we have is a book in one volume, and so we read it as if it’s a book in one volume. But it’s really a whole bunch of books, and gospels, and pieces of poems, like a Lutheran hot dish, which is why we have Protestantism.

There are more Christian gospels in the world than appear in the New Testament.

Thomas the Israelite1 wrote an infancy gospel, probably in the 2nd century CE. (Or, at least, that’s the guess, and the dating of the earliest primary document.) It’s important to know that something not being written down doesn’t make it illegitimate, any more than something written down is legitimate. No one, from the late 100s to now, has been keen on including Thomas the Israelite’s infancy gospel, or any other infancy gospel, and the excuses are largely about its timing: it wasn’t written down soon enough. It’s almost 200 years after the birth/death of Jesus, and isn’t written by Someone Who Was There. (A gospel being written by Someone Who Was There became a main measuring stick still used today when judging whether something is Bible-worthy or not. Unless it’s by a woman who was there and then we immediately jettison it, so its part of the ecosystem that the species Dans brown live on.) But even today we have books about people written by other people who Were Not There. They’re called history books and biographies.

Infancy gospels would be very important, and a lot of early Christian apologists would have loved to find a legitimate infancy gospel to fill in those missing years where Jesus appears to not do much. (This leads to everything from “Jesus traveled to India and became a Buddhist master” to “he traveled to Arabia in order to become a magus.” As inconsistent as Christian apologists are — and they are very inconsistent — they do grant that they are check-mated here and have no documentation to support their idea that Jesus didn’t do these things. I’ve got more to say about this, but it’s in that footnote you passed.)

Apologists’ inability to believe in infancy gospels doesn’t mean they don’t exist. They do. And the reason apologists might stay away is often insufferably unpleasant.

In the Infancy Gospel of Thomas2, Thomas tells us that Jesus killed the following people:

– The son an Annas, who mucks up a pretty pool Jesus created on the Sabbath, by withering him either like or literally into a fig tree. (You may remember Annas from Jesus Christ Superstar and the song “This Jesus Must Die.” One of the reasons might be because Jesus killed his kid.)

– A kid who bumped into him. (When the kid’s parents complained to Joseph — “What if he blessed people instead of cursing them?” — Joseph had a talk with Jesus, who carefully explained that he was Very Right to kill that kid, and then Jesus blinded his accusers. Joseph tried again to parent Jesus, and Jesus said, “You’re working my last nerve, Joe. Pray you don’t finish.”)

– Probably this other kid named Zeno, who “fell off the roof.” When that kid’s parents told Joseph, Jesus immediately ran to the corpse and brought it to life so it could exonerate him.

In an infancy gospel from the late 600s/early 700s, “Pseudo-Matthew,” Jesus doesn’t kill anyone. Instead, no one can eat unless Jesus is at the table, and when Jesus isn’t at the table no one eats. Also, Jesus is surrounded by “the brightness of God” day and night which would make him impossible to share a room with.

The Syrian Infancy Gospel (c. late 400s) shows that people keep dumping dirty Jesus water on sick kids, with miraculous results. No little amount of time is spent cataloging attempts by people trying to steal the bathwater to throw on lepers. (There’s also a dragon in this gospel which is defeated with some of Jesus’s soiled laundry.)

Later, Jesus becomes angry with some boys who are too good at hide-and-seek so he turns them into goats. Oh, and one time Jesus dressed himself up as a king and made his friends drag people from the road to honor him.

The Divinity of Jesus

There are competing theories in the gospel about the Divinity of Jesus. You may not know that there are competing theories, because the New Testament is presented as unified and inerrant. But you’ve got your Incarnationists over here, and your Adoptionists over there, and here’s how they differ.

Incarnationists believe that God was incarnated on Earth in Jesus, who also existed with God from one moment before the beginning of everything. So actually, there’s a schism right there with the Incarnationsts. Some believe that Jesus only existed from the beginning in the way that your ability to pull off a convincing English accent existed from birth: something you could do, but not something you were always doing. Jesus is a unique experience God has on earth. And then some, like, for instance, the writer of the Gospel of John, believe that Jesus and God are the same, and have always existed, but are separate, but not different, and God has always been God and Jesus, and Jesus has always been Jesus and God. For this narrative, btw, you need to fix a bunch of plot holes; but because the plot holes are terminal plot holes, fixing them only makes everything hole-ier. For instance, if Jesus is divine from the very beginning, he needs a pristine and spotless womb. And a pristine and spotless womb cannot even have caught a flashing glimpse of a penis let it be awashed in schiaparelli sin and that’s absolutely no house for a savior. But we also have Original Sin to contend with. How spotless and pristine can a womb be if its bearer is tainted? So now we have to remember that Mary was conceived without original sin. But she can’t be supernatural — that doesn’t exist. She’s not divine, or demi-divine. Except when she is. She’s a human woman, because Jesus has to be born of a human woman. But she has to be so extraordinary as to almost negate her humanity. And then if this were a sonata, I’d put one of those repeat signs so you would know to go back and repeat this again, every 50 years, until you die.

It’s bonkers.

Adoptionists believe that Jesus was born entirely human. Mary is human, Jesus is human, God is God, and doesn’t notice Jesus until (a) his baptism in the Jordan by John; (b) his crucifixion; or (c) his resurrection. In this case, God notices how great Jesus has been and gives him Employee of the Year. The Gospel of Mark in the New Testament is an Adoptionist gospel. (People will argue with me and I just won’t listen.) Mark knows nothing about Jesus’s birth, the angels, the annunciation, the magi, the stars. Mary, his mother, is mentioned only once and she has no speaking lines. Jesus becomes divine at the moment of baptism, when the “heavens [are] torn apart,” the Spirit descends (who is this “spirit”? Another time, my ducks), and a voice comes from haven, saying, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (All quotations from Mark 1:9-11 in the NRSV.)

Matthew and Luke are also sometimes viewed as Adoptionist. Jesus does not become divine until Mary conceives. Matthew and Luke do not say anything about Jesus’s eternalness. So we’ll add a (pre-a) to the above list and say “until his conception.”

John is the only wholly Incarnationist gospel we have in the New Testament.

This is a little bit of an issue for the gap we have when we take all gospels together. Combined, here is what we know:

pre-birth to birth: check
1ish to 12: absolutely nothing
12: check (he’s a rabbi now)
12 to 29: absolutely nothing
30 to 33: busy

We have nothing in the New Testament that fills those gaps. If Jesus was an incarnation of God — God made Flesh — you’d think that would be remarked on. Initially some very excited shepherds visit. We get some Persian magician-spies. And that’s it. This extraordinary event — a magical star, angels everywhere, prophecies — is forgotten. Kinda like the One Ring, I guess? But not really. Here’s a kid, born of a young woman, who might or might be a virgin depending on how you translate, and he’s not lying at the bottom of a river covered in silt. He’s around! He’s in his community! And unlike the way we’ve pubertized magic in popular culture, where wizardy kids don’t have control over their sexua– sorry, magic, until pubert– sorry, until they learn to control their orgas. Shit. Unlike that, there’s no sense that Jesus has to “control his powers” because Jesus is God and God is not a horny teen witch. (Unless he is!)

So if we’re to understand Jesus in an Incarnationist context, this knowledge gap is puzzling. However, if we are rational Markan Adoptionists, then that gap is explained by an entire Portnoise of all the very boring same things that all teens do. He’s not the Christ yet. He hasn’t been adopted by God down by the river.

Infancy gospels are an Incarnationist genre. They’re wild, and I love them. They’re also necessary for belief, but not convenient for it. They sit uneasily next to stories of Jesus’s meekness and humility, and run counter to his own ambivalence about his divinity. They’re flawed portraits by flawed people, looking for a savior who might look like them.


Footnotes

1 Some of you may know about the gnostic Secret Gospel of Thomas. Thomas the Israelite, to whom this infancy gospel is attributed, is not that Thomas. Unless he is. But mostly probably not.]

2 None of the gospels we have — both in the New Testament and those left out — came with titles. They didn’t have chapters or verses, either. All of that stuff is added later, and titles like Pseudo-Matthew were/are used primarily to scare people away and reaffirm that they’re Not Really Gospels. But they are.

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Belief Bible Study Christ Gospels Mark Matthew New Testament

What Happens When Jesus is Racist?: The Syrophoenician Woman

We are spoiled for choice when it comes to reckoning with Jesus of Nazareth. For atheists, he was just another Jewish apocalyptic preacher. (I think there was a time when “Did Jesus exist?” made the rounds as a question and almost all historians of the Ancient Near East (ANE) agree that a man named Jesus actually existed; the miracle stories they leave to theology.) For believers, that flow chart branches a lot. Was he wholly divine? Was he wholly human? Was he both? Was Jesus also God, or was Jesus next to God? Your New Testament will be no help on this by the way.

For me, at this moment right now, Jesus of Nazareth was a Jewish apocalyptic preacher who worked on behalf of the poor, the cast-aside, the hungry, and the needy. (I will no doubt have completely changed my Christology the next time we meet.) I, personally, don’t need him to be the Son of God, but would not be dismayed if it turns out he is. I don’t need him to be divine. How any of us think about Jesus — if you think about Jesus at all — is what you get to do with your one wild and precious life and no one should stand in your way*.

[Except don’t be a dick? If your belief in Jesus compels you to gatekeep Christianity, silence women, preach a Prosperity Gospel, and harm queer people all across the spectrum, then I feel comfortable saying your belief is bad and it is doing bad things to your soul.]

Both Mark and Matthew understood that there was a divine component to Jesus. Mark locates it at the baptism by John. Matthew (and Luke) locates it at Jesus’s very conception. John is way out on his own with the suggestion that Jesus of Nazareth was ever-present from the beginning. (One of the reasons why I say your New Testament will not help you is that none of our gospel writers really agree on the fundamentals of what Jesus’s purpose was. And that’s even before we get to the letters of Paul — the earliest Christian writings we currently have. What is interesting in Paul, though, are these glimpses of the oral traditions passed around these newly forming Christian communities after the crucifixion. In one of his letters, Paul quotes a creed that we have never seen anywhere else, in the Bible or any other ANE writings, that suggests that the very first Christians located Jesus’s divinity at the resurrection. All of this is called Adoptionism, and the Adoptionism argument is: was Jesus actually God, or did God adopt Jesus because of his righteous ways.)

The above is a long throat-clear/level-setting for what I really want to write about, which is the exorcism of the Syrophoenician (or Canaanite woman’s daughter. Because I think it captures an actual event (minus the exorcism), and shows us Jesus as a human being.

The story shows up in Mark (Mark 7:24-30) and Matthew (15:21-28). They are almost the same story; however, Matthew adds some stuff that Mark doesn’t. (In fact, all the gospel writers after Mark in the New Testament use Mark as their rough draft and add their own bells* and whistles.) The bones: Jesus is among the Gentiles in Tyre and Sidon***. A Gentile woman (Mark calls her Syrophoenician; Matthew calls her a Canaanite) begs Jesus to heal her demon-possessed daughter. Jesus initially refuses, and his reason isn’t super explicit, except he uses a racial slur against the woman (likening her and other Gentiles to dogs). But this woman isn’t easily cowed. She argues back, insists that even a Gentile is worthy of healing, and Jesus changes his mind. In Mark he says, “Go; the demon has left your daughter.”

[* For one thing, because Matthew is pushing an Incarnation Christology — God came to earth in the form of a human baby — he has the Canaanite woman say, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David.” (Matt 15:22)

[** LENNY: I can’t help it! It gets me mad! It gets me upset! Why, Meg’s always run wild–she started smoking and drinking when she was fourteen years old, she never made good grades–never made her own bed! But somehow she always seemed to get what she wanted. She’s the one who got singing and dancing lessons; and a store-bought dress to wear to her senior prom. Why, do you remember how Meg always got to wear twelve jingle bells on her petticoats, while we were only allowed to wear three apiece? Why?! Why should Old Grandmama let her sew twelve golden jingle bells on her petticoats and us only three!!!

BABE: I don’t know!! Maybe she didn’t jingle them as much.]

[*** There is some geographical parallelism in Mark. Jesus will offer a teaching or a feeding to the Jews, and then he’ll be taken by boat to the Gentile communities to work a miracle, teaching, or feeding there, too.]

What do we do with this passage? What do we do when Jesus is racist?

My study Bible used to be a New International Version (NIV), though I prefer a New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) now, and the modern editors of the NIV have added a heading to the Mark account, “Jesus Honors a Syrophoenician Woman’s Faith,” and in Matthew, this story is labeled, “The Faith of a Canaanite Woman.” The NRSV does a little better. (Though it’s important maybe to point out that these section headings do not appear in the original texts. Also not in the original texts: chapters or verse numbers. Those all came later.) For Mark, the NRSV labels it “The Syrophoenician Woman’s Faith” and in Matthew it’s “The Canaanite Woman’s Faith.”

The NIV is an Evangelical Bible, and is translated with a theological purpose. The NIV doesn’t want to focus on Jesus’s racism and his human crankiness. Jesus doesn’t “honor” the Syrophoenician woman’s faith at all. In fact, a better heading for this section might be, “Jesus is a Jerk and Regrets It.”

(I will absolutely be executed as a heretic when our country finally settles on theocracy as its main governing position.)

I think, as believers anywhere along that path, it is our duty to sit with this story. Not smooth it over. Not erase this flash of cruelty. Not make it about the Syrophoenician woman’s faith — which is strong — but about Jesus’s humanness. I am far more comforted by a human Jesus than I am by a divine being who hasn’t fucked up. This passage, in both Mark and Matthew, is often used to describe Jesus’s conversion of the Gentiles to…well, we can’t call it Christianity yet because Jesus is still alive. But essentially, he’s converting/convincing people to his way of thinking about God’s laws and what is required of people here and now on earth. But that’s an Evangelical reading, which never sits well with me. It takes the focus away from what the text literally tells us.

One way New Testament scholars decide if something was actually said/done by Jesus is to see if it’s something that goes against what the gospeler is trying to get across. (I haven’t said this in a while, but: The Bible — the WHOLE Bible — is a political document with differing points of view and a variety of biases.) Mark’s purpose is to write a gospel that can be used in concert with existing Jewish liturgy and to announce that Jesus is the Christ/Messiah. The Syrophoenician woman’s story is a strange interlude, and shows Jesus acting in a way that is unusual and uncomfortable. So — I feel this maybe actually happened, because it’s an uncharacteristic portrait of Jesus. (And by “actually happened” I believe a Gentile woman approached Jesus and begged for a healing. She believed her daughter was demon-possessed, and she was in a time/culture that allowed for demonic possession. Mark is absolutely obsessed with demons. Did her daughter have a demon? I don’t know. I don’t think so? But that’s my own bias. Did Jesus heal this girl in some way? Again, I don’t know. These are issues of theology rather than textual investigation.)

And if Jesus is wholly human AND wholly divine — he is just being his Father’s son here. God throughout the Hebrew scriptures calls for outright genocide, not the “mild” racism on display with Jesus here. God is often cranky. He is jealous and vindictive and absolutely picks favorites. Why wouldn’t Jesus, too, have some of those traits?

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Belief Bible Study Gospels John Luke Mark Matthew New Testament Parables

In Which I Don’t Write Very Coherently About Fig Trees, But At Least Try My Best

A sentence you’ll read when you Google “figs and wasps” is in a caption to a photo of a wasp and a fig: “A female fig wasp descends through the ostiole into the center of the fig plant’s syconium.” This is all clearly a private matter and none of our business but it is my responsibility to tell you that when you eat a fig, you’re also eating a wasp. Or at least wasp eggs. Maybe it’s wasp larva. The point is, I didn’t read much of the article; I’m a headlines kinda guy.

(By the way this article that I didn’t read, and you shouldn’t either, tries to bright-side dead wasps in figs and I want to say to this article, “You don’t have to work this hard on a losing battle. Rest.”)

(ALICE WALKER INTERLUDE: “for two who slipped away almost entirely”

for two who
slipped away
almost
entirely:
my “part” Cherokee
great-grandmother
Tallulah
(Grandmama Lula)
on my mother’s side
about whom
only one
agreed-upon
thing
is known:
her hair was so long
she could sit on it:

And my white (Anglo-Irish)
great-great-grandfather
on my father’s side
nameless
(Walker, perhaps?)
whose only remembered act
is that he raped
a child;
my great-great-grandmother,
who bore his son,
my great-grandfather,
when she was eleven.

Rest in peace.
The meaning of your lives
is still
unfolding.

Rest in peace.
In me
the meaning of your lives
is still
unfolding.

Rest in peace, in me.
The meaning of your lives
is still
unfolding.

Rest. In me
the meaning of your lives
is still
unfolding.

Rest. In peace
in me
the meaning of our lives
is still
unfolding.

Rest.)

Jesus curses a fig tree in the gospels of Mark (“May no one ever eat fruit from you again”) and Matthew (“May no fruit ever come from you again!”). In Luke, Jesus doesn’t curse a fig tree, but he tells a parable about a fig tree. And in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas (a Gnostic text about, well, just what it says), there’s no fig story, but a similar curse: “O evil, ungodly, and foolish one, what hurt did the pools and the waters do thee? behold, now also thou shalt be withered like a tree, and shalt not bear leaves, neither root, nor fruit.” (IGoT III.2)

(Orthodox Christianity — your Catholics, Protestants, and the like — will claim that we don’t know much about Jesus’s childhood. But that’s because they refuse to recognize extrabiblical texts, like the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, which cover a lot of that stuff.)

Let’s unpack just a little bit of history. The Hebrew Bible — what Christians call the Old Testament but shouldn’t, because it’s anti-Semitic — was written by Jews for Jews to compile their history and catalog the rules, rites, and rituals necessary to worship YHWH. (Eventually I’ll stop reminding you about this — that the Tanakh is non-Christian — but not yet.)

There are messianic passages in the Hebrew Bible. The concept of a messiah originates in Judaism. For the Jews, the messiah was prophesied to be a Jewish king from the line of David, who would come to battle all of Israel’s enemies and establish the Messianic Age. He would come as a warrior.

By the time of Jesus, there are some Jews who are anxious about the messiah, who doesn’t seem to be on any sort of schedule, and they’re not sure what’s going to happen. But they are desperately looking for a messiah. Those Jews will eventually find Jesus (who is also Jewish), and proclaim him as the messiah. They will work backwards from many of the prophecies in the Tanakh to show how Jesus checks all the boxes for messiahship. They’re done looking.

Here is a list of Jewish messiah claimants:

Jesus of Nazareth
Simon bar Kokhba
Moses of Crete
Ishak ben Ya’kub Obadiah Abu ‘Isa al-Isfahani
David Alroy
Moses of Botarel
Asher Lämmlein (a German, which feels complicated)
David Reubeni
Sabbatai Zevi
Jacob Querido
Miguel Cardoso
Löbele Prossnitz
Jacob Joseph Frank
Yosef yitzchak Schneersohn
Menachem Mendel Schneerson

There’s a long list of Christian messiah claimants, too, but I only want to talk about David Shayler, an MI5 agent and whistle-blower born in 1965. He’s a 9/11 Truther who sees David Icke — who believes there are lizard people living amongst us — as “the John the Baptist to my Christ.” He is currently living part-time as a woman named Delores Kane in an environmental squat situation. His claim to the role of messiah comes from interpreting the engravings on the Rod of Aaron, the staff carried by Moses’s older brother, which Shayler claims are an anagram of “David Shayler, Righteous King.”

Some 1st century messianic Jews picked Jesus as their Chosen One. These Jews had grown disillusioned with Judaism as it was then practiced, and wrote about Jesus as someone who also wanted to see the end of Jerusalem as a political and religious power. Jesus spends a lot of time breaking sabbath rules, disrespecting the synagogue, and angrily overturning tables because of what he sees as the dissolution of holiness and a shocking lack of compassion and empathy. One uncomfortable thing that Christians should grapple with, but don’t, is how anti-Jewish the New Testament is. We of course have to acknowledge that Jesus himself was Jewish; but he then spends most of his ministry as an iconoclast of Judaism. Christianity wants to say, “Hey, Jews, we found the messiah!” And Jews want the U.S. to stop enabling Nazis and to remind Christians that no, actually, the messiah has NOT been found, we’re still waiting, YOU’RE still waiting, and your Jesus seems nice, we’re aware of his work, but we’re not convinced, please stop making a big deal out of Hannukah, it’s weird for all of us.

(But what about Matthew 5:17, you might ask? That’s where Jesus says, “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.” And we have some options in how we read this. Some fundamentalist Christians love this passage because it allows them to hate gays, since Jesus isn’t coming to overturn the Levitical Laws. They’re not giving up shrimp and mixed fibers, but that’s for another time. Some Christian theologians see this as Jesus actually justifying his current destructive behavior, because for Jesus the law isn’t Leviticus and 613 mitzvot to be followed by rote. He’s here to fulfill God’s law, which is a radical political message of: care for everyone, feed everyone, sell all your things, and follow me.)

(Am I ever going to write about this g/d fig tree?)

Another very quick bit of history that you may or may not know: Mark is the oldest Gospel we have in the canonical Bible. Mark is not the oldest writing in the canonical Bible; those would be the letters of Paul. If you’re at all interested in Biblical stuff, not necessarily as a source of theology, but to look at the development of a literary tradition, I ::highly:: recommend Marcus Borg’s Evolution of the Word, which sets the books of the New Testament in the order we’re pretty sure they were written in. Matthew is next, then Luke. And we’re pretty sure that Matthew and Luke had a copy of Mark that they used for reference when writing their own gospels. John is the youngest gospel, and it’s weird, and John probably had all three Synoptic Gospels (theologian talk for Mark, Matthew, and Luke), but also was enrolled in the Iowa Writers’ Workshop so he’s really just mostly doing his own thing.

Mark and Matthew tell the story of the fig tree as an event that Jesus participated in: Jesus is hungry, he sees a fig tree in leaf, thinks, “A snack!” and then finds out that it’s not the season for figs; that there are no figs to be et; and so he curses the fig tree.

(One time, Zach and I were in D.C., and I had waited too long to tell Zach that I was hungry, so I’m already not in a Great Space, mentally, and we get to this place with an overwhelming menu and I start crying a little and say, plaintively, to Zach: “I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO EAT.”)

For Mark, it’s a multi-day story. One day, he curses a fig tree. He then goes to Jerusalem where he enters the temple and throws out the merchants and money lenders. The next day, as they’re passing that same fig tree, Peter says, “Oh hey, look at how cursed that fig tree is.” And Jesus goes on to be inscrutable the way he can be inscrutable when he starts parable-ing: “Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you.” (Mark 11:23)

Matthew doesn’t have the table-turning interlude. Jesus curses the fig tree, the fig tree is cursed, and afterwards he says a similar nonsensical thing: “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done.”

Literally no person in the history of time has moved a mountain via prayer.

So how do we understand this story? Is it literal? Is it metaphorical? And my answer to you, beloveds, is it’s probably both.

(I have a complicated theology about who Jesus is, and how he is separate from the Christ Event. I do think a man named Jesus existed, and probably caused a lot of disruption. I think he is an expression of the Christ idea ::in that time::. I think the Christ Event has happened over and over again, way before humans even appeared on earth, way before even the earth itself was entirely formed. The universe is 14 billion years old; we have no right to believe that the Christ Event only happened once, and hasn’t continued happening again and again.)

Was Jesus hungry? He would have to be. He is human. He is not in a profession. They’re not making money and relying on people extending kindness and generosity to them. In fact, Mark and Matthew explicitly tell us that Jesus was hungry. Did he curse a fig tree? No doubt. I have, on many occasions, cursed six things before breakfast.

Did the curse work?

This is where we get into metaphor and parable. Christian theologians see Jesus cursing the fig tree as a symbolic curse on Jerusalem and its religious structure. The temple appears as a tree with leaves, that looks like it has fruit to nourish. But actually, the temple is not producing good fruit.

(I want to acknowledge outright, again, the anti-Semitic nature of the Christian narrative. This story is one of violence against Judaism. One of the toughest parts of my faith — besides all of it — is reconciling Jesus’s messages of social justice with this subtext of: “The Jews are wrong.”)

Mormonism is interesting to examine at this point. As Christianity is a splinter of Jewish belief, Mormonism is a splinter of Christian belief. And, as Christianity has its own holy book that relies on Jewish texts for support, Mormonism has its holy book, which relies on the Christian gospels to supplement its claims. In some ways, we’re living in a time much like Jesus would have been living in, with religious confusion abounding and new spiritual ideas trying to gain ground in the marketplace. There’s this concept that, the further back in time you go, the closer you get to the True Christianity, or the True Judaism. But the fact is, the further back you go, it’s all becomes a kaleidoscopic confusion instead of a coherent worldview.