Revisionist portraits of Jesus promulgated today by sources ranging from the Jesus Seminar to the New Age movement are receiving great attention; meanwhile, another, lesser figure who is associated with Jesus has been undergoing a significant, but quieter, makeover. Mary Magdalene has become the subject of a spate of recent books and products, some of which portray her in terms that evangelical, Catholic, and other Christians have deemed questionable or even offensive.

The most recent and popular revisioning of Mary Magdalene has emerged from the best-selling novel The Da Vinci Code, which paints a portrait of Mary as the wife of Jesus and as the true spiritual head of a church that had been corrupted by male apostles. The author, Dan Brown, had adopted a history of Mary from earlier treatments, such as Holy Blood, Holy Grail by Michael Baigent, Henry Leigh, and Henry Lincoln, as one who escaped to France to produce a royal bloodline with Jesus. These and other new visions of Mary variously combine the text of the New Testament, apocryphal works, medieval legends, and modern understandings to create a revamped Mary Magdalene that has informed popular culture and tantalized public perceptions.

Small-Town Beginnings. The portrait of Mary Magdalene that emerges from the handful of verses about her in the Bible indicates that she was a woman of some importance. She is identified as a supporter of Jesus’ ministry (Luke8:1–2), which could indicate that she was a person of means. Luke records that seven demons were cast out of her (Luke8:3), which may well have been the event that led her to support Jesus’ ministry. Other texts affirm that she was one of several women who attended Jesus’ death and burial. Most significantly, she is reported to be the first recipient of a personal visit by the resurrected Christ (John20:11–18), a significant honor. The word Magdalene is not a surname, but an indication that Mary resided in the fishing village of Migdal (which would later be called Magdala) on the northwest coast of the Sea of Galilee.

Magdalene Media Blitz. Riding on the success of The Da Vinci Code, several books and products concerned with Mary Magdalene either have newly appeared or seen a revitalization of sales. These include fictional works such as Unveiling Mary Magdalene by Liz Curtis Higgs and Mary, Called Magdalene by Margaret George; commentaries on apocryphal texts associated with Mary Magdalene such as The Gospel of Mary Magdalene by Jean-Yves Leloup and The Gospels of Mary by Marvin Meyer; speculative biographies ranging from Margaret Starbird’s esoteric Mary Magdalene: Bride in Exile to Bruce Chilton’s more mainstream Mary Magdalene: A Biography; and, offering the truest signal that Mary Magdalene has “arrived” in popular culture, a Complete Idiot’s Guide to Mary Magdalene and a Gospel of Mary Magdalene 2006Calendar. Older books used by Dan Brown as sources for The Da Vinci Code, such as Holy Blood, Holy Grail, have received renewed attention, while newer books offering the same general thesis placing Mary Magdalene in France, such as Laurence Gardner’s The Magdalene Legacy, have also ridden on the crest.

A Manufactured Reputation. The current interest in Mary Magdalene reflects nothing new, but is a revitalization of a fascination that first appeared in the secondcenturyAD. Philip Jenkins, Distinguished Professor of History and Religious Studies at the University of Pennsylvania, and author of the book Hidden Gospels, reminds us of ancient documents such as The Gospel of Mary and The Sophia of Jesus Christ, which were authored by groups regarded as heretical by the mainstream church, and which cast Mary in a superior role, often having a special and perhaps even sexual relationship with Jesus. Jenkins notes that the worldview of the authors of these documents (whom scholars loosely refer to as “Gnostics,” from the Greek word gnosis, or knowledge, after their belief that salvation required special “knowledge”), “demanded that spiritual beings exist in male and female pairs,” and so Jesus Himself required some sort of equitable female counterpart. Mary Magdalene became a natural choice for this equation because she was the first person to see the risen Jesus.

Modern interpreters of Mary Magdalene, ironically, make significant but often selective use of these ancient texts. Paul Maier, professor of ancient history at Western Michigan University, observes that “Dan Brown will use whatever apocryphal writings are helpful to him, but he overlooks the most famous Gnostic gospel of all: The Gospel of Thomas,” which concludes with a saying that is antithetical to Brown’s view of Mary Magdalene. When Peter asks Jesus to force Mary to leave, “for females don’t deserve life,” Jesus does not rebuke Peter, but rather says, “I will guide her to make her male, so that she too may become a living spirit resembling you males. For every female who makes herself male will enter the kingdom of Heaven.”

Darrell Bock, Research Professor of New Testament Studies at Dallas Theological Seminary, and author of Breaking the Da Vinci Code and the forthcoming Jesus in Context, notes that the Jesus of the Gnostic texts is often portrayed as “so divine he can’t be human,” which is in contrast to the Jesus of The Da Vinci Code, who is seen as a mere man who was elevated to divinity.

Richard Bauckham, professor of New Testament at the University of St. Andrews in Scotland and author of Gospel Women: Studies of Named Women in the Gospels, similarly says that “at the fairly popular level, references to the Gnostic Gospels are given without any serious account of what Gnostic Christianity was like.” Bauckham points out that these references tend to ignore the views of Gnostics that are elitist and “generally anti-material—i.e., they regard the body as an evil, processes like sex and childbirth as undesirable.” In contrast, The Da Vinci Code implies that the original form of Christianity involved semi-public sexual rituals and was highly egalitarian. Bauckham thus emphasizes the irony: “The idea that Jesus and Mary had a sexual relationship and produced children would have horrified orthodox Christians, but it would have horrified Gnostics even more!”

The next “cultural makeover” of Mary Magdalene occurred when she was (most scholars believe, erroneously) identified with the unnamed “sinful woman” of Luke7:37–50, and also with Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus. Pope Gregory the Great (c.AD540–604) analogically connected Mary’s seven demons with the seven deadly sins, and used Mary as an ideal type of the repentant sinner. Ironically, many modern interpreters of Mary Magdalene view this as a symptom of a desire to suppress and discredit her as the representative of authentic Christianity, when in fact, say Carl Olson and Sandra Miesel, authors of The Da Vinci Hoax, Gregory’s intent was to uphold her as “an exemplar of repentance, humility, and devotion.”

Closer to the modern era, interest in Mary Magdalene, and alternate views of her role, emerged well before The Da Vinci Code, for example, in Holy Blood, Holy Grail, which appeared in 1982. Christians may recall a more controversial (and graphic) variation of the relationship between Jesus and Mary as presented in the book (1960) and film (1988) The Last Temptation of Christ. Suggestions that Jesus and Mary were a married couple can also be discovered as a secondary belief (not a formal doctrine) of the Mormon church. “Marriage, procreation, and polygamy were very important elements in a Mormon’s salvation during the early years of Mormonism. For this reason we should not be surprised to learn that LDS leaders portrayed Jesus as a married man,” says Bill McKeever, director of Mormonism Research Ministry. “Some Mormons may find the Jesus/Mary Magdalene connection made by early [Mormon] leaders uncomfortable; however, the fact that none of them were reprimanded shows that it must have been an acceptable teaching.” McKeever cites early Mormon apostle Orson Hyde, who inferred that Jesus was married not only to Mary Magdalene, but also to Lazarus’s sisters Mary and Martha. Time magazine writer David van Biema, in an August11,2003, article “Mary Magdalene: Saint or Sinner?” attributes to early Mormon leader Brigham Young a belief that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were marriage partners. Today, popular Mormon apologists such as Michael Griffith entertain the idea that Mary Magdalene was Jesus’ wife, and appeal, even as The Da Vinci Code does, to ancient Gnostic texts as support.

The Perfect Heroine. Why the renewed interest in Mary Magdalene? Liz Curtis Higgs, author of Unveiling Mary Magdalene, suggested in an interview with the Journal that the trigger was a combination of factors, particularly the appearance of the “voluptuous, sensual Mary Magdalene” singing to Jesus, “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” in the 1973 film version of Jesus Christ: Superstar. Higgs also credits revival of interest to the “goddess movement” (a woman-based form of spirituality that views Christianity as patriarchal and destructive, and portrays itself as regenerative), as well as a more general interest in women of the Bible by Christians. Higgs, who has collected more than 100 books on Mary Magdalene, regards her as “the finest role model in the Bible,” but also “the most misunderstood” woman in the New Testament. She noted that many of the books (such as Margaret Starbird’s) “jump to conclusions” based on silences in the biblical text and inferences that the authors draw from Mary’s special prominence among women in the Gospels.

Scholars observing the current Mary Magdalene phenomenon have suggested that its roots lie in ideological concerns and a desire to refabricate Christian faith to make it more suitable to modern preferences. In Hidden Gospels, Jenkins refers to “a tendency by feminist scholars to inflate claims about the value of lost gospels and scriptures as evidence for the early church” and affirms the “ideological character” of these modern efforts. In his article “A Quite Contrary Mary,” journalist of religion Kenneth Woodward writes, “In the case of Mary Magdalene, the news is not what is being said about her, but the new context in which she is being placed—and who is doing the placing and why.” Feminist scholars, Woodward says, suppose that “the early movement led by Jesus was egalitarian and gender-inclusive” but that later male-dominated parties in the church (led first by Peter) covered up Mary’s role in this movement. This is the same theme that governs the plot of The Da Vinci Code.

In somewhat different terms, Bauckham believes that the renewed interest in the women of the Bible and the early church has been, in general, “healthy and productive.” “We have learned a lot more about women in early Christianity, and most would agree that they played more prominent roles than usually had been thought,” Bauckham told the Journal. He cautions, however, that “this trend can be taken in speculative and extreme directions” that hypothesize deliberate suppression of evidence, which then allows entry for the idea that documents like The Gospel of Mary may be “more authentic”’ then the canonical ones. Maier, likewise, asserts that although for “too long, the church has underused the great talents of women,” and that therefore there is “some justification” for the current interest, many efforts such as Brown’s “overdo it heroically and are false historically.”

On the popular level, Bauckham believes that, combined with the allure of conspiracy theories, the interest in Mary has been kindled by “a desire to discover that Jesus had a sexual relationship, because to so many contemporary people this seems essential to being human.” Bock attributes the renewed interest in Mary Magdalene to a combination of “the concern to discover the role of women in the church” (and particularly, to seek documents that present “a prominent role for a woman close to Jesus”) and a desire to “challenge the uniqueness of Jesus as presented in orthodox Christianity.”

The vision of Mary Magdalene has traversed from one of mystical elitism (as held by ancient Gnostics) to one of social egalitarianism (as held by modern feminist scholars and popular works). What other visions may emerge in the future is open to speculation, but it is certain that with the upcoming release of The Da Vinci Code film, a spotlight will continue to shine on this most prominent of “Gospel women.”

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Mystery Religions Argument 1- False Cause

Arguments offered to “prove” a Christian dependence on the mysteries illustrate the logical fallacy of false cause. This fallacy is committed whenever someone reasons that just because two things exist side by side, one of them must have caused the other. As we all should know, mere coincidence does not prove causal connection. Nor does similarity prove dependence.

Mystery Religions Argument 2- Exaggerations

Many alleged similarities between Christianity and the mysteries are either greatly exaggerated or fabricated. Scholars often describe pagan rituals in language they borrow from Christianity. The careless use of language could lead one to speak of a “Last Supper” in Mithraism or a “baptism” in the cult of Isis. It is inexcusable nonsense to take the word “savior” with all of its New Testament connotations and apply it to Osiris or Attis as though they were savior-gods in any similar sense.

Mystery Religion Argument 3- Chronology

The chronology is all wrong. Almost all of our sources of information about the pagan religions alleged to have influenced early Christianity are dated very late. We frequently find writers quoting from documents written 300 years later than Paul in efforts to produce ideas that allegedly influenced Paul. We must reject the assumption that just because a cult had a certain belief or practice in the third or fourth century after Christ, it therefore had the same belief or practice in the first century.

Mystery Religion Argument 4- Paul

Paul would never have consciously borrowed from the pagan religions. All of our information about him makes it highly unlikely that he was in any sense influenced by pagan sources. He placed great emphasis on his early training in a strict form of Judaism (Phil. 3:5). He warned the Colossians against the very sort of influence that advocates of Christian syncretism have attributed to him, namely, letting their minds be captured by alien speculations (Col. 2:8).

Mystery Religion Argument 5- Exclusivism

Early Christianity was an exclusivistic faith. As J. Machen explains, the mystery cults were nonexclusive. “A man could become initiated into the mysteries of Isis or Mithras without at all giving up his former beliefs; but if he were to be received into the Church, according to the preaching of Paul, he must forsake all other Saviors for the Lord Jesus Christ….Amid the prevailing syncretism of the Greco-Roman world, the religion of Paul, with the religion of Israel, stands absolutely alone.”²’ This Christian exclusivism should be a starting point for all reflection about the possible relations between Christianity and its pagan competitors. Any hint of syncretism in the New Testament would have caused immediate controversy.

Mystery Religion Argument 6- Historicity

Unlike the mysteries, the religion of Paul was grounded on events that actually happened in history. The mysticism of the mystery cults was essentially nonhistorical. Their myths were dramas, or pictures, of what the initiate went through, not real historical events, as Paul regarded Christ’s death and resurrection to be. The Christian affirmation that the death and resurrection of Christ happened to a historical person at a particular time and place has absolutely no parallel in any pagan mystery religion.

Mystery Religion Argument 7- Influence in the Opposite Direction?

What few parallels may still remain may reflect a Christian influ­ence on the pagan systems. As Bruce Metzger has argued, “It must not be uncritically assumed that the Mysteries always influenced Christianity, for it is not only possible but probable that in certain cases, the influence moved in the opposite direction.”²² It should not be surprising that leaders of cults that were being successfully challenged by Christianity should do something to counter the challenge. What better way to do this than by offering a pagan substitute? Pagan attempts to counter the growing influence of Christianity by imitating it are clearly apparent in measures instituted by Julian the Apostate, who was the Roman emperor from A.D. 361 to 363.

Christian Rebirth and Cultic Initiation Rites

Liberal writings on the subject are full of sweeping generalizations to the effect that early Christianity borrowed its notion of rebirth from the pagan mysteries.¹⁹ But the evidence makes it clear that there was no pre-Christian doctrine of rebirth for the Christians to borrow. There are actually very few references to the notion of rebirth in the evidence that has survived, and even these are either very late or very ambiguous. They provide no help in settling the question of the source of the New Testament use of the concept. The claim that pre-Christian mysteries regarded their initiation rites as a kind of rebirth is unsupported by any evidence contemporary with such alleged practices. Instead, a view found in much later texts is read back into earlier rites, which are then interpreted quite speculatively as dramatic portrayals of the initiate’s “new birth.” The belief that pre-Christian mysteries used “rebirth” as a technical term lacks support from even one single text.

Initiation Rites- Any Connection to the New Testament?

Most contemporary scholars maintain that the mystery use of the concept of rebirth (testified to only in evidence dated after A.D. 300) differs so significantly from its New Testament usage that any possibility of a close link is ruled out. The most that such scholars are willing to concede is the possibility that some Christians borrowed the metaphor or imagery from the common speech of the time and recast it to fit their distinctive theological beliefs. So even if the metaphor of rebirth was Hellenistic, its content within Christianity was unique.²⁰

Jesus vs. the Mystery God- The Death of the Mystery Gods and the Death of Jesus

The best way to evaluate the alleged dependence of early Christian beliefs about Christ’s death and resurrection on the pagan myths of a dying and rising savior-god is to examine carefully the supposed parallels. The death of Jesus differs from the deaths of the pagan gods in at least six ways:

(1) None of the so-called savior-gods died for someone else. The notion of the Son of God dying in place of His creatures is unique to Christianity.¹³

(2) Only Jesus died for sin. As Günter Wagner observes, to none of the pagan gods “has the intention of helping men been attributed. The sort of death that they died is quite different (hunting accident, self-emasculation, etc.).”¹⁴

(3) Jesus died once and for all (Heb. 7:27; 9:25-28; 10:10-14). In contrast, the mystery gods were vegetation deities whose repeated deaths and resuscitations depict the annual cycle of nature.

(4) Jesus’ death was an actual event in history. The death of the mystery god appears in a mythical drama with no historical ties; its continued rehearsal celebrates the recurring death and rebirth of nature. The incontestable fact that the early church believed that its proclamation of Jesus’ death and resurrection was grounded in an actual historical event makes absurd any attempt to derive this belief from the mythical, nonhistorical stories of the pagan cults.¹⁵

(5) Unlike the mystery gods, Jesus died voluntarily. Nothing like this appears even implicitly in the mysteries.

(6) And finally, Jesus’ death was not a defeat but a triumph. Christianity stands entirely apart from the pagan mysteries in that its report of Jesus’ death is a message of triumph. Even as Jesus was experiencing the pain and humiliation of the cross, He was the victor. The New Testament’s mood of exultation contrasts sharply with that of the mystery religions, whose followers wept and mourned for the terrible fate that overtook their gods.¹⁶

Jesus vs. the Mystery God- The Risen Christ and the “Rising Savior-Gods”

Which mystery gods actually experienced a resurrection from the dead? Certainly no early texts refer to any resurrection of Attis. Nor is the case for a resurrection of Osiris any stronger. One can speak of a “resurrection” in the stories of Osiris, Attis, and Adonis only in the most extended of senses.¹⁷ For example, after Isis gathered together the pieces of Osiris’s dismembered body, Osiris became “Lord of the Underworld.” This is a poor substitute for a resurrection like that of Jesus Christ. And, no claim can be made that Mithras was a dying and rising god. The tide of scholarly opinion has turned dramatically against attempts to make early Christianity dependent on the so-called dying and rising gods of Hellenistic paganism.¹⁸ Any unbiased examination of the evidence shows that such claims must be rejected.

Pagan Ritual and the Christian Sacraments

The mere fact that Christianity has a sacred meal and a washing of the body is supposed to prove that it borrowed these ceremonies from similar meals and washings in the pagan cults. By themselves, of course, such outward similarities prove nothing. After all, religious ceremonies can assume only a limited number of forms, and they will naturally relate to important or common aspects of human life. The more important question is the meaning of the pagan practices. Ceremonial washings that antedate the New Testament have a different meaning from New Testament baptism, while pagan washings after A.D. 100 come too late to influence the New Testament and, indeed, might themselves have been influenced by Christianity.¹¹ Sacred meals in the pre-Christian Greek mysteries fail to prove anything since the chronology is all wrong. The Greek ceremonies that are supposed to have influenced first-century Christians had long since disappeared by the time we get to Jesus and Paul. Sacred meals in such post-Christian mysteries as Mithraism come too late.

Pagan Ritual- Influence on the Christian Sacraments?

Unlike the initiation rites of the mystery cults, Christian baptism looks back to what a real, historical person — Jesus Christ — did in history. Advocates of the mystery cults believed their “sacraments” had the power to give the individual the benefits of immortality in a mechanical or magical way, without his or her undergoing any moral or spiritual transformation. This certainly was not Paul’s view, either of salvation or of the operation of the Christian sacraments. In contrast with pagan initiation ceremonies, Christian baptism is not a mechanical or magical ceremony. It is clear that the sources of Christian baptism are not to be found either in the taurobolium (which is post first-century anyway) or in the washings of the pagan mysteries. Its sources lie rather in the washings of purification found in the Old Testament and in the Jewish practice of baptizing proselytes, the latter being the most likely source for the baptistic practices of John the Baptist.

Pagan Ritual- The Mithraic cult

Of all the mystery cults, only Mithraism had anything that resembled the Lord’s Supper. A piece of bread and a cup of water were placed before initiates while the priest of Mithra spoke some ceremonial words. But the late introduction of this ritual precludes its having any influence upon first-century Christianity.

Claims that the Lord’s Supper was derived from pagan sacred meals are grounded in exaggerations and oversimplifications. The supposed parallels and analogies break down completely.¹² Any quest for the historical antecedents of the Lord’s Supper is more likely to succeed if it stays closer to the Jewish foundations of the Christian faith than if it wanders off into the practices of the pagan cults. The Lord’s Supper looked back to a real, historical person and to something He did in history. The occasion for Jesus’ introduction of the Christian Lord’s Supper was the Jewish Passover feast. Attempts to find pagan sources for baptism and the Lord’s Supper must be judged to fail.

Mithraism

Attempts to reconstruct the beliefs and practices of Mithraism face enormous challenges because of the scanty information that has survived Proponents of the cult explained the world in terms of two ultimate and opposing principles, one good (depicted as light) and the other evil (darkness). Human beings must choose which side they will fight for; they are trapped in the conflict between light and darkness. Mithra came to be regarded as the most powerful mediator who could help humans ward off attacks from demonic forces.⁸

Mithraism- Influence on the New Testament?

The major reason why no Mithraic influence on first-century Christianity is possible is the timing: it’s all wrong! The flowering of Mithraism occurred after the close of the New Testament canon, much too late for it to have influenced anything that appears in the New Testament.⁹ Moreover, no monuments for the cult can be dated earlier than A.D. 90-100, and even this dating requires us to make some exceedingly generous assumptions. Chronological difficulties, then, make the possibility of a Mithraic influence on early Christianity extremely improbable. Certainly, there remains no credible evidence for such an influence.

The Taurobolium

The best-known rite of the cult of the Great Mother was the tauroboliurn. It is important to note, however, that this ritual was not part of the cult in its earlier stages. It entered the religion sometime after the middle of the second century A.D.

The Taurobolium- What Was It?

During the ceremony, initiates stood or reclined in a pit as a bull was slaughtered on a platform above them.⁶ The initiate would then be bathed in the warm blood of the dying animal. It has been alleged that the taurobolium was a source for Christian language about being washed in the blood of the lamb (Rev. 7:14) or sprinkled with the blood of Jesus (1 Pet. 1:2). It has also been cited as the source for Paul’s teaching in Romans 6:1-4, where he relates Christian baptism to the Christian’s identification with Christ’s death and resurrection.

The Taurobolium- Influence on the New Testament?

No notion of death and resurrection was ever part of the taurobolium, however. The best available evidence requires us to date the ritual about one hundred years after Paul wrote Romans 6:1-4. Not one existing text supports the claim that the taurobolium memorialized the death and “resurrection” of Attis. The pagan rite could not possibly have been the source for Paul’s teaching in Romans 6. Only near the end of the fourth century A.D. did the ritual add the notion of rebirth. Several important scholars see a Christian influence at work in this later development.⁷ It is clear, then, that the chronological development of the rite makes it impossible for it to have influenced first-century Christianity. The New Testament teaching about the shedding of blood should be viewed in the context of its Old Testament background — the Passover and the temple sacrifice.

The Cult of Cybele- Background

Cybele, also known as the Great Mother, was worshiped through much of the Hellenistic world. She undoubtedly began as a goddess of nature. Her early worship included orgiastic ceremonies in which her frenzied male worshipers were led to castrate themselves, following which they became “Galli” or eunuch-priests of the goddess. Cybele eventually came to be viewed as the Mother of all gods and the mistress of all life.

Most of our information about the cult describes its practices during its later Roman period. But the details are slim and almost all the source material is relatively late, certainly datable long after the close of the New Testament canon.

The Cult of Cybele- The Myth

According to myth, Cybele loved a shepherd named Attis. Because Attis was unfaithful, she drove him insane. Overcome by madness, Attis castrated himself and died. This drove Cybele into great mourning, and it introduced death into the natural world. But then Cybele restored Attis to life, an event that also brought the world of nature back to life.

The Cult of Cybele- Influence on the New Testament?

The presuppositions of the interpreter tend to determine the language used to describe what followed Attis’s death. Many writers refer carelessly to the “resurrection of Attis.” But surely this is an exaggeration. There is no mention of anything resembling a resurrection in the myth, which suggests that Cybele could only preserve Attis’s dead body. Beyond this, there is mention of the body’s hair continuing to grow, along with some movement of his little finger. In some versions of the myth, Attis’s return to life took the form of his being changed into an evergreen tree. Since the basic idea underlying the myth was the annual vegetation cycle, any resemblance to the bodily resurrection of Christ is greatly exaggerated.

Eventually a public rehearsal of the Attis myth became an annual event in which worshipers shared in Attis’s “immortality.” Each spring the followers of Cybele would mourn for the dead Attis in acts of fasting and flagellation.

It was only during the later Roman celebrations (after A.D. 300) of the spring festival that anything remotely connected with a “resurrection” appears. The pine tree symbolizing Attis was cut down and then carried corpse-like into the sanctuary. Later in the prolonged festival, the tree was buried while the initiates worked themselves into a frenzy that included gashing themselves with knives. The next night, the “grave” of the tree was opened and the “resurrection of Attis” was celebrated. But the language of these late sources is highly ambiguous. In truth, no clear-cut, unambiguous reference to the supposed “resurrection” of Attis appears, even in the very late literature from the fourth century after Christ.

The Cult of Isis- Background

The cult of Isis originated in Egypt and went through two major stages. In its older Egyptian version, which was not a mystery religion, Isis was regarded as the goddess of heaven, earth, the sea, and the unseen world below. In this earlier stage, Isis had a husband named Osiris. The cult of Isis became a mystery religion only after Ptolemy the First introduced major changes, sometime after 300 B.C. In the later stage, a new god named Serapis became Isis’s consort. Ptolemy introduced these changes in order to synthesize Egyptian and Greek concerns in his kingdom, thus hastening the Hellenization of Egypt.

From Egypt, the cult of Isis gradually made its way to Rome. While Rome was at first repelled by the cult, the religion finally entered the city during the reign of Caligula (A.D. 37-41). Its influence spread gradually during the next two centuries, and in some locales it became a major rival of Christianity. The cult’s success in the Roman Empire seems to have resulted from its impressive ritual and the hope of immortality offered to its followers.

The Cult of Isis- The Basic Myth

The basic myth of the Isis cult concerned Osiris, her husband during the earlier Egyptian and nonmystery stage of the religion. According to the most common version of the myth, Osiris was murdered by his brother who then sank the coffin containing Osiris’s body into the Nile river. Isis discovered the body and returned it to Egypt. But her brother-in-law once again gained access to the body, this time dismembering it into fourteen pieces which he scattered widely. Following a long search, Isis recovered each part of the body. It is at this point that the language used to describe what followed is crucial. Sometimes those telling the story are satisfied to say that Osiris came back to life, even though such language claims far more than the myth allows. Some writers go even further and refer to the alleged “resurrection” of Osiris. One liberal scholar illustrates how biased some writers are when they describe the pagan myth in Christian language: “The dead body of Osiris floated in the Nile and he returned to life, this being accomplished by a baptism in the waters of the Nile.”³

The Cult of Isis- Influencing the New Testament?

This biased and sloppy use of language suggests three misleading analogies between Osiris and Christ: (1) a savior god dies and (2) then experiences a resurrection accompanied by (3) water baptism. But the alleged similarities, as well as the language used to describe them, turn out to be fabrications of the modern scholar and are not part of the original myth. Comparisons between the resurrection of Jesus and the resuscitation of Osiris are greatly exaggerated.⁴ Not every version of the myth has Osiris returning to life; in some he simply becomes king of the underworld. Equally far-fetched are attempts to find an analogue of Christian baptism in the Osins myth.⁵ The fate of Osiris’s coffin in the Nile is as relevant to baptism as the sinking of Atlantis.

As previously noted, during its later mystery stage, the male deity of the Isis cult is no longer the dying Osiris but Serapis. Serapis is often portrayed as a sun god, and it is clear that he was not a dying god. Obviously then, neither could he be a rising god. Thus, it is worth remembering that the post-Ptolemaic mystery version of the Isis cult that was in circulation from about 300 B.C. through the early centuries of the Christian era had absolutely nothing that could resemble a dying and rising savior-god.

At the beginning of the Christian era, Alexandria, Egypt — an important center of the Jewish Dispersion — had become the chief center of Hellenistic thought. The large colony of Jews who claimed Alexandria as their home became Hellenized in both language and culture. While still observing their Jewish faith, they translated their Scriptures into the Greek language (the Septuagint). This tended to increase their cultural isolation from their Hebrew roots because they now had even less incentive to remain fluent in the Hebrew language. Given the intellectual interests of the Alexandrian Jews, it was only natural that the arrival of such philosophical systems as Platonism and Stoicism in Alexandria would eventually affect them. The greatest of the Alexandrian Jewish intellectuals was Philo Judeaus, who lived from about 25 B.C. to about A.D. 50. Philo’s work illustrates many of the most important elements of the synthesis of Platonism and Stoicism that came to dominate Hellenistic philosophy during and after his lifetime. He is the best example of how intellectual Jews of the Dispersion, isolated from Palestine and their native culture, allowed Hellenistic influences to shape their theology and philosophy.¹⁸ Philo has become famous for his use of the term logos.¹⁹ It is impossible, however, to find any clear or consistent use of the word in his many writings. For example, he used the word to refer to Plato’s ideal world of the forms,²⁰ to the mind of God, and to a principle that existed somewhere between the realms of God and creation. At other times, he applied logos to any of several mediators between God and man, such as the angels, Moses, Abraham, and even the Jewish high priest. But putting aside his lack of clarity and consistency, his use of logos has raised questions about a possible influence of Alexandrian Judaism on such New Testament writings as John’s Gospel and the Book of Hebrews. Sixty years ago, the view that the writer of the fourth Gospel was influenced by Philo’s use of logos was something of an official doctrine in certain circles.²¹ With few exceptions, however, the drift of scholarship has been away from Philo as a source for John’s Logos doctrine. But as happens so often, news of this change in scholarly opinion was slow in reaching some. And so, John Herman Randall, Jr., wrote in 1970 that “in his Prologue about the Word, the Logos, [John] is adopting Philo Judaeus’ earlier Platonization of the Hebraic tradition.”²² And in his history of philosophy textbook that is still widely used, even in some evangelical colleges, W. T. Jones claims that the “mysticism of the Fourth Gospel was grounded in the Platonism of Hellenistic Alexandria.”²³ Most contemporary New Testament scholars see no need to postulate a conscious relationship between Philo (or Alexandrian Judaism) and the New Testament use of logos. They point out that alongside the philosophical and Philonic views of logos, there were two similar but independent notions in the Judaism of the time. One of these was a pre-Christian Jewish speculation about a personified Wisdom that appears in Proverbs 8:22-26.²⁴ Other scholars advance a different theory that sees a connection between the New Testament use of logos and such Old Testament expressions as “The Word of God” and “The Word of the Lord.” In many Old Testament passages, such expressions suggest an independent existence and personification of the Word of God.²⁵ These two lines of thought may have merit and the reader is encouraged to examine them more fully. However, for a number of years I have been recommending a different approach to the problem, one that recognizes a possible link between the implicit Logos-Christology²⁶ of the Book of Hebrews and the Prologue to John’s Gospel. In Chapter 6 of my book, The Gospel and the Greeks, I explore a number of fascinating connections between the author of the Book of Hebrews (whom I take to be Apollos) and Alexandrian Judaism. I point to indications that the author of Hebrews may have been an Alexandrian Jew trained in Philo’s philosophy prior to his Christian conversion. His purpose in writing Hebrews was to warn other members of his community of converted Hellenistic Jews against an apostasy that would result in their rejecting Christ and returning to their former beliefs. In the course of his message, the writer (Apollos?) argues that since Christ is a better Logos (or mediator) than any of the mediators available to them in their former beliefs,²⁷ a return to the inferior mediators of their past would make no sense. If the argument in my book is correct, then several interesting possibilities open up. For one thing, the author of Hebrews (whoever he may be) deserves the title of the first Christian philosopher, since he was clearly trained in the details of Alexandrian philosophy. But the writer of Hebrews does not use this philosophical background to introduce Alexandrian philosophy into Christian thinking; rather he uses Christian thinking to reject his former views. Furthermore, this reading of Hebrews points to the existence of a Christian community that had a highly developed Logos Christology. But their application of the concept of logos to Jesus Christ did not amount to an introduction of pagan thinking into Christianity. On the contrary, their Christian use of Logos was developed in conscious opposition to every relevant aspect of Philo’s philosophy. Once this possibility is recognized, the proper source of John’s use of logos in John 1:1-14 may reflect his own contact with the thought of this community of converted Hellenistic Jews. Wholly apart from my own speculation on this matter, Philo’s Logos could not possibly function as a direct influence on the biblical concept of Logos.²⁸ (1) Philo’s Logos-Mediator was a metaphysical abstraction while the Logos of the New Testament is a specific, individual, historical person. Philo’s Logos is not a person or messiah or savior but a cosmic principle, postulated to solve various philosophical problems. (2) Given Philo’s commitment to Platonism and its disparagement of the body as a tomb of the soul, Philo could never have believed in anything like the Incarnation. Philo’s God could never make direct contact with matter. But the Jesus described in Hebrews not only becomes man but participates in a full range of all that is human, including temptation to sin. Philo would never have tolerated such thinking. (3) Philo’s Logos could never be described as the Book of Hebrews pictures Jesus: suffering, being tempted to sin, and dying. (4) The repeated stress in Hebrews of Jesus’ compassionate concern for His brethren (i.e., Christians) is incompatible with Philo’s view of the emotions. Philo was influenced by the Stoic disparagement of emotion, and it is clear that he views the attainment of apathy (freedom from passion, emotion, and affection) as a much more important achievement than sympathy and compassion. Readers may pursue these matters more fully in the works cited in the sidebar (“Suggested Reading”), and in the hundreds of works cited in the bibliographies in those books. The purpose of this article has been merely to introduce the reader to the fact that over the past century, various writers have attempted to undermine the authority of the New Testament by affirming that some of its teachings were borrowed from pagan philosophical systems of the day. A careful study of this issue reveals this claim to be false. Perhaps the most serious question still remaining is what we should think of the scholarship of authors and professors who continue to make these long-discredited claims.

Dr. Ronald Nash is Professor of Philosophy at Reformed Theological Seminary-Orlando. The latest of his 25 books are Beyond Liberation Theology (Baker), World-Views in Conflict (Zondervan), and Great Divides (NavPress).

NOTES

¹ An essential Christian belief is one which, if false, would falsify the historic Christian faith. For example, if either the incarnation or the atonement or the resurrection of Jesus should turn out to be false, the Christian faith as it has been known from its inception would be false. ² See Edwin A. Burtt, Types of Religious Philosophy, rev. ed. (New York: Harper, 1951), 35-36. ³ See W. T. Jones, The Medieval Mind (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1969), Chapters One and Two. ⁴ See Thomas W. Africa, The Ancient World (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1969), 460. See also Thomas W. Africa, The Immense Majesty: A History of Rome and the Roman Empire (New York: Crowell, 1974), 340-42. ⁵ In its most narrow sense, the adjective “Hellenistic” is applied to the period of history between the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C. and the Roman conquest of the last major vestige of Alexander’s empire, the Egypt of Cleopatra in 30 B.C. But in a broader sense, the term refers to the whole culture of the Roman Empire. While Rome achieved military and political supremacy throughout the Mediterranean world, it adopted the culture of the Hellenistic world that preceded Rome’s rise to power. ⁶ See Ronald H. Nash, The Gospel and the Greeks (Richardson, TX: Probe Books, 1992). ⁷ For more on this, see Gordon H. Clark, Thales to Dewey (Jefferson, MD: Trinity, 1989), 210-17. ⁸ See George Holley Gilbert, Greek Thought in the New Testament (New York: Macmillan, 1928), 85-86. ⁹ See William Fairweather, Jesus and the Greeks (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1924), 290. ¹⁰ Clark, 192. ¹¹ J. Gresham Machen, The Origin of Paul’s Religion (New York: Macmillan, 1925), 275-76. ¹² See Gilbert, 86-87. ¹³ Clark, 193. ¹⁴ John Herman Randall, Jr., Hellenistic Ways of Deliverance and the Making of the Christian Synthesis (New York: Columbia University Press, 1970), 155. ¹⁵ Fairweather, 296. ¹⁶ See J. B. Lightfoot, “St. Paul and Seneca,” in J. B. Lightfoot, St. Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians (1913; reprint, Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1953), 270-333. Lightfoot argues against the possibility of a Stoic influence in this old essay. His polemic serves as an example of the importance once attributed to such views. ¹⁷ Clark, 191. ¹⁸ For more details, see Clark, 195-210 and Nash, Chapters 5-6. ¹⁹ The Greek word logos was a technical term in several ancient philosophical systems. Its philosophic usage goes back to Heraclitus (about 500 B.C.). It was then used by the Stoics, several hundred years later, some of whom influenced Philo. ²⁰ For an explanation of Plato’s theory of the forms, see Nash, Chapter 2. ²¹ Typical of these older works is G. H. C. MacGregor and A. C. Purdy, Jew and Greek (London: Nicholson & Watson, 1937), 337ff. ²² Randall, 157. ²³ Jones, 52. ²⁴ For more on this, see Nash, 84-86. ²⁵ See Nash, 86-88 and James D. G. Dunn, Christology in the Making (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1963), 218.²⁶ When I say that the Logos-Christology of Hebrews is implicit, I am really making two points: (1) the Christology of Hebrews relates Jesus Christ to a Logos-concept that does have affinities to things the writer could have learned from Philo; (2) but since the term Logos is not actually applied to Jesus in Hebrews, it is implicit in the sense that it must be derived from a careful examination of the author’s language. That is, a number of very special Greek words that Philo applied to his Logos are used by the writer of Hebrews to describe Jesus. See Chapter 6 of my Gospel and the Greeks. ²⁷ To restate a point made earlier, Philo applied the term logos to all of the following: the angels, Moses, Abraham, and the Levitical high priest. It should be noted that the author of Hebrews argues that Jesus is better than each of these. ²⁸ The points that follow are perfectly consistent with my theory that Christian Hellenists advanced their view of the Logos in conscious opposition to Philo’s system.