Judas Scam Continues to Unravel

Get Religion points us to an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education which drives yet another nail into the coffin of the infamous "Gospel of Judas" scam perpetrated by the National Geographic Society two years ago.

What National Geographic had bought access to was more like a puzzle than a book. As one scholar explains it, imagine that you have 10 pieces of paper with writing on both sides. Now take those 10 pages and tear them up into tiny pieces. Then get rid of, say, a third of those pieces. Take what's left, place it in a shoebox, and shake it. Now try to reconstruct the original 10 pages, keeping in mind that the fragile pieces must match on both sides. Much of that tedious work fell to Gregor Wurst, a professor of ecclesiastical history and patristics at the University of Augsburg, in Germany, who, with his large, round glasses and precise manner of speaking, seems like exactly the right person for the task.

Wurst was a member of what the documentary referred to as a "dream team" of biblical scholars. Another member was Bart Ehrman, a professor of religious studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and author of several best-selling books including, most recently, God's Problem (HarperOne, 2008), which questions how a loving God could permit human suffering. Ehrman is one of those rare scholars who has managed to parlay his expertise into mainstream success. He's good on TV.

Ehrman was among the first to be contacted by National Geographic. It was, as he recalls, an odd conversation. He had to explain that, in order to translate the Coptic, the organization would need to hire a Coptologist, which he is not. That Coptologist would turn out to be Marvin Meyer, who was hired after someone from National Geographic heard him speak at a conference. Also brought on board was Elaine H. Pagels, a professor of religion at Princeton University and the kind of academic celebrity who gets asked what's in her fridge by The New York Times Magazine.

It all happened in record time. In the cases of other newly discovered ancient texts, the process of translation and interpretation has dragged on for years. But it was only about eight months from the time Marvin Meyer was brought on that the gospel was announced to the public.

Before that big announcement, some members of the team were sent to a one-day media-training seminar in Manhattan to prepare them for the coming onslaught of attention. They would have to explain to reporters, repeatedly, that the Gospel of Judas was probably written in the second century, long after the actual Judas was dead. There is no scholarly debate over whether the conversations in the gospel actually took place. Everyone agrees that it's fiction, but it's fiction that reveals how a certain sect of Christians viewed the meaning of the crucifixion and the role of Jesus' disciples.

In the Gospel of Judas, the character of Judas is more prominent than he is in the New Testament. He and Jesus discuss theological matters, like the meaning of baptism and whether the human spirit dies. Perhaps the most striking aspect of the text is Jesus himself, who is often laughing, playful, and aggressive and who seems to enjoy mocking his disciples. For those familiar with the Jesus taught in Sunday school, that may come as a jolt.

One of the questions the National Geographic team was asked most frequently was "Is it the real thing?" — which, of course, depends on what you mean by "real" and "thing." The manuscript is real in the sense that it's not a fake. And it does appear to be the Gospel of Judas referred to in the writings of one early church father. But it is not a journalistic account of conversations between Jesus and his disciples, nor could it have been written by the historical Judas. That message didn't always come through: Some of the news reports read as if the gospel came straight from Judas' pen.

The announcement was timed so that the documentary, a book containing the translation and critical essays, an accompanying Web site, and an exhibit at National Geographic's headquarters would all be unveiled more or less simultaneously. By keeping the translation under wraps, National Geographic had cornered the market on Judas, and now it intended to take full advantage of its position.

As with all similar "discoveries" which the media have hyped as serious challenges to traditional Christianity, this one has turned out to be nothing more than a cheap, and poorly planned, publicity stunt.