The Gospel of Mary Magdalene
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You may refrain from stealing.
The deeper meaning of this is about greed. Can we not be happy with what comes to us, instead of wanting what others have? Chapter 20 of Exodus elaborates further: You can be free from desiring your neighbor’s house, wife, servants, cow, or donkey. You can be free of all desire for that which belongs to your neighbor. Moses shows no lack of imagination here—and, like the Teacher, an incredible optimism in the faith that some day human beings will not only be capable of refraining from theft, but from desire and envy!
This presupposes a true metanoia, a transformation of consciousness. It demands that human beings find within themselves the Source of true happiness and satisfaction, so that there is no longer any pressure that might foster envy or the desire to steal. It implies a return to one’s true center, the divine I AM, the source of all value. It is also the source of an abundant energy that empowers us to work effectively, not only for our own needs, but for those of others.
But human beings are capable of much more than freedom from greed and theft—they are also capable of sharing and giving. It is no accident that those who harbor envy and greed are so rarely happy and that the only authentic smiles we still can find in this world are from those who give and share. By reminding us of this evolutionary potential, Moses and Yeshua after him are also inviting us to live with greater joy and less sadness. What more can be added to this?
You may refrain from bearing false witness against your neighbor.
The deeper meaning of these words is this: You have the capacity to stop all your lying. But this implies a highly evolved state of consciousness. It means that we no longer dwell in our projections, that we see others as they are, without adding or subtracting anything.
What is, is. What is not, is not. This teaching of Yeshua is also found in other traditions.70 Anything added to this is “of the Devil”—some would translate this as “of the Liar,” others as “of the discursive mind.” This enjoins us to see things as they are, without ulterior motives, without self-deception, without discursive thought . . . but is this really possible? If so, then it can be only when we are able to look at someone or something with total innocence—without the summation of our accumulated memories or the projection of memory, and therefore judgment.
Is not this innocence of regard the same as that of a pure and peaceful heart? The ancient sages said that we shall be judged by the regard of a child. Unfortunately, not all children have such total innocence. From birth on, their regard is loaded and conditioned by memories—perhaps through the genetic code itself. Hence their regard already may be some what mentally loaded—certainly with less baggage than that of most adults, but with baggage nonetheless.
Perhaps only those who have encountered the regard of a saint or a sage, totally free of all projections, know what it really means to be capable of not bearing false witness. We have been seeing others and ourselves through perceptions based on lies. In regarding others, the number of mental associations from the past varies greatly among us—sometimes we may feel a certain richness in such memories, yet it is this very richness that often prevents us from simply seeing others, from seeing what is.
One of the Teacher’s closest companions said: “We shall see God as he Is, for we shall have become like unto him.”71
As God Is—not as we think of, imagine, or represent God. We can see only that which we are like. To know both the Divine and the human as they truly are is to become like unto both. There is nothing to be added to this.
The entire Torah of Moses can be summarized in this great exercise that the Teacher reminds us of:
You shall love the Lord your God
with all your heart, with all your strength,
and with all your mind.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself. 72
When was it that someone told us this means, “You must love”? Since when have we been able to love on command? When we accepted such a command, we became as hypocritical as it is possible for a human to be. The teaching of love has never been you must, you should. The teaching has always been you can—you can love, you shall love, not only with all your heart, but also with all your mind and strength. You can love with all your being, rediscovering in this very act of love your own wholeness, your own divine-human nature.
There is no obligation here—and that is what is so difficult for us. The only thing that YHWH cannot do is oblige us to love. Love cannot be forced, but only aroused, called by desire.
This is why Emmanuel (meaning “God with us”) is the very desire we feel for him, this desire to love him with all our intelligence, feeling, and force. And it is why Emmanuel is also the desire to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Finally, it is only through knowing the love of God that we are able truly to love ourselves.
There is in us this potential and this longing to love the other as YHWH loves the other, this longing to allow I AM to love us and to allow ourselves to love one another. As that great dreamer, Paul of Tarsus, said, after being blinded by the clear light on that famous road to Damascus: May God become the all in All.73 There is nothing to be added to this. To elaborate upon such words is to detract from them. Yet in the place of this great law of life, we have substituted all sorts of little rules, conventions, and contraventions that poison life, corrupt desire, and grieve the holy Breath. This is why the Teacher warned us to “impose no law”—that is, “do not impose the projections of your individual ego or of the collective ego of society . . . other than that which I have witnessed” (other than the Torah, and the love, intelligence, and freedom that Yeshua embodied). Do not add to what Moses was able to transmit, for there is nothing to be added to it.
Do not become the slaves of the laws you have imposed upon yourselves and upon others. Neither become the slaves of the laws written in your very genes and flesh, for you were created to evolve, to advance not toward that sterile, negative void, but toward the divine and fertile emptiness.
You can dwell in openness, an opening of spirit, heart, and body wherein the holy Breath rejoices. Dwell in freedom even as I dwell in freedom. I am with you unto the end of the worlds.74 I AM.
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5 Having said all this, he departed.
6 The disciples were in sorrow,
7 shedding many tears, and saying:
8 “How are we to go among the unbelievers
9 and announce the gospel of the Kingdom of the Son of Man?
10 They did not spare his life,
11 so why should they spare ours?”
This reaction of the disciples to the departure of the Teacher shows that his peace had not become established in them, that his teachings had not yet been fully integrated, and that fear and loss were still basic, unhappy constituents of their emotional nature.
The “old man” of whom Paul speaks is still active in them. Yeshua’s information has not yet become transformation. Yet surely it is only human, a natural reaction of any psychic being, to shed tears at the departure of a friend.
Nevertheless, the Gospel of Mary seems to be telling us that there is something other than human nature at work in the disciples, which affects their motivation. They are afraid to announce the Good News to unbelievers, afraid of being persecuted as the Teacher was persecuted. It is from this fear that he desired to free them when he said, “Walk forth, those persecuted for justice’s sake!”75
In the light of Pneuma, the spiritual Reality in which Yeshua was inviting the disciples to live, persecution becomes an opportunity for growth in consciousness and love. This seems to have escaped most of hem, but it certainly does not escape the one whom they have tended to regard as a “weak woman.” In the hour of adversity, Miriam of Magdala proves herself to have the most strength, faith, endurance, resolution, and hope in her suffering of the crucifixion of their master and friend.
Mark, Matthew, and the other evangelists make a point of noting the continued presence of women at Golgotha, long after the men h
ad fled:
Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs.
Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of Zebedee’s sons. 76
Are men less courageous than women? Perhaps they have less fear of death, but more fear of suffering? There are no simple answers to this. Yet it is worth noting that it is often mostly women who are present in great moments of life such as this, at deathbed and at birth. Husbands and fathers are more often absent. Surely this should not be seen as desertion (of which they are sometimes accused), but rather as an indication of the great difficulty that the masculine mind (and some feminine minds as well) experiences when it feels powerless in the face of a suffering that it can neither combat nor alleviate. If there were only something to do, some action to be taken, some arms or tools to be used, the masculine mind could tell itself that man was more useful and effective.
The feminine mind (and again, this includes some men as well) surely has an advantage when it comes to dealing with this feeling of powerlessness and uselessness in the face of certain kinds of suffering. It is more capable of simply being present and bearing witness in patience and compassion—for this is a different kind of usefulness and power, one that is closer to the world of Pneuma of which Yeshua himself was the Witness.
We must also remember that for Peter, James, John, and the other disciples, going among the unbelievers also meant rubbing shoulders with the goyim, the pagans and heretics, the impure. For pious and faithful Jews, this was not only disagreeable, it also implied a kind of renunciation of an elect status. But the Teacher had shown them that the divine lineage was not the exclusive privilege of a specific people, but of all those who dare to open their minds and hearts to the teachings of the Living One.
For Peter, a great vision was needed for him to understand that “God does not show favoritism, but welcomes those of every nation who do what is right and who seek and love him.”77
The next day, as they approached the city, Peter went up to the rooftop about the sixth hour, in order to pray.
He felt hungry and asked for something to eat, but as his food was being prepared he fell into ecstasy. He saw the sky open up and an object like a huge cloth being lowered to earth by its four corners. Inside the cloth were all sorts of four-footed animals, reptiles, and all kind of birds of the air.
A voice then spoke: “Get up, Peter. Sacrifice, and eat.”
But Peter replied, “But no, Lord, I have never eaten anything so dirty and impure.”
Again, the voice spoke: “Do not call impure what God has purified.” This was said three times, and the object was then carried back to the sky.
Greatly perplexed, Peter was wondering what this vision could mean, when at that moment some men sent by Cornelius arrived at his house. They inquired of those below if this was indeed the house of Simon, known as Peter, and asked if he were there.
While he was still reflecting upon his vision, the Spirit said to him: “Three men are here looking for you. Go downstairs and go with them with no misgivings, for it is I who have sent them.”
Peter went down to them and said: “I am the man you are looking for. Why have you come to me?”
They answered: “The centurion Cornelius, a just and God-fearing man, respected by all Jews, has been told by a holy angel to bring you to his house so he may hear your words.”
Then Peter bade them enter, and gave them hospitality.
The next day he went off with them, accompanied by some of the brothers from Joppa. They arrived at Caesarea the following day. Cornelius was waiting for them, along with his family and close friends. He began to kneel down and bow, but Peter said: “Stand up. I am only a man myself.”
As he came into the room, talking to Cornelius, he saw that there were many people gathered there, and said to them:
“You are well aware that it is against our law for a Jew to visit and associate with Gentiles like this. But God has shown me that I should not call any person impure or unclean.”78
So we see that the disciples are being asked to overcome this prohibition and thereby renounce their status of being in the elect. For the male religious mind, this is not an easy thing to do.
At this point, we need to clarify the meaning of the word elect, for this has been used not only to apply to the Jews as “chosen people,” but also by Christians, and centuries later, by Moslems as well. Today there is still no lack of groups who make this claim, calling themselves “the last of the just,” “the new and final chosen ones,” “the born-again,” and so forth.
What does it mean to be “chosen?” This recalls the story of the old rabbi who said, “God chose us because we were the least spiritual, the most wanton and stubborn of peoples, stiff-necked and slow to believe. So if we are the elect, then other groups must be even more so, if they are less proud and slow to believe than we are.”
The rabbi’s words echo those of Paul of Tarsus: “If God has chosen me, a persecutor and a criminal, then certainly he has chosen you, who have not killed and persecuted.” We could go even further back to David, the messiah-king, to find yet another example. Was he not an adulterer and criminal who sent Uriah to die because he wanted Uriah’s wife, Bathsheba, even though he already had a large harem of concubines?79
God does not choose us as a people or as individuals because of our worthiness, but because of an overflowing of love that transcends our simple human ethics without denying them. In exactly that area where we feel most condemned by human judgment, there appears another resource, a different kind of conscience, which knows us as we are, however sordid or pleasant the appearances.
But the words elect or chosen are not always understood in this sense, and this has unfortunately given rise to an interpretation tainted by arrogance of the elect toward those who are not of the chosen group. This is clearly the basis of Yeshua’s critique of those with whom he shared the same lineage, traditions, and faith. Just as he could be so kind to those whom Jews called “sinners,” he could be very harsh with the self-righteous: “You believe yourselves righteous among men, but YHWH, the One Who Is, knows your hearts. That which men hold supreme is an abomination in the Presence of YHWH, the One Who Is.”80
These words recall the famous story of the Pharisee and the tax-collector:
Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector.
The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, “God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.
I fast twice a week, and I give tithes of all that I get.”
But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!”
I tell you, it is this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted. 81
Yet we might sometimes be tempted to reverse things for the contemporary scene, where there are now so many who stand at a distance and beat their breasts loudly for their sins in order to display their humility and make themselves feel better—Pharisees wearing the masks of tax collectors!
At any rate, we can see that the disciples as portrayed in the Gospel of Mary have not yet found the peace and freedom of the Son of Man within themselves. They are not yet able to walk forth and announce his gospel to all. They fear suffering at some level, whether of body, mind, or reputation. But the Teacher has already foreseen the trials of his disciples:
If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you....
Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.
When a woman is in labor she has sorrow, because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish,
for joy that a human being [Anthropos] has been born into the world. 82
It is Miriam of Magdala who serves the disciples as a midwife, not of body or soul, but of that eternal Son whose Presence seeks to reveal itself in the very heart of that which trembles most within them.
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12 Then Mary arose,
13 embraced them all, and began to speak to her brothers:
14 “Do not remain in sorrow and doubt,
15 for his Grace will guide you and comfort you.”
As her brothers despair, Mary rises (anastasis in the Greek). It was she who had first seen Christ himself risen from the dead, and his strength so fills her that she is able to console and warmly embrace them all. Her tears and tenderness are not reserved for her beloved apart from others, for this love knows no exclusion and is offered in purity of heart to be shared by all. This demonstrates a simplicity of contact and relationship that is typical of the earliest Christian communities. In their sharing of faith, their memories of Yeshua and his teachings, and their very bread, they include the body in a non-dualistic vision of oneness with the living Christ.
“Do not remain in sorrow and doubt . . .”
A more literal translation might be “Do not be sad, and do not have a divided heart.”83As in other gospels, sadness and doubt imply indecision, the hesitation that weakens and destroys faith.84 Those of divided heart and mind live in a duality that can lead to a kind of schizophrenia or internal split—actions are in conflict with words, words with thoughts, and thoughts with desires. Their desires no longer express their being, and that being is estranged from its source in Being. Once again harmony is shattered and there is anguish and war between the human being and his or her self-image.
“Let man not separate what God has united.” This theme, which recurs often in early Christian texts before Constantine, urges us not to live in the torments of dipsukia (duplicity of soul). When we are able to see opposites as complementary we have taken a step toward oneness with the Son, or if you prefer, toward true maturity.85