The Apocryphal Gospels_A Very Short Introduction
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The lack of a complete surviving Latin manuscript may initially seem odd, but a number of factors account for this. It is almost certain that the Protevangelium of James did exist at some stage in Latin translation. Some Latin fragments of similar traditions have been identified as the remains of a manuscript of this text (although this is contested), but more importantly the fact that it was known to the compiler of the Gelasian Decree also strongly suggests the existence of a Latin version. The Decree, written no earlier than the 5th century, contains lists of accepted and rejected writings, among which is listed in the apocryphal category, and hence to be rejected, a work described as the ‘book of the nativity of the saviour and of Mary or the midwife’. This description aligns closely with the contents of the Protevangelium of James, and consequently there is good reason to suspect the same text is being described.
Given the probable existence of this text in Latin, its disappearance can be attributed to two factors. First, much of its content seems to have been absorbed into larger expanded versions of infancy and childhood compilations of stories such as The Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew, The Life of Joseph the Carpenter, and The Gospel of the Birth of Mary. Yet a more fundamental reason for the loss of the Latin textual tradition was because in the Western Church the text was deemed to be suspect because of its teaching about Joseph’s first marriage. As certain sections of the Church became fixated on virginity as a spiritual discipline and a purer state of being, not only was it necessary to present Mary as a perpetual virgin – a key concern of the Protevangelium – but the perpetual virginity of Joseph was also asserted. Since the storyline of the Protevangelium presented Joseph as an elderly widower with surviving children, this text became highly problematic in the Latin Church. However, within the orthodox tradition the perpetual virginity of Joseph did not feature as a doctrinal concern. Consequently, the text circulated widely and shaped orthodox beliefs, as is attested by the wealth of surviving manuscripts.
Outline of the text
The text, in its current form, can be divided into three major sections which refer to separate though related phases in the life of Mary, together with a brief epilogue giving details of the pseudonymous author.
It is only in the third section that the text overlaps with the versions of the nativity and infancy stories found in the gospels of Matthew and Luke. The material in the first two sections of the Protevangelium of James is a mix of legendary details and pious theologizing. There is little in this text that can be seen as describing historically the actual events it purports to report. Instead its historical value arises from the way it provides a reflection of the religious and social context which enabled such a text to be written, read, and circulated. Its concerns surrounding the cult of virginity, the attitude that incredible miracles commended rather than hindered belief, and the devotion to Mary are all in accord with the wider tastes of many Christians from the late 2nd century onwards.
Section 1: Prot. Jas. 1.1–8.2
Within the opening section, there is a description of Mary’s conception, birth, and significant life events until her adolescence. The devices used to ‘prove’ that Mary had not been tainted by the impurity of her parents’ sexual union stand very much at the foreground of the concerns of this text. While similar perspectives are present in the canonical stories of the birth of Jesus, the degree of elaboration and intricacy is much less pronounced in the accounts written by Matthew and Luke. Obviously by the time the Protevangelium was written, there was a much greater interest in
9. Marian piety resulted in scenes from Mary’s childhood as related in the Protoevangelium of James being depicted in art. This example is by Albrecht Dürer, Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple (1502–3)
the virginal state. One striking feature of the opening section is the way the narrative is based on Old Testament stories of barren couples miraculously conceiving. The two most famous examples are the story of Abraham and Sarah’s conception of Isaac, and the birth of the prophet Samuel to his barren mother Hannah. While elements of the Abraham–Sarah story can be detected in the Protevangelium, without doubt it is the story of Hannah conceiving Samuel that shapes the legend of the birth of Mary.
To recap that story (1 Sam. 1–2), the barren Hannah is married to Elkanah, who also has another wife, Peninnah, who has borne him many children. Peninnah is described as Hannah’s rival. During the annual family pilgrimage to the temple-shrine in Shiloh, the priest Eli promises that her prayer for a child will be answered. The promise comes to fruition, and after the boy Samuel is weaned, Hannah deposits him in the temple in accordance with her vow. Hannah sings a song of praise to the Lord as an outpouring of her sense of blessing. Samuel becomes a figure of purity in the Shiloh temple, contrasting with the venial behaviour of Eli’s own sons.
When compared with this story, the similarities of the Protevangelium become immediately apparent. The name of the barren woman who will give birth to Mary is Anna. In Greek there is no ‘h’ sound, so when the story of 1 Samuel is translated into the Greek version of the Old Testament known as the Septuagint, the Hebrew name Hannah is written as ‘′Anna’. Both women are barren; where Hannah is tormented by Elkanah’s other wife, Anna is mocked by her servant Juthine. This may be a detail which is also related to the way that Sarah is mocked by her maidservant Hagar. Anna sings two songs in the opening section. The first is a lament, totally different in tone to Hannah’s joyful song. Yet later Anna sings her second song in the narrative, no longer of mourning but an outpouring of praise. Here is the more direct parallel to the song of Hannah contained in 1 Samuel 2, and simultaneously the counterpoint to Anna’s own earlier lament (Prot. Jas. 3.2–8). There is little doubt that the author of the Protevangelium, in light of the absence of historical source material for the birth of Mary, chose to give his narrative a biblical flavour by basing it on the story of Samuel’s birth.
The text of the Protevangelium commences with a description of Anna’s husband, Joachim, an Israelite, whose piety and prosperity are exemplified by his gift offerings to the Lord. On an unspecified festival day, Joachim is prevented from presenting his offering first by a slightly officious individual called Reubel. Aside from his name, nothing is known of Reubel apart from his protest, ‘you are not allowed to offer your gifts first because you have not produced an Israelite child’ (Prot. Jas. 1.5). Joachim consults a work or record known as The Twelve Tribes of the People and discovers that all the righteous members of Israel indeed produced offspring. From frustration and bewilderment he retires to the desert, fasting ‘forty days and forty nights’, and determines ‘not to go back to food or drink until the Lord my God appears to me’ (Prot. Jas. 1.11). This creates tension in the narrative, with readers wondering how such an ultimatum will be resolved. However, at virtually the same point in the story as Anna receives an angelic visitation telling her she will conceive, she is also informed that her husband has received a similar vision and is returning home. The text is surprisingly restrained at this point in reporting Joachim’s vision second-hand, rather than giving a dramatic account of the events as they supposedly transpired. During this angelic report to Anna of the vision seen by her husband, the actual words spoken to Joachim are recounted.
Here there is a fascinating textual problem. Some manuscripts read ‘behold your wife Anna has conceived in the womb’, while others state, ‘behold your wife Anna will conceive in the womb’. If the future tense were to be preferred, then the note in 4.10 that ‘Joachim rested the first day at home’ could be read euphemistically as the time when the predictive promise was brought to fruition. The textual evidence, however, appears to favour the perfect tense, since the earlier Greek manuscripts contain this reading. This would then imply that Anna was already pregnant, miraculously, by the time Joachim arrived home. Such a reading would align with the piety of this document which goes to extraordinary lengths to affirm Mary’s purity. It would be strange if its author had allowed the heroine of his story to be tainted with car
nal concupiscence. Hence, in this text it is possible to see the emergence of a theology of the immaculate conception of Mary, although it is not framed in such theologically developed terms.
Folkloric elements punctuate the remainder of the first section after Anna gives birth to Mary. The text recounts the lengths to which Anna goes to preserve ritual purity for Mary. This includes not allowing her to walk on common ground (6.3), transforming the girl’s bedroom into a sanctuary (6.4), and engaging ‘undefiled’ Hebrew females to entertain the infant Mary. Such tropes are not uncommon in the legends of the childhood years of sacred figures. The act of handing Mary over to the temple is reported in a highly liturgical fashion with processions and acts of devotion to the young girl. Undefiled Hebrew women are summoned to form a lamp-lit procession accompanying Mary so her heart will not be ‘captivated by things outside the temple’ (7.5). The priest kisses and blesses Mary on her arrival (7.7). She is sat on the third step of the altar, she dances in the temple and is the darling of the people of Israel (7.9–10). She is fed directly from the hand of an angel (8.2). Such characterization presents Mary in a manner that approaches that of a goddess being venerated in her own sacred shrine. Yet this situation of blissful veneration of childhood innocence is problematized as Mary approaches her adolescence.
Section 2: Prot. Jas. 8.3–16.8
The narrative sets up another tension to progress the storyline. Governed by the Levitical laws, the priests in the temple are aware that with Mary approaching puberty her menstrual flows will defile the sanctuary (this is based on stipulations in the Old Testament, Lev. 12.1–6; 18.19). Fortunately, in this text angels are ever present to help out pious humans confronted by tricky religious conundrums! The angel informs the high priest that he is to assemble the widowers of the people and Mary will be married off to whichever one is identified with a miraculous sign. Among the assembled widowers is Joseph. Presumably the choice of widowers is meant to signal to readers that the men in question are beyond the stage of sexual desire. A dove lands on Joseph’s head and this is taken as being the promised divine sign. Joseph attempts to resist this choice. Theologically, it is interesting that one of the reasons he puts forward to demonstrate why he is unsuitable for the role is ‘I already have sons and I am an old man’ (Prot. Jas. 9.8). Thus, the Protevangelium can be seen to support in condensed form what became known as the Epiphanian solution to the problem of accounting for the siblings of Jesus.
In the New Testament (Mark 6.3; Matt. 13.55–56), there are instances where the text speaks in an unequivocal and unqualified manner about the brothers and sisters of Jesus. For those who affirm the perpetual virginity of Mary, this creates an obvious problem. Although the ‘solution’ of calling these siblings stepbrothers and stepsisters is associated with Epiphanius, the 4th-century Bishop of Salamis on Cyprus, as the Protevangelium shows, the idea was in circulation much earlier. Ultimately the ploy of casting the siblings as children of Joseph by an earlier marriage was rejected as inadequate. In part, the growing cult of virginity in the 4th century accounts for the climate in which the ‘stepbrother’ explanation was rejected. Instead it was suggested that the brothers of Jesus were actually cousins and that both Joseph and Mary were perpetual virgins. The Protevangelium has no concern to defend the notion of the perpetual virginity of Joseph, which was a theological novelty of the 4th century. However, at every possible point it reiterates and affirms the purity and virginity of Mary prior to conceiving Jesus, at his birth, and afterwards. This is without doubt one of the most important concerns of the text.
Also in this second section readers learn the fascinating detail that Mary was responsible for weaving the curtain in the temple which would be torn from top to bottom at the moment of Jesus’ death (Prot. Jas. 10, 12). Immediately prior to Mary’s work of curtain weaving, Joseph takes himself away to build houses. This is a narrative device of convenience, since it means that her reluctant husband is removed from the scene when Mary becomes pregnant – so according to the text there is no possibility that he fathered her child.
In chapter 11, for the first time in the narrative, there is a direct parallel to events contained in the canonical infancy narratives. In line with the appearance story in Luke’s Gospel, Gabriel announces Mary’s forthcoming conception. In the version contained in the Protevangelium, Mary has the good sense to ask a few more questions – this is very helpful for the readers! Mary asks Gabriel if she will ‘give birth the way women usually do’ (Prot. Jas. 11.6). She is told ‘no’, but at this stage no further details are provided. On returning home, Joseph leaps to the logical conclusion that another man has been involved. Mary protests her innocence (Prot. Jas. 13.8), but unhelpfully, as the narrative mentioned slightly earlier, Mary had now forgotten the conversation with Gabriel (Prot. Jas. 12.6). No explanation is given as to how she could have failed to remember this seemingly memorable event. Yet this lack of recollection does serve to heighten the tension that develops in the story. Joseph is brought before the temple authorities and accused as being the one responsible for this heinous act. If there had been any doubt that the marriage was intended as an asexual union, the accusation that Joseph has ‘violated the virgin’ (Prot. Jas. 15.6) makes it clear that he was not expected to exercise any conjugal rites. In order to prove their innocence, both Joseph and Mary are required to undergo the ‘drink test’ (Prot. Jas. 16.3–7). This involves drinking water, journeying into the wilderness, and waiting to see if the accused returns unharmed. The outcome is positive for both, so they are acquitted of the charge. The rite seems to be a variant on the ‘ritual of the water of bitterness’ described in the Old Testament (Num. 5.11–31). Both husband and wife survive the test and consequently are vindicated and acquitted of the charges brought against them.
Section 3: Prot. Jas. 17.1–24.14
Having demonstrated the virginal conception, coupled with the declaration of Mary’s pure state by the high priest, the narrative proceeds to describe the circumstances of the birth of Jesus. Here details from the two biblical accounts are interspersed within the greatly enlarged narrative of Jesus’ birth. Miracles and cosmological phenomena are to be found throughout. Mary sees visions (Prot. Jas. 17.9), Joseph experiences the suspension of time (Prot. Jas. 18), the newborn infant is miraculously brought forth suckling at Mary’s breast without any labour (Prot. Jas. 19.15–16). An examination by Salome the midwife confirms Mary’s hymen is still intact – just to make the point about perpetual virginity (Prot. Jas. 20.2) – but because of her unbelief Salome begins to be consumed with flames (Prot. Jas. 20.4), and upon holding her hand out to the newborn child, Salome is healed (Prot. Jas. 20.8–11).
After this sequence of miracles, the narrative begins to draw more fully upon the biblical stories. In chapter 21, the visit of the magi is recounted in slightly different terms, but nearly all the major features are present – an encounter with Herod, reference to Bethlehem as the place of the Messiah’s birth in accordance with scripture, the guiding star, the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and the magi being warned in an angelic dream not to return home by the same route. Comparison of the Greek text of both the account in the Gospel of Matthew and that in the Protevangelium reveals extended agreements. Such similarities strongly suggest that there is a literary relationship between these two texts. Whether the author of the Protevangelium had a copy of Matthew (and elsewhere also Luke) in front of him, or whether he had heard those stories so often that he had internalized and virtually memorized their phrases, is impossible to tell. As the Protevangelium is almost unquestionably later than the canonical gospels, it is apparent that the author knew at least the two gospels by Matthew and Luke. This is not the same as claiming that the author was aware of the fourfold gospel canon, or that the two gospels which are known were bound together in the same codex. However, it does reflect a period when at the very least there was a recognition that multiple gospel accounts existed. This is again evidence that the Protevangelium was written no earlier than
some stage in the 2nd century, after at least two of the canonical accounts.
The next three chapters provide an expansionist and fanciful account based on the tradition of Herod’s ‘slaughter of the innocents’ (Matt. 2.16–18). These three verses from Matthew stand as the basis of a story of some 32 verses in Protevangelium. Herod’s deployment of soldiers to execute children younger than two becomes the catalyst for the actions of two mothers. Mary simply wraps her son in strips of cloth and places Jesus in a feeding trough (Prot. Jas. 22.4) – a radical reinterpretation of the manger tradition. The more drastic action is taken by Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptist. Elizabeth flees to the hill country, but when through weariness she can go no further, she cries out ‘Mountain of God, please take in a mother with her child’ (Prot. Jas. 22.7). This address to an apparently inanimate object results in the mountain splitting open and allowing this mother and child to enter in; the mountain also becomes translucent to light so Elizabeth and John are not plunged into darkness, and an angel of the Lord remains with them.
The story then moves from Elizabeth to her husband Zechariah. In accordance with the description of him in Luke’s Gospel, he is found ministering in the temple. In an act of ‘special rendition’, Herod sends his servants to ascertain from Zechariah the whereabouts of his son. Stating his ignorance of the location of his son, Zechariah makes a martyr’s speech more akin to the martyrdom accounts of the 2nd and 3rd centuries than to the purported 1st century BC context. He states, ‘I am a martyr for God, take my life. The Lord though will receive my spirit because you are shedding innocent blood at the entrance to the temple of the Lord’ (Prot. Jas. 23.7–8).