Stratovania

The early seventies must have been an auspicious time for musicals based on the life of Jesus, because it's when Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar came out. I recently had occasion to watch the movie versions of both of these. Although both covered the same subject, they did so in quite different ways. Godspell was more of a performance art piece, while JCS was a rock opera with more of a story and exploration of character. Also, Godspell focuses largely on the sayings and parables of Jesus, and JCS explores the events leading up to his death. I have to say I much preferred JCS, but I guess I've never been much of a performance art fan. Godspell also struck me as rather more over the top. Both made Jesus' followers into hippies (a sensible choice for people who wandered around preaching peace and love), but the Godspell hippies had much more exaggerated and clownish outfits. Also, both included some modern references, but they seemed rather more blatant in Godspell. Maybe that's just because of the Three Stooges references, though. It called a lot of attention to its New York City setting, but I don't think this was even mentioned in the dialogue. Actually, I think both musicals were rather minimal productions that don't take place anywhere in particular, but the Godspell movie makers decided on New York. JCS was filmed in Israel, albeit pretty much entirely outdoors.

As far as the portrayals of Jesus himself go, the Godspell Jesus was happy. REALLY happy, in fact, pretty much all the time. The titular superstar of the other film, however, had a greater range of emotions, spending a lot of time fretting and clearly having a temper. Godspell didn't really explore the other characters all that much, while JCS was largely focused on characterization. Judas Iscariot was played as a sympathetic tragic figure with conflicting opinions toward Jesus. Even the high priest Caiaphas, while not the nicest guy, is hardly the irredeemable villain that Christian writings present. As such, I'm a little disappointed that they kept in the stuff about the bloodthirsty Jewish leaders pretty much forcing Pontius Pilate into crucifying Jesus, which rather reeks of antisemitism. Not that I think the makers of the musical were being intentionally antisemitic, but with the nuances they added to other characters and scenes, I would have hoped this part would have been less straightforward. In fact, if the Wikipedia article is any indication, the very fact that the characters are fleshed out beyond their Biblical portrayals caused some controversy among Christian critics. Apparently they would have preferred if Judas had just been a fink, rather than a character with multiple dimensions. Oh, and I also feel it necessary to mention JCS's Herod, a flamboyant partying dork who made for an enjoyable scene. I get the impression Herod is the role they give to the actor who isn't particularly good-looking.

Overall, Godspell was fine for what it was, which was essentially a rather vaudevillian work of performance art based on the Gospels (particularly Matthew). But JCS was more of a fun and interesting viewing for me. I've read that it was based mostly on the Gospel of John, although Judas' fate was taken from Matthew, the book with the most sympathetic presentation of the betrayer.

It's well known that Jesus was not the first deity said to have been resurrected from the dead. The Egyptian Osiris was killed and brought back. Odin sacrificed himself on the World Tree for wisdom, which wouldn't have done him much good if he hadn't come back to life. Bacchus/Dionysus was resurrected in a rather different manner, with his mother having died and his being born from Zeus's thigh. Another deity I've seen mentioned in this context is the Phrygian Attis, but the evidence for this isn't fully convincing. A quick Internet search has resulted in some usually fairly thorough sources, like Wikipedia not even mentioning resurrection, but merely the preservation of Attis' body. Still, there do seem to be some parallels between the festival of Attis and the celebration of Easter, so it's as good a time as any to discuss this mythical figure.


Attis originated in Asia Minor, although some aspects of his worship later spread to Greece and Rome. His birth story begins with Cybele, the Phrygian Earth Mother goddess. She had as a child a hermaphroditic demon named Agdistis. The Greek version of the story says that Agdistis was conceived when Zeus, having his sexual advances toward Cybele rebuffed, resorted to masturbating on top of her. I'm inclined to believe this wasn't part of the original myth, but rather something added by the Greeks to tie it in with their own pantheon. And since the Greeks already HAD a Mother Earth figure in Gaia, Cybele seems to have been retconned as a more minor nature deity. Anyway, the gods were just as frightened by a double-gendered deity as many people still are today, and castrated the demon. The cast-off genitals grew into an almond tree, and when Nana, the virgin daughter of the river god Sangarius, pressed one of the almonds to her breast, she ended up pregnant. (See, I TOLD you abstinence wasn't an effective way to prevent pregnancy!) Nana left her son Attis out in the wild to die, but he was tended by a goat and later adopted by humans, although their names apparently weren't worth mentioning. Cybele fell in love with the beautiful youth, apparently not knowing he was, in bizarre convoluted fashion, her grandson. When Attis tried to marry the Princess of Pessinus, Cybele became angry at him, and either she herself or Agdistis showed up at the wedding to drive Attis insane. In his madness, he castrated himself, and for some reason his father-in-law (whom some Greeks identified as Midas, the guy who had the golden touch at another point in his life) followed suit. Attis then died, but Cybele managed to preserve the body. At least, that's what appears to have been the more common story, and the one that can be linked with Easter. The Lydian version says that Zeus, jealous of the people's worship of Cybele, sent a boar to kill Attis and other Lydians, which is why the Gauls of Lydia didn't eat pork.


The festival of Attis, which lasted well into Roman times, involved cutting down a pine tree (the kind of tree under which the mythical character died), decorating it with violets (which sprang from Attis' blood as he died), and bringing it to a sanctuary, where the priests would cut themselves and sprinkle their blood all over the tree. These same priests were known to castrate themselves when entering into the order, in veneration of Attis' own actions. If you had a low tolerance for pain, Attis probably was not the god for you. Anyway, the worshippers mourned the dead Attis for three days, after which they had a wild celebration of his resurrection or bodily preservation. By the Roman calendar, this festival took place on the twenty-second through twenty-fifth of March, around the time of the vernal equinox. Although the date of Easter is based on a lunar calendar rather than a solar one, 25 March was often associated with Jesus' death, as well as his conception. There was a belief at that time that his living an exact number of years had to do with his being a prophet, or something like that, although I don't know how that idea originated. I'm sure it was no coincidence that this had him being born at the beginning of winter and dying at its end, nor that it meant Christian holidays could be transplanted onto existing pagan festivals. And the spring death does make sense, as Jesus is said in all known sources to have died during Passover. If Easter was influenced by the festival of Attis, that could explain why it's common rhetoric that Jesus was dead for three days before coming back to life, although the story as told in the Bible makes it only about a day and a half. It's also possible, however, that this figure is to coincide with Jonah's being inside the big fish for "three days and three nights." Or maybe it's both.

I guess Passover has started now, right? I'm not really that well versed in Jewish holidays, but from what I do know of them, they tend to have a greater sense of history than Christian ones. Christians often just seemed to say, "Okay, let's take this pagan holiday, throw Jesus in somewhere, and call it a day. Literally." While the primary Jewish holidays might not actually date back to Moses, they're definitely ancient. The Torah commands the observance of various festivals, including Sukkot, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur (the holiest day of the Jewish year). Passover has special connection with the Exodus, however, the name said to have come from the fact that the angel of God passed over the homes of the Hebrews when killing the first-born of Egypt. This was allegedly because the Hebrews smeared their doorways with lamb's blood, but since they were supposed to have lived in the Land of Goshen apart from the native Egyptians, I'm not sure why this was necessary. Couldn't God have just said, "Hey, skip over Goshen when on your killing rampage"? Regardless, the custom was to sacrifice and eat a lamb during Passover. Later, Christians introduced the idea that Jesus, who by all accounts was executed during Passover, was the new sacrificial lamb. But that's another story. Other foods eaten during the Seder include bitter herbs to symbolize the hardship of slavery in Egypt, charoset to represent mortar, and unleavened bread because the Hebrews left Egypt in such a hurry that they didn't have time to finish baking bread.


Now, I recently finished reading the book Who Wrote the Bible?, by Richard Elliott Friedman, and it makes a good case for how portions of the Torah were added or revised to support the points of view of the authors. The golden calf story is a good example. In Exodus 32, it's said that while Moses was chatting with God on Mount Sinai, his brother Aaron made an idol in the form of a young bull (translated "calf" because apparently English doesn't have as many words for the bovine life cycle as Hebrew does). If you read ahead to 2 Kings 10, you find more golden calves as symbols of God, this time placed in the cities of Bethel and Dan by King Jeroboam of Israel. Obviously, the more traditional priests weren't too fond of this, and it's thought that one of them might have composed the golden calf episode in Exodus as a response to this. It's sort of like saying, "See? We aren't the only ones who hate representing God this way. Moses himself hated it as well!" In addition, by making Aaron the wrongdoer in the piece and leaving Moses as innocent, it might well have been a way to promote the priests who traced their ancestry to Moses over those who claimed to be descendants of Aaron (although the Aaronid priests won out in the end). So why do I mention this? Partially just because I found it interesting, but also because it shows that the Torah probably doesn't all date back to Moses. Passover, however, does seem to be legitimately old. I have seen it suggested that it might have evolved from a more generic spring festival, but I guess that's really neither here nor there at this point. Interestingly, according to the Wikipedia article, "Pesach" might more accurately translate to "hover over," which casts some doubt on its getting its name from the angelic assassin.


One item that interested me about the Seder is how it's traditional to leave your door open and set a place for Elijah. Obviously that doesn't relate to the Exodus, since Elijah wasn't around until several centuries after that. So how did it come about? Well, part of it is that Elijah is said to have ascended bodily into Heaven, which presumably means he never really died. The book of Malachi ends with a prediction of his return on the "Day of the Lord," which came to be interpreted as meaning he'd show up back on Earth shortly before the arrival of the Messiah. Followers of Jesus identified John the Baptist with Elijah, since he more or less heralded the coming of Jesus (or at least that's the way it seemed, since Jesus' ministry began around the same time John was executed). People who think the Messiah has yet to arrive would probably say that Elijah hasn't yet returned to Earth either. So I would imagine that's why believers would expect to see Elijah and not, say, Moses, who's more closely associated with the festival but also is said to be dead and buried. There's also a tradition that Elijah will settle the difficult questions of Judaism when he arrives, including that of whether four or five glasses of wine should be served during the Seder. Since the question has never been officially resolved, the fifth cup is poured but not drunk, and said to be left for Elijah. This in turn developed into the idea that Elijah might actually show up to have a drink. If so, I hope he doesn't stop by too many houses. I don't even want to know what a guy who can bring down fire from the heavens is like when he's drunk.

Based on what I've read on the subject, the literal truth of the Bible is a subject that's been debated for much longer than modern fundamentalists would probably care to admit. Arguments over whether books like Job and Jonah should be taken as true history or fables date back pretty far. When Christianity was being developed, church leaders debated how much of the Old Testament they were going to accept, and how much of the old law that they were largely rejecting should still be taken as applying literally. As scientific and historical research have progressed and demonstrated that, for instance, the Earth revolves around the Sun and is much more than a few thousand years old, there are Christians who will try to reconcile these new discoveries with the Bible, and others who lash out against them and perhaps start taking the Bible even MORE literally.


I would posit that it really isn't possible to take the Bible entirely literally. It just contradicts itself way too often for anyone who actually knows the conflicting stories to accept both as the literal truth. Sure, some people will deny there are any contradictions, but when they try to explain a seeming contradiction away, they'll usually either admit that certain parts of the Bible should be understood figuratively, or come up with a convoluted excuse that hardly counts as a literal interpretation. It's apparently a common belief among fundamentalists these days that dinosaurs lived alongside humans, when the Bible obviously says no such thing, and they'll insist that this is taking the book literally. Still, while total and complete literalism is essentially impossible, there are believers who come awfully close. To them, Adam and Eve, the talking trickster snake, fruit that provides knowledge, a worldwide flood, and people living to be hundreds of years old are all actual historical details.


There are a few different ways to interpret these Bible stories non-literally. One is to regard them as fable, with the important part not being whether Adam and Eve really existed, but what their story says about the human condition. Sort of like Jesus' own parables, except not specifically identified as such. Another is a symbolic view, where everything stands for something else. One of the best examples of this sort of interpretation is the Epistle of Barnabas, a Gnostic letter attributed to Paul's companion Barnabas, but much more likely written after his time. He dismisses Judaism as a misinterpretation of the Old Testament, and holds that the passages that seem to be describing distinctly Jewish things are actually pointing to Christianity. Our pseudo-Barnabas says, for instance, that circumcision is unnecessary, but that the description of Abraham circumcising all the males in his household (318 people, according to Genesis 14:14) is significant because some number games result in letters standing for Jesus and the cross. As for the kosher dietary laws, they really just mean not to act like any of the animals that were forbidden to eat. This document obviously wasn't accepted into the canon, but I still hear some interpretations along the same lines today. Harold Camping, owner of the rather extreme even by radio fundamentalist standards Family Radio, frequently insists that just about everything in the Old Testament is "a picture of Christ" or "a picture of salvation." I know he's said King David is a representation of Jesus, because who better to represent a celibate pacifist than a promiscuous war leader, right? :P Mind you, he also considers all of these metaphorical stories to be literally true.


I'm sure some less stubborn Christians would admit that not all of the Bible is entirely true, but would still insist that it's all IMPORTANT. And I can't really argue with that, as the people who wrote and compiled the work wouldn't have included things they didn't think were important. Then again, what was important to them might not be the same as what we find significant in this modern age, when, for instance, the Temple in Jerusalem no longer exists. And I get the impression that some of the people who insist that the Bible is all important also think it has a simple message. Well, no. If it's all important, than its message is complicated, convoluted, and contradictory. And if the only important thing in the whole Bible is the part that deals with belief in Jesus, then how are the sections that have nothing to do with that important? As a non-religious person who nonetheless takes a good deal of interest in the Bible, I have to say that regarding everything in it as simply reinforcing one basic idea is kind of disrespectful to the variety of material to be found in the book. Why would we need metaphorical stories to illustrate the importance of Jesus when we have the New Testament to say that verbatim?

The idea of giants having lived in the distant past is a common one in mythology. Norse lore had the Jotun, the Bible mentions the Nephilim, Irish legends had giants like Finn Mac Cool, and the Hindus have the Daityas. This particular post, however, focuses on the giants of Greek mythology, usually considered to be the children of the primordial earth and sky deities Gaia and Ouranos. Their enormous offspring included the Gigantes (from which our word "giant" originated), the Cyclopes, and the Hecatonchires. Ouranos was so appalled by these hideous offspring that he shoved them back into Gaia's womb, causing her great pain until Kronos freed them and threw them in Tartarus. Kronos was one of the Titans, the offspring of the earth and sky who WEREN'T automatically deemed repulsive. Popular culture has made the Titans giants as well, hence the names of Saturn's moon, the element titanium, and a certain ill-fated ocean liner. I'm not sure whether the Titans were originally conceived as giants, however, or that was a later way to differentiate them from the Olympians. The Wikipedia entry proposes that later writers might have confused the Titans with their siblings, the Gigantes.


Aside from the Titans, the Cyclopes are probably the best known of Gaia's monstrous offspring. I've seen it speculated that the idea of giants with one eye each was based on elephant skulls, with early discoverers confusing the trunk cavity with an eyehole. While Norse mythology held the dwarves as the makers of the gods' most valuable treasures, this was the role of the Cyclopes in Greek lore. When Zeus freed the one-eyed giants from Tartarus, they provided him with his thunderbolt, and his brothers with their trident and helmet of invisibility. They came to serve Hephaestos as workers in his volcanic forges. Another possible explanation for the single eye (or maybe a complementary explanation) is that blacksmiths of the time often wore eyepatches to protect themselves from flying sparks. Since Greek mythical creatures tend to come in threes, it's not surprising that many references list three Cyclopes: Brontes, Steropes, and Arges. The most famous individual Cyclops, however, is not one of these children of earth and sky, but Polyphemus, the son of Poseidon and the sea nymph Thoosa. It's this Cyclops whom Odysseus blinded, leading the sea god to torment the hero in retaliation. Poseidon is said to have had Cyclops neighbors as well, so Poseidon and Thoosa must have been pretty busy.


The Hecatonchires, or "Hundred-Handed Ones," are known for having...okay, I'm sure you can figure THAT out. Some sources also refer to their having fifty heads. The most famous of these guys is Briareus, but there are two others named Cottus and Gyges. They're apparently strong and nimble with all of their hands, since they're reported as throwing one hundred rocks at a time at the Titans. I wonder if they have dominant hands like humans usually do. It's said that Zeus freed the Hecatonchires so that they could aid the Olympians in battling the Titans, but Dante refers to Briareus as having attacked Zeus and been sent to Hell for it. I've always been a little confused by why Dante put so many opponents of pagan deities in Hell, when he was a Christian who didn't believe that Zeus and his ilk were real gods anyway. Wouldn't Briareus be a hero for attempting to overthrow someone who claimed to be the almighty lord of creation when only God can reasonably claim that position? Then again, Dante wasn't much for nuance, and he apparently thought that anyone who lived before Jesus and wasn't one of the heroes of the Bible ended up in Hell (or at best Limbo; I seem to remember Julius Caesar being there because Dante idolized him for some reason related to Italian nationalism) regardless of how good or bad they were.


Not as much is known about the Gigantes, other than that they were, well, really big. They're also sometimes depicted with snake-like limbs. Legend has it that they were actually born AFTER the Titans, with Gaia conceiving them when fertilized with the blood resulting from Kronos' castrating his father. Kronos imprisoned them in Tartarus as well, and it wasn't until the Olympians had firmly established their rule that Gaia herself encouraged them to rebel against the current order. The war that followed was known as the Gigantomachy, and the Gigantes attempting to reach Olympus by stacking mountains on top of each other. The Olympians were only victorious when Herakles decided to fight on their side.

I was thinking today about fantasy movies, and of course The Wizard of Oz came to mind. Like a lot of fans, I'm not too keen on the "it was all a dream" ending, and Dorothy's conclusion before waking up that she shouldn't want to leave home again. It removes a lot of the magic from the adventure. This in turn led me to consider some comments I've seen on Oz forums throughout the years, and ponder the question of whether fantasy is dangerous. I recently made a sorta-joking comment on Twitter about how easy listening radio is intended to suck the life out of workers, and while I don't think there's any actual conspiracy going on there, I have to suspect there's a grain of truth to it. Is it the same way with fantasy? Are American workers not supposed to be dreaming of more majestic things, because it will give us ideas above our stations? Why work in a cubicle when you can imagine hunting dragons? I'm not saying this is a conscious thought on the part of the establishment, but I'm wondering if there's a subconscious element to it.


And while we're on the topic of control, what about religion? Karl Marx referred to it as the "opiate of the masses." A question I've pondered from time to time is why modern American conservatives are so big on Jesus, when he was a pretty radical liberal thinker for his time. One thing that comes to mind is that, while Jesus talked a good game, he also encouraged his followers to remain humble and not challenge the establishment. Probably a good idea in Roman times, considering what happened later with Simon bar Kochba's revolt, but also a good way for later Christian governments to keep the people in line. Oppressed? Don't worry about it! Just be patient, and things will be awesome when Jesus comes back! We don't know when that will be, but it'll be soon enough, right? Life is just temporary, while paradise is for eternity! I can see where old man Marx was coming from, you know? Of course, the countries that adopted communism just used Marx's own ideas to keep the working classes down, just like Europe had done with Jesus' radical notions. Funny how these things work.


Does fantasy have the same effect? After all, most fantasy that I've read, regardless of the author's political and religious beliefs, has more in common with Jesus than with Marx. It's rare to read fairy tales that actively encourage social revolution. And are we fantasy fans, as an essay I once read suggested, just waiting for the good fairy to show up and wave her wand instead of actually doing anything to solve the world's problems? Really, today's fantasy tales are often based on yesterday's mythology. Look at the Percy Jackson series, for instance. There's even fantasy based on modern religion, although perhaps it's too soon for believers to judge it based on its own merits rather than its position. Some (but by no means all) Christians who hate other fantasy works love Narnia, with C.S. Lewis' pro-Christian message. On the other hand, some of the same people are vehemently opposed to Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series, which takes a more negative approach to Judeo-Christian mythology. Pullman himself is an atheist, but the universe of these books seems to me to be based more on Gnostic thought. I'm sure Pullman doesn't actually believe in angels, but they exist in his invented worlds. It's all fiction, after all. But considering there are people who are actually feel their faith confirmed by books with a talking lion and threatened by books with polar bears in armor, I'm not sure they all realize this. Harry Potter gets particular flak in this area, despite the fact that J.K. Rowling is a Christian, who's said herself that she believes in God and not in magic. The problem might be that her critics believe in both. Still, if you read some of the conservative Christian reviews of the Potter books and movies, it often seems like the Satanic panic is somewhat of a smokescreen. Perhaps what they're REALLY worried about is how they suggest that authority figures aren't always right, and there are times when it's not a bad idea to break the rules. Come to think of it, there might be some of that in Gnostic philosophy, too. The Demiurge claims to be the Almighty God, and perhaps even genuinely BELIEVES that he's God, but he isn't. Indeed, while we didn't see too much of this figure in The Amber Spyglass, what we did learn of him suggests he was somewhat misguided and naive, allowing Enoch to take advantage of him. This stuff fascinates me, but my point is that powerful conservative interests don't WANT people to think for themselves, and the idea that authority figures (perhaps even including God) can sometimes be wrong encourages just that. And we don't need that in our children, do we? If they ever go looking for their heart's desire again, they shouldn't look any further than their own backyards. Because if it isn't there, they never really lost it to begin with!


Wow, that was a lot more rambling and all over the place than I originally intended. I have a few other thoughts on related subjects, but I'll save them for future posts.

Who wrote the Bible? This is a question that's been debated considerably over the centuries and millennia, and there's plenty of information online and elsewhere supporting different views. Since it's a topic that interests me, I intend to devote a few posts to it, despite the fact that I doubt I'll be saying anything new. To many, the authorship is a moot point, because God wrote the whole thing. Why God would work in so many different styles and espouse different philosophies isn't clear, but that's another issue. Others believe that the Bible was simply inspired by God, or that it was entirely the work of humans. Not surprisingly, I take the latter view. Whether or not the Almighty was at the helm, however, the books were obviously written down by different people.


The first five books, known as the Torah or Pentateuch, have long been considered to be the work of Moses. The thing is, however, that even if you accept those books word for word, nowhere in there is there an indication that Moses wrote them. He's said to have written various things, but not those entire books. And how would he have written about his own death, which is recorded at the end of Deuteronomy? Indeed, it isn't even written as if someone just added this part shortly after Moses' death, as the final chapter of Deuteronomy implies it had been some time since then. It's reported that no one knows Moses' burial place "to this day," and that no other prophet as great as Moses has arisen since, neither of which would have made much sense unless a considerable amount of time had passed. So how did the tradition of Mosaic authorship develop? Really, it's so old that I don't think we can determine the true answer, but Wikipedia indicates that both Josephus and Philo proposed it during Roman times. It's more likely that the books were the work of several different authors, and the Documentary Hypothesis proposes at least four original documents that were combined to make what we now know as the Torah. Among the differences between these authors were what they called God (Yahweh vs. Elohim), which of the two Jewish kingdoms they supported, and whether they focused on Moses or his brother Aaron. The book of Deuteronomy has a particularly interesting history, as it is typically identified as the scroll found in the temple during the reign of Josiah of Judah. Skeptics suggest that it might have actually been written in Josiah's time, with the priests successfully managing to pass it off as the work of Moses.


Moving on to Joshua, this account of the conquest of Canaan is also credited to its main character, Joshua himself. Archaeological evidence has cast a considerable amount of doubt on the idea that the conquest was accomplished in such a neat fashion in a short amount of time, which suggests that Joshua either didn't write it or was exaggerating his own accomplishments. The book also reports the death of its protagonist, with Aaron's son or grandson traditionally identified as the one who wrote this part. I tend to think that even that is pushing it, however, due partially to more "to this day" references (see the story of the twelve stones in Joshua 4, for instance), and also to the mention of the mysterious Book of Jasher in Chapter 10. This book, the title of which literally means "Book of the Upright/Just," has never been found, despite claims that were later found to be forgeries. And this isn't its only mention in the Bible, as 2 Samuel 1:17-18 says, "David intoned this lamentation over Saul and his son Jonathan. (He ordered that The Song of the Bow be taught to the people of Judah; it is written in the Book of Jashar.)" This is from the New Revised Standard Version, and other translations make it less clear exactly what was recorded in Jasher. If it's the song that immediately follows, however, it mentions Saul and Jonathan by name, and hence couldn't very well have dated back to the time of Joshua. Maybe there was more than one book with that name (I've seen indications that Genesis was sometimes known by that title, although it obviously isn't Genesis being referenced in either of these cases), or it was updated like an almanac. If we do consider the two books to be the same, though, it means that Joshua as we know it couldn't have been finished until after the death of Saul. As with the Torah, that doesn't mean that parts of it might not date back to eyewitness accounts, but we're obviously looking at a document that had undergone at least some revisions. As for the attribution to Joshua, could he even write? I'm not being flippant here, but merely pointing out that the Biblical account has Moses raised as a prince and Joshua as a slave, so there presumably would have been a significant difference in educational level between the two.


Thankfully, it doesn't look like anyone has tried to attribute the book of Ruth to its main character. Instead, the traditional view holds that it was written by Samuel, as were significant portions of Judges and 1 Samuel. It would make a certain amount of sense for Samuel to have popularized the story of Ruth, as he was promoting Ruth's great-grandson David as the next King of Israel. On the other hand, the story indicates that David was of Moabite ancestry, which might not have gone over too well. As for the books of Samuel, 1 Samuel 9:9 explains how prophets used to be called seers, while 10:12 explains the origin of the expression, "Is Saul among the prophets?" Both of these would presumably have been unnecessary if the book had been written by a contemporary of Saul. And Samuel is dead by the beginning of 2 Samuel, which not only means that he couldn't have written the book, but that whoever came up with its current name was quite likely an idiot. I know some versions of the Bible group the books of Samuel and Kings together and call them 1-4 Kings, which really makes more sense.


Collectively, the books of Joshua through 2 Kings (not counting Ruth, which appears later in the Tanakh) are known as the Deuteronomistic History, due to their views and concerns being similar to those in Deuteronomy. The kings and people are judged by how closely they conform to the laws put forth in the last book of the Torah. Some scholars have proposed that the compiler (and perhaps even writer) of these books was Jeremiah. Not only is the style similar to that of the book of Jeremiah, but this prophet was also known for blaming the hardships of the Jews on the deeds of the kings and their people. The reports of the kings are given from a specific viewpoint, and most are not intended to be complete (the accounts of Saul, David, and Solomon perhaps being exceptions). Indeed, the books of Kings constantly refer to the Annals of the Kings of Israel and Judah, which were presumably much more detailed sources. Unfortunately, these Annals have been long since lost to history.


If there's any interest, I'll continue this series in later weeks. Until then, you can read more about the topic here and here.

I've often seen the idea expressed that, when writing fiction, evil characters are more fun to work with than good ones. This isn't always true, but it does hold some significance in the world of literature based on the Bible. It seems, for instance, that Dante really didn't have his heart in describing Heaven so much as he did in detailing the torments of Hell. The traditional cultural view of heavenly angels is kind of dull, often simply consisting of their sitting around all day playing harps and singing songs of praise to God. In Islamic mythology, they don't even have free will. There's actually a fair amount of interesting angel lore (check out the Archangel Michael, for example), but popular culture hasn't really picked up on it so much. On the other hand, demons have really captured the imaginations of theologists and writers, and indexes and grimoires through the ages have depicted many of them as fascinating and ferocious combinations of human and animal features. Here are profiles of some of the more frequently recurring demons:


Abaddon/Apollyon - Mentioned in the book of Revelation as the angel who rules the abyss, the former is the Hebrew form of his name and the latter the Greek. He commands the bizarre locusts that plague the world. Earlier references to Abaddon use it as the name of a place, with Revelation being the first indication that it's also the same of a specific character. Mind you, personifying places is common in ancient lore, and Abaddon is mentioned as hearing things in the book of Job, so maybe the author of Revelation thought that turning the place into a person (well, sort of) was a logical step.


Asmodeus - This demon is a major player in the apocryphal book of Tobit, in which he kills seven successive husbands of a woman named Sarah (not the same Sarah as Abraham's wife in Genesis). It's been held that Asmodeus killed the husbands because he wanted Sarah for himself, which is why he came to be associated with lust and carnality. Sarah's eighth potential suitor, Tobias, drives off Asmodeus with the scent of a burning fish heart and liver (he must have had a very sensitive nose, which makes me wonder how he could live among the burning sulfur usually identified with Hell), and the angel Raphael binds him. The character also shows up in the Talmud and the apocryphal Testament of Solomon, which show him as more mischievous than purely evil, and as on somewhat friendly terms with Solomon himself. The king is said to have tricked Asmodeus into helping him build the temple, and the two of them switched places for a little while. Really, I don't think the picture of him that I included above makes him look so much malicious as just somewhat miffed. Hey, I would be too if I had to share my body with all those animals! In addition to being the demon of lust, Asmodeus was also identified in the Malleus Maleficarum as keeper of the gambling houses of Hell. I wonder if the house always wins, or if it's like that Twilight Zone episode I never saw where the guy realizes he's in Hell because he always wins and that's boring.


Astaroth - As far as I'm concerned, it's hard to think of a more occult-sounding name than this. The name was actually derived from that of the goddess Astarte or Ashtoreth, whose cult was a major competitor to that of Yahweh in the days of the Jewish kingship. Oddly enough, the demon is pretty much always referred to as male. Maybe he used to cross-dress when appearing to the Phoenicians. He's identified as Grand Duke and Treasurer of Hell, because it only figures that the worst place in the universe would be hierarchical and bureaucratic. (Then again, that's also how some theologians portray Heaven.) He's also incredibly well-learned, and can converse knowledgeably on just about any subject. Unfortunately, he has really bad breath, so you'd probably need to use some nasal protection when picking his infernal brain. Astaroth is usually identified as ugly, but some sources actually call him beautiful.


Beelzebub - Sometimes given as an alternate name for Satan himself, but identified as a Prince of Hell when seen as a different entity. His name literally means "lord of the flies," but I've seen speculation that that this name might actually be a play on "Ba'al Zebul," or "Lord of Heaven." "Ba'al" was the Canaanite word for "Lord," and was the name given to one or more of their gods. Since the main source we have for Canaanite religion is from their enemies, the name has taken on a negative connotation, although historical data suggest that Ba'al and Yahweh really had a lot in common. I guess it comes back to that whole thing about your worst enemies often being the ones who believe ALMOST what you do. There are a few references in the New Testament to a figure named Beelzeboul as Prince of the Devils, and some of Jesus' critics accused him of exorcising demons with the power of this infernal prince, rather than God. In later demonology, Beelzebub was identified as a cherub who served as Satan's lieutenant in his rebellion against the Almighty, and as a Prince of Hell after being cast out of Heaven.


Mammon - The identification of this name with an individual being presumably didn't originate until later than many of these other demons. It means "money," and is used as an indication of greed, as in Jesus' admonition that someone cannot serve both God and Mammon. Since this statement personifies Mammon, it was only a matter of time before it came to be the name of a demon who represents greed. In the Middle Ages, he was viewed as the demon of avarice.


Pazuzu - While not generally included on lists of Judeo-Christian demons, I'm including him here because of his significance in popular culture. This was the name of the demon in The Exorcist, as well as boss monsters in both Dragon Warrior II and Final Fantasy Mystic Quest, and Professor Farnsworth's pet gargoyle in Futurama. He was a wind god worshipped by the Assyrians and Babylonians, being associated most closely with the southwest wind. While a rather unpleasant being himself, he could be invoked to drive off other evil spirits.

I could probably keep going with this, but I think six of them are enough for one post. (Hey, and six is the number of the Devil! I didn't even realize that was how many I had listed until I just counted them.) If you're interested in further research on this topic, however, here are a few of the sources I consulted:
Demons Central
Demons A-Z
Wikipedia's list of theological demons
Demon Names

Essentially, Gnosticism is the belief that salvation is achieved through secret, mystical knowledge. While there are a lot of different belief systems that are considered Gnostic, the best known today was a response to Judeo-Christian tradition. One impetus for the philosophy is that, while God is thought to be entirely good, the world obviously isn't. I'm sure this way of thinking has led some to dismiss the idea of God altogether, the Gnostics instead posited that there was more than one god. Well, to put it more accurately, there is one perfect, transcendent, unknowable God, and one or more other imperfect divine beings that emanated from Him. It's one of these lesser beings who created the material world, which is why the place is so screwed up. This fake God is known as the Demiurge, and is often seen as the child of Sophia, the personification of wisdom (as seen in the Book of Proverbs). The Demiurge is sometimes considered merely misguided and other times actually evil. Either way, the material universe is more or less a sham, but people contain a spark of the truly divine that can enable them to escape it, by means of secret teachings. Gnostic Christians held that Jesus taught such secrets, and hence was an avatar of the true God, rather than of the Yahweh of the Old Testament, who would be the Demiurge in this scenario. In this philosophy, eating the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden was a good thing, which the Demiurge tried to prevent in an attempt to prevent mankind from escaping their material prison. Gnostic Christianity was largely stamped out by the early Church, but the fairly recent discovery of some Gnostic texts has helped modern scholars to learn more about their beliefs.


As I mentioned, however, there are some variations on Gnosticism. Not all Gnostics were Christians, and there is evidence of a pre-Christian Jewish Gnostic sect centered around Adam's son Seth. Some Gnostics stuck closer to mainstream Jewish belief by claiming that Satan, not Yahweh, was actually the Demiurge. The school has roots and parallels in other mystic religions and philosophies, like Buddhism, Kabbalah, and Plato's Theory of the Forms. I have to say that Gnosticism has a much friendlier face than most other religions. Instead of accepting the old standby that people are inherently sinful, it has an air of "no, we're not really that bad; it's just that the whole world is naturally flawed." And it reiterates the claim that there's something better beyond the world we know without having the need to reconcile this with a deity who's always advocating genocide and throwing people in Hell. On the other hand, it's not all-inclusive, as it presents the secret knowledge necessary for salvation and escape from materialism as only available to some. Still, I don't get the impression that they harbor any particular ill will toward the unsaved, as mainstream religions tend to.

I just recently learned about Thecla, who was a quite significant figure in early Christianity, although her role has been downplayed considerably over the centuries. Her first known appearance was in the Acts of Paul and Thecla, believed to have been written in the second century. Thecla was a young virgin woman from Iconium, who was engaged to a man named Thamyris. After hearing Paul's preaching, however, she decided to remain chaste, which angered her mother and fiancé. They brought trumped-up charges against Paul, and had him cast out of the city. When Thecla took his side, her own mother ordered her burned at the stake, but a freak storm saved her life, and she became Paul's companion for a while. Another story had her thrown to the wild beasts, but a friendly lioness protected her from the other animals. Thecla later spent seventy-two years as an ascetic in a cave, presumably deciding that she'd had enough excitement as part of society.


Although Thecla is still recognized as a saint in the Catholic and Orthodox traditions, her book is firmly considered apocryphal. I'm sure sexism has something to do with the suppression of this story, but Christianity also developed to the point where celibacy was no longer considered the ideal. There are still some remnants of the value of chastity, as with Catholic priests and nuns, and modern Christianity still tends to hold rather arbitrary views on sex. Paul basically said that it was better than remain virginal if possible, but it was okay to get married if you really couldn't hold in your lustful feelings. He thought the world was going to end soon, though, so he viewed human relations and reproduction as largely unimportant to the Christian lifestyle. When Jesus didn't show up, the church leaders presumably decided it was necessary for Christians to reproduce if the religion was going to survive, so sex was essentially changed from a totally bad thing to a thing that's bad unless done in a very specific way, in which case it's good. Thecla, who preferred to abstain from sex and marriage entirely, might not go over too well with today's Sanctity of Marriage Christians.