I. A CHARGE OF
NECROMANCY? JESUS’ IDENTIFICATION
WITH
WITH
‘A certain female juggler had died, but a magician
of the band put a charm under her
arm-pits, which gave her power to move;
but another wizard having looked at her, cried out
that it was only vile
carrion, and immediately she fell down dead, and appeared what she was in fact.’
~ Dom Augustine Calmet, Treatise on Vampires and
Revenants [1850], XXXV ~
When Herod receives news of the miracles performed
by Jesus, his immediate response is that John the Baptist has been raised from
the dead and Jesus is able to perform miracles as a direct result (Mk.
6:14-29//Mt. 14:2). Although Herod is aware that debates are raging amongst the
people concerning the true identity of Jesus and alternative candidates have
been proposed (‘Elijah’ or ‘one of the prophets’, Mk. 6:15//Lk. 9:7-8), he
remains steadfastly convinced that Jesus is to be identified with the
post-mortem John. That Jesus himself was privately aware of these rumours is
indicated by his question to the disciples ‘who do men say I am?’ in Mk.
8:27//Mt. 16:13//Lk. 9:18 and once again the three names of John the Baptist,
Elijah or one of the prophets are recounted (Mk. 8:28//Mt. 16:14//Lk. 9:19).
New Testament scholarship is remarkably silent
concerning this seemingly widespread confusion regarding Jesus’ identity. Since
these three proposed alter-identities appear on two separate occasions and take
their sources from the general populace rather than from the malicious charges
brought by Jesus’ opponents, it is fair to assume that the Gospel authors
recognised that these rumours were commonplace amongst Jesus’ contemporaries or
that they constituted popular elements of stories that arose following his death.[1] If so, the evangelists may have felt obliged to mention this
speculation concerning Jesus’ true identity regardless of the damage that it
may do to the messianic identity of Jesus. The identification of Jesus with
Elijah may be related to the mishearing of the last words spoken by Jesus on
the cross in Mk. 15:35//Mt. 27:47.[2] However, Herod’s correlation between Jesus and John the Baptist is a
little more problematic. It is unlikely that Herod is referring to the concept
of reincarnation since John the Baptist and Jesus existed contemporaneously and
they are distinctly separate characters in the Gospels. So how it is that Herod
understands the relationship between Jesus and the post-mortem John? And why
would Herod assume that John was empowering Jesus to perform miracles?
In an attempt to answer these questions, Stephen
Davies applies his spirit-possession model to this passage and suggests that
Jesus was possessed by John and therefore Jesus was to be identified as
John when under John’s influence.[3] Similar spirit-possession theories are recorded by Origen who states
that in the early Christian community it was believed that through the
possession of the same spirit, John the Baptist was Elijah and Jesus was
John the Baptist. Therefore, Origen suggests that we are to understand Herod’s
reasoning as ‘Jesus was possessed of the same powers which formerly wrought in
John.’[4] Unfortunately, rationalising this Jesus-John relationship in terms of
spirit-possession is inadequate since Herod’s accusation is not that Jesus is being
influenced or possessed by John, but that John ‘has been raised from the dead’
(Mk. 6:14//Mt. 14:2). When re-examining this statement in the context of belief
systems and superstitions concerning the violently and untimely dead in the
ancient world, it becomes apparent that the modern reader, approaching the
Gospels with a westernised and sanitised approach to customs surrounding the
dead, may well neglect the underlying fears and anxieties that would have been
brooding in Herod’s statement for the early reader. I would therefore suggest
that the allegation, in the strictest sense, is that an external force has
acted upon the body and/or soul of John to raise him from the dead and that
John’s possessor (Jesus) is able to manipulate the post-mortem John to produce
miraculous effects.
The manipulation of the spirits of the dead for
magical purposes was known in antiquity as ‘necromancy’, from the Greek νεκρός (‘corpse’)
and μαντεία (‘divination’). This term was often used to refer
to the physical resurrection of a corpse or the re-animation of dismembered
body parts using magical procedures, although it was also broadly applied to
the practice of consulting the spirits of the dead regarding future events.
This latter type of ‘spiritual’ necromancy was occasionally distinguished from
the practice of bodily reanimation by the variant term ‘sciomancy’, from the
Greek σκιά (‘shadow’) and μαντεία
(‘divination’).[5] The prevalence of divinatory practices using the dead in the ancient
biblical world is exemplified by the inclusion of laws forbidding such
practices alongside the prohibitions against magic in the Old Testament. For
example, Lev. 19:26 states ‘you shall not practice augury[6] or witchcraft’ and Deut. 18:10-11 explicitly forbids divination and consultation of the dead. The most infamous biblical example of
this particular type of necromantic divination is the consultation of Samuel
performed by the witch of Endor in 1 Samuel 28.
When the spirits of the dead were not being
summoned to return to their corpses in order to reanimate it or harassed by
magicians curious about future events, they were subjected to attempts by
magicians to acquire them as familiar spirits who would work under the
authority of the magician and perform supernatural acts whenever the magician
so requires. We must therefore be aware that in addition to necromantic and
sciomantic activity, many magicians in antiquity were actively seeking to gain
possession of the dead as powerful assisting spirits.
By comparing Herod’s statement in Mk. 6:14//Mt.
14:2 to these three popular forms of necromantic activity in the ancient world,
it is possible to estimate whether these magical procedures may have informed
Herod’s understanding of the relationship between Jesus and the post-mortem
John. Unsurprisingly, the Gospel authors do not present Jesus as engaging in
activities which directly involve the raising of John in either a spiritual or
corporal form. However, since the practice of necromancy was widespread in
antiquity, there is a wealth of literary and magical documents that detail
various necromantic rituals and methodologies and it is against this evidence
that we can compare the behaviour of Jesus within the Gospels in order to judge
whether the evangelists depict him as using techniques that were typically
associated with the necromantic manipulation of the spirits of the dead. In
order to do this, we will first adopt a literal reading of Mk. 6:14//Mt. 14:2
and ask whether the reader is to understand that Jesus has somehow raised the
physical body of John. Second, we will apply a sciomatic interpretation and
investigate the possibility that Jesus is accused of consulting the spirit of
John through necromantic divination. Finally, we will enquire whether Herod is
alleging that Jesus has possession of the spirit of John in the same way that a
magician would have possession of a familiar spirit.
I. MAGICAL REANIMATION AND THE
CORPOREAL RAISING OF THE DEAD
In the account of the raising of Lazarus we are
confronted with the resurrection of a corpse that been dead for four days (Jn.
11:1-46). Although a magical technique is not immediately apparent in the
account provided by the author of John, some individuals, such as Tertullian,
have desperately attempted to disentangle the raising of Lazarus from the
practice of necromancy.[13] Furthermore, efforts to disassociate this passage from magical
activities are seriously impeded by artistic depictions of Jesus in the third
and fourth-centuries which portray him as using a wand when performing his
miracles, particularly when raising Lazarus.
Jesus is frequently portrayed as raising Lazarus
with a wand in the frescoes in the catacombs of Rome. For example, a fresco
depicting the raising of Lazarus in the Catacomb of Callixtus in Rome dates to
the mid-third century and presents Jesus as holding a long, narrow wand in his
left hand with which he touches the head of Lazarus (see 'Jesus' Wand', fig. 1.,
cf. also figs. 2-3). The wand also appears in representations of the feeding
miracles (figs. 4, 9) and, as Mathews observes, it is sometimes ‘Christianized’
by ‘putting a little cross on top of it’ (figs. 5, 16).[15] In addition to these Roman catacomb frescoes, the image of Jesus
raising Lazarus with a wand also appears on many third and fourth century
sarcophagi (figs. 6-10). These sarcophagi carvings also present Jesus as using
a wand when raising the dead (fig. 11) and raising Jairus' daughter (fig. 12)
and a long staff-like instrument appears in one instance when Jesus is healing
a blind man (fig. 13). In addition to frescoes and sarcophagi, the image of
Jesus with a wand also appears on a fourth-century gilt glass bowl (fig. 15)
and two ivory diptychs; one which dates from the sixth century (fig. 16) and
the Italian diptych known as the ‘Andrews’ diptych, which dates from the
mid-fifth century (fig. 17).
This curious phenomenon has been overlooked by
almost all studies investigating magic in the Gospels and therefore it has not
been adequately explained. Although it is tempting to immediately claim that
these artistic representations are valuable evidence that Jesus was considered
to be a magician, we must first exhaust all other possible interpretations. For
instance, is the wand used as a symbol of Jesus’ authority? This is highly
unlikely as the scroll is employed for that very purpose on many other
occasions and the wand does not appear in scenes which emphasise Jesus’
authority (see fig. 14). Alternatively, since many modern bible translations
mention that ‘staffs’ are carried by the disciples (Mk. 6:8//Mt. 10:10//Lk.
9:3), could this wand simply be a walking-staff that is used by Jesus? Again
this is unlikely as the wands do not appear randomly in scenes of Jesus’ life but
only when a miracle is being performed. In many of these artistic representations
the wands make contact with the object that is to be transformed, therefore
they do not appear to be a superfluous or decorative element of Jesus’
appearance but they clearly have a functional purpose that is directly related
to the performance of a miracle. Furthermore, the word commonly translated as
‘staff’ in Mk. 6:8//Mt. 10:10//Lk. 9:3 is ῥαβδος and F. J. M
de Waele states that the use of this term in antiquity almost invariably means
‘wand’ or ‘rod’ (i.e. ‘a supple and pliant twig’) and is distinct from σκηπτρον (a rigid staff).[17] Although staffs were reportedly carried by
magicians and gods in the ancient world, such as Hermes’ kerukeion-caduceus, De
Waele observes that it was often the case, particularly in ancient Rome, that
‘the staff was only used as a support for beggars, for the old and the blind’.[18] The ῥαβδος, in contrast, was a flexible twig which would provide no support as a
walking-stick and this smaller instrument characterised the archetypal ‘magical
wand’ in antiquity (hence, although Hermes is often depicted carrying his
kerukeion-caduceus, it is his ῥαβδος by which he
performs his magic).
And so we come to ask: did these artists believe
that Jesus had used a magical tool when performing his miracles, particularly
when raising the dead? An association between wands and magical activity has
clearly been made in the art of this period. For example, Peter is identified
as a great magician in the Acts of Peter and therefore he appears on
sarcophagi carvings bearing a wand that is similar to that used by Jesus (fig.
18). In addition, Moses is frequently depicted in the catacomb frescoes as
using a wand when striking water from the rock and crossing the red sea (figs.
19-21). The book of Exodus states that Moses carried a mateh (Exod. 7:8-21; 8:5-6, 16-17), a term which the Brown-Driver-Briggs
Hebrew and English Lexicon translates as ‘staff, rod, shaft’[21], however Mathews suggests that this instrument should be understood as
having the same function as a wand.[22] By depicting Jesus as using a similar type of instrument, these artists
obviously intended their audience to understand that Jesus was also a powerful
magician. Therefore, in order to fully appreciate the implications of magic
that these artists were weaving into the Lazarus story, we must investigate how
the wand was believed to function in the ancient world.
II. THE USE OF THE WAND IN ANCIENT
MAGIC
In his comprehensive investigation into the use of
wands in antiquity, F. J. M de Waele observes that the wand is a common staple of
both ancient and contemporary magic and most figures in primitive or modern
societies who act as a mediator between man and the gods usually carry a
magical wand.[23] The Old Testament reveals that Moses and Aaron possessed magical staffs
by which they worked their miracles (Exod. 7:8-21; 8:5-6, 16-17) and the use of
wands in modern-day conjuring tricks demonstrates that these instruments remain
associated with magical wonders in our contemporary culture.
Although the precise use of the wand in the ancient
world is uncertain, De Waele suggests that the wand was considered by various
cultures to be an extension of the bearer’s body and an effective power
conductor through which he can transmit energy from himself to another person
or object.[24] In addition to their efficacy in transferring energy, wands were also
valued by the ancient Greeks as conductors of human souls. For example,
Aristotle claimed that he had witnessed a man drawing the soul of a sleeping
boy out of his body using a ‘soul-charming wand’ (psuchoulkos rhabdos)[25] and the Greek god Hermes appears in The Odyssey with a golden
wand with which he summons the souls of the dead out of their bodies.[26] Due to their usefulness in directing energy and
manipulating the souls of the living and the dead, wands were frequently
employed by magicians as a necromantic tool and they often appear in
representations of necromancy, on gemstones in particular, as a ‘plain small
rod’ which is used by the necromancer to touch the head of the corpse. There is
no definite consensus to explain why contact between the wand and the head of a
corpse was necessary. It is highly unlikely that the necromancer is simply
pointing to the corpse, since the precise connection between the head and the
point of the wand cannot be coincidental on each occasion. In light of this
recurrent wand-head connection, De Waele suggests:
‘it is very probable that the wand has something to
do with a necromantic
If the wand was unequivocally linked with
necromantic practice in the ancient world, particularly when it was used to
touch the head of a corpse, then it is surprising that an artist would
consciously depict Jesus using a wand to perform his miracles and it is
exceptionally remarkable that they would portray him as touching the top of
Lazarus’ head with his wand (see 'Jesus' Wand', figs. 1-3, 7-10, 17, also the
raising of Jairus’ daughter in fig. 12 and the raising of the dead in fig. 11).
The suspicious similarity between the techniques of the necromancers and these
depictions of Jesus in early Christian art is indicated by De Waele who
comments in a vague footnote:
‘I can only suggest here that there may be a
possibility of a connexion (sic)
between the artistic type of these necromantic gems
and the type of Christ,
performing the wonder of the resurrection by
touching the head of a dead
We may presume from these artistic representations
that certain individuals in the late third and fourth centuries understood that
Jesus had employed magical, specifically necromantic, techniques when
performing his miracles. Morton Smith briefly touches on this possibility when
discussing a representation of Jesus with a wand on a fourth-century glass
plate. Smith refers to the artist who produced this work as a member of the
‘Christian cult of Jesus the magician’ and he adds that this ‘cult of Jesus the
magician’ demonstrates that representations of Jesus employing magical
techniques are ‘not peculiar to outsiders nor solely the product of malicious
interpretation’.[30] Smith therefore concludes:
‘we have to deal with a tradition that tried to
clear Jesus of the charge of magic
In addition to the possibility that these artistic
works were produced by a specific sect that worshipped and admired Jesus as a
magician, Robin M. Jensen proposes that these depictions indicate that the
early Church itself may have understood Jesus to be a magician.[32]
If these representations indicate that Jesus was
suspected of practising necromancy in the centuries following his death, then
it is likely that he encountered similar accusations during his lifetime. If
so, we could possibly interpret Herod’s statement that John ‘has been raised
from the dead’ (Mk. 6:14//Mt. 14:2) in its most literal form as revealing
Herod’s fears that Jesus has accomplished the physical reanimation of John’s
body. Although the Gospel writers indirectly support this interpretation by
demonstrating that Jesus was entirely capable of raising the dead in bodily
form, Herod’s allegation is not simply that Jesus has raised John from the
dead, but that John is the source of Jesus’ ability to perform miracles. How is
the reader to understand Herod’s suggestion that the body of the resurrected
John is continually transferring power to Jesus? Are we to understand that the
newly-revived cadaver of John was accompanying Jesus around Galilee and
performing miracles on his behalf? On the contrary, perhaps the Gospel writers
did not intend Herod’s words to concern the bodily resurrection of John but
rather the consultation of his spirit. In this case, the allegation made by
Herod could be interpreted as a charge that John’s spirit, rather than
his physical body, is assisting Jesus in his miracles.
III. NECROMANTIC DIVINATION AND THE USE OF YOUNG BOYS
Magicians who were actively consulting the dead for
divinatory purposes in the ancient world could often be identified by their use
of a medium, typically a pure and uncorrupted pre-pubescent boy, who would act
as a mediator between the magician and the spirit world. Young boys were
specifically selected as mediums since their youth, sexual purity and freedom
from physical desires was thought to enhance their perceptual abilities. In
accordance with this opinion, Iamblichus states that the best mediums are those
who are straightforward and young[34] and Justin Martyr acknowledges the popular use of ‘immaculate children’
in divination rituals.[35]
The divinatory texts within the Greek magical
papyri are crammed with instructions for the use of young, pure boys. For
example, a third-century lamp divination (PGM VII. 540-78) states: ‘the boy,
then, should be uncorrupt, pure’. The boys’ sexual purity is stressed in ‘a
vessel divination’ (PDM XIV. 1-92) in which the magician is advised: ‘you
should bring a pure youth who has not yet gone with a woman’ (XIV. 68). The
popularity of boy mediums in antiquity was so widespread that in one text
entitled ‘a vessel divination’ (PDM XIV. 395-427) the magician is instructed
‘you can also do it alone’ (XIV. 425) and Betz expands this phrase by adding
‘i.e., without a youth.’[36] Furthermore, it was most often the case that instructions detailing the
use of boys were omitted from magical texts since the authors readily assumed
that the performer would be familiar with the necessary procedures.
Boy mediums have been used in magical practices
from at least the fourth century B.C. and they were often employed in a
practice known as ‘lecanomancy’, a method based on the notion that ghosts can
manifest themselves in liquids. In the initial stages of a lecanomatic
divination rite, the boy is usually blindfolded or his vision is restricted.
Irenaeus mentions this practice when referring to the magicians in his Against
Heresies (175-185 CE):
‘bringing forward mere boys [as the subjects on
whom they practise], and
The blindfold is then removed and the boy is
required to gaze into a reflective surface, such as stone, flames, or water.
The images or shapes that the boy sees are thought to reveal a message from the
gods or spirits. To aid the success of this type of divination, the
magician is often directed to induce a trance-state in the boy in order to make
him receptive to visions. Instructions to bring about a trance state for this
purpose are provided in a text entitled ‘Charm of Solomon that produces a
trance’ (PGM IV. 850-929).[42] Betz comments that this title literally means ‘Solomon’s
Collapse’ and it is therefore ‘an indication of ecstatic seizure’.[43] Convulsive behaviour in a boy was a contributing factor to the
accusations of magic made against Apuleius. When his accusers claimed that a
boy ‘fell to the ground’ in his presence and consequently sought to attach a
charge of magic to Apuleius, he defended himself by claiming that the floor was
slippery or that the boy was suffering an epileptic seizure.[44]
In addition to their youth and sexual purity, many
divination rituals in the Greek magical papyri require the boy to be naked and
dressed in white linen. This manner of dress is described in a divination to
Helios (PGM IV. 88-93) which instructs the magician to ‘wrap a naked boy in
linen from head to toe (σινδονιάσας κατὰ κεφαλης μέχρι ποδων γυμνὸν κρότα)’. Pure garments or pure sheets are an essential
apparatus in most divinatory rites and they are occasionally used by the
practitioner himself. For example, a text entitled ‘Hermes’ ring’ requires the
performer to ‘put under the table a clean sheet’ (σινδόνα καθαρὰν, PGM V. 220) and it is the magician himself who
must put on a pure garment in the ‘Spell of Pnouthis’ (PGM I. 57).
Examples of child divination in the Greek Magical
papyri appear to be the tip of the iceberg of an entire magical tradition that
was associated with magical divination in antiquity. Since these procedures
were commonplace and clearly related to magical practice, should the reader be
suspicious of occasions in the Gospels in which Jesus is accompanied by a young
man who is dressed in similar attire to the boy mediums in the magical papyri?
IV. THE νεανίσκος
IN GETHSEMANE (MK. 14:51) AND AT THE TOMB (MK. 16:5)
The identity and role of the νεανίσκος (‘young man’) who follows Jesus at Gethsemane (Mk. 14:51) has been
subject to a great deal of discussion in New Testament scholarship since his
function within the passage and his relationship with Jesus is unclear. Some
commentators have suggested that the νεανίσκος of Mk. 14:51
could be the author of Mark inserting himself into the Gospel narrative.
However, we may presume from the great care taken by Mark to provide details
regarding the youth’s unusual mode of dress that he did not intend the youth to
be a superfluous literary device. In addition, simply by the criteria of
embarrassment alone, the evangelist would not include a character dressed in
such a bizarre fashion without good reason. It appears that the author of Mark
was comfortable with the inclusion of this strangely dressed, anonymous figure
and therefore the neani,skoj and the details of his unusual
clothing must serve an important function within the narrative.
Another similarly dressed νεανίσκος appears
later in Mk. 16:5 and some scholars have identified this figure as the same νεανίσκος previously
encountered in Gethsemane. The white robe (στολὴν λευκήν) worn by the youth in Mk. 16:5 has led some commentators to conclude
that the figure is an angel. However, although the term νεανίσκος is used to
refer to an angel in 2 Macc. 3:26-34 and Tobit 5 (in this latter instance this
is because the angel is disguised), Scroggs and Groff correctly point out that
the author of Mark uses ἀγγελος (‘angel’) elsewhere within his
Gospel seemingly without embarrassment, therefore it is likely that he would
have used the term ἀγγελος if he
intended the reader to recognise this figure as an angel.
It has also been proposed that the νεανίσκος in Mk. 16:5
is to be understood as the risen Jesus, particularly since he appears ‘sitting
on the right side’, a position which evokes the christological notion of the exalted
Jesus seated at the right hand of God (cf. Mk. 12:36, 14:62). Furthermore,
white garments featured earlier in Mark’s Gospel in the transfiguration
narrative (Mk. 9:3). However, it is clear that Mark did not intend the νεανίσκος to represent the risen Jesus as the purpose of this figure within the
narrative is to announce that Jesus is not in the tomb and to point
towards his resurrection.
Others have suggested that the στολὴν λευκήν worn by this young man indicates that he was
undergoing a Christian baptism or a ritual involving a symbolic death and
resurrection experience. Although the customary dress of Christian baptism
closely resembles the clothing of the neani,skoj in Mk. 16:5,
we immediately encounter difficulties with this theory when attempting to
identify this character with the near-naked νεανίσκος accompanying
Jesus in Gethsemane. First, the νεανίσκος in Mk. 14:51 is not dressed in a στολὴν λευκήν but in a σινδών, a word
used by all three Synoptic writers to describe the linen cloth in which Jesus’
body was wrapped (Mk. 15:46//Mt. 27:59//Lk. 23:53). Some scholars have deduced
from this parallel that this σινδών is a burial
cloth and therefore the youth must either be Lazarus or clothed in the
ceremonial garb required for a death-rebirth ritual. Second, if the reader of
the Gospels is to identify the νεανίσκος in Mk. 14:51 as the same figure
in the tomb in Mk. 16:5, then it may be tempting to suggest that both passages
describe a pre-baptismal and post-baptismal individual, or equally a
pre-initiatory and post-initiatory individual. However, this theory would
require Jesus to have completed the youth’s rite of transformation, either his
baptism or initiation, between his arrest in Gethsemane and his resurrection
from the tomb. Since the Gospel writers tell us that Jesus was in custody
during this period, then the logical progression of events does not allow his
interpretation. Furthermore the reader is led to believe that the youth is not
a loyal follower of Jesus or fledgling disciple for, as Morton Smith notes, he
runs away and abandons Jesus in Gethsemane (Mk. 14:52). If the youth is not to
be understood as having a close relationship with Jesus, then what is his
purpose in the narrative? And why would he follow Jesus around dressed in such
an unusual manner if these were not baptismal or initiatory garments?
Readers of the divinatory rites in the Greek
magical texts cannot fail to notice the similarities, particularly in clothing,
between the boy mediums in the magical papyri and the νεανίσκος in Mk. 14:51 and 16:5. The youthfulness of the man is emphasised by
Mark’s use of the Greek word νεανίσκος, meaning
‘young man’ or ‘servant’, although the precise age indicated by the term νεανίσκος is
contentious. Furthermore, the word σινδών which is used to refer to the linen cloth worn by the νεανίσκος in Mk. 14:51
is also found in many of the rituals in the Great Magical Papyri of Paris (PGM
IV). For example, in PGM IV. 88-93 the magician is instructed to ‘wrap a naked
boy in linen from head to toe (σινδονιάσας κατὰ κεφαλης μέχρι ποδων γυμνὸν κρότα)’ and in an ‘oracle of Kronos’ (PGM IV. 3086-3124)
the practitioner is instructed to ‘be clothed with clean linen (σινδόνα καθαρὰν) in the garb of a priest of Isis’ (IV. 3096). The
symbolic use of the sindw,n to represent death and rebirth is evident in certain magical texts in
which the participant is required to use a σινδών when
performing a pseudo-burial. An example of this appears in a letter concerning
bowl divination (PGM IV. 154 – 285) which permits the magician to consult a
drowned man or dead man. It reads:
‘go up to the highest part of the house and spread
a pure linen garment (σινδόνιον καθαρόν)
on the floor…and while looking upward lie down / naked on the linen
on the floor…and while looking upward lie down / naked on the linen
(σινδόνα) and order
your eyes to be completely covered with a black band. And
wrap yourself like a corpse, close your eyes and,
keeping your direction toward
the sun, begin these words….’
Considering the similarities in age and dress
between the boy-mediums in the magical papyri and the neani,skoj in Mk. 14:51 and 16:5, would the early reader of the Gospels, who would
in all probability be accustomed to these magical procedures or at least
familiar with such activities, notice these resemblances and suspect that the
youth in these Markan passages had an equally magical purpose?
V. NECROMANTIC ACTIVITY IN THE
SECRET GOSPEL OF MARK
It is with a great deal of trepidation that I
venture a brief discussion into the various suspicious elements of necromantic
activity within the ‘Secret’ Gospel of Mark. Being fully aware of the current
controversy regarding the credibility of this source, I do not intend to engage
with issues surrounding the authenticity of the text and therefore evidence
from the extended version of Mark is offered as a supplement to the earlier
observations made in canonical Mark.[53] Furthermore, should the extended version of Mark be conclusively proven
to be inauthentic, then this will not have a dramatic impact on our
investigation since implications of divinatory processes have previously been
established by the two instances of a suspiciously dressed νεανίσκος in canonical
Mark. Therefore rejecting evidence gathered from this text on the basis of its
dubious credibility will simply diminish the evidence of divinatory practices
within the Gospels by one-third rather than discredit the suggestion in total.
The reader of Secret Mark is again presented with a
young man who is ‘wearing a linen cloth (σινδόνα) over his
naked body’ and once more commentators have attempted to explain his unusual
dress by suggesting that the youth is undergoing an early Christian baptismal
ceremony. To propose that the series of events in Secret Mark describe a
Christian baptism raises the same difficulties as those previously identified
in canonical Mark and there are additional elements within this passage that
render this interpretation particularly problematic. For example, if the young
man in Secret Mark is simply undergoing a Christian baptismal ceremony, then
why is it necessary for the youth to come to Jesus during the evening in a
secretive manner and remain with him throughout the night? And why would
Clement refer to this particular act as a μυστικὰς (‘secret
doing’) of Jesus?
In his Letter to Theodore, Clement hints at
a distinction between the πράξεις του Κυρίου (‘doings of the Lord’) that are
recorded in canonical Mark and the μυστικὰς (‘mystical/secret’) doings of Jesus that are absent in canonical Mark:
‘As for Mark, then, during Peter’s stay in Rome he
wrote an account of
them, nor yet hinting at the secret (μυστικὰς) ones, but selecting what he
thought most useful for increasing the faith of
those who were being
instructed’ (I.15– 18, trans. M. Smith).
The clandestine nature of the extended Markan
narrative is established at the outset by identifying this text as a μυστικὸν εὐαγγέλιον (II. 12),
which immediately instils in the reader a sense of supernatural foreboding. As
indicated in Morton Smith’s translation above, the translation of μυστικὰς as ‘secret ones’ thereby implies that these activities took place in
secret and that their details were consciously withheld from public
speculation. If the author of Mark omitted these additional details of Jesus’
secret or mystical ‘doings’ on the basis that they were to remain out of public
circulation, then what could this supplementary passage in Secret Mark possibly
contain that could prove to be so provocative or damaging?
The statement ‘Jesus taught him the mystery of the
kingdom of God’ (3:8-9) certainly indicates a strong element of tuition and
suggests that the youth is undergoing a secret initiation, such as those
associated with mystery cults. If the passage was considered by the author of
canonical Mark to describe an initiation rather than a baptism, then the
evangelist may have been understandably reluctant to reveal too much detail
regarding the methods used by Jesus to pass on his mystical teachings to his
initiates. Alternatively, these activities may have been interpreted by the
early reader as instances of magical practice and consequently the Gospel
evangelist may have censored this passage and omitted it from the final version
of his Gospel, hence this passage subsequently came to be referred to under the
vague heading of ‘mystical’ or ‘secret’ doings. The magical
connotations of the term μυστήριον are discussed by Betz who
observes that in the Greek magical papyri: ‘magic is simply called μυστήριον (mystery,
PGM IV. 723, 746; XII. 331, 333) or μυστήρια (mysteries,
IV. 476, V. 110)’.[58] Smith boldly suggests that the ‘mystery of the kingdom’ was a magical
ritual in itself. [59]
There are certainly many opportunities within the
passage for those familiar with the magical traditions of the ancient world to
grow suspicious of magical activity, particularly the presence of a naked youth
dressed in a linen cloth and the imparting of secret knowledge during the
night, a time which, although terribly clichéd, is typically associated with
necromantic activity.[60] In addition, a strict interval of six days elapses before Jesus summons the boy to him. Are we to understand that
Jesus has allowed the boy a period of convalescence to recover from the trauma
of returning from the dead? Or does this indicate that a period of preparation
has been necessary to equip the boy for the event which Jesus subsequently
commands him to attend?
Most magical procedures require any individual who
is uninitiated or unfamiliar with the performance of a rite to complete a
period of preparation prior to the ritual. The pre-training of a child medium
is a customary requirement in the magical papyri; for example, a ‘vessel
inquiry’ (PDM XIV. 239-95) suggests that the magician uses ‘a pure youth who has
been tested’ (XIV. 287). Similarly, in PGM II. 55 the magician must use ‘an
uncorrupted boy, who has been tested’ (παιδὶ ἀφθόρω γυμναζομένω) and Betz writes in his comments on this text: ‘γυμναζομένω means
literally ‘trained’ or ‘practiced’’.[61] A period of
preparation is also necessary if the rite is to be performed by the
practitioner himself. He is usually advised to purify himself and abstain from
sex for several days beforehand in order to achieve a state of purity. For
example, PGM IV. 1097 instructs the magician to ‘purify yourself from
everything three days in advance’ and PGM IV. 3210 states that the practitioner
should keep himself ‘pure for 7 days.’ A period of sexual purity is emphasised
in PGM IV. 898 (‘keeping him from intercourse for 3 days’) and PGM I. 40-42
states: ‘[this] rite [requires complete purity]. Conceal, conceal the
[procedure and] for [7] days [refrain] from having intercourse with a woman.’
Rites of initiation into mystery cults typically involved a period of
purification and preparation prior to the initiation ceremony. For example, in
Apuleius’ Metamorphoses, Lucius undergoes a purification
ritual several days before his initiation into the Isis cult and he is clothed
in a linen robe on the day of the ritual. [63]
If Secret Mark is an authentic document which
reveals the ‘mystical’ or ‘secret’ doings of Jesus, then we have a huge wealth
of evidence from which to draw parallels between Jesus’ behaviour in the
Gospels and the activities of the magician operating within the ancient magical
tradition. However, if Morton Smith is responsible for constructing this
extended version of Mark, then perhaps he had these particular magical
procedures in mind when doing so and fully intended to raise our suspicions of
dubious practice in order to add a pinch of magic to Jesus’ ministry. In either
event, the existence of the text indicates that someone, either an ancient
Gospel writer or a modern New Testament scholar, understood that Jesus was
engaging in activities that were not only secretive, but also carried
significant connotations of magical behaviour.
Returning to Herod’s statement in Mk. 6:14//Mt.
14:2, it is entirely possible to interpret this as an allegation that Jesus is
consulting the deceased spirit of John the Baptist, especially considering that
Jesus is often accompanied by a figure who fits perfectly into the role of a
magician’s medium. In addition, C. H. Kraeling in his study ‘Was Jesus Accused
of Necromancy?’ observes that the term used for the conjuring up of spirits of
the dead in magical texts, namely ἐγείρειν, is identical to that used by the author of Mark in Mk. 6:14.[64] Since the dead were most often manipulated for divinatory purposes,
evidence of foresight or prophetic visions of the future were valuable
indicators of necromantic activity[65], therefore the consultation of the dead is not a behaviour that we
would expect to find associated with Jesus in the Gospel accounts. In
spite of this, all three Synoptic authors report that Jesus was skilled at
prophecy and that he was privy to information concerning future events, as
indicated by his own passion predictions (cf. Mk. 8:31; 10:33f; 14:8, 18, 27-31
and pars.). He also appears talking with Moses and Elijah during his
transfiguration (Mk. 9:4// Mt. 17:3// Lk. 9:30). As this consultation with
Moses and Elijah is initiated by Jesus and the author of Luke specifically
states that they revealed to him details about his future (‘they spoke of his
departure’, Lk. 9:31), is the reader to
understand that Jesus had invoked the dead in order to consult with them
concerning future events?[66]
Alternatively, in contrast to theories of corpse
reanimation and spirit divination, Kraeling proposes that when Herod states
that John ‘has been raised from the dead’ he does not mean that Jesus is in
communication with the spirit of John, but his words reflect the popular
opinion circulating amongst the people of Galilee that Jesus had, or was
in possession of, the spirit of John the Baptist. [67] This position was later supported by Morton Smith who explains the
allegation made in Mk. 6:14 as follows:
‘John the Baptist has been raised from the dead (by
Jesus’ necromancy; Jesus
now has him). And therefore (since Jesus-John can
control them) the (inferior)
Interpreting Herod’s statement in terms of Jesus’
possession of the spirit of John exposes an identical allegation to that made
by the Pharisees in the Beelzebul controversy (Mk. 3:22//Mt. 12:24//Lk. 11:15).
In this instance, rather than proposing that Jesus’ miraculous powers have a
demonic source, Herod is claiming that Jesus draws his power from the magical
manipulation of the soul of John the Baptist. The wealth of evidence
surrounding the magical employment of the souls of the untimely dead in the
ancient world suggests that this explanation of Jesus’ powers would have been
perfectly natural to a first century audience and therefore Kraeling’s theory
is a very persuasive proposal.
VI. THE MAGICAL MANIPULATION OF THE UNTIMELY
AND VIOLENTLY DEAD IN THE ANCIENT WORLD
AND VIOLENTLY DEAD IN THE ANCIENT WORLD
Cause of death was of great importance to people in
the ancient world and an individual’s manner of death was noted and interpreted
accordingly. Numerous civilisations throughout history have feared the souls of
those who have met a violent or early demise since the ominous nature of this
kind of death made it both frightening and highly suspect. Tertullian, in his De
Anima, assigns these souls to two distinct categories; those who had died
before their natural allotment of time on earth (the ἄωροι) and those that had been killed by violence (the βιαιοθάνατοι), including suicides, murder victims and those killed in battle.[70] A contributing factor to the fear surrounding the βιαιοθάνατοι in particular was the notion that if the soul was taken from the body
by violence then this would prolong its co-existence amongst the living. From
the fifth-century BC onward, a growing number of texts underline the popular
theory that the ‘untimely dead’ or ‘dead by violence’ are unable to enter the
Underworld and that they must remain restless until they reached the time of
their natural death from old age.[71] For example, in Plato’s Phaedo, Socrates recounts the
popular belief that the dead are unable to ascend or descend and that they are
forced to live in and around their graves, restlessly wandering and seeking
ways to assault the living and avenge their death.[72] 
Stories concerning the earth-bound, or more
specifically the corpse-bound, nature of these spirits may have arisen from direct
observations of the cadavers of those who suffered a sudden death. Modern
medical studies reveal that the bodies of victims who have been killed suddenly
or violently tend to behave abnormally following death. Not only do these
bodies decompose at a slower pace, but often their blood reliquifies. Anyone
unacquainted with this abnormal post-mortem phenomenon would therefore assume
when coming into contact with the body of an individual who had suffered a
violent or sudden death that the body was still alive, since it would bleed
when cut and decompose more slowly than usual.
For the ancient magician, the vengeful nature of
both the ἄωροι and the βιαιοθάνατοι and their
hostility towards the living and resentment toward their killers singled them
out as particularly keen to lend their aid to magical activity, as their
bitterness could be redirected to victims at the discretion of the magician.
Tertullian addresses this magical spirit-manipulation in his De Anima,
describing how the violently killed and the ‘too early killed’ were frequently
invoked in many types of magical ritual and they appeared to the magician as phantasmata.
[77] Since these vengeful souls were considered to be of such great value to
the magician, if one could not be found then one would be made. Hence there
were reports of magicians in antiquity who performed boy sacrifice in order to
create a restless spirit and this is probably the origin of the rumour that
Simon Magus performed his ‘miracles’ using the soul of a murdered boy that he
created out of thin air and promptly sacrificed.[79] In addition to the human dead, the souls of animals were also used in
magical manipulations. For example, PGM XII. 107-21 contains instructions on
the use of ‘a black cat that has died a violent death’ and certain texts in the
magical papyri give instructions on the ‘deification’ of animals in order to
grant the magician a powerful spirit through which he can work his magic.[80]
Although some curse tablets, or defixiones,
have been discovered in caves or bodies of water such as wells, since the dead
were considered to be a healthy supply of useful spirits it is no surprise that
the majority of curse tablets have been found in graves. Magicians considered
graves to be gateways to the underworld and they would often insert their curse
tablets into them, the tablets essentially acting as ‘letters’ and the corpse
acting as a ‘letterbox’ to the underworld. This procedure is demonstrated in
PGM V. 334-339 which provides the following directions for constructing a curse
tablet:
‘taking it [the package] away to the grave of
someone untimely dead, dig [a hole]
four fingers deep and put it in and say ‘Spirit of
the dead, who[ever] you are,
I give over NN to you, so that he may not do the NN
thing.’ Then, when you
have filled up the hole, go away.’
The earliest curse tablets do not accredit power to
the corpse itself, but a change occurs around the fourth-century BC and the
dead themselves become a power that can be exploited. Magical texts and curse
tablets from the fourth-century BC onwards began to address the ghost of a
corpse directly and refer to this spirit as a δαιμόνιον. [81] The use of
the spirits of the dead came to be such a standard feature in ancient magic
that it was eventually crystallised in the special term νεκυδαίμονες (‘corpse demon’). The term νεκυδαίμονες recurs frequently throughout the Greek magical papyri, particularly in
the Great Magical Papyri of Paris (dated to around 200 AD) in which the term is
used in the construction of love charms such as the ‘Wondrous Spell for Binding
a Lover’ (PGM IV. 296-466). This particular binding spell requires the magician
to place the text beside the grave of one who has died an untimely or violently
death and adjure all the ‘daimons’ of the graveyard to ‘stand as assistants
beside this daimon’ for the magician’s consequent employment. Later in the same
text, the daimon of the corpse is invoked with the special term νεκυδαίμον (IV. 360). Other rites from the same papyrus instruct the magician
regarding methods used to employ the disembodied souls of the violently dead as
spiritual assistants on earth. For example, there is a love spell of attraction
performed with the help of heroes or gladiators or those who have died a
violent death (PGM IV. 1390-1495), a rite for binding a lover using the demons
of ‘men and women who have died untimely deaths’ (PGM IV. 296-466) and in a
Prayer of Petition to Helios (PGM IV. 1950-1955) the magician prays:
‘I beg you, lord Helios, hear me NN and grant me
power over the spirit of
this man who died a violent death… so that I may
keep him with me [NN]
Since an association between the daimones
and the dead is evident in curse tablets and magical papyri several centuries
on either side of the New Testament period, the early readers of the Gospels
would most probably have made a connection between the ‘demons’ exorcised by
Jesus and the spirits of the dead, particularly since the author of Mark uses daimo,nion and pneu/ma avka,qarton (‘unclean spirit’) interchangeably in order to
ensure that his readers understand both to be the same.
The account of the Gerasene demoniac in Mk. 5:1-20
clearly demonstrates that fears regarding the untimely dead and their influence
upon the living were common within the New Testament era. This scene in Mark’s
Gospel depicts an encounter with the unsettled dead and describes their
post-mortem existence among the living, their ability to possess the living and
their inclination towards displays of aggressive and violent behaviour.
VII. THE DEAD AS POSSESSING SPIRITS AND THE GERASENE
DEMONIAC (MK. 5:1-20)
Some commentators speculate that as the possessing
demons in Mk. 5:1-20 identify themselves as ‘legion’ then these possessing
spirits are the souls of soldiers who fell in battle with the Romans. The
validity of this hypothesis is strengthened by a wealth of evidence which
suggests that soldiers and those killed in battle were deemed the most fearful
of restless spirits. Not only had these souls suffered a violent death, but as
the bodies of soldiers often remained unburied and unidentified on the
battlefield, this disrespectful treatment of the corpse was thought to
contribute to the spirit’s restlessness. For this reason, the souls of the
unburied acquired a classification of their own in ancient magic and
battlefields were frequented by necromancers either looking to procure a useful
familiar spirit or seeking to place curse tablets for activation by restless
ghosts. The souls of soldiers commonly appear as familiar spirits in the
magical papyri; for example, PGM IV. 1390-1495 is entitled: ‘A love spell of
attraction performed with the help of heroes or gladiators or those who have
died a violent death’. In addition, it was against this background of magical
tradition that the witch Erictho in Lucan’s Pharsalia chose to consult
the ghost of an unburied soldier[93] and Apollonius of Tyana was reported to have exorcised the restless
ghost of a soldier who had taken possession of a boy.[94]
Throughout this exorcism in Mk. 5:1-20, the
hostility and violent nature of the spirits possessing the Gerasene demoniac
are evident in the demoniac’s aggressive behaviour and amazing strength (Mk.
5:3-5). The vengefulness of these spirits is finally demonstrated in their
chosen method of expulsion - a cathartic release in the form of a καταποντίσμος, (‘sea dive’), an ancient ritual associated with sacrifices to
Poseidon. If the author of this exorcism account was aware that the spirits of
the dead were generally violent and vengeful and that they could return to
exert their influence upon the living, then perhaps this is the fundamental
theory that lies beneath Herod’s statement in Mk. 6:14//Mt. 14:2. As
established at the beginning of this chapter, it is unlikely that the reader is
to interpret the Jesus-John relationship in terms of spirit-possession due to
the fact that Herod states that John ‘has been raised from the dead’, i.e. that
an external force has acted upon the body and/or soul of John to raise him from
his grave. I would suggest that the relationship between Jesus and the
post-mortem John is to be understood as an allegation of magical spirit
manipulation. Herod is proposing that Jesus has raised the spirit of John from
the dead and that he is using this spirit to perform miracles, much in the same
way that a magician in the ancient world would employ a βιαιοθάνατος to carry out
his magical operations.
VIII. JOHN THE BAPTIST AS A biaioqa,natoj
By stating ‘John, whom I beheaded, has been
raised’ (Mk. 6:16), Herod draws attention to John’s mode of death and indicates
to the reader that his death satisfies the credentials for the creation of a
highly vengeful spirit that is ripe for magical exploitation. There are a
number of differing opinions regarding decapitation in the ancient world. The
Romans regarded it as a quick and painless death and therefore it was often
reserved for dignitaries, but to Greek minds it was a brutal act and counted
amongst the most violent of deaths. Due to their violent demise, the souls of
the beheaded were feared throughout antiquity and accounts of headless men and
headless creatures were particularly common. In Hellenistic Egypt it was
believed that the spirit of a beheaded criminal became a type of 'headless'
demon known as an Akephalos and these headless demons frequently appear
in the magical papyri.[97] For example, the incantation in PGM V. 96 is addressed to a ‘Headless
one’ (ἀκέφαλον) and the magician later claims in the same text that he is to be
identified as a ‘headless daimon’ (ἀκέφαλος σαίμων, V. 145).
Due to the fear associated with the victims of a
violent death in the ancient world, especially regarding victims of
decapitation, the method of John’s execution in Mk. 6:16 would have been
particularly significant for the early reader of the Gospels as it would have
singled him out as a prime candidate for magical manipulation. I would therefore suggest that it is possible to
interpret Mk. 6:14-29//Mt. 14:2 as an allegation that Jesus is using the spirit
of John as a powerful βιαιοθάνατος by which to perform his miracles. Furthermore, by identifying himself as the killer
and accepting responsibility for John’s death, Herod reveals that he fears
retaliation from John’s vengeful spirit and this may account for his steadfast
opinion that it is John who has returned and his reluctance to consider the
alternative candidates proposed in Mk. 6:15//Lk. 9:7-8.
Since the Gospel writers frequently portray Jesus
as knowledgeable regarding binding methods used by magicians to control demonic
spirits in the ancient world (as demonstrated in Chapter 11), it is perfectly
reasonable to assume that Jesus was also capable of employing these techniques
to gain the control over spirits of the dead, such as John the Baptist,
particularly since the demons that are exorcised in the Gospels are
occasionally identified as the spirits of the dead (Mk. 5:1-20). Furthermore,
the magical tradition reveals that a magician who had gained control over the
spirits of the dead could not only cast them out in exorcism, but he could also
‘set them to work’ on specific tasks such as healing, exorcising other spirits
or divination. In consideration of this, Herod’s allegation that Jesus is able
to perform miracles through the magical manipulation of the spirit of John is
not only understandable, but in accordance with the principles of ancient magic
it is also an entirely credible interpretation of Jesus’ power-source.
If the critic would dismiss the possibility that
Jesus’ miraculous powers had a demonic, or daimonic, source on account that
this evidence is found in the mouths of Jesus’ opponents in the Gospels who
intended to discredit his authority and claims to messiahship, then it is
necessary to silence any deliberation from hostile sources and proceed from
hereon accompanied solely by the words and behaviour of Jesus himself as
presented by the evangelists. In order to conclusively confirm that Jesus has
control of a spirit in the Gospels, rather than visa versa, we would ideally
hope to uncover an aspect of coerciveness in Jesus’ approach to his empowering
spirit or, at the very least, an indication of his ability to compel a spirit
to obey his will. Whereas the implications of demonic and daimonic manipulation
discussed in the previous chapters were made by Jesus’ opponents, we
will discover in the following chapter that valuable evidence of spirit manipulation
can also be found in certain accounts of Jesus’ own behaviour and teachings,
namely the implied manipulation of the Holy Spirit in Mk. 3:29//Mt. 12:31//Lk.
11:20, the use of the title ‘Son of God’ as a means of self-identification, the
arrival of a familiar spirit in the baptism narratives and the cursing of the
fig tree in Mk. 11:12-24//Mt. 21:18-22. I would suggest that evidence of spirit
manipulation and a coercive attitude can be discerned in Jesus’ own words,
teachings or behaviour in each of these passages and this annihilates all
possession theories and firmly stamps the seal of magic on his ministry.
However, the spiritual source in question does not derive from the demonic or
the dead in this instance, but from the most common source of assisting spirits
employed by the magician in the ancient world; the divine.
Extract from Helen Ingram (2007) Dragging Down Heaven: Jesus as Magician and Manipulator of Spirits in the Gospels, PhD, The University of Birmingham, UK.
[1] An echo of this is found in the
Slavonic additions to Josephus’ Jewish War in which we read: ‘some said
of him, ‘our first lawgiver is risen from the dead, and hath evidenced this by
many cures and prodigies.’’
[2] The confusion regarding Jesus’
words on the cross will be addressed later.
[3] ‘By the logic of possession,
then, if Jesus received John’s spirit he had therefore become possessed by John
and so sometimes had John’s identity. Or, if possessed by Elijah’s spirit, he
therefore sometimes had Elijah’s identity’ (Stevan L. Davies, Jesus the
Healer: Possession, Trance and the Origins of Christianity (London: SCM
Press, 1995) p. 95).
[4] Origen, Commentary on Matthew,
10:20. Morton Smith points out that there was a period of time when Simon Magus
was believed to ‘be’ Jesus until his real methods were discovered (Morton
Smith, Jesus the Magician (London: Gollancz, 1978) p. 34).
[5] This process would typically
involve the conjuration of a spirit in a ghost-like form or the controlled
possession of the magician by the invoked spirit (for induced possession as a
method of magical prophecy, see the use of the 'ob' in Chapter 12).
[6] The Hebrew word here
translated as ‘auguries’ generally carries the meaning of ‘divination’ (cf.
BDB p. 638).
[10] See PGM XII. 279-283: ‘for the
resurrection of a dead body’.
[12] For example, the talitha koum
commandment appears in the raising of Jairus’ daughter (Mk. 5:41) and following
the exorcism of epileptic boy, Jesus teaches his disciples that this type of
demon ‘cannot be driven out by anything but prayer’ thereby suggesting to the
reader that a specific prayer technique should be used in this case (Mk. 9:29).
[13] Tertullian, On the
Resurrection of the Flesh, 53.3.
[15] Mathews, T.F., The Clash of Gods: A
Reinterpretation of Early Christian Art (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993)
p. 57.
[17] F. J. M. de Waele, The Magic
Staff or Rod in Graeco-Italian Antiquity (Drukkerij Erasmus, 1927) p. 25.
[18] De Waele, The Magic Staff,
p. 27.
[21] BDB, p. 641.
[22] ‘these subjects are ubiquitous
in catacomb art and…demonstrate Moses making use of his magic wand’ (Mathews, The
Clash of the Gods, p. 72).
[23] F. J. M. de Waele, The Magic
Staff or Rod in Graeco-Italian Antiquity (Drukkerij Erasmus, 1927). De
Waele notes: ‘even as in our days, this ancient object belongs to the equipment
of the sorcerer…so it may have been with the goetia, originally a kind of
necromancy, but afterwards generally, only a kind of prestidigitation…in augury
and astrology, as well as in many other forms of primitive sorcery, a wand or
staff may have been used’ (p. 23).
[24] De Waele, The Magic Staff,
p. 165.
[25] Clearchus, On Sleep,
quoted by Proclus in his Commentary on Plato’s Republic X. For further
discussion of this passage, see Hans Lewy, ‘Aristotle and the Jewish Sage
According to Clearchus of Soli’, HTR 31.3 (1938) pp. 205-235.
[26] Homer, The Odyssey 24.
For examples of staffs used by gods and goddesses such as Hermes, Dionysos and
Asklepios, Athene, Artemis, Nemesis, Rhea, Poseidon, and Apollon, see De Waele,
The Magic Staff, chapter 1: ‘The Magic Staff or Rod in the Hands of the
Gods.’
[28] De Waele, The Magic Staff,
p. 165.
[29] De Waele, The Magic Staff,
p. 165.
[30] M. Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 64.
[31] M. Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 94.
[32] Robin M. Jensen, ‘Raising
Lazarus’, Bible Review 11.2 (1995), pp. 20-29.
[34] Iamblichus, Myst. 3. 24.
[35] Justin Martyr, 1 Apol.
18.
[36] Hans Dieter Betz (ed.), The
Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, Including the Demotic Spells, 1
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1986) p. 220.
[40] Irenaeus, Adv. Haer. 2.
32. 3.
[42] The author of the text adds in
parenthesis following the title ‘works on both boys and on adults.’
[43] Hans Dieter Betz, The Greek
Magical Papyri in Translation , p. 55.
[44] Apuleius, Apology, 27.
Having denied using a boy-medium, Apuleius later states ‘it is my own personal
opinion that the human soul, especially when it is young and unsophisticated,
may by the allurement of music or the soothing influence of sweet smells be
lulled into slumber and banished into oblivion of its surroundings so that, as
all consciousness of the body fades from the memory, it returns and is reduced
to its primal nature, which is in truth immortal and divine; and thus, as it
were in a kind of slumber, it may predict the future’ (Apology, 43). He
adds: ‘this miracle in the case of boys is confirmed not only by vulgar opinion
but by the authority of learned men’ (Apology, 42).
[53] Readers who are interested in
the current state of scholarship regarding the authenticity of Secret Mark are
directed to the recent publication by Stephen C. Carlson, The Gospel Hoax:
Morton Smith‘s Invention of Secret Mark (Baylor University Press, 2005).
Carlson provides a comprehensive overview of scholarly investigation into this
text to date and argues that Secret Mark is a modern forgery that has been
fabricated by Morton Smith himself.
[55] The ‘deeds of Christ’ appear in Matthew 11: 2.
[58] H. D. Betz, 'Magic and Mystery
in the Greek Magical Papyri' in Christopher A. Faraone and Dirk Obbink (eds.)
Magika Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1991) p. 249.
[59] Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 135.
[60] The practitioners of the spells
in the Greek magical papyri are frequently instructed to perform their rituals
‘at night’ (cf. PGM IV. 3091) and daimons are often invoked from out of the
dark (cf. PGM XXXVI. 138). Also, Heraclitus
associates the magi with the ‘night-walkers’ (Clement of Alexandria, Protrepticus
22.2).
[61] Betz, The Greek Magical
Papyri in Translation, p. 14. n. 17.
[63] Apuleius, Metamorphoses,
XI. 2.
[64] C. H. Kraeling, ‘Was Jesus
Accused of Necromancy?’, JBL 59 (1940) p. 155. Arndt and Gingrich
translate ἐγείρω as ‘raise, help to rise’ (W. Arndt and F. W. Gingrich, A
Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature,
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1957) p. 213-214). Mark uses the term ἐγείρειν of Jesus’ resurrection (Mk. 16:6) and of people after healing (Mk.
1:31; 2:9-12; 3:3; 9:27; 10:49). In addition to indicating the raising of the
dead (Mt. 11:5; Mk. 5:41; Lk. 7:14, 7:22, 8:54; Jn. 5:21), the term is also
used in the Gospels to indicate the movement of the body upon awaking from
sleep (Mt. 2:13, 2:20, 8:26; Mk. 4:27, 14:42). Oepke recognises the various
interpretations of ἐγείρω by translating the term as ‘to rise up’, also ‘to
make well, to rise up strengthened’ and ‘‘to raise the dead’ or pass. ‘to rise
from the dead’’ (Albrecht Oepke, ‘ ἐγείρω / ἔγεροις', TDNT, vol. 2, p. 335).
[65] Hence Philostratus protects
Apollonius against a charge of magic by claiming: ‘his foreknowledge was gained
not by wizardry, but from what the gods revealed to him’ (Philostratus, Life
of Apollonius, 5.12).
[66] It could be argued that since
Eiljah was carried to heaven in a fiery chariot (2 Kings 2:7-12), we cannot
identify him as a member of the dead.
[67] Kraeling, ‘Was Jesus Accused of
Necromancy?’ pp. 147-57
[68] Smith, Jesus the Magician,
p. 34.
[70] Tertullian, De Anima,
56-57.
[71] Porphyry attempts to explain
this phenomenon when he writes: ‘The soul, having even after death a certain
affection for its body, art affinity proportioned to the violence with which
their union was broken, we see many spirits hovering in despair about their
earthly remains; we even see them eagerly seeking the putrid remains of other
bodies’ (Porphyry, De Sacrificiis, Chapter on the True Cultus).
[72] Plato, Phaedo, 6.
[77] Tertullian, De Anima, 52.
[79] Clementine Recognitions,
XV: ‘Then we understood that he spake concerning that boy, whose soul, after he
had been slain by violence, he made use of for those services which he
required.’ Even the post-crucifixion Jesus was subjected to magical
exploitation in view of the violent nature of his death and we will explore
this later in Chapter 14.
[80] Other texts including the
‘deifying a spring mouse’ (PGM IV. 2457) and the ‘deification of a field
lizard’ (PGM VII. 628). PGM III.1 states that drowning the animal causes it to
be transformed into an Esies. Betz interprets the term Esies as
‘an epithet of the sacred dead often applied to Osiris who was drowned and
restored to life’ (Betz, The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, p.
334).
[81] This correlation between the
Greek daimons and the souls of the dead was not only made in magical
texts. For example, Josephus makes the same connection in Bellum Judaicum
1.82, 84 and Antiquitates Judaicae 13.314, 317, 415-416.
[82] See also PGM LVII. 1-37, dating
from the 1st or 2nd century A.D, which reads ‘I will not break [the] bonds with
which you bound Typhon, and I will not call those who have died a violent
death but will leave them alone’ (LVII. 5-6, my emphasis).
[86] For the notion that the living
can be possessed by the ghosts of the dead, see Justin Martyr, 1 Apol.
18.
[88] In order to consult Achilles,
Apollonius was required to spend the night on his ‘barrow’ (Philostratus, The
Life of Apollonius, 4.11).
[93] Lucan, Pharsalia, 6.
717-987.
[94] Philostratus, Life of
Apollonius, 3. 38.
[97] For more on the Akephalos
see Betz, The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, p. 335.
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