This is despite the fact that in this gospel it is the traitor Judas Iscariot and not Jesus who is crucified; its central claim is that Jesus escaped the Cross. In other docetic literature this is seen as an occasion for happiness: Jesus is portrayed as looking on at the crucifixion happy and smiling, even laughing. In the medieval Barnabas, however, Jesus regards even his rescue from the ignominy of the Cross as a cause for weeping. Only once, in all 222 chapters, is he portrayed as being pleased. In chapter 127, after the great success of the missions to Judea undertaken by his disciples, he expresses contentment and is able, with his disciples, to rest. Otherwise, he is uniformly dour and tearful, a prophet carrying the immense burden of his prophecies.
The Angel Gabriel comforts him on several occasions but to little effect. The Jewish authorities appeal to the Roman Senate to put an end to dissension about the identity of Jesus: this does not comfort him either. He is still a tragic figure even though Judas dies in his stead and God is revealed as merciful toward the righteous and severe to the unfaithful. The docetic crucifixion does not ease Jesus' discomfiture at all.
The source of this portrait of the suffering (docetic) Jesus is to be found in almost the very centre of the work, chapter 112. Here Jesus confides to Barnabas - "he who writes" as the author describes himself - the cause of his sorrow. The few commentators who have studied the work do not seem to have noted this or to have given it due weight. Alone with "he who writes" Jesus reveals what he calls his "great secrets". In the context of the work as a whole it is an important moment; matters that have only been hinted at earlier are here spelt out in full. It is a key scene. All the scenes in which "he who writes" takes a part are important and signal key themes, but this scene especially so. It is Jesus' most intimate, personal confession to his closest disciple and, arguably, a signature scene revealing to us matters close to the heart of the work's unknown author - assuming that the author identifies himself with the character "he who writes".
More significantly, it is the moment at which this "he who writes" receives his commission to impart Jesus' true teachings to the world - which amounts to authority for the document itself. Jesus is half way through his ministry. He knows what lies ahead. After the disciples and apostles had departed:
There remained with Jesus he who writes; whereupon Jesus, weeping, said: "O Barnabas, it is necessary that I should reveal to you great secrets, which, after that I shall be departed from the world, you shall reveal to it."
Then answered he that writes, weeping, and said: "Suffer me to weep, O master, and other men also, for that we are sinners. And you, that are an holy one and prophet of God, it is not fitting for you to weep so much."
Jesus answered: "Believe me, Barnabas;, that I cannot weep as much as I ought. For if men had not called me God, I should have seen God here as he will be seen in paradise, and should have been safe not to fear the day of judgment. But God knows that I am innocent, because never have I harbored thought to be held more than a poor slave. No, I tell you that if I had not been called God I should have been carried into paradise when I shall depart from the world, whereas now I shall not go thither until the judgment. Now you see if I have cause to weep. Know, O Barnabas, that for this I must have great persecution, and shall be sold by one of my disciples for thirty pieces of money. Whereupon I am sure that he who shall sell me shall be slain in my name, for that God shall take me up from the earth, and shall change the appearance of the traitor so that every one shall believe him to be me; nevertheless, when he dies an evil death, I shall abide in that dishonour for a long time in the world. But when Muhammad shall come, the sacred Messenger of God, that infamy shall be taken away. And this shall God do because I have confessed the truth of the Messiah who shall give me this reward, that I shall be known to be alive and to be a stranger to that death of infamy."
Then answered he that writes: "O master, tell me who is that wretch, for I fain would choke him to death."
"Hold your peace," answered Jesus, "for so God wills, and he cannot do otherwise but see you that when my mother is afflicted at such an event you tell her the truth, in order that she may be comforted."
Then answered he who writes: "All this will I do, O master, if God please."
The first contribution by "he who writes" in this passage is interesting in that it might be taken to reflect a more normative type of doceticism. Jesus is indeed a holy one of God: he should therefore not suffer. This is the basis for the doceticism we know from among the heresies in early Christianity: Jesus is too good to have died by crucifixion. In the docetic mind it is too much to think that God could permit or endorse such a monstrous injustice. It was a powerful objection to Christianity in its early history. What manner of God would allow His Son to suffer the scandal and torture of being crucified? Here "he who writes" believes that it is improper for one so holy as Jesus to weep so much. Weeping is the state of sinners; Jesus is not a sinner; why then should he weep?
The "great secrets" then, are a response to this. Jesus explains why he weeps, why he suffers, even though he is holy. And his answer is in itself extraordinary. Its theological and Christological implications are far-reaching. His answer is - I suffer because I am too holy. This is an idea that finds a place within orthodox Christian themes. It answers docetic formulations with the psychological truism: if God was a man a hateful world would despise Him. This is not a failing of God's justice but rather the way of a fallen world and of a sinful mankind.
Elsewhere in the Gospel of Barnabas we have reproductions of the canonical theme 'the persecution of the prophets'. Prophets, in this work, are persecuted by the world, and this is in the nature of things. The author usually has Ahab and Jezebel’s persecution of Elijah and the "Sons of the Prophet's" in mind, but it is presented as a general principle: prophets suffer persecution. Jesus' own sense of persecution, however, is unique. It happens, in this gospel, that Jesus is so holy that men mistakenly call him God, and in so doing bring upon him the persecution of deification. This is the greatest of the "great secrets" in the Gospel of Barnabas: Jesus weeps because men call him God and - more than that - the deification of him does him violence. The peculiar persecution of Jesus, that is, is that he is so good, possesses so many miraculous powers, displays so many signs, that men worship him and make of him a false god. This tragic irony is the keynote to the Gospel of Barnabas' picture of the weeping Jesus.
The consequences of this are wide and are explored throughout this work. While God knows full well that Jesus is an innocent man, the fact that men have made of him a false god has unavoidable repercussions. Jesus, it seems, was a prophet of such high station that he could have attained the paradisiacal vision in his lifetime. Instead, because men had called him God, and despite his innocence, he must, tragically, be deprived this supreme vision until the end of time.
The Angel Gabriel comforts him on several occasions but to little effect. The Jewish authorities appeal to the Roman Senate to put an end to dissension about the identity of Jesus: this does not comfort him either. He is still a tragic figure even though Judas dies in his stead and God is revealed as merciful toward the righteous and severe to the unfaithful. The docetic crucifixion does not ease Jesus' discomfiture at all.
The source of this portrait of the suffering (docetic) Jesus is to be found in almost the very centre of the work, chapter 112. Here Jesus confides to Barnabas - "he who writes" as the author describes himself - the cause of his sorrow. The few commentators who have studied the work do not seem to have noted this or to have given it due weight. Alone with "he who writes" Jesus reveals what he calls his "great secrets". In the context of the work as a whole it is an important moment; matters that have only been hinted at earlier are here spelt out in full. It is a key scene. All the scenes in which "he who writes" takes a part are important and signal key themes, but this scene especially so. It is Jesus' most intimate, personal confession to his closest disciple and, arguably, a signature scene revealing to us matters close to the heart of the work's unknown author - assuming that the author identifies himself with the character "he who writes".
More significantly, it is the moment at which this "he who writes" receives his commission to impart Jesus' true teachings to the world - which amounts to authority for the document itself. Jesus is half way through his ministry. He knows what lies ahead. After the disciples and apostles had departed:
There remained with Jesus he who writes; whereupon Jesus, weeping, said: "O Barnabas, it is necessary that I should reveal to you great secrets, which, after that I shall be departed from the world, you shall reveal to it."
Then answered he that writes, weeping, and said: "Suffer me to weep, O master, and other men also, for that we are sinners. And you, that are an holy one and prophet of God, it is not fitting for you to weep so much."
Jesus answered: "Believe me, Barnabas;, that I cannot weep as much as I ought. For if men had not called me God, I should have seen God here as he will be seen in paradise, and should have been safe not to fear the day of judgment. But God knows that I am innocent, because never have I harbored thought to be held more than a poor slave. No, I tell you that if I had not been called God I should have been carried into paradise when I shall depart from the world, whereas now I shall not go thither until the judgment. Now you see if I have cause to weep. Know, O Barnabas, that for this I must have great persecution, and shall be sold by one of my disciples for thirty pieces of money. Whereupon I am sure that he who shall sell me shall be slain in my name, for that God shall take me up from the earth, and shall change the appearance of the traitor so that every one shall believe him to be me; nevertheless, when he dies an evil death, I shall abide in that dishonour for a long time in the world. But when Muhammad shall come, the sacred Messenger of God, that infamy shall be taken away. And this shall God do because I have confessed the truth of the Messiah who shall give me this reward, that I shall be known to be alive and to be a stranger to that death of infamy."
Then answered he that writes: "O master, tell me who is that wretch, for I fain would choke him to death."
"Hold your peace," answered Jesus, "for so God wills, and he cannot do otherwise but see you that when my mother is afflicted at such an event you tell her the truth, in order that she may be comforted."
Then answered he who writes: "All this will I do, O master, if God please."
The first contribution by "he who writes" in this passage is interesting in that it might be taken to reflect a more normative type of doceticism. Jesus is indeed a holy one of God: he should therefore not suffer. This is the basis for the doceticism we know from among the heresies in early Christianity: Jesus is too good to have died by crucifixion. In the docetic mind it is too much to think that God could permit or endorse such a monstrous injustice. It was a powerful objection to Christianity in its early history. What manner of God would allow His Son to suffer the scandal and torture of being crucified? Here "he who writes" believes that it is improper for one so holy as Jesus to weep so much. Weeping is the state of sinners; Jesus is not a sinner; why then should he weep?
The "great secrets" then, are a response to this. Jesus explains why he weeps, why he suffers, even though he is holy. And his answer is in itself extraordinary. Its theological and Christological implications are far-reaching. His answer is - I suffer because I am too holy. This is an idea that finds a place within orthodox Christian themes. It answers docetic formulations with the psychological truism: if God was a man a hateful world would despise Him. This is not a failing of God's justice but rather the way of a fallen world and of a sinful mankind.
Elsewhere in the Gospel of Barnabas we have reproductions of the canonical theme 'the persecution of the prophets'. Prophets, in this work, are persecuted by the world, and this is in the nature of things. The author usually has Ahab and Jezebel’s persecution of Elijah and the "Sons of the Prophet's" in mind, but it is presented as a general principle: prophets suffer persecution. Jesus' own sense of persecution, however, is unique. It happens, in this gospel, that Jesus is so holy that men mistakenly call him God, and in so doing bring upon him the persecution of deification. This is the greatest of the "great secrets" in the Gospel of Barnabas: Jesus weeps because men call him God and - more than that - the deification of him does him violence. The peculiar persecution of Jesus, that is, is that he is so good, possesses so many miraculous powers, displays so many signs, that men worship him and make of him a false god. This tragic irony is the keynote to the Gospel of Barnabas' picture of the weeping Jesus.
The consequences of this are wide and are explored throughout this work. While God knows full well that Jesus is an innocent man, the fact that men have made of him a false god has unavoidable repercussions. Jesus, it seems, was a prophet of such high station that he could have attained the paradisiacal vision in his lifetime. Instead, because men had called him God, and despite his innocence, he must, tragically, be deprived this supreme vision until the end of time.
While Jesus is no less deserving of this supreme vision, the fact that men have made of him a god in some way links him to their fate: he must wait until the Judgment and until those who have deified him have received their proper reward. There is the suggestion, too, perhaps, that as a Prophet Jesus was indeed god-like, and that deification was a hazard inherent in his mission. When Peter, at one point, says that Jesus is God, Jesus curses him and prays that he be sent to hell for saying and believing so. At another point Jesus bangs his head on the ground in anger and frustration at what people believe and say of him. He spends a good part of his ministry trying to dispel the false claims being made about who and what he is. In what is surely a strange and oblique presentation of the Jewish War, the identity of Jesus causes sedition and upheaval in Judea.
In one sense, in the Gospel of Barnabas, his identity is his mission and his message; what he teaches is not as challenging as the question of who he is. Because men call him God, he is withheld from God, or, more exactly, men who are withheld from God withhold him. He is not free of them until they receive their justice. Although it is not explicit in this passage, this doctrine conforms to what the Muslim inspired Gospel of Barnabas has to say about idols and idolatry. In effect, people treat Jesus as an idol, an object of shiirk. He suffers because of this.
The present author has reframed Jesus' speech in chapter 112 as a lament, the lament of the prophet called God:
If men had not called me God
I would have seen God here as in paradise.
If men had not called me God
I should have been safe not to fear the Day of Judgment.
God knows that in my heart I am innocent.
I am naught but His poor slave.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
If men had not called me God
I should have been transported to the Gardens of Bliss
when I depart from this world.
Now I shall not know paradise until the Last Day.
Great is my persecution! since men have called me God.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
God knows that I am innocent of heart.
He shall take me up from the earth
and have the traitor slain in my name.
But if men had not called me God
God should not give him my face
and my likeness in an evil death.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
If men had not called me God
I should not have to abide in dishonour
and await the Comforter who shall remove the infamy.
I have confessed the truth of the one who is to come.
Only he shall restore my name.
Only then shall I be known to be alive
and a stranger to that evil death.
Men have made of me an idol.
This is surely the greatest persecution
the Prophets of God can know.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
It is a cunning twist of Mahometan Christology. The important point to note is that Jesus' final solace - the vision of Paradise - is postponed because men called him God. In this perspective – the core message of this heterodox medieval work - to call Jesus God does him lasting spiritual violence. In the medieval Barnabas he is spared the injustice of the Cross – although Judas is given his appearance and so the world at large attributes this vile fate to him, a slander that persists until the ‘Comforter’ (Paraclete) comes to expose the error – but the unique form of persecution he suffers among all the persecuted prophets is to be deified by a wickedly idolatrous world.
Yours,
Harper McAlpine Black
The present author has reframed Jesus' speech in chapter 112 as a lament, the lament of the prophet called God:
If men had not called me God
I would have seen God here as in paradise.
If men had not called me God
I should have been safe not to fear the Day of Judgment.
God knows that in my heart I am innocent.
I am naught but His poor slave.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
If men had not called me God
I should have been transported to the Gardens of Bliss
when I depart from this world.
Now I shall not know paradise until the Last Day.
Great is my persecution! since men have called me God.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
God knows that I am innocent of heart.
He shall take me up from the earth
and have the traitor slain in my name.
But if men had not called me God
God should not give him my face
and my likeness in an evil death.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
If men had not called me God
I should not have to abide in dishonour
and await the Comforter who shall remove the infamy.
I have confessed the truth of the one who is to come.
Only he shall restore my name.
Only then shall I be known to be alive
and a stranger to that evil death.
Men have made of me an idol.
This is surely the greatest persecution
the Prophets of God can know.
Now thou seest if I have cause to weep.
It is a cunning twist of Mahometan Christology. The important point to note is that Jesus' final solace - the vision of Paradise - is postponed because men called him God. In this perspective – the core message of this heterodox medieval work - to call Jesus God does him lasting spiritual violence. In the medieval Barnabas he is spared the injustice of the Cross – although Judas is given his appearance and so the world at large attributes this vile fate to him, a slander that persists until the ‘Comforter’ (Paraclete) comes to expose the error – but the unique form of persecution he suffers among all the persecuted prophets is to be deified by a wickedly idolatrous world.
Yours,
Harper McAlpine Black
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