Part
One of a Special Planet Envoy Critique of The Da Vinci
Code
By
Carl E. Olson, with Sandra Miesel
Introduction
The
following special Planet Envoy is the first part of a critique
and examination of the best-selling novel, The Da Vinci
Code. In this opening edition, we examine the success of The
Da Vinci Code, the apparent agenda of its author, Dan
Brown, the major flaws of the novel, and the Gnostic background
and
neo-Gnostic beliefs the book relies upon so heavily. Future
editions of this critique will discuss Mary Magdalene, Constantine
and the Council of Nicaea, Brown’s Christology, the search
for the Grail, the Knights of Templar, the Priory of Sion,
witchcraft and the Middle Ages, and Leonardo da Vinci and
his artwork.
The Da
Vinci Code Phenomenon
In April
2003, Doubleday published The
Da Vinci Code, the fourth novel of Dan Brown. A combination of murder mystery,
thriller, conspiracy tale, romance novel, religious expose, and
historical revisionism, the novel had instant success. Glowing
reviews from leading newspapers and magazines, combined with
the buzz from Brown’s previous novel, Angels & Demons,
helped The Da Vinci Code debut at #1 on the New York
Times bestseller list. As of mid-October, 2003, The Da
Vinci Code has been on the New York Times bestseller
list for over twenty-eight weeks, and has been in the top two
or three spots for most of that time. There are now nearly three
million copies of the book in print and it is being translated
into thirty languages.
Described
by New York Times as a "riddle-filled, code-breaking,
exhilaratingly brainy thriller," The Da Vinci Code garnered
effusive, even ebullient, praise from numerous reviewers. The Library
Journal raved, "This masterpiece should be mandatory reading";
the Chicago Tribune marveled that the book contained "several
doctorates’ worth of fascinating history and learned speculation"; Salon magazine
described the novel as "an ingenious mixture of paranoid thriller,
art history lesson, chase story, religious symbology lecture
and anti-clerical screed." Numerous critics noted how "smart," "intelligent," and
well-researched the novel appeared to be ("His research is impeccable" stated New
York Daily News), a point that surely pleased the author,
who insisted in interviews and on
his website that his thriller is thoroughly researched and
factual in all respects. In addition, the novel features an opening
page titled "Fact," which
states: "All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents,
and secret rituals in this novel are accurate."
Readers
who have enthusiastically embraced the book point to historical,
artistic, religious, and theological details within it as central
reasons for their fascination with the best-seller. A reader
on amazon.com states that The Da Vinci Code is "one of
the best books I have ever read–makes you see the world a little
differently after reading it!" Another gushes, "You will be amazed
at the revelations that come forth in this book." Another elaborates:
"The
Da Vinci Code has to be one of the most remarkable books
I've read. It is a wonderful–and very effective–mix of history,
mystery, action, puzzles and suspense. The pace is so powerful,
the book just wouldn't let go! The story line is almost to
brilliant to conceive, the sheer genius and fascinating craftsmanship
that Dan Brown uses in his book are breath-taking. The idea
behind the story may seem controversial, but once you think
about it, it really does become quite real and even natural."
Another
reader provides a more muted and relativistically-minded assessment:
"The
historical events and people explored in the book are real. But
no one knows the Truth...nor will we ever, probably. I think
that some things are meant to be a mystery. With all the world's
diverse religions and each individual's belief in what is Divine–the
Truth would have to destroy the beliefs, hopes and lives of many
of the world's population. So, perhaps, in the divine scheme
of things, there are many more Truths than one. Don't take the
book too seriously."
Despite
the skepticism of some readers, The Da Vinci Code proved
to be so popular, so quickly, that within weeks of being published,
Columbia Pictures bought the film rights to the book (and to Angels & Demons as
well). Noted director Ron
Howard is reportedly on board and Columbia plans to bring
the book to cinematic life sometime in 2005.
Dan
Brown’s Agenda and the Purpose of The Da Vinci Code
Over
the summer, the Envoy office began to receive a number
of e-mails and inquiries about The Da Vinci Code. They
all expressed concern that the book contains a number of overt
attacks on the Catholic Church, plus dubious assertions about
topics including Mary Magdalene, the Council of Nicaea, the
New Testament canon, church architecture, and the murder of
witches
during medieval times. Reading the novel confirmed that the
concerns of Catholics and other Christians were warranted;
Brown’s thriller
is less than thrilling when it comes to providing an accurate
and fair portrayal of the Catholic Church, Christian theology,
and Church history.
In her
glowing New York Times review of the novel, Janet Maslin
writes: "As in his Angels and Demons, this author is
drawn to the place where empirical evidence and religious faith
collide.
And he creates a bracing exploration of this realm, one that
is by no means sacrilegious, though it sharply challenges Vatican
policy." ("Spinning a Thriller From the Louvre" by Janet Maslin. New
York Times. March 17, 2003). Maslin
apparently doesn’t know what "sacrilegious" means. The Da
Vinci Code is overtly sacrilegious (that is, it profanes
sacred beliefs), claiming that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene
and had children, Mary Magdalene–not Peter–was the head apostle,
the Catholic Church has kept these "facts" hidden through force
and terror, and that Jesus was not truly divine, but merely a
good man "deified" by the Emperor Constantine in 325 A.D. In
addition, the novel is obsessed with radical feminist notions
of the "sacred feminine" and ancient goddess worship, all served
up in a syrupy, breathless fashion reminiscent of romance novels.
The
major theme of Brown’s novel is the pressing need to recover
the "sacred feminine" and a revitalized worship of a goddess
or goddesses. Brown states, in responding on his website to the
question about his novel being "empowering to women," that,
"Two
thousand years ago, we lived in a world of Gods and Goddesses.
Today, we live in a world solely of Gods. Women in most cultures
have been stripped of their spiritual power. The novel touches
on questions of how and why this shift occurred…and on what lessons
we might learn from it regarding our future."
In
an interview with CNN (July 17, 2003), Brown emphasized this
point
more than once, stating, "In the early days . . . we lived in
a world of gods and goddesses. . . . Every Mars had an Athena.
The god of war had the goddess of beauty; in the Egyptian tradition,
Osiris and Isis. ... And now we live in a world solely of gods.
The female counterpart has been erased." He continues: "It’s
interesting to note that the word ‘god’ conjures power and awe,
while the word ‘goddess’ sounds imaginary." Then, revealing his
understanding of how his novel might affect "traditional" Christians,
he remarks, "There are some people in the church for whom this
book is a little bit shocking. But the reaction from the vast
majority of clergy and Christian scholars has been positive." He
adds: "Nuns, in particular, are exceptionally excited about
the strong feminist message of the book."
It
should be noted that when Brown, in interviews or in his novel,
refers
to "the Church," or Christianity, he means the Catholic Church. The
Da Vinci Code betrays little awareness that there are non-Catholic
Christians such as the Eastern Orthodox and Protestants; there
is one brief, negative mention of the Church of England (see
page 346). Otherwise, all references are to the Catholic Church,
often referred to as "the Vatican," a term for which Brown
seems to have a special affinity. However, he is not a Catholic,
nor
does he appear to be a former Catholic. Asked, on his site,
if he is a Christian, he replies with confident post-modern
indifferentism:
"I am,
although perhaps not in the most traditional sense of the word.
If you ask three people what it means to be Christian, you will
get three different answers. Some feel being baptized is sufficient.
Others feel you must accept the Bible as immutable historical
fact. Still others require a belief that all those who do not
accept Christ as their personal savior are doomed to hell. Faith
is a continuum, and we each fall on that line where we may. By
attempting to rigidly classify ethereal concepts like faith,
we end up debating semantics to the point where we entirely miss
the obvious–that is, that we are all trying to decipher life's
big mysteries, and we're each following our own paths of enlightenment.
I consider myself a student of many religions. The more I learn,
the more questions I have. For me, the spiritual quest will be
a life-long work in progress."
This
is echoed in a remark made by The Da Vinci Code’s main
character, Harvard "symbologist" Robert Langdon, "Every faith
is based on fabrication. That is the definition of faith–acceptance
of that which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove.
Every religion describes God through metaphor, allegory, and
exaggeration, from the early Egyptians through modern Sunday
school. Metaphors are a way to help our mind process the unprocessible.
The problems arise when we begin to believe literally in our
own metaphors. … Those who truly understand their faiths understand
the stories are metaphorical" (p. 341-2).
Ironically, The
Da Vinci Code hinges upon Langdon having a profound–and
apparently non-metaphorical–faith experience at the novel’s
conclusion, an experience bound up in the "sacred feminine" and
Mary Magdalene. Also interesting is how Brown continually
questions any sort of authority, especially that of the Catholic
Church,
but has such confidence in his personal research into a large
number of complex areas of study–even areas where his lack
of knowledge is obvious to the discerning reader. This is
ironic in light of Brown’s overt relativism and his suspicious
view of history; in true deconstructionist style, he openly
questions
whether we can even know the truth about the past:
"Since
the beginning of recorded time, history has been written by the "winners" (those
societies and belief systems that conquered and survived). Despite
an obvious bias in this accounting method, we still measure the ‘historical
accuracy’ of a given concept by examining how well it concurs
with our existing historical record. Many historians now believe
(as do I) that in gauging the historical accuracy of a given
concept, we should first ask ourselves a far deeper question:
How historically accurate is history itself?" (Dan Brown's personal website)
Brown undoubtedly hopes The Da Vinci Code will
be more than just a best-seller; he apparently wants it to radically
change
perceptions of history, religion, and Western civilization. Asked
if the novel might be considered controversial, Brown again asserts
his desire to promote the "sacred feminine" and to challenge
the commonly accepted understandings of Western culture and Christianity:
"As
I mentioned earlier, the secret I reveal is one that has been
whispered for centuries. It is not my own. Admittedly, this may
be the first time the secret has been unveiled within the format
of a popular thriller, but the information is anything but new.
My sincere hope is that The Da Vinci Code, in addition
to entertaining people, will serve as an open door for readers
to begin their own explorations." (Dan
Brown's personal website)
As noted,
this agenda has not been lost on readers, and many of them revel
in the subversive agenda that Brown undertakes in his thriller.
One mesmerized reader summarizes this fascination quite well:
"With
his impeccable research, Mr. Brown introduces us to aspects and
interpretations of Western history and Christianity that I, for
one, had never known existed . . . or even thought about. I found
myself, unwillingly, leaving the novel, and time and time again,
going online to research Brown's research–only to find a new
world of historic possibilities opening up for me." (amazon.com
review).
As
we will see, the "possibilities" opened up to readers are both
dubious and dangerous, and are rooted in ideas that are not
only contrary
to Catholic doctrine, but also contrary to historical evidence,
sound scholarship, and common sense.
What’s
the Matter With the Code?
The
immense success of The Da Vinci Code and its strong
language about the Catholic Church has resulted in substantial
controversy
over many of the "facts" within its pages. Not only is the novel
influencing the views of non-Catholic readers, it is raising
difficult questions in the minds of many Catholics, some of whom
are being asked about Brown’s interpretation of Church history
and theology. One Catholic reader wrote to Envoy, saying:
"I
own a Catholic bookstore. We are getting bombarded daily by people
who are buying into the garbage in this book. You cannot believe
how many people have been exposed to this book. . . . We even
had an elderly aunt talking about Opus Dei tonight and yelling
at us that the book is true or it couldn't be printed."
Another
reader, a convert from Lutheranism, openly admitted the doubts
that The Da Vinci Code has raised in his mind:
"Honestly,
[reading the book] shook my whole faith. I realize that the book
is fiction, but much of what he wrote about seemed like it was
based on historical facts aside from the characters. Since I
am not a Christian scholar I don't even know where to begin to
refute these claims. As the Catholic Church holds much of the
evidence that would refute the drivel in The Da Vinci Code,
I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction
to a scholarly non-Christian book that might help me make better
sense of the whole historical chain of events. If Christianity
is nothing more than a big accommodation, it becomes relegated
to a lifestyle choice and not a religion, which I do not want
to believe."
We’ve
heard many similar stories in recent months and expect to hear
more, which is the main reason this critique has been written.
Just as the Left Behind books have been used to promote
a Fundamentalist understanding of Scripture and the end times,
The Da Vinci Code has proven to be an effective tool for
attacking Catholic doctrine and undermining faith in the divinity
of Jesus Christ, the authenticity of Scripture, and the authority
of the Church.
"I
queried several in the audience why they were there, and what
their reaction
was to the book and the evenings' discussion. One woman told
of her teenage son who was reluctant to go through the sacrament
of Confirmation, yet after reading the book found a more believable,
understandable, even human Jesus. That actually inspired him
to continue the path. Another person said that such material
added to the mystery, and in doing so served to strengthen her
faith. For one it called into question the credibility of the
teaching of the Church, yet felt that faith needs to be challenged
to be pursued. Others voiced the idea that this book reinforced
a disenchantment with the Church."
This
group, and others like it, obviously emphasize opinion and "feelings" over
careful and objective study. Such an ambivalent approach to the
claims of the novel are summarized well in Rotert’s remark: "Fortunately
the evenings participants did not come expecting Yes/No answers." The
same remark could be made about catechesis in many parishes
today, again highlighting the need for a more rigorous approach
to popular
works such as The Da Vinci Code, especially when many
people are garnering their views of Church history and beliefs
from those sources.
Fiction,
especially best-selling pulp fiction such as The Da Vinci
Code, has become a major means of "educating" the masses
about many, varied topics, but especially those issues that are
controversial and can be easily sensationalized. The belief that
Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene, had children, and was not
divine in any way has existed for several decades in American
pop culture. Yet many, if not most, readers of Brown’s novel
seem unaware of this–even though the novel provides the titles
of several books written in the last two or three decades proposing
such beliefs, most notably Holy Blood, Holy Grail (Dell,
1982) by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln.
Put
succinctly, here are the major problems with The Da Vinci
Code:
- It
attacks the Catholic Church and her beliefs about Jesus Christ,
the Bible, and Church authority.
- It
claims to be completely accurate and based in fact, but it
is not.
- It
rewrites and misrepresents Church and secular history.
- It
promotes a radical feminist, neo-gnostic agenda.
- It
propagates a relativistic, indifferent attitude towards truth
and religion.
In
order to critique the novel thoroughly, we will have to go to
the
heart of Brown’s worldview and his beliefs about Christianity.
There we will find an obsession with the Gnostic, feminist notion
of
the "sacred feminine," an idea that is not so much pro-woman,
as it claims to be, but anti-human and anti-Christian. We will
also find that Brown’s understanding of early Church history
is based on sources and books that are antagonistic to the
Catholic Church and filled with dubious, even disingenuous,
statements
about the Church, Scripture, and Gnostic writings.
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The "Magdalene" and
the Sacred Feminine
Most
of The Da Vinci Code’s story takes place in a period of
about one day, beginning with the murder of the curator of the
Louvre. Robert Langdon, a Harvard symbologist (a word created
by Brown to describe an expert in religious and esoteric symbolism),
is asked by the French police to help interpret a strange cipher
left on the body of the deceased. Langdon is joined in his investigation
by an attractive young cryptologist, Sophie Neveu. Soon they
are suspects in the case and are fleeing from authorities. In
the course of trying to escape and solve the murder, they ally
themselves with wealthy historian and Holy Grail fanatic Leigh
Teabing, an acquaintance of Langdon’s.
Chased
by authorities and an albino "monk" who is a member of Opus
Dei, this small band of iconoclasts and Grail enthusiasts travel
from
Paris to London. Woven throughout the narrative are a series
of lectures by Langdon and Teabing on the identity of the Holy
Grail, the importance of Leonardo Da Vinci and The Last
Supper,
and the "truth" about Jesus and the Catholic Church. After
some obligatory twists and turns, the novel ends with a flat
and
not-so-rewarding conclusion, with Langdon having a sort of
epiphany at the supposed burial place of Mary Magdalene: "With
a sudden upswelling of reverence, Robert Langdon fell to his
knees. For
a moment he thought he heard a woman’s voice . . . the wisdom
of the ages . . . whispering up from the chasms of the earth" (p.
454).
The
main character of The Da Vinci Code is Mary Magdalene–the Mary Magdalene
of neo-Gnostic, feminist mythology. According to the novel,
the "Magdalene" was the apostle of Jesus and is the Holy
Grail. As Sandra Miesel points out in Crisis magazine,
Brown’s "book is more than just the story of a quest for the
Grail–he wholly reinterprets the Grail legend. In doing
so, Brown inverts the insight that a woman’s body is symbolically
a container and makes a container symbolically a woman’s body.
And that container has a name every Christian will recognize,
for Brown claims that the Holy Grail was actually Mary Magdalene.
She was the vessel that held the blood of Jesus Christ in her
womb while bearing his children." ("Dismantling The Da Vinci Code," Crisis, September
2003).
In a
central section of The Da Vinci Code, Langdon and Teabing
educate Sophie about this premise. After explaining that the
chalice of the Holy Grail is not a cup, but a symbol of "a woman’s
womb" that "communicates femininity, womanhood, and fertility," Langdon
states:
"The
Grail is literally the ancient symbol for womanhood, and the
Holy Grail represents the sacred feminine and the goddess, which
of course has now been lost, virtually eliminated by the Church.
The power of the female and her ability to produce life was once
very sacred, but it posed a threat to the rise of the predominantly
male Church, and so the sacred feminine was demonized and called
unclean. It was man, not God, who created the concept of ‘original
sin,’ whereby Eve tasted of the apple and caused the downfall
of the human race. Woman, once the sacred giver of life, was
now the enemy" (p. 238).
He
goes on to claim that "the Church," almost from the beginning, "had
subjugated women, banished the Goddess, burned nonbelievers,
and forbidden the pagan reverence for the sacred feminine" (p.
239). And then, a few pages later, Teabing states that "the marriage
of Jesus and Mary Magdalene is part of the historical record" (p.
245). At that point Teabing produces one of his sources, Elaine
Pagels controversial book, The Gnostic Gospels (1979).
He then quotes from The Gospel of Philip, which describes
Christ kissing Mary Magdalene "on the mouth," offending and
upsetting the disciples.
A
bit later Teabing arrives at what is, it seems evident, Brown’s main
point: "Jesus was the original feminist. He intended for the
future of His Church to be in the hands of Mary Magdalene" (p.
248). Teabing proclaims that this, along with Jesus’ supposed
marriage to Mary Magdalene, is "the greatest cover-up in human
history" (p. 249). He summarizes all of these sentiments by saying, "The
quest for the Holy Grail is literally the quest to kneel before
the bones of Mary Magdalene. A journey to pray at the feet of
the outcast one, the lost sacred feminine" (p. 257). As those
who have read the novel know, that describes exactly how The
Da Vinci Code ends.
None
of these claims are original with Brown, as he admits in the
novel and on his website ("…but the information is anything but
new"). Brown’s depiction of Mary Magdalene as the embodiment
of the "sacred feminine" has been a common theme of recent neo-Gnostic,
feminist works seeking to rewrite early Church history based
upon Gnostic writings such as the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel
of Philip, the Gospel of Mary, and a handful of others.
In addition to Pagel’s work and Holy Blood, Holy Grail,
there are other esoteric histories making similar statements: The
Templar Revelation: Secret Guardians of the True Identity of
Christ by Lynn Picknett and Clive Prince; Goddess in the
Gospels: Reclaiming the Sacred Feminine and The Woman
with the Alabaster Jar: Mary Magdalen and the Holy Grail,
the latter two both by Margaret Starbird, a former Catholic who
has been long associated with Matthew Fox. There are websites
devoted to promoting these ideas about Mary Magdalene. All
of this activity is part of a rapidly growing interest in Gnosticism
and "alternative" forms
of Christianity that are making overt appearances in popular
media, including novels, television, and movies. An example of
the latter was the 1999 anti-Catholic dud, Stigmata, which
depicted the Catholic Church as furiously attempting to cover
up subversive "truths" located in Gnostics works such as the Gospel
of Thomas. A much more successful effort was the hugely popular Matrix,
which melded neo-Gnostic ideas with themes from Buddhism and other
Eastern religions.
The
Rebirth of Gnosticism
The
claims made through the fictional narrative of The Da Vinci
Code cannot be understood without some knowledge of Brown’s
reliance on a neo-Gnostic understanding of Jesus, the early
Church, and Christianity.
Gnosticism
was the greatest challenge to the fledgling Christian faith of
the second and third centuries. Yet, despite its influence, it
is a difficult movement to define precisely because of its esoteric,
decentralized, and eclectic nature. In general, Gnosticism is
dualistic, focused on secret spiritual knowledge (gnosis),
antagonistic towards or uninterested in time and history, and
distrustful–even hateful–towards the physical realm and the
human body. Gnosticism seeks to escape the limits of time and
space,
to transcend the physical and historical realm, and attempts
to obtain salvation through secretive, individualistic means
(see James A. Herrick, The Making of the New Spirituality:
The Eclipse of the Western Religious Tradition [Intervarsity,
2003], 179-203).
In his
seminal study, The Gnostic Religion: The Message of the Alien
God and the Beginnings of Christianity, Hans Jonas explains
that the "radical dualism" of Gnosticism exists on many levels: "God
and the world, spirit and matter, soul and body, light and darkness,
good and evil, light and death" (The Gnostic Religion [Beacon
Hill: Boston, 1958, 1963], p. 31). Ancient Gnostics believed
that the true God is not only beyond the world and the material
realm, He had nothing to do with the creation of material matter: "The
world is the work of lowly powers which though they may mediately
be descended from Him do know the true God and obstruct the knowledge
of Him in the cosmos over which they rule" (p. 42). Put simply,
the material realm is evil and man must escape it. This can
only be accomplished through gnosis, or secret knowledge, of
the true God.
This gnosis is
rooted in the belief that humanity is not meant for this evil,
material world. Dr. Bart D. Ehrman, author of Lost Christianities:
The Battles for Scripture and the Faith We Never Knew (Oxford,
2003), writes that according to this view, "we are trapped here,
imprisoned. And when we learn who we are and how we can escape,
we can then return to our heavenly home." He notes how this concept
resonates with modern readers, "many of whom also feel alienated
from this world, for whom this world does not make sense, readers
who realize, in some very deep and significant way, that they
really don’t belong here" (p. 114). It is also the case that
the individualistic, relativistic, and syncretistic character
of Gnosticism is also appealing to modern men and women who
are distrustful of the Church, believe Christianity to be anti-woman,
and who have a generally negative view of any structure of
authority.
Elaine
Pagels explains that some of the early Gnostics claimed "that
humanity created God–and so, from its own inner potential, discovered
for itself the revelation of truth" (The Gnostic Gospels,
122). Rather than being outside of–and separate from–humanity,
God is a creation of mankind. Salvation is not about overcoming
sin through and by God’s assistance, but is the overcoming of
ignorance through self-knowledge (p. 123-4). Ignorance insures
destruction, while self-knowledge provides liberation and escape
from suffering. This means that the Jesus was not the God-man
who came to save mankind from sin, as orthodox Christians believe,
but is a "teacher, revealer, and spiritual master" who is human
only. In Gnostic teaching, Jesus is not greater than the student,
but he will help the student to transcend him in knowledge and "Christ
consciousness."
Another
key concept embraced by many Gnostic groups was that of an
androgynous God, a deity who is a perfect balance of feminine
and masculine.
Pagels writes, "Some [Gnostic groups] insisted that the divine
is to be considered masculofeminine–the ‘great male-female power.’ Others
claimed that the terms were meant only as metaphors, since, in
reality, the divine is neither male nor female. A third group
suggested that one can describe the primal Source in either masculine
or feminine terms, depending on which aspect one intends to stress." She
adds: "Proponents of these diverse views agreed that the divine
is to be understood in terms of a harmonious, dynamic relationship
of opposites–a concept that may be akin to the Eastern view
of yin and yang,
but remains alien to orthodox Judaism and Christianity" (The
Gnostic Gospels, 51).
The
Gnostic deity is both god and goddess, and the Gnostics despised
the Christians for "suppressing" the feminine nature of the
godhead. In The Da Vinci Code, Langdon lectures Sophie
about this, telling her that "the Priory [of Sion] believes that Constantine
and his male successors successfully converted the world from
matriarchal paganism to patriarchal Christianity by waging a
campaign of propaganda that demonized the sacred feminine, obliterating
the goddess from modern religion forever" (p. 124). This suppression
resulted, Brown’s novel tells readers, in a warped and unbalanced
humanity, overly masculine and lacking in feminine balance:
"The
days of the goddess were over. The pendulum had swung. Mother
Earth had become a man’s world, and the gods of destruction and
war were taking their toll. The male ego had spent two millennia
running unchecked by its female counterpart. The Priory of Sion
believed that it was this obliteration of the sacred feminine
in modern life that had caused what the Hopi Native Americans
called koyanisquatsi–‘life out of balance’–an unstable
situation marked by testosterone-fueled wars, a plethora of misogynistic
societies, and a growing disrespect for Mother Earth" (pp. 125-6).
Many Gnostics not only believed the true God (beyond the god of
this world, the demi-god falsely believed to be God by Jews
and Christians) was androgynous, but that humanity was also
meant to be androgynous, or "masculo-feminine." Some Gnostics
interpreted Genesis 1:27 as saying God created "male-female," not "male
and female." This idea of an androgynous, "whole" humanity
makes an appearance in The Da Vinci Code. In talking
to Sophie about the Mona Lisa, Langdon states, "Whatever Da
Vinci was up to . . . his Mona Lisa was neither male nor female.
It carries a subtle message of androgyny. It is a fusing of
both" (p. 120). This is wishful thinking on the part of Langdon
(and Brown), since the majority
of art historians agree the portrait has nothing to do
with androgyny, but
is simply a masterful painting of an Italian lady, (most likely
Mona Lisa Gherardini, the wife of merchant Francesco di Bartolommeo
di Zanobi del Giocondo). However, the idea that Mona Lisa depicts
an androgynous person does fit with the Gnostic beliefs that
those who were enlightened by gnosis needed to be in pairs–male
and female–forming a perfect whole, or "syzygy." Thus, Jesus
would require a female counterpart who would make him complete;
in Gnostic writings that woman, of course, was Jesus’ "consort," Mary
Magdalen.
The
interconnection between these ancient Gnostic notions and feminist
attacks on Church teaching, especially upon the male-priesthood,
should be apparent. If the male and female genders are not
unique in vital, but equal, ways–as the Catholic Church teaches–but
are the results of an incomplete anthropology, then there is
no reason to keep women from the priesthood or episcopal authority.
If there is no essential difference or distinction between men
and women, then the Church’s refusal to ordain women is simply
a matter of misogyny, not of theological, doctrinal truth.
This connection is readily apparent in works of religious feminists
intent on getting women ordained as Catholic priests (or priestesses).
Finally,
one difficulty in defining Gnosticism, whether ancient or modern,
is its syncretistic nature. As Jonas states, "the gnostic systems
compounded everything–oriental mythologies, astrological doctrines,
Iranian theology, elements of Jewish tradition, whether Biblical,
rabbinical, or occult, Christian salvation-eschatology, Platonic
terms and concepts" (The Gnostic Religion, 25). Today
there are numerous esoteric groups and movements that utilize
Gnostic concepts and writings: wiccans, New Agers, occultists,
radical feminists, neo-pagans, and a host of others. This is
certainly the case with The Da Vinci Code, which makes
reference to a number of esoteric and occultic groups and movements,
but is especially enamored with a radical feminist interpretation
of Church history.
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The
Neo-Gnostic Myth of the Feminist Early Church
The
beliefs about the early Church, Gnosticism, and Mary Magdalen
that are set forth in Brown’s novel date back to the nineteenth
century and the advent of modern feminism. Philip Jenkins points
out, in Hidden Gospels: How the Search For Jesus Lost Its
Way (Oxford, 2001), that "late nineteenth-century activists
saw Jesus and his first followers as protofeminists, whose radical
ideas were swamped by a patriarchal orthodoxy." In addition to
feminists, this "idea that the Gnostics retained the core truths
of a lost Christianity was commonplace among occult and esoteric
writers, many of whom shared the contemporary excitement over
women’s suffrage and other progressive causes" (p. 125). These
writers looked to heretical, Gnostic forms of early Christianity
for material to bolster their belief that Jesus was really a
radical feminist, the Church was initially founded as an egalitarian
and non-dogmatic body, and women were among the first apostles–or
were, as in the case of Mary Magdalene, the primary apostles.
One
of the first Gnostic texts used effectively by feminists was Pistis
Sophia ("The Books of the Savior"), which
was published in English in 1896. In it, Mary Magdalene is depicted
as the foremost apostle of Jesus, while the male disciples are
frustrated by the lack of attention they received from Jesus.
But it was the discovery of numerous Gnostic
texts in 1945 at Nag Hammadi, Egypt, that provided even more
ammunition for those looking to undermine Church authority and
change the
structures and theology of the Catholic Church. Elaine Pagels,
whose popularizing work in this area has been immense, writes, "The
Nag Hammadi sources, discovered at a time of contemporary social
crises concerning sexual roles, challenge us to reinterpret history–and
to re-evaluate the present situation" (The Gnostic Gospels,
p. 69).
As
Pagels’ comment
indicates, the timing of the Nag Hammadi discovery was fortuitous
for those wishing to reinterpret Jesus in their own image and
destroy traditional, orthodox understandings of Christianity. "The
hidden gospels have been used to provide scriptural warrant for
sweeping new interpretations of Jesus," Jenkins notes, "for interpreting
theological statements in a purely symbolic and psychological
sense, and for challenging dogmatic or legal rules on the basis
of the believer’s subjective moral sense. Generally, the hidden
gospels offer wonderful news for liberals, feminists, and radicals
within the churches, who challenge what they view as outdated
institutions and prejudices" (p. 16).
This
perfectly describes the intent of The Da Vinci Code,
which uses a fictional vehicle to promote the same agenda that
a number
of feminist and post-modern scholars have been working on since
the 1960s. Those fans of Brown’s novel who think the author has
somehow stumbled upon new and never seen information might be
surprised to know how commonplace his views are within the realm
of Gnostic and feminist studies. Jenkins’ depiction of the
literature produced within that world could just as well describe The
Da Vinci Code:
"Over
the last century, the literature on hidden gospels, genuine and
fraudulent, has been pervaded by conspiratorial speculations
which suggest that some powerful body (usually the Roman Catholic
Church) is cynically plotting either to conceal the true gospel,
or to plant bogus documents to deceive the faithful. Such ideas
run through the many novels and fictional presentations on this
them: in the Hollywood film Stigmata, the Vatican is shown
desperately trying to suppress a "Jesus Gospel," which is unmistakably
modeled on the Gospel of Thomas" (p. 18).
It
would take an entire book to address thoroughly all of these
intertwining
topics and answer each of the questions they raise (Jenkins’ book
is a good place to start; others are listed at the end of this
article). But here, in abbreviated form, are some important
points about these issues, all of them central to The Da Vinci Code.
The
feminist idea that the early Church was an egalitarian body lead
by both female and male bishops and priests is based on flimsy
premises and lacks historical evidence. This has even been admitted,
in part, by Pagels, who stated in the 1998 PBS program From Jesus to Christ, "I don’t see a picture of a golden
age of egalitarianism back there. I see a new, unformed, diverse,
and threatened movement which allowed a lot more fluidity for
women in certain roles for a while, in some places and not in
others" (quoted in Jenkins, p. 132). Feminist
scholars speculating about the first few decades of the early
Church usually treat the New Testament documents with suspicion,
claiming that they are the work of those men who finally gained
control over the Church through the suppression of women. Using
a "hermeneutics of suspicion," these scholars must ignore early
evidence that the Church was founded by Christ and its leadership
on earth given to twelve men (Matt. 10:1ff; 19:28; Lk. 22:25-30;
Jn. 20:20-24) led by Peter (Matt. 16:15-19), and must instead
insist upon using texts that were written anywhere from fifty
to three hundred years after the New Testament documents.
In
addition, there is the misleading notion that the Gnostic writings
are
consistently pro-woman, while the New Testament writings–and
thereby the authors of those books–are anti-woman. This idea
also arises in The Da Vinci Code. After quoting from the Gospel
of Mary Magdalene, where Peter complains about Mary’s closeness
to Christ, Sir Leigh Teabing states: "I daresay Peter was something
of a sexist." (p. 248). He then remarks that "Jesus was the original
feminist. He intended for the future of His Church to be in the
hands of Mary Magdalene" (p. 248).
But
Brown never bothers to have his characters quote from the final
verse of the Gospel of Thomas, the most famous of the
Gnostic texts. That verse states: "Simon Peter said to them: ‘Let
Mary leave us, for women are not worthy of life.’ Jesus said, "I
myself shall lead her in order to make her male, so that she
too may become a living spirit resembling you males. For every
woman who will make herself male will enter the kingdom of heaven" (v.
114). This passage and others like it do not fit well with the
feminist view of the Gnostics, just as the Church’s positive
treatment of women throughout history does not compare well
with the negative picture often depicted by feminist groups.
One
such group is the "Catholic" organization FutureChurch, which
states in an online article that "the
Montanist and Valentinian Churches, which had both male and female
leaders, were eventually suppressed. Scholars say that the Montanist
and Valentinian communities were orthodox. They were suppressed
not because their teachings were heretical, but because women
as well as men engaged in leadership." In fact, almost all scholars,
including many feminists writers, acknowledge that the Montanists
and Valentinians were outside the Church and considered heretical
for numerous reasons, including attacks on the deity of Christ
(Valentinians), the authority of the Church (both groups), an
obsession with prophetic utterances (Montanists), and dualist
views (Valentinians). Even Elaine Pagels states that "Valentinian
gnosticism" was "the most influential and sophisticated form
of gnostic teaching, and by far the most threatening to the church" (The
Gnostic Gospels, p. 31). Unfortunately, such misguided attempts
to use ancient, heretical movements for modern, heretical ends
are becoming increasingly common.
The
Dating Game
The
dating of the New Testament writings and the Gnostic writings
is essential to appreciating the serious errors found in The
Da Vinci Code and in the works of neo-Gnostic enthusiasts.
If Gnostic works such as the Gospel of Mary and the Gospel
of Thomas were written at the same time as the canonical
Gospels, the Pauline corpus, and the other New Testament books
(which are dated from 50 to 100 AD, even by many "liberal" scholars),
then the early Church resembles the picture painted by feminist
scholars–one in which various groups existed equally, at least
for a while, within a democratic, theologically fluid era.
According to this premise, the hierarchical and male-dominated
Church came
much later, in the second and third centuries, and Jesus was
not deified as the God-man until the time of Constantine. This
is essentially the scenario depicted in The Da Vinci Code (see
p. 230ff).
However, if the Gnostic books weren’t written until several
decades, or even centuries, after the New Testament books,
a different picture
emerges. In it, the Gnostic writings are reactionary, the result
of the intense struggle of heretical sects against the established
teachings of the Church and the apostles. These struggles erupted
in the second century, especially noticeable around 135 to 165
A.D., and continued for quite some time. The nature of this struggle
can be seen in the writings of orthodox apologists such as Irenaeus,
who wrote his great polemic refuting Gnosticism (especially the
Valentinians), Against Heresies, around 180 A.D.
Put
another way, Gnosticism began to infiltrate the Church in full
force in the mid-second century, many decades removed from
the life of Christ, the apostles, and the formation of the Church–a
distance in time similar to modern-day scholars looking back
at the lives of Abraham Lincoln, or even George Washington. Gnosticism
would have been a movement arising outside of Christianity, even
though some overlapping of language and concepts may have existed,
due in part to a shared culture and the Gnostic interest in the
Old Testament. Some Gnostic proponents claim that a full-fledged
Gnosticism is evident within the Church in the person of Simon
Magus (Acts 8:9-13), but this view is speculative at best. Hans
Jonas writes that Simon was "not a dissident Christian, and if
the Church Fathers cast him in the role of the arch-heretic,
they implicitly admitted that Gnosticism was not an inner-Christian
phenomenon." (The Gnostic Religion, p. 103).
An important
characteristic of Gnostic writings is how much they vary in character
from the canonical writings: they are non-historical, or even
anti-historical, in style and content and they contain little
narrative or sense of chronology. The Nag Hammadi documents,
as highly touted as they are, have offered few, if any, new or
illuminating details about the life of Christ or events in the
early Church. This is due in part to the documents being written
generations after the fact as well as the anti-historical bias
of Gnosticism, which scorns the belief that the true God would
care about the material, historical realm. In concluding his
examination of the veracity of the Gospel of Mary and
other Gnostic texts, Jenkins writes, "These uncanonical texts
were written at a time when the episcopal hierarchy was already
well established, when the early house churches were a distant
memory, and when the canonical gospels were already widely
known as the principle authorities for the life of Jesus. Mary and
its like come from a time when the church had already fixed its
gospel canon at four. Despite claims that Mary was excluded
or omitted from that canon, presumably because of its subversive
feminism, the work was much too late a candidate even to be
considered" (p.
141).
Jenkins’ conclusions
are supported by the majority of biblical scholars. For example,
Dr. Bart Ehrman of the University of North Carolina, in his
book Lost
Christianities: The Battles for Scriptures and the Faiths We
Never Knew (Oxford, 2003), dates none of the Gnostic gospels
before the "early 2nd century." Many are dated in
the third, fourth, and fifth century (pages xi-xv). The introductions
to the Gnostic works contained in The Nag Hammadi Library (Harper,
1979, 1988), edited by James M. Robinson, acknowledge the same
dates, even though they argue that the Gnostic writings should
be considered just as authoritative as the Four Gospels. Even Holy
Blood, Holy Grail, which takes extreme liberties in its "scholarship" (Teabing
remarks, in The Da Vinci Code, that "the authors [of Holy
Blood, Holy Grail] made some dubious leaps of faith in
their analysis" [p. 254]–an amusing understatement), states, "Modern
scholars have established that some if not most of the texts
in the [Nag Hammadi] scrolls date from no later than A.D. 150" (p.
380).
All
of this flies in the face of Teabing’s assertion in The Da
Vinci Code that "more than eighty gospels were considered
for the New Testament, and yet only a relatively few were chosen
for inclusion–Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John among them." (p.
231). Far from there being "eighty gospels" considered for the
canon at the time of Constantine in the early 300s, there were
only five or six still being considered in the mid-second century.
By the late second century the
early Church recognized the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and
John as the four inspired by the Holy Spirit and meant for the
canon of the New Testament. As Jenkins shows, "the process of
determining the canon was well under way long before Constantine
became emperor, and before the church had the slightest prospect
of political power. The crucial phase occurred in the mid-second
century . . ." (p. 85).
In
fact, there was already a growing consensus about the entire
New Testament
canon by the middle of the second-century, even though it would
not be defined on an official (though not universal) level until
the late-300s and early-400s in a series of local synods. Justin
Martyr, writing around 150 A.D. and explaining the liturgy of
the Christians to his non-Christian readers, speaks of the apostles
and "the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels,
have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them" ("The First Apology," 66). Tertullian, writing around the same
time, defends the four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, thirteen
Pauline epistles, the epistle to the Hebrews, and 1 John and
The Apocalypse against the Gnostic ideas of Marcion ("Five
Books Against Marcion," 4.2, 4.5). A couple of decades later
Irenaeus specifically refers to the four Gospels and their authors
and implies that they are granted a unique status within the
Church:
Matthew
also issued a written Gospel among the Hebrews in their own dialect,
while Peter and Paul were preaching at Rome, and laying the foundations
of the Church. After their departure, Mark, the disciple and
interpreter of Peter, did also hand down to us in writing what
had been preached by Peter. Luke also, the companion of Paul,
recorded in a book the Gospel preached by him. Afterwards, John,
the disciple of the Lord, who also had leaned upon His breast,
did himself publish a Gospel during his residence at Ephesus
in Asia. (Against Heresies, 3.1.1)
A
bit further on, Irenaeus writes, "It is not possible that the Gospels
can be either more or fewer in number than they are" (3.11.8)
and again prominently mentions Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
further proof that that the number of gospels recognized as
authoritative within the Church was set at four at least 150
years prior to
Constantine and the Council of Nicaea.
[Part
Two of this special Planet Envoy critique of The
Da Vinci Code will take on the topics of Mary Magdalene,
Constantine, the Council of Nicaea, and author Dan Brown’s
views of Jesus Christ.]
Recommended
Resources:
Sandra
Miesel's critique of The Da Vinci Code appeared in the September
2003 issue of Crisis magazine. Sandra is a medievalist
and an authority on esoteric groups and beliefs.
Father Andrew Greeley's review in National Catholic Reporter of Dan Brown’s
novel makes several good points. Although his review contains some
dubious statements, Father Greeley points out that the book is
anti-Catholic and full of ridiculous errors, stating, "Brown knows
little about Leonardo, little about the Catholic church, and little
about history." He is entirely correct.
Some comments that I've made on Envoy Encore about the novel, pointing
out some its the more overt errors and unsubstantiated claims.
"Does The
Da Vinci Code Crack Leonardo?", a New York Times article
by art historian Bruce Boucher, demonstrates that Brown's novel
is full of big holes in the art department:
"Cracking the Da Vinci Code," is a short commentary by Margaret
M. Mitchell, Associate Professor of New Testament at the University
of Chicago Divinity School and the Chair of the Department of New
Testament and Early Christian Literature.
The writings of Early Church
Fathers are available online on the New Advent site.
A popular, accessible history of the early Church is One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic (Ignatius), written
by Kenneth Whitehead.
A more scholarly work, written by a non-Catholic, which examines
many of the issues raised in The Da Vinci Code, is The Hidden Gospels: How the Search for Jesus Lost Its Way (Oxford),
written by Episcopalian Philip Jenkins. A chapter titled "Daughters
of Sophia" discusses the feminist use of Gnostic writings and the
concept of the "sacred feminine."
Searching for the Real Jesus in an Age of Controversy (Harvest
House) by Dr. Douglas Groothuis is an excellent introduction
to radical, feminist, and New Age attempts to rewrite Church
history
and undermine the Christian understanding of Jesus Christ. Written
for a popular audience, it contains helpful information about
Gnosticism and the "Gnostic Jesus." It is currently out of print,
but used copies can be found on abebooks.com. Also, several of Dr. Groothuis’s articles on
Gnosticism and its modern "rebirth" are available online:
- "The Gnostic Gospels: Are They Authentic?"
- "The New Gnostics and the Wisdom of Irenaeus"
This Envoy article about
the Council of Nicaea may also be helpful.
As for Mary Magdalen, this article from the Catholic Encyclopedia has some good
information.
Finally,
a thorough introduction and critique of modern feminism (including
its use of Gnostics beliefs and writings) can be found
in Manfred Hauke’s God or Goddess (Ignatius).