In 1947, near the banks of the Dead Sea, Bedouin tribesmen
found seven crumbling scrolls hidden in caves since the time of
Christ. By the end of 1956, archaeologists had discovered 800
scrolls in the desolate Judaean wilderness near the ruins of
Khirbet Qumran. In biblical times, a mysterious religious sect
lived in the place twenty miles east of Jerusalem, deemed by
historians to be both a monastery and a fortress. While its exact
nature is uncertain, the sect is said to have been Essene, and
author of the scrolls.
Yet the question of who wrote the scrolls is now a matter of
fierce international debate. Renegade scholars contend the site
was not home to a sect at all, but, in fact, the outpost of a
militant, nationalistic movement. These militants who wrote the
scrolls, they say, were the early Christians.
If so, the ship of religion and Western civilization may be
foundering in high seas. We of the Judeo-Christian world, it
seems, may have to take another look at who we are and where we
come from. It isn't easy, though. A mysterious veil has settled
over the Dead Sea, over the scrolls and their meaning, keeping
them hidden still. In the meantime, tantalizing clues link them
with sources found as far away as Tibet. Some of the most
important texts, one-fourth of the entire corpus, have only
recently seen the light of day. Dominican priests, said to be
fearful of their implications, kept the scrolls secret for
decades while publicly denying their relevance. And today, the
scrolls remain one of the most controversial and puzzling finds
of our time.
From the beginning, an atmosphere of intrigue cloaked the
discovery. Early on, an agent of the newly formed CIA examined
one of the manuscripts in Damascus, Syria. But any possible role
the CIA could have played in the subsequent drama remains
unclear. In the political turmoil surrounding the formation of
the state of Israel, it was uncertain what nation owned the
texts, let alone who wrote them. The scrolls changed hands on the
black market, passing from Bedouins to shady antique merchants.
Years passed. As if some sinister force had cast a spell upon the
discovery, the world, it seemed, had failed to realize its
significance. Indeed, in 1954, an intriguing advertisement in the
Wall Street Journal offered some of the genuine Dead Sea Scrolls
for sale. Shortly thereafter, the already enigmatic scrolls were
hidden behind another veil of secrecy, the Vatican's.
Under the lax auspices of the Israeli Antiquities Department,
which had painstakingly acquired the scrolls from black market
and other sources, the Ecole Biblique et Archologique, a
Dominican body, took possession of the scrolls. While slowly
translating and publishing copies of Biblical and apocryphal
texts, the Ecole kept another category of manuscripts secret.
Until recently, one fourth of the entire corpus, scrolls dealing
with the political, cultural and mystical nature of the
mysterious Qumranians, remained unpublished. Some scholars
suggest that the Dominicans, in keeping the scrolls secret for so
long, acted on the Vatican's behalf, because the texts threaten
beliefs about Christian origins. The suggestion, it turns out, is
based on history.
In the nineteenth century, just as science was taking up the
empirical method, the Vatican was assembling an institution to
deal with archaeological discoveries and scientific theories
pertaining to biblical history. With new-found authority,
archaeologists were demonstrating the truth or falsity of
religious myths, Heinrich Schliemann's discovery of ancient Troy
being a notable example. As archaeologists excavated the ruins of
the Temple at Jerusalem, the Vatican recognized a threat. In the
old days, heretics would simply be burned at the stake. But this
was the nineteenth century, so the Vatican created an
intellectual guardian of the faith, the Ecole Biblique et
Archologique Franaise de Jerusalem. Today the Ecole,
while financed in part by the French government, is still
composed largely of Dominican priests.
To deal with the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Ecole worked in
semi-secrecy, forming an international team composed mostly of
Dominicans. The team, after monopolizing the texts, meticulously
pieced them together, translating them from Aramaic and ancient
Hebrew. Secrecy notwithstanding, a few facts about the Ecole and
its team are know with certainty. Their reason for being: the
interpretation of archaeological evidence that pertains to Roman
Catholic dogma. Their methods: refusing access to certain Dead
Sea texts, and perhaps others, that deal with the pivotal period
between 150 B.C. and A.D. 60. Their motive: to neutralize debate
about the political, cultural and religious context of early
Christianity. We know, also, that other finds, such as the Nag
Hammadi corpus, went public rather quickly compared to the Dead
Sea texts.
In the press, the Ecole's delaying tactics provoked charges of
scandal. Scholars trying to gain access protested, having been
refused for decades. The Ecole's Father De Vaux promised
publishing dates as early as 1970, and then, In 1989, offered
1997 as a possibility, an incredible fifty years after the
initial discovery. Herschel Shanks, editor of the prestigious
Biblical Archaeological Review in Washington, D.C. charged that
piecing together and decoding thousands of crumbling fragments
written in ancient Hebrew and Aramaic, an ancient jigsaw puzzle,
was too great a task for the team. He said they would never
publish the scrolls because the team was too small. Shanks, as we
shall see, was right. The scrolls went public through other
channels.
In the fall of 1991 everything changed. The Huntington Library
in California announced, magically, that it had a set of
photographs of all the Dead Sea Scrolls. Back in 1961, Elizabeth
Bechtel, wife of Kenneth Bechtel of the megalithic but shadowy
Bechtel Corporation, somehow acquired the photos and entrusted
them to the Huntington. How Mrs. Bechtel came into their
possession is unclear, perhaps through her husband's connections
with middle-Eastern governments. The Ecole team and the Israeli
government demanded the photos. The Israeli Antiquities
Department even charged the library with theft, without legal
basis since Israel had taken possession of the scrolls as a form
of war bounty. Undaunted, the Huntington Library responded by
offering scholars access to the photographs for a mere ten
dollars. The ancient veil had parted, at least somewhat.
So, what do the scrolls actually say?
Interpretations vary. But some phrases suggest the Qumranians
may have had a lot to do with the early Church. What gives the
scrolls weight is that the Bible, and Jesus, speak in Qumran-like
phrases and cadences, using terms like zeal, liar, law, and
others that renegade scholars Robert Eisenman and Michael Wise,
in their book The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered, associate with the
mentality of the militant Zealots who challenged the Roman
domination of Palestine. Moreover, Jesus fierce denunciations of
the Pharisees imitates the tone and character of the scrolls,
specifically the community council curses the sons of belial, as
translated by Eisenman, a fierce execration of the Angel of The
Pit and The Sons of Belial. John the Baptist also speaks and acts
much like a zealous Qumranian. And the route to the Jordan River,
where he baptized Jesus, passes very near the Qumran ruins. Jesus
and his followers would at least have known of the settlement.
More-over, the gospels, the Beatitudes, the Sermon on the Mount
repeat key words and concepts from the scrolls as if the
terminology and context were second nature to Jesus and the early
Christians. In short, since the scrolls predate the Bible,
written after A.D. 60, early Christianity may derive from the
Sect at Khirbet Qumran.
So the scrolls may be as relevant to early Christianity as the
Bible, though most scholars squeamishly reject this. But looking
at the New Testament, the renegade scholars identify specific
passages that suggest not only a connection to Qumran, but an
origin there. Some texts refer to Qumranians as Followers of the
Way, using the exact phrasing found in the New Testament. The
Bible in fact is rife with Qumranianisms that, when put in
context, give those phrases a revolutionary meaning. Especially
revealing is the use of the Hebrew Ebionim, meaning The Poor,
found in the Hymns of the Poor. Synonyms familiar to Christians
appear as well, the Meek, the Downtrodden.
Steven Feldman, also with the BAR in Washington, states that
the common phraseology of the scrolls and the New Testament was
simply that, the talk of the times, and that linkage of
Qumranians with early Christians springs from the fringe of
biblical scholarship. Yet historical evidence has often
contradicted Christian dogma, the beginning of creation in 4,000
B.C., for instance. If historical evidence links early
Christianity with the militant Zealots, then the contradiction
becomes dramatic indeed.
Ancient copies of the scrolls turned up at Masada, the Jewish
fortress besieged by Rome in the first century. Jewish Zealots
there apparently revered the scrolls, presumably as adherents to
the Qumranian form of Judaism. Outnumbered and starving, the
rebels committed mass suicide rather than succumb to Rome's
suppression of their spiritual and national identity. That some
historians see Khirbet Qumran as a fortress, not a monastery,
with connections to the Maccabean Revolt of the first century
B.C., contradicts the long-held notion of a pacifist Essene
community on the banks of the Dead Sea. With New Testament links
to the scrolls, and scrolls turning up at Masada, the image of
early Christians appears more akin to that of the rebels in Star
Wars fighting the Darth Vader of Roman hegemony than that of meek
followers of the Lamb.
Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh, authors of The Dead Sea
Scrolls Deception, argue that a pacifistic Jesus was very
unlikely. As the authors point out, Qumranian phrases flowed from
his lips, sometimes word for word. Traditionally, scholars
concede that at least some Zealots made up Jesus inner circle.
The Bible itself reveals him acting in a Zealot-like way, driving
the money changers out of the Temple. He states in the gospels: I
am come not to bring peace, but a sword. In the same vein, when a
cohort of Roman soldiers comes for him in Gethsemane, Peter
raises his sword against them, hardly the act of a meek
Christian. As revealing is the number of soldiers in a Roman
cohort, six hundred. Why send six hundred soldiers except in
anticipation of armed resistance? And crucifixion, remember, was
the method of execution for rebels, not rabbis. These biblical
events, in conflict with Christian tradition, do not conflict
with the Qumran context. On the contrary, they fit.
Through gleanings from the gospels, however, and from more
obscure sources that we shall explore, Jesus appears nothing less
than a revolutionary, albeit a deeply mystical one, drawing on
traditions from a far broader geographic and spiritual context
than even the renegades of modern scholarship dare speculate. Was
the master of Galilee far from Palestine, as some claim, during
the time of unrest? Could he have been in India, or Tibet, and
returned to political chaos? The Bible itself, specifically the
letters of Paul, supplies some clues.
Woven through the poetic and mystical language, the scrolls
reveal a devotion to Jewish Law that, if we are dealing with
early Christianity, seems to preclude Paul's evangelism among the
Gentiles, who were strictly off limits to the supposedly
xenophobic Qumranians. Unfortunately, the Bible provides little
historical information about the Early Church. What is known has
been gleaned from historians writing centuries later. Reliable
accounts vanished with the fall of the Jewish Temple in A.D. 70,
the burning of the library at Alexandria and, as Morton Smith has
suggested, with the possible suppression of texts written by
Jesus himself. The writings of the apostle Paul, however, help
explain how early Christianity may have evolved from a fervent
nationalistic Judaism into the spiritual movement that swept the
Western world. Also, Paul's experience on the road to Damascus
may provide another piece in the puzzle, mystical communion.
After the death of Jesus, Paul traveled and preached beyond
Judea and Palestine, actions inconsistent with the religious
nationalism of the Qumranians, or Judaism for that matter,
although his language resembles that of the scrolls. Was he a
Roman agent infiltrating the Jewish rebels, co-opting the
movement, as Baigent and Leigh suggest? Or was he a mystic
teacher inspired by progressive revelation? Let's look more
closely at his story.
After being struck by his vision of Jesus on the road to
Damascus, Paul sets out for Rome, Greece and Asia Minor,
spreading a new religion that extols Faith in Christ, in contrast
to the scrolls, the writings of James Jerusalem Church, which, we
are told, extol Jewish law and works over faith. Keep in mind the
New Testament did not yet exist. Christian doctrine, as we know
it, did not manifest until the Council of Nicaea in A.D. 325. Yet
Paul makes Jesus into an Eastern-style avatar, like Krishna,
capable of leading his followers into a divine state, a mystical
promised land. He preaches joint heirship with Christ, a oneness
through inner contact, the force of the Star Wars trilogy, a
blend of eastern mysticism and Persian dualism that to this day,
though biblical, defies orthodoxy (where spiritual parity with
Christ is blasphemy). Paul speaks of an inner man of the heart,
much in the way the Vedas of ancient India speak of a inner
spiritual identity united with Brahman, the All. The Dead Sea
Scrolls also speak of this identity, suggesting ties, or at least
shared knowledge, between Eastern mystics and the Jews of the New
and Old Testament. That the scrolls resemble the Jewish mystical
writings known as Kabbalah, support this as well.
Eisenman offers the following revealing translation from a
Dead Sea text, called The Beatitudes for its similarity to the
biblical passage of the same name. His translation reads: Bring
forth the knowledge of your inner self. This phrase (among others
in Western scripture) appears to derive from the Vedas of India,
just as Jesus referring to himself as the Light of the World
evokes Krishna's language in the Bhagavad Gita. Implicit in the
translation is that this self, or atman in the Sanskrit, is the
identity of Brahman, or God, residing mysteriously within the
individual. (the force?) This teaching is not Judeo-Christian in
the orthodox sense. So, do the traditions of East and West have a
common origin in eastern mystical experience?
Other evidence tells us that Jesus taught the initiatic
mysteries, the science of immortality, like the great Eastern
mystics. In 1958 at a Greek Orthodox monastery in the Judaean
desert, Morton Smith discovered a letter written in A.D. 200 by
Clement of Alexandria. The letter speaks of a secret gospel of
Mark, a more spiritual gospel, Clement writes ... read only to
those who are being initiated into the great mysteries. This
intriguing letter, written long before Eusebius, speaks of a
secret mystical tradition without nationalistic borders. That
Jesus taught and participated in this tradition is more than
likely. So doing, he, in all likelihood, was no slave to regional
agendas, rising beyond symbols of relative good and evil, Jew and
Gentile, while fiercely opposed to spiritual evil embodied in
corrupt priests.
Could it be that Paul seized the kernel of Christian and Vedic
wisdom, leaving behind the rind of politics, that as a mystical
initiate in Eastern wisdom that he attempted to bring to the
Western world? The teachings of Joint Heirship and the inner man
of the heart seem to do exactly that, suggesting spiritual parity
with Christ, the path of oneness in the Dead Sea Scrolls, stated
as: Bring forth the knowledge of your inner self. Could this be
the real threat the scrolls present, spiritual freedom,
individual enlightenment as opposed to subservience to orthodoxy?
Going a step farther, was this pursuit of mystical oneness at the
heart of early Christianity?
Texts from a Tibetan monastery provide some clues.
For many years rumors have suggested that the Vatican holds
exotic texts about the life of Jesus Christ, which would
drastically alter traditional beliefs about Christian origins. In
1887 a Russian traveler, Dr. Nicholas Notovitch, claimed he
discovered these texts in a monastery at Himis, Tibet. Returning
to Russia he wrote The Unknown Life of Jesus Christ, a book about
Jesus journey eastward as a young man, his lost years. Another
book by Notovitch, The Life of Saint Issa, describes Jesus
studying and teaching the Vedas in India. Taking up with a
caravan at an early age, the story goes, Jesus traveled the Silk
Road, then to Kapilavastu, birthplace of Buddha. While in India,
he fiercely denounces the Hindu priest-class, the Brahmins, in
much the same way he denounces the Pharisees in Matthew's gospel,
which, as stated, resemble the tone of the Dead Sea texts. An
Indian Swami, Abhedananda, published a Bengali translation of the
Buddhist texts in 1929. The same year, Nicholas Roerich, the
painter and explorer, traveled the far East. Transcriptions from
his diary reveal a mystical teaching on the Divine Feminine given
by Jesus in India, again, similar to teachings in the scrolls,
and a decidedly different view of reality than that of the
Vatican.
If it seems a stretch that Jesus traveled to India, studied
the Vedas, that Vatican clerics stashed away Buddhist accounts of
his journey, then remember the Vatican-founded Ecole Biblique and
its handling of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Consider that Thomas, the
follower of Christ, journeyed to and built a mission in India,
where faithful Christians worship to this day.
If Jesus spent much of his short life in India and Persia, as
the texts say, far from the din of Palestine, the alleged
militancy of early Christianity becomes less of an issue. On his
return, Jesus would have found himself in the midst of zealotry
and rebellion, which he would have, it seems likely, honored in
principle. If he was God, he was also man, as the gospels point
out, telling us he wept and got angry, much like the rest of us.
Why should we deny him the right to be caught up in the struggle
of his people?
Pieces of this puzzle, scattered across time, tell us there is
more to early Christianity, more to ourselves, than Western
tradition reveals. The truth reaches from crumbling texts, barren
landscapes, into the most inward part of us, prompting us to
remember the force, to solve the mystery from within. The battle
over the nature of Christian origins rages nevertheless, like the
battle over the Holy Land itself, as if the most sacred treasure
stands to be won or lost, and this is more than likely the truth.
As the veil parts above the Dead Sea, the real treasure revealed
may prove to be that of our own history, our origin. Our soul.