The Gospel according to Philip


An occasional “hobby” that comes and goes is reading English translations of ancient apocryphal documents that did not make it into the New Testament canon but are nonetheless available for reading, especially with the coming of the wonderful internet. Anyone who doubts that the world wide web is “wonderful” should imagine how George Washington would view it. George wouldn’t even have my frustration with the wi-fi in my house, which cuts on and off depending not only on where I am in the house or in a room, but even depending on where I sit on the sofa in our family room. If I sit here it works fine. If I move to the other end, or even to the middle, the dee thing cuts off on me and I have to do that Network Diagnostics nonsense, sometimes over and over until it catches and holds. George Washington would be astonished at the wonder of it.
Some folks who have been in Bible studies with me over the years have enjoyed studying some of those old writings with me. An interesting one that often comes up around Easter is the Gospel of Peter, in which as witnesses watch, two men come down from heaven and roll the stone away from the tomb. They then enter the tomb and come out with a third man, supported between them, and the cross following them. The two men are so tall that their heads reach up to heaven, but the head of the man between them reaches up beyond heaven. A voice is heard, “Did you preach to those who sleep?” (that is, to the dead), and the cross answers, “Yes.” That’s pretty weird, eh?
A couple of other ancient writings often come to mind when we have a baptism coming up, and especially if it’s my Sunday to preach. One is the Acts of Paul, in which an enormous lion confronts Saint Paul and wants to be baptized; so Paul baptizes him. Another is the Gospel of Philip. Years ago I read a line in Philip saying that at his baptism, Jesus came up out of the water laughing. Going back years later I could never find it; but this morning I started from the beginning and read through the entire Gospel of Philip, and (illogically) down toward the end there it is, or at least something that reasonably suggests it. I always loved the image of Jesus at the Jordan River, being baptized and then bursting up through the surface of the water laughing. Happiness, even laughter, is appropriate. My own way to get people smiling at a baptism was always, after the child was baptized, walking down the aisle with my aspergillum and sprinkling everyone in the congregation with the consecrated holy water in which the child was just baptized.
Another ancient document that we’ve studied in Bible groups from time to time is The Infancy Gospel of Thomas. In one section Jesus is five years old, playing with other children in a stream. They are molding animal figures with clay, Jesus making clay birds. Unfortunately, it happens to be the Sabbath, and a child runs and tattles to Joseph what Jesus is doing. Joseph comes and angrily demands that Jesus explain why he is doing forbidden things on the Sabbath. Jesus simply claps his hands and shouts at the clay birds he has made, and they fly away. 
Some other things came back this morning during my re-reading the Gospel of Philip. Whoever put it together (late second or early third century) speaks emphatically and insistently of the Sacred Spirit (Holy Spirit) as “she,” even saying the Sacred Spirit could not have impregnated Mary because who ever heard of one female impregnating another female; insisting that Mary was a pure virgin, not impregnated by anyone. GPhilip also speaks of the three Marys who went about with Jesus all the time: his Mother, his Sister, and Magdalene his Mate. GPhilip says Jesus loved Mary Magdalene more than all the other disciples, and often kissed her on the mouth.
Well, the Nicene Creed says "... and was made man" doesn't it? 
Don’t shoot the messenger.
TW+