Philip Pullman: The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ

‘Those who are well-spoken of, and praised by the powerful, and flattered and fawned over by loud voices in public places, will be cursed. They will have no place in the Kingdom.’

The people cheered at these words, and crowded close to hear more of what Jesus was saying.

But at the edge of the crowd someone had noticed what Christ was doing as he noted down the words of Jesus, and said, ‘A spy! Here’s a spy from the Romans – throw him off the mountain!’

Before Christ could defend himself, another voice spoke beside him:

‘No, friend, you’re wrong. This man is one of us. He’s writing down the words of the teacher so he can take them and tell others the good news.’

Christ’s accuser was convinced, and turned back to listen to Jesus, forgetting Christ in a moment. Christ saw that the man who had defended him was none other than the stranger, the priest whose name he had not managed to learn.

‘Come aside with me for a moment,’ said the stranger.

They withdrew from the crowd, and sat under the shade of a tamarisk.

‘Am I doing the right thing?’ said Christ. ‘I wanted to be sure I heard him correctly, in case there was any judgement later.’

‘It is an excellent thing to do,’ said the stranger. ‘Sometimes there is a danger that people might misinterpret the words of a popular speaker. The statements need to be edited, the meanings clarified, the complexities unravelled for the simple-of-understanding. In fact, I want you to continue. Keep a record of what your brother says, and I shall collect your reports from time to time, so that we can begin the work of interpretation.’

‘These words that Jesus is saying,’ said Christ, ‘they might be seditious, I think. The man thought I was a Roman spy… It wouldn’t be surprising if the Romans did take an interest, would it?’

‘Very shrewdly observed,’ said the stranger. ‘That’s exactly what we have to bear in mind. Political matters are delicate and dangerous, and it requires a subtle mind and a strong nerve to negotiate them safely. I’m sure we can rely on you.’

And with a friendly squeeze of Christ’s shoulder, the stranger got to his feet and moved away. There were a dozen questions that Christ wanted to ask him, but before he could utter a word, the stranger was lost in the crowd. From the way he had spoken about political affairs, Christ wondered if his first guess had been right: perhaps the stranger was not just a priest, but a member of the Sanhedrin. That was the council that settled all doctrinal and judicial matters among the Jews, as well as dealing with Jewish relations with the Romans, and its members, of course, were men of great wisdom.

Christ took his tablet and stylus and moved to a place where he could hear what his brother was saying. It seemed that someone had asked Jesus to tell them about the law, and whether what it said was still valid in the time of the Kingdom of God.

‘Don’t anyone think I’m telling you to abandon the law and the prophets,’ Jesus said. ‘I haven’t come here to abolish them. I’m here to fulfil them. I’m telling you truly: not one word, not one letter of the law will be superseded until heaven and earth pass away. If you break one of these laws, even the least of them, beware.’

‘But there are degrees, aren’t there, master?’ someone called out. ‘A little sin isn’t as bad as a big sin, surely?’

‘You know there’s a commandment against murder. Where would you draw the line? Would you say murder is wrong, but beating someone is maybe a little less wrong, and just being angry with them isn’t wrong at all? I’m telling you that if you’re angry with a brother or a sister, by which I mean anyone at all, even if you’ve just got a grudge against them, don’t dare to go and offer a gift in the temple until you’ve made your peace with them. Do that first of all.

‘And I won’t have any talk about little sins and big sins. That won’t wash in the Kingdom of God. The same goes for adultery. You know the commandment against adultery: it says don’t do it. It doesn’t say “You must not commit adultery, but it’s all right to think about it.” It isn’t. Every time you look at a woman with lustful thoughts, you’re already committing adultery with her in your heart. Don’t do it. And if your eyes keep looking that way, pluck them out. You think adultery is bad, but divorce is all right? You’re wrong: if you divorce your wife for any reason other than her unchastity, you cause her to commit adultery when she marries again. And if you marry a divorced woman, you commit adultery. Marriage is a serious business. So is hell. And that’s where you’ll go if you think that as long as you avoid the big sins, you can get away with the little ones.’

‘You said we mustn’t be violent, master, but if someone attacks you, surely you can fight back?’

‘“An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”? Is that what you’re thinking about? Don’t do it. If anyone hits you on the right cheek, offer him the left as well. If anyone wants to take your coat away, give him your cloak to go with it. If he forces you to go one mile, go two. You know why that is? Because you should love your enemy, that’s why. Yes, you heard me right: love your enemies, and pray for them. Think of God your Father in heaven, and do as he does. He makes the sun rise on the wicked as well as on the good; he sends the rain to fall on the righteous as well as the unrighteous. What’s the good of loving only those who love you? Why, even a tax-collector does that. And if you care only for your brothers and sisters, you’re doing no more than the Gentiles. Be perfect.’

Christ wrote this all down diligently, taking care to inscribe ‘These are the words that Jesus spoke’ on each tablet, so no one should think they were his own opinions.

Someone was asking about almsgiving.

‘Good question,’ said Jesus. ‘What you should do when you give alms is to shut up about it. Keep silent. You know the sort of people who make a great spectacle of their generosity: don’t do as they do. Let no one know when you give, or how much you give, or what cause you give it to. Don’t even let your left hand know what your right hand is doing. Your Father in heaven will see, don’t worry about that.

‘And while I’m talking about keeping quiet, here’s another thing to be secret about: and that’s prayer. Don’t be like those ostentatious hypocrites who pray out loud and let the whole neighbourhood know about their piety. Go to your room, shut the door, pray in silence and in secret. Your Father will hear. And have you ever heard the Gentiles pray? On and on, yakkety yak, blah blah blah, as if the very sound of their voices were music in the ears of God. Don’t be like them. There’s no need to tell God what you’re asking for; he knows already.

‘This is how you should pray. You should say:

‘Father in heaven, your name is holy.

‘Your Kingdom is coming, and your will shall be done on earth as it’s done in heaven.

‘Give us today the bread we need.

‘And forgive our debts, as we shall forgive those who are indebted to us.

‘And don’t let the evil one tempt us more than we can resist.

‘Because the Kingdom and the power and the glory belong to you for ever.

‘So be it.’

‘Master,’ someone called out, ‘if the Kingdom is coming, as you say, how should we live? Should we carry on our trades, should we build houses and raise families and pay taxes as we’ve always done, or has everything changed now we know about the Kingdom?’

‘You’re right, friend, everything has changed. There’s no need to worry about what you’re going to eat or drink, where you’re going to sleep, what you’re going to wear. Look at the birds: do they sow or reap? Do they gather wheat into the barn? They don’t do any of those things, and yet their Father in heaven feeds them every day. Don’t you think you’re more valuable than the birds? And think what worrying does: has anyone ever added a single hour to the length of his life by worrying about it?