Book review: When Christ betrayed Jesus

Book: The Good Man Jesus And The Scoundrel Christ
Philip Pullman
Penguin
245 pages
Rs499

At some point scriptural texts and theological tracts turn to story-telling for obtaining some purchase on the attention of their readers, believers and acolytes. There is no religion, myth or belief system that does not have a set of stories — moral, evidentiary, testimonial — at its heart. Philip Pullman, celebrated children’s author, here retells one of the greatest inspirational, change-inducing stories ever told: that of Jesus Christ. 

“This is the story of Jesus and his brother Christ, of how they were born, of how they lived, and of how one of them died.” Thus opens Pullman’s account.

Mary and Joseph have twins, one strong and healthy, the other weak and sickly. It is this weaker baby in the trough that the wise men, the Magi, see when they come looking for the messiah. The stronger baby is Jesus, the weaker one, anointed the messiah, is named Christ (another name for ‘messiah’). Jesus is a naughty child, forever getting into trouble, and Christ’s job consists of bailing him out of trouble. Jesus becomes a carpenter, but after hearing John the Baptist, decides to abandon his profession.
Jesus now becomes an itinerant preacher, and slowly gathers a following. Christ, meanwhile, has a visit from a stranger. The stranger tells him, “I want the world to know your name as well as that of Jesus … He is a man, and only a man, but you are the word of God.” Christ begins to follow Jesus on his tours, and records all that Jesus says. The stranger appears again and tells Christ: ‘Sometimes there is a danger that people might misinterpret the words of a popular speaker. The statements need to be edited, the meanings clarified … 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.”

Jesus has begun to achieve cult status by now, and the fateful events race to a climax. His miracles of healing bring him fame, even as his  stories about the Kingdom of God induce hope of emancipation and salvation. Christ faithfully and unobtrusively records all this, and the stranger periodically takes all the records away. Christ “wrote down every word, but he resolved to improve the story later.” 

It is Christ who betrays Jesus to the authorities in Pullman’s retelling. Jesus is brought to trial and crucified. The stranger persuades Christ that he now has a stellar role: “you are the missing part of Jesus.” The tomb is opened and some shadowy figures take away Jesus’ body. When the time comes for the crucified Jesus to rise again, Pullman’s story does another twist. Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb, finds the body missing and turns to see Christ standing there. Doubting Thomas examines Christ’s body, but there are no marks of crucifixion. And the story spreads: Jesus had returned. 

Pullman writes: “At first he was Jesus, simply; but then he began to be called Jesus the Messiah, or Jesus the Christ and later still it was simply Christ … The stories began to weave themselves together.” Years later, the stranger — Pullman suggests it could be a man who wanted to build and guard a church — returns and tells Christ: “the vessel that will carry the precious love and teaching of Jesus Christ to the ages of the future is the church, and the church must guard that love and teaching … the story will be told many times … in the years to come we shall sort out the helpful versions from the unhelpful.” Christ protests, but understands: “I want to play with it [the story of Jesus] … to give it better shape … without the story there will be no church.” Thus concludes Pullman’s tale, a tale as much about Jesus as it is about the power of stories and the institutional (here the church) reliance on and interventions in story-telling. 

Pullman’s emphasis is not on the theological or doctrinaire aspect of Jesus Christ, but on the way narratives build realities, dreams and the future. That a messiah demands and requires a story-teller might seem terribly awkward but Pullman’s point is that people need stories. Embellishments, emendations, alterations and editions have made stories into scriptures, doctrines, moral laws and legal doxa, suggests Pullman, and we need to recognise the fictional, narrative foundations of any faith or belief system — from paganism and animism to organised religion. Without such stories there would be no faith, or even hope.

Pramod K Nayar teaches English at the University of Hyderabad.