Perhaps Sherlock Holmes is not the most expected starting place for discussing a book about Judas Iscariot, but The Doomed Disciple owes much to Holmes' methods. In light of this fact, I thought it best to present an overview of these methods here, as if recorded by his faithful chronicler, John Watson. This is the third of four such articles. In the first, Holmes is seen discussing the gospels themselves, and in the next three articles, Holmes discusses three of the major players in my novel, The Doomed Disciple. These would be: Joseph of Arimathea, Simon the Leper, and finally, Judas Iscariot himself.
If you have not read the first two in this series, you may do so by clicking the links below:
I hope you enjoy these fictional memoirs as these fictional characters discuss the reality of Biblical claims, using very real methods to test their validity. For your enjoyment:
A Scandal in Bethany
“Alright, Holmes, I admit that I am absolutely mystified,” I said the next morning over breakfast. It was still early, and though it promised to be another terribly warm day, the breeze coming through our rooms at Baker Street from an open window was cool and not yet entirely saturated with smoke. “I took a look through all four gospels last night three times over, and I failed entirely to discover anything new, and nothing so critical to the sequence of events as you had me believing last night.”
“No?” Holmes asked, his eyes twinkling as they always did when he knew a secret which others did not. “I'm surprised at you, Watson; I thought you might have applied my methods to a better result than this.” He leaned back in his chair and placed his napkin on the table.
“Perhaps I did not wish to steal your secrets before you had a chance to reveal them,” I countered in a bought of unusual petulance.
Holmes scoffed. “They are not my secrets, Watson. They aren't even secrets, for anyone willing to find them. They are simple facts—subtle, but there, regardless. Tell me, Watson, what did you discover in your reading?”
“To be honest, I'm not even convinced the four accounts by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are even about the same dinner,” I admitted. “Matthew and Mark have a woman pouring oil on Jesus's head, while Luke and John have her applying it to his feet, instead. Obviously, Matthew and Mark are referring to the same incident, but the accounts in Luke and John bear some peculiar differences.”
“Such is the nature of eyewitness statements,” Holmes said. “Have you so quickly forgotten our conversation with Mrs. Hudson some days ago? No, there are too many vivid similarities for these to be of different events. Of course, Luke was likely not present at the dinner; most of his accounts are from other eyewitnesses, and he often pairs together stories of a similar nature, regardless of temporal considerations. The same can be said of Mark, though it is possible that his account was based on Simon-Peter's testimony, taken second-hand.” Holmes shrugged. “It is impossible to say. However, such trivial differences like where the oil was applied can easily be reconciled based only on one's location at the table. Someone further away would have had a much more difficult time of seeing what was going on, and might have assumed the oil was for his head. Or perhaps they saw the woman anoint his head, but did not see her pour the rest upon his feet. Someone closer might neglect to include the anointing of Jesus's head, since this was customary, and hardly noteworthy in consideration of the other events.”
I nodded slowly. “If these are the same event, then let me see if I can outline the facts upon which all agree: Matthew and Mark agree that this dinner was in the town of Bethany. Luke gives no location, and John explains that this event was six days before the Passover, at a celebratory dinner for Lazarus.”
“The dinner was for Jesus,” Holmes corrected me. “Lazarus is present, but John later says that more people came to the dinner to see Lazarus than to see Jesus. If Lazarus was the guest of honor, there would be no reason to make this clarification.” Holmes poured himself another cup of coffee. “More coffee, Watson?” he asked. “Drink while the coffee is hot and the day is cool.”
I heartily agreed and finished off the pot while Holmes rang the bell to have the maid clear away our breakfast. “It is at this dinner,” I continued after a sip of vitalizing coffee, “that a woman intrudes upon the guests and pours a very expensive bottle of oil upon either the head or the feet of Jesus, the guest of honor.”
“Quite so,” Holmes agreed. “I believe the best interpretation of the facts, as they have been presented, is that both are correct. A bottle worth nearly a year's wages would not have been a small one, even of expensive oil,” he explained, “and to pour such an amount over someone's head would have left them quite unpresentable.”
“You believe she anointed his head with a small portion and used the rest to wash his feet?” I asked.
Mrs. Hudson appeared before Holmes could answer my question. She was an excellent housekeeper, and always stepped in when the usual maid was otherwise occupied.
“Ah, Mrs. Hudson!” Holmes said cheerily. “We were just discussing a certain Mr. Simon Pharisee. Would you care to stay a bit and make his acquaintance?”
Holmes laughed as Mrs. Hudson gave him a sidelong glance. “In spirit, Mrs. Hudson,” he explained. “I am afraid that the real Mr. Pharisee has been dead some eighteen centuries at least.”
“Is this another one of your games, Mr. Holmes?” she asked warily.
“Games? No, no, my dear Mrs. Hudson, no games,” Holmes protested amiably. “Only a way to pass the time until some mystery presents itself. London is in a most pitiable state of lawfulness. But I know your interest in the subject, and I thought it useful to display another instance where the powers of reason blend so readily with the gospel accounts.”
I quickly drew up another seat to the breakfast table as Mrs. Hudson agreed to join our little chat. “You are speaking of the dinner where the sinful woman washes the feet of Christ with the spikenard?” she asked.
“Precisely,” Holmes said. “A most costly oil, especially at the time. You are familiar with the story, then?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson said. “The woman washes his feet with her hair and her tears in gratitude for what Christ did for her, but the disciples are upset at this usage, and it is there that Judas Iscariot decides to betray his master for greed.”
“For greed?!” Holmes asked in shock.
“Yes,” Mrs. Hudson said.
“I hardly think so,” Holmes replied somewhat hotly. “However, it is not Judas who is the focus of this discussion, but his father.”
“Whose father?” Mrs. Hudson asked.
“Why, Judas's father,” Holmes said in perplexity.
“I did not think Judas's father was ever mentioned,” I said, regaining my seat.
“Mentioned? My dear Watson, he is the host!”
“The host?!” I cried. “How can you possibly know that?”
Holmes laughed. “Why, Watson, it is simplicity itself: one must only take all the facts as presented and blend them together. When all four accounts are compared, the fact becomes quite obvious. Watson, do you recall the incident at Charing Cross some weeks ago?”
“Yes,” I said. “That robbery in broad daylight.”
“The same,” Holmes said. “I spoke to several witnesses there, and all gave accounts which were similar, but disagreed on various points.”
“Such is usually the case,” I replied.
“Indeed, but do you recall that one particular gentleman, Dr. Seward, who had lingered about, listening to our questions and waiting for an opportunity to speak with us?”
“Yes,” I agreed, “it appeared as if he had witnessed the entire affair.”
“Quite so, yet his account was practically incoherent, as he skipped over most of the essential details which he knew the other witnesses had already covered. Instead, he added careful details here and there that fleshed out the other accounts, and which eventually led to the arrest of the criminal.”
“Yes, I recall it vividly,” I replied.
“John's account is much like this. Taken on its own, it seems to include the strangest details while neglecting many others, but if one realizes the likelihood that it was written later, to fill in the details of the other accounts—much like our eyewitness at Charing Cross—things begin to fall into place quite easily.”
“I believe you are coming to a point with all this,” I said.
“Yes!” Holmes said, now fully warmed to the topic. “Here is a superb example of why multiple witnesses are so vital. Matthew and Mark both say that the dinner was at the house of Simon the Leper in the town of Bethany. Luke never mentions the location, but John adds the additional detail that this dinner was six days before the Passover—the final Passover, you understand—not more than a week before the crucifixion.”
“John also mentions Lazarus, where the other gospels do not,” I added.
“You are right, Watson!” Holmes agreed. “John is the only account to mention Lazarus, and John already explained that Lazarus lived in Bethany. The fact that he, and his two sisters, are at this feast, corroborates the claim that this dinner was in Bethany. He also mentions that there was a plot to kill Lazarus by the council. This could explain why the earlier gospels removed him entirely from the narrative; they did not wish to draw undue attention to him. John, writing later, understood that this was no longer a problem—one way or another—and included Lazarus and his sisters. You will notice that Mark and Matthew only mention a woman, while Luke includes the fact that she has a bad reputation—she is considered a sinner. John names this woman as Mary, Lazarus's sister. There is another incident recorded only in John, and that is the incident of the harlot who is dragged before Jesus in the Temple.”
“Jesus writes something in the dust, and her accusers leave,” Mrs. Hudson said.
“The same. Historians believe this story to be a late addition to John's account, likely to further explain why the woman was called a sinner by Luke, and why she was so grateful as to purchase such expensive oil as a gift of gratitude.”
“You're saying that Matthew, Mark, and Luke were hesitant to publicly stain Mary's reputation?” I asked.
“Precisely so. By the time John wrote his account, the scandal would have been less of an issue,” Holmes agreed. “Either the story was already well-known or Lazarus's family was already slain by the growing persecution. John does not specifically mention that these two stories are related, but given Mary's response, it makes sense as to why her gratitude was so great. Without it, her motives are far harder to understand, and there is no other reason to add it into the narrative at such a later date if not to explain this particular story in more detail.”
“All that is very logical,” I replied, “but I still fail to see what evidence you have to indicate that Simon is Judas's father.”
“Is it not obvious, Watson?” Holmes asked. “John specifically says that Judas is Simon's son. Though John gives no name for the banquet host, Matthew and Mark have already named this host as Simon. There is no reason why John would name Judas's father unless it relayed some vital fact to the story. John simply forgets to name the host. John is merely clarifying what has already been said. Much like our key witness at Charing Cross, he forgets to include the obvious fact which makes sense of this trivial detail. The detail can only be explained when compared to the other accounts.”
“That's brilliant, Holmes!” I cried.
Holmes scoffed. “It is the purest simplicity, Watson. The facts could not be stated more clearly.”
A thought struck me as Holmes took a drink of coffee. “That would explain why Judas is so upset at this dinner!” I said.
Holmes cocked an eyebrow. “Indeed, Watson?” he asked, eyes twinkling.
“Yes!” I said, warming to the idea as it continued to work through my mind. “Luke records some specifics of the conversation, and Jesus complains to the host that he did not offer Jesus any water for washing or the customary greeting of the day. It would appear as if Jesus, who was supposed to be the guest of honor, was not treated very hospitably. He calls out this insult, and explains that the woman is performing the rights of hospitality which Simon himself has failed to perform. If this Simon was indeed the father of Judas, it would explain why Judas took offense at Jesus's remarks, as they were humiliating to his father.”
“Very good, Watson!” Holmes said. “It would have been foremost in the disciples' minds when they were seeking some reason for Judas's betrayal. This dinner, which was less than a week before, would have flashed back into their minds. Judas's father had insulted Jesus, and Jesus had in turn insulted Simon as a poor host. It was a memorable incident which provided plausible motive for Judas's betrayal.”
“If this host was not the father of Judas, and only some unnamed Pharisee, there would have been no motive,” I said, thinking aloud. “Jesus had publicly humiliated countless Pharisees before.”
“Yet Simon was no ordinary Pharisee,” Holmes said. “Not only was he Judas's father, but Matthew and Mark both call him 'Simon the Leper.'”
“But he could not have been a leper, Holmes,” I countered. “Lepers were outcasts; they would have been unable to host a banquet.”
“What does this fact indicate, Watson?” Holmes asked.
I had to think a moment, but the answer came to me. “He must have been a former leper!”
“Leprosy was considered incurable,” Holmes countered.
“Yet there was one Man who could do so,” I reminded him. “Do you think Jesus healed him?”
Holmes shrugged. “Perhaps. Jesus gave the power to heal to his ordained twelve. It might have been Jesus or one of his followers. Who can say? Simon's healing is not recorded, but I find it unlikely that the healing would have been procured from any other source than Jesus or his followers. It might have been Judas himself.”
“That would explain why he hosted a banquet, despite the fact that there was some dislike between himself and his guest...” I mused. “He felt obligated to repay the debt.”
“Precisely,” Holmes agreed. “You should recall that by this point in his ministry, Jesus was openly hated by the majority of the Sanhedrin. For a Pharisee to invite Jesus into his home, there must have been some powerful incentive, such as extreme gratitude for being healed of a fatal and lingering illness.”
“And the Pharisees were rigid observers of ritual cleanliness,” Mrs. Hudson commented. “Leprosy would have been anguishing to anyone, but especially to a man with such beliefs.”
“He must have been intensely conflicted,” Holmes agreed. “Who can judge the motives of such a man? Caught between his belief that following the law brings health, and the fact that his actions failed to prevent him from catching leprosy, then caught between his loyalty to his sect, and his healing by such an enemy as Jesus?” Holmes shook his head. “It placed Judas in an extremely difficult position as well. One can easily understand why Simon the Leper is so critical to understanding the complete series of events over the following days, and the part Judas played in them.”
“You're not saying you condone Judas's actions!” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, rising to her feet in shock.
Holmes smiled patiently and held up a hand. “I do not say that I condone them, Mrs. Hudson, but I do sympathize with his plight.”
“Sympathize?!” she cried. “With such a villain?!”
“My dear Mrs. Hudson, I am not convinced that Judas is a villain at all.”
She folded her arms, glaring at him coldly. “You had best explain yourself, Mr. Holmes.”
“In that case, Mrs. Hudson,” Holmes said calmly, “you'd best bring up another pot of coffee.”
For more information on these people or my novels, check out these links:
The Doomed Disciple, by Paul Campbell
Grayscale by Paul Campbell
The Complete Annotated Sherlock Holmes, by William S. Baring-Gould
Cold-Case Christianity, by J. Warner Wallace
Jesus through Middle Eastern Eyes, by Kenneth E. Bailey
I must give significant credit for this article and The Doomed Disciple to the late Kenneth E. Bailey, whose research and insights into the gospels through the lens of this cultural perspective help shed new light on familiar stories, adding important details that Western cultures have often left in obscurity. I highly recommend the book to any armchair detectives with an interest in the gospel accounts or the parables of Jesus Christ.
Comments