Before discussing the book itself, please don't miss the 60's roots of the title characters -- yeah, Peter, Paul and Mary. The folk trio rocketed to success with their simple melodies and radical lyrics (in many cases, written by other artists like John Denver and Bob Dylan). Their songs energized a generation, providing a soundtrack for that generation and giving voice to their aspirations and hopes, as well as their fears.

The biblical Peter, Paul and Mary likewise emerge as strong and persuasive voices for the generation that saw the birth of Christianity. And if we don't have the words they themselves used, we do have records of what was said about them. Ehrman believes that this latter collection is a vital ingredient in the formation and belief of the early church, and thus merits our close examination.

Peter, Paul, and Mary are significant not only because of who they actually were, as historical figures of the first century, but also because of how they were "remembered" in later centuries, as legends sprang up about them, legends that were often assumed to be "Gospel truth" by those who heard and told them. During the first three hundred years of Christianity -- which will be my focus in this book -- Peter was widely known as one who could do spectacular miracles leading to massive conversions to the faith. He was said to have the power to heal the sick, cast out demons, and raise the dead. Some of the stories about him will strike modern readers as more than a bit bizarre -- as when he raises a smoked tuna fish from the dead in order to convince his onlookers of the power of God, or when he deprives a maleficent magician of his power of flight over the city of Rome, leading to a crash-landing, demise, and death. Paul as well had legends told about him: he too was a great miracle-worker, whose handkerchiefs and aprons could be taken to the sick to restore them to health and who baptized a talking lion that later refused to devour him when he was thrown to the wild beasts in the arena. Paul in particular came to be known as a great advocate of asceticism, preaching that eternal life would come to those who abstained from the joys of sex, even if married. Modern readers may find it surprising that this message resonated among many ancients -- some of whom abandoned their marriage bed in exchange for a more blessed existence in the hereafter. Mary Magdalene herself came to be known for her sex life -- or at least for her previous sex life, as stories began to circulate that she had been a prostitute whom Jesus reformed, and who then shared an unusually intimate relationship with him before his death. Later legend sent her to France as one of the first missionaries to western Europe.

None of these stories about Peter, Paul, and Mary is historically accurate. But that does not mean they are unimportant. The people who retold these stories -- and those who heard them -- believed them to be accurate portrayals of the past. What is more, they told these stories because they expressed so well their own beliefs, concerns, values, priorities, and passions. If we are interested not only in the lives of the original followers of Jesus, but also in the lives of those who told stories about them in later times, there is no better place to turn than the stories circulating about Peter, Paul and Mary.

Some scholars would argue that we ourselves are not so different from the storytellers of the ancient world, that when we recount what happened in the past, we too do so not merely to show what really happened, but because what happened is important to us, today, for our own lives. That is to say, at the end of the day, no one has a purely antiquarian interest, an interest in the past for its own sake. Instead, we are interested in the past because it can help us make sense of the present, of our own lives, our own beliefs, values, priorities, of our own world and our experience of it. If this view is right -- and I happen to think it is -- then strictly speaking there is no such thing as a "disinterested" study of the past: all of us who study it are in fact interested in it, for how it can help us think about ourselves and our lives. (p. 10-11)

If you hear echoes of Mormon critical scholarship in these words, you're not alone. But there is a subtle difference: while Ehrman, and other biblical scholars, admit that historicity is less important than the presence of the documents themselves, Mormonism pins its authority and place in God's plan on the historical reality of the seminal events in Restoration history -- the First Vision, the restoration of the priesthood, the visits of Moroni to Joseph Smith, etc.

One must ask, "Why isn't historicity more important to these biblical scholars?" To be sure, some will insist that the historical narratives are accurate and true, but, as Ehrman himself shows, there is the thorny problem of inconsistencies in the accounts. In considering the passion narratives, for example, Ehrman points to some important differences in the gospel accounts (p. 281-282). He follows this with a fundamental rationale that informs the entire work:

Scholars of the New Testament have long recognized the reason for these differences. Our surviving accounts have all been modified in the process of retelling. The modifications sometimes contribute to an author's or storyteller's overall portrayal of Jesus in his last hours. That is to say, when someone changed the story, it usually was not because he had new information and simply wanted to set the record straight. More commonly it was because he wanted to make a point about Jesus and did so by altering the details of the story. (p. 282)

Should Ehrman have subtitled his book, In Defense of Sacred Smudging? Because this is precisely his point: belief in a person, in a system, in a revelation, develops over the years as the needs of the community change. Sacred writers can, and do, alter the historical record where such alterations serve the greater good of promoting and energizing belief. This is, after all, the aim of religion -- to foster faith in the unseen through the acts and teachings of the seen.

One can hardly read Mormon history without noticing a certain threshing effect, as its official storytellers attempt to separate the wheat from the supposed chaff in the historical narratives. The existence of the historical record is an ongoing challenge to such efforts to purify and sanitize the story.

Ehrman would insist that this "threshing" is not only inevitable, but valuable. In fact, as the community changes, so does the narrative. Tracking these changes can be a valuable practice when studying the changing dynamic of a movement. Placing the various tellings of the First Vision side by side, for example, can teach us a lot about the evolving view of God in the mind of the Mormon community. And certain changes to the Book of Mormon also reflect important shifts in the perceptions of the growing religion.

Peter, Paul, and Mary Magdalene is a rich source of information on these three New Testament notables. Mormon readers will enjoy these added insights, enlarged views of such prominent players in the gospel story. Perhaps it is time for some enterprising Mormon scholar to "go and do thou likewise" -- to bring together the many historical and mythical accounts of the life of Joseph Smith, etc. We've seen such collections of stories, say, about the Three Nephites. I say, More!

This is a wonderful book. As with all of Ehrman's books, Peter, Paul, and Mary Magdalene is compulsively readable, always entertaining, and leaves the reader with a sense of wonder at the richness of the Christian tradition. I am very glad to recommend this book very highly.

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Jeff Needle
April 17, 2006