The Lost Gospel by Joe Edd Morris: A review and a special note

This book, as you might gather from the title, involves something called the "Q gospel," the original lost sayings of Jesus. It is set in modern-day Israel and in the Israel of the years following Jesus' death. It follows the adventures of archaeologist Christopher Jordan and ancient manuscript expert Kathryn Ferguson as they attempt to transport two recently discovered jars that are believed to contain early Christian documents and get them into the custody of experts who know how to handle them.

The jars had been discovered by an American fundamentalist student who was working on a dig in the area and that student, when we meet them, is acting as a driver for Kathryn and Christopher. The ownership of the jars, if their existence were known, would be in dispute between the Israeli and Palestinian antiquity authorities, one more possible escalation of the ongoing percolating resentment in the region. The student/driver is hardly a dispassionate observer of events; rather his fundamentalist religious leanings give him a definite prejudice in the matter.

The second timeline of the story takes us back to 67 A.D. and the life of Jairus who was an early chronicler of the sayings of Jesus in and around Galilee. We also meet Jairus' friend Ezra who guides and advises him. We see how the decision was made to seal these documents recounting Jesus's sayings in jars and to hide them in what, in the 21st century, are disputed territories ruled by Israel.

I liked the way that Morris was able to build his story by alternating between the two timelines. In doing so, he is able to explicate the realpolitik of this fraught region of the world in both ancient and modern times. Moreover, it is easy to see a bright line leading from the turmoil of the Roman era to the powder keg situation that seems to be the region's constant political state of affairs today.

This book combines two of my favorite interests: archaeology and thrillers/mysteries. Overall, it was a very satisfying read.

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Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention that this is Banned Books Week in America, a week to shine a bright light on the untiring efforts of some in this country to control what we and our children are able to read. My suggestion is that we as readers familiarize ourselves with the list of books that the fascists are attempting to ban and read them all as if our freedom depended on it. Because it does. Let's make sure we are never reduced to the point of having to seal our books in the equivalent of clay jars and hide them away to keep them safe.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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