It also further illustrates the diversity of "Christian" belief from this period. But this hardly justifies Ehrmann's and Pagel's sensationalist claims. Anyone who has read the church fathers already knows about this diversity, and the fathers have been around for 1,800 years. What happened was that in the middle of last century scholars found ancient copies of the documents to which the fathers refer. So what is new is not "diversity" but the copies. In this sense there was, and is, no "myth of a monolithic religion" in the Second Century to be exploded. We have known about this for a long time.

So why the fuss? Ehrmann and Pagels, by reading this Second Century diversity back into the first, want to suggest that the idea of a common core of orthodox belief in the First Century is a fiction imposed later by a hierarchical church. In other words the unity of the NT is the result of a conspiracy (enter The Da Vinci Code).

For others, the Gospel of Judas offers a more accurate account of what happened before Jesus' death. But one can no more read back Second Century evidence into the first than one can read the 20th Century use of "gay" to mean sexual orientation back into 19th Century reports of "gay" times at church picnics. Since the only concrete evidence for this kind of diversity is from the Second Century, the simplest and therefore most likely the best explanation is that, as the church expanded geographically and attracted more people, the greater the risk of various fringe groups forming outside of mainstream. In other words, this is only evidence of growing diversity away from a core First Century tradition, not of an initial First Century diversity.

As Rodney Stark argued, when the First Century church father Ignatius took his long walk to Rome and martyrdom, the fact he was well received at small Christian communities along the way suggests they shared a common conception of their faith.

Ehrmann and Pagels are engaging in wishful thinking - and they really ought to know better. There was no conspiracy and there is no myth to be exploded. Finally, does GJu tell us anything about what really happened? Almost certainly not. The wild speculations of the group who created GJu do not inspire confidence. Would you buy a used car from these people?

If there was a secret conversation between Judas and Jesus, both of whom died soon afterward, to whom was this story told and how was it passed on? Some might suggest by Judas' friends or family. But if Jesus did not share this secret teaching with the 12 whom he had chosen to be with him for nearly three years, why would Judas just a few days or hours later share it with his even more unenlightened outsiders like his family or friends?

Further, if Judas truly was the uniquely enlightened figure GJu suggests and, if he was acting directly on Jesus' instructions, why would he have committed suicide (assuming of course that he did, and did not end up marrying Mary Magdalene's cousin before heading to India where he and Jesus spent the rest of their days)?

Perhaps the biggest question is this. If all Jesus needed was to be freed from his mortal body, why use Judas? Why not just hand himself over or throw himself sans angels from the Temple (as in the Temptation)? Why the charade of a betrayal at all? Indeed, just how reasonable is it to suppose that after spending three years with Jesus, the only one of his followers who really knew what was going on was Judas? Not very.

A friend who works with Revenue Canada at a border crossing once told me: the truth is bottomless. No matter how many questions you ask, the answers will fit. Clearly this is not the case with GJu. Even a few simple questions like these see the whole thing begin to unravel. Everything suggests this is a later attempt by a fringe group to rewrite a well entrenched betrayal story to fit their own particular agenda.

So yes, GJu is a new and interesting discovery for students of an aberrant and marginal Second Century group. But I suspect that once the circus has left town, more sober minds will see it for what it is: a great deal of overblown fuss about a mildly interesting curiosity.