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Marie-Madeleine - La femme au flacon d'albâtre, Jésus et le Saint Graal
Margaret Starbird's theological beliefs were profoundly shaken when she read Holy Blood, Holy Grail, a book that dared to suggest that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalen and that their descendants carried on his holy bloodline in Western Europe. Shocked by such heresy, this Roman Catholic scholar set out to refute it, but instead found new and compelling evidence for the existence of the bride of Jesus--the same enigmatic woman who anointed him with precious unguent from her alabaster jar.
In this provocative book, Starbird draws her conclusions from an extensive study of history, heraldry, symbolism, medieval art, mythology, psychology, and the Bible itself. The Woman with the Alabaster Jar is a quest for the forgotten feminine--in the hope that its return will help restore a healthy balance to planet Earth.
In this provocative book, Starbird draws her conclusions from an extensive study of history, heraldry, symbolism, medieval art, mythology, psychology, and the Bible itself. The Woman with the Alabaster Jar is a quest for the forgotten feminine--in the hope that its return will help restore a healthy balance to planet Earth.
246 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 1993
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September 9, 2008
"I cannot prove that Jesus was married or that Mary Magdelen was the mother of His child... but I can verify that these are tenets of a heresy widely believed in the Middle Ages; that fossils of that heresy can be found in numerous works of art and litterature, that it was virulently attacked by... the Church of Rome; and that it survived in spite of relentless persecution." And, one might add, doctoring of the texts.
As the Rev. Father Sweeney says in his preface, "Until the Church can offer real proof that Jesus was celibate, those who search... for the truth about Jesus and His family should be not feared or scorned, but greatly commended."
The important thing about this book is that it shows how orthodox christianity picked and chose what it wanted to teach, and did not hesitate to eliminate (and burn, after 1233, when the Holy Inquisition was created) those who raised an eyebrow.
That a (previously) orthodox theologian is willing to contemplate that orthodoxy might have been wrong (and not just in its inhumane methods) is a breath of fresh air, and maybe the first step towards rehabilitation for the millions of women who fell victim of Christian sexism.
What makes this book not just a must-read but a pleasure, is its tone, its gentleness and its humanity: the author could have chosen to be contentious, or angry, or proselytic, but instead, she uses the simple style of a storyteller to deliver her alternative narrative, one which must be voiced if one hopes to understand much of history (why, fo example, were most gothic cathedrals devoted to "Our Lady" and not to the Virgin Mary or the Mother of God, if not to preserve ambiguity — and consensus?).
As the Rev. Father Sweeney says in his preface, "Until the Church can offer real proof that Jesus was celibate, those who search... for the truth about Jesus and His family should be not feared or scorned, but greatly commended."
The important thing about this book is that it shows how orthodox christianity picked and chose what it wanted to teach, and did not hesitate to eliminate (and burn, after 1233, when the Holy Inquisition was created) those who raised an eyebrow.
That a (previously) orthodox theologian is willing to contemplate that orthodoxy might have been wrong (and not just in its inhumane methods) is a breath of fresh air, and maybe the first step towards rehabilitation for the millions of women who fell victim of Christian sexism.
What makes this book not just a must-read but a pleasure, is its tone, its gentleness and its humanity: the author could have chosen to be contentious, or angry, or proselytic, but instead, she uses the simple style of a storyteller to deliver her alternative narrative, one which must be voiced if one hopes to understand much of history (why, fo example, were most gothic cathedrals devoted to "Our Lady" and not to the Virgin Mary or the Mother of God, if not to preserve ambiguity — and consensus?).
June 28, 2008
The first few chapters, where the author is laying out an alternative reading of the Bible's Mary Magdalen, are intriguing. The Bible is so vague and open to interpretation, it's interesting to hear Starbird's ideas.
The later chapters, where Starbird presents "evidence" for a cover-up of the importance of Mary Magdalen and Jesus' descendant(s) are intended to be scholarly but come across as laughable. Watermarks, tarot cards, unicorn tapestries... these are her proof. Each symbol is interpreted to "clearly" indicate the worship of Mary the wife, not Mary the mother.
Halfway through the book, I began to look at Starbird's evidence with another theory in mind. Perhaps all these secret symbols were not meant to indicate that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalen... perhaps they were meant to indicate that he was a space alien from the planet Mars. My theory was as "clearly" supported by the evidence presented as Starbirds. The M stood for Mars, not Mary. The Unicorn was pointing at the heavens, not representing Our Savior's phallus. Etc.
What this book "clearly" demonstrates is the age-old fact that researchers find what they look for. According to the dust jacket, Starbird has a master's degree. From where? Crackerjack University? Nowhere that teaches rigorous researching methods, that's for sure.
It's a shame that Starbird's valid point about the marginalization of the feminine in the Catholic church is buried under such ridiculous "proof."
The later chapters, where Starbird presents "evidence" for a cover-up of the importance of Mary Magdalen and Jesus' descendant(s) are intended to be scholarly but come across as laughable. Watermarks, tarot cards, unicorn tapestries... these are her proof. Each symbol is interpreted to "clearly" indicate the worship of Mary the wife, not Mary the mother.
Halfway through the book, I began to look at Starbird's evidence with another theory in mind. Perhaps all these secret symbols were not meant to indicate that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalen... perhaps they were meant to indicate that he was a space alien from the planet Mars. My theory was as "clearly" supported by the evidence presented as Starbirds. The M stood for Mars, not Mary. The Unicorn was pointing at the heavens, not representing Our Savior's phallus. Etc.
What this book "clearly" demonstrates is the age-old fact that researchers find what they look for. According to the dust jacket, Starbird has a master's degree. From where? Crackerjack University? Nowhere that teaches rigorous researching methods, that's for sure.
It's a shame that Starbird's valid point about the marginalization of the feminine in the Catholic church is buried under such ridiculous "proof."
January 16, 2011
This book was so fun to read because it was all about--what if Jesus got married to Mary Magdalen and had a daughter? In writing this, Margaret Starbird said that she couldn't prove that this was true--only that many people in the middle ages believed this was true. She talks about how this "heresy" was stamped out by the Church, but how its story survived in disguise, through symbols in art, literature, and music. It's everything I'm interested in: ancient history, theology, symbols, and art history. I loved it.
March 24, 2008
I am an avid researcher of the Jesus conspiracy so of course I loved this book. Worth reading if you are intersted in something other than what the Bible told you and want to keep an open mind.
August 6, 2014
To me, the most important thing this book has to say is that “orthodox” faith is what the powers-that-be of the time decided it should be. Was Mary Magdalen the wife of Jesus, and did she bear his child? Margaret Starbird thinks so, and that she and her daughter were spirited away after the crucifixion, first to Egypt, and then to Provence, in the south of France, for safekeeping. I read an interesting review on Goodreads that said, in reference to Starbird’s scholarship: “Halfway through the book, I began to look at Starbird's evidence with another theory in mind. Perhaps all these secret symbols were not meant to indicate that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalen... perhaps they were meant to indicate that he was a space alien from the planet Mars. My theory was as "clearly" supported by the evidence presented as Starbird’s. The M stood for Mars, not Mary. The Unicorn was pointing at the heavens, not representing Our Savior's phallus. Etc. What this book "clearly" demonstrates is the age-old fact that researchers find what they look for.” Agreed. There are a lot of ifs, a lot of holes, and an awful lot of references that I’m just not well-versed enough to discuss thoroughly. But another age-old fact is “history books are written by the winners.” And my mind is open to the idea that there is more unseen than seen when it comes to faith. It spurs my hope that perhaps there is a heaven, where all will be made clear in the end.
September 6, 2016
I really wanted to like this book. I really wanted to get into the proof of, if not that Mary Magdalen & Jesus were close, that this was, as Margaret Starbird claims in the beginning of the book, a widely held belief by people in the Middle Ages in certain areas of Europe, at least. I really wanted to uncover something, to learn something, to discover something that had been lost.
The most interesting parts of the book, for me, were actually the discussions of the early Christians, & of how Jesus could have been seen in his own time, especially with the links in the story that connect him to the well-known dying-and-reborn god. I found the political implications really fascinating to read about. And maybe it's because i'm not learned in this area, but they also sound believable. The believability of Starbird's claims, however, decreased for me as i read on, about what she claims is proof of the heretical belief of the Magdalen as the Sangraal.
I understand that people cloak their true meanings in symbolism & metaphor, which makes it difficult for all us after to truly decode their meanings. I get that. I get that it's a way for "heretical" ideas to survive-- not just going underground, but by basically forming a secret code. And i also understand that information that goes against "the norm" gets destroyed if it isn't coded. That's not a ~conspiracy theory~ thing, that's what people do time & again throughout history. And of course artists are going to not only pull on a rich history of symbol & myth & metaphor, but if they're involved with anything "heretical" & against the norm, they might also work those symbols in, too. But then the question for all this is: how do you distinguish all of this? How do you tell whether or not someone was copying, or they were taught that symbol X (haha, literally in this case, the X) meant This Thing, or even that they took this as a personal symbol, ascribing a personal meaning to it-- or that they were a part of a heretical, underground belief system?
Starbird claims that it's "obvious". As if you can just tell who's using a symbol to mean "heretical teachings ahead" & who's just slapping it down. This is mystifying to me, honestly. When the visual tradition is so rich & full of symbols throughout ages & cultures, & there's so many roads to interpretations, how can she make such claims with certainty? Does she have, for example, some diary of Botticelli's that indicates that he was truly trying to send this heretical message-- even though he was painting the Madonna & Child? I agree with the assertion that artists know what they're doing when they include specific symbology-- even today, us art students can get grilled over "why did you include this element in the work"-- but claiming that it's "obvious" when an artist is referencing the heretical church seems untrue. After all, if it was "obvious", then why wouldn't someone like Botticelli have been hunted down & interrogated, & his paintings subject to scrutiny at the least, & perhaps destruction at the extreme? Wasn't the point to not be "obvious"? It doesn't make sense to me.
If it was "obvious" to the author because of research she had done, then i wish she would have let us more in on the secret. Reading this, i felt like the old math class mantra "Show Your Work" should've been applied here. I didn't understand where Starbird was pulling these meanings & associations from; i felt that only the barest explanation was given, & it wasn't enough. If this research was what changed the author's mind from disbelief to belief, i would want to know all of it, & why it was so compelling.
A brief example would be the horn, which Starbird claims symbolized shattering the "rock" of Peter's church. This explanation she gives seemed to me to pulled out of nowhere. Later, she mentions the horn Oliphant in the Song of Roland that shatters rock, again linking it back to "Peter's church"-- but at no point does she seem to back up this claim, unless i really missed something. What convinced her that this is what the horn symbolized? How many horns in tales are there that shatter rock? And even then, how does she immediately link it to "shattering" the orthodox Roman Catholic Church? Just because "Peter" means "rock"? It feels tenuous at best, & i can honestly see why there's people who've read this book who feel it's all conspiracy theory. Symbols don't get pulled out of just anywhere; they get built on top of what's already recognized by people, so that people of the time will understand them. Obviously symbols change throughout history, & their meanings can become obscured as the times & cultures change. But my point here is: if this is what the horn symbolized, where is its origin in becoming this symbol? If it can't be traced, at least make mention, & perhaps include what makes you feel so strongly swayed by its presence.
A technical aside would be that the use of exclamation points bothered me. As did the statements where the author wrote "I believe..." & things like that. The exclamation points is just a personal thing, but the latter, i feel, also takes it out of a factual context. Not only was i left wondering where were the strings to attach the claims to some sort of evidence, but i also felt that the "I believe" statements made it even more difficult to see the book as being research-based. Because instead of saying, "Here are the facts I gathered that appear to point in this direction," Starbird instead says, "This is what I believe these things mean," & then gives scanty supporting evidence. Is this, then, the case with the horn? That Starbird "believes" its meaning was the shattering of orthodox doctrine, whether or not there's solid evidence to back her up? And if there is solid evidence, again: show it. Don't state beliefs instead of showing your research, your work, your evidence that would actually back up what your hypothesis is. If this work was meant to be taken seriously as evidence for the Lost Bride of Jesus, i feel that it was hurt by such statements of "belief", because belief is not evidence or solid research. Belief is not irrefutable.
I wanted to see more evidence. I wanted it to be more open, as well, because Starbird's claims of "This is what This Means & that's It" seem fairly questionable. Again, where is her evidence & proof? How can she tell who was cognizant of using potentially heretical symbols & who was "merely copying"? What about all the other possible readings? Because what Starbird presents seems so tenuous, it seems especially strange to me that she is so adamant in her assertions as to What These Things Mean.
For example, she seems bent on believing that Botticelli having the infant Jesus hold a pomegranate is a reference to Jesus' fertility. She keeps claiming the pomegranate is in his lap, when in the two images presented in the book, the pomegranate is only in the baby's lap in one of them. She also neglects to mention that in both images, the Virgin is holding onto the fruit, along with her child. It's also interesting, given her previous focus on meanings in the older religions of the Middle East & surrounding areas, that she only focuses on the pomegranate as a fertility symbol. She ignores the West's most blatant & well-known association here: with Persephone, the Queen of Hades. She ignores the pomegranate's connotations as a cthonic symbol, as even the symbol of a ruler via Persephone's ruling over the underworld jointly with Hades. It's a symbol of death & rebirth-- with ties in more with Starbird's previous mentioning of the dying-&-risen gods & consorts than any sort of connotation of fertility. But every time she mentions pomegranates, it's always about fertility: nothing about death & rebirth, nothing about potentially marking one as a ruler. Nothing about the fact that the Madonna in both referenced paintings is also holding onto the pomegranate. The author says, "This means fertility of Jesus, the end." Not only is it tenuous, but it also shuts down any other reading of the symbol. It seems that Starbird is convinced that other readings are those that the orthodox Catholic Church forced onto the work, while still maintaining that her reading is the correct one, the one that the artist meant to convey. It's kind of ironic.
The bibliography is also only four pages long. I know it says "selected", but again, this feels like a lack of showing the work. I'm currently reading Charles C. Mann's 1491, & the bib for that book starts of page 471 & ends on 531. Starbird's bibliography is from pages 191 to 194. Mann's book is discussing issues that are nearly constantly in flux due to newer findings, as well as trying to talk about & discover civilizations about whom there may be no written record. Civilizations who may have been wiped out, had their cities & writings & culture destroyed, etc. He also talks to people in many fields throughout his book: archaeology, history, Indigenous peoples. None of this is present in Starbird's book. Yes, she references certain works with regards to symbols (of course, disagreeing with the authors because her reading is always in line with the Grail heresy), & of course she references the Bible often, but that's it. She doesn't speak with anyone involved in fields like archaeology, & her bibliography again, like i said, doesn't show her work.
It also doesn't help when she refers to Merlin Stone's When God Was A Woman, & last i checked, the idea of the once-upon-a-time peaceful, matriarchal, goddess-worshipping ancient peoples who lived in harmony & sang "kumbaya" had pretty much been discredited. It also doesn't help that, when referencing triple-aspected goddesses, Starbird sticks to the tired stereotype of the maiden/mother/crone, despite the evidence that not all triple-aspected goddesses have ever fit into these categories (for example, Hecate- though many neo-Pagans definitely try). Of course, this book was originally published in 1993, so maybe it's unfair of me to mark all that against it.
Ultimately, this book fell very, very short for me. It presents interesting ideas that can be very compelling, & really spark the imagination, but it doesn't reinforce those ideas with hard evidence. The author's assertions of "belief" are unhelpful, as belief isn't evidence & research that holds up under scrutiny, while also allowing other views to be examined. The author paradoxically admonishes the orthodox church of forcing meanings onto symbols, while also claiming that her readings of the symbols are the correct ones, because there's somehow no mistaking that they reference the Grail heresy.
Like i said at the beginning, i really wanted to like this book. I wanted to learn something, discover something, have the metaphorical doors blown wide open. I didn't get that, & i can't help but find it surprising that what gets presented in the book is what supposedly swayed Starbird so strongly that she went from trying to discredit the Lost Bride concept to believing in it. I want something more scholarly when it comes to evidence & research, something that explores as many possible angles as it can, & actually presents something solid behind its claims. Unfortunately, this isn't the book for that.
The most interesting parts of the book, for me, were actually the discussions of the early Christians, & of how Jesus could have been seen in his own time, especially with the links in the story that connect him to the well-known dying-and-reborn god. I found the political implications really fascinating to read about. And maybe it's because i'm not learned in this area, but they also sound believable. The believability of Starbird's claims, however, decreased for me as i read on, about what she claims is proof of the heretical belief of the Magdalen as the Sangraal.
I understand that people cloak their true meanings in symbolism & metaphor, which makes it difficult for all us after to truly decode their meanings. I get that. I get that it's a way for "heretical" ideas to survive-- not just going underground, but by basically forming a secret code. And i also understand that information that goes against "the norm" gets destroyed if it isn't coded. That's not a ~conspiracy theory~ thing, that's what people do time & again throughout history. And of course artists are going to not only pull on a rich history of symbol & myth & metaphor, but if they're involved with anything "heretical" & against the norm, they might also work those symbols in, too. But then the question for all this is: how do you distinguish all of this? How do you tell whether or not someone was copying, or they were taught that symbol X (haha, literally in this case, the X) meant This Thing, or even that they took this as a personal symbol, ascribing a personal meaning to it-- or that they were a part of a heretical, underground belief system?
Starbird claims that it's "obvious". As if you can just tell who's using a symbol to mean "heretical teachings ahead" & who's just slapping it down. This is mystifying to me, honestly. When the visual tradition is so rich & full of symbols throughout ages & cultures, & there's so many roads to interpretations, how can she make such claims with certainty? Does she have, for example, some diary of Botticelli's that indicates that he was truly trying to send this heretical message-- even though he was painting the Madonna & Child? I agree with the assertion that artists know what they're doing when they include specific symbology-- even today, us art students can get grilled over "why did you include this element in the work"-- but claiming that it's "obvious" when an artist is referencing the heretical church seems untrue. After all, if it was "obvious", then why wouldn't someone like Botticelli have been hunted down & interrogated, & his paintings subject to scrutiny at the least, & perhaps destruction at the extreme? Wasn't the point to not be "obvious"? It doesn't make sense to me.
If it was "obvious" to the author because of research she had done, then i wish she would have let us more in on the secret. Reading this, i felt like the old math class mantra "Show Your Work" should've been applied here. I didn't understand where Starbird was pulling these meanings & associations from; i felt that only the barest explanation was given, & it wasn't enough. If this research was what changed the author's mind from disbelief to belief, i would want to know all of it, & why it was so compelling.
A brief example would be the horn, which Starbird claims symbolized shattering the "rock" of Peter's church. This explanation she gives seemed to me to pulled out of nowhere. Later, she mentions the horn Oliphant in the Song of Roland that shatters rock, again linking it back to "Peter's church"-- but at no point does she seem to back up this claim, unless i really missed something. What convinced her that this is what the horn symbolized? How many horns in tales are there that shatter rock? And even then, how does she immediately link it to "shattering" the orthodox Roman Catholic Church? Just because "Peter" means "rock"? It feels tenuous at best, & i can honestly see why there's people who've read this book who feel it's all conspiracy theory. Symbols don't get pulled out of just anywhere; they get built on top of what's already recognized by people, so that people of the time will understand them. Obviously symbols change throughout history, & their meanings can become obscured as the times & cultures change. But my point here is: if this is what the horn symbolized, where is its origin in becoming this symbol? If it can't be traced, at least make mention, & perhaps include what makes you feel so strongly swayed by its presence.
A technical aside would be that the use of exclamation points bothered me. As did the statements where the author wrote "I believe..." & things like that. The exclamation points is just a personal thing, but the latter, i feel, also takes it out of a factual context. Not only was i left wondering where were the strings to attach the claims to some sort of evidence, but i also felt that the "I believe" statements made it even more difficult to see the book as being research-based. Because instead of saying, "Here are the facts I gathered that appear to point in this direction," Starbird instead says, "This is what I believe these things mean," & then gives scanty supporting evidence. Is this, then, the case with the horn? That Starbird "believes" its meaning was the shattering of orthodox doctrine, whether or not there's solid evidence to back her up? And if there is solid evidence, again: show it. Don't state beliefs instead of showing your research, your work, your evidence that would actually back up what your hypothesis is. If this work was meant to be taken seriously as evidence for the Lost Bride of Jesus, i feel that it was hurt by such statements of "belief", because belief is not evidence or solid research. Belief is not irrefutable.
I wanted to see more evidence. I wanted it to be more open, as well, because Starbird's claims of "This is what This Means & that's It" seem fairly questionable. Again, where is her evidence & proof? How can she tell who was cognizant of using potentially heretical symbols & who was "merely copying"? What about all the other possible readings? Because what Starbird presents seems so tenuous, it seems especially strange to me that she is so adamant in her assertions as to What These Things Mean.
For example, she seems bent on believing that Botticelli having the infant Jesus hold a pomegranate is a reference to Jesus' fertility. She keeps claiming the pomegranate is in his lap, when in the two images presented in the book, the pomegranate is only in the baby's lap in one of them. She also neglects to mention that in both images, the Virgin is holding onto the fruit, along with her child. It's also interesting, given her previous focus on meanings in the older religions of the Middle East & surrounding areas, that she only focuses on the pomegranate as a fertility symbol. She ignores the West's most blatant & well-known association here: with Persephone, the Queen of Hades. She ignores the pomegranate's connotations as a cthonic symbol, as even the symbol of a ruler via Persephone's ruling over the underworld jointly with Hades. It's a symbol of death & rebirth-- with ties in more with Starbird's previous mentioning of the dying-&-risen gods & consorts than any sort of connotation of fertility. But every time she mentions pomegranates, it's always about fertility: nothing about death & rebirth, nothing about potentially marking one as a ruler. Nothing about the fact that the Madonna in both referenced paintings is also holding onto the pomegranate. The author says, "This means fertility of Jesus, the end." Not only is it tenuous, but it also shuts down any other reading of the symbol. It seems that Starbird is convinced that other readings are those that the orthodox Catholic Church forced onto the work, while still maintaining that her reading is the correct one, the one that the artist meant to convey. It's kind of ironic.
The bibliography is also only four pages long. I know it says "selected", but again, this feels like a lack of showing the work. I'm currently reading Charles C. Mann's 1491, & the bib for that book starts of page 471 & ends on 531. Starbird's bibliography is from pages 191 to 194. Mann's book is discussing issues that are nearly constantly in flux due to newer findings, as well as trying to talk about & discover civilizations about whom there may be no written record. Civilizations who may have been wiped out, had their cities & writings & culture destroyed, etc. He also talks to people in many fields throughout his book: archaeology, history, Indigenous peoples. None of this is present in Starbird's book. Yes, she references certain works with regards to symbols (of course, disagreeing with the authors because her reading is always in line with the Grail heresy), & of course she references the Bible often, but that's it. She doesn't speak with anyone involved in fields like archaeology, & her bibliography again, like i said, doesn't show her work.
It also doesn't help when she refers to Merlin Stone's When God Was A Woman, & last i checked, the idea of the once-upon-a-time peaceful, matriarchal, goddess-worshipping ancient peoples who lived in harmony & sang "kumbaya" had pretty much been discredited. It also doesn't help that, when referencing triple-aspected goddesses, Starbird sticks to the tired stereotype of the maiden/mother/crone, despite the evidence that not all triple-aspected goddesses have ever fit into these categories (for example, Hecate- though many neo-Pagans definitely try). Of course, this book was originally published in 1993, so maybe it's unfair of me to mark all that against it.
Ultimately, this book fell very, very short for me. It presents interesting ideas that can be very compelling, & really spark the imagination, but it doesn't reinforce those ideas with hard evidence. The author's assertions of "belief" are unhelpful, as belief isn't evidence & research that holds up under scrutiny, while also allowing other views to be examined. The author paradoxically admonishes the orthodox church of forcing meanings onto symbols, while also claiming that her readings of the symbols are the correct ones, because there's somehow no mistaking that they reference the Grail heresy.
Like i said at the beginning, i really wanted to like this book. I wanted to learn something, discover something, have the metaphorical doors blown wide open. I didn't get that, & i can't help but find it surprising that what gets presented in the book is what supposedly swayed Starbird so strongly that she went from trying to discredit the Lost Bride concept to believing in it. I want something more scholarly when it comes to evidence & research, something that explores as many possible angles as it can, & actually presents something solid behind its claims. Unfortunately, this isn't the book for that.
August 30, 2012
First, let me say I very rarely write a negative review of anything unless I feel it's subject matter is not what it is purported to be. I'd just gotten done with "The Da Vinci Code" and this book seemed so highly recommended in reviews here on its factual, historical content. Or maybe I misunderstood. Because halfway through I had to stop reading it.
I thought it was going to be about Mary Magdalen-from her birth to her death, including her time with Jesus. Maybe eventually it ends up being about her, but it's not written that way in the half I read. It was more of a Holy Grail history lesson. While the subject is her relationship to the Grail, I did not buy this book for a Holy Grail history lesson, there's a ton of information on that subject already. I bought it for the biographical information about Mary Magdalen. The author repeats herself quite often, and constantly refers to Bible passages. If you aren't Christian, or haven't opened a Bible in a long time, these constant referrals get quite frustrating and exclusionary because you have no idea what is being referenced. I have no other recommendations for information on Mary Magdalen. And I'm not saying people could not enjoy this book. All I am saying it was disappointing and not what I expected in a biographical story.
I thought it was going to be about Mary Magdalen-from her birth to her death, including her time with Jesus. Maybe eventually it ends up being about her, but it's not written that way in the half I read. It was more of a Holy Grail history lesson. While the subject is her relationship to the Grail, I did not buy this book for a Holy Grail history lesson, there's a ton of information on that subject already. I bought it for the biographical information about Mary Magdalen. The author repeats herself quite often, and constantly refers to Bible passages. If you aren't Christian, or haven't opened a Bible in a long time, these constant referrals get quite frustrating and exclusionary because you have no idea what is being referenced. I have no other recommendations for information on Mary Magdalen. And I'm not saying people could not enjoy this book. All I am saying it was disappointing and not what I expected in a biographical story.
April 15, 2009
Was well before the curve of the Mary Magdalen books that have come out in the last 10 years, and still one of the very best. That the church suppressed the truth (or mythology) surrounding this enigmatic friend of Jesus is well documented in this book. The unluckiness of the number 13 and the making the mark X (the St Andrew cross which apparently was the glyph that represented Mary) a sign representing 'wrong', were all part of the method of undermining those with a Marist interest.
A good read all in all.
A good read all in all.
March 15, 2010
It turned what I thought I knew about the Christian story on its head! I've been questioning even more ever since.
August 29, 2021
Excellent research into the “Grail Heresy” that the Roman Catholic Church ruthlessly suppressed.
November 20, 2019
This title is the November 2019 selection of South Austin Spiritual Book Group.
This book asks the question "What would our world have been like if the Bride in Christianity had never been lost? And what will it be like when she is restored?"
A Catholic wrote this book in an effort to disprove the Bride, but she ended up proving it instead! This makes it all the more believable that Jesus and Mary Magdalen were married, especially when we learn why their marriage needed to remain hidden.
The proof of the marriage is what most of the book is about, and the author does prove it every which way through archeology, theology, history, politics, and symbolism. The search for the Holy Grail is the search for the restoration of feminine equality with the masculine, the Bride and Bridegroom, wholeness, restoration.
This book asks the question "What would our world have been like if the Bride in Christianity had never been lost? And what will it be like when she is restored?"
A Catholic wrote this book in an effort to disprove the Bride, but she ended up proving it instead! This makes it all the more believable that Jesus and Mary Magdalen were married, especially when we learn why their marriage needed to remain hidden.
The proof of the marriage is what most of the book is about, and the author does prove it every which way through archeology, theology, history, politics, and symbolism. The search for the Holy Grail is the search for the restoration of feminine equality with the masculine, the Bride and Bridegroom, wholeness, restoration.
May 17, 2017
A fascinating exploration of symbolism, allegory, and legend, which combines to reveal a historical belief in Mary Magdalene as the lost sacred feminine. Starbird's interpretation transcends traditions and time to recover ancient and historical meaning that persist hidden within modern cultural contexts. At times her narrative voice tends to dryness and her argument would have been strengthened by including footnotes/citations for her evidence, yet her ideas are tantalizing in their provocation and synthesis; this is an illuminating read for those interested in the roots of the sacred feminine.
August 9, 2010
This book may have been written in a "scholarly" manner, but it completely lacks footnotes. We are simply supposed to take the author's word for everything she's written. I stopped reading when she stated that Languedoc (in France) is otherwise known as Provence. In fact, they are two different areas of the country.
Skip this one and go straight to "Holy Blood, Holy Grail" by Michael Baigent. His is the original on the subject and is well documented.
Skip this one and go straight to "Holy Blood, Holy Grail" by Michael Baigent. His is the original on the subject and is well documented.
May 23, 2012
This book was beautifully written so easy to read. I enjoyed every minute of it. I love anything that has to do with the history of the Holy Grail and Margaret Starbird makes an excellent case from an extensive study of history, heraldry, symbolism, medieval art, mythology, psychology, and the Bible itself. Beautifully told story about the forgotten feminine--in the hope that its return will help restore a healthy balance to planet Earth.
June 19, 2013
A very interesting book, even though it can never be definitively proven that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalen, I see no reason to doubt it. The very fact that the Catholic Church branded Mary Magdalen a prostitute when she never was (later recanted during Vatican II) makes one wonder what ELSE taught by the Church "ain't kosher" (no pun intended). Whether or Jesus was married does, in no way, jeopardize his divinity in my opinion.
January 9, 2013
Outstanding, this book opened my mind on so many different levels.
November 15, 2024
This book presents an interesting idea that Dan Brown ran with in
The da Vinci Code
: Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene and they had a child together. It's a valid theory, as valid as any other theory that cannot be proven because there is a lack of evidence from the time period. Her evidence is that there's art throughout the Middle Ages that can be interpreted to mean that Mary Magdalene was the Bride of Christ.
While I agree that matriarchal societies and the "sacred feminine" have been largely forgotten in today's culture and interpretation of history, I find it hard to grasp that we should use art from 1,000 years after the fact as evidence that a person existed in a specific role.
I've been interested in learning about ancient women's history and goddess religions -- the only sources are "alternative" books which can lead one down a Graham Hancock path -- where you take your theory and only present ideas that fit into that theory. That seems to be what happened here, perhaps Graham Hancock and his Ancient Apocalypse was inspired by Ms Starbird's giant leaps to conclusions?
How did I get here? Well, there are many books that led me here. First, there was the aforementioned Da Vinci Code which put Ms Starbird on my radar well over a decade ago. More recently, it's a thread I first picked with Jean Auel's Earth's Children series, the prehistoric time period had me wondering about where the women that definitely existed throughout time disappeared to in the history and religion we're taught in school and at church. Then I discovered When God Was a Woman which has been poo-poohed by many scholars but paints a picture that seems probable: those in power suppressed or destroyed evidence of the Sacred Feminine and any mention of the goddess. I was still hunting for more ideas about matriarchal societies, so I went on a journey to discover The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity . Merlin Stone and Margaret Starbird both focus on art, whereas The Dawn of Everything is written by an anthropologist and an archeologist so a different perspective. While it has it's detractors, it seems that because it's written by two men, it's not perceived as kooky feminist ideas like Merlin Stone's book. Then I got distracted by chickens and dinosaurs, seeds and trees, but then I read Lilith , Femina , Tell Her Story: How Women Led, Taught, and Ministered in the Early Church and Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal which brought me right back here to The Woman with the Alabaster Jar and my hunt for women in religion.
While I agree that matriarchal societies and the "sacred feminine" have been largely forgotten in today's culture and interpretation of history, I find it hard to grasp that we should use art from 1,000 years after the fact as evidence that a person existed in a specific role.
I've been interested in learning about ancient women's history and goddess religions -- the only sources are "alternative" books which can lead one down a Graham Hancock path -- where you take your theory and only present ideas that fit into that theory. That seems to be what happened here, perhaps Graham Hancock and his Ancient Apocalypse was inspired by Ms Starbird's giant leaps to conclusions?
How did I get here? Well, there are many books that led me here. First, there was the aforementioned Da Vinci Code which put Ms Starbird on my radar well over a decade ago. More recently, it's a thread I first picked with Jean Auel's Earth's Children series, the prehistoric time period had me wondering about where the women that definitely existed throughout time disappeared to in the history and religion we're taught in school and at church. Then I discovered When God Was a Woman which has been poo-poohed by many scholars but paints a picture that seems probable: those in power suppressed or destroyed evidence of the Sacred Feminine and any mention of the goddess. I was still hunting for more ideas about matriarchal societies, so I went on a journey to discover The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity . Merlin Stone and Margaret Starbird both focus on art, whereas The Dawn of Everything is written by an anthropologist and an archeologist so a different perspective. While it has it's detractors, it seems that because it's written by two men, it's not perceived as kooky feminist ideas like Merlin Stone's book. Then I got distracted by chickens and dinosaurs, seeds and trees, but then I read Lilith , Femina , Tell Her Story: How Women Led, Taught, and Ministered in the Early Church and Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal which brought me right back here to The Woman with the Alabaster Jar and my hunt for women in religion.
July 5, 2025
So not all of it made sense to me from a purely scholarly perspective - and it felt quite lacking in rigour: I feel I need way more sources to jump to the conclusions the author is drawing, and thus I could not quite suspend my disbelief: BUT this was still such an interesting, fascinating ride ! I do love it when researchers get in their own way, cornered by their on tunnel vision (as someone who did a PhD I sympathize). Some of the theories have since been amply debunked but I still particularly enjoyed the explorations around the unicorn, the black Madonnas, the fairy tales, and the heraldry. Perhaps I need more background to fully appreciate the frantic, somewhat feverish depth of this exalted research.
October 2, 2025
In the pagan community this would be referred to as Unverified Personal Gnosis. The author presents a series of symbols from medieval art and folklore and says what she thinks the meaning of these symbols are, but she fails to present any evidence that anyone else in the history of the world has ever had the same interpretation of these symbols, let alone the artists who put them into their art. At one point I did start looking stuff up to see if any of this symbolism is commonly accepted amongst other scholars, and not really. Not in ways that could lead to the authors conclusions, for sure.
This book honestly has the vibes of a conspiracy theorist’s cork board. I guess I can see how the idea might be fun for some folks, and trust me, I wish there were more positive representations of women in Christianity too (not sure why Jesus having a wife is the only way that could be accomplished, but whatever), but I recommend against taking this too seriously. I’m mostly disappointed that this book was recommended reading in a college women’s study course.
This book honestly has the vibes of a conspiracy theorist’s cork board. I guess I can see how the idea might be fun for some folks, and trust me, I wish there were more positive representations of women in Christianity too (not sure why Jesus having a wife is the only way that could be accomplished, but whatever), but I recommend against taking this too seriously. I’m mostly disappointed that this book was recommended reading in a college women’s study course.
January 31, 2021
The book set me aside in the beginning with the retelling of the meeting and betrothal. I was picked up this book for historical fragments of 2 two people I decided decades and decades ago were mortal and my crisis in faith shook me before I entered puberty.
The treasure I found within snipped the remaining threads of RM upbringing and fill in the blanks of what I composed over time after my crisis.
Jesus was a bad magician. It was a thing during this time, but it was Mark who reports that there were times that the 'miracles' had to be repeated or didn't work. But I get it; the stoop to trickery to mass a mass of followers as necessary. I completely understand Jesus' (Yeshua's) predicament--a Son within David Jewish faction referred to a "Zealots" (think extremists) who wanted to blow things up as the preferred method to get rid of the Romans) who was told he was prophesy, the Messiah (more of a military term than a mystical term), who would reunite the tribes. And so the arranged marriage of Jesus to Lazarus's sister, Mary (Magdelen) who was of the tribe of Saul had to be. Only Jesus did not see himself much of warrior. He wanted to accomplish the Roman overthrow his way, which looks a lot like anarchy by continually asking, "[who really governs you]."
This insistence angered the Zealots, including Judas. Rome didn't mind until the govt sanctioned version of Judiasm, the one that collected offerings ($), pushed the Romans to do something after Jesus overturned the money tables at the temples.
So the whole thing was about politics for the Jesus handlers. Jesus' message was authentic, even if the delivery was rigged from time to time.
The other thing, the name "Mary/Miriam/Maria" and "Joseph" were common. Hence the Joseph & Mary who were Jesus' parents are not the same Joseph & Mary who escaped to deliver the child the of Jesus and MM in Egypt. That Joseph was a family friend of Jesus who was asked to look after his wife and child-to-be-born.
Moreover, Jesus was not a poor carpenter, the word tekton is better translated as mason, architect, builder of houses. Jesus was squarely middleclass and connected.
And so the theory that Jesus' lost years (between birth and age 30) were spent travelling the Silk Road and learning eastern philosophy makes perfect sense. The Western World's recent foray into eastern mysticism, a la 'New Age', is a redux.
By the way the child born was a girl name Sara, born dark like her Mother and not light or least lighter as was her Father. As a girl, Sara and her Mother, MM, apparently immigrated to south of France. A thousand years later the church descended on the followers of Jesus' original message (live humbly, be good to others) because they did not teach that Jesus was divine, among other things.
Funny thing happened to the teachings of Jesus among the Cathars, it became a cult to MM, as if the bloodline was holy, and thus traced as it was passed down matrilineal lines, eventually seeding the Merovigian (translates from Vine of Mary) royal lineage.
On a personal note, this puts another piece in the puzzle I am reconstructing of my Grandmother's , Great-grandmother's, ad infinitum, traditional healing knowledge they translated into, "Way-pf-Mary." Thus my reading will continue in the south of France until it lands in Calabria/Bruttium.
The treasure I found within snipped the remaining threads of RM upbringing and fill in the blanks of what I composed over time after my crisis.
Jesus was a bad magician. It was a thing during this time, but it was Mark who reports that there were times that the 'miracles' had to be repeated or didn't work. But I get it; the stoop to trickery to mass a mass of followers as necessary. I completely understand Jesus' (Yeshua's) predicament--a Son within David Jewish faction referred to a "Zealots" (think extremists) who wanted to blow things up as the preferred method to get rid of the Romans) who was told he was prophesy, the Messiah (more of a military term than a mystical term), who would reunite the tribes. And so the arranged marriage of Jesus to Lazarus's sister, Mary (Magdelen) who was of the tribe of Saul had to be. Only Jesus did not see himself much of warrior. He wanted to accomplish the Roman overthrow his way, which looks a lot like anarchy by continually asking, "[who really governs you]."
This insistence angered the Zealots, including Judas. Rome didn't mind until the govt sanctioned version of Judiasm, the one that collected offerings ($), pushed the Romans to do something after Jesus overturned the money tables at the temples.
So the whole thing was about politics for the Jesus handlers. Jesus' message was authentic, even if the delivery was rigged from time to time.
The other thing, the name "Mary/Miriam/Maria" and "Joseph" were common. Hence the Joseph & Mary who were Jesus' parents are not the same Joseph & Mary who escaped to deliver the child the of Jesus and MM in Egypt. That Joseph was a family friend of Jesus who was asked to look after his wife and child-to-be-born.
Moreover, Jesus was not a poor carpenter, the word tekton is better translated as mason, architect, builder of houses. Jesus was squarely middleclass and connected.
And so the theory that Jesus' lost years (between birth and age 30) were spent travelling the Silk Road and learning eastern philosophy makes perfect sense. The Western World's recent foray into eastern mysticism, a la 'New Age', is a redux.
By the way the child born was a girl name Sara, born dark like her Mother and not light or least lighter as was her Father. As a girl, Sara and her Mother, MM, apparently immigrated to south of France. A thousand years later the church descended on the followers of Jesus' original message (live humbly, be good to others) because they did not teach that Jesus was divine, among other things.
Funny thing happened to the teachings of Jesus among the Cathars, it became a cult to MM, as if the bloodline was holy, and thus traced as it was passed down matrilineal lines, eventually seeding the Merovigian (translates from Vine of Mary) royal lineage.
On a personal note, this puts another piece in the puzzle I am reconstructing of my Grandmother's , Great-grandmother's, ad infinitum, traditional healing knowledge they translated into, "Way-pf-Mary." Thus my reading will continue in the south of France until it lands in Calabria/Bruttium.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 2, 2022
Una buena investigación sobre el Santo Grial y todas las historias ocultas sobre Maria Magdalena y la descendencia de Jesús de Nazareth. No es un libro con índole religioso sino una investigación del simbolismo de la esposa oculta, la virgen negra y todas las alusiones artísticas en pinturas que revelan a través del simbolismo sagrado la historia de Maria Magdalena, el tabú sobre el sexo y el alcance que ha traído alimentar una creencia religiosa sobre Madres Vírgenes e Hijos Célibes, cuestiona la idea de familia, como se puede hablar tanto sobre construcción de familia repeliendo hablar de intimidad sexual y relación de pareja.
April 8, 2024
This book is more relevant today than when it was first written given the attack on women’s rights. Great book!
Read
February 16, 2025O livro nos mostra que a verdade não é definida pelo poder político nem pela convicção religiosa. Jesus não era culpado de um crime porque as autoridades do Templo e a sentença de Pilatos simplesmente assim o declararam, da mesma maneira que o Sol não gira em torno da Terra somente porque a Igreja Católica estabeleceu que isso era um fato. Com muita frequência, o poder, a opinião pública e a tradição são vistos como sinônimos da verdade. A verdade não é determinada pelo desejo humano nem por decretos. Ela significa a harmonização da mente e do coração humano com o que realmente é. Os ensinamentos da Igreja Católica Romana sobre a Sagrada Família são um exemplo gritante. Segundo esses preceitos, José nunca teve relações conjugais com sua mulher e Maria deu a luz um único filho, Jesus, e permaneceu virgem até o dia de sua morte. E Jesus nunca se casou. Eu também desacredito dessa versão, ou ao menos não concordo, que essa possa ser de fato a grande verdade. Maria não é a mãe virgem de um único filho simplesmente porque os ensinamentos da Igreja assim o declaram. Existe uma verdade sobre sua prole e suas relações matrimoniais com José. Professar essa verdade é o que os honra.
Se, realmente, Maria teve vários filhos e filhas, como as Escrituras aparentemente atestam, não a estaremos respeitando se acreditarmos ou afirmarmos que ela deu à luz um único filho e morreu virgem. Da mesma forma, Jesus não foi um celibatário só porque a Igreja prega isso. Não há nada na Bíblia que prove que ele nunca se casou nem que tenha feito uma promessa ou um voto de jamais de casar. Embora sem poder provar, a autora relata sua crença de que, a pedido de Jesus, conforme as profecias de Miquéias, Maria Madalena (irmã de Lázaro de Betânia), chamada no livro de Mirian, fugiu com José de Arimatéa para Alexandria, no Egito. Ela era esposa de Jesus e estava grávida quando ele foi morto. A ameaça física à vida da mulher de Jesus teria sido motivo suficiente para excluir o seu nome de todos os escritos da época. Essa explicação é bastante plausível, especialmente se levarmos em conta as severas punições sofridas pelos primeiros seguidores de Jesus.
O casamento de Jesus teve importância dinástica, unindo as famílias de dois grandes amigos: Davi, filho de Jessé, e Jônatas, filho de Saul. A história de amizade entre os dois era contada havia vários séculos nas casas dos judeus. Como Lázaro explicara à irmã, o casamento dela com Jesus também envolvia questões políticas. Mas era, acima de tudo, a realização de uma profecia.
O casamento foi realizado na casa de Simão, o leproso. Somente alguns amigos íntimos e suas famílias foram convidados. Era necessário manter o fato em segredo para que Herodes Antipas não descobrisse que uma herdeira de Benjamim unira-se em matrimônio e a um filho da casa de Davi. Mirian não se incomodava por não ser reconhecida em público como a mulher de Jesus, pois ele a fazia sentir-se completa e feliz. Ela já casara sabendo que seria um casamento dinástico e se dava por satisfeita com a ternura do marido e a gentil preocupação dele com sua timidez. Mirian deu a luz uma menina que, na visão de pesquisas da autora, recebeu o nome de Sara. Todo ano, de 23 a 25 de maio, realiza-se um festival na cidade de Les-Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, na França, no santuário dedicado a Santa Sara, a egípcia, também chamada de Sara Kali, a 'rainha Negra'. As pesquisas revelaram que esse festival, cuja origem remonta à Idade Média, homenageia uma criança 'egípcia' que acompanhava Maria Madalena, Marta e Lázaro quando de sua chegada à região, num pequeno barco, por volta do ano 42 d.C. Entretanto, pelas minhas próprias pesquisas, a versão mais popular é de que Sara kali era uma cigana serva das Marias. Ela teria fugido das perseguições de Roma aos primeiros cristãos junto de Maria Jacobina ou Jacobé (irmã de Maria, mãe de Jesus) Maria Salomé (mãe dos apóstolos Tiago e João), Maria Madalena, Marta, Lázaro e Maximiliano. Outras versões diferentes também existem. Evidenciando os fatos, embora dois Evangelhos, o de Marcos e o de Lucas, sustentem que Maria Madalena foi curada por Jesus da possessão de sete demônios, não está escrito, em lugar nenhum, que ela era uma prostituta. Apesar disso, esse estigma a tem seguido por toda a cristandade. A história original da unção de Jesus em Betânia pela mulher do vaso de alabastro deve ter sido mal interpretada pelo autor do Evangelho de Lucas, que o escreveu quase cinquenta anos depois do acontecimento.
A unção realizada pela mulher em Betânia era similar a uma conhecida prática ritual das sacerdotisas sagradas, ou 'prostitutas' do templo, nos cultos às deusas do Império Romano. Uma passagem muito conhecida e curiosa do Salmo 23, atribuída ao rei Davi, faz lembrar os tempos antigos quando Deus era identificado com o papel da Noiva: 'preparas um banquete para mim na presença dos meus inimigos; unges a minha cabeça com óleo, o meu cálice transborda.' Esse trecho retrata Deus como feminino: nos ritos do Oriente Médio da Antiguidade, a deusa é a Noiva que unge o consorte escolhido, outorgando-lhe sua graça e majestade.
Nas religiões da Suméria e de Canaã, ungir com óleo a cabeça do rei era um ritual realizado pela herdeira ou pela sacerdotisa real, que representava a deusa. Em grego, esse ritual era chamado hieros gamos, ou 'Casamento Sagrado'. Quando um evento importante é muito perigoso para ser discutido, ele é estabelecido como mito e contado como uma lenda. Foi o que aconteceu com a história de Jesus e a Noiva Perdida transformada no mito como a mulher do vaso de alabastro. O Santo Gral não era o cálice sagrado com poder de cura usado por Jesus na ultima ceia, mas sim o Sangraal, Mirian e a descendência real carregada no seu ventre. Nos tempos medievais, a maior parte do mundo cristão tinha crenças radicalmente dualistas sobre as mulheres.
A existência material, a carne, o diabo e o sexo feminino eram colocados juntos como a fonte do mal, que impedia os homens de alcançarem a união espiritual com Deus. Frequentemente, os clérigos exploravam os pobres e levavam uma vida de relativo luxo, enquanto os paroquianos passavam fome. As seitas albigenses eram claramente anticlericais e antieclesiásticas. Os cátaros formaram a sua própria Igreja em oposição ao que acreditavam ser falsos ensinamentos de Roma. Eles repudiavam o ritual da missa e também a cruz, que consideravam um instrumento de tortura que não poderia ser algo de veneração. Os cátaros não precisavam de um sacerdote para realizar cultos nem de um espaço físico para guardar artefatos e relíquias.
Sua fé era praticada nas casas e nos campos. Desprezavam a necessidade de igrejas, relíquias e sacramentos. Entre eles, homens e mulheres eram considerados iguais, e a mulher tinha o direito de herdar e possuir propriedades.
As mulheres também podiam pregar. Isso refletia a consideração que as mulheres, inclusive Maria Madalena, já haviam merecido quando a Igreja ainda engatinhava. Os pregadores cátaros, de ambos os sexos, viajavam pelos campos aos pares, exatamente como faziam os discípulos de Jesus na Palestina, partilhando a comida, trabalhando lado a lado com os pobres e pregando a vida simples e pura dos espíritos iluminados. São Domingos e, mais tarde, São Francisco de Assis ficaram tão impressionados com os métodos cátaros de evangelização que os tomaram como exemplo para seus frades mendicantes, determinando que fizessem votos de pobreza e caridade. Uma característica extraordinária dos cátaros era a sua insistência em ver a Bíblia traduzida para o seu dialeto, denominado língua d'oc, e fazer com que as pessoas aprendessem a ler os Evangelhos de Jesus em seu próprio idioma. Para isso, diversas fábricas de papel foram instaladas em toda a região, impulsionando o ressurgimento da arte, do pensamento e das letras em toda a Europa.
A crença de que Jesus era casado e tinha herdeiros era natural de Provença. Acreditava-se que Maria Madalena vivera naquela terra e fora enterrada ali com seu irmão, sua irmã e vários amigos próximos. O mesmo aconteceu com as genealogias secretas das famílias nobres locais. Após a Cruzada Albigense, filhas sobreviventes das famílias nobres do Midi foram forçadas a casar-se com pessoas do Norte, provavelmente para dissipar as reivindicações de certos clãs do Sul de que foram os únicos a carregar em seu sangue a linhagem merovíngia. Isso não era novidade, uma vez que, para consolidar sua pretensão ao trono dos francos, o próprio pai de Carlos Magno havia desposado uma princesa merovíngia.
Os cavalheiros templários tinham acesso à sabedoria esotérica do mundo clássico, provavelmente preservada em fontes islâmicas que os membros da ordem encontraram no Oriente Médio. O seu conhecimento de matemática e engenharia deu origem ao estilo gótico de arquitetura, que se disseminou por toda a Europa, quase da noite para o dia, como se cumprisse um planejamento, no período de 1130 a 1250. O mais importante desses dogmas era o princípio cósmico da harmonia entre as energias masculinas e femininas. Posterior a isso, as tentativas posteriores de resgatar o feminino sofreram uma repressão severa; e místicos, artistas e cientistas da Igreja herética foram forçados a buscar seus interesses dissimuladores. Disciplinas como medicina, alquimia, astrologia e psicologia, que antes floresciam, viram-se obrigadas a se esconder, condenadas como ocultas.
A fé dos templários celebrava o equilíbrio cósmico dos opostos, incorporando-o à construção das catedrais. Os magníficos vitrais com rosas são outro exemplo do feminino ressurgente entre os que desenhavam as igrejas medievais para honrar a Notre-Dame. Além disso, os ciganos dessa época acreditavam que as catedrais góticas do Norte da França haviam sido intencionalmente posicionadas para formar uma imagem espelhada da constelação de Virgem (Nossa Senhora) traçada no chão. Os templários foram levados a julgamento, acusados de heresia. Durante sete anos, a inquisição os interrogou com imensa brutalidade, numa tentativa de descobrir o esconderijo de seu famoso tesouro.
Quando o Vaticano e o rei francês Felipe IV resolveram acabar com a secreta Ordem dos Cavalheiros Templários, em 1307, os poucos que conseguiram escapar se mantiveram incógnitos. Um grande número deles reapareceu, tempos depois, na Escócia. Quatro séculos mais tarde, muitas das doutrinas dessa ordem renasceram na fraternidade secreta dos maçons. Há numerosos fósseis da verdade que ligam os modernos maçons aos templários.
Interessante analisar a associação artística entre Maria Madalena e Ísis, a Deusa do paraíso na Terra, que chorou sobre o corpo mutilado de Osíris e concebeu um filho dele. Aqueles que sabiam sobre o Sangraal parecem ter estendido o epítelo filhos da viúva a todos os descendentes da viúva de Jesus, que por sua vez, era uma descendente de Davi. O mito da supremacia e do status da casa de Davi floresceu entre as famílias dos templários.
Um artefato medieval ligado por seus símbolos à heresia da Noiva Perdida é o tarô, que deu origem ao nosso baralho moderno. O lugar em que teria surgido é obscuro, e especulações a esse respeito vão da Índia ao Egito. Embora essas cartas já fossem uma realidade em 1392, acredita-se que o baralho mais antigo ainda existente tenha sido criado por um pintor do século XV, possivelmente Andréa Mantegna (1432-1506). Os quatro naipes e 22 trunfos do baralho desse período compartilham símbolos que contêm a heresia do Graal, sobretudo o baralho de Carlos VI, ou baralho de Gringonneur, que parece ter uma íntima ligação com a tradição secreta.
Um século depois, as cartas do tarô circulavam por cortes da Europa, levadas por bandos de ciganos, bufões, malabaristas e acrobatas de cidade em cidade. Elas acabaram sendo usadas em mesas de jogo de praticamente todos os cantos da Europa.
Os artistas viajantes começaram onde os trovadores haviam parado, e seus símbolos ainda persistem nos baralhos modernos. O significado das cartas do tarô tem sido motivo de debates há muitos anos, e numerosas revisões e interpretações vinculam-no ostensivamente à alquimia, às sociedades secretas dos maçons e rosa-cruzes, bem como às ciências ocultas em geral. Embora o significado de muitas cartas tenha sido declarado obscuro, elas ainda conservam uma aura de perigo. A Igreja condenou o tarô como herético quando ele apareceu pela primeira vez na Europa, porém ninguém conseguiu determinar com certeza que heresia se escondia em seus símbolos. O conhecimento da heresia do Graal surge para esclarecer esse enigma. Um baralho de tarô é composto pelos Arcanos Menores (que consistem em quatro naipes chamados espadas, ou gládios; copas, ou taças; ouros, ou estrelas de cinco pontas; e paus, ou bastões) e Arcanos Maiores (os trunfos).
Os baralhos modernos não possuem mais os trunfos, pois estes foram os mais cruelmente condenados pela igreja, embora o truque do trunfo seja estrategicamente ainda presente em muitos jogos de cartas atuais. A única relíquia dos 22 trunfos originais encontrada nos baralhos modernos, e que é significativa para a nossa história, é o curinga, o louco ou bobo, remanescente dos palhaços de Deus, aos quais se atribuiu a ação de terem espalhado os dogmas da heresia albigense.
Os rosas-cruzes, cujas sociedades secretas proliferaram durante o século XVII, mas que, provavelmente, se originaram muito tempo antes, usavam o símbolo da cruz cor-de-rosa, cujo real significado só era conhecido por um pequeno grupo de iniciados. Essa não era a cruz ortodoxa de Pedro e Jesus, a qual foi repudiada pelos hereges como um impiedoso instrumento de tortura.
A cruz era o X vermelho da iluminação verdadeira, símbolo de lux ou luz. Entretanto, como a versão que tinham da vida e da natureza de Jesus estava em desacordo com a da Igreja Romana, ela recebeu a censura máxima e foi condenada e repudiada. O sentido pejorativo da letra X na linguagem moderna é uma evidência do poder que o vencedor tem de destruir os vencidos e reescrever a história. A Igreja oficial desacreditou o X e o tornou um anátema na comunidade. Ele possui a união do V normal da mulher e o V invertido do homem, representando a união perfeita. Ainda vale lembrar que o V masculino com o feminino dentro um do outro forma a estrela de seis pontas de Davi (ou Selo de Salomão), simbolo da perfeição.
A besta é, invariavelmente, uma ameaça à mulher (Apocalipse 12:6), enquanto a cruz vermelha é associada ao resgate dessa figura feminina. As feministas modernas viraram a lenda da Cinderela (esse nome significa serviçal com rosto coberto de cinzas) de cabeça para baixo. Desprezando a insinuação de que uma mulher precisa do homem para ser completa, elas não perceberam o ponto principal da história: é o príncipe que busca, com paixão, a sua parceira perdida. Cinderela personifica a crença de que, quando a noiva for encontrada e devolvida ao príncipe, o reino será curado. Esse tema é recorrente em nossos contos de fadas.
A questão essencial é a busca pela verdadeira companheira do príncipe. Outra variação ocorre na história A bela adormecida, em que a princesa Aurora é picada por um fuso envenenado e dorme por cem anos. No final, o príncipe precisa atravessar uma floresta de urzes, que cresceram ao redor da amada e ocultaram a sua própria existência. Somente sua forte determinação consegue unir o casal.
A imagem do impetuoso príncipe abrindo caminho pelos arbustos espinhentos na tentativa de encontrar sua princesa perdida, a sua outra metade, é particularmente significativa para o nosso mundo moderno. O masculino ferido, brandindo a sua espada de maneria imprudente, não está apenas ferido e frustrado, mas tornou-se perigoso. Quanto mais cedo ele se unir ao seu perdido, maltratado e repudiado lado feminino, melhor será! Em um outro conto familiar, a princesa Branca de Neve é condenada à morte por sua madrasta. Quase sempre há uma madrasta maligna e invejosa ou uma bruxa feia tentando manter a princesa separada de seu companheiro. A princesa come uma maçã envenenada dada pela madrasta e somente a chegada providencial do príncipe salva-a do poder mortífero da maçã. Rapunzel com suas tranças tem o mesmo tema e lembra as histórias de Santa Bárbara nos contos folclóricos, a qual foi uma virgem mártir, filha de um cavaleiro pagão do século III, na Síria. Ela queria ser cristã, e seu pai, horrorizado diante dessa possibilidade, trancou-a em uma torre. O sacerdote que ia em segredo instruíla na fé precisava subir por suas tranças para alcançar a prisão. Enfim, todos os contos retratam a contraparte do belo príncipe sempre ferida, perdida ou aprisionada.
A desvalorização do feminino deve ser revertida, não para ocupar o lugar do masculino, mas para assumir o papel harmonioso da contraparte divinamente pura há tanto tempo desejada, a Noiva-Irmã Perdida. Com o início desta era de Aquários, parece um tanto providencial que os algarismos romanos para os anos desde 2000 sejam MM e que as iniciais de Maria Madalena formem as linhas onduladas desse signo. Nas pinturas que retratam Madalena, seu cabelo é quase sempre longo, descendo pela cabeça como as ondas paralelas na representação desse signo.
Para restaurar o princípio feminino expresso em Maria Madalena, é necessário estabelecer sua verdadeira identidade como Noiva, e não como prostituta. Embora tenha sido mais tarde assim chamada pela igreja, a verdadeira Maria Madalena jamais foi desprezada por Jesus nos Evangelhos. Ela era o amor de sua vida. Como nos contos de fadas, o belo príncipe procura por ela há dois mil anos, tentando devolver-lhe o lugar ao seu lado que, por direito, lhe pertence.
Se, realmente, Maria teve vários filhos e filhas, como as Escrituras aparentemente atestam, não a estaremos respeitando se acreditarmos ou afirmarmos que ela deu à luz um único filho e morreu virgem. Da mesma forma, Jesus não foi um celibatário só porque a Igreja prega isso. Não há nada na Bíblia que prove que ele nunca se casou nem que tenha feito uma promessa ou um voto de jamais de casar. Embora sem poder provar, a autora relata sua crença de que, a pedido de Jesus, conforme as profecias de Miquéias, Maria Madalena (irmã de Lázaro de Betânia), chamada no livro de Mirian, fugiu com José de Arimatéa para Alexandria, no Egito. Ela era esposa de Jesus e estava grávida quando ele foi morto. A ameaça física à vida da mulher de Jesus teria sido motivo suficiente para excluir o seu nome de todos os escritos da época. Essa explicação é bastante plausível, especialmente se levarmos em conta as severas punições sofridas pelos primeiros seguidores de Jesus.
O casamento de Jesus teve importância dinástica, unindo as famílias de dois grandes amigos: Davi, filho de Jessé, e Jônatas, filho de Saul. A história de amizade entre os dois era contada havia vários séculos nas casas dos judeus. Como Lázaro explicara à irmã, o casamento dela com Jesus também envolvia questões políticas. Mas era, acima de tudo, a realização de uma profecia.
O casamento foi realizado na casa de Simão, o leproso. Somente alguns amigos íntimos e suas famílias foram convidados. Era necessário manter o fato em segredo para que Herodes Antipas não descobrisse que uma herdeira de Benjamim unira-se em matrimônio e a um filho da casa de Davi. Mirian não se incomodava por não ser reconhecida em público como a mulher de Jesus, pois ele a fazia sentir-se completa e feliz. Ela já casara sabendo que seria um casamento dinástico e se dava por satisfeita com a ternura do marido e a gentil preocupação dele com sua timidez. Mirian deu a luz uma menina que, na visão de pesquisas da autora, recebeu o nome de Sara. Todo ano, de 23 a 25 de maio, realiza-se um festival na cidade de Les-Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, na França, no santuário dedicado a Santa Sara, a egípcia, também chamada de Sara Kali, a 'rainha Negra'. As pesquisas revelaram que esse festival, cuja origem remonta à Idade Média, homenageia uma criança 'egípcia' que acompanhava Maria Madalena, Marta e Lázaro quando de sua chegada à região, num pequeno barco, por volta do ano 42 d.C. Entretanto, pelas minhas próprias pesquisas, a versão mais popular é de que Sara kali era uma cigana serva das Marias. Ela teria fugido das perseguições de Roma aos primeiros cristãos junto de Maria Jacobina ou Jacobé (irmã de Maria, mãe de Jesus) Maria Salomé (mãe dos apóstolos Tiago e João), Maria Madalena, Marta, Lázaro e Maximiliano. Outras versões diferentes também existem. Evidenciando os fatos, embora dois Evangelhos, o de Marcos e o de Lucas, sustentem que Maria Madalena foi curada por Jesus da possessão de sete demônios, não está escrito, em lugar nenhum, que ela era uma prostituta. Apesar disso, esse estigma a tem seguido por toda a cristandade. A história original da unção de Jesus em Betânia pela mulher do vaso de alabastro deve ter sido mal interpretada pelo autor do Evangelho de Lucas, que o escreveu quase cinquenta anos depois do acontecimento.
A unção realizada pela mulher em Betânia era similar a uma conhecida prática ritual das sacerdotisas sagradas, ou 'prostitutas' do templo, nos cultos às deusas do Império Romano. Uma passagem muito conhecida e curiosa do Salmo 23, atribuída ao rei Davi, faz lembrar os tempos antigos quando Deus era identificado com o papel da Noiva: 'preparas um banquete para mim na presença dos meus inimigos; unges a minha cabeça com óleo, o meu cálice transborda.' Esse trecho retrata Deus como feminino: nos ritos do Oriente Médio da Antiguidade, a deusa é a Noiva que unge o consorte escolhido, outorgando-lhe sua graça e majestade.
Nas religiões da Suméria e de Canaã, ungir com óleo a cabeça do rei era um ritual realizado pela herdeira ou pela sacerdotisa real, que representava a deusa. Em grego, esse ritual era chamado hieros gamos, ou 'Casamento Sagrado'. Quando um evento importante é muito perigoso para ser discutido, ele é estabelecido como mito e contado como uma lenda. Foi o que aconteceu com a história de Jesus e a Noiva Perdida transformada no mito como a mulher do vaso de alabastro. O Santo Gral não era o cálice sagrado com poder de cura usado por Jesus na ultima ceia, mas sim o Sangraal, Mirian e a descendência real carregada no seu ventre. Nos tempos medievais, a maior parte do mundo cristão tinha crenças radicalmente dualistas sobre as mulheres.
A existência material, a carne, o diabo e o sexo feminino eram colocados juntos como a fonte do mal, que impedia os homens de alcançarem a união espiritual com Deus. Frequentemente, os clérigos exploravam os pobres e levavam uma vida de relativo luxo, enquanto os paroquianos passavam fome. As seitas albigenses eram claramente anticlericais e antieclesiásticas. Os cátaros formaram a sua própria Igreja em oposição ao que acreditavam ser falsos ensinamentos de Roma. Eles repudiavam o ritual da missa e também a cruz, que consideravam um instrumento de tortura que não poderia ser algo de veneração. Os cátaros não precisavam de um sacerdote para realizar cultos nem de um espaço físico para guardar artefatos e relíquias.
Sua fé era praticada nas casas e nos campos. Desprezavam a necessidade de igrejas, relíquias e sacramentos. Entre eles, homens e mulheres eram considerados iguais, e a mulher tinha o direito de herdar e possuir propriedades.
As mulheres também podiam pregar. Isso refletia a consideração que as mulheres, inclusive Maria Madalena, já haviam merecido quando a Igreja ainda engatinhava. Os pregadores cátaros, de ambos os sexos, viajavam pelos campos aos pares, exatamente como faziam os discípulos de Jesus na Palestina, partilhando a comida, trabalhando lado a lado com os pobres e pregando a vida simples e pura dos espíritos iluminados. São Domingos e, mais tarde, São Francisco de Assis ficaram tão impressionados com os métodos cátaros de evangelização que os tomaram como exemplo para seus frades mendicantes, determinando que fizessem votos de pobreza e caridade. Uma característica extraordinária dos cátaros era a sua insistência em ver a Bíblia traduzida para o seu dialeto, denominado língua d'oc, e fazer com que as pessoas aprendessem a ler os Evangelhos de Jesus em seu próprio idioma. Para isso, diversas fábricas de papel foram instaladas em toda a região, impulsionando o ressurgimento da arte, do pensamento e das letras em toda a Europa.
A crença de que Jesus era casado e tinha herdeiros era natural de Provença. Acreditava-se que Maria Madalena vivera naquela terra e fora enterrada ali com seu irmão, sua irmã e vários amigos próximos. O mesmo aconteceu com as genealogias secretas das famílias nobres locais. Após a Cruzada Albigense, filhas sobreviventes das famílias nobres do Midi foram forçadas a casar-se com pessoas do Norte, provavelmente para dissipar as reivindicações de certos clãs do Sul de que foram os únicos a carregar em seu sangue a linhagem merovíngia. Isso não era novidade, uma vez que, para consolidar sua pretensão ao trono dos francos, o próprio pai de Carlos Magno havia desposado uma princesa merovíngia.
Os cavalheiros templários tinham acesso à sabedoria esotérica do mundo clássico, provavelmente preservada em fontes islâmicas que os membros da ordem encontraram no Oriente Médio. O seu conhecimento de matemática e engenharia deu origem ao estilo gótico de arquitetura, que se disseminou por toda a Europa, quase da noite para o dia, como se cumprisse um planejamento, no período de 1130 a 1250. O mais importante desses dogmas era o princípio cósmico da harmonia entre as energias masculinas e femininas. Posterior a isso, as tentativas posteriores de resgatar o feminino sofreram uma repressão severa; e místicos, artistas e cientistas da Igreja herética foram forçados a buscar seus interesses dissimuladores. Disciplinas como medicina, alquimia, astrologia e psicologia, que antes floresciam, viram-se obrigadas a se esconder, condenadas como ocultas.
A fé dos templários celebrava o equilíbrio cósmico dos opostos, incorporando-o à construção das catedrais. Os magníficos vitrais com rosas são outro exemplo do feminino ressurgente entre os que desenhavam as igrejas medievais para honrar a Notre-Dame. Além disso, os ciganos dessa época acreditavam que as catedrais góticas do Norte da França haviam sido intencionalmente posicionadas para formar uma imagem espelhada da constelação de Virgem (Nossa Senhora) traçada no chão. Os templários foram levados a julgamento, acusados de heresia. Durante sete anos, a inquisição os interrogou com imensa brutalidade, numa tentativa de descobrir o esconderijo de seu famoso tesouro.
Quando o Vaticano e o rei francês Felipe IV resolveram acabar com a secreta Ordem dos Cavalheiros Templários, em 1307, os poucos que conseguiram escapar se mantiveram incógnitos. Um grande número deles reapareceu, tempos depois, na Escócia. Quatro séculos mais tarde, muitas das doutrinas dessa ordem renasceram na fraternidade secreta dos maçons. Há numerosos fósseis da verdade que ligam os modernos maçons aos templários.
Interessante analisar a associação artística entre Maria Madalena e Ísis, a Deusa do paraíso na Terra, que chorou sobre o corpo mutilado de Osíris e concebeu um filho dele. Aqueles que sabiam sobre o Sangraal parecem ter estendido o epítelo filhos da viúva a todos os descendentes da viúva de Jesus, que por sua vez, era uma descendente de Davi. O mito da supremacia e do status da casa de Davi floresceu entre as famílias dos templários.
Um artefato medieval ligado por seus símbolos à heresia da Noiva Perdida é o tarô, que deu origem ao nosso baralho moderno. O lugar em que teria surgido é obscuro, e especulações a esse respeito vão da Índia ao Egito. Embora essas cartas já fossem uma realidade em 1392, acredita-se que o baralho mais antigo ainda existente tenha sido criado por um pintor do século XV, possivelmente Andréa Mantegna (1432-1506). Os quatro naipes e 22 trunfos do baralho desse período compartilham símbolos que contêm a heresia do Graal, sobretudo o baralho de Carlos VI, ou baralho de Gringonneur, que parece ter uma íntima ligação com a tradição secreta.
Um século depois, as cartas do tarô circulavam por cortes da Europa, levadas por bandos de ciganos, bufões, malabaristas e acrobatas de cidade em cidade. Elas acabaram sendo usadas em mesas de jogo de praticamente todos os cantos da Europa.
Os artistas viajantes começaram onde os trovadores haviam parado, e seus símbolos ainda persistem nos baralhos modernos. O significado das cartas do tarô tem sido motivo de debates há muitos anos, e numerosas revisões e interpretações vinculam-no ostensivamente à alquimia, às sociedades secretas dos maçons e rosa-cruzes, bem como às ciências ocultas em geral. Embora o significado de muitas cartas tenha sido declarado obscuro, elas ainda conservam uma aura de perigo. A Igreja condenou o tarô como herético quando ele apareceu pela primeira vez na Europa, porém ninguém conseguiu determinar com certeza que heresia se escondia em seus símbolos. O conhecimento da heresia do Graal surge para esclarecer esse enigma. Um baralho de tarô é composto pelos Arcanos Menores (que consistem em quatro naipes chamados espadas, ou gládios; copas, ou taças; ouros, ou estrelas de cinco pontas; e paus, ou bastões) e Arcanos Maiores (os trunfos).
Os baralhos modernos não possuem mais os trunfos, pois estes foram os mais cruelmente condenados pela igreja, embora o truque do trunfo seja estrategicamente ainda presente em muitos jogos de cartas atuais. A única relíquia dos 22 trunfos originais encontrada nos baralhos modernos, e que é significativa para a nossa história, é o curinga, o louco ou bobo, remanescente dos palhaços de Deus, aos quais se atribuiu a ação de terem espalhado os dogmas da heresia albigense.
Os rosas-cruzes, cujas sociedades secretas proliferaram durante o século XVII, mas que, provavelmente, se originaram muito tempo antes, usavam o símbolo da cruz cor-de-rosa, cujo real significado só era conhecido por um pequeno grupo de iniciados. Essa não era a cruz ortodoxa de Pedro e Jesus, a qual foi repudiada pelos hereges como um impiedoso instrumento de tortura.
A cruz era o X vermelho da iluminação verdadeira, símbolo de lux ou luz. Entretanto, como a versão que tinham da vida e da natureza de Jesus estava em desacordo com a da Igreja Romana, ela recebeu a censura máxima e foi condenada e repudiada. O sentido pejorativo da letra X na linguagem moderna é uma evidência do poder que o vencedor tem de destruir os vencidos e reescrever a história. A Igreja oficial desacreditou o X e o tornou um anátema na comunidade. Ele possui a união do V normal da mulher e o V invertido do homem, representando a união perfeita. Ainda vale lembrar que o V masculino com o feminino dentro um do outro forma a estrela de seis pontas de Davi (ou Selo de Salomão), simbolo da perfeição.
A besta é, invariavelmente, uma ameaça à mulher (Apocalipse 12:6), enquanto a cruz vermelha é associada ao resgate dessa figura feminina. As feministas modernas viraram a lenda da Cinderela (esse nome significa serviçal com rosto coberto de cinzas) de cabeça para baixo. Desprezando a insinuação de que uma mulher precisa do homem para ser completa, elas não perceberam o ponto principal da história: é o príncipe que busca, com paixão, a sua parceira perdida. Cinderela personifica a crença de que, quando a noiva for encontrada e devolvida ao príncipe, o reino será curado. Esse tema é recorrente em nossos contos de fadas.
A questão essencial é a busca pela verdadeira companheira do príncipe. Outra variação ocorre na história A bela adormecida, em que a princesa Aurora é picada por um fuso envenenado e dorme por cem anos. No final, o príncipe precisa atravessar uma floresta de urzes, que cresceram ao redor da amada e ocultaram a sua própria existência. Somente sua forte determinação consegue unir o casal.
A imagem do impetuoso príncipe abrindo caminho pelos arbustos espinhentos na tentativa de encontrar sua princesa perdida, a sua outra metade, é particularmente significativa para o nosso mundo moderno. O masculino ferido, brandindo a sua espada de maneria imprudente, não está apenas ferido e frustrado, mas tornou-se perigoso. Quanto mais cedo ele se unir ao seu perdido, maltratado e repudiado lado feminino, melhor será! Em um outro conto familiar, a princesa Branca de Neve é condenada à morte por sua madrasta. Quase sempre há uma madrasta maligna e invejosa ou uma bruxa feia tentando manter a princesa separada de seu companheiro. A princesa come uma maçã envenenada dada pela madrasta e somente a chegada providencial do príncipe salva-a do poder mortífero da maçã. Rapunzel com suas tranças tem o mesmo tema e lembra as histórias de Santa Bárbara nos contos folclóricos, a qual foi uma virgem mártir, filha de um cavaleiro pagão do século III, na Síria. Ela queria ser cristã, e seu pai, horrorizado diante dessa possibilidade, trancou-a em uma torre. O sacerdote que ia em segredo instruíla na fé precisava subir por suas tranças para alcançar a prisão. Enfim, todos os contos retratam a contraparte do belo príncipe sempre ferida, perdida ou aprisionada.
A desvalorização do feminino deve ser revertida, não para ocupar o lugar do masculino, mas para assumir o papel harmonioso da contraparte divinamente pura há tanto tempo desejada, a Noiva-Irmã Perdida. Com o início desta era de Aquários, parece um tanto providencial que os algarismos romanos para os anos desde 2000 sejam MM e que as iniciais de Maria Madalena formem as linhas onduladas desse signo. Nas pinturas que retratam Madalena, seu cabelo é quase sempre longo, descendo pela cabeça como as ondas paralelas na representação desse signo.
Para restaurar o princípio feminino expresso em Maria Madalena, é necessário estabelecer sua verdadeira identidade como Noiva, e não como prostituta. Embora tenha sido mais tarde assim chamada pela igreja, a verdadeira Maria Madalena jamais foi desprezada por Jesus nos Evangelhos. Ela era o amor de sua vida. Como nos contos de fadas, o belo príncipe procura por ela há dois mil anos, tentando devolver-lhe o lugar ao seu lado que, por direito, lhe pertence.
May 23, 2014
A curious book supporting feminism from a spiritual framework. Starbird provides historical descriptions based on other readings of the likelihood of Jesus Christ's wife Mary Magdalen and societies, especially of Provence, France, that emerged in connection with the "sacred feminine" culture surrounding the Merovingian kings and queens (e.g. Eleanor of Aquitaine). The auther uses historical records such as the lost/banned scriptures of "heretic" gospels and interprets the proliferation of many folkloric tales (e.g., Briar Rose, Cinderella, Rapunzel) and the Arthurian legends surrounding the quest for the Holy Grail as a way by supporters of the feminine spirituality within the Christian religious sects post-crucifixion to have maintained the culture and spiritualism of Christ and Mary as the blade and chalice of a lost millenium usurped by the male-dominated Catholic church through the Inquisition.
This book was used in large part as the basis for Brown's book, The Da Vinci Code and the movie of the same name. As an historical read it was interesting to learn about "alternative church", the cult of the Knights Templar, and the accounts about the work of bards, troubadours, and folklore story tellers during the Middle Ages. Politically and, therefore, historically, the book is myopic in its depiction of medieval history dismissing, for example, the struggles of the Arab peoples ("saracens") for control of the Middle East during the Crusades as sideshow to the "grander" vision of restoring the feminine within religion; the council of Nicea is fairly nonexistent, the proliferation of eastern religions and the Byzantine empire are largely ignored (I guess the maintenance of civilization by eastern peoples wasn't of interest if you're only concerned about Mary having gone to France), and the book takes a fairly biased turn at the end toward supporting the tenets of judaism that potentially can become an apology for the Zionist occupation of the Middle East, all under the guise of judaism being somehow more "feminine" than Catholicism (eastern religions, as noted, are not all that present). Starbird makes many leaps of faith in presenting her opinions and interpretations of the historical record, but then, what historians--especially scripturalists--don't?
The underlying questions about the fallacy that Christ was more than a man (the "Holy Sprit seated at the right hand of God") and a) that he was conceived without sex or b) that he had no wife and potentially a bloodline are truly important to demistify. After all, people like Jesus of Nazareth and the prophets before and after "him" can only be interpreted in a male-dominated social context. Jesus' "story" is mythologized clearly to justify the practices of the present and future with an ahistorical stamp about untenable fantasies and establishing biased social fallacies in support of our current oppressive social framework. Hence, Starbird's accounts, born of her own dynamic from religious dogmatist to religious social revolutionary, are important to consider despite her very human blinders. Indeed, taking a cue from a different field, Darwin destroyed the very foundations of creationist mythology with meticulous, almost dogmatic zeal, yet, was himself a believer of "faith"; all of us are products of the times in which we live.
I think this book is worth reading as a primer on various issues surrounding feminism and religion and to understand the furor surrounding Catholicism's abhorrence of Brown's book and the Da Vinci Code Film. One can only ask one thing about a book and its author; will it spur you to ask more? I think Dr.Starbird accomplishes this criterion, even from the point of view of a religious sceptic. The issues of feminism and the return of a balance between "yin and yang" remain a major task of humanity in its chosen trajectory that resulted in male domination of our planet. Reading history can never be about choosing one "factual" account over another. Rather, reading and study are about choosing to see the world from someone else's vantage and then reconciling that vantage with our own. If we simply follow, we adopt a religious ethic, even if our choices of texts and ideas are antithetical to religion. But there is also the need to remember that every written word is someone's idea of the world and, therefore, only a version--approximation--of the "truth". The truth is concrete--there are women and men, both are required to procreate and for a society to flourish irrespective whether that "flourishing" is oppressive or liberatory. Hence, it only stands to reason that every perspective possible to encounter is needed for a human intellect to flourish.
In short, read the story and ask, Is there more?
This book was used in large part as the basis for Brown's book, The Da Vinci Code and the movie of the same name. As an historical read it was interesting to learn about "alternative church", the cult of the Knights Templar, and the accounts about the work of bards, troubadours, and folklore story tellers during the Middle Ages. Politically and, therefore, historically, the book is myopic in its depiction of medieval history dismissing, for example, the struggles of the Arab peoples ("saracens") for control of the Middle East during the Crusades as sideshow to the "grander" vision of restoring the feminine within religion; the council of Nicea is fairly nonexistent, the proliferation of eastern religions and the Byzantine empire are largely ignored (I guess the maintenance of civilization by eastern peoples wasn't of interest if you're only concerned about Mary having gone to France), and the book takes a fairly biased turn at the end toward supporting the tenets of judaism that potentially can become an apology for the Zionist occupation of the Middle East, all under the guise of judaism being somehow more "feminine" than Catholicism (eastern religions, as noted, are not all that present). Starbird makes many leaps of faith in presenting her opinions and interpretations of the historical record, but then, what historians--especially scripturalists--don't?
The underlying questions about the fallacy that Christ was more than a man (the "Holy Sprit seated at the right hand of God") and a) that he was conceived without sex or b) that he had no wife and potentially a bloodline are truly important to demistify. After all, people like Jesus of Nazareth and the prophets before and after "him" can only be interpreted in a male-dominated social context. Jesus' "story" is mythologized clearly to justify the practices of the present and future with an ahistorical stamp about untenable fantasies and establishing biased social fallacies in support of our current oppressive social framework. Hence, Starbird's accounts, born of her own dynamic from religious dogmatist to religious social revolutionary, are important to consider despite her very human blinders. Indeed, taking a cue from a different field, Darwin destroyed the very foundations of creationist mythology with meticulous, almost dogmatic zeal, yet, was himself a believer of "faith"; all of us are products of the times in which we live.
I think this book is worth reading as a primer on various issues surrounding feminism and religion and to understand the furor surrounding Catholicism's abhorrence of Brown's book and the Da Vinci Code Film. One can only ask one thing about a book and its author; will it spur you to ask more? I think Dr.Starbird accomplishes this criterion, even from the point of view of a religious sceptic. The issues of feminism and the return of a balance between "yin and yang" remain a major task of humanity in its chosen trajectory that resulted in male domination of our planet. Reading history can never be about choosing one "factual" account over another. Rather, reading and study are about choosing to see the world from someone else's vantage and then reconciling that vantage with our own. If we simply follow, we adopt a religious ethic, even if our choices of texts and ideas are antithetical to religion. But there is also the need to remember that every written word is someone's idea of the world and, therefore, only a version--approximation--of the "truth". The truth is concrete--there are women and men, both are required to procreate and for a society to flourish irrespective whether that "flourishing" is oppressive or liberatory. Hence, it only stands to reason that every perspective possible to encounter is needed for a human intellect to flourish.
In short, read the story and ask, Is there more?
April 2, 2023
Margaret Starbird was an orthodox Roman Catholic before she began to question what she had been taught, and this led her on a journey to discover the role of Mary Magdalen in the life of Jesus Christ. She came to believe that Mary is the 'Grail' for which the world has sought - that she was the wife of Jesus Christ, forced to flee to the shores of southern France upon his death. It makes for a good story (see The Davinci Code by Dan Brown), but Starbird does not prove her beliefs. She is concerned that the suppression of Mary Magdalen's true role is the suppression of the Eternal Feminine, and until we embrace the truth, the world will continue to be male dominated, and in turmoil.
My first clue that Starbird is not a good scholar was when she said that Mary of Bethany (sister of Martha and Lazarus) is Mary Magdalene. I'm not Roman Catholic, but I have gone to church for years, and had never heard that. I looked it up, and sure enough Pope Gregory declared them to be the same person, so it is a belief within the Catholic Church, but it isn't clear to me how someone who lived in Bethany could be the same person as someone who lived in Magdala. So concern number one is that Starbird did not question her orthodox teachings quite as much as a scholar should. Pope Gregory is also the source for the belief that Mary was a prostitute, not the Bible. One wonders why a prostitute would be living with her respectable brother and sister, but I digress.
The book itself is all over the map - Starbird brings in fairytales, Grail lore, art history, and the kitchen sink to prove that Magdalene has been hidden in plain sight by the heretics. Naturally, the patterns of stories through the centuries and cultures contain similarities - we literary types call that commonality 'archetypes' and it does not prove Magdalene was Christ's wife, or that Cinderella is a disguised Magdalene story.
Her central thesis that restoring Mary Magdalene to her 'true' role as Christ's wife would restore the balance of masculine and feminine is also wonky - there are plenty of wives in the Bible, starting with Eve, through Ruth and Mary of Nazareth to name a few, and that made no difference to the equation of Masculine and Feminine. I think rather that when Christ is presented as celibate, it is not to suppress the Eternal Feminine, as much as it is to favour the spiritual over the sexual: Christ's teachings are intended to be paramount. That's an understandable perspective for the chroniclers of early Christianity. But I think too, the suppression of human sexuality is certainly a fair charge to be laid at the feet of religions and historical moral codes. If anyone wants to write a book about how religion, morality and the subsequent rejection of the human body warped our world and suppressed women and men, that would be a book worth reading. Alas, The Woman With the Alabaster Jar is not such a book.
My first clue that Starbird is not a good scholar was when she said that Mary of Bethany (sister of Martha and Lazarus) is Mary Magdalene. I'm not Roman Catholic, but I have gone to church for years, and had never heard that. I looked it up, and sure enough Pope Gregory declared them to be the same person, so it is a belief within the Catholic Church, but it isn't clear to me how someone who lived in Bethany could be the same person as someone who lived in Magdala. So concern number one is that Starbird did not question her orthodox teachings quite as much as a scholar should. Pope Gregory is also the source for the belief that Mary was a prostitute, not the Bible. One wonders why a prostitute would be living with her respectable brother and sister, but I digress.
The book itself is all over the map - Starbird brings in fairytales, Grail lore, art history, and the kitchen sink to prove that Magdalene has been hidden in plain sight by the heretics. Naturally, the patterns of stories through the centuries and cultures contain similarities - we literary types call that commonality 'archetypes' and it does not prove Magdalene was Christ's wife, or that Cinderella is a disguised Magdalene story.
Her central thesis that restoring Mary Magdalene to her 'true' role as Christ's wife would restore the balance of masculine and feminine is also wonky - there are plenty of wives in the Bible, starting with Eve, through Ruth and Mary of Nazareth to name a few, and that made no difference to the equation of Masculine and Feminine. I think rather that when Christ is presented as celibate, it is not to suppress the Eternal Feminine, as much as it is to favour the spiritual over the sexual: Christ's teachings are intended to be paramount. That's an understandable perspective for the chroniclers of early Christianity. But I think too, the suppression of human sexuality is certainly a fair charge to be laid at the feet of religions and historical moral codes. If anyone wants to write a book about how religion, morality and the subsequent rejection of the human body warped our world and suppressed women and men, that would be a book worth reading. Alas, The Woman With the Alabaster Jar is not such a book.
May 14, 2009
I think that when I read "The Gospel of Mary Magdalen" that I was looking for more of what I found in this book. I feel Margaret Starbird does a good job at the beginning of her book of showing the possibilities of what could have been and how the relationship between Mary Magdalen and Jesus could have been misinterpreted in the bible. I have been slightly bitter about the fact that I grew up believing Mary to be a prostitute b/c that is waht my Sunday school teachers taught me, only to find out that she was cleared of ever holding that position years ago by the Catholic church. Since then I have been interested in Mary Magdalen and this book does a great job of showing how loved she was for centuries after the death of Jesus in different parts of the world. Whether you believe what the author says about Mary and JEsus' relationship is one thing, but I really do think that Mary Magdalen deserves much more respect than the church has offered her and encourage people to read this book and see what I mean.
I really liked the information at the beginning of the book, while the last part of the book didn't do much for me. I sometimes felt like she might be stretching to make her point with some of the artwork and fairytales that she brought up. Although I did find the information about the Freemasons and the Knights Templar very interesting.
All in all I enjoyed this book and feel that it does a good job of opening up ideas of how things could've been and the way that information gets distorted through years of communication and translations. It does a great job of showing how the feminine is so important to the church - even if the Catholic church keeps trying to deny that.
I really liked the information at the beginning of the book, while the last part of the book didn't do much for me. I sometimes felt like she might be stretching to make her point with some of the artwork and fairytales that she brought up. Although I did find the information about the Freemasons and the Knights Templar very interesting.
All in all I enjoyed this book and feel that it does a good job of opening up ideas of how things could've been and the way that information gets distorted through years of communication and translations. It does a great job of showing how the feminine is so important to the church - even if the Catholic church keeps trying to deny that.
September 16, 2021
This book addresses a multi-faceted set of beliefs intertwined with known facts and much speculation. I love the subject matter of the Sacred Feminine by itself and will probably pursue that more, as I am fascinated with ancient religions, especially the earth-based ones and goddess worship. There are definitely some interesting things shrouded in mystery in Rennes Le Chateau, where there are many churches and an overwhelming existence of worship dedicated to Mary Magdalen. I think there is a lot of history yet to be uncovered in that area, but the ties to a secret society tied to this (truth or fiction?) are doubtful in my mind. The story of the priest who came upon great deals of wealth suddenly and the area having direct ties to the Cathars who were wiped out in the Crusades (along with their form of Christianity) has always fascinated and frustrated me. The Catholic Church wanting to control the direction of Christianity is no surprise, either, nor was the idea of certain gospels being hand-picked for the bible and others thrown aside. It was all very political and all about control and shaped what we know as the Christianity of today - limited to what they wanted us to know. This was not my favorite book on these subjects but helped me to decide what to pursue next in this fascinating historical inquiry.
November 3, 2021
Hm. Long, rather breathless investigation of the “alternate Christianity” that centred on Jesus and Mary Magdalen as the holy Bride and Bridegroom. Masons, Albigensians, the Priory of Sion, troubadours and the tarot, etc., etc., etc. I have no trouble believing that the historical Jesus might have been a married man, or that the wedding in Cana might have been his own, or that he might have had offspring, or that the established church would have ruthlessly suppressed such information. I do have some trouble with the leaps Starbird makes between scraps of legend and whatnot to the conclusions she reaches. I also found it rather surprising that she could go on at such length about the Cathars/Albigensians, who it seems were actually devotees of Mary Magdalen, and never mention their little foibles, like being totally against all sexual contact. How does that relate to honouring the holy Bride and Bridegroom, I’d like to know? Ah well.
March 19, 2010
I found the different undestandings of the sacred feminine and the discussion about tarot cards within this book quite interesting. I think that the discussions of imagery on tarot cards is interesting as Starbird gives different interpretations to the cards that are usually seen as negative. Starbird's ability to discuss complex ideas in simple ways causes an ease of reading for the information. I think that Starbird's book is a facinating example of thinking beyond contemporary Christianity.
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November 18, 2009didn't finish; had heard it all before in holy blood, holy grail
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