There is no reason to think the Gospel of Mary is "real" in any meaningful sense. It postdates the Gospels by centuries and the texts you cite as in agreement with it are also from centuries later. The Gospel of Thomas may be from earlier but it was always universally rejected as spurious.
"Ever noticed how the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke) read like slightly reworded copies of each other, as if someone was tweaking the script?" Yes, literally every person who has ever read the Gospels has noticed this.
Perhaps St. Gregory conflates too many figures in his depiction of Mary Magdalene, but this is not to deprecate her at all. He identifies her not just with the repentant woman of Luke 7 (and by the way, this description immediately precedes the identification of Mary Magdalene as the one from whom seven demons were expelled; and so this has been read as a subtle identification), but also with the Mary, the sister of Martha. In this, he praises her as the icon of the contemplative life, the one who "has chosen the better part, which shall not be taken from her," and the one who "has done an excellent thing for me" and which will be told "in memory of her." She is called "Apostle of the Apostles" by the greatest teachers of the Middle Ages. This is not a concession to some Gnostic forgery.
Sorry, but I hate this sort of fiction that pretends to uncover the "true meaning" of the Gospel, when it's really just pandering to personal biases. "Oh wow, what if really it's okay to sin, and the Church covered it up." Please. Just go sin if you must, but do not justify it by recounting false stories about the Lord and his saints.
Furthermore, the points you make that are actually true are not earth-shattering. Peter acting like a buffoon?! That happens every other page in the canonical Gospels. Women having a better grasp of the Gospel than the disciples? Of course. They were the ones that remained at the Cross. While the disciples get uncomfortable at any mention of death, Martha gets a wonderful profession of faith in John 12: "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world." These are important themes of the actual Gospels.
Dangerous freedom? Please. Yes, it is very interesting as a document showing what a 3rd century sect may have believed. There are indeed echoes of an authentic tradition. But to claim such writings as equal or superior to the Gospels as records of fact is embarrassing at best.
Thank you for your thoughtful engagement—genuinely. I appreciate the depth of your response, and I’d like to offer some clarity in return.
Yes, many of these texts, including the Gospel of Mary, were written later than the canonical Gospels. But later doesn’t always mean irrelevant. The canon itself was the result of centuries of debate, and many early Christian writings—now labeled “apocryphal”—were once read, discussed, and respected in certain communities before being officially sidelined.
The Gospel of James, for example, is also non-canonical and postdates the New Testament. Yet it profoundly shaped Christian tradition—our understanding of Mary the Mother of Jesus, her perpetual virginity, even the names of her parents. We don’t consider that heretical. So the age or canonicity of a text doesn’t automatically define its spiritual value—or cultural impact.
As for St. Gregory’s interpretation of Mary Magdalene, yes—he honored her. But he also collapsed multiple women into one figure, effectively rebranding her through the lens of repentance. That may not have been intended as deprecation, but it shaped centuries of theology that reduced her presence from teacher to redeemed sinner. That shift is part of what I’m exploring—not to condemn tradition, but to recognize its editorial fingerprints.
You mention that I’m promoting fiction or personal bias. I understand the concern. But my goal is not to “reveal the true Gospel.” I’m not preaching a replacement—I’m inviting questions about how theological narratives are shaped, preserved, and erased. Curiosity isn’t rebellion—it’s reverence with its eyes open.
And on the topic of “dangerous freedom”—I’m not saying “sin is fine” or “truth is whatever we want.” I’m exploring why certain teachings offer liberation through inner knowledge rather than external control—and how those teachings were handled by the early Church. That’s not agenda—it’s inquiry.
We can both agree that early Christianity was not uniform. These apocryphal texts may not be historically primary, but they are windows into the spiritual tensions, questions, and alternatives that were present in those formative centuries. That’s not an embarrassment—it’s a more human, more textured truth.
I make it very clear in the piece that these are interpretations, not truths carved in stone. I’m not offering answers. I’m asking questions. Often uncomfortable ones. Because I believe faith, like history, gets stronger—not weaker—when it’s examined honestly.
I’m not claiming certainty. I’m asking why certainty is so often enforced at the expense of curiosity.
I appreciate your gracious reception of my comment. Based on your notes that I see, you seem sensitive to truth and beauty, and I hoped my sincerity would come across.
Not sure how old you were when Da Vinci Code dropped, but I still remember the way people uncritically lapped it up. It was a fun read for me, it made me inquire into the Gnostic gospels, but eventually I arrived at a very firm conviction of the extraordinary character of the fourfold Gospel received into the canon, and the uniqueness of the Christ presented therein. The Protoevangelium of James enjoyed a bit more credibility than the Gnostic Gospels because it doesn't contain dubious doctrine as they did, and the way Our Lady is portrayed is at least agreeable with what the authentic Gospels contain.
Surely you understand how offensive it would be to see false stories circulated about someone you love, and that is how this sort of thing struck me. To say that the Church "erased" Mary by censuring Gnostic gospels and upholding the canonical ones... that is indeed making a claim about who she was, and a dubious enough claim that I wanted to respond.
I had a book about Mary Magdalene which I can no longer find on my shelves which included an extensive argument for the "unity" of her person, comprising Mary of Bethany and the woman in Luke 7 (though excluding the woman of John 8). If you had any interest at all, I would be glad to reconstruct the argument as I think it presents a coherent picture of this Mary in the Gospels, and one that is fruitfully venerated throughout the ages of the Church. I may put it together for my own benefit anyway, but it's always nice to write for someone else!
Thank you again for this—it’s genuinely refreshing to have a conversation like this online, especially about something that means a lot to both of us in different ways.
I absolutely understand your point about how it can feel when stories about someone you love are distorted or reframed. That’s a powerful lens, and I respect that deeply. And you’re right—my claim about erasure is interpretive, and I don’t expect everyone to agree with it. But it’s the kind of tension I think is worth sitting with.
Popcorn & Lore isn’t here to tell anyone what to think.
I’m not offering conclusions—I’m asking questions. I explore perspectives without claiming truth, but I believe that opening space for these kinds of dialogues, even (especially) when we don’t fully agree, helps deepen all of our understanding.
And yes—I’d be curious to read your reconstruction if you end up writing it. Not to debate, but just to see how you’ve made sense of her across the texts. That kind of thoughtful reflection is rare, and I appreciate you offering to share it.
Olga is referring to a work known as the "Protoevangelium of James," a 2nd-century work about the birth of Our Lord. Never included in canonical lists of the New Testament (and is not actually by James), but certainly worth a read. It agrees with the details given by Matthew and Luke, but then adds more that is not attested elsewhere.
Thank you both—yes, I was referring to the Protoevangelium of James, not the epistle. Really appreciate you jumping in with that clarification, D.—you explained it perfectly.
It’s a great example of how a later text outside the canon still managed to shape Christian tradition in meaningful ways. Despite not being included in scripture, it influenced how many came to view Mary’s life and role—proof that even unofficial stories can leave a lasting imprint.
I was lucky enough to go see the Gospel of Thomas years ago, either in 2005 or 2006, when it was on display at the National Geography facility in Washington, D.C. While I am not a religious person, the woman I was dating at the time was, and I thought it would be significant enough to take her to, while there was the opportunity.
There was some debate at the time because of what was recorded related to Mary's place in the congregation of Jesus, and this article explores that debate very well.
I guess being middle-aged does carry some benefits after all (along with all the disadvantages) in that I've seen and done some things!
Thank you, Olga, for putting this together. It's an interesting read, and you did a great job.
I would encourage everyone to learn history and its context because deliberate omissions can have devastating impacts on context.
Thank you so much, Emma—this really means a lot. I love that you brought up the Gospel of Thomas exhibit and how those conversations around Mary’s place in the early Church were already surfacing even then. You’re absolutely right: when parts of a story are deliberately left out, it doesn’t just change the narrative—it distorts the meaning entirely. That’s the heart of what I’m exploring.
Popcorn & Lore isn’t here to tell anyone what to think.
It’s here to examine, to challenge, and to ask the uncomfortable questions—the kind that open up new paths of thought instead of closing them off. If something we thought we knew starts to shift under the weight of a different perspective… well, that’s where the real thinking begins.
Also: your case for middle age is compelling. I’ll take that wisdom boost any day.
Thanks again for reading and for sharing your insight—it genuinely adds depth to the conversation.
The future is safe in the hands of women like you - I pass the torch. My place is now to support, promote, and applaud (I'm actually not that old that I have stepped out of life; middle age only feels like death because of the way society sees middle-aged women).
Great for business, definitely. Priests are the mystic in-between the divine and the peasant and king. I nice gig and fuck they kept it for over 2k years.
Also, the church spent centuries exterminating gnostic sects. The Cathars, never could exterminate the Basque.
Earth is hell, you are your own god, and Mary a gnostic a keeper of that knowledge.
I find it funny how the word Agnostic has come to mean "without religion" but really means "without knowledge".
Exactly. The business model was divine—literally. And yes, the Cathars, the Gnostics… history keeps trying to delete what it can’t control. Mary just slipped through the cracks with her jar of uncomfortable truths.
Gnostic pseudopigraphal "gospel" written centuries after Mary lived. It wasn't hidden or censored, it was never even in the running for part of the Canon and never taken seriously to begin with. None of the Gnostic texts ever were.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Jean Marie—I really appreciate the engagement. You’re right that texts like the Gospel of Mary and others associated with Gnostic traditions were written later than the canonical Gospels, often in the second century. But that in itself isn’t unusual—many foundational Christian writings emerged over time, and the process of defining orthodoxy was long, messy, and deeply human.
What interests me—and what Popcorn & Lore is here to explore—isn’t whether these texts should have been canonized. It’s that they existed at all. They were read, copied, discussed, and cherished by real communities of believers who saw spiritual value in them. Their survival—despite condemnation, suppression, and in some cases, being buried for centuries (like at Nag Hammadi)—suggests they carried enough meaning to be preserved at great risk.
The canon we know today wasn’t handed down ready-made. It was shaped through councils, politics, theological disputes, and yes, editorial choices. The Protoevangelium of James is a great example: also non-canonical, written later, yet it deeply shaped Christian tradition—especially our view of Mary the Mother of Jesus. The line between “accepted” and “discarded” was often influenced by factors beyond spiritual truth—power, unity, control.
And to be clear: I don’t claim these excluded texts are more “true.” What I’m doing is asking what their existence, and their exclusion, says about the human systems that curated our shared spiritual history. I think there’s value in sitting with that—not to undermine faith, but to understand the way stories shape power, and vice versa.
So no, I’m not rewriting belief. I’m just following the silences. And sometimes, what was left out speaks just as loudly as what stayed in.
When people discuss the gnostic gospels, it doesn’t seem like they really mean us to take them seriously. For example, you mention how the Gospel of Thomas treats Mary Magdalene as an advanced spiritual being, but it also says silly things; (114) Simon Peter said to them : "Let Mary leave us, for women are not worthy of life." Jesus said : "Look, I will guide her in order to make her male, so that she too may become a living spirit like You males. For every female who will make herself male will enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
Thanks, Neil—I really appreciate you bringing that particular line up. Saying 114 from the Gospel of Thomas is definitely one of the more unsettling ones, and I completely understand why it throws people off. It’s been interpreted in a dozen different ways, and honestly, I think the confusion around it is part of what makes it worth looking at.
I’m not holding it up as something to believe in—just as a window into how some early communities framed spiritual transformation, often in symbolic or mystic terms that don’t always land cleanly today. Gnostic texts tend to be dense, layered, and sometimes contradictory—and that’s part of what makes them interesting to unpack.
That said, Popcorn & Lore isn’t here to promote doctrine or reinterpret faith. It’s a space for exploring stories—all kinds of stories—myths, folklore, erased narratives, banned ideas, social structures, and the human dynamics behind them. This post happened to sit in a theological space, but the next one might be completely different.
And to answer to your justified thought, I don’t claim these writings are “right.” I just think the ones we bury say as much about us as the ones we preserve.
Appreciate your engagement—it adds a lot to the conversation.
There is no reason to think the Gospel of Mary is "real" in any meaningful sense. It postdates the Gospels by centuries and the texts you cite as in agreement with it are also from centuries later. The Gospel of Thomas may be from earlier but it was always universally rejected as spurious.
"Ever noticed how the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke) read like slightly reworded copies of each other, as if someone was tweaking the script?" Yes, literally every person who has ever read the Gospels has noticed this.
Perhaps St. Gregory conflates too many figures in his depiction of Mary Magdalene, but this is not to deprecate her at all. He identifies her not just with the repentant woman of Luke 7 (and by the way, this description immediately precedes the identification of Mary Magdalene as the one from whom seven demons were expelled; and so this has been read as a subtle identification), but also with the Mary, the sister of Martha. In this, he praises her as the icon of the contemplative life, the one who "has chosen the better part, which shall not be taken from her," and the one who "has done an excellent thing for me" and which will be told "in memory of her." She is called "Apostle of the Apostles" by the greatest teachers of the Middle Ages. This is not a concession to some Gnostic forgery.
Sorry, but I hate this sort of fiction that pretends to uncover the "true meaning" of the Gospel, when it's really just pandering to personal biases. "Oh wow, what if really it's okay to sin, and the Church covered it up." Please. Just go sin if you must, but do not justify it by recounting false stories about the Lord and his saints.
Furthermore, the points you make that are actually true are not earth-shattering. Peter acting like a buffoon?! That happens every other page in the canonical Gospels. Women having a better grasp of the Gospel than the disciples? Of course. They were the ones that remained at the Cross. While the disciples get uncomfortable at any mention of death, Martha gets a wonderful profession of faith in John 12: "Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, he who is coming into the world." These are important themes of the actual Gospels.
Dangerous freedom? Please. Yes, it is very interesting as a document showing what a 3rd century sect may have believed. There are indeed echoes of an authentic tradition. But to claim such writings as equal or superior to the Gospels as records of fact is embarrassing at best.
Thank you for your thoughtful engagement—genuinely. I appreciate the depth of your response, and I’d like to offer some clarity in return.
Yes, many of these texts, including the Gospel of Mary, were written later than the canonical Gospels. But later doesn’t always mean irrelevant. The canon itself was the result of centuries of debate, and many early Christian writings—now labeled “apocryphal”—were once read, discussed, and respected in certain communities before being officially sidelined.
The Gospel of James, for example, is also non-canonical and postdates the New Testament. Yet it profoundly shaped Christian tradition—our understanding of Mary the Mother of Jesus, her perpetual virginity, even the names of her parents. We don’t consider that heretical. So the age or canonicity of a text doesn’t automatically define its spiritual value—or cultural impact.
As for St. Gregory’s interpretation of Mary Magdalene, yes—he honored her. But he also collapsed multiple women into one figure, effectively rebranding her through the lens of repentance. That may not have been intended as deprecation, but it shaped centuries of theology that reduced her presence from teacher to redeemed sinner. That shift is part of what I’m exploring—not to condemn tradition, but to recognize its editorial fingerprints.
You mention that I’m promoting fiction or personal bias. I understand the concern. But my goal is not to “reveal the true Gospel.” I’m not preaching a replacement—I’m inviting questions about how theological narratives are shaped, preserved, and erased. Curiosity isn’t rebellion—it’s reverence with its eyes open.
And on the topic of “dangerous freedom”—I’m not saying “sin is fine” or “truth is whatever we want.” I’m exploring why certain teachings offer liberation through inner knowledge rather than external control—and how those teachings were handled by the early Church. That’s not agenda—it’s inquiry.
We can both agree that early Christianity was not uniform. These apocryphal texts may not be historically primary, but they are windows into the spiritual tensions, questions, and alternatives that were present in those formative centuries. That’s not an embarrassment—it’s a more human, more textured truth.
I make it very clear in the piece that these are interpretations, not truths carved in stone. I’m not offering answers. I’m asking questions. Often uncomfortable ones. Because I believe faith, like history, gets stronger—not weaker—when it’s examined honestly.
I’m not claiming certainty. I’m asking why certainty is so often enforced at the expense of curiosity.
I appreciate your gracious reception of my comment. Based on your notes that I see, you seem sensitive to truth and beauty, and I hoped my sincerity would come across.
Not sure how old you were when Da Vinci Code dropped, but I still remember the way people uncritically lapped it up. It was a fun read for me, it made me inquire into the Gnostic gospels, but eventually I arrived at a very firm conviction of the extraordinary character of the fourfold Gospel received into the canon, and the uniqueness of the Christ presented therein. The Protoevangelium of James enjoyed a bit more credibility than the Gnostic Gospels because it doesn't contain dubious doctrine as they did, and the way Our Lady is portrayed is at least agreeable with what the authentic Gospels contain.
Surely you understand how offensive it would be to see false stories circulated about someone you love, and that is how this sort of thing struck me. To say that the Church "erased" Mary by censuring Gnostic gospels and upholding the canonical ones... that is indeed making a claim about who she was, and a dubious enough claim that I wanted to respond.
I had a book about Mary Magdalene which I can no longer find on my shelves which included an extensive argument for the "unity" of her person, comprising Mary of Bethany and the woman in Luke 7 (though excluding the woman of John 8). If you had any interest at all, I would be glad to reconstruct the argument as I think it presents a coherent picture of this Mary in the Gospels, and one that is fruitfully venerated throughout the ages of the Church. I may put it together for my own benefit anyway, but it's always nice to write for someone else!
Thank you again for this—it’s genuinely refreshing to have a conversation like this online, especially about something that means a lot to both of us in different ways.
I absolutely understand your point about how it can feel when stories about someone you love are distorted or reframed. That’s a powerful lens, and I respect that deeply. And you’re right—my claim about erasure is interpretive, and I don’t expect everyone to agree with it. But it’s the kind of tension I think is worth sitting with.
Popcorn & Lore isn’t here to tell anyone what to think.
I’m not offering conclusions—I’m asking questions. I explore perspectives without claiming truth, but I believe that opening space for these kinds of dialogues, even (especially) when we don’t fully agree, helps deepen all of our understanding.
And yes—I’d be curious to read your reconstruction if you end up writing it. Not to debate, but just to see how you’ve made sense of her across the texts. That kind of thoughtful reflection is rare, and I appreciate you offering to share it.
James wrote an epistle, not a gospel, and his letter was written a few decades later, not centuries.
Olga is referring to a work known as the "Protoevangelium of James," a 2nd-century work about the birth of Our Lord. Never included in canonical lists of the New Testament (and is not actually by James), but certainly worth a read. It agrees with the details given by Matthew and Luke, but then adds more that is not attested elsewhere.
https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0847.htm
Thank you both—yes, I was referring to the Protoevangelium of James, not the epistle. Really appreciate you jumping in with that clarification, D.—you explained it perfectly.
It’s a great example of how a later text outside the canon still managed to shape Christian tradition in meaningful ways. Despite not being included in scripture, it influenced how many came to view Mary’s life and role—proof that even unofficial stories can leave a lasting imprint.
That's a good piece!
I was lucky enough to go see the Gospel of Thomas years ago, either in 2005 or 2006, when it was on display at the National Geography facility in Washington, D.C. While I am not a religious person, the woman I was dating at the time was, and I thought it would be significant enough to take her to, while there was the opportunity.
There was some debate at the time because of what was recorded related to Mary's place in the congregation of Jesus, and this article explores that debate very well.
I guess being middle-aged does carry some benefits after all (along with all the disadvantages) in that I've seen and done some things!
Thank you, Olga, for putting this together. It's an interesting read, and you did a great job.
I would encourage everyone to learn history and its context because deliberate omissions can have devastating impacts on context.
Thank you so much, Emma—this really means a lot. I love that you brought up the Gospel of Thomas exhibit and how those conversations around Mary’s place in the early Church were already surfacing even then. You’re absolutely right: when parts of a story are deliberately left out, it doesn’t just change the narrative—it distorts the meaning entirely. That’s the heart of what I’m exploring.
Popcorn & Lore isn’t here to tell anyone what to think.
It’s here to examine, to challenge, and to ask the uncomfortable questions—the kind that open up new paths of thought instead of closing them off. If something we thought we knew starts to shift under the weight of a different perspective… well, that’s where the real thinking begins.
Also: your case for middle age is compelling. I’ll take that wisdom boost any day.
Thanks again for reading and for sharing your insight—it genuinely adds depth to the conversation.
Keep up the good work!
The future is safe in the hands of women like you - I pass the torch. My place is now to support, promote, and applaud (I'm actually not that old that I have stepped out of life; middle age only feels like death because of the way society sees middle-aged women).
Thank you so much, Emma. That really means a lot. I’m so glad to have you here in Popcorn & Lore!🍿❤️
Great for business, definitely. Priests are the mystic in-between the divine and the peasant and king. I nice gig and fuck they kept it for over 2k years.
Also, the church spent centuries exterminating gnostic sects. The Cathars, never could exterminate the Basque.
Earth is hell, you are your own god, and Mary a gnostic a keeper of that knowledge.
I find it funny how the word Agnostic has come to mean "without religion" but really means "without knowledge".
Exactly. The business model was divine—literally. And yes, the Cathars, the Gnostics… history keeps trying to delete what it can’t control. Mary just slipped through the cracks with her jar of uncomfortable truths.
I'm glad she did. I think just the fact she's so suppressed makes her more powerful than the church ever would have guessed.
Exactly! Funny how erasure can backfire.
Excellent article!
So glad you enjoyed it! Happy to hear Popcorn & Lore delivered!🍿
Gnostic pseudopigraphal "gospel" written centuries after Mary lived. It wasn't hidden or censored, it was never even in the running for part of the Canon and never taken seriously to begin with. None of the Gnostic texts ever were.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Jean Marie—I really appreciate the engagement. You’re right that texts like the Gospel of Mary and others associated with Gnostic traditions were written later than the canonical Gospels, often in the second century. But that in itself isn’t unusual—many foundational Christian writings emerged over time, and the process of defining orthodoxy was long, messy, and deeply human.
What interests me—and what Popcorn & Lore is here to explore—isn’t whether these texts should have been canonized. It’s that they existed at all. They were read, copied, discussed, and cherished by real communities of believers who saw spiritual value in them. Their survival—despite condemnation, suppression, and in some cases, being buried for centuries (like at Nag Hammadi)—suggests they carried enough meaning to be preserved at great risk.
The canon we know today wasn’t handed down ready-made. It was shaped through councils, politics, theological disputes, and yes, editorial choices. The Protoevangelium of James is a great example: also non-canonical, written later, yet it deeply shaped Christian tradition—especially our view of Mary the Mother of Jesus. The line between “accepted” and “discarded” was often influenced by factors beyond spiritual truth—power, unity, control.
And to be clear: I don’t claim these excluded texts are more “true.” What I’m doing is asking what their existence, and their exclusion, says about the human systems that curated our shared spiritual history. I think there’s value in sitting with that—not to undermine faith, but to understand the way stories shape power, and vice versa.
So no, I’m not rewriting belief. I’m just following the silences. And sometimes, what was left out speaks just as loudly as what stayed in.
When people discuss the gnostic gospels, it doesn’t seem like they really mean us to take them seriously. For example, you mention how the Gospel of Thomas treats Mary Magdalene as an advanced spiritual being, but it also says silly things; (114) Simon Peter said to them : "Let Mary leave us, for women are not worthy of life." Jesus said : "Look, I will guide her in order to make her male, so that she too may become a living spirit like You males. For every female who will make herself male will enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
Thanks, Neil—I really appreciate you bringing that particular line up. Saying 114 from the Gospel of Thomas is definitely one of the more unsettling ones, and I completely understand why it throws people off. It’s been interpreted in a dozen different ways, and honestly, I think the confusion around it is part of what makes it worth looking at.
I’m not holding it up as something to believe in—just as a window into how some early communities framed spiritual transformation, often in symbolic or mystic terms that don’t always land cleanly today. Gnostic texts tend to be dense, layered, and sometimes contradictory—and that’s part of what makes them interesting to unpack.
That said, Popcorn & Lore isn’t here to promote doctrine or reinterpret faith. It’s a space for exploring stories—all kinds of stories—myths, folklore, erased narratives, banned ideas, social structures, and the human dynamics behind them. This post happened to sit in a theological space, but the next one might be completely different.
And to answer to your justified thought, I don’t claim these writings are “right.” I just think the ones we bury say as much about us as the ones we preserve.
Appreciate your engagement—it adds a lot to the conversation.