Revealed Knowledge and Authority in the Traditions of Matthew, Thomas, and Judas
Peter's Confession is not merely the origin of ecclesial authority, but the beginning of a hard lesson about how divine insight can coexist with human misunderstanding—and how the Church is built on both.

Much ink has been spilled over Peter's Confession in Matthew 16:13-20. The major Christian confessions debate its interpretation concerning the extent and nature of Peter's primacy among the first apostles. Yet as a Catholic, I rarely encounter Christian discussions of the passage—whether from Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant sources—that delve deeply into its immediate context, let alone its place in the broader narrative of the Synoptic Gospels and their themes of authority.
Something fascinating I noticed when reading the non-canonical Gospel of Thomas and Gospel of Judas is that each has its own competing version of the "Who do you say that I am?" question, closely connected to primacy of authority in the ekklesia to arise after Jesus' departure. I'm fairly new to the Gospels of Thomas and Judas, but my familiarity with the Synoptic Gospels made it impossible not to notice that they were both responding to Peter's Confession in Matthew 16.
Thomas may depart from the canonical Gospels in some ways, but it does not seem to be a Gnostic work. Dr. David Brakke—a professor of early Christian history at Ohio State—considers it closer to Valentinian Christianity (lectures 9 and 10). Valentinianism, a 2nd-century Christian movement, draws from the basic Gnostic myth but regards the Old Testament God as an imperfect, not evil, demiurge—unlike Gnostic accounts that depict him as a false or malevolent impostor (e.g., Yaldabaoth).
The Gospel of Thomas likely originated around the same time as the Synoptics. It contains many familiar sayings of Jesus, as well as others entirely unfamiliar, though it was likely not finalized until the 2nd century. The Gospel of Judas, on the other hand, is unambiguously Gnostic and was written probably in the late 2nd century.
There are two threads that run through Matthew 16:13-23 (Peter's Confession), Thomas 12-13, and Judas 33-37, which designate special roles to one or two of Jesus' disciples:
- Knowledge: One of the Twelve disciples is the unique recipient of revelation of Jesus' identity, setting him apart from the others.
- Authority: One of the disciples is the divinely-designated leader among the leaders of the Church (this does not describe Judas, but there is an ironic twist on this theme instead).
Matthew, of course, gives both roles to Peter. Thomas splits these two roles for two disciples: Thomas has unique knowledge of Jesus (13), but James the righteous is the unique authority (12). Judas applies both themes to Judas Iscariot, again with an ironic twist on the second.
(John's Gospel has no direct parallel to this type-scene, but confirms Peter's primacy in its own ways, especially in the final chapter. Meanwhile, the "beloved disciple" is the one who laid his head on Jesus' heart. We will look at this later too.)
The Gospel of Matthew
For the Synoptic account of Peter's Confession, we will focus on Matthew who gives by far the most detailed version.
Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do people say that I am" (Mark 8) or "Who do the crowds say that I am?" (Luke 9) or "Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" (Matthew 16). So they answer that many people have many different answers to that. Some think he is John the Baptist, others say Elijah, and others say one of the prophets of old returned.
They think he is a return to the old glory of Israel—which has been dominated by other empires since the Babylonian exile—the prophets of old returned to restore the kingdom. (Remember that John the Baptist himself was understood to be Elijah returned, and the last of the old prophets, sent to prepare the way for the Messiah, someone who does something truly *new*.)
That's what the crowds think. So Jesus asks, "But who do you say that I am?"
Peter alone steps forward, representing the others, as he often does. He answers, "You are the Messiah" (Mark) or "The Messiah of God" (Luke). In Matthew's fuller version, Peter says, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God" (Matthew 16).
Only in Matthew does Peter give these two titles to Jesus (Messiah and Son of God). And only Matthew gives the disciple both his names, "Simon Peter," since only Matthew's parallel includes Jesus giving him his new name.
"You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God," Simon Peter says. What follows is entirely unique to Matthew. Jesus first blesses him by his family name: "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah!" because his knowledge came not from "flesh and blood" but from "my heavenly Father" (16:17). Then, like several heroes of the Old Testament, this disciple receives a new, divinely appointed name: "You are Peter," the rock upon which Jesus "will build my ekklesian", against which the "gates of Hades will not prevail" (16:18). Peter is given "the keys to the kingdom of heaven," with the power to "bind" and to "loose" (16:19). Finally, the scene resumes as it does in Mark and Luke, with Jesus warning the disciples to tell no one what they just learned (16:20).
Next, Jesus predicts, for the first time, his rejection by the temple authorities, his death, and resurrection. Hearing this, Peter rebukes Jesus (16:21-22). He learned that Jesus is the Messiah, but he doesn't yet know what it means to be the Messiah. How could the authorities the Lord entrusts to administer his temple, to enforce his Law, condemn the Messiah to death? What kind of a Jew, what son of Abraham, embraces a teacher so radically opposed to them as to be condemned to death by him? "Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree." Maybe the temple authorities are corrupt, but aren't the Romans the real enemies? And whoever the enemy is, how can the Messiah be so defenseless? God would never allow such a thing, Simon Peter the Rock thinks.
Jesus replies, "Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me" or "a stumbling-stone (skandalon) to me" (Mt 16:23). A moment ago Jesus had said "flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father" (16:17), and now, so soon, Peter is "thinking not as God does, but as human beings do" (16:23).
Simon Peter's new authority goes to his head and he tries to exercise authority over Jesus himself. When Jesus predicted his Passion, "Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, 'God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you" (16:22). Perhaps Jesus sounded lacking in faith, succumbing to defeat.
In an ironic reversal, Peter "took Jesus aside"—a gesture typically reserved for Jesus when revealing privileged teachings to the inner circle (Mt 17:1; 20:17; 26:37; Mk 9:37; 10:32; Lk 9:10). And he presumes to "rebuke" his own teacher—something Jesus does when exercising his authority over nature (Mt 8:26) and unclean spirits (Mt 17:18; Mk 1:25).
This exchange with Peter opens Jesus' first discourse on the cross and discipleship. Leading up to his arrival in Jerusalem, the focus of Jesus' lessons to his disciples becomes the world-defying nature of leadership in a community built on the way of life Jesus is setting down for them. And they appear to misunderstand it every single time, or the lesson is itself a response to their blindness.
We learn in the teachings that follow Peter's Confession that, in Jesus' family, authority doesn't lord itself over its subjects, but lays down its life for them, especially the weakest of them, the "little ones who believe in me" (Mt 18:6) to whom "belongs the kingdom of God" (19:14). In Jesus' ekklesia authorities are the servants of their subjects, having no desire for status or preeminence. Not only Peter, but the other disciples—some named explicitly, like the sons of Zebedee—repeatedly misunderstand Jesus’ way and view discipleship as a competition for status (Mt 18:1; Mk 9:33-34) and judge whether others are worthy to share their fellowship with him (Mt 19:13-15; Mk 9:38-41; 10:13-16). Jesus teaches them that "whoever receives one such child in my name receives me" (18:4), but instead "the disciples rebuked them" (19:13)!
In the Synoptic tradition, not one of the Twelve follows Jesus to the cross; only a group of women remain. The men scatter in fear. Peter speaks for them indeed!
Peter said to him, "Even though I should have to die with you, I will not deny you." And all the disciples spoke likewise. (Mt 26:35)
Seeing his teacher arrested, and no army of angels sent to vindicate him (26:53), Peter will succumb to the pressure of the crowd, denying any association with Jesus. Three times they question him until he curses, swearing to the crowd, "I do not know the man!" And how did Jesus' conclude that very first discourse on the cross in Mark?
Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this faithless and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels. (Mk 8:38)
At the trial, Peter doesn't see that this is the kingdom come, this was the wedding banquet. He goes out of the courtyard, into the dark, weeping and gnashing his teeth.
So, however one understands the uniqueness of Peter's authority, Peter's Confession does not give us a simple picture of how we can expect human authority to work in the Church. It gives us a kind of dialectic of opposites we have to wrestle with and pray over. Peter is both the Rock, Holder of the Keys of the Kingdom; and Peter is Satan, Obstacle in the Way of the Cross. For better or for worse, Peter binds and looses.
The Gospel of Thomas
Let’s now look at Thomas. Whereas Matthew 16 presents Simon Peter (however qualified) as both the knower of Jesus’ identity and (therefore) the holder of unique authority in Jesus’ Church, the Gospel of Thomas 12-13 has the special knower (Thomas) and the primary authority (James the Just) as two different people. It will be worth quoting these two verses here in full:
(12.) The disciples said to Jesus, "We know that you will depart from us. Who is to be our leader?"
Jesus said to them, "Wherever you are, you are to go to James the righteous, for whose sake heaven and earth came into being."
(13.) Jesus said to his disciples, "Compare me to someone and tell me whom I am like."
Simon Peter said to him, "You are like a righteous angel.”
Matthew said to him, "You are like a wise philosopher."
Thomas said to him, "Master, my mouth is wholly incapable of saying whom you are like."
Jesus said, "I am not your master. Because you have drunk, you have become intoxicated from the bubbling spring which I have measured out."
And he took him and withdrew and told him three things. When Thomas returned to his companions, they asked him, "What did Jesus say to you?"
Thomas said to them, "If I tell you one of the things which he told me, you will pick up stones and throw them at me; a fire will come out of the stones and burn you up."
If there is any question whether Matthew 16 means to designate Peter with unique authority in the first generation of the Christian Church, Thomas 12 seems perfectly straightforward. A community will form around the teachings of Jesus handed down to the apostles, and they directly ask their teacher who will lead in his place after he ascends to the Father. The description of James is far more exalted than anything said of any disciple of Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels—"for whose sake heaven and earth came into being"—yet it is the one and only time James is mentioned in the Gospel of Thomas.
James the Righteous is not one of the Twelve, but the one called the "brother of Jesus," whether that means a blood brother or a cousin (I think the latter) or someone reputed to be very close to Jesus (Mk 3:35). This James appears in the Acts of the Apostles, most especially in chapter 15, as one of the most prominent authorities in the nascent Christian Church of Jerusalem, perhaps second to Peter, or maybe even taking preeminence in some cases.
In Acts we don't see any sign of discord between Peter and James, but Paul mentions a conflict between them in his letter to the Galatians. Usually in any list of the apostles in the New Testament, Peter is listed first, but Paul lists James first when he mentions them together. Paul tells how, when Peter would visit Antioch, he would eat with the Gentiles. But because the party of James was still avoiding table fellowship with Gentiles, Peter would eat apart from the Gentiles when James also came to visit. When Paul saw this hypocrisy, he writes, “I opposed him to his face” (Gal 2:11). And we see other signs of division in the New Testament over association with preferred Christian authorities, even among those who ultimately worked toward the same mission (e.g. 1 Cor 1-3).
Thomas 13 next begins the same way Peter’s Confession begins in the Synoptic Gospels, with Jesus questioning his disciples about who he is. The first, inadequate answers this time come from the disciples themselves, and it cannot be a coincidence that those two disciples are Simon Peter and Matthew, relegated to just another of Jesus' half-seeing disciples.
Next, Thomas steps up and answers better than the others in Socrates-like fashion, by admitting his inability to answer, and so proves himself uniquely receptive of Jesus’ teachings. “Teacher, my mouth is wholly incapable of saying who you are like.”
I’ll leave aside Jesus’ enigmatic answer to Thomas ("I am not your teacher," etc.), since my interpretation would probably be half-baked. But it seems to me related to the idea that Jesus' hearers—even his innermost disciples—"will indeed hear but not understand, will indeed see but not perceive" (Mt 13:14f).
Next, the section says Jesus "took him and withdrew" from the others "and told him three things." The disciples ask Thomas about this and he replies, "If I tell you one of the things which he told me, you will pick up stones and throw them at me; a fire will come out of the stones and burn you up." The scene ends here.
Thomas is not a narrative Gospel like the canonical Gospels; it is a "sayings Gospel." It doesn't even contain mention of Jesus' Passion and Resurrection (just a single reference to taking up your cross, 55). Yet scenes like Thomas 13 are mini-narratives; and considering Thomas 12-13 clearly interacts with Matthew 16 (and its parallels in Mark 8 and Luke 9), I wouldn't doubt that the author has a Jesus story in mind.
Might, then, the "three things" which Thomas is afraid to tell the others be related to the scandal of Jesus' Passion? The triple "Passion, Death, and Resurrection" does seems warranted by that very first prediction in Matthew:
"From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and [1.] suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and [2.] be killed and [3.] on the third day be raised."
Yet the Passion, Death, and Resurrection are not the Paschal Mystery without including the scandal of it felt by those closest to Jesus, so the number three appears always in connection to this scandal. Here's a list:
Between Peter's Confession and Jesus' arrival in Jerusalem, Jesus predicts his Passion three times, and the disciples fail to understand. Three special disciples are taken apart to witness the transfiguration on the mountain and the agony in the garden. On the mountain, Peter, not knowing what he is saying, suggests making three booths, apparently wanting to preserve the proof of Jesus' glory which would vindicate him. In the garden, seeing his weakness, the three disciples fall asleep three times. At Jesus' trial, Peter is questioned and denies knowing Jesus three times. Jesus' spends three hours on the cross, and when he dies, "a three hour darkness" comes over the land. He spends three days in the tomb.
Virtually *all* of these instances of three are shared by all three Synoptic Gospels; they are essential telling. And in John, Peter is rehabilitated by being asked three times, "do you love me?"
(Even St. Igantius of Antioch, writing to the Ephesians in the early 2nd century, tells of “three mysteries of renown, which were wrought in silence by God” and were “hidden from the prince of this world,” which are “the virginity of Mary”, “her offspring”, and “the death of the Lord”.)
So I think the three things Thomas fears to share is the same thing Jesus predicts openly in the Synoptic Gospels following Peter’s Confession: the Pascal mystery, the cross in particular, so he keeps it to himself. If, in Matthew and Mark, Jesus’ first prediction of the coming Passion is so scandalous that even Peter takes it on himself to “rebuke” his teacher (Mt 16:22), would it be so strange for Thomas to fear violent rejection by his fellow disciples for teaching the same thing about their teacher?
Thomas 13 may be intended as a critique of the Synoptic Gospels, but they don’t seem to contradict them. The Synoptic Gospels intentionally use the failures of the disciples as the very stage for their lessons, as if giving prophetic witness to the inherent limitations and problems of human authority that will persist even in Jesus’ ekklesia. And the basis for our acceptance of the four canonical Gospels has always been their claim to derive from the apostles’ own witness. The self-criticism of the founding leaders of the Church is at the foundation of the Church.
The disciple learn *that* Jesus is the Messiah, not realizing they don’t know what that means. Jesus’ first prediction of his Passion was remembered as a moment when the disciples became scandalized by their teacher, perhaps became conflicted by doubts that festered all while they strove to be his most loyal disciples. They told themselves they would persevere, that Jesus would make it all make sense and would triumph over his enemies, and they themselves would be vindicated for following this controversial rabbi. But when what he taught came true, and no army of angels came to his defense, and he was rejected by the Jewish high priest and elders, and handed over to the Romans to be executed by the humiliating death of crucifixion, they would not remain confident enough to be seen associating with him. They were ashamed of him, not knowing that this was the kingdom come.
I think this was not only scandalous because it implied that God couldn’t save his chosen, anointed prophet from death, but also that God couldn’t preserve his own temple or maintain legitimate authorities to lead the Jewish people on his behalf. These men are Jews; they believe in the authority of “the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes,” and these are going to kill their teacher? Whose side are they really on then? This must have been a distressing place to be caught between. How sure are they really about this rabbi from Nazareth?
Peter “took [Jesus] aside” to “rebuke” him for predicting his Passion. Jesus “took [Thomas] and withdrew” to tell him these “three things”.
We might wonder why Jesus’ inclusion of his resurrection in the threefold prediction didn’t make it seem rather too good or too bold to be true, rather than make Peter think, “Such a thing will never happen to you!” Well, if we take Mark’s account of the Transfiguration—the scene that follows Peter’s Confession and Jesus’ first prediction of the cross in all the Synoptic Gospels—we see Jesus mention his resurrection to his three closest disciples, Peter, James (son of Zebedee), and John. But “they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what rising from the dead meant” (Mk 9:10). This follows the almost dreamlike daze they found themselves in after being dazzled by Jesus’ glory on the mountain of transfiguration. Jesus’ words about resurrection almost seem to go in one ear and out the other; they find themselves confused, much as they fall asleep with grief (three times) when they see Jesus’ agony in the garden.
How many Christians can really say they understand Jesus’ death and resurrection? These teachings reveal even the Twelve can be among those who “will indeed hear but not understand, will indeed look but never see,” etc.
So I think these “three things” Jesus tells in Thomas 13 refer to the unbearable reality of Jesus’ real, unreserved participation in our humanity, his acceptance of the full consequences of righteousness in a fallen world (rejection and execution), and how this means his disciples must live after his pattern. Thomas becomes aware that his fellow disciples would persecute him—would make him the odd one out of the group, the blacksheep, the scapegoat—if he told them what he learned. Yet because this is precisely to behave not as Jesus, but as Jesus’ persecutors, their persecution of Thomas would come down on their own heads. “If I tell you one of the things which he told me, you will pick up stones and throw them at me; a fire will come out of the stones and burn you up.”
Thomas 13 looks to me like a hypothetical scenario: “What if one of the disciples didn’t fail to understand Jesus the way they all did? Whoever that disciple was, he would have rather had the wisdom to say, ‘I do not know what you are like; I cannot compare you to anything,’ and that disciple would have prepared himself docile to be taught by Jesus himself. He would have become misunderstood by his fellows, as is the way of the cross which he just learned.”
But I think the author is not offering a hypothetical about Thomas; he claims Thomas is that disciple. Nevertheless, being misunderstood and isolated from others for knowing too much—especially knowing too much about the love of God—tends to put one’s status as an authority at risk. The author seems to acknowledge an ecclesial authority, James, who, though knowing less deeply than Thomas, has the gift and the divine appointment for that role.
The Gospel of John
The Gospel of Thomas' split between one disciple invested with special knowledge and another with special authority strikes me as similar to the Johannine tradition's claim that John son of Zebedee or "the beloved disciple" is the one with incomparable knowledge, while giving due acknowledgment of Peter's unique ecclesial authority. The beloved disciple is the one who "was leaning on Jesus' bosom," his ear to his heart (Jn 13:23, as Jesus is "in the bosom of the Father" and "has revealed him," 1:18).
In John, Peter does live up to his name and represents the Twelve when many other disciples are scandalized by Jesus’ Bread of Life discourse (6:66-71). But when the cross comes in view—the master washing his disciples’ feet—Peter’s failure to really understand Jesus and discipleship begins to appear.
“Peter said to him, ‘You will never wash my feet.’ Jesus answered him, ‘Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.’” (13:8).
After this, the disciples learn that “one of you will betray me” and “The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant” (13:21-22). Peter looks to the beloved disciple “to find out whom he meant,” because that disciple “was reclining at Jesus’ side” (Jn 13:23-24). Next, when Judas leaves, Jesus gives his “new commandment: love one another,” and then predicts Peter’s thrice denial (13:30-38).
Because this “beloved disciple” understands Jesus, he understands the way of the cross, so he does not fear to associate with the condemned Jesus. He is the sole exception to the total abandonment by his male disciples; he follows Jesus to the cross, standing with the Blessed Mother (18:25-27).
In John’s post-resurrection account, Mary Magdalene witnesses the empty tomb first (what a topic she should be of her own!). She announces this “to Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved” (20:2). The beloved disciple runs, arriving at the tomb first, but out of respect he waits for Peter to arrive and enter it first. 20:30-31 appears to be the original conclusion to John’s Gospel, until later it appeared necessary to add chapter 21, to once again affirm Peter’s unique authority, while also affirming the beloved disciple’s superior insight. At Jesus’ command, Peter catches more fish than he knows what to do with, not knowing it was Jesus until the beloved disciple points that out to him (21:6-7).
Jesus rehabilitates Peter who denied him three times (18:15-27), asking three times, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” (21:15-17). Jesus still wants him to “Feed/tend my lambs/sheep,” he says three times. Peter loves Jesus, not perfectly, but he is still committed to the end. Peter may not be the best at understanding his teacher or the way of the disciple–the cross–but Jesus promises that he will understand; he will follow him to a martyr’s death (21:18-19).
When Peter then questions, “Lord, what about this man?” (referring to the beloved disciple), Jesus replies, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? Follow me!” (21:20-22). We’ll leave aside the question about an early Christian expectation that John/the beloved disciple would remain alive until Jesus’ second coming (and his death being another occasion for the addition of John 21); the point here is that Peter is both given primacy of authority among the disciples and recognizes that there are disciples closer to Jesus than he is. This, for real this time, is where John’s Gospel ends.
So, if we bring together the Synoptic account of Peter’s partial knowledge, partial blindness, and unique authority with John’s account of Peter’s unique authority alongside John superior knowledge, a similar distinction appear present in the Gospel of Thomas 12-13. The author wants to be on good terms with James the righteous’ acknowledged authority, but Thomas the Twin knows Jesus more intimately. Thomas knows that knowing Jesus does not mean being able to say the right things about Jesus, but it means embracing the unspeakable mystery of the cross. I think one of Thomas’ stranger sayings—whose language doesn’t sound much like Jesus—has to do with this embracing the fact that life is full of apparently opposite realities that are hard to reconcile: “When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside,” etc., “then you will enter the kingdom” (22).
But again, what I find more interesting and subtle about the Synoptic account as it is, is how Peter is repeatedly undermined. I appreciate the Gospel of Thomas for portraying an ideal disciple wise enough to regard Jesus as beyond all description, but nowhere does it criticize its heroes. "[For James the righteous’] sake heaven and earth came into being," it says (12). Wow!
The Gospel of Judas
So what about the Gospel of Judas? If the Gospel of Thomas is closer to Valentinian Christianity, the Gospel of Judas is unambiguously Gnostic. Judas' parallel to Peter's Confession is right in the opening scene of the text as we have it preserved today.
Whatever one thinks of these Gnostic Gospels, it is fascinating that the probably late-2nd century author of Judas—for all its obvious anachronisms and foreign ideas put into the mouth of an early 1st century Galilean rabbi—noticed the complexity and centrality of the themes I’ve been discussing here in order to continue to engage with them and subvert them.
Here, Judas—not Peter, not Thomas—is the disciple with singular insight, and gives his own “confession” of who Jesus is. But this scene takes place at the Last Supper, after which Judas betrays Jesus into the hands of the authorities. All of the other disciples are doing anachronistic things like already calling Jesus "the Son of our God" and "praying over the bread" on their own. Jesus laughs at them for these "practices of piety," apparently criticizing orthodox Christians who identify Jesus with the God of the Old Testament and who celebrate the Eucharist. In the midst of this ritual, Jesus says that they don’t know what they’re doing, worshiping "your God."
Jesus denies that his disciples know him, which makes them "angry and furious" and they "started to curse him in their hearts." The scandal is already appearing; think again of Peter's "rebuke" over Jesus’ prediction of his Passion in the Synoptic account; and of Thomas’ fear that his fellow disciples would "pick up stones and throw them at me" if they knew what he learned from Jesus.
Jesus asks, "Let any of you who is strong enough among human beings to bring out the perfect human stand before my face." They all say they can do it, "but their spirits did not dare to stand before him, except for Judas Iscariot…but he could not look him in the eyes…" The scene is full of the ambivalence and blindness arising from partial knowledge and the unbearable difficulty of looking at the full reality of Jesus.
Judas begins saying, "I know who you are and where you have come from." He then 1.) says plainly where Jesus has come from: "the immortal realm of Barbelo" (a uniquely Gnostic idea), and 2.) says that he is "not worthy to utter the name of the one who has sent you."
The Synoptic Gospels have Peter tell who Jesus is; Thomas declares his inability to say who Jesus is; Judas both knows who Jesus is and declares himself unworthy to say the name of the one who sent him. Barbelo and Wisdom, in Gnostic cosmology, are the first emanations nearest the true God who is utterly unspeakable and unknowable, inaccessible. Barbelo and Wisdom, then, are the highest realms attainable to humans, which they are meant to attain through the knowledge the Jesus they profess brings. The false Old Testament god, Yaldabaoth, attempts to imitate the true, inaccessible God, and his creation is a poor imitation of Barbelo.
In like form to Thomas, Judas is taken apart from the others to learn “the mysteries of the kingdom.” I checked different translations and, frustratingly, Jesus' next words are translated by Kasser et al. and Mattison differently such that one suggests that Judas will enter the kingdom of God and the other says he won’t. I will not be an expert on the Gospel of Judas any time too soon—I’m just pointing out the comparisons with the Synoptic Gospels—so for now I will simply defer to the interpretation of Dr. David Brakke, who is a professor of early Christian history at Ohio State, specializes in Gnosticism, and did a lecture series on Gnosticism for the Great Courses.
Brakke says that Judas will not make it to the kingdom, but this is not to say he will go to hell. Rather, he will remain in this world—in the highest realm of this world, as the “thirteenth daimon/spirit”—and will be a guiding spirit to those on their way to the immortal realm.
The other eleven apostles, on the other hand, unwittingly serve the evil God Yaldabaoth (whom Jesus usually refers to as "your God"). Judas alone learns Jesus’ secret teaching, which might not bring him to the kingdom of God, but will make him "grieve much, because someone else will replace you to complete the twelve (elements / disciples) [depending on translation] before their God." "Someone else," that is, a new, twelfth apostle (which Acts 1:15-26 tells us is Matthias). The apostles' church will continue through their successors for generations, but they will invoke Jesus’ name ignorantly and in vain, or rather in the service of evils of all kinds (38-42).
So we have the expected reference to apostolic authority in the church to be established when Jesus will depart, revealed to the uniquely knowing disciple, but with the twist that that disciple will be uniquely excluded from it.
It looks like the author of Judas considers that only a very rare few—the Gnostics—are capable of benefiting from Jesus' message and mission. The vast majority of people who think they worship and live in Jesus’ name in fact serve the very false god from whom Jesus came to save his elect.
I’m sure there is much more to be said about these passages from Judas, but for now I simply want to point out the fact that this conversation is happening following Peter’s Confession in the Synoptic Gospels. We can only say so much at once. I expect there will be much else to say about the (apparently Valentinian) traditions which produced a Gospel of Mary (Magdalene). And indeed I think her role in the Synoptic Gospels deserves a great deal of attention.
Authority, Knowledge, and the Cross
I hope this article helps brings a fresh look at the Synoptic account which has perhaps become much too familiar to us for us to see its richness and depths. Peter’s Confession reveals much more than to which of the Twelve Jesus designated primacy of authority. I think Peter’s Confession is clearly an affirmation of Petrine primacy—and as a Catholic I humbly acknowledge that the extent and nature of that primacy of authority are not obvious from the text—but it is only the opening scene to an ongoing story about what that means. Peter's Confession cracks open a whole theme addressing the problem, or the ambivalence, of authority.
Some turn to the Gnostic Gospels for a more radical or subversive Christianity. Yet the Synoptics already contain a message just as unsettling: authority, when grounded in love, must embrace its own fragility. I think there's a deeper wisdom that embraces the manifest problem of authority along with the manifest necessity of authority in human communities. The discipleship section in Mark (8:27-10:45), which Peter's Confession opens, concludes with these climactic words of Jesus:
"You know that those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all. For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many." Mark 10:42-45
And in the First Letter of Peter we see much reflection on this passage, as well as Jesus’ rehabilitation of Peter in John 21:
"So I exhort the presbyters among you, as a fellow presbyter and witness to the sufferings of Christ and one who has a share in the glory to be revealed. Tend the flock of God in your midst, overseeing not by constraint but willingly, as God would have it, not for shameful profit but eagerly. Do not lord it over those assigned to you, but be examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd is revealed, you will receive the unfading crown of glory." 1 Peter 5:1-4