A Rose by Any Other Name: J, Jesus, Jeshua, Yeshua?

Are the names truly all the same? Yes and no.

Gary Renard's teachers tell him in The Disappearance of the Universe, to use the name J instead of Jesus, in order to avoid confusion with the Jesus of Christianity, both in the positive sense of Christians who see Jesus in the Pauline mold, or for Jewish people who may have negative associations with that name. All of that makes sense, and Gary's usage of J certainly works for his books. Notice also that in Pursah's version of the Thomas gospel, she uses "J said"  instead of "Jesus said." It gets downright funny when he speaks of the "J Underground" as a name for the movement that is not a movement, but simply a practical collective term for those who are learning the thought system of the Holy Spirit as the Course expresses it. Reviewing and teaching those concepts in the terms of day to day living is the essence of Gary's books. 

Jesus is the latinized version of the Hebrew name Yeshua, or Yoshua, meaning God Helps, God Saves, etc. so it is a very symbolic name, as indeed many names from that tradition were. That meaning is also in line with the notion of Jesus as the manifestation of the Holy Spirit, as he presents himself in the Course, as follows:

Jesus is the manifestation of the Holy Spirit, Whom he called down upon the earth after he ascended into Heaven, or became completely identified with the Christ, the Son of God as He created Him. The Holy Spirit, being a creation of the one Creator, creating with Him and in His likeness or spirit, is eternal and has never changed. He was "called down upon the earth" in the sense that it was now possible to accept Him and to hear His Voice. His is the Voice for God, and has therefore taken form. This form is not His reality, which God alone knows along with Christ, His real Son, Who is part of Him. (ACIM:C-6.1)

and here, speaking in the first person:

I am the manifestation of the Holy Spirit, and when you see me it will be because you have invited Him. For He will send you His witnesses if you will but look upon them. Remember always that you see what you seek, for what you seek you will find. The ego finds what it seeks, and only that. It does not find love, for that is not what it is seeking. Yet seeking and finding are the same, and if you seek for two goals you will find them, but you will recognize neither. You will think they are the same because you want both of them. The mind always strives for integration, and if it is split and wants to keep the split, it will still believe it has one goal by making it seem to be one. (ACIM:T-12.VII.6)

One of my favorite ways of expressing this whole idea comes from Ken Wapnick, who says it as follows: "Jesus is a What, who looks like a who, as long as you think you're a who." By this time we the clearly have a concept of Jesus that is more "docetic,"  as it has been called in Christian theology, to describe a concept in the early literature which was dismissed by the church, which clearly implied that Jesus could appear differently to different people, as reported in the Acts of John, and an experience which Helen Schucman, the scribe of the Course, also had when she once dreamed and encountered a male figure who to her feeling clearly was Jesus, but who looked like Bill (Thetford), her boss at work, and her collaborator with the recording of the Course. When she queried Jesus on the issue of how come he " looked like Bill," the answer she got was: "Who else would I look like?"  as reported in Ken Wapnick's Absence from Felicity.

While I think that all of these considerations are valid, some people will have more of a problem with Jesus than others, and I've certainly had my share of them. At the moment my preferences would probably be J or Yeshua, or Jeshua, but Jesus is OK too. Studying the Course simply forces you to come to grips with the fact that he presents himself differently there then what you may be used to from Christianity, but clearly he's not to hung up on what you call him either, maintaining only that he can help us more if we do believe in him.

So in the end, it boils down to suit yourself, whatever name makes you most comfortable, it could even be Buddha, or Quan Yin, Krishna, or anything else that represents that symbol of total and unconditional love to you.

The Better Angels of our Nature

Surely those words are a very lovely way to refer to the Voice of Reason within. Abraham Lincoln said that, in fact he appealed to this notion in his inaugural speech in 1861, hoping to appeal to the things that united people, instead of dividing them, and I want to quote those lines here in full:

We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battle-field, and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature. (Abraham Lincoln, First Inaugural Address, March 4th, 1861)

Evidently, his appeal to higher reason did not bear fruit, but his language was surely inspired and inspiring!

And so people at different times have come up with different words, for a phenomenon that most of us know, and will recognize for what it is, regardless of the name we give it. Names in the Course such as the Voice for God, or Jesus, Holy Spirit, Reason, all are ways to highlight that unspeakable clarity of total absence of any ambiguity, which characterizes the endless rattle of the ego. What it is not is the "speaking in tongues" as it is commonly understood. It is a fully conscious inner clarity which can at times have the dimensions of a voice, but at many times it can be more subtle, as in hearing a thought, more so than hearing a voice, or it can jump out at us from other sources which seem to be within earshot or line of sight quite accidentally. But we know it by the crystalline clarity that sets it off from the humdrum muddle of the ego's traffic in presumed thought.

We often forget we have these experiences, and deny that we have them, just like Helen Schucman complained at times that nothing ever happened in her life (see Ken Wapnick's Absence from Felicity).

The Course puts it all in the framework of Jesus, because it is a great children's tale, and it is comfortable within the cultural framework we live in. As a very young child (circa age 4), I was introduced to him by one Miss Hofmans, who without any doubt channeled him. Much like the Course sees Jesus as the Manifestation of the Holy Spirit, so she would mostly speak of God's Help, with the clarification that he was not like Santa Claus, bringing me what I want, but that the deal with him was to let the Help take whatever form was best for me. Later there were others who helped me in various ways in my relationship with him, which was always an attraction, but never easy. 

In my early twenties I went through a period of intense study, and became fascinated by everything I thought could help me sorting Jesus out from the theological mess that surrounded him. Since at that time I was reading fluent in both Hebrew and Greek, I thought at times that perhaps I should also learn Coptic (for the Thomas Gospel), or Aramaic, because of the many Aramaicisms in New Testament Greek. Somehow I had a growing sense of absurdity about the whole endeavor, and there came a time when I was totally crystal clear that Jesus was perfectly well able to communicate with me in language I could understand right now, and I'm quite clear in retrospect that it was that inspiration which ultimately would lead me to A Course In Miracles, which is in plain English, and one hell of a lot easier than Greek, Aramaic, and Coptic, and not only that, but to top it off, then came along Gary Renard, who gives the whole thing one more time but now in the vernacular, so it reads as easy as the latest thriller. It seems to be only through those sorts of experiences that we gradually learn to trust the Inner Teacher, who is present in all of us, but is just denied and repressed most of the time, as we indulge the shenanigans of our ego. The Thomas gospel, the subject of this site, certainly is one wonderful way of rejoining the original freshness of that voice, and knowing ourselves spoken to directly by him, as if we were there.

On lower Broadway in NYC,opposite #100, there is an inscription in the sidewalk close to Trinity church, commemorating a visit of Queen Juliana of the Netherlands, in 1952, as there are of many other dignitaries who visited New York. Juliana's visit at the time was a beacon of hope to some, but not fondly remembered by others, including her friend Eleanor Roosevelt, not to mention her own husband Prins Bernhard, who entertained different sympathies than she did. She was a deeply spiritual person, who also knew the same Miss Hofmans who I referred to above, and turned to her for advice frequently, to the increasing dismay of Prins Bernhard. At this particular time Juliana was increasingly concerned that the emergence of the cold war, promoted through the Nato alliance, was not a sure preventative of World War III, but rather a disastrous polarization, that might practically ensure the arrival of a Third World War. Some people guessed that her sympathies lay with a movement called the Third Way, which sought an alternative to defuse the building crisis. But it was too much a political movement to suit the Queen. Also, the Third Way may not have been a practical solution. Politically there was a fear that time that it might appear that the Queen went too far in some of her speeches, in effect front-running the political process, which was a no no, considering her position as a constitutional monarch. Clearly the Queen's focus was on the spiritual need for inner peace as a basis of any efforts towards peace in the world. Today. we can look back on the insanity of the Cold War years, including the disastrous attack plans of General Curtis LeMay, as well as the narrow escapes we had, such as the incident with Lt. Colonel Stanislav Yevgrafovich Petrov, the Soviet airforce officer who narrowly avoided nuclear holocaust, in a long string of close calls during that period.


Clearly Juliana's inspiration was to try to find a way out of conflict, and she was quite far-sighted in her concerns, different from her husband, who was illegally on the take from Lockheed at various times, and did not care for her position at all. The Queen framed the issue primarily as a spiritual one. There was at the time even a political movement called the Third Way that sought an alternative to the cold war polarization of the world, but may have been naïve to the same extent Lincoln was proven by events to have been naïve, if you will, by appealing to those 'better angels.' But Julianas approach was more a spiritual one, emphasizing inner peace, and the failure of any real world peace does not mean that the attempt, the consideration, was not an extremely valuable one, and one that reflected an inner choice, and a willingness to look for a way out of conflict. Lincoln got a civil war, and Juliana found herself spurned in her spiritual interests by her friend Eleanor Roosevelt, as well as back home, because she was ahead of the political process, which technically she could not and should not be. Eventually the whole thing erupted in a palace crisis in 1956, in which her connection to Ms. Hofmans was ridiculously played up as the source of the problems, allowing a face saving way out for Bernhard and the Dutch political system, at the expense of the integrity and credibility of Juliana. So Lincoln got himself a civil war, Juliana got herself a palace crisis, but some 15 years later Helen Schucman and Bill Thetford were also looking for a way out of conflict, "There must be another way," pursuant to which Helen found the inner voice of A Course In Miracles, and gave the world a realistic way out of the ego's perpetual war, which has never given us perpetual peace, because indeed it is a way to preserve war, conflict, murder, and sin, symbolized in the world's unending fratricide. (The story of Helen and Bill can be found in her biography, Absence from Felicity, and Gore Vidal brilliantly exposed the fallacy of Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace in his book of that name). We might also note here that for Gary Renard, his inspiration for his spiritual experiences which led him to A Course In Miracles, and which gave the world his wonderful books, also was finding a way out of conflict in his life, as he clearly describes in the first Chapter of The Disappearance of the Universe.

J, or Yeshua, the Jesus as he presents himself in the Course, in a way then demonstrated that what matters is only the little willingness to make that other choice, to know that the conflict of the world is not our home, and to point the way out. In following him we learn to "Teach only love" (ACIM:T-6.III.2:4), by in effect leaving the world to stew in its own juices, and to learn that destruction in form is not what matters, but our presence in spirit is. That is what he gave us and gives us, and those who listen will know and understand that the crucifixion was meaningless, for He (The Holy Spirit) cannot be destroyed, as His manifestation is not who he is, just like peace on earth can never be as long as we keep investing in conflict, and J's teachings are the way out.

Jean-Yves Leloup translates the Gospel of Thomas

This book is a gem, and the introduction by Jacob Needleman makes it even more so. Originally published in 1986 in French by Éditions Albin-Michel, it appeared in English in 2005 at Inner Traditions.  The opening paragraph of Jacob Needleman's introduction is a classic, and a wonderful characterization of the Thomas Gospel, but then the rest of it skids on the Gnostic banana peel, first developed by Bishop Irenaeus, and while Needleman seeks to refute the good Bishop, he falls into the trap of characterizing the Thomas Gospel as Gnostic because the Nag Hammadi Library as a whole has that characteristic. However, the mere fact that the Gnostics liked the Jesus of Thomas, does not make him a Gnostic. Even certain turns of phrase which are Gnostic with the benefit of hindsight, can not be Gnostic avant la lettre. But again, Gnosticism, written here with a lowercase "g" in this treatment is not seen as a negative per se, the way Irenaeus characterized it. But by applying the moniker to a book retroactively does not do the clear interpretation of that book any favors. Aside from this issue, Needleman's introduction does contain other gems which make it worth reading. The subsequent introduction by Jean-Yves Leloup is succinct and to the point, and leads up to first a reprint of the Coptic text of Thomas with an integral translation on the facing pages. After that, Leloup provides the sayings a second time with commentaries, which are meant to stimulate our own process in exploring these sayings. Not to put to fine a point to it, but if the "Seek and ye shall find" of Thomas, clearly seen to be a reference to seeking within, makes Jesus a gnostic in this expanded usage of the term, then so is Socrates, at which point the term loses its usefulness from the standpoint of the history of religions to discuss the religious phenomena of Christian Gnosis which flowered in the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD, and which represented a confluence of much more than just the Thomas sayings. The Gnostic tradition definitely did include some teachers who seem to closely reflect the intent of the Jesus of Thomas, such as Valentinus, who in light of his overal presentation justifiably can and should be characterised as a Gnostic teacher. Or, in yet another way of looking at this, if truth is true - which is a very logical position to take and a central tenet of A Course In Miracles - it can not also be not true, though the mind is capable of denying it, but by its very nature, if we subsequently give up the denial, of necessity we return to truth again, which by this same definition can not ever be lost. Therefore truth is within, except we can deny it as long as we want, but if we do the work with Socrates, or with Jesus -- the forgiveness process asks us that we look with Jesus at the ego's obfuscations and let the light of reason shine on them -- then we cannot fail but to return to truth. In other words, the outcome, in the words of the Course is indeed as certain as God. (ACIM:T-2.III.3:10) The more proper way of looking at this, as the Course would suggest, is that we are within truth, suffering from a delusion, but if it wears off, nothing but truth can be left. So then a useful way to define "gnostic" with a lower case "g" as these authors do, we might say: "He who believes that truth is within, and only needs to be uncovered, and cannot be seen outside, unless and until it is understood within." The introduction by Jean-Yves Leloup is brilliant, and while I evidently do disagree with the ill-defined way he and Needleman use the term gnostic in a very general, non-specific sense, he does do us the favor of defining the way he is using the term reasonably well, and in a way that in and of itself makes a lot of sense, though it could be more explicit as suggested above. He emphasizes how the Gospels canonical and otherwise should all be read side by side, and seen as different ways to hear Jesus, realizing that in this world no-one at least initially "gets" the message completely. This is the beginning of wisdom, as I've argued elsewhere, because it saves us from the arrogant know-it-all attitude of the canonical tradition which simply produced a revisionist Jesus, and proceeded to found a religion in his name, with an exclusive claim to truth, declaring any others to be wrong. However, in the process he sidesteps the likely timeline of the Thomas Gospel, and fails to note how all the theological constructs that really define Christianity as what it is today are not in Thomas, but belong to the so-called canonical tradition, and are thus later inventions. Critical/historical assessment is not Leloups forte, but an open-minded, contemplative approach to the material is. His introduction is also blissfully short, and he then lets the text do its work on us. I love the translation, it flows very well. The choice to use Yeshua in lieu of Jesus is an admirable one, because the name Jesus brings up so much unfortunate Christian baggage for people that were raised in that tradition, and let's face it, even for many who weren't, as Christianity has not always been a good brother to the non-believers in its dogma. It follows a regime of capitalization that I find pleasing (Kingdom, Father, Living One etc.) and its word choices are neutral and inobtrusive. I'm not familiar with Leloup's French version, but evidently the translator did a fine job. For the translation alone this edition merits publishing. Leloup's commentaries are not the strongest element of this book, though they are the bulk of it. I emphasize again that the first presentation of the text is in its entirety, without commentary, followed by a reprint of the individual Logia, with Leloup's commentaries is fortuitous in the sense that you can avoid the commentaries if you so desire. This is a pleasant arrangement, which invites the reader to first form their own response to the text in its pure form. I want to make just a few observations about the commentaries here.  At one point in a footnote, there is reference to Thomas being dated before the canonical Gospels (p. 63, footnote 2), but still not only the introduction, but the book as a whole suffers from the avoidance of discussing the relevance of this dating, which would serve to disentangle Jesus from Christian theology. Leloup's consideration of avoiding this scholarly argument, in order not to burden the reader, and leave us free so we can consider the text in its own right therefore does not hold up and produces the opposite effect. Likewise the development of the usage "gnosticism," broadly as a replacement for "mysticism," "esoteric tradition," or "inner tradition," or even "contemplative tradition," remains in my view fuzzy and undesirable, in that it detracts from clarity about what the Gnostic tradition is, and by implication does not serve to clarify but rather obfuscates who the Jesus might be who is speaking in these sayings. Having said that, there are numerous worthwhile elements in the commentaries, including Biblical references, as well as tidbits from many other traditions. The effect can be a bit Byzantine from time to time, but there are some gems throughout, though it remains a pearl-diving exercise. Some solid points are his repeated observations that the Jesus of Thomas offers a non-dualistic teaching. On the whole however the fuzziness that results from the avoidance of the critical historical discussion, and the unfortunate obfuscating usage of the terms gnosis, gnosticism and gnostic, merely to avoid using certain other words that might lead to misinterpretation, permeate the whole, and leave the reader with a whole patchwork of association, and stream of consciousness ideas, which simply don't add up to a focused whole. Partly of course this is also made difficult because even with the best intentions Thomas is not a nice and coherent whole, and not some spiritual masterpiece, but a somewhat haphazard collection of sayings not all of which seem to be original or free of corruption. Thus in this treatment, even the most seemingly inconsistent sections such as Logion 114 do not elicit even the suggestion of a doubt, but are taken at face value and deemed to be of one piece with the rest of the material.