Touch Me Not!
The Soul of Mary Magdalene and the Body of Christ
By Gerald Palo
Jesus saith unto her, "Touch me not. For I have
not yet ascended to my Father."
(John 20:17, King James)
This famous saying of the risen Christ to Mary Magdalene has
provoked much discussion about the nature of his first recorded
appearance on Easter morning. The story is related in the
twentieth chapter of John. Mary, seemingly distraught and
confused, realizes at the sound of her name that her beloved
master is really alive. Her sorrow turns to uncontainable joy
and she rushes to embrace him. But then he seems to rebuke her
with the words, "Touch me not", as they are rendered in English,
me mou aptou in Greek. Commentators have puzzled over this
command. They have supposed that Mary saw Christ's resurrection
body in a kind of halfway state, somewhere between death, resur-
rection and ascension that required him to restrain her, as if it
were impious if not actually dangerous for her to touch him
(1). A commonly accepted interpretation of Christ's words to
Mary is that they are a loving but stern warning that she is not
permitted to touch him, because he has not yet ascended to his
Father. Somehow, the commentators seem to imply, an "ascension
process" must take place so that it will be all right for a
mortal human being to touch his resurrection body without occa-
sioning some unspoken dire consequences.
But what is this ascension process? It is not mentioned
anywhere else in the Bible (2). Christ could not have been
referring to his being taken up into the clouds forty days later,
for within a matter of hours others were clinging to his feet,
apparently without discouragement (Matthew 28:8-10). He ate with
the disciples on the road to Emmaus that same evening, and one
week later he commanded Thomas to touch him. And it makes no
sense that Mary would be permitted to touch him after he had
ascended, since with the Ascension forty days later he would
remove himself altogether from perception in individual bodily
form. The widely accepted interpretation of the famous words
seems to derive solely from the translation of the words them-
selves, without any other contextual support. A closer reading
of the story and a look at the original text will throw a
different light on Christ's words and also reveal much about the
psychology of those concerned and of his compassionate insight
into the condition of the souls of those to whom he revealed
himself.
Christ and the Soul of Mary Magdalene (3)
Mary, traditionally portrayed as an emotionally volatile
woman who has a deeply personal relationship to Jesus, stands
weeping, beside herself with grief at the tomb. She is one of
the few people, mostly women, who have remained by the cross
throughout his agony. She has seen him die. She has accompanied
the burial party and seen the tortured corpse laid in the grave.
Grieving and confused at the rapid course of unexpected and
horrifying events, she nevertheless has prepared spices for the
final embalming and come early in the morning to do her duty of
preparing the corpse of her teacher for burial, only to find the
tomb open and apparently desecrated, the sacred body stolen.
Imagine the horror and confusion she must have experienced. It
would be enough to break even the strongest man or woman. If one
pictures the events vividly enough in all the grim details, Mary
Magdalene emerges as an emotional but by no means helpless woman,
for when almost everyone else has either fled or become paralyzed
through confusion and fear, she determines what is needed and
takes firm action. Seeing the stone rolled away, she does not
even pause to look into the tomb but concludes that the body has
been stolen, turns and runs back to get help from Peter and John.
And so she ran and came to Simon Peter, and
the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and said
to them, "They have taken away my Lord and I
do not know where they have laid him." (John
20:2)
Their way lighted between the setting full moon and the
glimmering dawn, all three return to the tomb, the two men
running ahead and leaving her behind. They look inside and
leave. Mary arrives, once again alone at the tomb. But she
cannot tear herself away. Rather, she clings to the tomb, the
empty husk of a cocoon that no longer holds the physical remains
of her Master. Her mind is fixed on the missing corpse. Now she
stoops and looks into the tomb as the disciples had done. But
she sees something that they had not seen, the two angels.
But Mary was standing outside the tomb weep-
ing; and so, as she wept, she stooped and
looked into the tomb; and she beheld two
angels in white sitting, one at the head and
one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had
been lying. (John 20:11-12)
She is so preoccupied with the idea that the Lord's body has been
stolen that, unlike the other women (Luke 24:5), she does not
even register fear at the sight of two strange figures in the
tomb.
And they said to her, "Why are you weeping?" She
said to them, "Because they have taken away my
Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."
(John 20:13).
Her distracted, matter-of-fact answer is a mechanical repetition
of her earlier report to the two disciples. Her single minded
preoccupation with finding the body borders on distraction and
makes her oblivious to everything else.
At this moment the risen Christ appears to her. Consider
her state of mind. What would have happened had he appeared to
her in full, recognizable form at that moment, whose horrible
death she had just witnessed and whose stiff, bloodied corpse she
had perhaps handled only a short time before? It could well have
driven her insane, or at least her mind might have refused to
accept the evidence of her senses, causing her to recoil in fear
at the apparent vision of a ghost. Anyone who even in the tamest
of circumstances has seen someone who strikingly resembles a
recently deceased friend or loved one can appreciate what such a
vision might have done to her.
But Christ understands this and knows that here in the
garden, early in the morning, he must gradually awaken her
consciousness to the reality of his risen presence. A close
reading reveals how he does this step by step, lovingly caring
for the precarious state of her soul. His first appearance to
her senses is not to her sight but to her hearing, and that not
even by speaking. Following her reply to the angels one might
expect that she would have waited for their answer or perhaps
continued by asking them, "Do you know where they took him?",
But something causes her to turn away from the angels.
When she had thus said, she turned herself back,
and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was
Jesus. (John 20: 14)
What is it that causes her turn abruptly away from this remark-
able sight of the two figures in the tomb? Perhaps Jesus had
approached walking, and she heard a footfall. She turns and sees
a man standing there. It is his deliberate intention that Mary
not recognize him yet. He inquires impersonally, as any stranger
on the scene might ask of a woman sobbing hysterically, the same
question the angels had asked. This may have been a ritual
question that one traditionally asked of a mourner.
Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?
Whom are you seeking?" Supposing him to be the
gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have car-
ried him away, tell me where you have laid him and
I will take him away." (John 20:15)
Jesus's voice echoing the angels' "Why?" may have penetrated into
her soul, but her immediate condition of consciousness is not
jolted to awareness of his identity.
The Gardener
If Mary mistook Jesus for the gardener out of distraction,
he must for his part have done nothing to disabuse her. He may
even have taken extraordinary measures to giver her this impres-
sion (4). Anna Katherina Emmerich, the Austrian stigmatist and
visionary, reports an interesting detail in this regard. In her
vision of the scene Jesus carried a spade and wore a hat, leaving
very much the impression of a gardener and also somewhat conceal-
ing his face (5). Raphael's painting also shows him wearing a
hat and holding a spade. Fra Angelico and other painters show
the spade. The meaning of this symbol is profound, the sign of
the planting of the seed of Christ's body in the body of the
earth itself, with the Risen One himself tending it. Is the spade
only an artist's symbol, or did Jesus really carry one, its
repeated appearance in art perhaps deriving from an ancient
tradition passed down from Mary herself?
Mary shows that she is still interested in only one thing,
recovering the stolen corpse. Although it had not occurred to
her that the two angels in the tomb might have taken the body
("they have taken away my lord"), she does suspect the gardener
("if you have taken him away"). Does a glimmer of insight dawn
on her here, an awakening sense that it is indeed this One who
has "taken" the body? The extent of her confusion is revealed by
her totally impractical suggestion that she could physically
carry the heavy corpse back to the tomb. She seems to confront
the suspected grave robber with authority, commanding him to tell
her. There is a note of vexation in her words. According to
tradition, Mary Magdalene was a wealthy woman. She would have
been used to speaking to servants in a commanding tone of voice.
Apparently there is a pause before Jesus answers, for she turns
away from the "servant", back to the scene inside the tomb, most
likely to continue her conversation with the two angels. This
turning back is clear because when Jesus speaks the next words
she turns again towards him (20:16). He is in control of the
situation and knows exactly when and how to speak to her. Now,
in her determination to recover the body, she has to some extent
recovered control of herself and is more or less in a state of
day consciousness. The sun is perhaps risen by now. Jesus has
gradually come forward in sound, general human form, and voice.
Now he emerges from the shadows and allows it to dawn in Mary's
consciousness that it is he. In a moment, her confusion is swept
away and she awakens, without a trace of fear, to the happy
reality of his presence.
Jesus said unto her, "Mary!" She turned and said to him, in
Hebrew, "Rabboni!" (which means, Teacher). (John 20:16)
He takes care to say her name while her back is turned to him.
With the speaking of her name, Mary realizes it is indeed Jesus.
Only then does she turn and see him. He has prepared her soul
step by step for this moment of awakening. And she approaches to
embrace him.
Noli me tangere
It is at this point that the so-called warning words are
spoken.
Jesus said unto her, "Touch me not. I am not yet
ascended to my Father: but go unto my brethren
and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and
your Father, unto my God and your God." (John
20:17)
Can it be that after such careful preparation Christ would
thrust her back by forbidding her to embrace him? Neither
theologically nor psychologically does the traditional interpre-
tation of the passage make sense. Even if he had appeared in
some kind of half-resurrected condition in the garden (somehow
not yet in control of his own resurrection body) his appearance
to Mary in such a state seems totally contradictory after the
careful way in which he had revealed himself to her.
A resolution can be found by examining closely the
translation of original text. The Greek words are me mou aptou.
The famous Latin Vulgate rendering is Noli me tangere. It may
well be that traditional reading of the Vulgate gave rise to the
'Touch me not' of the AV and the "Ruehre mich nicht an!" of
Luther. The forcefulness of tone of these translations led to a
long history of attempts to fathom the meaning of the words. But
a better translation of the Greek text would be, "Do not go on
holding to me". The New American Standard Bible renders it,
"Stop clinging to me". This reading changes the meaning
entirely. Now we can see that his words were meant to comfort
her and bring her back to her senses as, embracing him and
overcome by joy, she was unable to let go.
William Barclay points to the possibility suggested by some
scholars that the original text may have read, me ptoou, "Do not
be afraid" and was miscopied (6). This reading is echoed in
Mark 16:8, Luke 24:5, and especially in Matthew 28:10, which
seems to be reporting this very incident or one similar to it.
The sense of Christ's words might then be rendered, "Do not be
afraid. It is all right, Mary. You don't have to stay here
holding on to me. I haven't gone to my Father yet, but soon I
will. I am still here with you, but only for a short time in this
form. So go and tell the disciples while there is still time."
With either reading the words are revealed, not as a stern
forbidding, but as words of comfort and assurance that are
totally in harmony with Mary's state of mind, Christ's loving
understanding of it and, most important, his mastery of the
situation. This is consistent with his next command to her. In
the darkest of hours she had proved to be a woman of steadfast
loyalty and decisive action. Now once more she needs to pull
herself together by doing something, so he tells her: "Go...,
say..." Where a moment ago she had commanded him to lead her to
the body, now he commands her to tell the disciples the news of
his resurrection. Christ has led her step by step from mourning
and despair to the realization that he lives, and now he sets her
to action.
The gradual revelation of the risen Christ
Modern critical theologians have seen it as an inconsistency
that Mary should not recognize Jesus, whom she had known well and
had seen only days before. They overlooked the fact that the
form in which she had most recently seen and touched him was that
of a mangled corpse, taken down from the cross, prepared, and
laid in a tomb. Who after the same experiences would not fail to
recognize him alive and well in the misty dawn in the garden?
Examination of the text in its total human context should have
disposed of this question at the outset. Stated in terms of the
crude materialism of critical theology, the question should have
dismissed itself, yet in a far deeper way it is a valid one. It
became for Rudolf Steiner a touchstone for the revelation of a
most important spiritual fact. Steiner, speaking from the point
of view of spiritual science, answered that the risen Christ
manifested himself gradually to Mary and the disciples, stage by
stage, at different levels of consciousness, and in different
forms than the totally integrated bodily form in which he
appeared during his incarnation (7). We have seen one dimen-
sion of this stage by stage revelation in the details of his ap-
pearance to Mary as described in the twentieth chapter of John.
Mary Magdalene and the Mystery of the Physical Body
So far we have examined the more psychological dimension of
Christ's appearance to Mary. The gospel narratives about her
point to an even deeper spiritual meaning in the words, "Touch me
not", that reaches to the very depths of the mysteries of the
physical body itself. Mathias Gruenewald's painting of the
crucifixion on the Isenheim Altar depicts the mother of Jesus and
Mary Magdalene in a parallel relationship. They both assume the
same pose, but in starkly contrasting ways. The Virgin is
dressed in a perfectly clean and pressed nun's habit, standing
somewhat away from the cross. She has fainted and is supported by
the beloved disciple, leaning back but in a standing position.
Her hands are pressed together in a prayerful gesture. Mary
Magdalene has sunk to the ground directly beneath the cross. Her
clothes are in disarray. Her long, beautiful, wavy hair cascades
down, covering her loose and unkempt, almost like a cloak. The
open display of a woman's hair would be a sign of wanton
immodesty, but here its undulating abundance reveals pulsating
life beneath her disheveled outer garments. Her hands are also
pressed together, but with fingers extended in a tortured,
twisted gesture that mirrors as much the hands of the Crucified
as those of the Virgin. The Virgin is in a swoon, her pallid
countenance almost serene, as if she were in communion with
events on a totally different plane. Magdalene's face quivers
with grief, straining not to be overcome by it, but she is awake.
While the Virgin's eyes are closed, hers are wide open. A
transparent veil covers them, perhaps to indicate the "veil of
the senses". She gazes up through it directly at the body on the
cross, the very vision of which seems to support her as the
disciple supports the Virgin. She has sunk to the ground but
holds herself up, fully experiencing the earthly scene out of her
own strength and consciousness. She is as united in soul with
grim outer appearance of Christ's physical torture as the Virgin
is removed from it. The physical appearance of each woman
reflects, as it were, the inner relationship of her soul to the
crucifixion. The Virgin is as if blind to the outward physical
manifestation, having never lost sight of his living spiritual
presence, she communes with him on a higher plane. Magdalene is
as intimately bound to the earthly sensual as the Virgin is to
the spiritual. Magdalene receives Christ's passion and death in
all its cruel intensity. She suffers alongside him, even bearing
some of the physical signs of his suffering in her own body and
countenance. Gruenewald's parallel characterization of the two
women reveals two sides of the spiritual-physical reality of the
incarnation and death of the Christ Jesus.
Caring for Jesus
The Gospels give evidence throughout of Mary Magdalene's
special relationship to the fleshly body of Jesus. With one
exception, the appearances in which she is identified by name are
those connected with the crucifixion and burial. We have Luke to
thank for the single reference that establishes her part in
Christ's ministry from its outset:
And it came about soon afterwards, that he
began going about from one city and village
to another, proclaiming and preaching the
kingdom of God, and the twelve were with him,
And certain women, which had been healed of
evil spirits and infirmities, Mary, called
Magdalene, out of whom went seven devils, and
Joanna the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward,
and Susanna, and many others who were con-
tributing to their support out of their pri-
vate means. (Luke 8:1-3)
A number of enlightening details are presented here. First,
the early association of Mary with Jesus and the disciples,
unmentioned in the other gospels, is established. These women,
of whom Mary is the first named, were intimately associated with
them from the beginning. Luke speaks of them as if they were of
equal importance to the disciples. That they were supporting the
men out of their private means corroborates the tradition that
Mary was a wealthy woman. Her association with the wife of a
high government official affords further confirmation.
Her connection with the physical body is established at the
beginning. She and the other women, high and low, must have
labored heavily to keep up with the requirements of Jesus and the
twelve. In our Sunday school imagery of how it was then we are
inclined to forget how much work, as well as money, was involved
in caring for their daily material needs. They had left their
homes and families to travel continually across the land.
Consider the requirements for provisioning and preparing meals on
the way for thirteen adults plus the women themselves. The
dishes had to be washed; the beds had to be made, today on the
road, tomorrow in a house in a village, next week in a tent. The
laundry had to be done, as well as all the other cleaning that
goes along with human life. Clothes had to be made and mended.
And none of this must be done in a haphazard or slovenly way.
Certainly they must have had flowers at mealtimes and in their
devotions, flowers that had to be gathered and arranged. And
candles and lamps, too. The meticulous requirements of the many
Jewish festivals as well as the weekly Sabbath had to be attended
to. Of course all this would have to have been moved about from
place to place, to one degree or another, and more permanent
stores of provisions and sleeping quarters must have been
maintained in several of the towns and in Bethany and Jerusalem,
places they visited frequently. Readers who have had to care for
just the vestments and paraphernalia used in the Act of Consecra-
tion of Man may appreciate the physical labor that Mary and these
women carried out day by day for three years.
Breaking Free of the Old Body
Luke says that the women had all been healed by Jesus. This
too points to the special concern with the body that occupied
Mary Magdalene throughout her association with his ministry.
This association throws light on her presence at the crucifixion
and burial and on the fact that he chose her as the first to
behold him on Easter morning. She had devoted herself to caring
for his bodily needs for three years. It was possibly her hands
that washed the blood and gore from his body before it was laid
in the tomb (8). This entire period of service of the "old
body" can be seen as a kind of schooling in preparation for
receiving the resurrection of the new body.
Mary Magdalene is often identified with the sinful woman of
the city who clung to Jesus' feet, bathed them with her tears and
dried them with her hair with, with Mary of Bethany, the sister
of Martha and Lazarus, who anointed them with oil, and also with
the woman caught in adultery. Though the gospels do not confirm
them directly, the case for these identifications is compelling
(9). It is characteristic of the gospels that they tend to omit
connecting life threads that might focus too much attention on
the biographical details of individuals and divert attention from
the central theme of the narrative. Yet all these episodes
underscore Mary's intimate connection with Jesus's physical body.
In the places where Mary Magdalene is mentioned by name, her
special connection to his body is repeatedly emphasized by her
behavior: in Galilee, at the cross, at the burial, and in the
garden Easter morning.
Whatever her own bondage to the fleshly body had been, Jesus
had begun the healing of it in the casting out of the seven
devils, and for three years she had been his pupil in the myster-
ies of it. Yet when she saw him crucified and buried, it was as
if the attachment to the "old" body arose from the depths and
reasserted itself one last time. This attachment, while it
hindered her at first from being able to behold Christ directly
in the new body, had been of critical importance, for it bound
her in continued service to him not only during the crucifixion
but throughout the three days of his burial in the earth.
Faithful unto death
Mary Magdalene's devotion to Christ's body never flagged.
While others left the scene or succumbed to sleep, she watched
him suffer, remaining by the cross until there was nothing left
but the lifeless corpse. While the scriptural evidence is not
definitive, it appears that his mother may not have been present
when the body was removed, and possibly not even at the moment of
death (see John 19:27). But Mary Magdalene remained. Surely she
must have assisted as the body was removed from the cross and
carried to the garden tomb. (May we even surmise that in the
pietas of Renaissance art it is not the fifty year-old mother of
Jesus, but the young Mary Magdalene who holds the lifeless body?)
She clung tenaciously and with unshakable devotion to the fleshly
remains whose lifelessness was a sign of the passing over the old
body to the new. She clung to the tomb, her gaze fixed intently
on it (Matt. 27:61) and continued to return to it, even after it
had become an empty shell. In the garden before the Risen One
himself she demanded that he direct her to the corpse that was no
more. When Jesus appeared to her in the new body, she again
asserted the habits bound to the old, through the longing to hold
him. The body of mortal flesh can be held and possessed, at
least to a degree and for a time, but not the body of resurrec-
tion. Holding was no longer either possible or necessary - or
rather, a new kind of holding in freedom and love was now
possible - and Jesus taught her this. "No longer do you need to
cling to me! The flesh is not where I am any more, or where you
are either in the true, redeemed nature of your being." So his
words, "Stop clinging to me", are both a comforting reassurance
to Mary of the reality of his presence and a liberating word that
accomplishes her release from bondage to the old flesh, a casting
out, as it were, of the eighth devil. By accompanying Christ to
the cross and grave Mary participated in his death, died with him
so to speak. In the garden on Easter morning he did not forsake
her but raised her up with him.
From Pupil to Teacher
Having followed Christ in the old body through death and
into the tomb, Mary emerges as the first pupil in the new school
of the mystery of the body of Christ's resurrection. She, who
knew his old body perhaps better than any other human being, was
the first to behold him in his new body. The fact that he chose
to reveal himself to her indicates that she was not merely an
emotion-bound, if devoted, follower but rather his intimate pupil
in the profoundest of his teachings, prepared and worthy to
receive the new revelation.
Taken in sequence, the sparse details of her life indicated
in the gospels may be read as pointing to a path of spiritual
schooling. First there is the healing from the "seven devils", a
step of purification. Then a long period of preparation by
apprenticeship in labor, the kind of rhythmical repetitive work
in close proximity to Christ himself which, most certainly
accompanied by instruction and contemplation, would have
profoundly deepened her understanding, her self control, and her
mastery of will (Again we must marvel at the decisiveness and
presence of mind of this "emotional" woman at the cross and
tomb). With the events of Passion week Mary would have experi-
enced first hand and with powerful inner participation and
sympathy the original events of the stages of the "Christian
initiation", as experienced by mystics since the Middle Ages. On
this "way of the cross" the pupil works out of inward meditative
experience through the steps of the Passion, from the washing of
the feet through the scourging, crowning with thorns, crucifix-
ion, burial, and resurrection. The mystic experiences all this
inwardly, but Mary also experienced it from without as material
fact. If we accept the tradition that it was she who anointed
his feet and dried them with her hair, we can follow her on her
path from the first step, the washing of the feet, even before
Jesus did this for his disciples in the upper room.
She has advanced through all the stages as a "pupil" of the
mysteries of the Passion. When the risen Christ appears to her,
she addresses him as teacher. His words, "I have not yet
ascended to my Father", are directed to her in the expectation
that she will understand them. He now speaks directly to that
awakened higher part of her being of the divine brotherly
identity revealed in the words "I ascend to my father and your
father, my God and your God". And she does understand. She has
called to him, "Teacher!", and he answers her with the first
lesson of the new school: "Cling to me no more... go... say..."
She is the first to have embraced and taken into her own body and
soul the knowledge and the healing force of the resurrection.
And now she becomes the teacher of the resurrection to disciples,
saying to them out of deepest spiritual knowing, "I have seen the
Lord!" And so she teaches all those into whom the seed of
resurrection has been sown, yet who must abide for a time in
humble service to the old body while the new body is growing
within, until the moment is right and Christ calls it forth out
of its bonds.
NOTES
-----
1. Even Emil Bock gives passing acknowledgement to this inter-
pretation. Describing the events in the garden he writes, "She
puts out her hands to embrace him. But the stern warning meets
her 'Touch me not!' ['Ruehre mich nicht an' in German] The Easter
Mystery is not yet consummated." The Three Years. Floris Books),
p. 240. L. Collot d'Herbois' painting, "Noli me tangere" depicts
a fearsome, radiant etherial being before whom the shadowy figure
of the Magdalene cowers, presumably in terror.
2. Rudolf Frieling speaks of a sevenfold, stagewise revelation of
the risen Christ as revealed in the four gospels, beginning with
the first appearance to Mary Magdalene and ending with the
Ascenscion. (See "Die Sieben Oster-Geschichten in den Evangelien"
in his Bibel Studien. 1963. Stuttgart, Verlag Urachhaus. Also
published in his collected works.) What is challenged here is
the textually unfounded concept that some interpreters invent in
order to explain why he had to say "touch me not, for I have not
yet ascended...", as one would tell a child not to touch a hot stove.
3. For the many of the ideas of this essay, especially those
concerning the psychology of the encounter in the garden, the
author is indebted to Rev. Bill White, General Secretary, Garden
Tomb (Jerusalem) Association, whose little book, A Thing Incredi-
ble?, also contains many interesting ideas concerning the day of
the crucifixion and the unfolding of events of Passion week and
Easter morning. 1976. Printed in Israel by Yanetz Ltd.
4. Emil Bock points to the deeper reality of the risen Christ as
the gardener of the "new garden". The Three Years, pp. 239-240.
5. Anne Katherina Emmerich, The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord
Jesus Christ. Page 366. (Chapter titled, "The Holy Women at the
Sepulchre"). Christian Book Club of America. Hawthorne, Califor-
nia.
6. William Barclay. The Gospel of John. Volume 2. Revised Edi-
tion. Copyright 1975. Page 271. Westminster Press, Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania.
7. For a fuller discussion of the nature of Christ's appearances
on Easter morning, see especially the cycles, The Gospel of St.
John. (Hamburg), The Gospel of St. John in Relation to the Other
Gospels. and From Jesus to Christ.
8. For a discussion of the problem whether the body was washed
before being wrapped in the grave cloths, see Frederick T.
Zugibe, The Cross and the Shroud: A Medical Inquiry into the
Crucifixion. Revised edition, 1988. Page 133. Paragon Publishers.
New York.
9. See "A burning and shining light", by Baruch Luke Urieli in
The Threshing Floor, June-July 1992). Johannes Hemleben makes a
compelling case for it in his book, Evangelist Johannes (RoRoRo
paperback. Rowohlt Taschenbuch Verlag GMBH. Reinbek bei Hamburg,
1972).
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