Where the Gospel of Judas bottles out

I WAS a virgin until now, but in the end you have to succumb. I have just bought a copy of National Geographic.

I last saw it when I was aged about 11. I remember covers featuring thin black children by straw huts or tall dignified tribesmen in desert lands. Good photos. But for a small, fat white boy whose heroes were George Best, Benny Hill, and a cartoon character in The Beano named Walter Hottle-Bottle, they were less than compelling.

(For those too young to remember, Walter Hottle-Bottle was a hot-water bottle who had top adventures — which, on reflection, was no mean achievement by the writers.)

But being younger now, and therefore more curious about the world, I bought a copy this month, and read all about the recently revealed Gospel of Judas — in which, as you will know, Judas turns out the hero. As Jesus says to him: “You will exceed them all. For you will sacrifice the man who clothes me.”

And here is the heart of the historical twist proposed in this Coptic document, known by Irenaeus in the second century, but reaching its present form in fourth-century Egypt: Judas is the only one who understands Jesus. As a sign of this status, he is given the task of betraying him so that Jesus will be freed from his body — a truly Gnostic passion.

Jesus warned Judas that he would be cursed by all. But the loyalty of Judas knew no bounds.

By the time the manuscript was bought by its present owner in 2000, it had been on grubby and surreptitious sale for 20 years, deteriorating daily, amid adventures that even Walter Hottle-Bottle might lose sleep over. At one point, it lay in a thousand pieces “scattered like crumbs”. Now, 80 per cent of the Gospel has been restored, and it will soon be published in full.

There will be frustrations for the reader. Towards the end of the story, Judas has a revelation in which he enters a luminous cloud. Wow! And then the people on the ground hear a voice from the cloud. Wow, again! What does the voice say? Unfortunately, there’s a rip in the page at this point.

George Best would have finished with a goal. Benny Hill would end with fast-mo footage of him being chased across a field by 20 scantily-clad nurses. While Walter Hottle-Bottle could be found snug-down in dreamland after making all manner of things well.

The Gospel of Judas ends abruptly as our hero receives some money, and hands Jesus over to the arresting party.

Betrayal? Dear me, no. In this version, the scapegoat turns out the faithful friend.