The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ. Philip Pullman
Also by the author
His Dark Materials
Northern Lights
The Subtle Knife
The Amber Spyglass
Lyra’s Oxford
Once Upon a Time in the North
The Sally Lockhart books
The Ruby in the Smoke
The Shadow in the North
The Tiger in the Well
The Tin Princess
Fairy tales
The Firework-Maker’s Daughter
Clockwork, or All Wound Up
I was a Rat!
The Scarecrow and his Servant
Others
The Broken Bridge
The Butterfly Tattoo
Count Karlstein
Spring-heeled Jack
Puss in Boots
The Wonderful Story of Aladdin and the Enchanted Lamp
Mossycoat
First published in Great Britain in 2010 by
Canongate Books Ltd,
14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE
This digital edition first published in 2010
by Canongate Books
Copyright © Philip Pullman, 2010
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Parts of the afterword appeared in the Daily Telegraph’s Seven magazine on 4th April, 2010
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available
on request from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 84767 828 7
Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Ltd,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire
www.canongate.tv
Mary and Joseph
This is the story of Jesus and his brother Christ, of how they were born, of how they lived and of how one of them died. The death of the other is not part of the story.
As the world knows, their mother was called Mary. She was the daughter of Joachim and Anna, a rich, pious and elderly couple who had never had a child, much as they prayed for one. It was considered shameful that Joachim had never fathered any offspring, and he felt the shame keenly. Anna was just as unhappy. One day she saw a nest of sparrows in a laurel tree, and wept that even the birds and the beasts could produce young, when she could not.
Finally, however, possibly because of their fervent prayers, Anna conceived a child, and in due course she gave birth to a girl. Joachim and Anna vowed to dedicate her to the Lord God, so they took her to the temple and offered her to the high priest Zacharias, who kissed her and blessed her and took her into his care.
Zacharias nurtured the child like a dove, and she danced for the Lord, and everyone loved her for her grace and simplicity.
But she grew as every other girl did, and when she was twelve years old the priests of the temple realised that before long she would begin to bleed every month. That, of course, would pollute the holy place. What could they do? They had taken charge of her; they couldn’t simply throw her out.
So Zacharias prayed, and an angel told him what to do. They should find a husband for Mary, but he should be a good deal older, a steady and experienced man. A widower would be ideal. The angel gave precise instructions, and promised a miracle to confirm the choice of the right man.
Accordingly, Zacharias called together as many widowers as he could find. Each one was to bring with him a wooden rod. A dozen or more men came in answer, some young, some middle-aged, some old. Among them was a carpenter called Joseph.
Consulting his instructions, Zacharias gathered all the rods together and prayed over them before giving them back. The last to receive his rod was Joseph, and as soon as it came into his hand it burst into flower.
‘You’re the one!’ said Zacharias. ‘The Lord has commanded that you should marry the girl Mary.’
‘But I’m an old man!’ said Joseph. ‘And I have sons older than the girl. I shall be a laughing-stock.’
‘Do as you are commanded,’ said Zacharias, ‘or face the anger of the Lord. Remember what happened to Korah.’
Korah was a Levite who had challenged the authority of Moses. As a punishment the earth opened under him and swallowed him up, together with all his household.
Joseph was afraid, and reluctantly agreed to take the girl in marriage. He took her back to his house.
‘You must stay here while I go about my work,’ he told her. ‘I’ll come back to you in good time. The Lord will watch over you.’
In Joseph’s household Mary worked so hard and behaved so modestly that no one had a word of criticism for her. She spun wool, she made bread, she drew water from the well, and as she grew and became a young woman there were many who wondered at this strange marriage, and at Joseph’s absence. There were others, too, young men in particular, who would try to speak to her and smile engagingly, but she said little in reply and kept her eyes on the ground. It was easy to see how simple and good she was.
And time went past.
The Birth of John
Now Zacharias the high priest was old like Joseph, and his wife Elizabeth was elderly too. Like Joachim and Anna, they had never had a child, much as they desired one.
One day Zacharias saw an angel, who told him, ‘Your wife will bear a child, and you must call him John.’
Zacharias was astounded, and said, ‘How can that possibly be? I am an old man, and my wife is barren.’
‘It will happen,’ said the angel. ‘And until it does, you shall be mute, since you did not believe me.’ And so it was. Zacharias could no longer speak. But shortly after that Elizabeth conceived a child, and was overjoyed, because her barrenness had been a disgrace and hard to endure.
When the time came, she bore a son. As they were going to circumcise him they asked what he should be called, and Zacharias took a tablet and wrote ‘John’.
His relatives were surprised, because none of the family had that name; but as soon as he had written it, Zacharias became able to speak again, and this miracle confirmed the choice. The boy was named John.
The Conception of Jesus
At that time, Mary was about sixteen years old, and Joseph had never touched her.
One night in her bedroom she heard a whisper through her window.
‘Mary, do you know how beautiful you are? You are the most lovely of all women. The Lord must have favoured you especially, to be so sweet and so gracious, to have such eyes and such lips . . . ’
She was confused, and said, ‘Who are you?’
‘I am an angel,’ said the voice. ‘Let me in and I shall tell you a secret that only you must know.’
She opened the window and let him in. In order not to frighten her, he had assumed the appearance of a young man, just like one of the young