Editor’s note: With all the hype about the novel The Da Vinci Code and the movie that opens tomorrow, some church members are puzzled about how much of the book that purports to be fact really is fiction.  Rest assured!  As this book, written by LDS scholars, points out, members of the LDS Church know a lot more about the Savior than Leonardo Da Vinci ever did.  Today’s Meridian features Chapter 1 of the book, and the book’s introduction ran yesterday.  We also include a click-to-buy so you can purchase the book without leaving your computer. 

Chapter 1

“All descriptions of artwork, architecture, documents, and secret rituals in this novel are accurate.”(The Da Vinci Code, p. 1)

We live in the hectic present. Daily concerns take almost every moment of our attention, and we still have unfinished business when we finally go to sleep. Yet in those rare moments when we free ourselves of the present, we naturally, almost instinctively, worry and dream about the future, leaving little room for anything ­else.

Interest in the Past

Because we live in the present and dream of the future, the question naturally arises: Why should we be interested in the past, especially the distant past? The past is elusive. The records left to us are fragmentary and often contradictory. Even the most interested among us are often quite conflicted about how to interpret the past. Decades of historical inquiry have at least made two points — that the past is in some way a “foreign place” and that we will forever be attempting to fully understand it.

Additionally, we may ask ourselves, Because life is short and uncertain, thus making time a precious commodity, should we waste it in the past when there is so much in the present and the approaching future that captures our attention?

For many religiously devoted individuals, some events of the past hold obvious significance — particularly the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, even among dedicated disciples, most are interested only in the narrow focus of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Beyond that, history stimulates little interest among most people. This lack of interest probably arises because few people understand how to approach history in a way that makes it meaningful for ­them.

Two Important Skills

Part of the reason we struggle with the past is that parents and teachers rarely transmit two important skills of historical inquiry: (1) respectful questioning and (2) a wonder and openness about the past.

By “respectful questioning,” we mean two things. First, we should realize that we are dealing with real people from the past who were acting in real time. We must respect them as individuals. We must be more sympathetic and less judgmental than we often are when we judge historical figures from our modern perspective.

Second, we cannot be gullible and thereby accept every interpretation of historical events and historical figures at face value. This outcome is often an issue with popular media portrayals of the past. For any article, book, television program, or Hollywood movie, we need to ask questions about the sources used, the intentions of the author, and the context of the production.

The second skill is having “a wonder and openness about the past.” By this, we mean we must be ready to experience the excitement and thrill of learning lessons from the past. Additionally, we must be open and flexible in dealing with new interpretations and new information. A new discovery can add depth and breadth to our understanding of the present as well as the past. Tunnel vision has no place in legitimate historical inquiry.

The harmonious marriage of these two skills within the mind of every person should be one of the primary goals of education. We recognize that, in some ways, they seem to be conflicting modes of thought, but they are imperative to effective historical inquiry. We must strike a balance. At a time when popular culture is offering us provocative portraits of important people and events — among them Jesus of Nazareth and Mary Magdalene —­ we face no more important history lesson than teaching these ­skills.

Popular History

Our current culture tends to be ahistorical — that is, not concerned with history or with historical development. For the most part, we have not been accustomed to the skills needed to carefully and thoughtfully engage the past.

As professors of religious education at Brigham Young University, we often meet excited individuals who want to share with us their interpretations of the past, which are usually views that are more informed by pop perception than by careful historical inquiry. Such individuals are often widely read and know various speculative nuances of popular history. The Da Vinci Code, or some other popular interpretation of the past, has captured their attention, and they are eager to talk with a university professor about their ­views.

Notice the kinds of questions that have been asked us in response to The Da Vinci Code phenomenon:

1. Do you believe the Catholic Church is hiding documents in the Vatican?
2. Do you believe Jesus was ­married?
3. Do you believe the Nag Hammadi texts and the Dead Sea Scrolls contain truths that have been revealed in the Restoration?
4. Do you believe the European royal lines descend from Jesus?

It is interesting how such questions are phrased, suggesting that the questioners are dealing with a matter of belief and not of evidence. We are almost never asked, “How good is the evidence that Jesus was married?” or “What evidence do we have that the Nag Hammadi texts taught eternal marriage?”

In responding to these kinds of questions, we often notice that the excitement fades when we raise questions about some pop historical reconstruction that has been built more on imagination than on solid historical foundations and that has not gone through the rigors of peer review and debate. Sometimes we find that we are dismissing not just some errant historical conclusion but rather a theory that has become a precious facet of a reader’s inner life, having given him or her some sort of “gnosis” or special knowledge. Somehow, pop history, obtained with little effort or thought, helps some people define themselves and their relationship to ­others.

Our encounters consist not only of providing answers to questions but also of replacing misunderstandings with something much more satisfying and thoughtful. There is, after all, so much in real history that is equally exciting, more mysterious, more intellectually challenging, and a lot closer to the truth than can be found in popular interpretations of history.

Individuals who thrive on history are often eloquent, intelligent, and curious. They have a natural appetite for discovering the wonders of the past. The problem is that real history has often been filtered in a way to make it more palatable before it reaches them. Our cultural motifs, our educational systems, and our communication media have failed us. What society permits to trickle through about the past is often something sensational or simply false.

Spurious accounts that snare the gullible are readily available. The Internet, the media, including national publishers, and the History and Discovery television channels are the primary pur­veyors of this kind of history today. As professors, we are constantly bombarded with inquiries regarding some Internet article, new book, or television program that is either sensational or salacious. Certainly this is the case with The Da Vinci Code, a book that, more often than not, gets its facts wrong and therefore puts forth unsubstantiated conclusions of the past as though they were “gospel truths.”

A few flagrant examples will suffice to prove this point. Here are some of the most egregious historical errors in The Da Vinci ­Code:

1. There were more than eighty gospel accounts “considered for the New Testament” by the early church (p. 231).
2. The New Testament canon was decided upon by a “pagan Roman emperor Constantine the Great” (p. 231).
3. Jesus was not considered divine but was “viewed by his followers as a mortal prophet... a great and powerful man, but a man nonetheless. A mortal,” until the Council of Nicea in the fourth century (p. 233).
4. The Dead Sea Scrolls were first discovered in the 1950s (p. 234).
5. The Catholic Church “tried very hard to suppress the release of” the Nag Hammadi codices (which The Da Vinci Code mistakenly identifies as the “Coptic scrolls”) (p. 234).
6. The Dead Sea Scrolls are “the earliest Christian records” (p. 245).
7. Mary Magdalene was from “the House of Benjamin” (p. 248).

8.   “Mary Magdalene was pregnant at the time of the crucifixion” and was taken secretly to France by Jesus’ “trusted uncle, Joseph of Arimathea” (p. 255).

Dozens of similar blatantly false or completely unsubstantiated statements are found throughout The Da Vinci ­Code. Ironically, the novel’s title is a telling story itself. Leonardo was never known as “da Vinci.” Like Jesus of Nazareth, his name tells us where he is from: Leonardo, “of Vinci,” a small town in the heart of Tuscany.

Approaching the Code

The following question necessarily arises: Is it possible for individuals who are not necessarily pursuing a Ph.D. in history but who are genuinely interested in the past to be able to quickly detect the flawed historical context provided by a historical novel or a motion ­picture?

As intriguing as some pseudo-­history may seem and as confident as we may be that we would never be so gullible as to be swept up by such doctrine, we know it is happening all around us. ­Pseudo-­history attracts large numbers of accomplished people, even some with advanced degrees.

For example, in looking at The Da Vinci Code as a case study, we must consider the following important points in assessing the facts: First, The Da Vinci Code purports that a secret cache of documents exists that contains information about Jesus and His alleged spouse Mary Magdalene. To make such a claim, we would either have had to view those documents or to know where they could be found. If such records are so readily available to the author, then we would want to know if they are available to others.

Second, are there external historical sources that confirm the existence of such documents? The documents may exist, but that does not prove that they are ancient. They may indeed be forgeries. A reference to these documents from outside the collection would help confirm their existence. Third, does the internal logic of the account make sense — that is, can they be placed in a known historical ­setting?

For example, we might ask why the Catholic Church would suppress documents about Jesus’ marriage when that information in itself is not problematic to their theology. Or we might ask why there were followers of Jesus during Constantine’s reign who thought that Jesus was merely a human prophet. If He was nothing more than a married man who lived in the first century, then why did anyone follow Him? Finally, if the story as told in The Da Vinci Code is correct, then why did so many of the alleged conspirators leave clues to the world?

To ascertain the accuracy of historical claims, scholars and students must ask important questions such as those given above. Conclusions are sometimes not as important as how those conclusions were obtained, and the insightful investigator will ask not whether Jesus was married but rather if there is any credible information from His lifetime that suggests whether He was or was ­not.

History carries us toward an understanding of how the world is rather than how we might wish it to be. Encountering well-­written, accurate history invariably elicits a sense of reverence and awe. Good history is refreshingly un-­self-­serving, circumspect, and understated.

Real history is astonishing. Real history is a delight. We are amazed at the prospects. Ultimately, history allows people long dead to talk directly to us. The books that record history can accompany us everywhere. Books are patient where we are slow to understand; they allow us to go over the difficult parts as many times as we wish, and they are never critical of our lapses. Books are the key to understanding the world.

In the end, our unending quest continues to be a journey of “discovery” as we visit that foreign land called the past. Further, our unending quest is also an effort to pass along the skills that will allow those who follow to embrace the past. Finally, we want to provide others a sense of discovery — the thrill of the journey.