For some reason Morning Edition decided to interview the controversial Turkish streamer Hasan Piker today. I haven't paid much attention to Piker, except to notice that the Right (in both parties) has been trying to use him to discredit the Michigan Senate candidate Abdul el-Sayed. The Republicans got some unexpected publicity, however, when they showed a picture of Piker in his underwear to the attendees at their midterm convention in September, "during a video montage aimed at depicting the left as radical."
Reporter Leila Fadel didn't seem to know what to do with Piker, which is normal for NPR when it tries to deal with left-wing subjects. In particular she tried to pick at him for being, you know, extreme, comparing him to the right-wing commentator Tucker Carlson.
PIKER: ... And, you know, I'm still very critical of Tucker Carlson because I find his worldview to be not dissimilar to the ideology that he criticizes in Israel, Zionism being an ethno-supremacist, religious supremacist ideology that...
FADEL: That's how you see it.
PIKER: ...Accepts the extermination - yes, that's how I see it. And that...
FADEL: Not everybody sees it that way.
PIKER: No, I understand. ...
I think you have to listen to the audio of this part, because Fadel whispers her responses to Piker's characterization of Israel. She's almost inaudible. Why?
Of course that's how he sees it. Of course not everybody sees it the way he sees it. This is a surprise? I'm reminded of antigay bigots on social media who tell gay people that we should be aware that not everybody agrees with our lifestyle - as if we didn't know that, as if it weren't what we're yelling about. NPR, like American news media, has real trouble dealing with controversy, though with a lot more tolerance for right-wing figures.
The comparison / contrast with Carlson is one more example of centrist media's inability to deal with complexity. They don't know what to make of Carlson's recent about-face on Israel, for example, though it's not new or surprising that people at widely different places on the political map sometimes agree on hot issues if you frame them like poll questions and don't go into their rationales. The pseudo-philosopher Ayn Rand opposed the US war in Vietnam, for example, based on a typically incorrect explanation of US reasons -- that we invaded Southeast Asia and killed millions of people out of "altruism." She still opposed US withdrawal, and "although Rand was a staunch opponent of the draft, for those draft dodgers who avoided military service simply because they did not want to fight communists, she stated that “not only do they not deserve amnesty, but they deserve to be sent to Russia at public expense, or North Vietnam, and stay there." A superficial agreement on one or another political issue doesn't mean equality of opinion.
Based on this sample, I'm not interesting in giving Piker more of my attention, not even in the extended interview available on the NPR app, YouTube and elsewhere. But to each his or her own.
Jamelle Bouie posted a video about Marco Rubio's recent performance in Athens, which was another example of Jake Bacharach's dictum about the defenders of Western civilization. Other commentatorshave detailed Rubio's many historical inaccuracies, but Bouie latched onto this bit:
And so we tore down our monuments; we condemned our own history.
The monuments that were torn down weren't "ours," unless you identify with the Confederacy. Maybe Rubio does; many Americans do, as shown by the popularity of the Stars and Bars even in formerly Union states today. Rubio's complaint reminded me of what someone posted on Facebook when Confederate monuments were being removed during Trump's first term:
Yes American should remember the history off our great nation when people fought to make are country a better place to live for all of are people do think people of our older generations would put up with the bullshit that's going on in our country?? I think not!!
As with Rubio, I wish I could believe that this person didn't confuse the Confederate rebels who tried to make slavery the law of the land with those who really did fight "to make are [sic] country a better place to live for all of are [sic] people", but I know better. Rubio went on, by the way: "And in too many places, we taught our children to be ashamed of the countries they would inherit." "Countries" might be a typo - after all, that's how it appears in the official State Department transcript - but it's all too plausible to me that he meant the countries, plural, that our oligarchs and their children will inherit to their enrichment: Venezuela and other Latin American countries, Gaza, Greenland, etc.
This is an unwelcome reminder of how many people saw, and still remember, the demolition or removal of monuments to Confederate criminals. It was an attack on their America. They are vaguely aware that the Civil War happened, but only vaguely. I suspect that doublethink, the maintaining of two opposed ideas at the same time, is involved. Maybe they think that any statue of a guy in uniform on a horse must represent a good guy who fought for "are country," regardless of which side he fought on.
Besides, it's so hard to tell which team somebody is playing for. For example,
in the 1990s historian H. Bruce Franklin found that most college students recognized the famous image of a prisoner being executed by a man firing a pistol inches away from the victim’s temple. But most of the students believed the shooter was a communist officer, rather than General Nguyen Ngoc Loan, chief of the South Vietnamese national police, an American ally.
The historian Sam Wineburg showed people a 1970 news photo of US "hardhats" (construction workers) rallying in support of President Nixon and the US war against Vietnam.
Sixty percent of students turned the picture of flag-waving hardhats into a protest against the war.*
As Wineburg commented, "Vietnam, as remembered by these youths, was a war waged without supporters." But that may not be fair. These youths didn't live through that period, they lived a generation later, and as Wineburg found, many Americans learned what they knew about the Sixties by watching the movie Forrest Gump. When Ken Burns' TV series on Vietnam aired a couple of years ago, even people my own age, who were old enough to remember the war, found how little they knew about it.
Most people don't think historically, they think mythically, and "myth" doesn't necessarily mean stories with supernatural or magical content: it means stories which are structured to give meaning to the world we live in, to teach simple lessons about right and wrong. Even when a story is more complex than that, people tend to boil it down to good guys vs. bad guys, as I realized when I read Homer's Iliad last winter It's much more ambivalent than I thought it would be. Before I read it, I saw some online arguments about whether it's pro-war or anti-war, with people arguing passionately on both sides of the question. I suppose both sides were partially, arguably right.
I've been spending far too much time in a Theists vs. Atheists Facebook group. In many ways it's depressing, but it also has encouraged me to sort out my thoughts in new ways.
One cliche catching on among atheists, to judge from the comments on posts in that group, is "Why should I take moral guidance from people who didn't know where the sun goes at night?" Morality isn't based on astronomy, oddly enough, but more to the point, the sun doesn't go anywhere at night. Maybe the problem is that clashing with religious nuts can be distracting and may nudge people to foolish positions.
To repeat, morality isn't based on astronomy or other sciences. If knowing that the earth goes around the sun rather than vice versa makes someone more moral, why was the Nobel winner James D. Watson a lifelong racist and male supremacist? Why did the atheist journalist Christopher Hitchen enthusiastically support Dubya's criminal invasion of Iraq? Why are evolutionary biologists so often morallyclueless? I don't mean that they're wrong (though they are) as much as that they don't understand morality to begin with.
Theists like to point to the ubiquity of belief in gods in most human cultures as something that shows theism to be plausible. It's not, of course, any more than the commonsense plausibility of geocentric astronomy proves that the sun really does go around the earth. But I can imagine evolutionary psychologists conjecturing that belief in gods, being so common, might have a genetic basis. Actually I don't have to imagine it, because at least one geneticist, Dean Hamer has done it, and published a book with the title The God Gene. I haven't read it, mainly because the promotional material indicated that Hamer's as confused about religion as he is about sexuality and scientific ethics. Among the many objections I have is that religion isn't a thing that can be explained scientifically. Anthropologists and sociologists have found that they can't define religion in a way that covers all the social phenomena that modern European Protestants call religious, or that excludes social phenomena that aren't considered religious. (This is why it doesn't bother me when theist apologists claim that atheism is a religion too. Yeah, so?) It's highly unlikely, then, that a biological explanation for "religion" can be found.
Suppose, nevertheless, that some scientist did find and prove a biological cause for religion. Biological determinists, given their record, would then want to argue that everybody should join a religion - it's in our genes! Evolution made us, and She doesn't make trash! You can't go against Science! It wouldn't prove any such thing, of course, but then I could point out that atheism is a religion and I'm already religious.
Actually, I thought first of the ubiquity of women covering their hair in cultures around the world. Like religion, it's not universal but it's common enough to make me wonder why so many cultures agree that women's nekkid heads are a problem. As the feminist Christine Stansell wrote some years ago (quoted here):
Around the world past and present, women cover their heads before God
and man. That is, they veil. A dispassionate list of veils would include
nuns' cowls, saris, lace mantillas for Mass, peasant babushkas, brides'
veils, church ladies' Sunday hats, the wigs and headscarves of Orthodox
Jews, and the headscarf my mother (middle class, Midwestern,
Protestant) threw on in the 1950s when she ran across the street to the
corner store. All these forms of veiling refer, religiously or
secularly, to the old idea that women have something that should be
hidden. Call it modesty, or propriety; but at heart it is about the
sexual shame that women incur if they reveal themselves in public. In
this regard, culture and tradition may be more decisive than religious
belief: my mother wore a scarf because "ladies" didn't go bareheaded in
public, not because the Apostle Paul told women in the early Church to
cover.
Notice that Stansell doesn't probe beneath the surface: where does this "old idea" of "sexual shame" come from? I began wondering what fiercely anti-Muslim male atheists would say if it were proved that women veil themselves because their genes tell them to, and if a woman doesn't listen to her genes, let her be anathema! The Apostle was, albeit unconsciously, a proto-biologist! Since most of them aren't distinguished for their deep feminist consciousness, I'm sure they'd adjust.
I think it's worth thinking about this question because so many atheists take for granted that Science is authoritative on social and moral questions in a way that Religion no longer is. A common trope is that religion is all about control, replete with paranoid suspicions of a mysterious They who brainwash and control us. Scientists have been all too happy to move in and take Religion's place in that area. My concern is that no one is qualified to occupy that space as Authority. Skeptics should be readier to deploy their critical faculties against Science too.
One big story from the weekend seems to be slithering away quietly, despite Administration attempts to goose it back.
Five British men in their twenties were arrested outside the RAF airbase at Fairford, which has been used by the US as a base for attacks on Iran. A farmer reported suspicious activity in the middle of the night, and the police moved in. A bomb-hunting robot was brought to search the suspects' vans. The reports I've heard do not mention that no bomb was found, perhaps out of embarrassment, only that the five suspects were released on bond. This police official confirmed to UK news that no bombs were found, only an "accelerant." That could mean anything from lighter fluid to cans of gasoline. According to that clip's description, it was "a quantity of petrol." A quantity? How much, exactly?
The Only President We've Got was not pleased. NPR's Morning Edition reported that Trump complained:
FRAYER: Well, President Trump initially said about the suspects, quote, "we had them under investigation," and, "we know everything about them," suggesting some sort of transatlantic intelligence collaboration.
INSKEEP: Yeah.
FRAYER: Then in the Oval Office last night, he expressed surprise when asked by reporters about the suspects' release.
(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)
PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP: Over there, I'm surprised that they released them. I wouldn't have done that. Look; they've been very good. They worked with us very closely. We know everything about them. We would not have released them.
FRAYER: Trump was also asked whether Iran is linked to these suspects. He said it might be, but he'd rather not say.
I suppose it's too much to ask of NPR to mention that Trump has established a pattern as a liar, but some skepticism is in order. It might conceivably turn out that the US knew the suspects and had been following them, but this is the sort of thing he says routinely and then forgets, and is eventually confirmed to be fantasy if anyone bothers to follow up on it.
Correspondent Lauren Frayer continued:
Secretary of State Marco Rubio was also asked about this. He told Fox News it, quote, "clearly involves the hands of a foreign actor" but did not name a specific country. Iran, for its part, denies any involvement. The embassy here in London calls that malicious speculation.
Rubio also has a long history of lying, even when he supplies more details. Maybe this time he wasn't, but I wouldn't count on it. Given the events of the past seven or eight months, I'm more inclined to believe Iran over Trump or Rubio or any other US official.
What those five guys with their quantities of petrol were up to, I don't know. I expect more facts will emerge in time, but for now the British police's comparatively (and uncharacteristically) cautious actions make it plausible that the whole thing is overblown.
I've previously expressed my opposition to free-lance guerillas taking up arms against the Machine. Accept for the moment that these men did intend to attack the Fairford air force base. It would not have been an act of terrorism, because military targets are legitimate targets for attack. I've upset liberal friends by saying this in the past, and I'll say it again. We live in a time when this is forgotten, and governments claim that the civilians they slaughter are actually not civilians at all, because they live within five hundred miles of a "terrorist" target. If the Fairford RAF suspects turn out to have had violence on their minds, they should suffer the consequences, just as if they were regular military who were captured or killed in action. But terrorists? No, not from what we know now.
The big story this week has been the Trump White House's retraction of press credentials to reporters from MS NOW, CNN, and Politico. A judge issued a temporary restraining order last night, and the crews have been reinstated for now, but as one observer remarked hopefully on MS NOW today, it isn't over yet. The order will expire in two weeks, Trump can kick out the reporters again, and the cycle will continue.
I really intended to write about this last week, but things have been hectic around here. My first reaction to the news was to remember the independent journalist I. F. Stone's quip that being kicked out of the White House press corps during the Truman administration was the best thing that ever happened to him. He continued to work as an investigative journalist, started his own newsletter long before the Internet, blogs, and Substack, and broke numerous important stories simply by doing research. He also said that having access to government officials was hazardous at best to journalistic integrity: you hang around with these guys, you get friendly with them, and eventually you begin to understand why it's in the interest of the public to be lied to.
In Trump's case, he has (as some of his defenders pointed out) been much more accessible to the press than Biden or Obama. He spars with reporters face-to-face constantly, though that produces nothing but soundbytes as far as I can see, sometimes a shocking! shocking! insult directed at a (usually female) reporter, but he has the power and can dance around, play, and simply lie at his pleasure.
Trump is certainly in the wrong. It was funny when he slipped and declared, "I don't have to let them into my — into the people's house," but it didn't change anything. The invocation of "national security" is transparently bogus, but the courts have generally declined to push back on that sacred value, no matter how unjustified it is, since the Nixon administration at least.
NPR admitted: "As Trump noted, there is no constitutional or legal right that requires the president to let any particular journalist — or anyone at all — to report on federal matters from the White House grounds. The administration has argued in public statements that reporting from White House grounds is a privilege not a right." But that works both ways: US presidents have come to take for granted that, like Jesus in the gospel of Mark, they can simply summon the multitude at whim, and a crowd will magically appear to drink up their words. Presidential access to the press is also a privilege not a right. A clutch of news organizations - even Fox News! - banded together to withhold their microphones from Trump, with entertaining results. The same networks ran the same video clip of Trump at a ribbon-cutting ceremony with no microphones to catch his babble, and the anchors giggled nervously at how much he must be suffering. But the suffering was obviously mutual. Trump still found some microphones elsewhere to speak to, and the networks ran the video.
I'm old enough to remember when the news media were wailing that Obama's disinclination to hold press conferences often enough threatened the First Amendment. That was a nothingburger too. I think it was on NPR earlier this week, but can't find it now, that some champion of the press fumed that journalists are professionals! who've studied for years! ... This can't be taken seriously. Reporting is something you can learn on the job; journalism school isn't necessary. And I don't see much payoff from those years of studies in the Washington press corps, especially those who fence with the Presidents or their proxies in front of cameras. (Some of them do good work -- but in print, not on TV or radio. I think I've mentioned before that I listen to my NPR affiliate for its very good local news coverage, and secondarily to the national reporters only to infuriate myself out of bed in the morning.)
The press secretaries, regardless of their party, are professional liars, and they give away very little, often nothing. There's little to choose between, say, Karine Jean-Pierre rolling her eyes like a bored teenager and Carolyn Leavitt singing the praises of her Supreme Leader; not to mention the other press handlers like Matt Miller, who couldn't help smirking as he defended killing Gazan children. At best, press secretaries are butts for comedy. (Remember Sean Spicer and Sarah Huckabee Sanders?) And I don't think that's enough to justify the time and expense of press interaction with them.
This tweet, with its accompanying photograph, went viral this weekend. With any luck at all, it will cost Bo French the election for Texas Railroad Commissioner. Even Karl Rove, Ted Cruz, and other Texas Republicans were offended, though others were reluctant even to pretend they were. French has a long history of racist remarks, but he won the primary election for the post and has the support of the oil and gas industry. He's borne down on this tweet, mocking his critics.
Liberals too scolded French for his bigotry. Most of what I saw was in the "Oh, how can you say such awful things?" mode, which is fair enough, but there was little if any attempt to go beyond that and dismantle the assumptions that underlay French's tweet, which was something of a dogwhistle but obvious enough. Take this Houston public-media call-in show. The hosts spend twelve minutes being indignant, but I expect more and better from public media. (Not that I get it.) French would prefer that there be no non-white students, or residents for that matter, in Texas. From his responses to criticism, I gather that he assumes (or knows that his backers assume) that Indians and other foreigners are crowding out "American" (i.e., white) kids for admission to the University of Texas.
Two of the students in the photo told the Dallas Morning News that they’re U.S. citizens. Most UT students are Texans — state law requires that 90% of each freshman class come from in-state — and there is no evidence that the students in the photo French posted are foreigners.
French said UT was “filled with foreign nationals” and argued that the school has prioritized foreign students and workers. However, under state law, 90% of UT freshmen must be in-state residents, while the remaining 10% are international students or out-of-state students. International students comprised about 4% of undergraduates in the 2025-26 school year.
UT offers automatic admission to all in-state residents in the top 5% of their high school graduating class. Under state law, 75% of UT’s freshman class must be admitted under this policy. The remaining students are admitted through a holistic process that considers factors such as grade point average, extracurriculars and personal essays.
French doesn't care about facts, of course, and I don't think most liberals do either. But they should at least pretend to. I watched a YouTube video today on American slavery by Jamelle Bouie, in which he acknowledged a bit sheepishly that many people on all sides of American political debates don't really care much about facts, but said that it's still good to be armed with them when you encounter bad claims and arguments. I agree.
Remember Kash Patel's locker-room celebration with the US hockey team in May? I do, but I'd forgotten that "In 2019, an event at a Houston stadium headlined by Trump and Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi drew over 50,000 attendees. French’s comments could alienate those same voters, said Brendan Steinhauser, a Republican consultant in Austin." Republican elites are quite cozy with right-wing Hindus of the sort that currently run India. That's not why Bo French wants to run them out of Texas, of course. Racists pretend to care that immigrants won't "assimilate." The kids in that photo sure as hell have assimilated.
Well, this is a mess. The advertised subject, "The Original Jesus Was Hidden in Mark" never turns up. Ehrman keeps getting distracted, but then I know from his podcasts that he's eminently distractable. So is Derek the interviewer. It makes for a toxic combination.
I've now watched a number of Bart Ehrman's podcast videos, and one or two interviews he's given other podcasters. Even on his own turf he is a poor speaker, badly organized, prone to fits of maniacal giggling. I wonder what he was like in the classroom, but the lecture he gave when he retired suggests that he can do better than he does in his podcasts. I would expect, however, based on my own experience speaking to college classes from the 1970s to the 2010s, that Erhman would have organized his thoughts on a basic and familiar topic that he must have covered in his undergraduate classes over decades. Instead he sounds as if this is all new to him and he's never talked about it before. The same applies to interviews. Interviewers love to distract their subjects, if only because of their own ignorance, and someone who gives interviews regularly should learn how to push the discussion back in the direction he wants to go. With all due immodesty, I think I could do a better job on this topic than Ehrman did here.
But going with where Erhman let himself be led: I agree that the empty tomb is a legend; I figured that out soon after I began studying the New Testament and the scholarship in the early 1980s. I suspect that Mark invented the legend, though of course there's no evidence either way and we'll probably never know.
The stuff about "the Jews expected a military messiah and couldn't cope with Jesus being all peace-and-love-and-shit" motif was popular in mid-20th century New Testament scholarship, and I see it's still with us. It's not necessary to invoke it to explain the disciples' cognitive dissonance, though. Mark shows Jesus preaching the imminent arrival of the Kingdom of God, and most scholars agree that there's no reason to think he was at odds with the normal messianic expectations of his day, though it's not certain what those were. There's a famous old article by Morton Smith, "What Is Implied by the Variety of Messianic Figures?" (Ehrman surely knows it),* which shows that a wild variety of contradictory messianic expectations were current and not grounds for serious dispute. That article is still often cited. According to Mark and the rest of the New Testament, Jesus expected the Kingdom to arrive with violence and the punishment of poorly-defined evildoers. But the cognitive dissonance came from the fact that the Kingdom not only didn't arrive, its announcer was crucified. (Mark's stories about Jesus predicting his death are also probably legends, as I think Ehrman would agree.)
What I was expecting from this video was some discussion of Mark's theme of secrecy around Jesus and his mission, which has been much discussed, especially since Wilhelm Wrede's 1901 book The Messianic Secret,** though Wrede has frequently been misunderstood and misrepresented. His discussion is detailed and complicated, which helps to explain the misunderstandings. For example, he often paraphrases other scholars' attempts to explain the problems he discusses, then refutes them, so I think some of his readers mistook the paraphrases for his own position. I'm rereading it right now, so I was interested in Ehrman's take on secrecy in Mark. Not enough to pay money for the lecture series, though, sorry. His endless cackling and preacher-style jokes are just too annoying.
Ehrman has written about Wrede and the messianic secret on his blog, I see. I think he got it wrong, partly because of the need to simplify for his non-academic fanbase; under one of those posts, a commenter asks "Isn’t it your view that Jesus did think he was the messiah and only told
his inner circle about this? So in a sense it is historical that he
kept it a secret?" and Ehrman replies "Yup." I disagree, but neither of us knows for sure, because there's no reliable evidence about it.
Briefly, in Mark's gospel Jesus goes around exorcising demons and healing the sick and dying. The demons he drives out recognize him as the Son of God, and he tells them to shut up. Several though not all of his healing miracles are done privately, with only his inner group of disciples (Peter, James, John) present, and he then tells the people he's healed not to tell anyone about his work. Naturally, they tell everybody. The more he tells them not to, the more they do it anyway. And some of his miracles are done in public, so I don't know who he was trying to kid. The theme continues through Peter's recognition that Jesus is the messiah, which Jesus also orders to keep secret, until Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem just before his arrest and execution; but he still has some secrets, like the prediction the Temple would be destroyed and he would come on clouds of glory within a generation. Because Matthew and Luke left out most of this secrecy, I suspect that most Bible readers just assume that Jesus did everything in public; but Mark said otherwise. If this interests you, try reading the gospel of Mark yourself - it's not very long - and pay attention to its depiction of Jesus' secrecy.
Another motif Wrede discussed that I think is important is Mark's frequent alternation between Jesus teaching his disciples in private and Jesus teaching the crowds in public. No matter where he is - in town, by the sea, on a mountaintop - Jesus will suddenly interrupt himself and call the crowd to him, as though hundreds of people were waiting to be summoned and then dismissed. As Wrede said, this is not plausible or possible, and it shows that Mark isn't writing history but a sort of drama. My favorite example, though I don't remember if Wrede mentions it, is in Mark chapter 13. Jesus has taken Peter and James and John and Andrew aside on the Mount of Olives and predicted the bad times to come. Mark (I suppose, but it could be Jesus, why not?) interjects "Let the reader understand" at 13:14 about "the abomination of desolation" that will be set up in the Temple, and finally warns in verse 37, "What I say to you I say to all: Watch." The crowd is always there, out of earshot but ready to come running at a moment's notice.
The theme of secrecy is bigger than these details, though. Dramatic irony runs throughout Mark, and to some extent through all the gospels. That is, the reader knows from the beginning who Jesus is, and how the story will turn out; but the people, the disciples, the priests and the Pharisees and the scribes, don't know. Think of Sophocles' Oedipus: the audience knows from the beginning of the play who Oedipus is, what he did and what it all means, but the characters in the play don't. Mark tells the reader too (1:1, RSV): "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God." No surprises there!
In The Cost of Authority (Fortress Press, 1982), Graham Shaw suggested (I think reasonably) that Mark's stress on secrecy may have reflected his own intention (p. 189):
It was, for example, never intended to be printed, so that everyone might have a copy. The stress on the esoteric within the book suggests that access to the text may itself have been a privilege which the reader could not take for granted. Although it very quickly acquired a public use in the new Christian community, ... a much more private use may have been the original intention. The injunction 'let the reader understand' (13.14) seems to envisage an individual rather than a colletive audience... The phrase in ch. 13 already quoted assumes that the reader will come to the text well furnished with a knowledge of Christian lore.
I like this, but I'm not sure about it. While Mark does stress the esoteric, he also is revealing those secrets, publicizing them, letting the reader into the privileged circle of them who know. To this day people write similar books; the Amazon algorithm points me to them daily. These secrets were hidden for thousands of years from everyone but the Elect, but now I am revealing them to you for the price of this book!
Remember that the Greek word apokalypsis means "revelation," and that Mark includes some typically apocalyptic material. I still think that Mark could be classified as an apocalyptic book like Daniel, Enoch, or the New Testament Revelation. One of the things it has in common with Daniel and Enoch is the motif that these truths were kept hidden, secret, sealed until now, which explains why they weren't known before, but also implies that the End has arrived. The New Testament book of Revelation is different on that: John is told not to seal up the book (Revelation 22:19, RSV): "And [the angel] said to me, 'Do not seal up the words of the prophecy of this book, for the time is near.'" Oops! Well, nobody's perfect.
Matthew and Luke threw open the doors, which indicates a change in the knowledge ordinary Christians were allowed or expected to have. (And not only Christians: by the mid-second century, hostile educated pagans wrote attacks on Christianity based on some knowledge of Christian writings.) If so, it happened fast, like other developments in early Christianity that we'll never be able to reconstruct now but which are visible in the New Testament writings. Paul, for example, also refers to esoterica in his letters. Later on, the Gospel of Thomas would begin, "These are the secret sayings which the living Jesus spoke and which Didymos Judas Thomas wrote down." As with Mark, we're entitled to ask how secret those teachings were by the time they were written down. This is the sort of stuff I thought Ehrman would touch on in this interview. No such luck. But maybe only the truly worthy are given to know the original Jesus who's hidden in Mark.
No, wait: I don't really mean that. For one thing, I see no reason to believe that Mark knew anything about "the original Jesus", and Ehrman probably would agree, so the title is a misleading come-on. That's complicated by the fact that at times Mark, or some of his sources, show accurate information about first-century Judaism. That's why this MythVision video is so frustrating: like Mark, Ehrman promises to reveal "the original Jesus hidden in Mark," but it's just a tease.
If, as most scholars think, the gospel of Mark was the first of the four to be written down, its success indicates that it found a market and an audience rather quickly. Very soon afterward, the authors of Matthew and Luke produced new, improved gospels based on Mark's outline, which overtook it in popularity. Mark was bumped down to second place, after Matthew, in the emerging canon. More imitators followed, and "gospel" came to mean a particular kind of book about Jesus. (Similarly, the success of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings made it the three-volume template for many imitators.) I don't think the author of Mark foresaw that.
----
*Journal of Biblical Literature 78 (1959): 66-72.
** English translation published by James Clarke & Co., 1971.
