Yet Ugo said, “Please understand, I don’t suggest this lightly. Try to stand apart from your emotions. It’s a testable hypothesis: the authors of both John and the Diatessaron knew a disciple had brought the Shroud to Edessa and indicated this in their writings.”
“Then let’s test the hypothesis,” I said. “Does John say the burial cloth had an image on it? No. Does the Diatessaron say that? No. Does John or the Diatessaron say the Shroud was brought from Jerusalem to Edessa? No. The hypothesis fails.”
“Father,” Ugo chided, “you know that isn’t reasonable. These writers weren’t trying to persuade us, two thousand years later, of something they considered obvious. It would be ludicrous for them to make a big fuss about the Shroud if everyone knew it was in Edessa. As ludicrous as if you or I made a big fuss about the existence of Saint Peter’s Basilica.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we have to look for an allusion. A few details feathered in to make the gospels acknowledge what everyone in Edessa and Antioch already knew.”
“So where are those allusions?”
“Before I answer, tell me this: after the disciples found the Shroud, who do you suppose was allowed to keep it?”
“I don’t know. It would’ve become communal property, I guess.”
“But the disciples fanned out across the world to spread the Gospel. Which of them got to keep the Shroud?”
“I would be speculating. The gospels don’t say.”
“Don’t they? I would suggest to you that John gives us a hint.”
He waited, as if I might guess.
“How well do you remember the story,” he said, “of Doubting Thomas?”
I recited, “Thomas, called Didymus, was not with the other disciples when Jesus came. So they said, ‘We have seen the Lord,’ but he replied, ‘Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my hand into the wound in his side, I will not believe.’ A week later Jesus came and stood in their midst, saying, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘See my hands. Put your hand into my side. Do not be unbelieving, but believe.’ Thomas answered, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus replied, ‘Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.’ ”
“Excellent,” Ugo said. “Now, I ask you: does any other gospel give us the story of Doubting Thomas?”
“No. There’s a similar story in Luke, but the details are different.”
“Correct. Luke says Jesus appeared after his death and the disciples were all afraid. But he never mentions Thomas. Nor does he focus on this peculiar thing Jesus does, proving his identity by showing the nail marks and the spear wound. So why would John add those details? It’s almost as if he took Luke’s story and then specifically added Thomas and the wounds.”
Here was the monster I had created. A man who now could dissect the gospels like a priest and test them like a scientist. These were exactly the right questions: How are the gospel accounts different? What do the differences mean? If a story isn’t factual, then why is it there? But rather than encourage Ugo, I said, “I don’t know.”
Ugo leaned in. “Remember the question I asked you before? About which disciple received the Shroud? I think this story is our answer.”
“You think Thomas got the Shroud?”
He rose and pointed to a map of ancient Edessa on the wall. “This building,” he said, tapping a dot beneath the glass, “was the most famous church in Edessa. Built to house the bones of Saint Thomas after he died. Thomas was there, Father Alex. Later records suggest he sent the image to the king. All I’m suggesting is that the gospel of John agrees. Its author knew the story and added it to the gospel.”