Creation of History, Second Edition

The Transformation of Barnabas from Peacemaker to Warrior Saint

Michael R. Cosby

• Publisher: Cascade Books
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN:
  9781725269026
  9781725269033
• eBook ISBN:
  9781725269040
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Church

In this groundbreaking study, Michael Cosby uncovers the unknown history of the transformation of the Apostle Barnabas from a peacemaker to a warrior saint. Modern Cypriot beliefs about Barnabas diverge significantly from the New Testament depiction of the man as a leader involved in creative solutions to ethnic conflicts in the early church. Over the centuries, he morphed into a symbol of Greek Cypriot nationalism, bequeathing his power to the archbishop in Nicosia. This modern mythical St. Barnabas resulted from a complicated blend of religious and political maneuvering at key points in the history of Cyprus. Orthodox clergy made a consensus builder complicit in the ongoing strife between Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots. Cosby's thought-provoking book challenges readers to ponder their own beliefs to sort through what is history and what is legend.

chapter one

Discovering Created History

I did not mean to cause trouble. I really didn’t. But digging up the past can uncover upsetting information. What if the past is not as we were taught? What if historical investigation brings to light details that challenge our beliefs about events in our cultural heritage? Such discoveries can be particularly painful when they reveal legendary elements in our national, ethnic, or religious beliefs. I confess I am guilty of contributing to such truth-induced turmoil.

Trouble arose because of my intense curiosity about Joseph, an early church leader from Cyprus whom Jesus’ Twelve apostles called Barnabas. The New Testament portrays Barnabas as a peacemaker, as a leader adept at facilitating compromise solutions to ethnic conflict in the early Christian movement. However, Greek Cypriots today revere him as a warrior saint, asking him in prayer to expel the Turks from their island. How did such a radical transformation occur? How, many centuries after his death, did Barnabas the negotiator become a symbol of Greek Cypriot nationalism and a combatant in the intractable conflict between ethnic Greeks and Turks in Cyprus? I simply had to know.

So in 2011, I journeyed to Cyprus as a Senior Fulbright Fellow to conduct research on how, through the centuries, legends about Barnabas changed the image of the apostle. I wanted to learn as much as I could about Barnabas from those who reverence him most. Orthodox Cypriots consider him to be their apostle, the one who ensured the independence of their church.

As I plodded through the historical evidence, the story of Barnabas and the role he came to play in the political divide in Cyprus slowly unfolded like a cold case mystery. Details long buried slowly came to light, connections between events became clear, and finally the entire set of circumstances began to emerge from the shadows. Unfortunately, my research into the development of beliefs about Barnabas exposed serious flaws with what modern Cypriots affirm about him. The implications for their faith and politics are immense.

When, toward the end of my time on the island, I explained the results of my research on Barnabas to members of the Cyprus Fulbright Commission, one member told me, “I am a secular man. I only go to church to attend weddings and funerals. But somehow I always thought I could trust Barnabas. I feel like I have been kicked in the stomach.”

The implications of my research, however, extend beyond Cyprus. All of us believe stories that have little or no basis in fact—we are simply unaware of the origins of our beliefs. Facing our collective past can be troubling. What if historical investigation demonstrates that some of our dearest religious or cultural beliefs resulted from a chain of suspicious events we knew nothing about? Do we believe the truth will set us free, or would we rather just leave things buried?

I know from personal experience that this question is not merely rhetorical. Some of what I learned as a child about my cultural and religious heritage turns out to be fabricated—created history. Graduate school proved to be disconcerting as I learned to look for evidence and not just accept as true the stories I heard from authority figures. My worldview was shaken when I began to realize that some of what I thought was history is actually based on legendary events that were accepted as fact after people told and retold these stories.

Modern scholars probing into American history routinely discover new examples of the fabrication of events to bolster particular narratives told to make a group of people look better or worse. I regularly hear interviews where historians recount finding that yet another historical event never actually happened. Of course, we need to be cautious and realize that historians are not exempt from inventing their own narratives to bolster whatever ideology they promote. I used to share the following wisdom with my students: “You need to be open minded. But do not be so open minded that your brains fall out.” I don’t even remember where I first heard this maxim, but I adopted it as my own.

The point is that, when I recount what I discovered about how Orthodox Christians in Cyprus came to believe what they do about Bar-nabas, I do not stand aloof from the implications. They affect me. They affect you. Reading about the created history of others might pose no personal challenge if we keep a certain distance; but when we connect with their story, life gets more complicated. We might groan and ask, “When does it stop?”

The Difference between History and Legend

When I arrived in the eastern Mediterranean island of Cyprus in August 2011, I knew I had much to learn. I went to solve a puzzling mystery, and I did not know what I would find. My wife and I set out on an adventure that would involve not just examining ancient documents but also interacting with modern Cypriots to learn about their beliefs—and how their viewpoints are connected with the history of the island.

Every culture has its heroes, and sorting fact from fiction is a delicate task. Many people in the United States know more about the legendary George Washington than they do about the historical George Washington. Unfortunately, beliefs based on legends sometimes exert more influence on society than beliefs based on careful analysis of primary sources. Scholars studying George Washington analyze documents from Washington’s time, sort through the discrepancies they discover, and seek to reconstruct what probably happened. They also try to pinpoint when legends about Washington appeared and worked their way into America’s national heritage.

Research in this area abounds and is readily available in books and on the web.1 The story of Washington chopping down the cherry tree is a long-lasting legend created as a means of glorifying Washington and making him an example of virtuous living. Mason L. Weems, who published The Life of Washington in 1800, invented the story, and it first appeared in 1806 in the fifth edition of his biography of Washington. William H. McGuffey adopted the story and further embellished it in 1836 for his series of children’s books, called McGuffey Readers—which “remained in print for nearly a hundred years and sold over 120 million copies.”2 Because of Weems and McGuffey, the cherry tree legend became part of America’s cultural heritage, accepted as true by millions until pesky historians tracked down the origins of the story.

Writing history involves a complicated dance, with the past and the present as awkward partners. We all perceive the past through the lens of our own experience, so there is no such thing as a completely objective history. However, we can clean much of the grime off our cultural-heritage lens if we approach analysis openly and honestly. And sometimes outsiders notice details insiders miss, simply because outsiders do not share all of the same cultural assumptions.

Crossing Cultural Divides

My wife, Lynne, and I tried not to filter what we heard from people in Cyprus through our Western cultural lenses, but we were not completely successful. Neophytos, the Metropolitan of Morphou, told me that, until I quit thinking like a Westerner, I would never understand Eastern Orthodox beliefs.3

In part, I had to learn that, when conducting research on Barnabas, I was not just studying a figure from the past. For Cypriots, St. Barnabas is a living and active presence on the island today. I also learned that the more mystically oriented Orthodox leaders cared little about what I sought to find. The influential Metropolitan of Limassol, after listening patiently as I explained my research project, wished me well but added that the results of my study were of little concern to him. He said he was not much interested in history but in the mystical experience of faith—the divine transformation that comes through spiritual disciplines. I asked him if he thought my research was a waste of time. “No,” he replied, “but whatever you discover will not affect my faith in the least.”

In my October 9 journal entry, I wrote, “Living in Cyprus is for me a bit like standing with one foot in 2011 and the other in the earlier centuries of the church . . . I regularly hear stories from my new Orthodox friends about miraculous events. Today, after church, I heard about a saintly Cypriot woman who, when she was fourteen, was taken by the Virgin Mary to a sacred mountai...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• Abbreviations
• Chapter 1: Discovering Created History
• Chapter 2: The Apostle Barnabas in his Homeland of Cyprus
• Chapter 3: Barnabas the Negotiator of the New Testament
• Chapter 4: Early Creation of History about Barnabas
• Chapter 5: Creation of the Imperial Privileges
• Chapter 6: Development of the Imperial Privileges
• Chapter 7: Reversing the Created History of Barnabas
• Appendix A: Timeline of Events
• Appendix B: Laudatio Barnabae apostoli
• Bibliography