In 1960, Morton Smith, a scholar from Columbia University, claimed to have discovered a letter attributed to Clement of Alexandria, a notable early church figure. The letter contained remarkable assertions, including that two sections from the Gospel of Mark had been omitted, featuring Jesus in intimate, seemingly erotic relations with a young man. This revelation sparked significant controversy among biblical scholars, many of whom dismissed the manuscript as a forgery and labeled Smith as gay.

The legitimacy of the so-called 'Secret Mark' manuscript remains a heated topic in theological discussions. Its potential impact on biblical studies continues to be debated, often veering into discussions regarding Morton Smith's sexuality. A recent publication, The Secret Gospel of Mark by Geoffrey S. Smith and Brent C. Landau, claims to clarify the situation. They assert that Smith was indeed gay and that the 'Secret Mark' manuscript was forged by an unknown individual. Their reasoning suggests that Smith's sexual orientation made him overly credulous, leading to his acceptance of the manuscript without sufficient scrutiny.

However, I find myself questioning the basis of their claim that Morton Smith was gay.

No concrete evidence is provided. Geoffrey S. Smith and Brent C. Landau confidently state:

> “In our extensive interviews with individuals who were both friends and colleagues of Smith… it appears to have been widely known that Smith was gay. He was not ‘out’ in the sense of having a longstanding partner or making some other public declaration about his sexual identity… Nevertheless, most of his friends and colleagues did mention his sexuality in our conversations with them, which leads us to believe that Smith’s identity as a gay man was something of an ‘open secret’…”

Yet, I see no substantive proof supporting the assertion that Smith was gay. Upon contacting Geoffrey S. Smith for clarification on their sources, Landau responded:

> “I phrased this a bit inelegantly here, and I should have said ‘the apparent fact.’ My apologies for that flaw in my prose.”

These authors do not appear to have expertise in queer studies. Geoffrey S. Smith is an alumnus of Biola University, known for its staunchly anti-LGBT stance.

Brent C. Landau similarly lacks a background in gender or queer studies, leading me to perceive them as critics of a more Evangelical persuasion.

I reached out to acquaintances of Morton Smith for their insights into his sexual orientation. His former student and assistant, Tom Alwood, responded:

> “From the time I spent with him I would be more inclined to say he was asexual. But the rumor always was that he was gay. However, people often say that if you aren’t overtly heterosexual. He was never married and didn’t seem to have any close female friends. But then again I don’t think it matters one way or another to his scholarship.”

Shaye J.D. Cohen, Smith’s literary executor, shared:

> “Many people say that Morton Smith was a homosexual. I do not know on what basis this claim is made. I at least never saw Morton do anything, never heard Morton say anything, that would reveal his sexual proclivities.”

As I delve deeper into Morton Smith's biography, I consider myself adept at recognizing subtle hints about sexual orientation, perhaps more so than Evangelical scholars. Born Rupert Morton Smith in 1915, he was raised in Philadelphia as the sole child of a physician. His family was part of the New Church, which embraced progressive Christian values.

He graduated from Harvard in 1936 with a degree in English and subsequently attended Harvard Divinity School. During his Ph.D. studies, he spent time in Jerusalem, where he reportedly had a Jewish girlfriend. There are suggestions of a past romantic involvement with a Catholic woman, but he chose to prioritize his academic pursuits over marriage. He worked as an Episcopal priest in Baltimore and Boston from 1946 to 1950 while earning two Ph.D. degrees.

Smith held academic positions at several Ivy League institutions and was involved with Miriam Chesterman, who owned a furniture store in New York City, from late 1957 to 1958. Miriam's daughter, Ethne, later described her mother as “a recent widow, British-born, beautiful, vivacious and highly intelligent.”

While examining manuscripts at a monastery in Jerusalem, he came across the 'Secret Mark' letter. He returned to the U.S. and began teaching ancient history at Columbia University in 1958. After this period, there seems to be a notable absence of romantic relationships in his life. A colleague in Israel remarked in 1965 that Smith was “just an Anglican clergyman who had had an unsuccessful love affair and afterward condemned himself to bachelorhood.”

In person, Smith was often described as formal and impeccably dressed, but his writing was sometimes scathing. He appeared to harbor a strong aversion to conventional Christianity, even testifying against a Nativity display in a public school.

In his scholarly work, as noted in the Database of Classical Scholars, Smith was known for his harsh critiques of both Judaism and Christianity.

Smith's interpretation of the 'Secret Mark' letter suggested that erotic rituals might have been involved in the relationship between Jesus and the young man mentioned. While this interpretation could be seen as a forced reading, it aligns with early Christian descriptions of certain 'Gnostic' sects, which were often labeled as sexually permissive. However, Smith never explicitly labeled Jesus as 'homosexual', nor did he categorize the Carpocratians that way. The potential for such a reading existed but was not definitively stated.

When he presented the manuscript publicly, Smith anticipated backlash from the Christian community. In a 1973 interview with the New York Times, he expressed, “I’m reconciled to the attacks… Thank God I have tenure!”

Yet, the criticism was just beginning to mount. Scholars began scrutinizing Smith's personal life, especially given his unmarried status. Notes from 1983 by Catholic scholar Quentin Quesnell indicate discussions centered on supposed “psychological explanations” for the theory that Smith forged the manuscript. The focus shifted from the manuscript itself to Smith's sexuality, with speculation that his religious persona might have been a facade for his sexual identity.

As the logic unfolded, if 'Secret Mark' suggested homosexual undertones, then Morton Smith must have also been gay. This led to a whisper campaign within the academic community, as noted by Guy Stroumsa in 2008: “Smith’s homosexuality was widely speculated upon in the American academic community.”

As a result, Smith became increasingly secretive about his personal life, avoiding any disclosure. He recognized that his colleagues were eager to find any evidence to undermine his credibility. During his lifetime, he could have pursued legal action against any defamatory claims, which might have deterred critics. However, following his death, the onslaught of criticism intensified.

Jacob Neusner, a former student who had a falling out with Smith, initiated a campaign to tarnish his legacy. In 1993, Neusner published a scathing critique of his former mentor, labeling him “the nasty old fool” and dismissing his work as “anti-Christian propaganda.” He often ridiculed Smith for his alleged “homosexual Jesus” theory, highlighting any accusations against him while minimizing evidence of his contributions to scholarship.

Neusner’s critique included subtle insinuations about Smith's sexuality, stating, “Smith showed another face altogether, especially to young men.” This sentiment contrasts with Ethne H. Chesterman's view of Smith as “an inspiring, brilliant and intellectually honest mentor.”

The homophobic attacks from Christian scholars persisted. In 2005, Stephen C. Carlson, a Catholic attorney turned biblical scholar, published The Gospel Hoax, making a series of outlandish claims while heavily implying—though not explicitly stating—that Morton Smith was gay. In 2007, Peter Jeffery, a Christian music scholar, was more overt in The Secret Gospel of Mark Unveiled, offering questionable psychological analyses of Smith, claiming:

> “My impression is that Morton Smith was a man in great personal pain, even if (which I don’t know) he was usually able to hide this fact from the people who knew him.”

Ultimately, there has been a lack of evidence to substantiate claims regarding Morton Smith's sexual orientation. Instead, it appears that many Christian scholars sought a convenient narrative to dismiss the implications of the 'Secret Mark' manuscript.