I refrained from blogging about the James Cameron Jesus "documentary." I mean, really - who can top John Stewart's analysis?

For the record, I haven't heard any convincing arguments that the flick was anything more than elaborate marketing of some dubious speculation on biblical archaeology - a field that has faced more that its share of dubious discoveries in the last few years (Wait! I heard they found Jesus' brother! Uh, wait... maybe
not.) There was a smart piece in TIME this week about the erosion of academic standards in the age of blockbuster religion scholarship:

[Professor and best-selling author Bart] Ehrman, 51, says the dynamic of the academy has changed. "The generation that trained us would spend many years honing their discipline until they felt they could write their seminal work, maybe in their 50s," he says. "This generation is different. You publish as quickly as possible, create a sensation and get known [academically] that way." (Ehrman himself waited 10 years.)

Then there is what Publishers Weekly senior religion editor Lynn Garrett calls the Da Vinci Code effect. "Speculative histories were out there before Dan Brown wrote," says Garrett. "But they didn't make the best-seller lists and their authors didn't go on The Daily Show." Or receive a million-dollar paycheck, as was rumored in a recent case.

And by adopting a more journalistic standards, they have towed the journalists along in their wake - every badly-substantiated claim gets the double press treatment - breaking story and academic refutation. Ugh.

Rather than participate in it, I thought it might be fun to go spend the next evening with the gentlemen over at Opus Dei, where I was pretty sure what kind of reaction I'd hear. Opus Dei? You may remember them as the bad guys in the last kerfuffle about the family of Jesus. In the last year I've had the pleasure of crossing paths with their head of PR here in New York who, I think it's safe to say, had one of the worst American jobs of 2006.

He invited me to a worship service at the Opus Dei headquarters last night (in the sacred precinct of Murray Hill) and, heck, I went. I'm not a Catholic, and didn't quite know what to expect. Secret passages? Monks and lashings?

I must say, it was solemn and pretty tame. The evening was part of a monthly "retreat" that they give, which includes meditations, a recollection, and a speech from a (clearly nervous) lay member about spiritual responsibilities in daily life. There were no women (I understand that their "retreat" happens around the corner), and the men who filled the room in suits and cologne reminded me of nothing so much as the Kiwanis group my dad belongs to.

The oratory is pretty striking, about 12 pews that face a mural of the Marriage at Cana. Looks like maybe it's done by popular Christian painter Ron DiCianni? Anyway, during the service I tried to keep up with the Our Fathers and Hail Maries, but foolishly forgot my copy of How to Be a Perfect Stranger. You can imagine my delight when the men finally lit into something I knew - the Pange, Lingua of Thomas Aquinas. (I learned it a few years ago from a Jewish devotee of G.I.Gurdjieff - long story). Then I, uh, forgot how high it went and promptly embarrassed myself. God forgives all sins, no?

Anyway - over beer and peanuts, I finally got to mix a little with the Opus "guys". Reaction to the Cameron Jesus flick were predictably swift and critical. Garbage. Unbalanced. Not worth the time toTiVo it. Was I expecting anything else? Not really.

Well... I guess I was KIND of hoping to overhear the secret plot to slip strychnine in Cameron's martini. Maybe that save that for your second visit.