READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |
BOOK I
FROM THE PERSECUTION OF THE CHURCH BY NERO TO CONSTANTINE’S EDICT OF TOLERATION. A.D. 64-313.CHAPTER IV.
THE EARLY HERETICS.
Hegesippus and Clement of Alexandria have
been derided by the greatest of English historians as having stated that the
church was not polluted by schism or heresy until the reign of Trajan, or that
of Hadrian; and it is added, “We may observe, with much more propriety, that
during [the earlier] period the disciples of the Messiah were indulged in a
freer latitude, both of faith and practice, than has ever been allowed in
succeeding ages”. In reality, however, the fathers who are cited make no such assertion
as is here supposed; their words relate, not to the appearance of the first
symptoms of error, but to the distinct formation of bodies which at once
claimed the Christian name and held doctrines different from those of the
church. Nor has the remark which is offered by way of correction any other
truth than this,—that the measures of the church for the protection of her
members against erroneous teaching were taken only as the development of evil
made them necessary. The New Testament itself bears ample witness both to the
existence of false doctrine during the lifetime of the apostles, and to the
earnestness with which they endeavoured to
counteract it. Among the persons who are there censured by name, some appear to
be taxed with faults of practice only; but of others the opinions are
condemned. Thus it is said of Hymenaeus that he had “made shipwreck concerning
the faith”; that he had “erred concerning the truth, saying that the
resurrection is past already”; and Alexander and Philetus are
included in the same charges. In St. Paul’s Epistles, besides those passages
which bear a controversial character on their surface, there are many in which
a comparison with the language of early heresy may lead us to discern such a
character. And the same may be observed of other apostolical writings; those of
St. John especially are throughout marked by a reference to prevailing errors,
and to the language in which these were clothed. And long before the probable
date of any Christian scripture, we meet with him who has always been regarded
as the father of heresy—the magician Simon of Samaria.
In reading of the ancient heretics we must
remember that the accounts of them come from their enemies; and our own
experience will show us how easily misunderstanding or misrepresentation of an
opponent may creep in even where there is no unfair intention. We must not be
too ready to believe evil; we must beware of confounding the opinions of
heresiarchs with those of their followers; and especially we must beware of too
easily supposing that the founders of sects were unprincipled or profligate
men, since by so doing we should not only, in many cases, be wrong as to the
fact, but should forego an important lesson. The “fruits” by which “false
prophets” shall be known are not to be sought in their own personal conduct
(which may be inconsistent, either for the worse or for the better, with their
teaching), but in the results which follow from their principles,—in their
developed doctrines and maxims, and in those of their disciples.
But, on the other hand, if the ancients, and
those who have implicitly followed them in treating such subjects, must be read
with caution, it is no less necessary to be on our guard against the theories
and statements of some moderns, who are ready to sympathize with every reputed
heretic, to represent him as only too far elevated by genius and piety above
the church of his own day, and conjecturally to fill up the gaps of his system,
to explain away its absurdities, and to harmonize its contradictions. A writer
who endeavours to enter into the mind of a
heresiarch, and to trace the course of his ideas, is, indeed, more likely to
help us towards an understanding of the matter than one who sets out with the
presumption that the man's deliberate purpose was to vent detestable
blasphemies, and to ruin the souls of his followers; and we may often draw
instruction or warning from Beausobre or
Neander, where the orthodox vehemence of Epiphanius or Baronius would
only tempt us to question whether opinions so extravagant as those which are
imputed to heretical parties could ever have been really held by any one.
Yet we must not assume that things cannot have been because the idea of them
appears monstrous; we must remember that even the most ingenious conjecture may
be mistaken; and, if the conclusions of a system as to faith or morals are
abominable, we may not speak of such a system with admiration or indulgence on
account of any poetical beauty or philosophical depth which may appear to be
mixed up with its errors.
The systems of the earliest heretical teachers
were for the most part of the class called Gnostic,—a name which implies
pretensions to more than ordinary knowledge. It is disputed whether St. Paul
intended to refer to this sense of the word in his warning against “knowledge
falsely so called”; but although it seems most likely that the peculiar use of
the term did not begin until later, the thing itself certainly existed in the
time of the apostles. The Gnostics were for the most part so remote in their
tenets from the Christian belief that they would now be classed rather with
utter aliens from the Gospel than with heretics; but in early times the title
of heretic was given to all who in any way whatever introduced the name of
Christ into their systems, so that, as has been remarked, if Mahomet had
appeared in the second century, Justin Martyr or Irenaeus would have spoken of
him as an heretic. On looking at the strange opinions which are thus brought
before us, we may wonder how they could ever have been adopted by any to whom
the Christian faith had been made known. But a consideration of the
circumstances will lessen our surprise; Gnosticism is in truth not to be
regarded as a corruption of Christianity, but as an adoption of some Christian
elements into a system of different origin.
At the time when the Gospel appeared, a
remarkable mixture had taken place in the existing systems of religion and
philosophy. The Jews had during their captivity become acquainted with
the Chaldaean and Persian doctrines : many
of them had remained in the east, and a constant communication was kept up
between the descendants of these and their brethren of the Holy Land. Thus the
belief of the later Jews had been much tinged with oriental ideas, especially
as to angels and spiritual beings. The prevailing form of Greek philosophy—the
Platonic—had, from the first, contained elements of eastern origin; and in
later days the intercourse of nations had led to a large adoption of foreign
additions. The great city of Alexandria, in particular, which was afterwards to
be the cradle of Gnosticism, became a centre of
philosophical speculations. In its schools were represented the doctrines of
Egypt, of Greece, of Palestine, and indirectly those of Persia and Chaldaea—themselves affected by the systems of India and
the further east. The prevailing tone of mind was eclectic; all religions were
regarded as having in them something divine, while no one was supposed to
possess a full and sufficient revelation. Hence ideas were borrowed from one to
fill up the deficiency of another. Hence systems became so intermingled, and
were so modified by each other, that learned men have differed as to the origin
of Gnosticism—some referring it chiefly to Platonism, while others trace it to
oriental sources. Hence, too, we can understand how Christianity came to be
combined with notions so strangely unlike itself. The same eclectic principle
which had produced the fusion of other systems, led speculative minds to adopt
something from the Gospel; they took only so much as was suitable for their
purpose, and they interpreted this at will. The substance of each system is
Platonic, or oriental, or derived from the later Judaism; the Scriptural terms
which are introduced are used in senses altogether different from that which
they bear in Christian theology.
The especial characteristic of the Gnostics was
(as has been stated) a pretension to superior knowledge. By this the more
elevated spirits were to be distinguished from the vulgar, for whom faith and
traditional opinion were said to be sufficient; the Gnostics sometimes
complained of it as an injustice that they were excluded from the communion of
the church, whereas they were willing to leave the multitude in possession of
the common creed, and only claimed for themselves the privilege of
understanding doctrine in an inner and more refined sense. On such a principle
the Old Testament had been interpreted by Philo of Alexandria, the type of a
Platonizing Jew; and now the principle was applied to the New Testament, from
which texts were produced by way of sanction for it. As for the older
Scriptures, the Gnostics either rejected them altogether, or perverted them by
an unlimited license of allegorical explanation.
We find, as common to all the Gnostic systems, a
belief in one supreme God, dwelling from eternity in the pleroma, or
fullness of light. From him proceed forth successive generations
of aeons, or spiritual beings, the chief of
which appear from their names to be impersonated attributes of the Deity; and
in proportion as these emanations are more remote from the primal source, the
likeness of his perfections in them becomes continually fainter. Matter is
regarded as eternal, and as essentially evil. Out of it the world was formed,
not by the supreme God, but by the Demiurge—a being who is represented by some
heresiarchs as merely a subordinate and unconscious instrument of the divine
will, but by others as positively malignant, and hostile to the Supreme. This
Demiurge (or creator) was the national God of the Jews—the God of the Old
Testament; according, therefore, as he is viewed in each system, the Mosaic
economy is either acknowledged as preparatory to a higher dispensation or
rejected as evil. Christ was sent into the world to deliver man from the
tyranny of the Demiurge. But the Christ of Gnosticism was neither very God nor
very man; his spiritual nature, as being an emanation from the supreme God, was
necessarily inferior to its original; and, on the other hand, an emanation from
God could not dwell in a material, and consequently evil, body. Either,
therefore, Jesus was a mere man, on whom the aeon Christ
descended at his baptism, to forsake him again before his crucifixion; or the
body with which Christ seemed to be clothed was a phantom, and all his actions
were only in appearance.
Since matter was evil, the Gnostic was required
to overcome it; but here arose an important practical difference among the
sectaries; for while some of them sought the victory by a high ascetic
abstraction from the things of sense, the baser kind professed to show their
knowledge by wallowing in impurity and excess. The same view as to the evil
nature of matter led to a denial of the resurrection of the body. The Gnostic
could admit no other than a spiritual resurrection; the object of his
philosophy was to emancipate the spirit from its gross and material prison; at
death, the soul of the perfect Gnostic, having already risen in baptism, was to
be gathered into the bosom of God, while such souls as yet lacked their full
perfection were to work it out in a course of transmigrations. The contest of
good with evil (it was taught) is to end in the victory of good. Every spark of
life which originally came from God will be purified and restored, will return
to its source, and will dwell with him for ever in the pleroma.
After this general sketch of the Gnostic
doctrines, we may proceed to notice in detail a few of the most prominent among
the early heretical systems.
First among the precursors of Gnosticism stands
Simon, usually styled Magus or the Sorcerer, a native of the Samaritan village
of Gittum, as to whom our information is partly
derived from Scripture itself. He is supposed to have studied at Alexandria
and, on returning to his native country, he advanced high spiritual
pretensions, “giving out that himself was some great one”, and being generally
acknowledged by the Samaritans as “the great power of God”. Simon belonged to a
class of adventurers not uncommon in his day, who addressed themselves
especially to that desire of intercourse with a higher world which was then
widely felt. Their doctrines were a medley of Jewish, Greek, and Oriental
notions; they affected mysteries and revelations; they practiced the arts of
conjuration and divination; and it would seem that in many of them there was a
mixture of conscious imposture with self-delusion and superstitious credulity.
Simon’s reception of baptism, and his attempt to buy the privilege of
conferring the Holy Ghost, may be interpreted as tokens of a belief that the
apostles, through a knowledge of higher secrets or a connection with superior intelligences,
possessed in a greater degree the same theurgic power to which he himself
pretended. The feeling of awe with which he was struck by St. Peter’s reproof
and exhortation would seem to have been of very short continuance.
It is said that he afterwards roved through
various countries, choosing especially those which the Gospel had not yet
reached, and endeavouring to preoccupy the
ground by his own system, into which the name of Christ was now introduced;
that he bought at Tyre a beautiful prostitute, named Helena, who became the
companion of his wanderings; that in the reign of Claudius he went to Rome, where
he acquired great celebrity, and was honoured with
a statue in the island of the Tiber; that he there disputed with St. Peter and
St. Paul (a circumstance which, if true, must be referred to a later visit, in
the reign of Nero); that he attempted to fly in the air, and was borne up by
his familiar demons, until at the prayer of St. Peter he fell to the earth; and
that he died soon after, partly of the hurt which he had received, and partly
of vexation at his discomfiture. Fabulous as parts of this story evidently are,
it is yet possible that they may have had some foundation. There is no apparent
reason for denying that Simon may have visited Rome, and may there have had
contests with the two great apostles; and even the story of his flying may have
arisen from an attempt which was really made by a Greek adventurer in the reign
of Nero.
Simon is said to have taught that God existed
from eternity in the depth of inaccessible light; that from him proceeded the
Thought or Conception of his mind (Ennoia); that from
God and the Ennoia emanated by successive
generations pairs of male and female aeons.
The Ennoia, issuing forth from the pleroma,
produced a host of angels, by whom the world was made; and these angels, being
ignorant of God and unwilling to acknowledge any author of their being, rose
against their female parent, subjected her to various indignities, and
imprisoned her in a succession of material bodies. Thus at one time she had
animated the form of the beautiful wife of Menelaus; and at last she had taken
up her abode in that of the Tyrian Helena, the companion of Simon. The Ennoia herself remained throughout a pure spiritual
essence as at the first; the pollutions and degradations of the persons in whom
she had dwelt attached only to their material bodies, and were a part of the
oppressions inflicted on the divine aeon.
There are various statements as to the character
which Simon claimed for himself. It has been said that he professed to be the
supreme God, who (according to Simon) had revealed himself to the Samaritans as
the Father, to the Jews as the Son, and to the Gentiles as the Holy Ghost; but
it would seem rather that by professing to be the “great power of God” he meant
to identify himself with the chief male aeon of
his system.
He taught that man was held in subjection by the
angels who created the world; that not only were the Mosaic dispensation and
the Old Testament prophecies to be referred to these, but the received
distinctions of right and wrong were invented by them for the purpose of
enslaving mankind and consequently that those who should trust in Simon and
Helena need not concern themselves with the observance of any moral rules,
since they were to be saved, not by works of righteousness, but by grace. Simon
professed that he himself had descended from the highest heaven for the purpose
of rescuing the Ennoia—“the lost sheep”, as he
termed her—from the defilement of her fleshly prison, of revealing himself to
men, and delivering them from the yoke of the angels. In passing through the
spheres, he had in each assumed a suitable form; and thus on earth he appeared
as a man. He was the same aeon who had been
known as Jesus, the Messiah. The history of our Lord’s life and death he
explained on the docetic principle. The resurrection of the body was denied;
but as the soul, when set free, must pass through several spheres on its way to
the pleroma, and as the angels of those spheres had the power of impeding
its flight, it was necessary to propitiate them, evil as they were in
themselves, by sacrifices.
According to St. Epiphanius, Simon said that
Helena was the Holy Spirit. As, then, that Person of the Godhead was held by
him to have enlightened the Gentiles— (not, however, in the Christian sense,
but by means of the Greek philosophy)—Helena was thus identified with the Greek
goddess of wisdom, and was represented and worshipped in the character of
Minerva, while Simon received like honours under
the form of Jupiter.
The followers of Simon were divided into various
sects, which are said to have been addicted to necromancy and other magical
arts, and to have carried out in practice his doctrine of the indifference of
actions. Justin Martyr states that in his day (about A.D. 140) Simon was
worshipped as the chief God by almost all the Samaritans, and
had adherents in other countries; but the heresy declined so rapidly that
Origen, about a century later, questions whether it had in the whole world so
many as thirty adherents.
Passing over Menander, (whose doctrines were not
so unlike those of his master, Simon, as to require a separate detail), and the
Nicolaitans (as to whom nothing is known with certainty, beyond the
denunciation of them in the Apocalypses), the next considerable name which we
meet with is that of Cerinthus, who rose into notoriety in the reign of
Domitian.
Cerinthus was a native of Judaea, and, after
having studied at Alexandria, established himself as a teacher in his own
country; but at a later time he removed to Ephesus, as being a more favourable scene for the diffusion of his opinions.
St. John, who had been confronted with the father of heresy in the earliest
days of the Gospel, was reserved for a contest with Cerinthus in the church
over which he had long presided; both in his Gospel and in his Epistles a
reference to the errors of this heresiarch appears to be strongly marked.
Unlike his predecessors, Cerinthus was content to be a teacher, without
claiming for himself any place in his scheme. This was a link between the
opposite systems of Judaism and Gnosticism, and would seem to have been in
itself inconsistent, although we have no means of judging how the inventor
attempted to reconcile its elements. He taught that the world was made by an
angel, remote from the supreme God, limited in capacity and in knowledge,
ignorant of the Supreme, and yet unconsciously serving him. To this angel, and
others of the same order, Cerinthus referred the Law and the Prophets; the Old
Testament, therefore, was not in the Cerinthian system regarded as evil, but as
imperfect and subordinate. The nature of the Demiurge fixed a level above which
the mass of the Jewish people could not rise; but the elect among them had
attained to a higher knowledge. Jesus was represented as a real man, born in
the usual way of Joseph and Mary, and chosen by God to be the Messiah on
account of his eminent righteousness; the aeon Christ
descended on him at his baptism, revealing the Most High to him, and enduing
him with the power of miracles, to be exercised for the confirmation of his
doctrine. The Demiurge, jealous of finding his power thus invaded, stirred up
the Jewish rulers to persecute Jesus; but before the crucifixion the aeon Christ returned to the pleroma. By some it
is said that Cerinthus admitted the resurrection of Jesus; by others, that he
expected it to take place at the commencement of the millennium, when the human
body was to be reunited with the Christ from heaven. As it appears certain that
Cerinthus allowed the resurrection of the body, he cannot have shared in the
Gnostic views as to the inherently evil nature of matter.
Although Christ had revealed the true spiritual
Judaism, it was said that the outward preparatory system was to be retained in
part during the present imperfect state of things; Cerinthus, therefore,
required the observance of such Jewish usages as Jesus had sanctioned by
Himself submitting to them. The only part of the New Testament which he
received was a mutilated Gospel of St. Matthew.
The doctrine of an earthly reign of Christ with
his saints for a thousand years has been referred to Cerinthus as its author;
and it has been said that his conceptions of the millennial happiness were
grossly sensual. These assertions, however (which rest on the authority of
Caius, a Roman presbyter, who wrote about the year 210), have been much
questioned. It seems clear that the millenarian opinions which soon after
prevailed in the church were not derived from Cerinthus, and that it was a
controversial artifice to throw odium on them by tracing them to so
discreditable a source. Nor, even if the morality of Cerinthus were as bad as
his opponents represent it, can we well suppose him to have connected the
notion of licentious indulgence with a state of bliss which was to have Christ
for its sovereign.
While the Gnostics, imbued with the ideas
of vastness and complexity which are characteristic of
oriental religions, looked down on Christianity as too simple, it had
also to contend with enemies of an opposite kind. We very early find
traces of a Judaizing tendency; and although the middle course adopted by
the council of Jerusalem, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit,
was calculated to allay the differences which had arisen as to the
obligation of the Mosaic law on those who had embraced the faith of Christ,
oppositions on the side of Judaism often recur in the books of the New
Testament.
This Judaism at length issued in the formation
of distinct sects. The name of Nazarenes, which had originally been applied to
all Christians, became appropriated to the party which maintained that the law
was binding on Christians of Jewish race, but did not wish to enforce it on
Gentiles; while those who insisted on its obligation as universal were styled
Ebionites. The Nazarenes are generally supposed to have been orthodox, and to
have been acknowledged as such by the church; the Ebionites were unquestionably
heretical.
The name of the latter party has been variously
derived from that of a supposed founder, and from a Hebrew word which
signifies poor. The existence of Ebion is
now generally disbelieved; but there remains the question how the title
of poor came to be attached to the sect,—whether it was given by
opponents, with a reference to the meagreness and
beggarly character of their doctrines; or whether it was assumed by themselves,
as significant of their voluntary poverty, and with an allusion to the
beatitude of the “poor in spirit”. The formation of the sect, as such, is
dated by some in the reign of Domitian, or earlier. By others it is supposed
that the separation of both Ebionites and Nazarenes from the church took place
as late as A.D. 136-8, and that it was caused by the adoption of Gentile usages
in the church of Jerusalem; while a third view connects the schism of the
Ebionites with the statement of Hegesippus, that having been disappointed
in aspiring to the bishopric of Jerusalem, began to corrupt the church—a
supposition by which the origin of Ebionism would be fixed about the year 107.
In opposition to the Gnostics, the Ebionites
held that the world was the work of God himself. As to the person of Christ,
although some of them are said to have admitted his miraculous birth, while
they denied his Godhead and his pre-existence, they for the most part
supposed him to be a mere man, the offspring of Joseph and Mary, and chosen to
be the Messiah and Son of God because he alone of men had fulfilled the law.
They believed that this high destination was unknown to him, until at his baptism
it was revealed by Elijah, in the person of John the Baptist; and that he then
received a heavenly influence, which forsook him again before his crucifixion.
It would seem that the Ebionites were divided as
to their view of the Old Testament. Some of them supposed Christianity to
differ from the law only by the addition of certain features; m while the
adepts regarded it as a restoration of the genuine Mosaic system, which they
supposed to have been corrupted in the Hebrew Scriptures. These more advanced
members of the sect considered Moses to be the only true prophet; they
rejected, not only the later Jewish traditions, but the whole of the Old
Testament except the Pentateuch; and even they did not admit it as the work of
Moses himself, but, by ascribing it to reporters, who were supposed to
have wilfully or ignorantly corrupted his
words, they found a pretext for rejecting so much of it as did not fall in with
their principles. Of the New Testament they admitted no part, except a Hebrew
Gospel of St. Matthew, in which the account of our Lord’s birth was omitted.
They relied much on apocryphal scriptures, and were especially hostile to St.
Paul.
Although some corruptions of morals are
attributed to the later Ebionites, the practice of the sect in its earlier days
was undoubtedly strict. Some parties among them renounced all property, and
abstained not only from the flesh of animals, but from their produce, such as
eggs and milk. In their worship and polity they affected Jewish usages and
terms; they practiced circumcision and ceremonial ablutions; they rigidly
observed the Jewish Sabbath; they had synagogues, rulers, and the like. They
celebrated the Eucharist with unleavened bread, and used only water in the cup.
Like the Cerinthians, they held the doctrine of
an earthly reign of Christ, who was to make Jerusalem the seat of his power, to
subdue all enemies, and to raise the Jewish kingdom to a splendour before unknown.
Ebionism continued to exist in Syria
and Peraea as late as the end of the fourth century.
Menander, who has been mentioned as the
successor of Simon Magus, is said to have been the master of two noted
heretics, who may be considered as the founders respectively of the Syrian and
of the Alexandrian Gnosticism—Saturninus and Basilides.
Saturninus, who was born at Antioch, and there
established his school, taught that the supreme God, or “Unknown Father”,
produced a multitude of spiritual beings; that in the lowest gradation of the
spiritual world, close on the borders which separate the realm of light from
the chaos of matter were seven angels, the rulers of the planets; and that
these angels took a portion from the material mass and shaped it into a world,
the regions of which they divided among themselves—the God of the Jews being their
chief. A bright shape, let down for a moment from the distant source of light,
and then withdrawn, excited new desires and projects in them: unable as they
were to seize and to fix the dazzling image, they endeavoured to
frame a man after its likeness; but their creature was only able to grovel on
the earth like a worm, until the Father in pity sent down to it a spark of his
own divine life. But in opposition to the elect race, Satan, the lord of
Matter, with whom the angels carried on an unceasing warfare, produced an
unholy race, and the elect, while they sojourn in this world, are exposed to
assaults from him and from his agents, both human and spiritual. The Old
Testament was in part given by the seven angels, especially by the God of the
Jews, and in part by Satan. In order to deliver the elect from their enemies,
and also from their subjection to the God of the Jews and the other planetary
angels, who aimed at establishing an independent kingdom, the Father sent down
the aeon Nous (Mind), or Christ, clothed
with a phantastic body. At the consummation of all things, according
to Saturninus, the bodies of the elect were to be resolved into their
elements, while the soul was to re-enter into the bosom of the unknown Father,
from whom it had been derived.
The precepts of Saturninus were
strictly ascetic; he forbade marriage and the propagation of mankind; but it
would seem that the more rigid observances were required only of the highest
grade among his followers. The sect did not extend beyond Syria, and soon came
to an end.
Basilides, who became conspicuous about the
year 125, is said to have been, like Saturninus, a Syrian; but
it was at Alexandria that he fixed himself, and the leading character of
his system was Egyptian. He taught that from the Supreme God were evolved by
successive generation seven intelligences (which were, in fact, personified
attributes)—Understanding, Word, Thought, Wisdom, Power, Righteousness, and
Peace. These gave birth to a second order of spirits; the second to a third; and
the course of emanations continued until there were three hundred and
sixty-five orders, each consisting of seven spirits, and each with a heaven of
its own; while every heaven, with its inhabitants, was an inferior antitype of
that immediately above it. The number of the heavens was expressed in the Greek
notation by the letters of the word Abraxas or Abrasax, in which the most approved interpretations derive
from the Coptic, and explain as meaning new word or sacred word. The same name
was used also to denote the providence which directs the universe—not the
supreme God as he is in himself (since he is represented as “not to be named”),
but God in so far as he is manifested, or the collective hierarchy of
emanations
The angels of the lowest heaven (which is that
which is visible from earth) formed the world and its inhabitants after a
pattern shown to them by the aeon Sophia or
Wisdom. The chief angel of this order, who is called the Archon, or Ruler, was
the God of the Jews, while the other regions of the world were divided by lot
among his brother angels; and, in consequence of the Archon’s desire to exalt
his own people above the rest of mankind, the other angels had stirred up the
Gentiles to enmity against the Jews. The Pentateuch was given by the Archon:
the prophecies came from the other angels.
Man received from the creative angels a soul
which is the seat of the senses and of the passions; and in addition to this
the supreme God bestowed on him a rational and higher soul, which the inferior
soul is continually endeavouring to weaken.
Although Basilides cannot rightly be described as a dualist, he held that
throughout all nature there had been an encroachment of evil on good, “like
rust on steel”, and that the object of the present state was to enable the
souls of men (which, as they had come from God, could never perish, but must
return to him) to disengage themselves from the entanglements of evil. The
knowledge of God had become faint among men; the Archon himself, although he
had served as an instrument of the Supreme in giving the Law, was yet ignorant
of its true character—of its spiritual significancy and its preparatory
office—which the spiritual among the Jews had alone been able to discern. In
order, then, to enlighten mankind, to deliver them from the limited system of
the Archon, and enable them to rise towards the Supreme, the
first-begotten aeon, Nous or Understanding,
descended on Jesus, the holiest of men, at his baptism and by this
manifestation the Archon learnt for the first time his own real place in the
scale of the universe. The later Basilidians represented
him as exasperated by the discovery, so that he instigated the Jews to
persecute Jesus; but it is a question whether the founder of the sect shared in
this view, a or whether he supposed the Archon to have reverently acquiesced in
the knowledge of his inferior position.
The doctrine of an atonement was inconsistent
with the principles of Basilides. He allowed no other justification than that
of advancement in sanctification, and laid it down that everyone suffers for
his own sins. God, he said, forgives no sins but such as are done unwillingly
or in ignorance; all other sins must be expiated, and, until the expiation be
complete, the soul must pass, under the guidance of its guardian angels,
through one body after another,—not only human bodies, but also those of the lower
creatures. And thus such suffering as cannot be traced to any visible cause is
to be regarded as the purgation of sin committed in some former existence,
while the death of the innocent may be the punishment of germs of evil which
would have grown up if life had been continued. On this principle Basilides
even accounted for the sufferings of the man Jesus himself; and by such
theories he intended to justify the providential government of the world, as to
which he is reported to have declared that he would “rather say anything than
find fault with Providence”.
While the Gnostics in general spoke of faith and
knowledge as opposites, Basilides taught that faith must run through the whole
spiritual progress, and that the degrees of knowledge increase in proportion as
faith becomes fitted to receive them. He divided his disciples into several
grades; in order to admission among the highest adepts, a silence of five years
was required. The authorities on which Basilides chiefly relied were some
prophecies which bore the names of Ham, Parchor, Barcobas, and Barcoph, with
an esoteric tradition which he professed to derive from St. Matthias, and
from Glaucias, an interpreter of St. Peter. He
dealt with the New Testament in an arbitrary way; he did not reject St. Paul,
but placed him below St. Peter, and declared some of the epistles ascribed to
him to be spurious.
This system became more popular than any that
had preceded it, and St. Jerome informs us that even in the fifth century Basilidianism continued to exist. The doctrines of the
sect, however, were much corrupted in the course of time. The view of Judaism
was altered, so that the Archon came to be regarded as opposed to the
supreme God; and consequently the Gnostic was at liberty to trample on all
that had proceeded from the inferior power, to disregard all the laws of
morality. Instead of the doctrine which Basilides held in common with some
other sectaries, that the aeon who
descended on Jesus at baptism forsook him before his crucifixion, a strange
docetic fancy was introduced—that his body was phantastical,
and that he transferred his own form to Simon of Cyrene, who suffered in his
stead on the cross, while Jesus in the form of Simon stood by and derided the
executioners. The Gnostic, therefore, was not to confess the crucifixion, but
those who should own it were still under bondage to the Archon. The later Basilidians made no scruple of eating idol sacrifices,
of taking part in heathen rites and festivities; they denied their faith in
time of persecution, and mocked at martyrdom as a folly, inasmuch as the person
for whose sake it was borne was, according to their doctrine, merely the
crucified Simon. They were also addicted to magic; he, it was said, who should
master the whole system, who should know the names and origin of all the
angels, would become superior, invisible, and incomprehensible to them. Most of
the gems which are found inscribed with the mystical Abraxas are supposed to
have been used by the sect as amulets or talismans, although it is certain that
some of these symbols were purely heathen.
Of all the Gnostic leaders Valentinus was
the most eminent for ability; his system was distinguished beyond the
rest for its complex and elaborate character, and it surpassed them all in
popularity.
Valentinus is supposed to have been of Jewish
descent, but was a native of Egypt, and studied at Alexandria. He appears to
have been brought up as a Christian, or at least to have professed Christianity
in early life; and hence his doctrine, with all its wildness, had a greater
infusion of scriptural language and ideas than those of the older Gnostic
teachers. Tertullian asserts that he became a heresiarch on being disappointed
of a bishopric; but it does not appear in what stage of his career the disappointment
occurred, and the truth of the story has been altogether questioned. It was
about the year 140 that he visited Rome, where Irenaeus states that he remained
from the pontificate of Hyginus to that of Anicetus. At Rome, where the church,
in its simple and severe orthodoxy, was less tolerant of novelties than that
from which Valentinus had come, he was twice excommunicated; and on his final
exclusion he retired to Cyprus, where he wrought out and published his system.
His death is supposed to have taken place about 160,—whether in Cyprus or at
Rome is uncertain.
In his doctrines Valentinus appears to have
borrowed from the religions of Egypt and of Persia, from the Cabala, from
Plato, Pythagoras, and the Hesiodic theogony. He supposed a first principle,
self-existent and perfect, to whom he gave the name of Bythos (i.e.
unfathomable depth). This being, who from eternity had existed in repose,
at length resolved to manifest himself; from him and the Ennoia or Conception of his mind, who was also
named Charis (Grace), or Sige (Silence), were produced a
pair of aeons,—the male
styled Nous (Understanding), or Monogenes (Only-begotten);
the female, Aletheia (Truth).
From these, by successive generations, emanated
two other pairs,—Logos (the Word, or Reason)
and Zoe (Life); Anthropos (Man) and Ecclesia (the
Church). Thus was composed the first grade of beings—the ogdoad or
octave. Next, from Logos and Zoe were produced five pairs of aeons,—the decad; and then,
from Anthropos and Ecclesia, six pairs, —the dodecad;
making up in all the number of thirty. In addition to these there was an
unwedded aeon, named Horos (Boundary),
or Stauros (the Cross), the offspring
of Bythos and Sige, whose office it
was to enforce the principle of limitation, and keep every existence in its
proper place.
The first-begotten, Nous, alone was capable of
comprehending the supreme Father. The other aeons envied
his knowledge, and in proportion to their remoteness from the source was the
vehemence of their desire to fathom it. Sophia (Wisdom), the last of
the thirty, filled with an uncontrollable eagerness, issued forth from the
pleroma, with the intention of soaring up to the original of her being; but she
was in danger of being absorbed into the infinity of his nature, or of being
lost in the boundless void without, when Horos led her back to the
sphere which she had so rashly forsaken. Nous now, by the providence of Bythos, produced a new pair of aeons—Christ
and the Holy Spirit. Christ taught the elder aeons that Bythos was incomprehensible—that they could only know
him through the Only-begotten, and that the happiness of every being was to
rest content with such measure of light as had been allotted to it; the Spirit
established equality among them, and taught them to unite in glorifying the
Supreme. Harmony was restored, and all the aeons combined
to produce Jesus (or Saviour), the flower of the
pleroma, endowed by each with the most precious gift which he could contribute.
With him were also produced a host of attendant angels.
But while Sophia was on her flight beyond the
pleroma, her longings had, without the co-operation of her partner Theletos (Will), given birth to an abortive,
shapeless, and imperfect being called by the name of Achamoth. This
being remained shut out from the pleroma, and in utter darkness; when Christ,
taking pity on her, bestowed on her a form, and showed her a momentary glimpse
of the celestial brightness. Achamoth endeavoured to
approach the light, but was repelled by Horos. On this she was seized with
violent agitations; sometimes she smiled at the remembrance of the glorious
vision; sometimes she wept at her exclusion. Her emotions acted on the inert
and formless mass of matter; from her turning towards the source of light was
produced psychic existence; from her grief at being left in darkness and
vacuity, from her fear lest life should be withdrawn from her, as the light had
been, was produced material existence. Among the material productions were
Satan and his angels; among the psychic was the Demiurge. Achamoth turns
in supplication to the Christ, who sends down to her the aeon Jesus, attended by his angels, and equipped with
the power of the whole pleroma. Jesus enlightens her and calms her agitation;
from the brightness of his angels she conceives, and gives birth to pneumatic
or spiritual existence. The Demiurge sets to work on the surrounding chaos,
separates the psychic from the material elements, and out of the former builds
seven heavens, of which the highest is his own sphere, while each of the others
is committed to a superintendent angel. He then makes man, bestowing on him a
psychic soul and body; but Achamoth, without the knowledge of the
Demiurge, implants in the new creature a spark of spiritual nature; and the
creator and his angels stand amazed on discovering that their workmanship has
in it the element of something higher than themselves.
The Demiurge becomes jealous of man. He places
him under a narrow and oppressive law; and, when man breaks this, he thrusts
him down from the third heaven, or paradise, to earth, and envelopes his
psychic body in a “coat of skin”—a fleshly prison, subjecting the man to the
bonds of matter (for thus Valentinus explained Genesis III. 21). All this,
however, happened through the providence of the Supreme, whose design it was
that, by entering into the world of matter, the spiritual element should become
the means of its destructions
The Demiurge knew of nothing superior to
himself; he had acted as the instrument of Bythos,
but unconsciously, and, supposing himself to be the original of the universe,
he instructed the Jewish prophets to proclaim him as the only God. In the
writings of the prophets, accordingly, Valentinus professed to distinguish
between the things which they had uttered by the inspiration of the limited
Demiurge, and those which, without being themselves aware of it, they had
derived from a higher source. The Demiurge taught the prophets to promise a
Messiah according to his own conceptions; he framed this Messiah of a psychic
soul with a psychic and immaterial body, capable of performing human actions,
yet exempt from human feelings; and to these elements, without the knowledge of
his maker, was added a pneumatic soul from the world above. This “nether Christ”
was born of the Virgin Mary—passing through her “as water through a tube”,
without taking anything of her substance; he ate and drank, but derived no
nourishment from his earthly food. For thirty years—a period which had
reference to the number of inhabitants in the pleromas—he lived as a pattern of
ascetic righteousness, until at his baptism the aeon Jesus
descended on him, with the design of fulfilling the most exalted meaning of
prophecy, which the Demiurge had not understood; and then the Demiurge became
aware of the higher spiritual world, and gladly yielded himself as an
instrument for the advancement of the Messiah’s kingdom.
Valentinus divided men into three classes,
represented by Cain, Abel, and Seth respectively—the material, who could not
attain to knowledge, or be saved; the spiritual, who could not be lost; and the
psychic, who might be saved or lost, according to their works. Heathenism was
said to be material, Judaism and the Christianity of the church to be psychic,
and Gnosticism to be spiritual; y but it was not denied that individuals might
be either above or below the level of the systems which they professed. Among
the Jews, in particular, Valentinus held that there had always been a class of
lofty spiritual natures, which rose above the limits of the old dispensation.
The Demiurge had discerned the superior virtue of these, and had rewarded them
by making them prophets and kings, while he ignorantly imagined that their
goodness was derived from himself.
The pure truth was for the first time revealed
to mankind by the coming of Christ. To the spiritual his mission was for the
purpose of enlightenment; their nature is akin to the pleroma, and they are to
enter into it through knowledge, which unites them with Christ. But for the
psychic a different redemption was necessary; and this was wrought out by the
suffering of the psychic Messiah, who before his crucifixion was abandoned, not
only by the aeon Jesus, but by his own
spiritual soul. Valentinus, therefore, differed from Basilides and others by
allowing a kind of atonement; but his doctrine on this point was very unlike
that of the church, inasmuch as he did not truly acknowledge either the divinity
or the humanity of the Saviour.
Christ, it was held, enters into connection with
all natures, in order that each may rise to a bliss suitable to its capacity.
At baptism the psychic class obtain the forgiveness of their sins, with
knowledge and power to master the material elements which cleave to them; while
the spiritual are set free from the dominion of the Demiurge, are incorporated
into the pleroma, and each enters into fellowship with a corresponding angelic
being in the world above. The courses of the two classes were to be throughout
distinct. For the psychics, faith was necessary, and, in order to produce it,
miracles were requisite; but the spiritual were above the need of such
assistances : they were to be saved, not by faith but by knowledge—a doctrine
which among the later Valentinians became the warrant for all manner of
licentiousness. The literal sense of Scripture was for the psychics, who were
unable to penetrate beyond it; but the spiritual were admitted to the
understanding of a higher meaning—“the wisdom of the perfect”.
At the final consummation, when the spiritual
shall all have been perfected in knowledge—when all the seeds of divine life
among mankind shall have been delivered from the bondage of matter—Achamoth,
whose place is now in a middle region, between the pleroma and the highest
heaven of the Demiurge, will enter into the pleroma, and be united with
the heavenly bridegroom Jesus. The matured spiritual natures, shaking off all
that is lower, and restoring their psychic souls to the Demiurge who gave them,
will follow into the pleroma—each to be united with its angelic partner. The
Demiurge will rise from his own heaven to the middle region, where he will
reign over the psychic righteous. Then the fire which is now latent in the
frame of the world will burst forth, and will annihilate all that is materials
The Valentinian system was plausible in the eyes
of Christians, inasmuch as it not only used a language which was in great part
scriptural, but professed to receive all the books of Scripture, while it was
able to set their meaning aside by the most violent misinterpretations. The
Gospel of St. John was regarded by the sect as the highest in authority; but
the key to the true doctrine was said to be derived by secret tradition from
St. Matthias, and from one Theodas, who was
described as a disciple of St. Paul. The initiation into the mysteries of the
sect was gradual; Irenaeus tells us that they were disclosed to such persons
only as would pay largely, and Tertullian describes with sarcastic humour the manner in which the sectaries baffled the
curiosity of any who attempted to penetrate beyond the degree of knowledge with
which it was considered that they might safely be entrusted. After the death of
their founder the Valentinians underwent the usual processes of division and
corruption; Epiphanius states that there were as many as ten varieties of them.
A remnant of the sect survived in the beginning of the fifth century
While the system of Valentinus was the
most imaginative form of Gnosticism, that of his
contemporary Marcion was the most prosaic and practical; and whereas
in the other systems knowledge was all in all, the tendency of Marcionism was
mainly religious. The chief principle which its author had in common with other
Gnostics was the idea of an opposition between Christianity and Judaism; and
this he carried to an extreme.
Marcion was born at Sinope, on the Euxine,
about the beginning of the second century. His father was eventually bishop of
that city; and there is no apparent reason for doubting
that Marcion himself was trained as a Christian from infancy. He rose
to be a presbyter in the church of Sinope, and professed an ascetic life until
(according to a very doubtful story, which rests on the authority of
Epiphanius) he was excommunicated by his father for the seduction of a virgin.
After having sought in vain to be restored, he left Asia, and arrived at Rome
while the see was vacant through the death of Hyginus. He applied for admission
into the communion of the Roman church, but was told by the presbyters that the
principle of unity in faith and discipline forbade it unless with the consent
of the bishop by whom he had been excommunicated. Before leaving his own
country Marcion had become notorious for peculiar opinions, which
indeed were probably the real cause of his excommunication; and he began to
vent these at Rome by asking the presbyters to explain our Lord’s declaration
that old bottles are unfit to receive new wine. He disputed the correctness of
their answer; and, although his own interpretation of the words is not
reported, it would seem, from what is known of his doctrines, that he supposed
the “old bottles” to mean the Law, and the “new wine” to be the Gospel.
Having failed in his attempts to gain
readmittance into the church, Marcion attached himself to Cerdon, a Syrian, who had for some years sojourned at Rome,
alternately making proselytes in secret, and seeking reconciliation with the
church by a profession of penitence. The fame of the master was soon lost in
that of the disciple, so that it is impossible to distinguish their respective
shares in the formation of their system. Marcion is said to have
travelled in Egypt and the East for the purpose of spreading his heresy, and is
supposed to have died at Rome in the episcopate of Eleutherius. (i.e. between
177 and 190). Tertullian states that he had been repeatedly excluded from the
church; that on the last occasion the bishop of Rome restored to him a large
sum of money which he had offered “in the first ardour of
his faith”; that he obtained a promise of being once more received into
communion, on condition of bringing back those whom he had perverted; but that
death overtook him before he could fulfil the task.
Unlike the other
Gnostics, Marcion professed to be purely Christian in his doctrines;
he borrowed nothing from Greece, Egypt, or Persia, and acknowledged no other
source of truth but the Holy Scriptures. He was an enemy to allegorical
interpretation; while he rejected the tradition of the church, he did not
pretend to have any secret tradition of his own; and he denied the opposition
between faith and knowledge. But with Scripture itself he dealt very violently.
He rejected the whole Old Testament; of the New, he acknowledged only the
Gospel of St. Luke and ten of St. Paul’s Epistles, and from these he expunged
all that disagreed with his own theories. He did not question the authorship of
the other books, but supposed that the writers were themselves blinded by
Judaism, and, moreover, that their works had been corrupted in the course of
time.
Marcion held the existence of three
principles—the supreme God, perfectly good; the devil, or lord of matter,
eternal and evil; and between these the Demiurge, a being of limited power and
knowledge, whose chief characteristic was a justice unmixed with love or mercy.
It is not certain whether the Demiurge was supposed to be an independent
existence, or (as in most gnostic systems) an emanation from the supreme God;
but the latter opinion is the more probable. It was taught that the creation of
the Supreme was immaterial and invisible; that the Demiurge formed this
world and its inhabitants out of substance which he had taken from the material
chaos without the consent or knowledge of its ruler. The soul of man was not
(as in other systems) supposed to be implanted by the supreme God, but to be
the work of the Demiurge, and of a quality corresponding to the limited nature
of its author; it had no power to withstand the attacks of the material
principle, which was represented as always striving to reclaim the portion
abstracted from its own domain. Man fell through disobedience to the laws of
the Demiurge, and his original nature was changed for the worse. The Demiurge
chose for himself one nation—the Jews; to these he gave a law which was not in
itself evil, but was fitted only for lower natures, being imperfect in its
morality, and destitute of inward spirit. His system was rigorously just; the
disobedient he made over to torments, while he rewarded the righteous with rest
in “Abraham's bosom”.
The Demiurge promised a Messiah, his son, and of
a nature like his own, who was to come, not for the purpose of mediation and
forgiveness, but in order to destroy heathenism and to establish the empire of
the Jews. But the supreme God, in pity for mankind, of whom the vast majority,
without any fault of their own, were excluded from all knowledge of the
Demiurge, and were liable to his condemnation, resolved to send down a higher
Messiah, his own son. The world had not been prepared for this by any previous
revelations; for no such preparation was necessary, as the Messiah’s works were
of themselves sufficient evidence of his mission. He appeared suddenly in the
synagogue of Capernaum, “in the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar”; but in
order to obtain a hearing from the Jews, he accommodated himself to their
notions, and professed to be that Messiah whom the Demiurge's prophets had
taught them to expect. Then, for the first time, the true God was revealed, and
forgiveness of sins was bestowed on men, with endowments of knowledge and
strength which might enable them to overcome the enmity of matter.
The Demiurge, ignorant of the Messiah’s real
nature, but jealous of a power superior to his own, stirred up the Jews against
him; the God of matter urged on the Gentiles to join in the persecution, and
the Saviour was crucified. Yet, according
to Marcion’s view, his body could not really suffer, inasmuch as it
was spiritual and ethereal; his submission to the cross was meant to teach that
the sufferings of the worthless body are not to be avoided as evils.
Marcion admitted the Saviour’s descent into hell, and with this doctrine
was connected one of his strangest fancies—that the heathens, and the
reprobates of the Old Testament (such as Cain, Esau, and the men of Sodom),
suffering from the vengeance of the Demiurge, gladly hailed the offer of
salvation, and were delivered; while the Old Testament saints, being satisfied
with the happiness of Abraham’s bosom, and suspecting the Saviour’s call as a temptation, refused to listen to
him, and were left as before. This, however, was not to be their final
condition. The Demiurge’s Messiah was after all to come; he was to gather the
dispersed of Israel out of all lands, to establish an universal empire of the
Jews, and to bless the adherents of his father with an earthly happiness; while
such of the heathen and of the disobedient as had not been exempted from his
power by laying hold on the higher salvation were to be consigned to torments.
For the people of the supreme God, it was taught that the soul will be released
from the flesh, and will rise to dwell with him in a spiritual body.
The fundamental difficulty
with Marcion was the supposed impossibility of reconciling love with
punitive justice; hence his distinction between the supreme God, all love, and
the Demiurge, all severity. In order to carry out this view he wrote a book
called Antitheses in which, with the intention of showing an essential
difference between the Old and New Testament, he insisted on all such
principles and narratives in the older Scriptures as appeared to be
inconsistent with the character of love, and made the most of all the instances
in which our Lord had (as Marcion supposed) declared himself against
the Jewish system.
Marcion is described as a man of grave
disposition and manners. The character of his sect was ascetic; he allowed no
animal food except fish; he forbade marriage, and required a profession of
continence as a condition of baptism. Baptism, however, might be deferred; the
catechumens were (contrary to the practice of the church) admitted to witness
the celebration of the highest mysteries; and if a person died in the state of
a catechumen, there was a vicarious baptism for the dead. It is said that Marcion allowed
baptism to be administered thrice, in the belief that at each repetition the
sins committed since the preceding baptism were remitted; that he celebrated
the Eucharist with water; and that, as a mark of opposition to Judaism, he
enjoined the observance of the seventh day of the week (or Sabbath) as a fast.
The bold rejection of all Jewish and heathen
elements, the arbitrary treatment of Holy Scripture, and the apparent severity
of the sect, drew many converts. Marcion affected to address his
followers as “companions in hatred and tribulation”; they rather courted than
shunned persecution; many of them suffered with great constancy for the name of
Christ, and the sect boasted of its martyrs. Marcionism is described by
Epiphanius as prevailing widely in his own time (about A.D. 400), nor did it become
extinct until the sixth century.
Strange and essentially unchristian as
Gnosticism was, we must yet not overlook the benefits which Christianity
eventually derived from it. Like other heresies, it did good service by
engaging the champions of orthodoxy in the investigation and defense of
the doctrines which it assailed; but this was not all. In the various forms of
Gnosticism, the chief ideas and influences of earlier religions and
philosophies were brought into contact with the Gospel—pressing, as it
were, for entrance into the Christian system. Thus the church was forced to
consider how much in those older systems was true, and how much was false; and,
while steadfastly rejecting the falsehood, to appropriate the truth, to hallow
it by a combination with the Christian principle, and so to rescue all that was
precious from the wreck of a world which was passing away. “It was”, says a
late writer, “through the Gnostics that studies, literature, and art were
introduced into the church”; and when Gnosticism had accomplished its task of
thus influencing the church, its various forms either ceased to exist, or
lingered only as the obsolete creeds of an obscure and diminishing remnant.
CHAPTER V.
FROM THE ACCESSION OF COMMODUS TO THE DEATH OF
ELAGABALUS
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