Gnosticism

Flip to the front of almost any Bible and you’ll find a table of contents split into two halves. Old Testament, New Testament. Most of us never ask who decided there should be a second list at all, or why the first one stayed. The answer runs through a rich shipowner from the Black Sea coast named Marcion. In the second century he drew up the first Christian canon we know of, a short list of books he considered authentic. He left out the entire Jewish scripture on purpose, because he’d concluded it was the word of a different God. ...

Most of us have spent a few minutes hunting for reading glasses that were on our heads the whole time. Nothing about the situation needs to change in that moment. You don’t need new glasses, or forgiveness for losing them. You need to notice something that was already true. Two old traditions, one from India and one from the Mediterranean, built whole religions on a version of that moment. Buddhism calls the problem avidya. The Gnostic Christians called it agnoia. Both words mean not-knowing, and both traditions put it at the bottom of everything that goes wrong in a human life. ...

On April 6, 2006, the National Geographic Society announced that a lost gospel had been restored and translated. It was the Gospel of Judas, and the story that ran everywhere that spring was simple enough to fit in a headline. Judas wasn’t the traitor. He was the one disciple who understood Jesus, and he handed him over because Jesus asked him to. About a year and a half later, a Rice University scholar named April DeConick wrote in the New York Times that the translation had turned the text upside down. In her reading, the Judas of this gospel was a demon. ...

“They call us unspiritual, common, and ecclesiastic.” That’s a bishop talking, around the year 180. Irenaeus of Lyon is complaining about Valentinian Christians who still sat in his congregation and took communion with everyone else. They just treated him as a man who couldn’t follow the conversation. If you’ve spent any time with Gnostic texts, you’ve probably met the charge that grows out of complaints like his. Gnosticism, it goes, split humanity into the saved few and the hopeless many, and the few decided they were the few. I want to give that charge its full weight, because some of it lands. Then I want to show you a few texts that pull hard the other way. ...

Picture the church in Rome around the year 140. There’s no cathedral and no Vatican, just a scatter of house congregations that speak Greek, argue constantly, and look to a handful of gifted teachers. One of the most gifted is a man from Egypt named Valentinus, and by one ancient account he expects to be made bishop. He wasn’t. Someone else got the job, and within a generation Valentinus had become a favorite target of the heresy hunters. Bentley Layton, whose translation of the fragments I’ll lean on throughout, says that if things had gone the other way, “the whole future of Roman Christianity might have been unimaginably altered.” ...

Halfway through the Gospel of Truth there’s a parable about moving house. A family packs up, and some of their jars turn out to be bad ones that crack on the way. The owner doesn’t grieve over them, because the full jars made the trip, and those were the ones worth carrying. Then the parable gets restless. A great disturbance breaks out among the jars, “for some were empty and others were filled, some were ample and others were depleted, some were purified and others were broken.” I read that line on my laptop with a row of tabs open above it, each one too narrow to show its title, and I had the uncomfortable sense that the text was describing my screen. ...

The charge against the Gnostics fits in one breath. They believed a lesser god made the world, so they decided matter was bad, so they hated the body. You can still hear the verdict whenever someone calls an idea “gnostic” because it treats flesh as an inconvenience to be managed or escaped. I’ve spent a lot of this blog reading these texts sympathetically, so it seems only fair to put the charge to them directly. The short answer is sometimes yes. The longer answer is that the texts fought about the body among themselves, and a few of them defended it more stubbornly than their critics did. ...

The Secret Book of John has a detail that’s easy to read past. After the rulers of this world fail to control humanity by force, they meet again and try something cleverer. In Marvin Meyer’s translation, “They created a contemptible spirit similar to the spirit that had descended, in order to adulterate souls through this spirit.” Similar to the spirit that had descended. The rulers didn’t build a monster. They built a copy of the good thing, close enough that people would take it in without a fight. ...

Pick up a used book and sometimes a stranger’s notes fall out of it. A line copied from a sermon, half a recipe, a question underlined twice. You can’t reconstruct their life from the scraps, but you can tell what they cared about. Reading the Gospel of Philip feels a lot like that. It has no story and no clear outline, and it jumps from baptism to donkeys to the price of pearls without warning. It’s also the most quotable book in the Nag Hammadi library, and once you know how to read it, the jumps start to make sense. Here’s a guided walk through its best images. ...

Ask most people what the Gnostics thought of the Hebrew Bible and you’ll get a one-line answer. They hated it. The God of Moses was the villain, the jealous craftsman who trapped us in matter, and the whole Old Testament was his propaganda. There are Gnostic texts that come close to saying exactly that, and this site has walked through some of them. Then there is a letter from a teacher named Ptolemy to a woman named Flora, and it does something nobody expects. It takes the Law of Moses apart piece by piece, with a scalpel rather than a hammer, and it ends up treating most of the Law with respect. If you’ve only met the cartoon version of Gnosticism, this is the text that complicates it. Here’s how the argument works, where it still falls short, and what a modern reader can borrow from it. ...