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Not all theological interpretations of texts are sympathetic. When John 1 reapplies and reinterprets the creation story, it does so with clear respect for the original text. Gnostic literature, in contrast, sometimes uses theological traditions in ways that intentionally undermine the original text. A short, fascinating Gnostic text called The Hypostasis of the Archons creatively retells the story of the first six chapters of Genesis so as to undermine most of its theological claims. OVERVIEW OF GNOSTICISM The term Gnosticism is used by modern scholars to describe a cluster of beliefs held by a number of Christians (as well as some non-Christians) beginning probably in the second century A.D. Though their teachings weren’t uniform, the general idea behind Gnosticism is that the created world is not “very good” (as Genesis describes it) but instead a horrible mistake perpetrated by an inferior god who perhaps didn’t know any better. Gnostics often still worshipped Father, Son and Holy Spirit, but the god of Israel was a different god, or rather a demigod, to be blamed for the flawed world we see around us. Clearly this perspective is blasphemous from an orthodox Christian perspective, and many people (understandably) were and are offended by it. The true God, according to a typical Gnostic understanding, still interacts with the creation, but he does so by inviting “spiritual” people to gain a special knowledge (the Greek word is gnosis) by which they are freed from worldly existence. Humans are portrayed as originally spiritual beings from above who have been trapped in carnal bodies, and the goal of salvation is to free us from our worldly (read: defiled) existence so that we can return to the realm of light from which we came. Often, only a select group of humans indeed belongs to that other realm, to which they can escape via knowledge and be saved. HYPOSTASIS OF THE ARCHONS The Hypostasis of the Archons is perhaps better translated, “The [True] Nature of the Rulers.” It takes the word for “rulers” from Ephesians 6:12’s claim that the Christian battle is not against flesh and blood but against “rulers,” which Hypostasis purports to explain the true nature of. Audaciously, it claims that the creator god described in the Hebrew Scriptures is actually a group of rulers (”archons”) whom Scripture erroneously equates with the Father of Jesus Christ. For those scoring along at home, the author just used Paul’s statement in Ephesians to turn Christianity against the god of Israel. The interpretive coup is pulled off through a variety of creative rewrites of the Genesis story. (Although the text uses a variety of names for both the greater and the lesser gods, for the sake of simplicity I’ll refer to them as “God” and “archons,” respectively.) The positive actions attributed in Genesis to the god of Israel are either reattributed to the (higher) Gnostic God, or are reevaluated as wicked or harmful actions. When God looks down upon the earth, the archons see his reflection in the water and try to make a man in his image. They more or less accomplish the task but are unable to breathe a real spirit into the man; the man therefore lies on the ground until God consents to breathe a spirit into him. Later, the archons place the man and woman in the garden and instruct them not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. In this telling of the story, withholding that knowledge from them is a bad thing, but God overcomes their mistake by leading the snake to trick the woman into eating the fruit; thus what Christians deem the “fall” is the Gnostic God’s will from the start. When the man and woman realize their nakedness, the head archon comes and asks “Adam! Where are you?”, not to see what Adam would say (as in common Christian interpretation) but because “he did not understand what had happened.” For the curse that accompanies the “fall,” the archons then proceed to “[throw] mankind into great distraction and into a life of toil, so that their mankind might be occupied by worldly affairs, and might not have the opportunity of being devoted to the holy spirit.” The story is more complex than I let on here, but it is evident that the author uses a retelling of the Genesis story (1) to distinguish the Father of Jesus Christ from the god of Israel and (2) to characterize the god of Israel as a sort of envious, arrogant, bumbling idiot. This leads us to the creation story, which is explained near the end of the text. “Sophia” here is a name for one of the true gods (as is “the entirety”), and this excerpt (quoted from Robinson’s Nag Hammadi Library) describes how Sophia creates and interacts with the demigod (”Samael”) who corresponds to the creator in the Genesis story:
Not all the points of this text are clear; however, the key point I want to draw attention to is the story’s equivalent to “Let there be light” of Genesis 1. In this Gnostic retelling of creation, the words of the God of Israel at this point do not accomplish the creative task ascribed to them in Genesis. Rather, the would-be creator god Samael is portrayed as a blind demigod groping about in the dark, who asks for light because he is unable to see without it. It is the higher god Sophia, not Samael, who stretches out her finger and creates the light. Samael apparently has some control over the matter that lays before him, but he lacks the knowledge that only Sophia (the Greek word for “wisdom”) can provide. CONSEQUENCES FOR CHRISTIAN THOUGHT AND ACTION As I noted in my post on John 1 (10/28/06), Gnostic texts such as this one mounted a direct challenge to what became known as orthodox Christian beliefs. At stake, for example, are (1) the goodness of the created world, (2) the continuity between the God of Israel and the God of Jesus Christ, and (3) bodily salvation and resurrection. All three of these points have been questioned at times in Christian history, but all three ultimately have “prevailed” in the minds of most believers––with important consequences for Christian living:
In conclusion I’ll note the obvious, that what we believe about God affects our lives, and that there are reasons the Church historically has affirmed some views of God and rejected others. In the wake of the over-sensationalized (though genuinely interesting) Gnostic Gospel of Judas, when many people who are repelled by orthodox Christianity look about for alternative traditions that appeal more to their own sensibilities, it is worth looking carefully at the points that truly were at stake. Granting that the kind of Gnostic thought represented in Hypostasis is more extreme than some other ideas that were also rejected as heresy, nevertheless we should bear in mind that the differences under dispute were important. Furthermore, the decisions made regarding canon, orthodoxy and heterodoxy were not mere power plays by those wishing to maintain their own influence, but were governed by convictions that in many cases were established from the very beginning of Christian thought. |
November 16th, 2006 at 5:33 pm
This is off topic. Did you have a chance to take Cornell West when you were at Princeton?
November 16th, 2006 at 5:52 pm
West’s classes were notoriously difficult to get into––both from Princeton University not wanting to let seminary students take up all the seats in his seminars, and from Princeton Seminary having tight limits on what classes at the University could transfer over for seminary credit.
I did attend a lecture he gave on our campus one time, and he’s certainly a spectacular (and brilliant) speaker. Actually, more of a preacher (though it wasn’t a sermon he was giving), if I remember correctly.
Probably, I was just too lazy to try to get into one of his classes; plus I wanted to use my electives for biblical studies and languages. From my perspective now, I think all that time studying languages kept me from ever having to engage ideas on any serious level––which is what a West class would have done––so I kind of got through 5 years of seminary without feeling I had ever really learned anything. In other words, I got here without being able to tell you what any important scholar said about pretty much anything, and now I have to catch up on all that. It is nice to know those languages now, though.
November 22nd, 2006 at 10:16 am
Here’s a history question, also a bit off-topic.
When, roughly, did gnosticism ’start’?
My 1 Corinthians Greek teacher insisted that it didn’t exist as something nameable (in Kripke’s sense of baptism naming) until the 2nd century. But it always seemed to me that some of the problems Paul addressed in 1 Corinthians could be attributable to a gnostic-like group.
Thoughts?
November 26th, 2006 at 12:01 am
Hey Justin-
I’m going to have to punt on this one because I don’t have a lot of free time at this point in the semester. I’ll quote Everett Ferguson’s take on the question, for what it’s worth:
“Gnosticism seems to have grown up concurrently with Christianity in a similar environment (but from different roots), with the two having some interactions in the first century before Gnosticism developed into a separate religion in the second century.” (Ferguson, Backgrounds of Early Christianity, 2d edition, p. 289)
I should note also that there are a lot of NT scholars out there who argue vigorously that many Gnostics were still Christians, although I think it’s generally held that there were non-Christian forms of Gnosticism too.
I’ll learn more about this at some point in the next two years, but those are my thoughts for now.
December 7th, 2006 at 8:13 am
Fair catch. I should be able to hit you with an Amadeus/Simpsons post soon, if you’re still interested.