There are many ways to interpret and present the Christian Tradition,
but, sadly so, two traditions have come to dominate the discussion. It
will be the burden of this essay to point out that such simplistic
readings of the Christian Tradition distorts the reality of the
Christian way, and, more to the point, we need a third way that is much
more nimble of thought. It is this third way that can point the way
forward and offer us a more integrated and prophetic way in our modern
and postmodern ethos.
The two extremes in this debate are the
Establishment-Constantinian position and Protest-Anarchist position.
Both exist in a symbiotic relationship. The former is often justified
or demonized (depending on the place stood), the latter is often
idealized or questioned (depending on a frame of reference).
The
tradition that has, for many, become the mother of all distortions of
the good, pure and true Christian way is the Establishment-
Constantinian tradition. This tradition, so it is argued, distorts,
demeans and domesticates the more radical nature of Christianity. The
tale goes like this. Once upon a time there was an authentic
Christianity. This can be found, for the most part, in the primitive
stage of the Church as embodied and reflected in the Bible. The Church
of the Bible was true to Christ’s teachings and life, and she refused
to bend the knee to Caesar or compromise the tough and hard sayings of
Jesus. Those who lived in this primitive and authentic form of faith
faced martyrdom for the simple reason that they knew the difference
between a life of true faith and the danger of compromising such a
faith. The Church, in this early phase, was true to her Lord and God,
and she passed on such a radical vision of the Kingdom of God that many
were drawn to such life giving ways. Each and all knew that Jerusalem
and Athens and/or Jerusalem and Rome had little or nothing in common.
The attempt to bridge such differences would only lead to a flattening
out, a thinning of the tale and many a betrayal of the good news.
There were two groups, in the 2nd and 3rd centuries, that thought that
the depth, breadth and radical nature of Christianity was being lost as
Christianity became more established, more orderly and organized. There
were the mystics and contemplatives who were convinced that as the
church became more interested in right dogma and doctrine, the deeper
mystical and esoteric truths were being censured out, buried and
banished from the faith. The church, as institution and creator of
creeds, dogmas, rituals and doctrines was not telling the full truth.
It was these mystics that were called the Gnostics. They claimed to
have the true spiritual knowledge that the moderate and mediocre church
was keeping well hidden. The Gnostics turned inward for true
illumination and insight, and many was the hidden text that spoke their
message.
There were also the more political Zealots. They were convinced that as
the church grew in numbers, wealth, pomp, circumstance and power the
simple message Jesus taught about living simply, sharing generously and
caring for justice and peace was being lost. The church was, as an
institution, in danger of settling into a world it had come to
challenge. The Zealots saw the church as an extension of the state of
Israel, and, as a state, it could go in two directions. The Kingdom of
God could either bend the knee to Caesar, and, as such, confuse the
Kingdom of God with the Kingdom of Man. Or, The Church could persevere
and be political, but be political in the way of the Jewish prophets of
old. The Church could not, though, ignore the realm of economic, social
and political questions. The Church had to be political in a prophetic
rather than an establishment way.
Both these groups, the Gnostics and the Zealots, shared a certain
suspicion about the church and the state as institutions and makers of
dogmas and protectors of power. The Church, in short, had reached a
worrisome place in which it denied the deeper things of the Spirit,
and, as a political entity, had sold its soul to serve the material and
political world of power politics. Both the Gnostics and the Zealots
tended to turn from the authority of the Church and the State and set
up their own form of religious and political interpretation and
organization. Neither group saw in the authority of the Church or the
State a place of either deeper spiritual insight or substantive
political responsibility. Both groups, for different reasons, turned to
the anarchist way, and, as anarchists, set up a more heterodox
alternate to the more orthodox, humanist and catholic understanding of
Christianity.
It is important to note that as revisionist historians revisit, reread
and reinterpret the Christian past (and use such a past for the
present), we are seeing the resurgence of both Gnostics and Zealots
today. But, is the anarchism of the Gnostics or the Zealots consistent
with historic Christianity? Why did the Classical Christian Tradition
reject the Gnostics and Zealots and their interpretation of the faith
journey?
The tale does yet ever continue, though. The Gnostics and Zealots
argued, in the 3rd and 4th centuries, that the age of the pure and true
ones had passed, and, to update the drama, Weber’s thesis came to pass.
Order came to replace spirit, organization came to nudge out the
visionaries, administrators silenced the mystics and bishops banished
the prophets. In short, by the 3rd and 4th centuries, a form of
establishment Christianity had arisen that had little to do with the
primitive stage. Faith had become centralized, and those in leadership
in the Church had become beholden to powerful political patrons rather
than the radical simplicity of the Beatitudes and the Gospel. It was
just a matter of time before Christianity would be completely
assimilated into the waning Roman Empire and reflects its power
structure. It was this tendency, so the argument goes, that was the
death knell to the primitive and Biblical tradition. The apostolic and
post-apostolic age had come to a close, and, in such closing, much had
been lost and forgotten. The fact that Christianity was now part of the
Roman establishment, and the Church reflected such Roman (rather than
Jewish prophetic ways) traditions meant that a recovery of authentic
faith was much needed. The Church had fallen, and she needed to return
to her former ways. It is most interesting to reflect on this read and
interpretation of Church history.
Those within the anarchist tradition (Gnostic and Zealot) see this
period of time as the fall and crippling of the Church. Whereas the
historic church (Roman Catholics, Orthodox and Anglicans) see this as a
golden age. There must be more to the argument than appears at first
sight. It would be foolish to assert that the historic church in the
Patristic era (West and East) was blind and unaware of the
Constantinian compromise. Perhaps, there was a third way even at this
period of time that was neither anarchist nor Constantinian, and it is
this third way that the best of the Fathers and Mothers of the Church
embodied. But, we will return to this later.
We have, in the last fifty years, discovered and recovered much lost
and forgotten literature that can tell us much about the 2nd to 5th
centuries of the church. The Nag Hammadi documents, the Dead Sea
Scrolls and many a Gnostic text have come to light, and each of these
finds has much to tell us about a thriving and diverse spirituality in
the Late Antique world. Most of this literature is available, and the
convergence between both contemporary anarchist spirituality and Late
Antique Gnostic spirituality fits hand in glove.
It is virtually impossible today to miss the distinction between
spirituality and religion. Religion tends to be seen in a negative way.
It’s all about the institutions, rituals, dogmas, doctrines and creeds.
Spirituality is, on the other hand, seen in a positive way. It’s about
the unfettered and individual search for God, for meaning, for the
Self, for the Ultimate. It does not take a great deal of reflection to
see how the religion is bad, spirituality is good distinction plays
ever so nicely into the anarchist tradition. A thoughtful person might
want to ask this simple question: what is the good in religion (as
opposed to the bad), and what are the dangers and limitations of
spirituality (as opposed to seeing it only as a good)? Many though just
avoid this line and track of questioning. Needless to say, it is these
distinctions (and their dualistic interpretations) that are the new
creeds, dogmas and confessions of our age and ethos.
It is this revisionist and anarchist rereading of Christian history
that is very much in vogue and quite trendy at the present time. Those
who have lived long in history get a curious sense of déjà vu. Books in
this tradition pour off the press as water cascades over dry rocks. The
arguments are all much the same. They all put the same interpretive
spin on things. They all appeal to a culture that has no memory, hence
quite willing, keen and eager to believe anything that seems to have
the scent of spirituality attached to it. The tale told is the same
yesterday and today. The Church and State cannot be trusted. Religion
and politics are things one and all must be wary of and a distance
should be kept from them. Spirituality and mysticism are good, the
Church and religion are not so good. A form of doing politics that is
protest and advocacy is good. Political parties and politicians cannot
and should not be trusted. This dualist way of thinking has an ancient
line and lineage. I have listed a few books below to illustrate my
point.
Gnostic Anarchism
Elaine Pagels: The Gnostic Gospels (1979)
Elaine Pagels: Beyond Belief: The Secret Gospel of Thomas (2003)
Bart Ehrman: Lost Christianities (2003)
Karen King: What is Gnosticism? (2003)
Stephan Hoeller: Gnosticism: New Light on the Ancient Tradition of Inner Knowing (2002)
Marvin Meyer/Esther de Boer: The Gospels of Mary: The Secret Tradition of Mary Magdalene the Companion of Jesus (2004)
Marvin Meyer:The Gnostic Bible (2003)
Zealot Anarchism
Eberhard Arnold: The Early Christians After the Death of the Apostles (1970)
John Yoder: The Politics of Jesus (1972)
Jacques Ellul: Anarchy and Christianity (1988)
Vernard Eller: Christian Anarchy (1986)
Dave Andrew: Christi-anarchy: Discovering a radical spirituality of compassion (1999)
J. Denny Weaver: Anabaptist Theology in the Face of Postmodernity: A Proposal for the Third Millennium (2000)
Stanley Hauerwas: Within the Grain of the Universe: The Church’s Witness and Natural Theology (2001)
All of these books (and there are many like them) hold to a firm and
steady ideological line. Reality is reduced to an either-or dualism.
There are the pure ones who have it right (in either a contemplative or
political sense), and there are those who have, time and time again,
compromised the right, true and good. A must read in this way of
looking a social reality (either in a spiritual or political way) is
Eric Voegelin’s, The New Science of Politics. Voegelin, rightly so,
argues that the heart Gnosticism can be shaped and guided by an
interest in spirituality, but deeper than this (and more important) is
the fact that Gnostics think their interpretation of reality is
absolutely right and those who differ with them somewhat off the latch.
The New Science of Politics highlights how Gnosticism, when seen and
interpreted in this way, can have both spiritual and political
tendencies. Voegelin traced, in The New Science of Politics, how
Joachim of Fiore (in the Middle Ages), Oliver Cromwell (in the English
Civil War), the French Revolution and the Communist Revolution all, in
their different ways, are Gnostic. Joachim and Cromwell blended
spirituality and religion, whereas the French and Communist Revolutions
dismissed religion, but all four groups were ideological Gnostics. They
could brook no opposition, and they could not accept uncertainty or
mystery. Both English and American Low Romanticism is very much at work
in this approach to religion, and the Gnostic and Zealot way walks on
the firm and steady path that both Radical Reformers in the Reformation
held high and those like Blake and Keats, Emerson, Whitman and Thoreau
carried forth and ever onward.
The work of Eric Voegelin has, therefore, done much to offer us a
thoughtful way of reading and interpreting the Gnostic way. There is no
doubt that Gnostics (in the Classical sense) and Zealots (in the
Classical sense) tend to turn their backs on church and state, on most
forms of authority. Such ways of seeing and interpreting social and
spiritual reality is dualistic, and, at the heart of this dualism, is a
way of seeing the world as black and white, right and left, gods and
demons. Voegelin, in The New Science of Politics, points out the
dangers of this simplistic way of thinking. His contrast between
Richard Hooker (the 16th century Anglican Divine) and the Puritans is
most telling. Hooker had the ability and nimbleness of mind and
imagination to see the complex nature or reality (in both the area of
spirituality and politics), and realized a prophet must not turn
against the institutions and people that always and ever bear the truth
in an imperfect and limited way. Many of Puritans, on the other hand,
reduced reality to simplistic formulas, insisted both church and state
were evil and could not be reformed. The clash between Hooker and the
Puritans signals and symbolizes, in many ways, the ongoing differences
between the anarchist mindset (in either a spiritual or political way)
and the more catholic, humanist and orthodox Christian way.
Is the anarchist read of history (spiritual or political) with us
today, and does it adequately reflect the fuller and more honest read
of Christian history? We can see this read of history with us in many
forms today. There are those, within the Mennonite tradition, who buy
uncritically into such a reading of history. Yoder and Weaver are the
gurus and guides to such followers and acolytes of the anarchist way.
There are others such as Jacques Ellul (Anarchy and Christianity) and
Gerhard Eller (Christian Anarchy) who perpetuate this ideological
dualism. Stanley Hauerwas, in many ways, has become an authoritative
voice for the Christian anarchist and protest clan, tribe and family.
Hauerwas is good at raising some tough and challenging questions, but
when it comes to do serious and substantive politics on the ground, he
has little to seriously offer other than a few general maxims. Many is
the protest anarchist that is brought forth from the past and present
to justify such an authentic and pure Christian way. Such a position
(past and present) tends to slip into simplistic dualisms: pure remnant
church or dark and threatening world, prophetic anarchist or
establishment Constantinian, society as a good, state as evil, Bible or
Tradition and creedal or moral faith. It is important to note that is
anarchist approach to doing politics has many a follower in the broader
non-religious world. Those like Noam Chomsky, Michael Parenti, Edward
Hermann and the long list of American anarchist thinkers stand very
much in this lineage and family tree. There is a line that could be
easily drawn between the anarchist politics of the Anabaptist reformers
of the 16th century, the English anarchists such as Godwin and clan in
the late 18th and early 19th centuries, the American anarchists such as
Emerson, Whitman and Thoreau in the 19th century and the protest
anarchists today. The clan stands very cleanly, neatly and clearly in
the way of the zealots of old. The way of looking at reality is the
same. Society is seen as a good, the state is evil. Spirituality is
good, religion is bad. The dualism goes ever on and on. This list could
go on and on. Is, though, such an interpretation of Christian history
so simple? And, what are the limits and limitations of the zealots?
It is important to note that there is an important convergence of two
revisionist traditions occurring at this point in time. There is the
Gnostic reread of the Classical phase of Christian history and there is
the more Zealot reread of Christian history. Both see the Constantinian
compromise of the Church as a problem that needs to be faced and not
flinched from. Is this read of the Classical past accurate, though? Was
there more to the Church and the State, past and present, then is being
presented in the Constantinian-anarchist either/or approach to faith
and spirituality, faith and politics? There is no doubt there is, and
this needs to be stated and articulated. We need not be held captive by
either an ideological commitment to the Eusebian-Constantinian position
or the Anarchist (spiritual or political) position. It is this third
way we will now ponder.
It is important to note, as a corrective to the rather simplistic
Eusebian-Constantinian fall thesis of church history that the fathers
and mothers of the Patristic era were more complex and nuanced in their
reactions, at both a contemplative and political level, to the civil
religion argument of Eusebius and Constantine. The reactions to the
union of church and state were, on the one hand, similar to some
reactions today. The argument was rather simple. The church has
compromised its radical tradition in the area of both spirituality and
politics, therefore, to be people of good faith, each and all must
retreat into purist enclave and remnant communities. The Essene
community at Qumran had done this earlier in the Jewish tradition, and
by the third and fourth centuries, the gnostics (at Nag Hammadi and
elsewhere) and the retreat to the desert (by many Christian women and
men) seemed to signal yet another form of turning against the
compromises of the church. But, and this is the key point to note and
notice here. Most desert Abbas and Ammas (and their followers) remained
firmly committed to both the church as a spiritual and material
reality, and many in the desert were profoundly committed to their
bishops and good theology. The close relationship between those in the
desert and bishops, archbishops and priests in the large and smaller
cities of the Latin West and Greek East cannot be ignored. In fact,
most of the leading bishops of the Patristic era had spent most of
their early years being trained in the desert way. Augustine and
Jerome, Ambrose and Benedict, Gregory of Nyssa and Basil, Gregory of
Nazianzen and John Chrysostom, Paula and Macrina, Monica and Anthony,
Cassian and Philonella all blended and held together a form of
spiritual theology that was grounded in the historic and formal church
and raised the hard political questions.
There were three directions the mothers and fathers could have gone
with the Eusebian-Constantinian synthesis. The first was to bend the
knee to Eusebius and argue that the interests of the state and the
church were one and the same. There were some who walked down this
path, but this was not the way of the saints of the church. The second
path was to turn against both church and state, and, in doing so,
insist that the pure and invisible church must oppose and turn from the
godless ways of church and state and live as a clean remnant that
refused to compromise the truth of the gospels the way the church and
state had done. The first way of dealing with the church-state union is
what we call civil religion, and the second way of dealing with
church-state union is the anarchist and pietistic way.
The third path chosen by the mothers and fathers of the Patristic era
was the prophetic way. The prophetic way affirms the role of church and
state rather than retreating from them, but the prophetic way comes as
an ongoing challenge to both church and state when they fail to live up
to their calling and responsibilities. It is this prophetic way that
was at the heart and centre of the Patristic understanding of faith,
culture, politics and spirituality. It is this more integrated,
holistic and holy attitude and approach that played a central and
leading role in making the church a central actor on the stage of the
Late Antique world. This was not a church that was afraid to be
self-critical. Nor was this a church that feared facing the reigning
monarchs of the time. This was a church that stood for a thoughtful
contemplative theology (in thought, word and deed), and took such a
mystical approach to doing theology into the streets and palaces of the
time. It was in such places that justice had to be done, peacemaking
had to be lived and conflict could not be avoided. But, to retreat from
the fray into either spiritual or political ghettoes was not the
position taken by the mothers and fathers of the golden era of church
history, and this should not be the position of the church today.
rsd