This article is an excerpt from Ron Dart’s book The Beatitudes: When Peak Meets Valley (Fresh Wind Press, 2005).
Interest in Gnosticism has been growing clear and steady
since World War II. A variety of reasons may be given for this, but the reality
cannot be ignored. The present interest in Gnosticism tends to be positive
rather than negative, and it is this revisionist read of the Gnostic heritage
and tradition that I will touch on in this essay. This drama consists of three
distinct and overlapping acts, and it is essential that each act be lived
through to understand why the interest in Gnosticism continues to thrive, grow,
and prosper.
Act
I can be called the “discovery and scholastic phase.” It began in 1945 when the
Nag Hammadi Library was discovered near the Nile in Egypt. Many a decade was
spent studying these ancient texts, which had been translated from Greek into
Coptic. The challenging task for the scholarly community was to make such a
find available to both the learned and the spiritually interested and
sensitive. Translations were made, and results were published in 1977 as The
Nag Hammadi Library in English, with an introduction by well-known
Classical and Gnostic scholar James M. Robinson. Through this publication, many
Gnostic texts were brought to the foreground.
In
the early Church (the second to fifth centuries), Gnosticism was seen as a
heresy and a heterodox movement within the larger orthodox and creedal
tradition of the church. Many church fathers, both in the Bible and Patristic
tradition, wrote against the Gnostic way. The discovery of the Nag Hammadi
Library finally made it possible for one and all to read some of these texts
that had so incited the Church’s early leaders. Needless to say, there was much
diversity within the Gnostic tradition, and perspectives tended to vary in
depth, breadth, and insight. Missives such as The Prayer of the Apostle
Paul, The Apocryphon of James, The Gospel of Thomas, The Gospel of Philip, The
Exegesis of the Soul, The Dialogue of the Savior, The Acts of Peter and the
Twelve Apostles, The Gospel of Mary and The Testimony of Truth are
just a few of the texts in the Nag Hammadi library.
I
was most interested in Act I of this unfolding drama in my undergraduate years
at the University of Lethbridge for two reasons: First, we had one of the most
important Gnostic scholars teaching there (Dieter Mueller). He translated two
of the Gnostic texts in the Nag Hammadi Library (The Prayer of the Apostle
Paul and The Tripartite Tractate). Second, I was most keen to study
the Classical and Patristic phase of Christian intellectual and ecclesial
history. So when the original version the Nag Hammadi texts were published in
English in 1977, I was hooked. These new texts shed much light on the Late
Antique and Classical phase of the Christian tradition, and publishing these
missives and tracts for the times spoke much about an interest in wisdom,
illumination, and enlightenment in the early Church. Now in English, the texts
were there for everyone to read. But what did they mean, and what did such
texts say about a period of time in western mystical and theological thought?
There
were many questions to ask, and much sorting and sifting to do, but it was
impossible not to read, soak, and saturate myself in the Nag Hammadi find. The
1970s were the years in which many primary, lost, and original Gnostic
manuscripts became available. Needless to say, the mere fact of unearthing and
translating such texts begged a deeper question: Why were such texts, thoughts,
and perspectives marginalized in the Classical phase of the early Christian
community? Were the Gnostics the deeper mystics and contemplatives that the
Church hierarchy banished for dubious reasons? Or did the Gnostics need to be
doubted and marginalized for their immature and fragmented mystical theology?
These questions and many others needed to be asked and answered. I knew we could
not just take the words and arguments of the apologists of centuries ago, but I
also realized that bowing uncritically before the revisionist read of the
Gnostics could be just as hazardous.
Act
I, therefore, lasted from 1945–1977. This period of time covered the discovery
of the Nag Hammadi Library (and other Gnostic texts) and the compilation and
translation of such texts into English. Act II in this unfolding drama built on
the discoveries of Act I and was marked by a trend toward processing and interpreting
what had been discovered.
I
left the University of Lethbridge in 1979 and began what became two MA degrees
(at Regent College and the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, BC).
Both of my MA degrees were in the area of Patristic thought in the Latin West
and Greek East. I learned ancient languages and read many texts in the original
tongue. The Mothers and Fathers of the Desert, the Gnostic tradition, and the
contemplative and mystical theologians of the Patristic era held me near and
dear. I even spent a couple of years translating many of the sayings of the
Desert Mothers and Fathers, and did a course in which I had to read Gregory of
Nyssa’s Life of Moses from the Greek text. I did my first MA at Regent
College on “The Spirituality of John Cassian” and my second MA (a graduating
paper) on “Origen and Anthony.” By this point, I had been baptized and immersed
in the age and ethos of the Classical Christian tradition and the heyday of the
Gnostics.
In
the late 1970s and early 1980s, I began to encounter many revisionist readings
of the Gnostics by the scholarly community. A major actress—Elaine Pagels—had
come onto the stage, and her revisionist interpretation of the Patristic period
offered a new script to ponder. There were others who antedated and anticipated
Pagels, of course, but she was the new prima donna, reigning queen of
revisionist thinking. The publication of her The Gnostic Gospels (1979)
achieved something few scholars had been able to do in such a thorough a way
(although Pagels had been leaning in such a direction in earlier publications).
Most scholars of the Patristic era assumed that the Gnostics were on the edge
for the simple reason that their thinking was paper-thin. There were good and
solid reasons the orthodox community marginalized such heterodox mystics.
Gerard Vallee (a professor of mine when I was doing my Ph.D. at McMaster in the
1980s) had written a fine book in this genre, A Study in Anti-Gnostic
Polemics (1981). Elaine Pagels (and many other Gnostic scholars) begged to
differ with this interpretation of the Gnostics. In fact, the growing scholarly
Gnostic community flipped everything on its head. The Gnostics, so this new
argument went, were the real saints and passionate contemplatives that the
Church had mistreated. This revisionist read of the Late Antique and Patristic
era garnered a growing clan and tribe. It played into a new sort of dualism,
the “church is bad, spirituality is good” phenomena. The ancient Gnostics
became rebel teachers and saints for the modern and postmodern spiritual
seekers. The Gnostics of old rebelled against authority, patriarchy, and the
constrictive nature of creeds, synods, beliefs, and institutions, as have so
have many other contemporary people who have walked the mystic trail. Therefore,
modern spiritual pilgrims had much in common with the ancient Gnostics. Pagels
had done her revisionist read well, and it made sense to many.
It
did not take much time for the next move to be made, one that suggested the
real sayings of Jesus were not in the gospels. If, as the argument went, the
bishops and synods dominated the drama—and they canonized the texts that
reinforced their position—whom did they exclude? The sensitive and insightful
Gnostics, of course! The excluded texts just might contain the deeper, secret,
and real sayings of Jesus that the establishment and authoritarian structure of
the Church decided to suppress. With this simple shift in thought, suddenly,
the environment that spawned and embraced such works as The Da Vinci Code
(2002) was all but in place.
This
revisionist read of the Gnostics, which portrays the Gnostic writers as the
real saints, masters, and mentors of the inner life, has many supporters.
Pagels has written timely texts on the topic, as has Marvin Meyer, Michael
Williams, Karen King, James Robinson, Hans Jonas, and Eric Voegelin (from a
variety of angles). The scholarly Gnostic tribe tends to differ and deviate on
what the term “Gnostic” means, the diversity of texts, and their relevance for
us today, but they have definitely
cornered a growing market of interest with their revisionist interpretation of
the Gnostic way.
Act
II in this unfolding drama continues to play itself out. The Gnostics are often
idealized and romanticized in this approach, and it is hard to take some of
this interpretation too seriously. As I mentioned above, I read The Nag
Hammadi Library in the late 1970s, and the texts certainly lacked the
depth, integration, and maturity of the biblical narrative and the more
sophisticated reflections of the post-apostolic, early, and later Patristic
contemplative and mystical way. But such a revisionist read has won the hearts
and heads of many who have little or no memory of such an era. Orwell would be
most pleased by all of this. It’s not too difficult to convince and convert
those with no memory of the past. Of course, time will clarify where and why
the Gnostics and scholarly Neo-Gnostic clan has erred, but autumn and winter,
perhaps, will need to come before such wisdom reappears. As it stands, the
revisionist deed had been done and done well. Many were on board the ship as it
left the cove and headed for the open waters.
Act
III in this unfolding drama continues the tale that is being told so well. It
has wooed, wedded, and bedded many. Jesus has become a Gnostic master and
teacher for many, and the emerging Wisdom tradition is claiming him as its own.
The Nag Hammadi Library in English has been updated (1990), including a
new introduction by James Robinson and an afterward (“The Modern Relevance of
Gnosticism”) by Richard Smith. Smith’s article does a superb job of putting the
Gnostic tradition into a fuller, longer, and more problematic context.
Robinson, on the other hand, tends to idealize the Gnostics. Marvin Meyer’s
recent publication, The Gnostic Gospels of Jesus: The Definitive Collection
of Mystical Gospels and Secret Books About Jesus of Nazareth (2005) brings
this drama full circle. Previously, Marvin Meyer had published The Gnostic
Bible, The Gospels of Mary: The Secret Tradition of Mary Magdalene, the
Companion of Jesus, The Gospel of Thomas and many other important
books in the Gnostic genre. However, in this latest book, Meyer suggests that
there are four Jesus Gnostic traditions: Thomist, Sethian, Valentinian, and
Marian. The texts that reflect such traditions tell us different and divergent
things about Jesus that are not in the Bible. There are the orthodox, creedal,
and biblical sayings of Jesus (that do not truly tell the full and deeper
truths), and there are the secret and Gnostic sayings of Jesus, which
apparently take us to the heart of the matter and the man. Who is the real
Jesus, therefore? Will he please stand up? Who can we trust and why are we on
this revisionist trail and interpretation? Should we turn to the biblical Jesus,
the Gnostic Jesus or the Jesus of the Patristic era?
Act
III in this unfolding drama assumes that the real Jesus might not be in the
gospel texts. Act III seeks to speak a language that is more applied and
integrative, internalized and pointing in a wisdom direction. If the deeper
sayings of Jesus are the Gnostic sayings, then why not hear and heed them? It
is not a case of either/or, of course (biblical or Gnostic texts and sayings),
but Gnostic scholars, retreat and conference leaders, and spiritual directors
tend to use the Gnostic texts more and more in their teachings. Evidence of
this increase in applied use of the Gnostic texts for spiritual direction and
inner insight can be found in Lynn Bauman’s The Gospel of Thomas: Wisdom of
the Twin (2004). The purpose of the book cannot be missed. It includes an
introduction and translation by Lynn Bauman as well as notes and questions for
reflection and inquiry. Bauman builds on the work of previous scholars and
applies their work to the spiritual needs and questions of our time and ethos.
Bauman’s conscious approach is obvious. In a rather reactionary, simplistic,
and dualistic way, he contrasts the Gnostic Jesus of insight and wisdom with
the colonized Jesus of the conformist, imperial, and authoritarian church of
dogma and power. Such an approach will not do, and it is not worthy of a
thoughtful person grounded in the literature and struggles of the Late Antique
world. Bauman argues, though, that it is in The Gospel of Thomas that
much wisdom and insight can be gleaned for our day. Apparently, Jesus passed on
such hidden truths to his twin brother, and we would do well to ponder such
perennial logia for our personal journey through time.
Many
have followed Bauman and his Gnostic Jesus. Cynthia Bourgeault is one of then.
Bourgeault has blended the insights of Bauman, Father Thomas Keating, and many
others in her eclectic and Gnostic spirituality. Books such as The Wisdom
Way of Knowing: Reclaiming an Ancient Tradition to Awaken the Heart (2003)
and Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening (2004) tell their own Gnostic
tale and tell it well. Christopher Page, in his timely missive Christ
Wisdom: Spiritual Practice in the Beatitudes & the Lord’s Prayer (2004),
also applies the thinking of Bauman and Bourgeault of Christ as a sage and
master of wisdom to the Beatitudes and Lord’s Prayer. Such an interpretive
approach to the Beatitudes and Lord’s Prayer reveals and conceals, unpacks and
yet distorts the more organic, complex, and integrated notion of these central Christian
sayings. Bauman, Bourgeault, and Page, therefore, are approaching Jesus as a
master of insight and wisdom, and, in doing so, missing much about his concerns
for justice, peacemaking, and a more political notion of the Kingdom of God. We
should question this Gnostic read of Jesus when it is applied in the area of
spiritual directing and conferences or retreats.
Act
III, therefore, assumes that the secret and hidden sayings of the Gnostic Jesus
just might have more to say to us than what we hear from Jesus in the gospels
and Church Tradition. The Gnostic tradition is correct in its desire to slake a
deeper spiritual thirst, but we must question whether the Gnostic Jesus can
truly satisfy it.
The
Classical Western Tradition of Plato, Aristotle, and the Jewish prophets (from
which Jesus emerged) never separated wisdom and justice or the sage and wise
person from the prophet and defender of justice and peace. Socrates and Plato
challenged the Pre-Socratics’ interest in metaphysics and cosmology for the
simple reason that there was little or no ethical and political clout or
application. The Gnostics were very much children of the Pre-Socratic and
thinned-out Platonism of the Late Antique era. Plato would be appalled by the
way his name was used and abused to serve perspectives he would have no
interest in. Plato held high the notion of justice and the good just as the
Jewish prophets did. Wisdom and justice did meet in the Classical virtues.
Those who separated and divorced such lovers, as did the Gnostics, did
injustice to both.
Sadly,
the Church has tended to miss the deeper insights, wisdom, and justice of Jesus
in the gospels, and this failure has left the spiritually hungry starving for
something more. The turn we need to make today is not to the Gnostic way or the
Gnostic Jesus. Instead, we need to return to the Jesus of the Sermon on the
Mount, the Beatitudes, and John 14–17 for help and healing on our pilgrim way.
Those who have taken the time to truly hear, meditate upon, and ponder the
Jesus, the disciples, and others of the Nag Hammadi and other Gnostic texts
with the Jesus of the gospels, epistles, and Church Tradition realize there
were good reasons the Fathers and Mothers of the Church said a firm and solid
“no” to the Gnostics.
We
find little or nothing in the Gnostics texts about the centrality of justice
and peacemaking, public responsibility, civic virtues and politics, ecological
concerns, and the importance of place, time, and history. Most Gnostics
retreated into their inner journey, elevated the spirit and the eternal while
subordinating or ignoring history and time. I find it hard to take such an
approach very seriously. The Jesus of the gospels and epistles is more
earthbound, more of flesh and blood, more human and humane, more of the soil
and stream, hawk and rock, a man of and for the people. The turn away from such
a Jesus needs to be questioned today as it was in the past.
I
have no doubt that Acts I–III in the ever-unfolding Gnostic drama will continue
to be with us. And yet, there needs to be a counter-script written and lived
out. It is this older, more integrated, holistic, and holy text that offers
life and life abundant. May our hearts and minds internalize such a deeper
script and speak and live the text well on the stage of life. Life on the peaks
and mountains must meet and greet life in the valley and on the streets.
Through the integration of such a perspective and living in the cross,
chrysalis, and crucible of such a tension, we are made whole and healthy. The
Gnostics (past and present) flee the tension, whereas saints are made and
shaped within it. The Jesus of the Beatitudes points the way to a deeper and
fuller way of knowledge and wisdom than the Gnostics of the past and present.
May we turn and see such a Jesus rather than bowing and genuflecting to the
thinned out Jesus of the Gnostic way.
rsd