Diversity of gnostic myths

As Valentinian tradition illustrates, the myths usually categorized as gnostic do not always demonize the creator, as was the case in the Apocryphon of John. What they share is not necessarily an extreme hostility toward the creator or the material cosmos but simply an interpretation of biblical narrative that introduces—in a variety of ways—inferior creators. For example, the myth that Irenaeus reports for the early 2nd-century teacher Satornil of Antioch seems to parallel many elements of the Apocryphon of John. Yet in Satornil’s myth the seven world-creating angels—one of whom is Yahweh, the God of the Israelites—are created by the transcendent god and rebel only later.

Another 2nd-century figure, Justin (not to be confused with the more famous Justin Martyr), taught that there were three original entities, a transcendent being called the Good, a male intermediate figure named Elohim (the God of Israel in the Hebrew Bible, or Old Testament), and an earth-mother figure named Eden or Israel. The world was created from the love of Elohim and Eden, and the first human couple were also created as a symbol of that love. Ironically, evil was introduced after Elohim learned of the existence of the Good above him and abandoned Eden to ascend to it. The ascent of Elohim entailed pain for Eden, whose consequent anger brought ills on humankind. Two writings in the Nag Hammadi library, the Nature of the Archons and On the Origin of the World, contain a figure named Sabaoth, one of the sons of Ialdabaoth, who is reminiscent of Justin’s Elohim. When Sabaoth realizes that there is a higher realm, he undergoes a kind of conversion, condemns Ialdabaoth, and is enthroned above him.

Marcion of Sinope (born c. 110 ce) taught a similar myth. He considered the father of Christ to be completely distinct from the creator God of Judaism and saw only contrasts between Jewish religion and the Christian Gospels. Human salvation, announced by Jesus, came from the father as an offer of pure grace and as a rescue from the system of the stern creator. The creator in Marcionite doctrine is not an offspring of a higher realm like Ialdabaoth or the Valentinian demiurge, and Marcion had no mythology of a special race of humans descended from a transcendent realm. His doctrine is therefore often considered to be only a relative of “gnosticism.”

The attraction of such myths lay especially in their solutions to problems of theodicy (the attempt to reconcile the goodness and justice of God with the existence of evil in the world), since distinguishing a lower creator absolved the higher deity of responsibility for evil or imperfection in the cosmos. The myths also addressed problems concerning the interpretation of scriptures (including Genesis) in which human qualities, such as jealousy or anger, are ascribed to the creator. Similar doctrines of lower demiurges were already current in late Hellenistic philosophy, and for some Christians (and perhaps earlier for some Jews) an interpretation of biblical tradition along those lines would have seemed only sensible. Opponents such as Irenaeus, on the other hand, considered such doctrines to be pagan corruptions of true monotheism.

Beyond their frequent inclusion of a demiurgical myth, gnostic sources vary significantly in other respects, though there are identifiable clusters of sources that have far more in common, such as the Sethian or Valentinian groups. Very often there is a doctrine of the preexistence of the soul or spirit, the soul’s incarnation and imprisonment within the body, its eventual rescue and ascent, and sometimes its reincarnation—themes that were also common in Platonism or Neo-Pythagoreanism. Those themes also can be found in Christian texts that lack any myth of a lower demiurge, such as the Exegesis on the Soul, which appears in the Nag Hammadi collection.

Research on new sources, such as those from Nag Hammadi, also called into question several conventional generalizations about gnosticism. In the area of ethics, for example, there is little evidence to support the belief that gnostics were either extreme ascetics or libertines. Many gnostic traditions are ascetic, but others seem to assume the institutions of marriage and family. The occasional charges of libertinistic practices from opponents remain problematic and are unsupported by original writings such as the Nag Hammadi texts. Language about a spiritual race or class of humans saved by revelation has often been understood to imply a characteristic gnostic determinism, yet that notion has proven to be another questionable stereotype. The Apocryphon of John, for example, seems to envision eventual salvation for everyone except those who knowingly reject the revelation after having received it. Similarly, although gnosticism is often associated with docetism—the notion that divine participation in human experience (such as Jesus’s suffering by crucifixion) is only apparent and not real—the Nag Hammadi tractate Melchizedek, which displays features of Sethian gnosticism, is explicitly critical of docetic interpretations of Jesus’ life and suffering.

Certain writings often labeled “gnostic” have attracted unusual popular interest but illustrate the difficulties in such classification. The Nag Hammadi Gospel of Thomas, for example, does not include any extended mythic narrative, and there is doubt about whether it is justifiably classified as gnostic. It consists entirely of a series of secret sayings ascribed to Jesus, several of which have close parallels in the New Testament Gospels. Although scholars are divided on the issue, some contend that certain elements of the Gospel of Thomas are among the oldest witnesses to Jesus’ words. Surviving Greek fragments do suggest that versions of the Gospel of Thomas existed at least as early as the 2nd century.

A Coptic version of the Gospel of Mary is partially preserved in the Berlin Codex 8502, and there are two earlier Greek fragments from the 3rd century. The text has evoked much popular interest, primarily for the prominence it gives to Mary (probably Magdalene, though some have argued that it is Jesus’ mother), who is privileged here with special visions not shared by the male apostles. The importance of spiritual insight appears to be a leading theme in the Gospel of Mary, but what survives of the writing contains no myth of a lower creator, and there is disagreement about the gospel’s relation to so-called gnostic traditions.

The highly debated Gospel of Judas was found in a 4th-century papyrus manuscript, the Codex Tchacos, which also contained at least three other writings, two of which were found in the Nag Hammadi collection. The codex was discovered in Egypt in the 1970s but was subsequently acquired by and passed among collectors in Europe and the United States for years. The delay in proper preservation by experts resulted in severe damage to the manuscript. When the codex was finally published in 2006, sensational attention swirled around the Gospel of Judas. Although Irenaeus briefly mentioned a “Gospel of Judas,” no gospel with that name had been found (and some scholars still question whether the Tchacos Judas is the same as that referred to by Irenaeus). Public curiosity was particularly aroused by early suggestions that Jesus in the Tchacos text praises Judas as a hero rather than calling him a traitor. Subsequent scholarly analysis, however, resulted in spirited debate on the point. Some argued that Judas is in fact demonized and is associated with demiurgical powers in the writing’s elaborate myth, which seems to draw on traditions similar to those in Sethian works. The poor preservation of the manuscript has allowed for such disparate analyses. In any event, this most curious writing is another indisputably important witness to the sheer diversity among so-called gnostic works.