Much has been written about ancient attitudes toward the doctrine of free will. Many works that discuss ancient views on will and free will among pagans, Jews, and Christians juxtapose the ‘Christian view’ with the ‘Gnostic view’. We are told that Christians like Irenaeus, Origen, and Clement developed their doctrines concerning will in opposition to the ‘Gnostic view’.1 Christians based their interest in moral questions on the doctrine of free will while ‘Gnostics’ did not concern themselves much with ethics because they were determinists. This dichotomy has been thought to stem from the polemical nature of the church fathers’ writings.2 Several early church fathers argued that there were Christians who were determinists, viewing themselves as saved by nature, and thus were uninterested in ethics.3 In light of the work of Michel Desjardins, Michael A. Williams, and others, however, the idea that so-called ‘Gnostics’ were uninterested in ethics has rightly been rejected and much has been done recently to trace them.4 Often the ethical interest in ‘Gnostic’ works is explained by pointing out that the systems the church fathers rejected were not deterministic at all.5 To a certain extent this is true; many texts that have been associated with ‘Gnosticism’ are not determinist.6 Furthermore, one would be hard pressed to find in ancient philosophy or religion an ethical system that argued from the perspective of hard determinism, that there was no possibility for improvement. Nevertheless, as I will argue here, there were Christians who rejected the theory of free will. Thus, even though polemical, the church fathers’ depictions of Christian determinists were not completely unfounded. They were, however, willfully wrong in connecting anthropological systems that restrict human choice with indifference toward ethics. As others have pointed out concerning ancient Greek philosophy, and as we will see in more depth shortly, it was quite possible to construct viable ethical systems without a theory of free will. I argue that TriTrac could be understood as representing such a Christian standpoint. By looking more closely at the question of TriTrac’s view on free will, in this chapter I deepen the study of the cognitive system represented in the text that has been addressed in the two previous chapters and also attempt to fill two scholarly gaps: (1) chart the workings of a Christian deterministic worldview and (2) investigate how such an anthropology was used for ethical discussions.
Before I begin the investigation of TriTrac and the concept of free will, we should first take a look at how the idea of free will emerged in ancient philosophy, especially among Christian authors, and see how the discussion of will and free will was connected to questions of ethics.
1 Will and Ethics in Ancient Thought
First some notes on terminology. The most frequent term used for will in ancient Greek thought is probably βούλησις. After the first century, the term θέληµα seems to have become more prominent, which is also what is often used for will among many of the earliest Christian authors, as in the texts that later became the Bible. During the second century onward, when detailed discussion arose concerning whether the human will was free or not, αὐτεξούσια (literally self-power, or perhaps rather self-determination) and προαίρεσις (literally pre-choice or preference) become common and exclusive terms in this debate, among Stoics like Epictetus, Aristotelians like Alexander of Aphrodisias, as well as Christians like Justin, Origen, and Clement. Latin writers from the first century onward—including Cicero, Lucretius, Tertullian, and later Augustine—used the terms libera voluntas (free will) and arbitrii libertas (freedom of choice) when discussing the topic of free will.7
Early Greek philosophers, including Plato and Aristotle, did not have a clear notion of free will.8 Their idea of human will (the term most often used here is βούλησις/βούλεσθαι) was connected to desire, a very specific form of desire associated with reason (λογισµός).9 If one reasoned that something was good, that which was deemed good became an object that was desired. As was discussed in the previous chapter, the “good” (ἀγαθὸν) was strongly connected to the rational in ancient philosophy—the highest principle in the decision- making faculty, in TriTrac the pneuma—while passions were associated with bodily functions and distress.10 The world was generally thought to be rationally organized, and if one had knowledge of the order of the world one was guided to act correctly, rationally, which led to a happy life.11 The idea of the will was closely linked to ethics, and in classical Greece ethics could be viewed as a kind of intellectualism.12 As discussed in Chapter 1, a knowledgeable person was equal to a moral person. It would have been a contradiction if a knowledgeable person acted immorally. However, the truly wise (σώφρων) also knew their limits; true knowledge was grounded in self-knowledge and a wise person would naturally have the will to do good which resulted in a happy life.
Thus, for Plato and Aristotle the meaning of will (βούλησις) was desiring what one deemed good. Aristotle, however, developed this further, reforming what he portrayed as the Socratic view, that people did not act against their own reason, that people desired and did what they reasoned was good for them. Like Plato, he considered the soul to consist of one rational and two irrational parts.13 One could in fact commit an action that was contrary to one’s reason. This was due to the irrational parts of the soul that sought to fulfill other goals than the good, like desire (ἐπιθυµία) or temper (θυµός). This did not necessarily mean that the goals sought by the irrational parts of the soul were always unvirtuous, they were just not identical with the good (ἀγαθόν), which the reasonable will (βούλησις) strived after. Only through reason could one judge if an action was right or not, if an action led to the good or was motivated by other cravings, like those connected to the more bodily parts of the soul (like desire and honor). One thing that is already clear in the earliest Greek thought, however, in epic and poetic literature as well as classical and pre-Socratic philosophy, was that when will and moral and immoral actions were discussed, they were often defined by the parameter of what was rational versus irrational.14 Here we have the background for TriTrac’s view that virtue is rewarded with the good emotions associated with the pneumatic substance—which should function like a charioteer of the soul and matter.
It is with Aristotle that the discussion and concept of will seems first to be developed further. Aristotle used the term choice (προαίρεσις), a kind of choice that was reminiscent of his understanding of will.15 A choice was “something that is up to us” (τὸ ἐφ’ ἡµῖν). Choosing was a specific kind of willing. You chose to do something because it was considered to be good for you, but you could not choose to do something that was not up to you to decide. You could, however, desire what was not up to you. One could also fail to choose that which was good, which then was a cause of the irrational parts of the soul, or rather those that stood further away from reason.16 People, according to Aristotle and also Plato, who were properly trained, who were completely virtuous and wise, always chose the good. In fact, they could not act in any other way than choosing the good. Those who failed to act on their rational desire (βούλησις) and instead acted on their irrational desire/temper (ἐπιθυµία/θυµός), did not make a choice (προαίρεσις) to do the irrational before the rational, rather they failed to choose the rational.17 This proviso explains the reason why one cannot say that Aristotle (who developed Plato’s thoughts) entertained the concept of free will, even though he introduces the idea of a choice that can decide on things that are “up to us”.18 A virtuous person would not fail to choose the good, so what hindered unvirtuous people from choosing the good and just? To answer this, we must deepen the discussion begun in the previous chapters, on the mechanisms of cognition and the effects of emotions.
Stoics developed the discussions on will further. The notion of a virtuous person as someone who could not act in another way than choosing the good, was adopted by many Stoics. However, Stoics rejected the view that the soul included irrational parts. If humans were thought to be naturally endowed with irrational parts of the soul, it could lead to the condoning of irrational actions as part of the natural human makeup. Stoics developed a different theory of will. Stoics maintained that the human mind was subjected to impressions (φαντασία) from outside. It is said that it was Zeno who developed this idea, and he maintained that the impressions left imprints on the mind.19 Chrysippus modified this and clarified that the mind did not just passively receive impressions. All impressions took form in a specific mind, and thus also reflected that mind.20 Small children and animals acted on impressions in the mind with instinct and could also develop preferences for acting on some impressions and avoiding others, but there was no reasoning involved. Adults, however, differed from animals and small children in that the impressions appeared as propositions. For humans, impressions were true or false, and humans decided with their reason on how to act on impressions.21 Thus, all actions on impressions involved a process of review and rational consent. This is the Stoic theory of assent (συγκατάθεσις) which, as we will see, became very influential.22 However, a weak and untrained mind was subjected to desire (ἐπιθυµία), a non-rational willing, a form of passion or emotion (πάθος) that caused disturbances in the mind that could lead to assenting to impressions that were false.23 A virtuous person with a strong and developed mind was not subjected to desire; such a mind would judge and assent to impressions only through rational will (βούλησις). In later Stoic thought, desire (ἐπιθυµία) became just one of many different emotions that one should avoid. Epictetus developed the Stoic notions on will further and insisted that things that were “up to us” were not the results to which assenting to impressions led. It was not “up to us” if an act actually took place or not; one could at any time be hindered by something or someone even though assenting to the impression. The assent itself, however, the choice of assenting to an impression, was “up to us”, and that no one could take away.24 For Epictetus, the choice of assent, to will something, was fundamental to what defined a person. It was up to each person to develop the ability to choose according to virtue (ἀρετή). We will have reason to return to this in more detail below, but it is important to make clear already at this point that ethics in ancient philosophy did not hinge on a simple doctrine of free will; a faculty was not postulated that allowed people to choose between good or bad at any given time.25 Things were, as we have seen, much more complicated than that.
According to Stoics, people were not born free; humans were born with the ability to develop a reason, but since we were born into a social situation with values that were not always sound, people were actually never free as long as they entertained impressions that were false. This is why Stoics said that it was only the truly wise person who was really free.26 Plotinus was greatly influenced by this understanding of freedom as well.27 A completely free mind, according to Stoics like Epictetus, did not contain any false beliefs, it did not get entangled with any false impressions and could not be coerced by any power in the world to change its mind.28 Here we have a clear idea of what it means to have a completely free will, and it was developed by the Stoics.29 As it happens, the free person’s will and God’s will (the Logos in this case) coincide. The completely free person, the wise sage, always acts with the good in mind. But the important thing to notice for our purposes here is that it is not God’s will that makes the wise person choose the good, which is why we can speak of free will. So, while Stoics did entertain the concept of free will for humans, it was not universal but rather an utterly rare phenomenon, a merging of one individual’s mind with the all-permeating will of God. A person with a free will was motivated solely by the understanding that the good is the best thing to choose, and always did what was good.30 Thus, the first notions of free will did not refer to a faculty all people possessed, which enabled people in general to always choose the good. People who were not free, that is, who did not have access to free will, were under the influence of different impressions that led to many other things than the good. This did not necessarily mean that all people who did not have a completely free will lead immoral lives. We will return to these discussions in detail below and then also address the way the technical terms pertaining to the discussion on free will were used, terms like αὐτεξούσια (self-determination) and προαίρεσις (choice).
Stoic psychology and the definitions of freedom would become very influential among later philosophers. Let us now examine how Christian thinkers from the second century onwards approached these questions and then turn to TriTrac.
2 Christian Free Will, the Configuration of God, and the Creation of the Cosmos
The notion of free will is not discussed explicitly in the New and Old Testament. Nor are the technical terms used associated with the discourse on free will, like αὐτεξούσια (self-determination) and προαίρεσις (choice). There are, however, several passages that become relevant later, when Christian thinkers begin to get interested in the question of free will. For example, in the synoptic gospels Jesus says he wishes he could avoid death but instead subjects himself to the will (θέληµα) of his Father.31 Paul writes that the will (φρόνηµα) of the body leads to death while the will of the spirit leads to life and peace.32 Even though the technical terms used to discuss the question of will, like προαίρεσις and αὐτεξούσια, do not occur, the topic would become very important for many Christians during the second century. This was largely due to the fact that the doctrine of free will was applicable to questions of ethics and moral accountability.
Free will was closely connected to the configuration of God. Many ancient Christian thinkers maintained that God was omnipotent, which presupposed absolute freedom.33 A God who was not free, who was constrained by some other power or substance, could not be omnipotent. Thus, we find God’s freedom emphasized in early Christian literature: God was all-powerful and free. This was contrary to many Greco-Roman philosophers’ ideas of the divine. The Stoics, for example, maintained that the will of the highest God was identical to the reason that ruled in nature; God could not bend his will to act contrary to nature, that is: God could not change his own will or will himself to be other than he was.34 Most philosophers did not imagine an independent will beyond the laws of nature, nor an ultimate God that unrestrictedly acted in the world solely governed by his own will, choosing to act on certain things while disregarding others. The Platonist Celsus wrote that such a notion was absurd.35
Some Middle Platonists’ view on the Demiurge, however, came close to the Judeo-Christian idea of an omnipotent creative God with freedom of will. But they were troubled by the fact that the Demiurge seemed to be constrained by Necessity (ἀνάγκη) in the creation story in the Timaeus.36 Surely the Highest God could not be restricted in such a way. There must have been a higher God above the Demiurge, some Middle Platonists argued, like “the One” Plato discussed in the Parmenides. One way to make the omnipotence of the Highest God clear was to emphasize that God created the world through his will. If the world was not instigated through the free will and explicit choice of God it implied that either God did not create the world, did not care, or that creation came about through necessity, all of which threatened God’s omnipotence and goodness. Thus, we find in Alcinous, Pseudo-Plutarch, and Philo the emphasis that God’s will was explicitly the reason for creation taking place.37 Plotinus came to hold a similar view: God had a will and it was free.38 We also find this theme in the work of several Christian thinkers, for example Theophilus of Antioch, Tatian, and later Origen.39 However, the question remained: if God instigated creation and God was good, how did one explain bad things happening in the world? How did you explain human evil?40 One way early Christians solved this problem was to insist that God had extended free will to humans when creating “humankind in his image” (Gen 1:27).41
The question of free will was important for early Christian understanding of the nature of God, the human relation to the divine, and for understanding moral accountability and judgment.42 Many Christian writers also related the doctrine of free will to questions concerning culpability and justice. If there was no free will, asked Justin Martyr, how did one decide on praise and blame?43 According to Justin, humans chose freely either to act according to God’s will (a virtuous action) or to act, maliciously, against it.44 For Justin, humans in this sense had self-determination (αὐτεξούσιον). Theophilus and Tatian followed suit45 and in this way the discussion of free will became connected to eschatology and the final judgment. Origen wrote that God would judge our actions and this judgment-to-come would of course be fair, because God was fair and good. This presupposed free will because a fair judgment of human actions must have been based on actions freely chosen.46 According to Origen, the free will of humans was one of the essences of humanity and a cornerstone of the Christian faith.47 God aided humans by his grace to make the right decisions, that is, those choices that complied with his divine will. Clement maintained that the divine Logos and God’s angels aided humans in choosing rightly.48 However, Clement also maintained that it was completely “up to us” (ἐφ’ ἡµῖν) to be persuaded or not, while it was up to God to grant his grace to let us become like him.49
Origen seems to be the first Christian who deliberately and in detail argued for a theory on free will.50 His writings on this subject would become very influential, especially for the Cappadocian fathers and the emerging monastic movement.51 Origen recognized that all humans were not created with the same circumstances; people had different natural constitutions and the social settings one was born into differed. These factors affected the choices people made. Origen also supported the notion that divine Providence governed in the world. However, he rejected the idea that some people could not help making choices that deviated from divine will, that some were born with the natural inclination not to follow the will of God and to do good. People were, Origen insisted, created completely equal in terms of their will. But it was obvious, not just to Origen, that humans were born under different circumstances and had different opportunities. Some were born Greek, others Jews; some were rich and others poor, and so on. This was significant to the discussion about will, because it forced the question: did all humans really have equal opportunity to follow their will and to do the will of God? This question caused some problems for Origen, and consequently, he spends a good deal of his work On First Principles discussing them. Origen’s precursors who commented on the free will of humans, like Irenaeus, were adamant that God had distributed free will equally among humans. Those who chose the way of goodness were rewarded with immortality while those who chose evil were punished, but all humans had the equal opportunity to choose the good.52 Origen solved the problem of equal opportunity and different circumstances by way of his interpretation of the creation story. Origen maintained that God created human bodies because he foresaw that human souls would need them in order to undo previous mistakes.53 The question of free will, for Origen, was thus connected to the creation of the world. Origen thought that the world looked the way it did because free will was granted to the noetic beings first created by God.54
This cosmological doctrine, as we shall see, is also essential for TriTrac. Origen believed that God created Intellects (nous) separately from the body and that they lived a separate life before and after the bodily life and creation of the cosmos.55 In the beginning, God had created noetic beings, Intellects (nous) with free will, who lived in contemplation of God. These beings became angels, demons, and human souls depending on the impressions to which they gave assent and how far they fell from their initial state of contemplating God.56 Here Origen employed the cognitive theory of assent. Origen thought that humans shared the faculty of free will with angels and demons. This seems to have been a widespread idea among Christians, also found in Justin Martyr, Tatian, and Irenaeus, for example.57 Many early church fathers agreed with the interpretations of Genesis found in the Book of the Watchers in 1 Enoch where the Nephilim are portrayed as cast out from heaven. Tertullian wrote that the evil angels fell because they had acted in hateful ways and that they had done so of their own free will.58 Origen also quotes the Books of Enoch and holds it in high esteem.59 Like the angels, Origen maintained, humans were endowed with free will and, thus, the different circumstances in which humans found themselves must have been due to their own choices, freely made, and for which they later would be judged.60 Origen thought that the circumstances in which people found themselves on earth were due to God’s judgment that those particular circumstances, given the makeup of one’s body and position in the world, were the best possible conditions in which to recompense for the mistakes for which one had previously been responsible, but that in the end it was always up to us.
Origen developed his thoughts on free will in his work On First Principles, which was written, he said, in order to sort out the confusion that existed among some Christians.61 Consequently, Origen’s thoughts on free will are presented in reaction and contrast to the notion among some Christians that people were saved depending on their constitution and depending on God’s will and not solely on the worth of the choices they themselves made.62 Irenaeus tells us that he had come across Christians who maintained something similar.63 Both Irenaeus and Origen were offended by the notion that there could be people who were born saved, without having to make choices at all, which they both associated with Valentinian theology.64 Origen discusses two New Testament passages, as well as several other texts,65 when laying out his argument in favor of the doctrine of free will. In Rom 9:16 Paul writes that salvation “depends not on human will (τοῦ θέλοντος) or exertion, but on God who shows mercy” (τοῦ ἐλεῶντος θεοῦ); and Phil 2:13 states that “it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will (θέλειν) and to work for his good pleasure”. These passages, Origen wrote in On First Principles, were used by those Christians who argued that humans were saved according to God’s will, not human free will, and that humans were restricted by their natural bodily constitutions.66 Exactly who these Christians were is not clear, but because Origen mentions the Valentinian “error” of believing that some were saved by nature shortly before elaborating on the correct view on free will, it is likely that he is debating against certain Valentinians with whom he was familiar.67 This is elaborated on further below, where it is argued that the detailed thoughts Origen rejected are actually present in TriTrac.
Irenaeus’ depiction of Valentinians differs somewhat from Origen’s. Irenaeus writes that the Valentinians he knew considered themselves to belong to a pneumatic class for whom the question of free will was not a concern. However, if we read more closely, the Valentinians Irenaeus described did not reject free will; rather, Irenaeus explains that they restrict it to certain people, namely the psychics. The psychics had free will, and represented a group of the undecided, people who risked damnation but stood to gain salvation if they proved themselves worthy.68 Clement cites a certain Theodotus who is supposed to have held similar ideas.69 Psychics had to show through their actions that they deserved salvation and were the only ones who were granted free will. The pneumatics did not need free will because they had nothing to prove, they were saved already. There was a third class in the Valentinian anthropology too, according to Irenaeus (and this also fits ExcTheod),70 the material, who were predetermined to be doomed and who also lacked free will to decide for themselves.
Today, scholars engaged with proto-heterodox Christianity generally agree that the church fathers’ portrayals of Valentinians were polemically inspired and that these notions did not negate an interest in morals. However, not many Christian texts operate with the tripartite anthropology that the church fathers reacted against when calling their opponents determinists. One text that does, apart from ExcTheod and Irenaeus’ depictions, is TriTrac (118:14–122:12).71 Harold Attridge and Elaine Pagels have argued that these are not fixed categories that negate an interest in moral questions, but that “act determines essence”.72 Thomassen has argued in a similar fashion,73 and Denise Kimber Buell has added another nuance to the discussion by stating that what we see in TriTrac is a “combination of fluidity (action) and fixity (essence)”.74 The three human categories are in fact fluid, Buell writes, and should be understood from the perspective of a discourse on identity construction. The term γένος did not denote fixed categories in early Christian discourse, as the modern categories ‘ethnicity’ or ‘race’ often do today. These are important points, but before concluding what a seemingly fixed anthropology would have meant socially, we need to elucidate the actual system behind such an anthropology. I maintain that ethical systems which rejected the notion of free will actually made sense considering the discussions that were taking place at the end of the second and beginning of the third century regarding human will and its relation to God’s will and creation. I argue that the rejection of the notion of human free will was a respectable and viable opinion—regardless of Origen’s and Irenaeus’ portrayals—and that anthropological systems that restricted human choice would have been effective in sustaining a workable ethical system. Furthermore, there are nuances to take into consideration: even if the doctrine of free will was rejected, this did not mean that humans did not have a will, at all or that human choice was irrelevant.
Let us now turn to placing TriTrac within the above discussion on ancient views on will and its connection to ethics. We will begin by looking at how TriTrac depicts the will of God and its relation to the Logos’ creation and human will. Does TriTrac reject free will for all but the psychics, like Irenaeus’ Valentinians and as scholars seem to have maintained? I argue that the text formally rejects the theory of free will completely, even for psychics, and that the system presented in TriTrac fits ideas of the Christians Origen rejected, rather than Irenaeus’ opponents. TriTrac can indeed be viewed as presenting a deterministic system, in the sense that the text does not depend on the doctrine of free will for its ethics. At the end of the chapter I return to the question of the context of TriTrac’s anthropology.
3 Free Will and Moral Accountability in TriTrac
We begin with a brief note on terminology and then continue with a survey of the creation story, read from the perspective of the different technical terms that are attached to the concept of will. This is followed by an analysis of how TriTrac fits into the ancient discourse on free will.
3.1 A Few Notes on Terminology
In TriTrac the term ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ, “will” or “desire”, appears frequently, as a verb as well as a noun. The Greek equivalent is most probably θέληµα, but ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ can also be used for desire and love. ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ is mostly used neutrally (the term ⲣ-ϩⲛⲉ⸗75 also occurs) but, as I argue, also in a technical sense. In TriTrac we find several terms that were specific for discussions of free will during the first centuries, among pagans, Jews, and Christians alike. We encounter the term ⲧⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ, “self-determination” (αὐτεξούσιον), and the variant ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ, “the will of self-determination”. Of all the Nag Hammadi texts, this phrase only appears in TriTrac. The term proairesis (ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ/προαίρεσις) is used four times in TriTrac, and literally means pre-choice or preference. This term refers to the faculty of choice, and I will argue that in TriTrac it is used to define a person’s character. Proairesis is often used in the discussion of ancient views on human will and moral accountability.76 Other important terms used in TriTrac, also frequently encountered in connection with will, include: ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ, “disposition”; ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ, “consent”/”assent”; ⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ, “opinion”; as well as several terms we discussed in the previous chapter, like ⲉⲡⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ and ⲡⲁⲑⲟⲥ, “desire” and “passion”, and ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ/ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲗⲉⲩⲑⲉⲣⲟⲥ, “freedom”.
3.2 Will and the Creation Story
The first few pages of TriTrac are devoted to description of God, as far as this is possible from the apophatic stance TriTrac adopts. God is omnipotent and omnipresent and can thus not be limited. We read that the Father’s will (ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ), defined as “his power” (ⲧⲉϥϭⲁⲙ) (55:34–35), is “limitless” (ⲁⲧϣⲁⲡϥ̄) (54:23–24). God was not alone pre-existent but the Son and the Church are with him in the beginning. The same disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) that the Father has apply to the Son and Church as well. The Son has the disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) of being without beginning and end (58:14) and he is of the same substance (ⲟⲩⲥⲓⲁ) as the Father (58:37–38). The Father and the Son use their dispositions and virtues (ⲁⲣⲉⲧⲏ) to manifest the Aeons that make up the heavenly Church (59:3–10).77 The Church is described as having the same disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) as the Father and the Son. Since the Son and the Church are described as sharing the nature of the Father, one could draw the conclusion that the Son and the Church, too, are completely limitless and powerful, just like the Father, although this is not explicitly stated.
In TriTrac the Father’s immediate creations are the Aeons. The Father wills to bring forth Aeons who have wisdom and who have lingered in his thought (60:1–5, 62:27, 75:27–31). The Father’s will is extended to the Aeons and it is emphasized several times that the will that is given them, including the Logos’ will, is self-determining:
They (the Aeons) were fathers of the third glory, in accordance with the self-determination and the power begotten with them.78
And further below this is repeated:
The Aeons have brought [themselves] forth—in accord with the third fruit—by means of the self-determination of the will and through the wisdom which he provided their mind with.79
And again, one page later:
This Aeon (the Logos) was among those to whom wisdom was given, so that everything that first existed in his mind was that which he wished to bring forth. Therefore, he received a wise nature so that he could examine the hidden order, since he is a fruit of wisdom. The will of self- determination which the All (the Pleroma) was begotten with was the reason for this one’s conduct, causing him to do that which he wanted, with no one to restrain him.80
The Aeons are called “fathers” of three glories, or fruits, which refer to the three ways in which the Aeons honor and praise the highest Father as a collective.81 The term ⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ is in TriTrac only used regarding the Aeons. We read that the Father granted the Aeons faith so they could accept things they did not understand; this is, we read, a blessing, a fortune, a wisdom and a freedom (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ) (71:31–33). Faith is necessary because one cannot choose to know the Father; knowledge of the Father is granted by the Father himself and thus one must rely on one’s faith for this knowledge. We read that the Father wills the Aeons to know him and blend (ⲙⲟⲩϫϭ) with him and assist each other (71:34–72:15). This is the very first step of the creation.
The youngest Aeon, the Logos, wishes to give glory and tries to grasp the Father. Nothing restrains the Logos. He does it with his free will. The Logos has “the will of self-determination” (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ) (75:35–36). However, the Logos does not act contrary to the will of the Father. We read that “thus, the proairesis of the Logos, which is him, was good” (ⲧⲡⲣ̣ⲟ̣ⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ ϭⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲡ̣ⲉ̣ⲉⲓ ⲡⲉ ⲛⲉⲟⲩⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩϥ ⲡⲉ̣) (76:2–4).82 The term proairesis, or more literally pre-choice/preference, seems to refer to Logos’ faculty of choice on the other side of the limit to the Pleroma. There is no mention of proairesis in the Pleroma, there the creatures are described as having a self-determining will (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ). Proairesis is applied to the Logos and his offspring, and there is a distinction between those creations that come about from his good proairesis and those creations that result from his initial misstep, creatures we return to shortly. The Logos’ misstep comes about when he rushes forth in love (ⲧⲁⲅⲁⲡⲏ) toward the glory of God and as this happens the Logos is separated from the All, the Pleroma of Aeon (76:13–77:11). The separation is ultimately attributed to God, or more explicitly God’s will as is evident from the following passage:
The Father and the All withdrew from him, so that the limit which the Father had set might be established. It exists not to make firm the incomprehensibility but by the will of the Father and also so that the things that happened would come to be in an oikonomia that was to be. If it was to be, it would not happen through the appearance of the Pleroma. Thus, it is not fitting to criticize the movement which is the Logos, but it is fitting that we should say that the movement of the Logos is a cause of an oikonomia which has been destined to come about.83
What follows is the creation and organization initiated by the Logos. As we have discussed before, as a result of the separation from the Pleroma, the Logos brings forth different powers that are described as phantasms, shadows, and impressions, powers that lack reason and light (78:31–35). These were “imitations of the disposition” ([ⲡⲧ]ⲁⲛⲧⲛ̄ ⲛ̄ϯⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) (81:4) of the will of the Father who created the All. We read that these copies will cease existing in the end (79:1–4). The Logos realizes that he has given rise to something faulty and this causes him to become disturbed and distressed and he “repents” (ⲙⲉⲧⲁⲛⲟⲓⲁ). The Logos gives up creating from the opinion (ϯⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ) which is separated from the other Aeons and turns to “[another] opinion and another thought” ([ⲕⲉ]ⲅ̣ⲛ̣ⲱⲙⲏ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲕⲉⲙⲉⲉⲩⲉ) and to “what is good” (ⲛⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ) (81:23–26). His conversion results in the second creation of powers (ϩⲛ̄ϭⲟⲙ) and these powers we read are “greater than those of the imitation” (ⲛⲁⲩⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ϩⲟⲩⲟ ⲁⲛⲁ ⲡ[ⲓ]ⲧⲁⲛⲧⲛ̄) (82:16–17). The Logos places in these powers “a proairesis to seek and pray to him (the Father)” ([ⲛ̄]ⲛ̣ⲟⲩⲡⲣⲟⲉⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ ⲛ̣ϣⲓⲛⲉ [ⲁ]ⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲧⲱⲃϩ̄ ⲛⲧⲟⲟ[ⲧ]ϥ̄) (83:19–20). These two orders of powers are engaged in a perpetual struggle amongst each other. The Logos struggles to gain control of the situation and the Pleroma in an act of pity send the Savior to him. The Logos reacts to the appearance and creates the pneumatic substance/powers and we read that what the Logos brought forth “in accordance with the proairesis are in chariots” (ⲕⲁⲧⲁ ϯⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ ϩⲛ̄ ϩⲛ̄ϩⲁⲣⲙⲁ ⲛⲉ) (91:18–19). As discussed in Chapter 2, this image, of being in chariots, is most likely a reference to Plato’s description of the logical part of the soul’s (λογιστικόν) being like a charioteer in a cart made up of the soul and dragged by horses of matter (θυµοειδής and επιθυµητικόν).84 This image fits TriTrac very well because here the creatures “in chariots” constitute an Aeon—also called “the Church” because it resembles the assembly in the Pleroma—a sphere that stands above the two orders that combat each other (93:14–16, 94:21–23).
Humans are created according to these three substances, a mixture of the three, that mirror the pneumatic Church and the powers of the right and left side. Some humans, called the pneumatic class, recognize the appearance of the Savior right away and rush toward him and are granted knowledge (118:29–36). The psychic humans, we read, are brought forth from the disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) which is good, the right side of the Logos creation (120:7, 131:19), they thus they will be saved (130:26). Those who are not pneumatics or from the good disposition of the right side, belong to the left side. They prefer honor and temporary glory instead of assenting to the Savior (121:20). The psychics wish to know the Father because they recognize the fact that they were created (131:4). We read that the psychics will be saved if they have the correct opinion (ⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ) and will (ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ) and if they follow those who have the good proairesis (ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ) (131:30–32).
It is high time to unpack the above exposé. I begin with a recapitulation in light of other Christian ideas of creation and the nature of Will.
3.3 The Creation Story in Light of Other Christian Interpretations of the Will of God
We find in TriTrac a concept of the beginning of creation not at all uncommon among early Christian, Jewish, and pagan thinkers: the highest deity is alone and instigates creation through his will.85 In TriTrac the will of God is defined as one of God’s powers (ϭⲟⲙ) and God’s will is described as free and without limit. The idea that it is God who through his will, defined as his power, instigates creation was, as we have seen above, common in the first centuries.86
In a similar manner as many early Christian writers, like Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Tatian, and Origen, TriTrac emphasizes that the first beings created through the will of the Father have self-determination (αὐτεξούσια).87 For Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, and Tatian these creatures were the angels one could read about in Genesis. In TriTrac, there was a world—and thus also a creation—to take into account before the creation of angels and the cosmos. The same was true of Origen’s cosmogony. In TriTrac, free will seems to be limited to the first entities created, the Aeons. The Aeons are portrayed as combining their will with faith, in order to know God. Only God can grant knowledge of himself, and thus will is not enough. The combination of faith and will is also emphasized by Clement.88 However, in TriTrac the term “self-determination”, which is a technical term indicating free will, is limited to the Aeons. This term, self- determination, is not used for the beings in the Logos’ creation (which includes humans); only the Aeons in the Pleroma are portrayed as possessing it.
The Logos acts by his free will but it is also clear that the border between the Pleroma and the Logos that causes his isolation is raised by the Father: “The Father and the All drew away from him, so that the limit which the Father had set might become firm”.89 Thus, we read later that everything, including deficiency in the world, happened in accordance with the will of God: “For the will (of God) held the All under sin, so that by that will he might have mercy on the All and they might be saved”.90 TriTrac follows the same tradition found in Origen, that the organization of the material cosmos comes about so that the initial separation from God can be rectified. Origen’s discussion of the heavenly powers in On First Principles I.8.1–2 is similar to TriTrac’s discussion of the different powers the Logos orders; all have their part to play and are skilled in different ways. But TriTrac imposes several qualifications on the powers that populate the heavens that clearly differ from Origen’s portrayal of Intellects. One clear difference concerns the question of will. Origen’s Intellects become angels, demons, and human souls, and all have free will. In TriTrac, it is only the Intellects in the Pleroma, the Aeons as they are called in TriTrac (although nous is a concept used for them, too91), who have free will. In the level below, created by the Logos, it is much more complicated. As we have discussed in Chapter 1, the Intellects do not step down from the Pleroma, they are rather reproduced as images, likenesses, and imitations. The cosmic region is populated by these three different entities and in this realm the terms proairesis and opinion are used instead of will of self-determination (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ). TriTrac differs from Christians such as Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, Tatian, and Origen who tried to explain the presence of evil in the world by resorting to the creation of lower beings with free will who choose to act in despicable ways. In TriTrac, this is not possible since the only ones described as possessing a self-determining will (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ) are the perfectly harmonious Aeons in heaven who do no evil whatsoever. Thus, it would seem that TriTrac represents an early Christian text that tried to solve the problem of moral accountability in a completely different way than by resorting to the doctrine of free will, because free will was not viable in the cosmos. Why is the technical term self-determination (ⲧⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ) limited to the upper level, to the Aeons of the Pleroma? What is the function of the concept proairesis (ϯⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ) that becomes viable in the cosmic realm? Let us turn to these questions now.
3.4 Self-Determination: Absence of Impressions and Passions
As we saw above, Stoics developed a psychological theory that involved the thought that all humans were subjected to impressions (φαντασία) that appeared in the mind. Human cognition entailed organizing and reacting to these different impressions. Plato and Aristotle maintained that one’s actions depended on which parts of one’s mind were strongest, desire (ἐπιθυµία), temper (θυµός), or rational will (βούλησις). Stoics did not accept this division, nor did Christians like Origen and Clement, but instead counted the “irrational” parts like desire (ἐπιθυµία) and temper (θυµός) as particular kinds of passions and passions were disturbances in the mind.92 People decide through reason which impressions to assent to (συγκατάθεσις) and which to reject. Origen seems to belong to a similar tradition, he maintained that the reason Intellects had strayed from their original pure state was because they had assented to false impressions.93 A false impression was something that came from outside the mind, most often associated with sense-impressions, something that did not always lead to the good and thus did not necessarily correspond to the will of God. False impressions could be more or less strong, depending on the mind having them, and on how one had previously assented to them (somewhat as Aristotle had maintained about the effect of previous actions).94 A mind could be more or less infested with passions. A mind that was full of passions like fear and anger was prone to act on false impressions. For Stoics, a mind infested with passions was not completely free. This was probably a development of the notion (already discussed by Plato and Aristotle) that the person who only followed his rational will in choosing what to do could not fail to make correct decisions, decisions that correlated with the good. As we saw, Chrysippus had claimed that a thing was “up to you” if you were the cause of that action’s taking place. For example, if you were healthy enough to stand up, it was you yourself who decided to stand or remain seated. Later Stoics like Epictetus modified this and claimed that what was up to you was that which was possible for you to do in every possible circumstance, which was only choosing to stand up or remain seated, someone stronger than you could always prevent you from actually standing up.95 This was applied to the debate concerning the choices of a truly virtuous person. Later Stoics would maintain that a truly virtuous person who had rid himself of passion and gained complete self-determination could not act in an unvirtuous way (i.e. assent to a false impression); this would contradict being virtuous.96 This is a very specific idea of free will, one that I argue is also employed in TriTrac.
As seen above, in TriTrac the “will of self-determination” (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ) is limited to the very top level of creation, the aeonic Intellects in the Pleroma. The Aeons in the Pleroma are perfect beings; they are not subjected to passion, which only becomes viable in the aftermath of the Logos’ fall. The Intellects who have complete self-determination thus cannot assent to false impressions, indeed there are no false impressions or passions in the Pleroma to assent to. This is made clear on page 76 where the Aeons and the Logos are described as having complete self-determination. After the Logos rushes forward in love of God, the other Aeons “withdrew from him, so that the limit which the Father had set might be established”.97 At first glance, it could seem like the youngest Aeon makes an erroneous decision and is driven by passion although he has complete free will. However, as we saw in Chapter 2, a closer look at the description of the Logos makes clear that he is never driven by passion directly (love is a good emotion) and he does not become subjected to erroneous impressions until he is on the other side of the limit to the Pleroma. When the border is raised between Logos and the Pleroma there is no further mention of the Logos’ self-determination, instead we encounter the term proairesis (ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ), and as I argue shortly, even if this term is associated with the concept of choice (αἵρεσις), it is not equivalent to free choice in TriTrac. It is in the description of the Logos’ creation that impressions and passions become viable. Thus, TriTrac differs from the standard uses of impressions and passions that maintained that all Intellects were subjected to them. In TriTrac the Intellects of the Pleroma are not subjected to them at all. Passions and impressions are associated with the left side of the Logos’ creation (82:19, 95:7), what is later called the material part of creation (98:12–20), and matter does not exist in the Pleroma. As I discussed in the previous chapter, the passions were associated with materiality in ancient psychology because it was the body that was thought to entice passions.98 In TriTrac an impression (ⲟⲩⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ), or imagining (ⲣⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ) is always something negative, likened to falsehood, being driven by false impressions, and passion is likened to being “without form”.99 Only the Intellects in the Pleroma are in totally harmonious sync with the divine will and only there are actions only dependent on the one who acts.
For Origen, all angels, demons, and human souls had free will and all were subjected to impressions of different kinds. No one who once had a free will, according to Origen, ever lost it and thus never lost the ability to get reintegrated to God’s original collective (his theory of apokatastasis). TriTrac employs a different psychology that maintains that where there are impressions and passions there cannot be complete free will that corresponds to the will of God, because passion is contrary to God’s will. Although I believe this distinction is strongly influenced by Stoic psychology, Stoics would have put it somewhat differently. A free virtuous person did experience impressions (but not passions) but could not act on false impressions.100 In TriTrac this is radicalized. A truly self-determining Intellect did not act on impressions or passions because there were no false impressions or passions in the realm of true forms.
What are the implications of these differences concerning will for the ethics among humans on earth? It is obvious that TriTrac is not in the business of presenting a theory of free will as the basis for moral appraisal, like Origen and other Christian authors. I argue that TriTrac builds its ethics on similar grounds as the Stoics, that moral worth rested on each person’s proairesis, a faculty that was defined by the physical and mental composition of each individual. Here the notions proairesis and assent come in to play. Let us leave the Pleroma and the highest realm and see how the Stoic concept of assent and proairesis was envisioned and then see how it relates to TriTrac.
3.5 Proairesis , Assent, and Opinion in Stoicism and TriTrac
Chrysippus, perhaps the most famous of the early Stoics next to the founder Zeno, maintained that causal determinism was compatible with the idea that there were things that depended on us. There were things that one could choose to do and not to do, but the world was still determined by the Logos. The thing that was “up to us” to decide to do was how to react to an impression that is, people could choose to “assent” (συγκατάθεσις) to an impression or to withhold assent.101 Passions, as well as other predispositions and aversions, could influence a person, but the act of assenting was not predetermined. What was predetermined, however, were the physical causes leading to a particular impression’s appearing in the mind, and to what changes in the world the assent, or its withholding, would lead. This is expressed in the famous Stoic metaphor about human life being just like being tied to a moving cart: the road was already paved. The only thing that was up to us was our attitude; one had the choice of either walking next to the cart or being dragged along by it.102 Again, Epictetus built on earlier Stoic thought and said that the faculty which decided if a person assented to an impression or not was one’s proairesis (προαίρεσις), one’s choice/preference, or rather character, as Epictetus used the term. It was the proairesis that defined one’s moral self. Aristotle had used this term, as we saw above, for the choice (προαίρεσις), or the act of choosing. Epictetus uses it as the state which decided who you were. A proairesis with a good disposition (διάθεσις) assented to impressions that led to virtue. But if moral appraisal depended on the reaction to impressions in the mind, which depended on one’s proairesis, what did one’s proairesis depend upon? Your proairesis was partly the result of your circumstances, that is, the causes leading up to your birth and the development of your early life, determined by fate.103 You could influence your proairesis and build it up so as to construct for yourself a virtuous life, to align it to Nature, to the Logos which governed the cosmos. A weak proairesis needed to be developed so it could assent to virtuous impressions and refrain from assenting to false impressions (those which were not in accordance with Nature). This was done by education. Once your proairesis was morally sound you could act without the risk of falling for false impressions (which was the very definition of being a moral person). This ethical outlook received critique by those who felt that it was much too severe, that such a view did not allow for degrees of goodness.104
Alexander Kocar, drawing on Löhr’s work,105 has recently shown that there are similarities in the way TriTrac and Stoics accounted for moral responsibility.106 Kocar points out that how the different kinds of human classes react to the appearance of the Savior in TriTrac reminds us of the Stoic theory of assent (συγκατάθεσις).107 However, the employment of the Stoic theory of assent is in itself not that strange; rather, it seems to have been a fairly common way for early Christians interested in philosophy to conceptualize the workings of human psychology and cognition; we find it in Origen and Clement, for example.108 What is interesting to note, however, is the faculty that actually determined assent. This is the focus below. I argue that TriTrac uses the technical term proairesis (προαίρεσις) as what defined a person’s character. Proairesis, as well as γνώµη (opinion), is linked with the concept of assent.
As we just saw, Epictetus maintained that it was one’s proairesis that defined who one was. It was the disposition of one’s proairesis that decided what one assented to. A proairesis that was free of coercion was never something bad but always acted on the good. Here we have a notion of free will, but it is defined as always acting on the good. I argue that the notion of free will is somewhat modified in TriTrac. In TriTrac it is only the Aeons in the Pleroma who have free will and act according to the will of God while the Logos, when trapped outside the limits of the Pleroma, becomes exposed to impressions and passions that roam freely and is judged by the nature of his proairesis. We read that the Logos is not to blame because it was not by any fault of his own, and that “thus, the proairesis of the Logos, which is him, was good” (ⲧⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ ϭⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲉ ⲛⲉⲟⲩⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩϥ ⲡⲉ) (76:2–4).109 The word ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ seems to be the very thing that defines him, here in his life outside the Pleroma. In a later passage, we read that the things which the Logos “brought forth in accordance with the proairesis are in chariots … so that they may pass over all regions of activities lying below, and each one may obtain his fixed place in accordance with that which he is”.110 Logos’ good proairesis brings forth the pneumatics. The Logos also places in the second order of powers, the psychics, “a proairesis to seek and pray to the Father” (ⲟⲩⲡⲣⲟⲉⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ ⲛ̣ϣⲓⲛⲉ [ⲁ]ⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲧⲱⲃϩ̄ ⲛⲧⲟⲟ[ⲧ]ϥ̄) (83:19–20). Later in the text we read that the psychic humans can be saved, but only those who work together with the ones with a good proairesis and if they are willing to abandon falsehood:
And those who were brought forth from the desire of lust for command— because they have the seed of lust for command inside them—will receive the reward of good things, they who have worked together with those who have the good proairesis, provided they, in opinion and will, abandon the desire for vain temporary glory.111
We read that the powers of the left, and the humans who take after them, “are not of the good disposition (ϯⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ ⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲥ) of the right side but from the mixture and they instead preferred (ⲁⲩⲣϣⲁⲣⲡ̄ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲧⲡ̄) temporary honor and desire”.112 The Coptic ⲣϣⲁⲣⲡ̄ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲧⲡ̄ literally means “to pre-choose”, or “choose first”, and seems to corresponds to the Greek proairesis (προαίρεσις). The use of the concept proairesis, referring to the faculty of choice, stands in contrast to the way the aeonic Intellects are described. They live in a world devoid of passion and false impressions, and this is why they are also described as retaining “the will of self-determination” (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ) (75:35–36). In the cosmos, where impressions and passions roam, the different powers’ moral worth depends on the disposition of their proairesis, which could be good or bad. The completely free choice, a self-determined will (ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ), which is always good, is reserved for the Aeons in the Pleroma.
This is, I argue, the basis for the way the concept of assent is used in TriTrac. Those who have a good proairesis are portrayed as assenting (ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ) to the good, and to the appearance of the Savior/Son. The most common word for assent, συγκατάθεσις, is not found in TriTrac. However, it seems like TriTrac uses ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ, (perhaps most often translated “confess”, “profess” or “acknowledge”113) in an equivalent way. Cicero used this term (in the Latinized form homologia) as a word that seems to mean “the assent” to the good, in Stoic terms conformity to Nature.114 In TriTrac we read that the powers of the right side whose proairesis is disposed toward recognizing the world from above (83:18–21) assent (ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ) to the appearance of the Son. The Logos is also identified as having a good proairesis (76:2) and he also assents (ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ) to the Son (91:7–10). The left side, however, “they did not assent to him” (ⲥⲉⲣ̄ ϩⲟⲙ[ⲟ]ⲗⲟⲅ̣ⲓ̣ ⲙⲙⲁϥ ⲉⲛ·) (84:23–24), “they did not assent to the Son” (ⲙ̄ⲡⲟⲩⲣ̄ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ ⲙ̄ⲡϣⲏⲣⲉ) (120:36). This is understandable considering what we just read: their proairesis is prone to passion, temporary honor, and false impressions (121:19–25).115
Being able to assent to the good, to the Son, seems to be a direct result of the disposition (ⲧⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) of one’s proairesis, whether it was disposed to the good or the bad. This is something which makes the assent in TriTrac different from the Stoic concept of assent. The term ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ is never used when assenting to false impressions, only to the Savior and the good, and the word “impression” (φαντασία)—which has very negative connotations in TriTrac—is never used for the Savior. Furthermore, the pneumatic class in the Logos’ initial creation is never portrayed as assenting to the Savior, which from one perspective is understandable considering that the pneumatics were created after the Son’s appearance and as a result of it. The proairesis of the pneumatic powers is not commented upon but we do read that they are like “his (the Logos’) own substance” (102:15–16), and since the Logos is described as having a proairesis which is good, one could argue that the pneumatic powers have the same nature, although this is not stated explicitly. However, the proairesis of the pneumatic humans is mentioned. The pneumatic humans are those who have a good proairesis and whom the psychics are told to work together with (131:22–34). The tripartite heavenly organization of material, psychic, and pneumatic powers becomes the basis for the creation of humanity. When the Savior appears for a second time and finally shows himself to humans, those who react instantly to the appearance of the Savior are called the pneumatics (118:32–119:16). The psychics need convincing, while the material people reject him at the outset and instead pursue worldly glory and honor, due to the disposition of their proairesis (118:32–119:16, 120:36, 121:19–25). The psychic humans who are to be saved are those “have worked together with those who have the good proairesis, provided they, in opinion and will, abandon the desire for vain temporary glory”.116
I argue that the idea of a good proairesis, or rather having a disposition that makes you choose the good before the bad (προαίρεσις), is the way TriTrac conceptualized moral worth. But proairesis is not the only term used for a person’s moral status in TriTrac. The term opinion (ⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ),117 as we just saw, also seems to be connected to assent and proairesis. Opinion, or judgement (ⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ), is a term that appears in ancient discussions on cognition, referring to the judgment that one reaches when presented with impressions of different kinds.118 One could have a correct or incorrect opinion (γνώµη). A correct opinion was based on truth and knowledge. With a firm and good proairesis, one’s opinions lead to the good.119 In TriTrac there is no opinion in the Pleroma, just like there is no good or bad proairesis, nor are there any impressions or passions. Opinions are something that belong to the lower world, while in the Pleroma there is only truth, knowledge and the will of God. In the world, however, there are opinions, impressions, passions, and substances that reflect the truth to differing degrees. We read that the powers that are able to be saved need to be saved from their opinions and their rebellion, and when the Logos repents from his initial unrest he changes to a different opinion from the erroneous one he had when he acted on impressions while in an unstable state (81:18–23). When the Logos fell, he was of an erratic opinion (115:20) but then the Aeons helped their brother, “concerning opinion” (ϩⲛ̄ ϯⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ) (86:31). The powers on the right are of a good opinion. These powers are able to bring forth a unity of opinion through the proairesis which the Logos planted in them (83:10–32). When the powers had the right opinion, they assented to the light, the Son, that appeared to them (89:18). The first human, however, before the coming of the Savior, “its opinion is split in two” (ⲉⲧⲉϥⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ ⲡⲏϣ ⲁⲡⲉⲥⲛⲉⲩ) (106:23), split between the material and psychic. The psychics need to prove that they are of the good (ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ) and this is done if “they will through an opinion” (ⲉⲩϣⲁⲣ ϩⲛⲉⲩ ϩⲛⲛ ⲟⲩⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ) (131:32) to abandon the ways of error (130:29). It seems that the right side of the Logos’ creation and the psychics are judged by the status of their proairesis, which determines the way they form and act on their opinions. Thus, even though free will, in its strict sense, is restricted to the Aeons above, contrary to the writings of church fathers like Origen, and Tatian—as well Irenaeus’ Valentinians in Against Heresies I (6.1) and those of ExcTheod 56:3 who imagined that the psychics had free will—the psychics in TriTrac at least have some choice. Even though they are not prone to the good in the same way as the pneumatics, they are able to choose to follow their example, and we read that the psychics are responsible for their own opinion and will (131:30–34). Nevertheless, TriTrac places great significance on the exposure to passions and false impressions; it was impossible to be exposed to them and completely retain self-determination, and thus this perfection is projected onto the Pleroma. Only the actions in the Pleroma are completely free and thus also always in accordance with the will of God. Thus, TriTrac avoids the critique that Stoics received, that their notion of free will meant that those people who had it never made mistakes, they could not make mistakes. Free will seems to be defined in the same way in TriTrac but humans do not have it; not even the pneumatics are described as possessing free will, because it is not a viable state in the world. Opinion and proairesis belong to the realm below the Pleroma and must be developed and proven by rejecting passion and false impressions and assenting to the appearance of the Savior.
In TriTrac the term ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ, freedom, is used for the status granted humans who have left the life of ignorance and passion, who have become harmoniously integrated into the Christian community (117:17–118:14).120 However, there are differences between freedom (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ), self-determination (ⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ), and proairesis (ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ). Unlike the terms proairesis and self-determination, the word freedom (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ) is not related to the questions of moral worth. The same seems to be the case with the Greek equivalent ἐλευθερία in discussions on the relation between choice and morality.121 Freedom in this sense means the opposite of slavery, which in TriTrac is defined as ignorance and being under the control of passions. In the following passage this becomes clear. We read that salvation means …
… the release from the captivity and the acceptance of freedom. In its places, the captivity of those who were slaves of ignorance holds sway. The freedom is the knowledge of the truth which existed before the ignorance was ruling, forever without beginning and without end, being something good, and a salvation of things, and a release from the servile nature in which they have suffered. Those who have been brought forth in a lowly thought of vanity, that is, (a thought) which goes to things which are evil through the thought which draws them down to the lust for power, these have received the possession which is freedom, from the abundance of the grace which looked upon the children. It was, however, a disturbance of the passion and a destruction of those things which he cast off from himself at first, when the Logos separated them from himself, (the Logos) who was the cause of their being destined for destruction, though he kept <them> at <the> end of the oikonomia and allowed them to exist because even they were useful for the things which were ordained.122
Here we see how freedom is defined as release from ignorance and passion, and how the Logos was able to reject passions but still use them in his organization. TriTrac’s moral system does not hinge on the doctrine of free will like many early Christian systems. Freedom from ignorance is a reward but true self-determination can only be enjoyed in the re-integrated state of the Pleroma, where passions never existed in the first place. The moral system of TriTrac is thus built on a model where one’s moral worth depended on the disposition of one’s proairesis. It was the nature of your proairesis, your faculty of choice, that determined if you could assent to the good and reject passion and false impressions. What proairesis you had depended on your mental composition, whether you were driven by your pneumatic, psychic or material parts and preferences. In the next part of the study we explore further how this system would have worked socially.
3.6 A Summary Regarding the Nature of Choice in TriTrac
In conclusion, the ethical theory in TriTrac, contrary to many other early Christian systems, did not rest on the doctrine of free will. As long as passion and false impressions, which had their bases in materiality, was viable there could be no self-determination. Matter is associated with passion and false impression and did not come about through the will of God. Thus, unlike Stoicism, TriTrac presents a moral system where no individuals in the cosmic creation of the Logos possessed complete self-determination. Similarly to Stoicism, TriTrac likens free will to moral perfection. A mind that was totally self-determining was in tune with the will of God and would always act in accordance with it. This state was not viable in the cosmos. No one in the cosmos is described as being in the possession of a self-determining will, instead the creatures in the cosmic system have a proairesis, which can be good or bad, that is, more or less prone to assent to the Savior. The different categories humans can retain on the moral scale are connected to the heavenly powers in the Logos creation. The material powers are those whose proairesis is prone to passion and false impressions. The psychics’ proairesis is inclined to both error and truth but they have the ability to recognize and follow the Savior/the good. The pneumatics stand above these two powers. They make up a superior church above. Humans consist of a mixture of these three substances. The substance with which one is associated, the inclinations one has, becomes known with the appearance of the Savior on earth.
In what sense then, considering that there is an aspect of choice for the psychics, can the system of TriTrac be called a deterministic one? It is certainly deterministic in the sense that it seems to reject the notion that not everyone could choose the good at any given time. Those who do not act on the good are the material people, because they are so deeply mixed with their bodily passion that they are not able to recognize the Savior and assent to his appearance. Passions and false impressions are strong influences, which we saw in Chapter 2. It was the nature of your proairesis that decided your moral worth, and your proairesis was decided on the basis of whether you had the ability to assent to the appearance of the Savior and could reject false impressions and passion. As with the Stoics, TriTrac does not represent ‘hard determinism’ (if this ever really existed in practice); there was room for moral improvement. Thus, you could improve your proairesis and your circumstances, but this took effort. It was a mental struggle. As we see in the Part II, both psychics and pneumatics have the ability to improve. By highlighting the mental side of the mechanisms deciding moral worth—through the above discussion on proairesis, opinion, and the influence of passion and false impressions—we gain a better view of the provisions that lay at the foundation of a psychic or pneumatic character. In Part II we explore more deeply what exactly this struggle entails, and the mental and theoretical basis of ethics discussed here will be complemented with a practical and social side.
Some patristic scholars have described the early Christian discussions on free will as taking place between the orthodox side representing free will and the ‘heretic’ side, often exemplified by the Valentinians, representing determinism.123 The idea that humans possessed completely free will was unusual during the first centuries. It became more common when Christian and Platonic cosmogonic systems encountered the problem of how evil came into the world, an ‘evil’ or shortage most often attributed to the material side, the eternal dyad juxtaposing the Demiurge.124 The side of ‘determinism’ is often misrepresented as a crude attitude towards human decision-making. The fact is very much the opposite, at least if we take TriTrac and Stoics as examples. Stoics were not determinists in the sense that they thought that human choices did not matter, and the same is true of TriTrac. One could assent or withhold assent to an impression, this was “up to us”, because each person acted according to their proairesis, according to who they were. A good person acted on the good and a bad person did not assent to the good, that was the very definition of the morally just and unjust. One’s proairesis was determined by the status of one’s mind in relation to its surroundings. Some people, however, simply could not see the truth even if it appeared to them, while for others knowledge of the truth came naturally. As we have seen, the Stoics were at times subjected to critique from their contemporaries, some of whom thought that this was too rigid a moral system.125 What has been less studied is the intra Christian debate concerning similar issues.
In an attempt to contextualize the deterministic stance of TriTrac with which we have become familiar, and in an attempt to approach TriTrac’s intellectual context, I now compare TriTrac to the views of Origen’s opponents in On First Principles, who, as Irenaeus’ Valentinians, were accused of ethical debauchery resulting from a deterministic world view.
4 TriTrac’s Anthropology in Context: Origen’s Christian Opponents
Irenaeus criticized Valentinians for maintaining that only the psychics have free will (αὐτεξούσιον), while the materials were thought to be lost and the pneumatic saved.126 This view, as we have seen, is not reflected in TriTrac. However, it does fit a part of ExcTheod (56:3). Here the psychics are presented as possessing self-determination (αὐτεξούσιον). Thus, the Valentinians of ExcTheod as well as Irenaeus’ Valentinians who claim that the psychics have free will do not align themselves with TriTrac, even though this is often thought to be the case in discussions on the ‘Valentinian’ tripartite anthropology.127
There were, however, church fathers other than Irenaeus and Clement who were engaged in debates over free will. Origen was one of them, and he was also familiar with a similar Valentinian anthropology which Irenaeus and Clement described, where humanity is divided into three classes, and where the middle class (the psychics) is thought to be able to freely choose between salvation and damnation. Origen describes Heracleon’s view of the psychic class of humans in this way, in his work Commentary on John.128 But Origen seems to be familiar with other Valentinians too, who differed from Heracleon, Valentinians “who introduce the natures” (οἱ µὲν τὰς φύσεις εἰσάγοντες).129 I will here argue that these Valentinians Origen opposed, mainly in his text On First Principles, retained views on free will similar to those in TriTrac that we have discussed above that reject free will in general for humans.
Origen developed his thoughts on free will in his work On First Principles, which was written, he says, in order to sort out the confusion among some Christians.130 In his work, he mentions Valentinus, Marcion, Basilides,131 some of whom imagine that people are saved or lost already from the beginning. Origen maintained that everyone had the quality of self-determination (αὐτεξούσιον)—for Origen αὐτεξούσιον seems to be the same as free will to decide between good and evil at any given time—and one could never lose it; one could always choose the good. As we have seen, Clement was of a similar view. Origen, like TriTrac, utilized the theory of assent in his ethical systems; one’s moral worth was determined by how one reacted to impressions in one’s mind.132 However, while Origen (and Clement, too) uses the concept of assent together with free will (αὐτεξούσιον),133 in TriTrac, as I have shown above, assent to the good is not determined by free will but rather depends on the disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) of one’s proairesis (ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ), which is not completely free. It is such a system against which Origen reacted when stating that his Christian opponents rejected the doctrine of free will and thus misinterpreted the Bible and ended up with an unethical stance.134 Origen writes that his opponents:
destroy self-determination (τὸ αὐτεξούσιον) by bringing in lost natures, which cannot receive salvation, and on the other hand saved natures, which are incapable of being lost.135
As we have seen, in TriTrac the material substances in the Logos’ creation are lost and it is the pneumatic powers who recognize the Savior. As we have also seen, TriTrac rejects the concept of αὐτεξούσιον as being viable in the realm of humans and angels, but it remains a part of the highest world where no passions or outside influences coerce its inhabitants. Origen rejects this idea, however, when he maintains that self-determination (τὸ αὐτεξούσιον) is not defined as the absence of external influence:
But to throw the blame for what so happens to us on external things and to free ourselves from censure, declaring that we are like stocks and stones, which are dragged along by agents that move them from without, is neither true nor reasonable, but is the argument of a man who desires to contradict the idea of free will (αυτεξουσίου). For if we were to ask such a one what free will was, he would say it consisted in this, that when I proposed to do a certain thing no external cause arose which incited me to do the opposite.136
Here Origen describes what we have encountered in the Pleroma of TriTrac: a place where there is no outward coercion but where self-determination (αὐτεξούσιον) reigns. There are no impressions, matter, or opinions in the Pleroma; the beings there are solely dependent on themselves for their actions.
Origen was of the view that the stars, the powers in the heavens, were good beings that lived blessed lives without influencing humans on earth in a negative way.137 Indeed, he writes in Commentary on Matthew that the Valentinians and Basilideans were wrong to portray the powers in heaven as influencing humans in any way.138 As we saw in Chapter 2, this is a view represented in TriTrac.
In one passage in On First Principles, where Origen argues against his Christian opponents, he discusses Rom 9:18–21 and 2 Tim 2:20–21. In Second Timothy, we read that there are many different utensils in a house and each has its special use and if used correctly each one brings good.139 In Romans, Paul writes that it is not our place to question why God made us the way he did. God makes people special or ordinary as he sees fit.140 Origen discusses these two passages and rejects how his opponents interpret them:
Now someone will say, if just as the potter from the same lump makes some vessels for honor and some for dishonor, so God makes some creatures for salvation and some for destruction, then salvation or destruction does not rest with us nor are we possessed of free will.141
Here Origen’s opponents seem to have rejected the notion that humans possess free will. It is not, as Irenaeus wrote, that his Valentinian opponents thought that only the psychics had free will, but that humans overall lack it. TriTrac, as we have seen, projects self-determination onto the Pleroma. Some passages in TriTrac work well as interpretations of Rom 9:18–21 and 2 Tim 2:20–21, for example, those that deal with the creations of the Logos that seek temporary honor but who are still useful in the organization.142
It is clear, however, that most of the passages that Origen interprets in On First Principles are not represented in TriTrac, like the hardening of the heart of Pharaoh in Exodus (4:21 and 7:3) that some apparently used as an argument for the proposition that it was up to God to influence people in their choices, and as an example that humans lacked the free will to take a stance on their own salvation. This would indicate that TriTrac was not the only Christian anthropological system that restricted free will. Unfortunately, few other texts remain that are detailed enough to enable us to draw the conclusion that they represent an anthropology similar to that which Origen discussed. There are, however, other Valentinian texts that seem to propose a fixed anthropology. One candidate is GosTruth. In this text we read that some people are broken from the start while others are perfect and meant for salvation.143 Another candidate is InterpKnow, where we read of naturally gifted spiritual members of whom the other members of the congregation are envious, and here it is made clear that people have specific roles to play in the community.144 Neither of these texts consists of detailed cosmogonical expositions, like TriTrac. Rather, they are homilies,145 so it is perhaps not strange that we do not find the particular terminology pertaining to discussion of free will; neither is the cosmogony detailed enough to make out the particular stance of what at a first glance looks like fixed anthropologies. Furthermore, both these texts also differ in anthropology from TriTrac, proposing a bipartite rather than a tripartite anthropology.146 I am not claiming that determinism was a Valentinian trait, but I do argue that determinism was not a polemical invention, but rather a viable option, and that some Christians developed their ethics by utilizing it, rather than the doctrine of free will. What is more, some of the earliest Christian texts which gained high standing among many Christians could easily have been used to support a form of determinism. The Gospel of John, for example—which presents the Jews as not being able to hear the word of God because they are of this world (8:33–47) while Jesus’ disciples are not of this world and have been elected (15:19, 17:14–16)—has been interpreted by many modern scholars as presenting a form of determinism.147 Passages like these were most likely developed in light of Hellenistic philosophy and laid the foundations for alternative ethical systems than those favored free will for all (although I am not here arguing for the fact that John was the chief inspiration for the anthropology of TriTrac, as we have seen, the Jews in TriTrac are not presented as belonging to the cosmos). One text that could be interpreted as presenting a fixed anthropologic stance similar to TriTrac is Apocalypse of Peter (NHC VII, 3).148 Here we read of some people that are a “generation of blind people” (ϩⲉⲛⲃ̄ⲗ̄ⲗⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲓⲥⲉ) (83:3) whose minds are closed and thus cannot be persuaded to know truth. Some people have cosmic souls while others have an immortal soul from heaven. Some people “will first receive our teaching but turn away again in accordance with the will of the father of their error because they have done what he wanted”149 and further on we read that “for every soul of these ages has death assigned to it, in our view. Consequently, it is always a slave … But the immortal souls, O Peter, are not like these”.150
I will not engage with these prospective deterministic texts further here—even though there are also interesting material connections linking Codex I, VII, and XI—but suffice it to say that TriTrac was most likely not alone in proposing a deterministic stance.
I argue that TriTrac is a viable example of the views held by Origen’s opponents and as such it is an invaluable asset for the study of early Christian ethics and the development of the doctrine of free will, although this was not the only viable option. In fact, Origen’s view that everyone could choose the good, at every given time, also received critique. Jerome tells us that a certain Valentinian named Candidus thought that:
… the devil has an evil nature which can never be saved. To that Origen answers rightly that the devil is not destined to perish because of his substance, but he fell by his own will and he can be saved. Because of that, Candidus calumniates Origen, making him say the devil is of a nature that must be saved, while actually Origen is refuting Candidus’ false objection.151
Here we encounter echoes of the other side of the early Christian debate concerning free will versus determinism.152 Even though the devil is not mentioned in TriTrac,153 we do read of material powers responsible for killing Jesus (120:29–121:14), and the material powers (associated with impression and passion) are described as destined to be lost in the end (79:1–4). From the perspective of Origen’s opponents, it was Origen who harbored extreme views, for example the idea that no one would ever lose touch with salvation, to the degree that the devil could, and indeed would, be saved in the end.154 Origen maintained that the doctrine of free will was at the core of Christianity, that true Christians maintained that one’s will was endowed with αὐτεξούσιον.155 Origen’s insistence on the importance of the doctrine of free will becomes understandable when considering that there actually were Christians who presented viable options for life in the world without the doctrine of absolute free will. The role of free will became a central doctrine, like so many other doctrines, not as a natural stage of development but as a result of intra-Christian debate.156
Origen was not the only one who wrote tractates against Valentinians on the topic of free will. Methodius of Olympus, who is often said to have been Origen’s first systematic opponent, also wrote a treatise on free will, simply called On Free Will.157 This text is structured as a dialogue between the two main characters called ‘the Orthodox’ and ‘the Valentinian’. The dialogue is largely devoted to the relationship between matter and God. The Valentinian first presents the view that matter was coexistent with God and that evil resides in it. The Orthodox rejects this and instead takes the position that matter was created and formed by God but that there was no evil in it. Rather than matter, it was the free choice of humans that brought evil into the picture; Methodius clarifies this in the latter part of the treatise. The association between matter and evil is reminiscent of how TriTrac describes creation. But the Valentinian’s way of presenting the creation of matter differs from TriTrac in one crucial way: in TriTrac matter does not coexist with God from the beginning but is presented as an illusion resulting from being absent from God. While the Orthodox argues for the ‘orthodox’ view of free will, the Valentinian takes the position that evil resides in matter and not the free will of man, which is the same basic stance which is presented in TriTrac—rather than that presented by Irenaeus or ExcTheod where free will does not seem to be attached to the subject of the nature of matter. However, it is clear that while Methodius directs his attention toward, and rejects, the opinion that matter is the cause of evil rather than human free will—which is applicable to TriTrac—the level of sophistication with which the Valentinian’s opinion is presented, wherein free will is rejected as the origin of evil, is quite undeveloped in comparison to the attention devoted to the opposite view. TriTrac could thus be seen as a more sophisticated version of the stance that free will (which is always something positive) is not the origin of evil, but, rather, matter, which ultimately has nothing to do with God, as Methodius’ character ‘the Valentinian’ would say.
It is unclear how the views of Methodius’ Valentinian character relates to Valentinian theology (as defined in the Introductory Chapter above), and it is difficult to make a connection to the Valentinians Origen rejects in On First Principles, the sources are just too meager. It is, nevertheless, clear that Methodius’ Valentinian, TriTrac, and the Valentinian opponents of Origen resemble each other in several key ways. It has been suggested recently that Methodius strove to clarify parts of Origen’s theology rather than reject it entirely;158 in the case of the question of free will, both Origen and Methodius stood in opposition to the view one can find in TriTrac.
There is a third text that debates the topic of free will in a form of a dialogue between Valentinians and ‘orthodox’ Christians. This treatise is today mostly known as The Adamantius Dialogue. The origin of this text is unclear. Gregory the Theologian and Basil the Great, as well as Rufinus who translated the work into Latin in the fourth century, all attribute it to Origen (who was sometimes nicknamed Adamantius). Yet, based on the content of the dialogue which does not fit Origen’s style and theology, Robert Pretty, who has closely studied the text and its background, rejects the idea that Origen was the author.159 The only mention of an author for this text is by Eusebius, who tells us it is the work of a certain Maximus. Eusebius also attributes Methodius of Olympus’ text On Free Will to Maximus, however, so it is possible that Eusebius in fact refers to Methodius and just has the name wrong. In fact, long passages of The Adamantius Dialogue seem to consist of extracts from Methodius’ work On Free Will. What makes The Adamantius Dialogue interesting for our purposes, is the part of the dialogue devoted to the question of the origin of evil and the doctrine of free will. This part of the text is a conversation set between several characters: Droserius who reads aloud the views identified as being those of Valentinus; Valens, a Valentinian who at least initially supports Valentinus’ view that evil derives from matter; and Adamantius and Eutropius, who reject Valentinus’ view and instead argue that evil derives from human free will. Large parts of this dialogue are extracts from Methodius’ treaty On Free Will and the conclusion is much the same: evil is not connected to substance but to conduct. More polemic material is inserted, however, that rejects Valentinus’ views, and Valens’ interpretations of them, more strongly, although the ‘Valentinian’ stance is presented in much the same manner as Methodius: evil originates from matter, but God did not have anything to do with it. This case is rejected in the dialogue as “extremely difficult to follow, and unreasonable”.160 Part four of the dialogue ends with a short discussion concerning the nature of Christ’s body, and the doctrine presented by a character named Marinus (who is suddenly introduced into the discussion), who claims that Christ’s body was not of matter. This stance is then rejected as blasphemy.
Even though we do not learn any new details about the ‘Valentinians’ who reject the doctrine of free will, it remains clear that the question of free will was important and widely discussed in the third and fourth centuries. Rufinus, who copied The Adamantius Dialogue and who was a supporter of Origen during the Origenist Controversy, might have copied the text in an attempt to highlight Origen’s orthodoxy in a time when anti-Origenist tendencies were beginning to flare up. For anyone interested in gaining deeper and more detailed insights into the systems that Origen and others were rejecting, TriTrac would have been—and still is today—of great interest. By gaining insights into the views of Christian contenders for the opposite side of the debate on free will, we are able to contextualize Origen’s insistence that the doctrine of free will be placed in the center of the Christian identity.
What becomes clear is the extent to which Valentinians were associated with the rejection of free will. As I have shown in this chapter, the view that there were Christians who rejected free will was not a mere polemical fantasy; other sophisticated ethical systems did exist that competed with those resting on the doctrine of free will.
One crucial aspect remains to be addressed. In the next part, we tackle the questions that naturally follow from the findings I have presented thus far: to what social implications would the view on human behavior and choice seen in TriTrac give rise? What is the collective of which one needs to become part in order to attain knowledge of God? Who exactly are material, psychic, and pneumatic people? How are these people to relate to each other and to society? If humans are not completely free, exactly how far does the human faculty of choice reach? In short, the next part is devoted to grounding the theoretical questions that have been the topic so far in the social reality of Christians living in the Roman empire of the third and fourth centuries.
See for example Dihle, Theory of Will; Frede, A Free Will; Karamanolis, Philosophy.
For a discussion about the earlier perspectives in ‘Gnostic’ Studies, see i.1.1 above, and see the previous note for references to Christian ethics’ being based in the doctrine of free will.
See, for example, Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1; Origen, Against Celsus V.61; On First Principles II.9.5.
For discussion of ethics in Valentinian works, see, for example, Desjardins, Sin in Valentinianism; Williams, Rethinking; Ismo Dunderberg, Beyond; Tite, Valentinian Ethics; and most recently Kocar, “Humanity”, 193–221.
See Williams, Rethinking, 189–212; Denise Kimber Buell, Why this New Race? (New York: Columbia University Press, 2005), 116–137; Attridge and Pagels, “The Tripartite Tractate”, 446–447.
As Williams has shown, particularly in regard to the Sethian literature, in Williams, Rethinking, 198–212.
For literature on the different terms used in antiquity for the notion of “will” and its development, see, for example, Charles Kahn, “Discovering the Will: From Aristotle to Augustine” in The Question of “Eclecticism”, eds. J. Dillon and A. A. Long (Berkley: University of California Press, 1988), 234–259; John D. Madden, “The Authenticity of Early Christians of Will (Thelesis)”, in Maximus Confessor: actes du symposium sur Maxime le Confesseur, eds. F. Hernzer and C Schönborn (Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires, 1982), 61–79. For more on the earliest Greek views on the concept of will and cognition, see Dihle, Theory of Will, 20–67.
Frede, A Free Will, 1–30; Sorabji, Emotions, 319–340.
Plato, Laws 86b, 904b–c.
The exception would perhaps be the Cynics. E. R. Dodds has discussed the obsession with rationality among the Greeks and criticized the idea that this meant that only rationality was legitimate. See E. R. Dodds, The Greek and the Irrational (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004 [1951]).
There were of course divergences from this thought also, although rare; for example, the Skeptics who did not want to make a judgment on whether the world was rational or not. Isocrates in Plato’s Phaedrus 237b–c maintains that no one can know the reason things happen; all one can do is to plan the best course in a world which is governed by forces beyond human control. For more, see Dihle, Theory of Will, 42.
Much of what we know, or think we know, of classical Greece is based on sources from Athens. However, there were considerable differences between the different city states of Classical Greece (for example the role of women, or education, in Athens compared to Sparta) See for example Elaine Fantham, Women in the Classical World (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995); Jean Ducat, Spartan Education: Youth and Society in the Classical Period (Swansea: The Classical Press of Wales, 2006). Thus, we should be careful to generalize when discussing ethics, for example, so as not to apply attitudes to a place/time for which we lack sources.
Aristotle’s view is not crystal clear, according to Richard Sorabji. At one point Aristotle locates will in the rational part of the soul while at another he writes that the will should be counted among other desires, like θυµός and ἐπιθυµία. Plato also made a distinction between βούλησις and θυµός, in that βούλησις will not be opposed by θυµός in conflicts with ἐπιθυµία, a baser form of desire. For a thorough discussion of these issues in Plato and Aristotle, see Sorabji, Emotions, 322–323.
For more on the pre-Socratic, epic, and poetic portrayal of moral behavior, or right versus wrong actions, see Dihle, Theory of Will, 20–47. There is of course the paradigmatic work The Greek and the Irrational by E. R. Dodds to consider, a work which highlights that ‘the rational’ was an ideal, rather than a practical reality. See Dodds 1951. Nicola Denzey Lewis has in turn criticized the overly pessimistic picture Dodds drew up of Late antique ‘mentality’ in his very influential sequel work Pagans and Christians in an Age of Anxiety: Some Aspects of Religious Experience from Marcus Aurelius to Constantine (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965). See Denzey Lewis, Cosmology and Fate, 13–28 where Dodds’ representation of the ancient worldview is deconstructed. Already Peter Brown noted the limits of Dodds’ generalizations in his work Religion and Society in the Age of Saint Augustine (London: Harper & Row, 1972).
For Aristotle’s use of προαίρεσις, see Nicomachean Ethics III.1111b5–1113a33, VI.1139a31–b13. For a discussion of Aristotle’s use of the concept, see Frede, A Free Will, 26ff; Sorabji, Emotions, 310–311, 325–327. Προαίρεσις has been translated in many different ways by scholars: for example, willful choice, choice, free will, policy, volition. In the end, the term has been applied to so many things that it needs to be explained. Aristotle, who is the first to use this term in relation to human will and choices, does not seem to use it as some later Stoics did, as meaning a faculty that defined a person, because, as Sorabji notes, when Aristotle “discusses people who fail to abide by their προαίρεσις, he does not present this as due to their proairesis being weak (Sorabji, Emotions, 326). Some later Platonists seems to have been influenced by the Stoic interpretation and argued that one was one’s proairesis. For a thorough discussion of the use of the term among Neoplatonists, see John M. Rist, “Prohairesis: Proclus, Plotinus et alii”, in De Jamblique a Proclus, ed. Bent Dalsgaard Larsen (Genève: Vandœuvres, 1974), 103–117.
Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics III.1111b29–30, 1145b21–1146b5, 1112b–24.
One should perhaps avoid creating a dichotomy between will on the one side and appetite and honor on the other; one governed by reason and the other irrational. They are sometimes all described as forms of desire, connected to reason, only to a greater or lesser degree. See Frede, A Free Will: 19–30; Sorabji, Emotions, 325–327.
For a discussion on whether Aristotle can be said to have entertained a concept of free choice, and an argument against this idea, see Susanne Bobzien, “Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics III.1113b7–8 and Free Choice”, in What is Up to Us? Studies on Agency and Responsibility in Ancient Philosophy, eds. Pierre Destrée et al. (Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 2014), 59–74.
Although the idea closely follows Plato’s statement in Theaetetus 191–195 that the mind is like a wax tablet and that the way humans perceive things was as if the outside world, via the senses, left imprints on the wax tablet of the mind. For details of the development of Stoic epistemology and psychology see Brad Inwood, ed., The Cambridge Companion to the Stoics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).
As told, for example, by Sextus Empiricus, Against the Logicians I.228–231.
SVF II.52, 55, 61; Long and Sedley, Hellenistic Philosophers, 236–241.
Chrysippus introduced the concept of “assent” and maintained that the things that depended on us were assent or dissent to impressions. For more on the Stoic theory of assent, see A. A. Long, “Freedom and Determinism in the Stoic Theory of Human Action”, in Problems in Stoicism, ed. A. A. Long (London: Athlone Press, 1971), 173–199; Bobzien, Determinism, 274–290. For an ancient source on Chrysippus, see SVF II–III.
For a discussion about Stoic views on passions, see above Chapter 2.
Epictetus, Discourses I.1.10–12, IV.1.72–73. For a more thorough discussion of Epictetus, see further below.
Susanne Bobzien, “Stoic Concept of Freedom and their Relation to Ethics”, in Aristotle and After, ed. Richard Sorabji (London: Institute of Classical Studies, 1997), 71–89.
For example, SVF I.218; for more, see Long and Sedley, Hellenistic Philosophers, 359–368, 431–432.
Plotinus, Ennead VI.8. See also Dillon, “An Ethic”, 329–330, where Dillon discusses Plotinus’ view on freedom in relation to ethics and recognizes his dependence on Stoic thought.
A. A. Long, Epictetus: A Stoic and a Socratic Guide to Life (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 221–222.
Frede, A Free Will, 66–89, 85.
Frede, A Free Will, 79–81.
Mark 14:36; Matt 26:39; Luke 22:42.
Rom 8:6. There are other interesting passages for exegetes who sought answers to the question of will in the Bible. Origen, for example, discusses several of them. I discuss these briefly below.
Karamanolis, Philosophy, 145.
Cicero, On the Laws I.27; Seneca, Epistles 95; Pliny the Elder, Natural History II.27.
Origen, Against Celsus VI.53–54, V.14.
Plato, Timaeus 47e–48b, 51e, 53a–b. For a survey of the reception of Plato’s Timaeus concerning the idea of the Demiurge, chiefly among Middle Platonists, see O’Brien, The Demiurge in Ancient Thought.
For more on this see Geoffrey Smith, “Irenaeus, the Will of God, and Anti-Valentinian Polemics: A Closer Look at Against the Heresies 1.12.1”, in Beyond the Gnostic Gospels: Studies Building on the Work of Elaine Pagels, eds. E. Iricinshi et al. (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013): 93–123.
Frede, A Free Will, 125–152.
2 Clement 1.8; Ignatius, Epistle to the Smyrnaeans 1.1; Theophilus, Apology to Autolycus II.22; Tatian, Address to the Greeks 5.5; Origen, On First Principles II.9.1.
There was a difference between human evil and natural catastrophes, like floods, famines, or earth quakes which could and most often were attributed to the providence of God, there was always a reason why they happened and one had to trust that divine providence made the best of the situation. Some Stoics, however, attributed bad things happening to Fate, but it was nevertheless for the greater good, and according to the plan of the Logos. In many circles, however, among certain Christians especially, Fate was to grow into an ominous character. For more on fate, see Denzey Lewis, Cosmology and Fate, 31–34, 89–90.
This echoed Stoic views. Epictetus maintained that God gave humans a free will (in his understanding of the concept) just like his own. Epictetus, Discourses I.1.23. Christians would perhaps not go as far as Epictetus who writes in this passage that human will is free and not even God could take that away.
For sake of delineation I exclude Augustine and the ensuing discussions on free will after him.
Justin, First Apology 43.8.
Justin, First Apology 43.3–6.
Tatian, Address to the Greeks 11.2; Theophilus, Apology to Autolycus II.27, see also Minucius Felix, The Octavius 36.
Origen, On First Principles III.1.1.
Origen, On First Principles preface 4–5.
Clement, Protrepticus 117.2; Stromata V.13.90–91, VI.17.161.2.
Stromata II.5.26.3, V1.7.1–2. For a study on Clements’s view of the relation between free will and Grace, as well as the pedagogical function of the Logos, see Matyas Havrda, “Grace and Free Will According to Clement of Alexandria”, Journal of Early Christian Studies 19:1 (2011): 21–48.
For overviews of Origen’s view on the nature of human free will, see, for example, Frede, A Free Will, 102–124; Dihle, Theory of Will, 110–122; Karamanolis, Philosophy, 168–176.
Dihle, Theory of Will, 110–122; Karamanolis, Philosophy, 168–176.
Irenaeus, Against Heresies IV.37, 39.
Origen, On First Principles I.3.8, I.4.1, II.9.2.
Origen, On First Principles II.9.6.
Origen, On First Principles II.9.6.
Origen, On First Principles I.8.1–2, II.1.1, II.6.3–6, II.8.3–4, II.9.1–6.
Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 141; Justin, Second Apology 7.5–6; Irenaeus, Against Heresies IV.37; Tatian, Address to the Greeks 7.1.
Tertullian, Apology 22–23.
Origen, On First Principles I.3.3, IV.1.35; Commentary on John VI.25.
Origen, On First Principles II.9.5–6.
Origen, On First Principles I, preface 2, III.1.
Origen, On First Principles I.8.2, II.9.5, III.1.4–5.
Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1.
Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1; Origen, Against Celsus V.61; On First Principles II.9.5.
For example, Ex 4:21, 7:3; Mi 6:8; Is 1:19–20; Dt 30:15–19. See Origen, On First Principles III.1.
Origen, On First Principles III.1.7, 1.18.
Origen, On First Principles II.9.5.
This seems to be the position in ExcTheod 56:3, see also Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1.
ExcTheod 56:3.
The reason I restrict the discussion to these two portrayals of Valentinians is because these are the only presentations of Valentinian theology that explicitly mention free will. See Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1 and ExcTheod 56:3.
Pneumatics are portrayed as an elevated, saved people, the material people are doomed to be lost while the middle class, the psychic, are undecided. See ExcTheod 56:3 and Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1. The relation between this anthropology and the one we find in TriTrac is discussed in Chapter 4.
Attridge and Pagels, “The Tripartite Tractate”, in Notes, 446–447.
Thomassen, Le traité tripartite, 428–429.
Buell, Why This New Race, 127.
See 62:27–30, 64:11, 86:20, 99:18, 131:31, 133:12, see also Crum, Coptic, 690a.
Since the term προαίρεσις is used in so many varied ways in antiquity, from Aristotle onward, I choose to leave the term untranslated henceforth. In TriTrac it is used to refer to a faculty that the entities in the cosmos have, which determines their character and ability to assent to the Savor. I argue that it is not the same as free will, or a self-determined will, which in TriTrac is restricted to perfect beings.
The Aeons of which the church consists are not created as such but linger in the consciousness of the Father and are brought out, thus allowing for the doctrine that all parts of the trinity are eternal without beginning nor end.
69:24–27: ϫⲉ ⲛⲉϩⲉⲛⲉⲓⲁⲧⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲙⲁϩ ϣⲁⲙⲧ· ⲛ̄ⲉⲁⲩ <ⲛⲉ> ⲕⲁⲧⲁ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲩⲧⲉⲝⲟ̣ⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲧϭⲟⲙ· ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩϫⲡⲁⲥ ⲛⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲟⲩ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
74:18–23: ϫⲉ ⲛⲓⲁⲓⲱⲛ ⲇⲉ ⲁⲩⲛ̄ⲧ̣[ⲟⲩ] ⲁⲃⲁⲗ· ⲕⲁⲧⲁ ⲡⲓⲙⲁϩ ϣⲁⲙⲛ̄ⲧ ⲛ̣ⲕⲁⲣⲡⲟⲥ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲓ̈ⲧⲛ̄ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧ[ⲁⲩ]ⲧⲉⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲡⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ̣ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ· ϩⲓ̈ⲧⲛ̄ ϯⲥⲟⲫⲓⲁ ⲉⲛⲧⲁϥⲣ̄ ϩⲙⲁⲧ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲁⲡⲟⲩⲙⲉⲩⲉ̣. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
75:27–76:2: ϫⲉ ⲡⲓⲁⲓⲱⲛ ⲛⲉⲩⲟⲩⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲡⲉ ϩⲛ̄ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲉⲁⲩϯ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲥⲟⲫⲓⲁ ⲉⲧϥ̄ⲣ̄ ϣⲣⲡ̄ ⲛ̄ϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲡⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲉϥⲙⲉⲩⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲧϥ̄ⲟⲩⲁϣϥ̄ ⲉⲩ{ⲟⲩ}ⲛⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ· ⲁϥϫⲓ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲫⲩⲥⲓⲥ ⲛ̄ⲥⲟⲫⲓⲁ ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥϩⲁⲧϩⲧ̄ ⲛ̄ⲥⲁ ⲡⲥⲙⲓⲛⲉ· ⲉⲧⲑⲏⲡ ϩⲱⲥ ⲉⲩⲕⲁⲣⲡⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ⲥⲟⲫⲓⲁ ⲡⲉ· ϫⲉ ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲩⲧⲉ{ⲩ}ⲝⲟⲩⲥⲓⲟⲥ ⲉⲧⲁⲩϫ̣ⲡⲁ{ⲩ}ϥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛⲓⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲛⲉϥϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲗⲁⲓ̈ϭⲉ ⲛ̄ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲓⲣⲏⲧⲉ ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥⲣ̄ ⲡⲉⲧⲁϥⲟⲩⲁϣϥ̄ ⲉⲙⲛ̄ ⲗⲁⲩⲉ· ⲣ̄ ⲕⲁⲧⲉⲭⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
For more, see Attridge and Pagels, “The Tripartite Tractate”, in Notes, 278–281.
Here I deviate somewhat from Attridge and Pagels’ translation, in order to highlight the fact that Logos’ is identified with his proairesis. They translate: “The intent, then, of the Logos, who is this one, was good” (Attridge and Pagels, “The Tripartite Tractate”, 233).
76:30–77:11: ϫⲉ ⲡⲓⲱⲧ ϭⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲓⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲁⲩⲥⲁⲕⲟⲩ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲥⲁⲃⲟⲗ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟϥ ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲉϥⲧⲁϫⲣⲁⲉⲓⲧ· ⲛ̄ϫⲉ {ⲁ}ⲡϩⲟⲣⲟⲥ ⲉⲛⲧⲁ<ϩ>ⲁⲡⲓⲱⲧ· ⲧⲁϣϥ̄ ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲉⲛ ⲡⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲉϩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲧⲉϩⲁⲥ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲱⲧ· ⲁⲩⲱ ϫⲉⲕⲁⲥⲉ ⲁⲛ· ⲉⲩⲛⲁ·ϣ̣ⲱⲡⲉ· ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲛⲓϩⲃⲏⲩⲉ· ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲁⲩⲟⲓⲕⲟⲛⲟⲙⲓⲁ ⲉⲥⲛⲁϣⲱⲡⲉ· ⲉ̣ϣⲁⲥϣⲉⲉ ⲛⲁⲥⲛⲁϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲉⲛ ⲡⲉ· [ϩ]ⲙ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲱⲛϩ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲙ̄ⲡⲗⲏⲣⲱⲙⲁ [ⲁ]ⲃⲁⲗ ϭⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲁⲉⲓ· ⲙⲁⲥϣⲉ ⲁⲣ̄ ⲕⲁ[ⲧ]ⲏ̣ⲅⲟⲣⲓ ⲙ̄ⲡⲕⲓⲙ· ⲉⲧⲉ ⲡⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ ⲡⲉ· [ⲁ]ⲗ̣ⲗⲁ ⲡⲉⲧⲉϣϣⲉ ⲡⲉ· ⲁⲧⲣⲛ̄ϣⲉϫⲉ ⲁ[ⲡ]ⲕ̣ⲓⲙ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲡⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ· ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲗⲁⲉⲓϭⲉ ⲡⲉ [ⲛ]ⲟⲩⲟⲓⲕⲟⲛⲟⲙⲓⲁ ⲉⲥⲧⲏϣ ⲁⲧⲣⲉⲥϣ̣ⲱⲡⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
There are different versions of the reception of this likeness; sometimes the cart is dragged by two horses identified as the soul and matter, who pull in opposite directions. See Plato, Phaedrus 246a–254e. See the reception of this image in, for example, Galen, On the Opinions of Hippocrates and Plato and in Gregory of Nyssa, On the Soul and Resurrection 61b. See also Thomassen, Le traité tripartite, 375.
See for example Alcinous, Didaskalikos 10.4; Philo, Migration of Abraham 120; Cicero, On the Laws I.27; Pseudo-Plutarch, De Fato 573b. For the Christian parallels, see Theophilus, Apology to Autolycus II.22; Ignatius, Epistle to the Smyrnaeans 1.1; Tatian, Address to the Greeks 5.5; 2 Clement 1:8. Origen is the most obvious example and is discussed further below.
In some other Valentinian material like GosTruth, ExcTheod, and ValExp the Son seems to be contained in the thought of the Father and is brought forth when the Father wills it (ExcTheod 7:1; GosTruth 16:35–36, 37:15–17; ValExp 22:34–36, 24:26–28.) This is not so in TriTrac. The Aeons are the first real creation in TriTrac. They are willed forth from the thought of God while the Son and Church are pre-existent together with the Father. TriTrac also makes clear that all the parts of the trinity have the same dispositions (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) and that the Son and the Church are of the same substance as the Father. The Son has the disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) of being without beginning and end (58:14) and he is of the same substance (ⲟⲩⲥⲓⲁ) as the Father (58:37–38). The Church has the same disposition (ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ) as the Father and the Son (59:3–10). The term, ⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ, is used in Irenaeus’ depiction of a Valentinian myth in 1.12.1 for the Aeons that God emanated but in TriTrac this term is not used for the Aeons that the Father wills forth from his thought (60:1–67:37). For more on the myth of Irenaeus’ Valentinians see the discussion in Smith, “Irenaeus, the Will of God”. Smith argues convincingly that Irenaeus uses a source that is conflated but that it is not necessarily conflated by Irenaeus himself. This indicates that the Aeons were not part of the Father in the same way as the Son and the Church who together with the Father make up the highest principle. Neither are the Aeons in TriTrac described in pairs as in Irenaeus, Against Heresies.
Justin, Dialogue with Trypho 141, Second Apology 7.5–6; Irenaeus, Against Heresies IV.37; Tatian, Address to the Greeks 7.1; Origen, On First Principles I.8.1–2.
Clement claims that faith is a choice. To freely choose to follow what is useful is the beginning of understanding and the foundations of true wisdom, knowledge and salvation (Stromata II.2).
76:30–34: ϫⲉ ⲡⲓⲱⲧ ϭⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲓⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲁⲩⲥⲁⲕⲟⲩ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲥⲁⲃⲟⲗ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟϥ ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲉϥⲧⲁϫⲣⲁⲉⲓⲧ· ⲛ̄ϫⲉ {ⲁ}ⲡϩⲟⲣⲟⲥ ⲉⲛⲧⲁ<ϩ>ⲁⲡⲓⲱⲧ· ⲧⲁϣϥ̄. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
117:3–8: ⲉⲁⲡⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ {ⲉⲁⲡⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ} ⲅⲁⲣ· ϫ̣ⲣⲱ ⲁⲣⲙ̄ ⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ϩⲁ ⲡⲛⲁⲃⲉⲓ ϫⲉⲕⲁⲥⲉ· ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ· ⲉⲧⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲉϥⲛⲁⲛⲁⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲛⲟⲩϩⲙⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
For the Son and the aeonic collective of the Church associated with ⲛⲟⲩⲥ, see 63:33–64:8, 70:8–20, 55:5–27, 59:16–17, 64:1–11. TriTrac emphasizes that it is not possible for nous to grasp the Father. This is stated several times and is clearly a positioning against Neoplatonists who believed that through nous one could potentially understand and conceive of God. Here TriTrac is similar to Origen who states that the Father is higher than nous (Origen, Against Celsus VII.45). For more on the apophatic approach of Middle Platonists during the time before that of which I argue Origen and TriTrac derive, see Smith, Approaches, 117–264. In this issue, in the apophatic stance of the highest God, Origen and TriTrac are closer to Middle Platonists than later Neoplatonists, I would say.
The Stoics had three other main passions, apart from appetite: anger (λύπη), fear (φόβος), and pleasure (ηδονή). Contrary to popular belief today, Stoics were not opposed to emotions; a sage who had mastered all passions did feel passion (πάθος), but only good emotions (ευπάθεια). The three good emotions Stoics favored were Will (βούλησις), Joy (χαρά), and Caution (εὐλάβεια).
Origen, On First Principles I.4.1.
Although Aristotle did not have a concept of assent (συγκατάθεσις) like that of Stoics, he did envision that humans as well as animals could have an aversion for some choices because they had chosen thus previously. Animals did not develop a reason while humans did.
See Bobzien, “Stoic Concept of Freedom”, 79–80.
Bobzien, “Stoic Concept of Freedom”, 89; Alexander of Aphrodisias, De Fato 196.24–197.3.
76:31–34: ⲁⲩⲥⲁⲕⲟⲩ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲥⲁⲃⲟⲗ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟϥ ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲉϥⲧⲁϫⲣⲁⲉⲓⲧ· ⲛ̄ϫⲉ {ⲁ}ⲡϩⲟⲣⲟⲥ ⲉⲛⲧⲁ<ϩ>ⲁⲡⲓⲱⲧ· ⲧⲁϣϥ̄.
This becomes an important theme in the early monastic movement. See Brakke, Demons.
See 78:7, 78:34, 79:30, 79:31, 82:19, 98:5, 103:16, 109:27, 109:33, 109:34, 111:11.
See the discussion in Alexander of Aphrodisias, De Fato 196.24–197.3.
As Bobzien notes, there is no direct evidence that Chrysippus used the term ἐφ’ ἡµῖν in the technical sense, but since it later becomes the standard phrase when discussing what actions depend on us and the connection to moral accountability, especially among Stoics like Epictetus, it is likely he used it. Aristotle used the phrase in his discussions (Nicomachean Ethics III.3, 5; Eudemian Ethics II.6.1223.1–9, 11.10), but Chrysippus introduced the concept “assent” and maintained that the things that depended on us were assent to or dissent from impressions. For more, see Bobzien, Determinism, 274–290.
Hippolytus, Refutation of All Heresies I.18. The metaphor is traditionally attributed to Zeno, but Bobzien has argued that it is rather of later Roman Stoic origin (Bobzien, Determinism, 351–357).
Epictetus, Discourses I.4.18–22; Cicero, De Fato 40–41; Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights VII.2.6–13. For more see Inwood 1985: 42–103; Bobzien, Determinism, 234–329; Ricardo Salles, The Stoics on Determinism and Compatibilism (Ashgate: London, 2005), 69–90; Kathleen Gibbons, “Who Reads the Stars? Origen’s Critique of Astrological Geography”, in Routledge Handbook of Identity and the Environment in the Classical and Medieval Worlds, eds. Rebecca Futo Kennedy and Molly Lewis-Jones (London and New York: Routledge, 2016), 230–246. See also Sorabji, Emotions, 215, 331–332.
Some viewed it as leading to the conclusion that people with a good προαίρεσις could not make mistakes and that everyone else was immoral. For example, see Alexander of Aphrodisias, De Fato 196.13–197.3. See also Diogenes Laertius, Lives VII.120, VII.127; Plutarch also criticized Stoics on this account, in Progress of Virtues 75a–f, 77a–b, 449d–450a.
Löhr briefly mentions that both Clement and Basilides used the Stoic concept of “assent” (συγκατάθεσις). Basilides, we are told, used it as a definition of “faith”, as giving in to something that is beyond the senses. Clement’s use of “assent” is used more as a defense of the concept of human freedom (see Clement, Stromata V.3.3, II.27.2; and for more see Löhr, “Gnostic Determinism”, 381–90, for the quote see 384).
Kocar, “Humanity”, 193–221. Kocar concludes in his article that Valentinians and Stoics have been wrongfully accused of determinism and lack of ethical paraenesis. He discusses Epictetus’ use of “volition” (as he translates προαίρεσις) as a case for a Stoic call for ethical behavior; however, what he does not discuss is the fact that this technical term of Epictetus, προαίρεσις, also occurs in TriTrac. Stoics and Valentinians were not just accused of being determinists but also of being elitists and egoists. Not just their ancient contemporaries leveled this charge at them; similar perceptions lived on all the way to modern scholarship. For the ancient and modern accusations directed at Valentinians see Williams, Rethinking, 189–212; for ancient and modern derogatory remarks about the Stoics see 191–206 in Runar M. Thorsteinsson, Roman Christianity and Roman Stoicism: A Comparative Study of Ancient Morality (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010). In the Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Studies we read: “Stoicism was a philosophy for an exclusive circle of the elect, whereas Christianity taught universal salvation” (Hubertus R. Drobner, “Christian Philosophy”, in The Oxford Handbook of Early Christian Studies, eds. S. A. Harvey and D. G. Hunter (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 683). This picture of Stoicism reflects the cliché that long also pertained to Valentinians, that it was thought to only be for an elite. Engberg Pedersen has questioned such assertions regarding the Stoics. He writes that “Pauline scholars regularly contrast the idea of an outward directedness (to be found in Paul) with that of an inward directedness (to be found in the Stoics). That is a misunderstanding” (Troels Engberg Pedersen, Paul and the Stoics (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 290).
On pages 118–119 in TriTrac, the three human classes react differently to the appearance of the Savior. Kocar writes that the appearance of the Savior is like an impression (ⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ) (Kocar, “Humanity”, 205–206). This is partly correct, at least in the sense that the people who are saved are the ones who assent to the appearance of the Savior, but the term impression is a very negative term in TriTrac and never used for the Savior. Although an excellent article, Kocar only scratches the surface here. He does not discuss the specific terminology used for assent in TriTrac nor the use of proairesis, self-determination, or other technical terms.
See Sorabji, Emotions, 355–376.
Translation by Attridge and Pagels, modified.
91:17–25: ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲛⲉⲧⲉ ⲁϥⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ· ⲕⲁⲧⲁ ϯ·ⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ ϩⲛ̄ ϩⲛ̄ϩⲁⲣⲙⲁ … ϫⲉ ⲉⲩⲛⲁϫⲱⲃⲉ ⲛ̄ϩⲉⲛⲙⲁ ⲧⲏⲣⲟⲩ· ⲛ̄ϩⲛ̄ϩⲃⲏⲩⲉ· ⲉⲧⲙ̄ⲡⲥⲁ ⲛⲡⲓⲧⲛ̄· ⲁⲧⲣⲟⲩϯ ⲛ̄ⲧⲭⲱⲣⲁ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲛⲉϥ· ⲉⲧⲥⲙⲁⲛ̄ⲧ̄ ⲛ̄ⲑⲉ ⲉⲧϥ̄ϣⲟⲟⲡ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
131:22–34: ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲛ̄ ⲧⲉⲉⲓⲉⲡⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ· ⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲥⲓⲧⲉ· ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲧⲉⲉⲓ ⲧⲉ ⲧⲙ<ⲛ̄>ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ ⲥⲉⲛⲁϫⲓ ⲛ̄ⲧϣⲃ̄ⲃⲓⲱ̂· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲛⲁⲉⲓ̣ ⲉ̣ⲛⲧⲁϩⲣ̄ ϩⲱⲃ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛⲁⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ϯⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲩϣⲁⲣ̄ ϩⲛⲉⲩ ϩⲛⲛ ⲟⲩⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ· ⲁⲕⲱⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲉⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
121:19–25: ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲉ ϩⲛ̄ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲉⲛ ⲛⲉ ϩⲛ̄ ϯⲇⲓⲁⲑⲉⲥⲓⲥ ⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲥ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲛⲓⲟⲩⲛⲉⲙ· ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲟⲩⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲧⲉ· ϩⲛ̄ ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲉϩϯϩ ⲧⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ {ⲁⲩⲱ} ⲁⲩⲣ̄ ϣⲁⲣⲡ̄ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲧⲡ̄ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡⲧⲁⲉⲓⲟ ⲉⲩⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲧⲉⲡⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ.
This is the way Attridge and Pagels translate the term, and thus I choose to deviate from their translation when the word occurs, in order to highlight the connection to ancient discourse on the philosophy of ethics.
Cicero, On Ends III.6.21.
Assenting is also viable among humans it seems; we read that the righteous Hebrews do not listen to the left mixed powers like the Greeks who are influenced by the “mixed powers that operate in them” (110:31–32). The Hebrew people do not assent to false impressions (ⲫⲁⲛⲧⲁⲥⲓⲁ) but “assent (ϯϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ) to that which is superior to them” (111:22–23); they retain harmony and unity and thus their scripture indeed valuable.
131:29–34: ⲛⲁⲉⲓ̣ ⲉ̣ⲛⲧⲁϩⲣ̄ ϩⲱⲃ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛⲁⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ϯⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲩϣⲁⲣ̄ ϩⲛⲉⲩ ϩⲛⲛ ⲟⲩⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ· ⲁⲕⲱⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲉⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
Apart from a few instances in OnOrigWorld and The Teachings of Silvanus, TriTrac is the only text in the Nag Hammadi collection that uses this term, ⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ, extensively (11 times).
Democritus maintained that there were two kinds of γνώµη, a legitimate which is concerned with the most fundamental aspects of existence (atoms) and the less in tuned kind which has to do with the senses. See Hermann Diels and Walter Kranz, eds., Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker (Berlin: Weidmann, 1952), 68b11. Aristotle writes that a γνώµη is a statement about conduct (Rhetoric II.21) and that a person with γνώµη tends to makes just decisions (Nicomachean Ethics VI.11). Church fathers tend to contrast false γνώµη (heretics) from true γνώµη (see Ignatius, Epistle to the Philadelphians 3.3; Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.1). γνώµη was also used in combination with self-determination, in Tatian for example (Address to the Greeks 7), as an opinion by a person with free will. See also Clement, Paedagogus I.2.
See Lampe, A Patristic Greek Lexicon, 317–318.
Freedom is also viable in the Pleroma. The Father grants the Aeons faith so they can accept things they do not understand; this is, we read, a blessing, a fortune, a wisdom, and a freedom (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ) (71:31–33).
Bobzien, Determinism, 135. For the relation between ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ and ἐλευθερία see Crum, Coptic, 297a. The term is used at the following places: 71:33, 117:25 and 118:3.
117:23–118:14: ⲡⲣ̄ ⲃⲟⲗ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲧⲥ̄ ⲛ̄ϯⲁⲓⲭⲙⲁⲗⲱⲥⲓⲁ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲡϫⲓⲛ ⲛ̄ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ· ⲧⲉⲕⲭⲙⲁⲗⲱⲥⲓⲁ· ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩⲣ̄ ϭⲁⲩⲟⲩⲁⲛ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧ·ⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ· ⲉⲥⲟⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲛⲣ̄ⲣⲟ ϩⲛ̄ ⲛⲉⲥⲧⲟⲡⲟⲥ ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ ⲇⲉ· ⲡⲉ ⲡⲓⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲧⲙⲏⲉ· ⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ· ϩⲁⲑⲏ ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲁⲧⲉⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ ϣⲱⲡⲉ· ⲉϥⲟⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲣⲣⲟ ϣⲁ ⲁⲛⲏϩⲉ ϩⲛ̄ⲛ ⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲁⲣⲭⲏ· ⲙⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧ·ϩⲁⲏ· ⲉⲟⲩⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩϥ ⲡⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲟⲩϫⲁⲉⲓⲧⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲛϩⲃⲏⲩⲉ ⲧⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲟⲩⲣ̄ ⲃⲟⲗ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲧⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲧⲥ̄ ⲛ̄ϯⲫⲩⲥⲓⲥ ⲙ̄ⲙⲛ̄ⲧϭⲁⲩ· ⲁⲛ· ⲧⲁⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲩϣⲱⲡ ⲙ̄ⲕⲁϩ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ ϫⲉ ⲛ̣ⲉ̣ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲛⲛ ⲟⲩⲙⲉⲉⲩⲉ ⲉϥⲑⲃⲃⲓ·ⲁⲉⲓⲧ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲡϭⲗ[ⲁ] ⲉⲧⲉ ⲡⲉ̣ⲉ̣ⲓ ⲡⲉ ⲉⲥⲛⲁ ϣⲁ ⲛⲉⲧⲑⲁⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲓ̈ⲧⲛ̄ ⲡⲓⲙⲉⲩⲉ ⲉⲧⲥ̣[ⲱ]ⲕ̣ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲁⲡⲓⲧⲛ̄ ⲁⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲓ̈ⲟⲩⲁϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ ⲁⲩϫⲓ ⲇⲉ̣ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲕⲧⲏⲙⲁ· ⲉⲧⲉ ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲙ̄ϩⲉ ⲇⲉ ϩⲙ̄ ⲡϩⲟⲩⲟ ⲙ̄ⲡϩⲙⲁⲧ· ⲉⲛⲧⲁϩϭⲱϣⲧ̄ ⲁϫⲛ̄ ⲛ̄ϣⲏⲣⲉ· ⲉⲩⲟⲩϣⲟⲣϣⲣ̄ ⲛ̄ⲇⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲁⲑⲟⲥ ⲡⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲟⲩⲧⲉⲕⲟ ⲛⲉⲩⲟⲩ ⲡⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲉ·ⲁϥⲛⲁϩⲟⲩ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟϥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲉⲧϥ̄· ⲛ̄ϣⲟⲣⲉⲡ· ⲉⲁϥⲡⲁⲣϫⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲟⲗ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟϥ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲡⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ ⲉⲛⲧⲁϩϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲗⲁⲉⲓϭⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲧⲟⲩϣⲱⲡⲉ· ⲉⲡⲟⲩⲧⲉⲕⲟ ⲉⲁϥⲁⲣⲏϩ ⲁⲣⲁϥ ⲁ<ⲡ>ϩⲁⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲓⲕⲟⲛⲟⲙⲓⲁ ⲉⲁϥⲕⲁⲩⲉ ⲁⲧⲣⲟⲩϣⲱⲡⲉ ϫⲉ ⲛⲉⲩⲣ̄ ϣⲉⲩ ϩⲱⲟⲩ ⲁⲛ ⲡⲉ· ⲁⲛⲉⲧⲁⲩⲧⲁϣⲟⲩ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.
See for example Scott, Journey Back to God, where Origen’s opponents, the ‘Gnostics’ (represented by Valentinus, Basilides and Marcion) presented as the ‘deterministic’ view without any description of what this entails.
Bobzien, Determinism, 412.
Explored for example in Bobzien, Determinism, 397–399. See also Sorabji, Emotions, passim, for discussions of the critique Stoics received.
Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.6.1. For the Greek, see Harvey, Saint Irenaeus, 51–52.
See for example Buell, Why This New Race, 127.
Origen, Commentary on John XIII.60.416–426. Furthermore, Einar Thomassen has argued that Heracleon should not be interpreted as arguing for a fixity of three human categories; he uses the three categories only to highlight the different ways that people are reached by the Savior (Einar Thomassen, “Heracleon”, in The Legacy of John: Second-Century Reception of the Fourth Gospel, ed. Tuomas Rasimus (Leiden: Brill, 2010): 173–210). In this instance TriTrac is very similar to Heracleon: people are known by the way they react to the Savior. From this perspective, however, one could argue that Heracleon viewed it as predetermined how people would react when they encountered the Savior, at least initially. Nevertheless, his view of the middle category seems to be more in line with ExcTheod 56:3 than TriTrac.
Origen, Commentary on John XXVIII.21, XX.33; On First Principles III.1.8. Origen writes that those “who introduce the natures” (οἱ µὲν τὰς φύσεις εἰσάγοντες) maintain that the pneumatics are naturally inclined to hear God’s words. They are in Against Celsus V.61 identified as Valentinians, but in Commentary on John they are treated as separate from Heracleon. This has recently been argued, fairly convincingly, by Carl Johan Berglund, “Heracleon and the Seven Categories of Exegetical Opponents in Origen’s Commentary on the Gospel of John”, Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum (forthcoming). I suggest that those “who introduce the natures” might have been Valentinians Origen was personally familiar with from Alexandria, while Heracleon lived a generation before. Being a prolific commentator on the Gospels and most likely an inspiration for local Christians, Origen felt the need to both address Heracleon’s works as well as those Valentinians who were active in his immediate context.
Origen, On First Principles III.1, also I, preface 2. For an important discussion on the state of different ancient and modern editions of Origen’s work On First Principles, see Behr, Origen, xv–xxviii. There are many fragments, Greek fragments that are later than the Rufinus Latin translation, and many parts are controversial. Luckily, however, the part of the work where Origen develops his thoughts on free will is preserved in Greek in the early and fairly reliable Philocalia, a collection of extracts made by Gregory and Basil. This is book III, Chapter 1 in Butterworth’s edition, the part of On First Principles preserved in Philocalia from which the quotes discussed here are taken and which I use to build up Origen’s views on his opponents.
Christoph Markschies has argued that Origen often uses these three groups as ‘standard opponents’ in order to have someone to argue against, and that they do not necessarily represent any existing groups (Christoph Markschies, “Gnostics”, in The Westminster Handbook to Origen, ed. John Anthony McGuckin (Westminster: John Knox Press, 2004), 104). Indeed, as far as we can see, Origen does not seem to quote from any of the writings of his opponents, but I will argue that in TriTrac we actually have a system that resembles the detailed thought Origen rejects.
Origen, On First Principles III.1; Clement, Stromata V.1, 3.3. See also Sorabji, Emotions, 355–376.
Each person has the ability to choose freely which impressions to assent to and which to reject meaning that there was self-determination for each decision. Origen, On First Principles III.1; Clement, Stromata V.1.
Origen On First Principles III.1, see also Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.8.3.
Origen, On First Principles III.1.8. Translation by Butterworth, Origen, 212 (slightly modified). For the Greek text, see Origenes Vier Bücher von den Prinzipien, eds. Herwig Görgemanns and Heinrich Karpp (Dramstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1985), 486.
Origen, On First Principles III.1.5. Translation by Butterworth, Origen, 202–203. For the Greek text, see Görgemanns and Karpp, Origenes Vier Bücher von den Prinzipien, 470–472.
Alan Scott, Origen and the Life of the Stars: A History of an Idea (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994).
Origen, Commentary on Matthew 13.6.
2 Tim 2:20–21: “In a large house there are utensils not only of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for special use, some for ordinary. All who cleanse themselves of the things I have mentioned will become special utensils, dedicated and useful to the owner of the house, ready for every good work.”
Rom 9:18–21: “So then he has mercy on whomever he chooses, and he hardens the heart of whomever he chooses. You will say to me then, “Why then does he still find fault? For who can resist his will?” But who indeed are you, a human being, to argue with God? Will what is molded say to the one who molds it, “Why have you made me like this?” Has the potter no right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one object for special use and another for ordinary use?”
Origen, On First Principles III.1.21. Translation by Butterworth, Origen, 262. For the Greek text, see Görgemanns and Karpp, Origenes Vier Bücher von den Prinzipien, 542–544.
See 121:20, 118:13–14, 89:35–36. Even the lowest creations of the Logos, destined for destruction, are allowed “to exist because they too were useful for the things that had been destined” (118:13–14). The Logos grants the lower powers different skills “so that they too might become useful for the oikonomia that was to be” (89:35–36).
See the allegory of the broken and full jars on page 25 and page 36 where we read that the Savior has come to anoint the perfect jars (because who would pour valuable ointment in broken jars?). As Origen writes, the metaphor of clay being formed in different ways was used by Christians denying free will, as allusions in Rom 9:18–21. See also the end of page 21 in GosTruth where it is clear that some humans have “names” that the Father calls out, while other people lack these names and thus will be lost in the end. Similarly to TriTrac, it is those who have what it takes who will answer the call of the Savior.
See especially the final exhortations at 20:14–21:34 and the long paraenetic section, at 15:10–19:37. Here the intent seems to be to counter this internal conflict troubling the congregation.
The genre of the texts can, and has been, discussed, but few would call them detailed expositions aiming to lay out a particular theology. For more on the genre of InterpKnow and GosTruth, see Wolf Peter Funk, et al., L’interprétation de la gnose: NH XI, 1 (Quebec: Peeters, 2010), 21–23; Attridge and MacRae in Attridge, Nag Hammadi Codex I (the Jung Codex): Introductions, Texts, Translations, Indices, 65–67.
The different anthropologies found in Valentinian texts is discussed in Dunderberg, Gnostic Morality, 137–148. Concerning InterpKnow it is not very clear if we are dealing with three or two human classes, but we can at least say that the most intelligible sections (i.e., the least fragmentary) of the text do not divide humans into material, psychic, and pneumatic classes.
Maurice F. Wiles, The Spiritual Gospel: The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel in the Early Church (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960); Charles E. Hill, The Johannine Corpus in the Early Church (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006); Jeffrey A. Trumbower, “Origen’s Exegesis of John 8:19–53: The Struggle with Heracleon over the Idea of Fixed Natures”, Vigiliae Christianae 43 (1989): 138–154.
This text was copied by a scribe who was affiliated with the scribe(s) of Codex I. For more on the subject of how the different codices are affiliated, see the introductory chapter above.
Apocalypse of Peter 73:23–28: ⲛⲁϫⲓ ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ϩ̄ⲛ̄ ϯⲁⲣⲭⲏ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲡⲉⲛϣⲁϫⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲥⲉⲛⲁⲕⲟⲧⲟⲩ ⲉⲣⲟⲟⲩ ⲟⲛ ϩ̄ⲙ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲱϣ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲡⲓⲱⲧ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲧⲟⲩⲡⲗⲁⲛⲏ ϫⲉ ⲁⲩⲉⲓⲣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲧⲉ ⲛⲁϥⲁⲩⲱ ϥⲛⲁⲟⲩⲟⲛϩⲟⲩ.
Apocalypse of Peter 75:15–27: ⲯⲩⲭⲏ ⲅⲁⲣ ⲛⲓⲙ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲛⲉⲓ̈ⲁⲓⲱⲛ ⲟⲩⲙⲟⲩ ⲡⲉⲧⲟⲩⲏⲡ ⲉⲣⲟ<ⲟⲩ> ⲛ̄ⲛⲁϩⲣⲁⲛ· ⲕⲁⲑⲟⲧⲓ ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲣⲉϥ ϣ̄ⲙ̄ϣⲉ ⲧⲉ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩⲟⲉⲓϣ ⲛⲓⲙ·…ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲉⲓⲛⲉ ⲇⲉ ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲓ̈ ⲁⲛ ⲱ ⲡⲉⲧⲣⲉ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲛⲓⲯⲩⲭⲏ ⲛ̄ⲁⲧⲙⲟⲩ.
Jerome, Apologia adversus libros Rufini II.18. Translation by J. D. Gauthier, in Henri Crouzel, “A Letter from Origen to Friends in Alexandria”, in The Heritage of the Early Church: Essays in Honor of George Vasilievich Florovsky, eds. D. Neiman and M. Schatkin (Rome: Pontificio Istituto Orientale, 1973), 135–50, translated passage is found on pages 143–144.
Jerome gets this story, we are told, from a collection of letters that Origen, in his exile in Caesarea, wrote for friends back home in Alexandria, letters in which he defended himself against the accusations of his opponents. Crouzel, “A Letter from Origen”, 135–150.
The closest to a devil is perhaps the serpent, which is called the most cunning of all the evil powers (107:9–12).
There is debate concerning whether Origen really argued this. For a recent work contending that Origen actually held this view, see Scott, Journey Back to God.
See Origen, On First Principles III.1.24, see also preface to book I, 4–5. See also, for example, Clement, Stromata II.2.
What I here call external influence was defined quite differently for Stoics in comparison to TriTrac. For Stoics everyone was exposed to impressions and αὐτεξούσιον is rather the eradication of influence from passion (Bobzien, Determinism, 330–357). In TriTrac passion and impression are connected and strongly associated with materiality overall, which was negative. For Stoics, this was not the case, everything was material and there was nothing inherently bad about that; even the soul was material.
The text is preserved in part in Greek but completely in Old Slavonic. No extant English translation, to my knowledge, exists of the complete work, but the surviving Greek is translated by William R. Clark in Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 6, eds. Alexander Roberts et al. (Buffalo, New York: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1886). For a complete translation, with the Greek and Old Slavonic transcriptions, see A. Vaillant, “Le ‘De autexusio’ de Méthode d’Olympe, version slave et texte grec édités et traduits en français”, Patrologia Orientalis 22:5 (1930): 631–877. See also Dylan Burns, “Astrological Determinism, Free Will, and Desire According to Thecla (St. Methodius, Symposium 8.15–16)”, in Women and Knowledge in Early Christianity, eds. Ulla Tervahauta, Ivan Miroshnikov, Outi Lehtipuu, and Ismo Dunderberg (Leiden: Brill, 2017), 206–220. Burns discusses a part of Methodius’ Symposium where Thecla is described as opposing astrological determinism. Like Methodius’ characters in his treatise On Free Will, Thecla here argues that God cannot be the origin of evil and she asks why God would have created evil humans only to condemn them to death. In TriTrac, material people seem to have a very important purpose: to show everyone else the difference between good and evil. And since materiality is an illusion in the first place, one could imagine that supporters of such a treatise as TriTrac would argue that there is no unjust punishment, just a dissolving of substances that have no real existence.
Vladimir Cvetkovic, “From Adamantius to Centaur: St. Methodius of Olympus’ Critique of Origen”, in Origeniana Decima: Origen as Writer, ed. Andrezej Dziadowiec (Leuven: Peeters, 2010), 791–802.
Robert A. Pretty, Adamantius: Dialogue on the True Faith in God (Leuven: Peeters, 1997), 9–16.
Adamantius dialogue IV.8e. Translation by Pretty, in Pretty, Adamantius, 135.