Chapter 6 Honor and Attitudes toward Social and Political Involvement

In: The Ethics of The Tripartite Tractate (NHC I, 5)
Author:
Paul Linjamaa
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This chapter investigates TriTrac’s attitude to involvement in the affairs of everyday life. What does the text say concerning politics and earthly governance? Previous chapters have made it clear that a virtuous life, according to TriTrac, involves moral development, education and controlling passions. But how would this ideal fit with the structures of everyday life lived in the Roman empire? Must one give up worldly pursuits and instead devote oneself to contemplation in order to attain a moral life? Or was it, like some church fathers would claim about opponents who implemented the tripartite anthropology we find in TriTrac, that the rules of society did not apply to them? Ismo Dunderberg has suggested that the TriTrac represents a Christian text that engages with these questions, due to, for example, the many and sometimes positive references to the concept “lust for command” or “lust for power” (ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ).1 I here develop Dunderberg’s studies of “lust for command”, adding to his findings the perspectives concerning human cognition, free will, and the passions discussed in previous chapters. I argue that a closer look at these issues, as well as at the importance of the concept of “honor” in Roman society, better allows us to understand the social vision presented in TriTrac and the locus of the text within early Christian negotiations of leadership and claims to authority.

1 TriTrac and Early Christian Attitudes toward Involvement in Society

Ismo Dunderberg has written about TriTrac from the perspective of ancient politics and attitudes toward authority. He has suggested that the text advocates that people should leave their places of worldly power when becoming part of the community.2 TriTrac rejects Greek philosophy (109:24–110:22), which Dunderberg (among others) has viewed as a sign of social deviance. One passage in the text states that the psychic people who follow Christ upon his appearance on earth “abandoned their gods whom they had previously worshipped, and the lords who are in heaven and on earth”.3 When these people gave themselves to Jesus they furthermore “gave him their kingdoms, they rose from their thrones and they abstained from their crowns”.4 These two passages indicate, Dunderberg maintains, that “conversion involves, thus, abandonment of both power and idolatry”.5

Nevertheless, Dunderberg also recognizes the passages that mention “the lust for command” as being useful. We read, for example, that the Logos allows the lower levels of power to rule because “even they were useful for the things which were ordained”.6 Dunderberg writes that the “political stance in the Tripartite Tractate is twofold. On the one hand the lust for command and power is of dubious origin, but, on the other, it is necessary for the administration of oikonomia”.7 Dunderberg has, like others, noticed the passages in TriTrac that seem to mention persecution. We read that the material powers who crucified Jesus also persecuted the church: “but also toward the church did they direct their hatred and envy and jealousy”.8 Dunderberg concludes that since TriTrac portrays both knowledge of persecution as well as an ambivalence toward political power, it supports the dating of the text to 150–250, a time when relations between Christians and the Roman ruling elite was volatile and unstable.9 I discuss and build upon this preliminary analysis of Dunderberg, and suggest that the latter part of this chronological span is the more likely original context of the text.

First, however, we should recognize the difficulty of drawing conclusions as to the background of a text from passages that mention persecution. The earliest Christians, prior to the conversion of emperors and the establishment of an Imperial Church, were painfully aware of their minority situation, and were at times, like so many other minorities, subjected to harsh treatment by the Roman authorities. Nevertheless, it is hard to draw the conclusion that TriTrac derives from a context of persecution even though there are passages mentioning it. The language of persecution was a common theme in early Christian literature and something that was very much a part of Christian identity.10 The extent to which Christians actually were persecuted has also come into question, in light of Candida Moss’ work.11 Persecution could have been highlighted in TriTrac simply to emphasize the Christian nature of the text. This becomes more understandable from the perspective of studies in social psychology that maintain that group identity is created and sustained by negotiation between feelings of uniqueness and sameness.12

Returning now to Christian attitudes to politics, it is safe to say that there was no unified Christian view of politics and social involvement. While it can be hard to access such attitudes due to the fact that they are often embedded in other kinds of writings (exegesis, apology or theology for example),13 there are some common themes. Tertullian—most likely echoing Matt 22:17 and Rom 13:1–7—writes that the legitimacy and power wielded by the emperor was ultimately dependent on the order created by God and thus Christians should indeed pay homage to the emperor and the order of the Roman Empire.14 Tertullian did not see Christians as standing outside or in opposition to the power structures of the Roman Empire and he was far from alone in harboring mitigating attitudes toward them.

Before Tertullian, Justin Martyr had already argued much the same thing, that Christianity did not challenge the rule of the emperor. Writing to Emperor Marcus Aurelius, Justin tried in his First Apology to lessen the alarm that Christianity seemed to cause among some Roman people. Christians were, Justin told the emperor, ruled by pursuit of the good and governed by reason. This was not a threat, but rather an advantage for ruling people, as well as the ruled, Justin said. Justin, as well as Athenagoras after him, appealed to the emperor to use his reason before condemning Christians because, through reason, the emperor would see that Christians were not a threat but a social, political, and moral good.15 Irenaeus followed suit and even presented the structure of the Roman Empire and the emperor as appointed by God to rid humanity of sin.16 Origen later stated that the coming of Christ during Augustus’ rule signaled that the authority of the Roman Empire was divinely ordained.17 We do not have to broaden our survey of early Christian writers further to be able to conclude that there are early and clear attempts by Christians to assert the legitimacy of the political status quo.18 I argue that TriTrac does not differ much from these more general mitigating attitudes toward social and indeed political involvement.

However, some earlier scholarship on ‘Gnosticism’ has used the language in TriTrac as a sign of the opposite, of a ‘Gnostic’ text that critiques Roman governance, and particularly ecclesiastical church structures.19 It is well known that the church fathers portrayed Christians with whom they disagreed as social deviants, a threat, and generally unbeneficial for society.20 Irenaeus leveled these allegations toward those of his Christian opponents who adopted a tripartite anthropology and whom he called Valentinians. These Christians and others inspired by the “multitude of Gnostics”, Irenaeus wrote, thought they were above conventional rules—since they claimed that God was not the creator of the cosmos, but that it was rather a lower god whose rule one did not need to accept.21 Irenaeus and other church fathers argued that these people maintained that the rules in society did not apply to them since they came from a higher entity who did not create the structure of the cosmos. For a long time, the general scholarly attitude toward these and other opponents of the church fathers—often called Gnostics—was that they must have rejected the Roman state.22

However, many studies have recently shown the error of taking the church fathers’ statements for fact.23 There is little evidence—save the church fathers’ polemics—to suggest that these Christians rejected involvement in social life, or political life for that matter, just because they harbored a ‘negative’ world view or regarded the powers in the heavens as having influence over creation.24 Perhaps some of the groups lumped together into the category of Gnosticism did reject involvement in social life and politics, but this should be argued on a case to case basis, and cannot be applied to all the texts or groups that are often labeled Gnostic.25 Furthermore, the rejection of the power structures of this world in favor of a life in seclusion in search of deeper heavenly truths, was surely not unique to some of the groups and texts that are sometimes grouped as ‘Gnostic’, but is rather a larger pattern within Christianity.26

In TriTrac the material and psychic powers and the organization the Logos instigates after the creation of the three structures are at times described as of benefit for the whole. We even read that “the Logos is pleased with them (the material and psychic powers), for they are useful for the oikonomia”.27 One common theme in the early Christian (as well as pagan and Jewish) attitude to authority and social issues is the view that the structures of society were reflected in the structure of the creation of the world. We have seen that Tertullian, Irenaeus, and Origen viewed the structure of creation and the birth of Jesus as legitimizing political structures. Philo, who advocated being active in society and worldly governance—and who himself was politically active and met with Caligula as a representative of the Jews in Alexandria—argued that the law of Moses was supported by the laws of nature established in creation, and he invited Romans to follow these laws which were, according to most Jews, superior to—although not necessarily contradicting—those followed by Roman citizens.28 He viewed the Logos as acting as God’s power in governing in the world, somewhat like the Stoics did. The Logos applied the natural law to the world.29 Philo saw the structure of creation as guiding each person’s relation to power, whether one became a ruler or one of the ruled. Those who became rulers had the power to see what was beneficial; these Philo associated with the right side of God—the position of honor. However, Philo viewed good rulers and kings as appointed to serve humanity, not govern for the sake of gaining personal world power and honor.30 Thus, some people had the natural ability to govern, and this ability was appointed by the providence of God.

Platonists, too, saw the structures of creation as foundational for the way people related to power.31 Plato, of course, thought that the right to rule should be awarded to the best people and wisest, and those who did good for the whole.32 A successful society was a society which involved all the best people of all social classes and professions. Not all people were natural leaders, however, and humans did not make the rules themselves; rather they were represented in the Ideal World. A good leader knew virtue, which went hand in hand with knowledge of the structures of the Divine, which the Demiurge had used as an image when creating the world. A leader should not govern solely on the basis of his will to acquire personal honor and glory. However, as Aristotle came to highlight, the emotions associated with the middle part of the tripartite structure of the soul were useful for people who obtained positions of power; it was here that emotions like honor and courage were located, emotions that were needed in order to become an effective and just leader.33

Middle Platonists valued involvement in politics, contrary to some of the other Hellenistic schools of philosophy like some Stoics (at least pre-Roman Stoicism), Pyrrhonians, and Epicureans, many of whom saw that a self- respecting man should give up the pettiness of the world and engage wholeheartedly in the practice of philosophy. Like Plato, Plutarch advocated monarchy and viewed the king as an image (εἰκών) of God. Plutarch, like some Roman Stoics and his fellow Platonist Philo, saw the ruling elite, the kings, as representing the natural law implemented by God.34 Neoplatonists like Plotinus went deeper into metaphysics and emphasized the lust for power in the human situation on earth. It was the will to “rule by itself” (ἄρχειν αὐτῆς) and experience the power struggles and passions in the cosmos that caused the intellect to step down in creation in the first place; and the different levels of material existence clothed spiritual man in its downward journey with abilities associated with cosmic life.35

The cosmogony of TriTrac holds the key for approaching attitudes toward earthly governance. The structure of the oikonomia implemented by the Logos, I argue, reveals attitudes toward social and political involvement. So, let us take a closer look at the descriptions of material and psychic powers in light of claims to authority and earthly governance.

2 Cosmogony as Political Commentary

In TriTrac the cosmos is the result of the fall of the Logos, this much is clear by now. The fall is, however, sanctioned by the Father (76:2–77:11) and at several places we are told the reason for creation: it is so that the Aeons can gain experience of the life outside the Pleroma, to learn about materiality, about the differences between good and evil:

The fall, which happened to the Aeons of the Father of the All who did not suffer, was brought to them, as if it were their own, in a careful and non-malicious and immensely sweet way. [It was brought to the] All so that they might be instructed about the [defect] by the single one, from whom [alone] they all received strength to eliminate the defects.36

As explained in greater detail in Chapter 2, the fall will benefit the whole. It is the Aeon called the Logos who falls and creates the first two orders of powers—the material left side and the psychic right side. The material powers are created first and strive to “command” (ⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ) each other, driven by “their empty lust for glory” (ⲧⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲉⲁⲟⲩ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉ̣[ⲓ]ⲧ̣) (79:20–22, 84:18–21). The closely associated concept “lust for command” (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ), is mentioned repeatedly throughout the text.37 As Dunderberg has noted, this concept, “command” (ⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ) is crucial for the oikonomia set up by the Logos; it is by virtue of this attribute the powers control and govern the whole system.38 At this point in the cosmogony, however, only the Logos and his initial creation exist, the material powers, and from these came “fighters, warriors, troublemakers, apostates. They are disobedient beings, lovers of command”.39 This period is defined by lack of order (80:15–19). The Logos then creates a second group of powers. These come forth when the Logos is regretting his mistake of leaving the Pleroma and prays to God. In the second order of powers the Logos placed the ability to understand that there was something greater than they, to recognize the Savior, and think and pray to God (83:18–26): These powers were not, as in the material side, associated with “arrogance” (ϫⲁⲥⲓϩⲏⲧ), “desire” (ⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ), and “a heavy sleep” (ⲟⲩϩⲓⲛⲏⲃ ⲉϥϩⲁⲣϣ) (82:21–27). Instead, the psychic powers are associated with “harmony” (ϯⲙⲉⲧⲉ), “compassion” (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲛⲟⲩⲉⲣⲏⲩ) “unity” (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓⲉ), and “honor” (ⲧⲁⲉⲓⲁⲉⲓⲧ). However, we read that “the empty lust for glory draws all of them to the desire that is lust for command”;40 thus, the material powers and the psychic powers start warring amongst each other. This situation is associated with “wrath” (ⲃⲗ̄ⲕⲉ), “violence” (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧϫⲓⲛ̣̄ϭⲁⲛⲥ̄), “desire” (ⲉⲡⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ), and “ignorance” (ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ).41 In the course of all this, the Savior appears and the Logos is able to separate the two sides of warring powers. The Savior gives the Logos “a word which is destined to be knowledge. And he gave him power to separate and cast out from himself those who are disobedient to him”.42 The Savior appears to the warring powers and they stop. The psychic powers “assent” (ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ) to him, because they have the ability placed in them to recognize him.43 Some of the powers, the material side, do not have this inborn ability, so they become “afraid” (ⲧⲣⲣⲉ) and fall down “to the pit of ignorance which is called ‘the Outer Darkness’ and ‘Chaos’ and ‘Hades’ and ‘the Abyss’”.44 The powers who fall rule over these lower regions, we read, because it was the lot that was assigned to them, and thus the Savior “granted them that they too should be of use for the oikonomia which was to be”.45

As we know, the Logos creates a third class of powers—called “the church”—and these are the pneumatics. These powers do not seem to have anything to do with the governance of the cosmos; no qualities of power or command are attributed to them. Rather, they are associated with good emotions and pedagogic attributes (as seen in Chapters 2 and 4). The pneumatics were made of the substance whose destiny it is to travel through the heavens down to earth and learn of life on earth and teach the psychic humans (90:14–95:38).46 The material powers are associated with passions (95:2–5); they are imitations of the Aeons in the real Pleroma, not true likenesses but only shadows and, therefore, they will be lost in the end (78:29–79:11). The Logos places the psychics next to the material powers, in order that they might come to see and know—by associating with the lowest level of creation—the faults they must abandon (98:27–99:7). Above the material powers the Logos places “the beautiful rationality” (ⲡⲓⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ⲧⲥⲁⲉⲓⲟ) (99:6) and “the law of judgment” (ⲡⲓⲛⲟⲙⲟⲥ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲕⲣⲓⲥⲓⲥ̣) (99:8). The Logos controls them through the enticing beauty and threat of punishment. Furthermore, their “lust for command” keeps all the different powers in their appointed positions, “none (of the powers) lacks a command and none is without kingship from the end of the heavens to the end of the [earth]”,47 and the Logos is pleased with them since they keep the order he has set out (99:5–100:10). These positions have different tasks and ranks. The different powers are made “kings, there are lords and those who give commands, some for administering punishment, others for administering justice, still others for giving rest and healing, others for teaching, others for guarding”.48 The Demiurge is placed above the powers, now called archons. The Demiurge is their leader and has all the honorary titles associated with a creator god, but the Logos nevertheless controls him. The Demiurge in turn creates for himself servants, and again we read of “beauty” (ⲥⲁⲁⲉⲓⲧ) as an ordering leitmotiv. We read that “his beautiful name” (ⲡⲉϥⲣⲉⲛ ⲉϥⲧⲥⲁⲉⲁⲉⲓⲧ) is left wherever the Demiurge works, and that “he set them over the beauty of the things below” (ⲁϥⲕⲁⲁⲩ ⲁϫⲛ̄ ⲡⲓⲧⲥⲁⲉⲓⲱ͂ ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧⲙⲡⲥⲁ ⲛⲡⲓⲧⲛ̄) (102:30–31).

The image that the cosmic system was beautifully ordered was a widespread concept in antiquity.49 TriTrac is most likely inspired by the same discourse as inspired Middle Platonists like Numenius and Plutarch who—probably in critique of the Stoic view that the cosmos was perfect in itself and did not need anything added from outside to attain the beauty of the ordered Nature50—maintained that the cosmos was not beautiful by itself but that matter needed the insertion of intelligence, reason, and harmony in order to become an ordered and beautiful system. The material powers are described in very much the same way as the irrational World Soul of Alcinous, Plutarch, and Atticus, a creative power that was sleeping before order was forced on it51—imagery similar to that used in TriTrac for the cosmic powers (82:21–27). Plotinus criticizes people he called the ‘Gnostics’ for being afraid of the rulers of the cosmos, not recognizing that it was they who gave order and beauty to the system.52 This critique does not fit TriTrac, which, as we have seen above, clearly recognizes the beautiful and systematic order that the Logos places over the whole cosmic system and its rulers.53 Nevertheless, it is also recognized that this order belongs to the governance of the cosmos, and is thus finite.

The cosmogony of TriTrac works very effectively as a political commentary: the world is systematically organized and designed to benefit the pneumatic and psychic substances. But of what consists the ordered system that the Logos places over those in power? Much as in Philo’s works, the right side of the Logos’ governing structure seems to be closely associated with honor as well as the governance of the world. Let us pause here for a moment and consider the concepts of “honor” and “glory” which seem to be a great driving force of those powers who retain positions of authority in the cosmos.

3 The Pursuit of Honor

In TriTrac there are different ways of using terms like honor (ⲧⲁⲉⲓⲟ) and glory (ⲉⲁⲩ). In their purest sense, all honor and glory belongs to God.54 The honor of God is limitless and it is the duty of the Aeons to praise the glory of God (68:14–69:14). In the Logos’ creation, however, virtuous honor is lost. Before the entry of the Savior, we read that the powers “did not have honor” ([ⲙ]ⲛ̣̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲧⲁⲉⲓⲟ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ) (83:5). The pursuit of honor and glory seems to be what the system of the Logos is built around:

They (the powers) wanted to command one another, overcoming one another [in] their empty ambition, while the glory which they possess contains a cause [of] the system which was to be.55

As we have seen above, this system, the organization of the Logos, is also described as ultimately beneficial, and not to be criticized. How should we understand this double attitude toward honor?

The political culture of the Roman Empire was structured around honor, perhaps even more than Greek society had been before it. One’s honor was based on elements like family ties, wealth, education, status, and personal character. Carlin Barton, in her study Roman Honor, and J. E. Lendon, in his work Empire of Honor, have shown how significant honor was in Roman society, how valued it was in all social classes—from slave to emperor.56 Cicero states the natural proclivity of humans for honor in this way: “By nature we yearn and hunger for honor, and once we have glimpsed, as it were, some part of its radiance, there is nothing we are not prepared to bear and suffer in order to secure it”.57 It was not enough to remain honorable by birth; one’s honor had to be proven and the glory of one’s family improved. A quote from a Roman gravestone summarizes the importance placed on the pursuit of honor: “By the way I lived my life I added to the achievements of my family. I aimed at equaling the deeds of my ancestors … I succeeded in obtaining public esteem so that they rejoice that I was born to them. My honor ennobled the stock”.58 In order to gain honor one had to seek glory and achievements of some kind, and consequently, Barton argues, honor was closely associated with activity, with labor, study, and competition (labor, industria, disciplina, diligentia, studium, aemulatio).59 If glory was not gained at the cost of effort or peril, it was not worth pursuing.

The concept φιλοτίµηµα, “love of honor” or perhaps “ambition”, is treated ambivalently among early Greek writers. Plato, for example, was skeptical about the virtue of honor and did not think of the pursuit of honor as a suitable driving force for the rulers of society.60 Aristotle viewed honor as a virtue but still advocated a middle position in its pursuit.61 Nevertheless, φιλοτίµηµα was of great importance in Greek society, a traditional ‘honor-shame culture’ like most in the ancient world, and it would become a central driving force during the Roman period as well, understandable in a society that was based on the will and drive to expand, develop, and conquer. This view of “love of honor” (φιλοτίµηµα) as a positive driving force is also reflected in early Christian writings.62 The apostle Paul, for example, uses the term φιλοτίµηµα exclusively in a positive sense, referring to what drove him to be successful in his efforts.63 Still today in Greek society, φιλοτίµηµα is of great importance, denoting the glue that keeps society prosperous and decent.64

In TriTrac the driving force of the material class of humans is the blind pursuit of command over each other, which gives them glory and honor (79:20–25). This pursuit became “a cause [of] the system which was to be” (ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲗⲁⲉⲓϭⲉ [ⲛⲧⲉ] ⲧ̣ⲥⲩⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ⲉⲧⲛⲁϣⲱⲡⲉ) (79:24–25). The psychic powers are created after the material ones and described as infected with the same lust for glory and honor. However, honor and glory are at the same time regarded as useful and potentially positive in TriTrac. Before the entry of the Savior, we read that the powers “did not have honor” ([ⲙ]ⲛ̣̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲧⲁⲉⲓⲟ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲡⲉ) (83:5). The psychics, nevertheless, gain this honor with the assent to the Savior, while the material class restlessly continues to pursue it, with no luck. The honor associated with the positions that the different powers retain in the cosmos are momentary, they only last “for a time” (ⲙ̄ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ) (120:24–25), while the glory of God is eternal (131:31–33). The honor and glory sought by the material class is described as “empty”; it is “the empty lust for glory” (ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙ̣ⲁ̣ⲉⲓⲉⲁ[ⲩ]· ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ) that draws one to “lust for command” (ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧ[ⲙⲁ]ⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ·) (84:18–21). TriTrac, therefore, seems to differentiate between the honor of God, honor gained through the Savior, and honor sought solely to command others—the honor of the material powers and of the material cosmos— which is ultimately empty. It would seem from its using the concepts of honor and glory in relation to the governance of the cosmic order that TriTrac critiques the honor culture of the Roman Empire. Honor in the world does not seem to carry any value in itself, yet at the same time it is recognized that the pursuit of honor drives the organization of the world, an organization that is described as useful and for the benefit of the pneumatics and psychics (99:4–19, 118:13–14).

Let us look more closely at relations between honor and the Logos’ command-driven system, and how TriTrac presents human relations with it.

4 Psychic Humans and Their Political Involvement

TriTrac makes clear that the different cosmic powers have different abilities that make them suitable for specific positions of authority. Lust for command, love of honor, as well as glory, envy, and jealousy are all aptitudes attached to the different levels of worldly governance. The Logos structured the cosmos to benefit “those who need education and teaching and formation” (ⲛⲉⲧⲣ̄ ⲭⲣⲓⲁ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲥⲁⲛⲉϣ ⲙⲛ̄ⲛ ⲟⲩⲥⲃⲱ ⲙⲛ̄ ϯⲙⲟⲣⲫⲏ) (104:21–23). The cosmos is created for the benefit of humanity and the powers that needed instruction. This much is clear in TriTrac. This does not mean, however, that the cosmic system is entirely good, especially given that the material foundations upon which beauty is implemented are characterized as illusion, as a sickness that will ultimately perish. Words that occur in association with materiality, as we saw in Chapter 1, are “imitation” (ⲧⲁⲛⲧⲛ) and the adjective “empty” (ϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ). The “lust for “command” is defined as a “desire” (ⲉⲡⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ) (131:24–25), and as such, it is a product of materiality, and therefore a sickness and empty.

Yet, as I have indicated, even the desire for power and earthly honor has its role in the system of the oikonomia set up by the Logos. We read that the world of humans is like the world of the powers in heaven (108:36–109:1). The left side and the right side stand opposite one another and emulate each other, the one sometimes doing good and the other evil. However, there can be no pure good or truth without understanding (ⲙⲙⲉ) and the teaching associated with the pneumatic part. This is made clear in the passages that comment on Greek philosophy and Hebrew prophesies. Before Greek philosophy is rejected, we read there was discord between the two orders of powers, and this is reflected among the learned humans on earth. Let us look at a passage commenting on Greek knowledge:

… some saying that it is according to providence that the things which exist have their being. These are the people who observe the stability and the conformity of the movement of creation. Others say that it is something alien. These are people who observe the diversity and the lawlessness and the evil of the powers. Others say that the things which exist are what is destined to happen. These are those who have studied the topic. Others say that it is something in accordance with nature. Others say that it is a self-existent. The majority, however, all who have reached as far as the visible elements, do not know anything more than them.65

Rather than trying to identify the specific ‘school of thought’ attributed to each one of these explanations—a topic other scholars have already tackled66—I wish to put this passage into the context of the discussion of beautification, that is, an ordered, cosmic system set up by the Logos, which is actually reflected on earth. Rather than mere critique, this passage contains observations of the explanations people acknowledge, and then a clarification that these explanations are incomplete. Just like the material and psychic powers of the Logos, they need the application of something from outside, otherwise they remain in conflict with each other. This is elaborated upon in the passage following the above quote. We read that the material powers are at work within the wise among the Greeks and barbarians, and that, therefore:

… nothing was in agreement with its fellows, nothing, neither philosophy nor types of medicine nor types of rhetoric nor types of music nor types of logic, but they are opinions and theories. Ineffability held sway in confusion, because of the indescribable quality of those who hold sway, who give them thoughts.67

These passages discussing different explanations to creation can easily be read without the polemical tone that is often attached to them. The struggle and strife in heaven is reflected on earth. There was no real honor to be gained, nor any real knowledge to be sought, before the Savior’s appearance on earth. The material powers and the material humans only attain empty honor and incomplete knowledge. Among the Hebrews, too—a people associated with the psychic powers—there are many different views about God, conflicting views, according to TriTrac (112:18–113:1). The psychic class is not restricted to Hebrews; rather, they are those who have the ability to become valuable members of the community. The psychics are named “the Calling” (ⲡⲧⲱϩⲙⲉ) at times (122:19–24, 122:37, 130:4), but as we have seen in the previous chapter, even though the psychics do assent to the appearance of the Savior, they still retain limited understanding compared to pneumatic Christians.

Nevertheless, TriTrac makes it clear that even the two lower levels of powers, as well as the different classes of humans associated with them, are still useful. The assent to the Savior enables some humans to gain freedom from the control of passions and “knowledge of the truth which existed before the ignorance was ruling”,68 thereby releasing them from “the servile nature in which they have suffered … (that) [draws] them down to the lust for command”.69 Yet, again, it is reiterated that even though one can separate the material powers’ influence from humanity, the Logos still “allowed them (the material substance) to exist because even they were useful for the things which were ordained”.70 We read that those who only seek the “lust for command” and remain “mixed”71 are doomed; they choose for themselves honor, but that honor is only short lived. Meanwhile, those who realize that they have only attained their earthly positions for a short time and are willing to give up their “lust for command” will receive salvation (120:15–121:6). Those whose actions are guided by temporary earthly honor are associated with the material powers and the material body while those who manage to give up their pursuit of earthly honor are associated with the psychic substance and the right side of the Logos’ system.

Does this mean that the psychics must relinquish places of worldly power?72 This is, in my opinion, not necessarily the case. It is clear that the psychics also have an element of “the lust for command”, but it would seem that as long as one is not driven by empty honor and realizes that positions of power are only “for a time and period” (ⲙ̄ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ ⲙⲛ̄ ϩⲉⲛⲥⲏⲩ) (120:24–25), one can still be saved as well as retaining one’s position in the system. Therefore, retaining political and civic positions—as well as positions of power in the heavens, governing the cosmos—would most likely have been permissible for psychics as long as one’s main goal was not to gain worldly honor, but rather to serve in the order of the Logos. The lost ones are the material people and powers who are controlled and solely driven by their “lust for command” and pursuit of earthly honor, those who persecute Christians and direct “their hatred and envy and jealousy” (ⲡⲟⲩⲙⲁⲥⲧⲉ ϣⲁⲣⲁⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲕⲱϩ· ⲙⲛ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲫⲑⲟⲛⲟⲥ) (122:8–9) against Christ and his community (120:29–121:12). Just as the psychics have gained their positions of power “for a time” (ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ), so the pneumatic mission to come to the world and “experience evil and might train themselves in them” is limited and only meant to last “for a time” (ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ).73

An interpretation that rejects involvement in everyday life does not conform well with the internal logic of the text wherein the system of the Logos’ oikonomia is valued and accepted as beneficial in light of the grand scale of things. Without contact with the outside world, with the world of the material powers and people, psychic humans and powers would not see their faults and be able to better themselves; this is the very reason the Logos places the psychics alongside the material side.

As long as the psychic people and powers prioritize their relations with the pneumatics, imitate them as students do teachers, and no longer let worldly honor control them, they can retain their positions in the cosmic system and as such actually function as valuable members of the community, as the helpers of the pneumatics, which is how TriTrac expresses it. At the end of TriTrac there is a long exposition of the nature and salvation of “the Calling” (ⲡⲧⲱϩⲙⲉ), the psychic people and powers. In this passage, which has been quoted previously in this study, we read that the psychics will be saved:

… 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, and keep the commandment of the Lord of glory, instead of the momentary honor, they inherit the eternal kingdom.74

Here the “command” is no longer called empty, but instead it is the pursuit of glory which is called empty. It would seem that temporary honor is rejected, and firmly placed among the material humans and powers who seek it for themselves above all else. “Command” (ⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ), however, does not seem to be rejected, but rather deemed a natural impulse of the psychics. This fits well with the scene in TriTrac that portrays the birth of the material powers, where the “lust for command” is described as being caused by “the empty lust for glory” (ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙ̣ⲁ̣ⲉⲓⲉⲁ[ⲩ]· ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ).75 In the above passage on the Calling, it is this very thing—the “empty lust for glory” (ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲉⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ)—that must be given up, not command.

The psychics’ relation to power is a topic to which TriTrac returns in the final pages of the text. We read that there will be no difference between slave and free man, between male and female, but all will be one in the Pleroma (132:4–133:7). This will happen “even if some are exalted because of the oikonomia”.76 Those psychics who benefit from the union and equality in the end are those who stopped worshiping other gods and instead recognized Christ as the only Lord (133:16–134:8). After realizing that Christ was Lord they also realized that the honorary titles they had were only “received on loan” (ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩϫⲓⲧⲟⲩ [ⲁ]ⲡⲟⲩϣⲉⲡ) (134:20). Then we read that the psychics “gave him their kingdoms, they rose from their thrones and they abstained from their crowns” (134:27–30).77 This passage might be interpreted to mean that psychic humans and angelic beings indeed should give up their worldly power after assenting to Christ. However, in the next sentence, we read that the psychics “were entrusted with the services that benefited the elect” (the pneumatics)78 and that the psychics will:

… remain for their sake (the pneumatics), until they have all entered into earthly life and passed out of it. As long as their bodies [remain] on the earth, serving all their [needs], making [themselves] partners in their sufferings, persecutions, and tribulations.79

Unfortunately, this passage is broken, but it nevertheless remains clear, in my opinion, that whatever authority the psychics possess should, after the assent to the Savior, not be given up, but rather turned to benefit the elect. This fits the overall attitude of the text toward governance and command, attributes that play prominent roles in the oikonomia, as ultimately serving to benefit the salvation of humans and angels. The structure of the cosmic system benefits the psychic beings because they come to their senses by comparing it with the material side, and the pneumatics benefit by learning about life in the cosmos, meanwhile being supported by powerful psychics who have mastered their attitude toward temporary honor and turned it toward benefitting “the church” (the elect pneumatics, on earth as well as heaven). Thus, TriTrac is not just deterministic on the individual level, but presents a fixed system with clear structures and an overall purpose that is designed so that the Aeons in the Pleroma may gain experiences that are impossible for them to gain in their state void of materiality (85:33–86:4).

5 Conclusion: the Character of Psychic Christians and Attitudes toward Social and Ecclesiastical Involvement

There has been some debate among scholars concerning who the psychics actually are. Are they non Valentinian Christians, non-Christian “sympathizers”, Jews (who are connected to the psychic substance: see 110ff), or non-Christian polytheists who are called to convert?80 I agree with Dunderberg who has suggested that “psychics” can refer to several of these groups.81 The psychic category is not an ethnic category, but rather refers to a cognitive state (as I have shown in Part I), and also, I would add, a social state.82 As we concluded in the previous chapter, compared with pneumatics and in terms of knowledge and education, the psychics were ‘ordinary’ Christians—leaving psychic powers to the side for a moment—and most likely did not hold positions of leadership within the community. TriTrac derives from a time when the majority society was not made up of Christians, but nevertheless a time when it was not improbable that Christians could retain positions in the upper ranks of society. This is indicated by the passages that call people and angels in power, potential psychics as it were, to give up their pursuit of worldly honor, give their crowns and thrones to Jesus, and start working for the benefit of pneumatics. Furthermore, the psychics have characteristics that make them suitable for governance and at the same time have natures which facilitate their assent to the Savior. What can this structure and attitude toward psychic involvement in the cosmic system tell us of the social context of the text?

There are not many examples of Christians in the possession of political power in the first three centuries, and many Romans viewed Christians with suspicion.83 This is perhaps not strange considering the signs of loyalty demanded of people in any official government positions, which often included sacrifice to the imperial gods. The lack of political involvement seems to have gone hand in hand with the pastoral ideal that was widespread in early Christianity. Christians were not overrepresented among the wealthy either.84 In fact, the pastoral ideal was strong even among the few Christians who were wealthy.85 As Peter Brown has discussed, many Christians spent a great deal of money ensuring their future life in paradise, especially through donations. Furthermore, some famous early Christians gave up everything they had to live a life of poverty and servitude in their community. At the same time, Christians were recorded as having been criticized for not contributing to the Roman Empire. Origen replies to Celsus’ accusation that Christians refused to perform military service or engage in political office for the benefit of the empire by saying that Christians would be more effective offering their prayer than official service.86 Even though the earliest Christians were not involved in high politics to any great extent and did not represent a significant proportion of the top tier of society, early Christian writings did not—as I argued above—generally deny the legitimacy of the Roman Empire. From the fourth century onward, as emperors started to convert and Christianity was first sanctioned and then made obligatory, things changed.87

Where does TriTrac fit in the political situation of Christians in the Roman Empire? The second century was fairly stable, bringing up the rear of the two hundred years of pax romana instigated by Augustus.88 The third century onward became in comparison immensely unstable politically, at least if one takes the constant shift in power and internal strife as indications.89 The third and fourth centuries CE saw nearly thirty emperors come and go, and countless contenders claiming their right to the throne and seeking power for themselves. Emperors died on the battlefields, a very uncommon occurrence before this time, and many were assassinated. At the same time, the administrative system of governors and tax collectors became increasingly more complex.90 Even though TriTrac’s call to abandon the blind pursuit of honor could be applied to most time periods, the association of material powers with instability and chaos, and the corruption with which “love of glory” and “lust for command” are associated, is nevertheless more reminiscent of the third-century political situation than that during the second century.

However, the oikonomia is not presented as evil or solely bad. The system the Logos sets up is good in its foundations, established in accordance with the will of the Father. Its aim is to bring edification to the Pleroma above through the experiences of the pneumatics below, and the pneumatics needed support from Christians who were not blinded by their involvement in the pursuit of worldly honor. The psychics are told to work toward bettering the situation of the pneumatics. Indeed, from this perspective, TriTrac fits better in a context where there is a real possibility for Christians to attain powerful positions in society or convert from powerful positions, than one in which they are marginalized and merely tolerated. TriTrac encourages everyday Christians to support the leadership of the community and retain positions in society that enable them to do so. Something similar is found in the writings of Cyprian of Carthage. In the middle of the third century he observes that people should pray for the prosperity of the rich and those who donate generously, so that they in turn can continue to give to the Christian community.91

There is never any question of where the moral authority of the community of TriTrac lies: with the pneumatics. How do the two aptitudes of the members of the community, the intellect of the pneumatics and the political ability of the psychics, fit into early Christian negotiations of authority and leadership within the larger Christian community? As we concluded in the previous chapter, the rhetoric of disinterest in worldly matters was at times used in order to legitimate power, and as was just mentioned, the pastoral ideal was popular in early Christianity. Thus, we should not exclude the pneumatics offhand from positions of power within society. The pneumatics undoubtedly would have been in positions of great influence within the community, considering that they are described as having a monopoly on ethics. How does this fit into the context of the emergence of clearer ecclesiastical structures within early Christian communities? In fact, the above discussion of honor and the psychics lends itself well to considering this question. The bishop, presbyter, and deacon structure would become emblematic of early Christian communities, but the authority of the bishop was not without critique, especially, it would seem, in Christian Egypt. In Apocalypse of Peter (VII, 3), a text that is materially connected to TriTrac, the bishop and deacons are rejected as “dry canals” that lead people astray (79:21–31).92 In this text, we read that no mortal human can retain honor.93 TriTrac, similarly, regards worldly honor as fleeting while favoring the language of teacher and prophet for the authority of the community, as does Apocalypse of Peter. No clergy are present in the passages describing the Apostles, prophets, and educators as pneumatics.

Third-century Alexandrian Christians like Clement and Origen also seem to prefer the image of the teacher rather than the bishop (although they are not necessarily opposed to the structure which would become prevalent).94 The call to renounce one’s worldly pleasures in favor of treasures in heaven was a popular theme in early Christianity; Jesus was portrayed in the New Testament as telling people that heavenly rewards were awaiting those who gave up their worldly possessions and acted generously (see Matt 6:20, for example).95 In the middle of the third century, the organized charity administered by Christians was being channeled toward the ecclesiastical structures, and we have sources that indicate that people were told not to give alms to the poor directly, but to give to the leaders of the community who would transfer it to the needy.96 Origen wrote that people in the newly formed leadership positions were “accustomed to be stirred up by shouts for favors, or who perhaps are provoked by financial gain”, and that the leadership positions in the community should not be hereditary but left to the people who “have the spirit of God within them”.97 No doubt, the bishops and leaders of Christian communities enjoyed benefits and honors. The clergy often received a salary, sat while others stood, and even received larger helpings of food at festive occasions than ‘ordinary’ people.98 In the Didaskalia Apostolorum it is written that it should be so that the layperson “loves the bishop and honours and fears him as father and lord”.99 The leader, as we read in Matt 23:6, receives “the place of honor”, a place associated with the right side of God, as Philo wrote.100 This honor was reserved for those in leadership positions within the community.101 Connecting honor with the mundane portion of the community in TriTrac could be read as a critique of, or an alternative structure to, the ecclesiastical structures that were becoming more firmly established in the third century. Some obviously viewed these as bringing with them problems of nepotism, and they were understood to risk promoting the pursuit of honor before spiritual growth.

TriTrac’s portrayal of psychics as those Christians who were driven by honor could very well be read as presenting a different structure where the moral authority lies, at least outwardly, with those who were detached from politics, as well as ecclesiastical and worldly ambition which was associated with worldly honor.102 One of the strongest supporters and defenders of the ecclesiastical structure of bishop, presbyter, and deacon was Alexander of Alexandria and his deacon and immediate successor, Athanasius. Athanasius’ portrayal of Antony as intensely subservient to this structure has been interpreted as his way of combatting competing views of authority within the Christian community in Alexandria.103 Some early bishops, rather than viewing ascetic authority associated with figures such as Antony as subordinate to the bishops’ authority, tapped into it by portraying themselves as detached philosopher teachers (like Gregory of Nazianzus and Basil the Great can be said to have done), but they were never actually detached from the halls of power.104 Images of holy men and women fleeing worldly honor and combatting the “lust for power” are, indeed, common, and several famous characters in the burgeoning Egyptian monasticism were portrayed as refusing to take official seats within the ecclesiastical structure that grew even more prominent in the fourth century. Pachomius is said to have addressed his disciples and “frequently told them that it was not good to ask for office and glory … (for) clerical office is the beginning of the contemplation of the lust for power (φιλαρχία)”.105 In the fourth century, and later in the fifth, monks were frequently recruited to office. The monk Ammonius, and he is not alone, is said to have maimed himself in order to escape recruitment into the ecclesiastical structures (citing Lev 21:16–24 which disqualifies a mutilated man from priesthood).106

The ecclesiastical structures that developed in the third century were obviously seen as obstructing the task that these people had set themselves. Honor belonged to ‘the world’ and was thought to be opposed to, or at least hamper, the pursuit of spiritual and moral excellence. In this way, TriTrac is very interesting to read from the perspective of early claims to authority and the developing ecclesiastical structures; it seems to resonate with a model apparently favored by Clement and Origen, and later realized in monasticism: a model that allowed for and even supported worldly ambition for part of the Christian community, while rejecting it for those devoted wholeheartedly to the pursuit of moral excellence. As such, the social model in TriTrac is a much closer fit with the lives and visions of Origen and Clement, and later monastic figures such as Antony and Ammonius—who lived their lives as teachers and role models devoted to study and spiritual pursuits—than of bishops such as Athanasius, Gregory, and Basil who may have preached the rejection of worldly honor while combining it with the wielding of great worldly power.

In TriTrac pneumatics and psychics are associated with different ‘skill sets’. Clement wrote that the Gnostic Christian strove for complete eradication of the passions, the goal being apatheia. This was not, however, realistic for everybody; regular people, people living in the world, should strive for balance, metriopatheia.107 These thoughts strike a chord with the political theory of Plato and Aristotle—which in turn went hand in hand with the medical and anatomic theories of the time—according to which humans were endowed with different characteristics due to the composition of their minds and bodies.108 Intellect and reason should govern, but the bodily attributes and the passions associated with them were still useful, especially if one pursued a life ‘in the world’. It is in this context that the political attitudes reflected in TriTrac make most sense.

As I argued in Chapter 2, TriTrac portrays an anatomic and cognitive model which maintains that passions associated with the psychê (soul) can be useful, particularly when guided toward aiding the pneuma (intellect). Therefore, one could say, the ideal community structure presented in the text is built into the very nature of humanhood; it is reflected in the anatomic and cognitive structures: those with earthly command should aid the intellectual elites by tapping into—but not becoming slave to—emotions like honor and lust for command. In this way, what we have in TriTrac is somewhat like a client- patron or teacher-student relationship, where the ‘everyday’ Christians work for the benefit for their intellectual betters in exchange for their support, guidance, and prayers. This arrangement is not something unique to TriTrac. Peter Brown has called the phenomenon “spiritual exchange”.109 Within Christianity, it can be traced back to Paul’s appeal to the congregation in Corinth: “If we have sown spiritual good among you, is it too much if we reap your material benefits?” (1 Cor 9:11). The pneumatics are described as possessed of skillsets that remind us of the ideal teacher; they are told to gain moral excellence and function as role models, like the sage philosopher in Greek and Roman contexts, or the rabbi in the Jewish context.110 The arrangement where the student supports the teacher financially and the teacher facilitates the model for imitation, has much in common with the educational system in antiquity.111 In light of the financial-spiritual exchange, it is understandable that apatheia is not an option, especially for the psychics who are described as driven by the pursuit of honor. Rather, the ideal is to reach metriopatheia, because it was necessary to utilize some passions in the everyday life of the Roman Empire.112

How would this spiritual exchange have appeared in practice? Again, Origen furnishes a pertinent example. When Origen was still in Alexandria he is said to have been supported by a certain Ambrosius, who had previously been a Valentinian, but whom Origen had turned to become his patron instead.113 I imagine that the support that the psychics should give the pneumatics in TriTrac looked something like this: wealthy and influential Christians like Ambrosius supporting intellectual and spiritual Christians like Origen and his students. It is not unthinkable that they came together at times to celebrate communion, occasions when ‘spiritual’, educational, and intellectual currency could be exchanged for monetary and political support.114 The story of Origen’s benefactor also indicates that there were contacts between Christians such as Origen and those who were inspired by Valentinian theology, and Ambrosius’ conversion indicates that there was overlap, too.115 I suggest that we read TriTrac in light of an early Christian Alexandrian scene in which relations between the orthodox and heretics were not as fixed as later ecclesiastical historians such as Eusebius and Athanasius would like to suggest, and where ecclesiastical structures headed by the bishop were not without challenge, but, rather, intellectual pursuits were valued before worldly power.116

Since the pneumatics are presented as the ideal Christians in TriTrac and those whom people should revere, they would probably have been wielding great influence over a group based on this model. As Christians to a large extent were excluded from political power in the third century, it is not strange that TriTrac as well as many other third-century Christians like Clement and Origen, adopted and developed a language and rhetoric that favored those who did not seek worldly power in the first place, but who were advanced and powerful in the spirit. When Christians finally gained greater access to power, this ideal did not disappear but was rather appropriated to the new circumstances. Thus, it is understandable that Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and other early and powerful bishops who lived in close proximity to power politics all their lives, were presented as reluctant leaders who really wanted to spend their lives as recluse philosophers.117 TriTrac seems to be located adjacent to this context, deriving from an earlier time when neither ecclesiastical structures nor monastic communities were firmly established, when Christians had begun to gain access to, or be converted from, positions of power, but where the moral authority was kept firmly among those who sought spiritual rather than worldly power and where honor was associated strongly with the worldly pursuits of the Roman empire.

The structures that were ultimately to prevail in the greater Church at times led to problems with nepotism and self-aggrandizement; it seems to have been a particular problem among bishops in fourth-century Egypt.118 In light of this, texts such as TriTrac where the intellectual (who is not a politician) is favored as the natural leader of the community would have remained relevant through the fourth and fifth centuries, especially in monastic settings. As Samuel Rubenson and others have shown, the persona of the reclusive scholar (such as Clement, Origen, and Didymus) was taken over by the monk.119 It is in this context that we also find TriTrac, in the third-century negotiations for authority between bishops with growing worldly power on the one side, and intellectual reclusives on the other, reclusives who in a much more efficient way than the bishop would have had the opportunity to manifest one of the more important signs of moral excellence: a life devoid of worldly honor, devoted to spiritual progress.

The intellectualism is outspoken in TriTrac, perhaps more so than in many other early Christian treatises. Nevertheless, the portrayal of humans as divided into different groups defined by intellectual ability has sometimes been presented, somewhat similarly to Christian determinism in general, as an erroneous exaggeration made up by polemicizing heresiologists. Valentinians did not, some have claimed, think of themselves as predestined spirituals (pneumatics) who were better than others.120 Granted, psychics belong to the in-group in TriTrac and are portrayed as deserving salvation, but even though heresiologists often expressed themselves partially and in un-nuanced ways, they were not without merit in stating the rigidity of systems that placed pneumatics on top of an intellectual hierarchy.

In light of the general intellectualism that governed ancient discussions of ethics, it was not just the Valentinian pneumatics who monopolized ethics and saw themselves as intellectually superior to others; so did Origen, Clement, and many monks that took after them.121 Furthermore, the emphasis on aiding people engaged with spiritual pursuits certainly opened up possibilities for those who were otherwise hampered by the rigidity of the ancient social landscape, people who, without help, would not have had access to a life free of everyday toils. Still, as I have attempted to show above, the spiritual life would have meant toil of another sort: subjecting oneself to a pedagogical project entailing rigorous study, when, as reports from early monasteries tell us, not all were made for a life devoted to study and prayer, some just did not have what it took to lead such an existence.122 This is in TriTrac expressed with the term ⲣ̄ⲅⲩⲙⲛⲁⲍⲉ (γυµνάζω)123 which is a concept also used by Clement and Origen for the exercise of Christian life, especially higher spiritual life and moral perfection.124 As I have stated before, however, a deterministic system would not have negated social movement in practice. In fact, the differences in social implications between an ethical system based on an anthropology that restricted human choice and one on an anthropology adopting the doctrine of free will would most likely have been subtle indeed, which is also indicated by the similarities in the social models favored by TriTrac, Origen, and Clement. All three seem to divide Christians into groups based on intellectual ability, favoring the intellectual devoted to moral and spiritual pursuits as the natural leaders of the Christian community. As shall be elaborated upon in the concluding chapter, this ideal does not disappear when the bishop, presbyter, and deacon structure prevails, but carries on, especially in the monastic movements that develop in fourth-century Egypt.

Let us now turn to concluding the findings of this study and discuss some implications.

1

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 161–173. “Lust for command” seems indeed to be especially important in TriTrac since it is mentioned, always in the same, lengthy construction ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ, at least 14 times throughout the text.

2

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 168–170.

3

133:22–26: ⲁⲩⲕⲱ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲟⲩ̣ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲛⲟⲩⲧⲉ· ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩϣⲙ̄ϣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ϣⲟⲣⲡ̄· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ϫⲟⲉⲓⲥ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ· ϩⲛ̄ ⲧⲡⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ ϩⲓ̈ϫⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲁϩ.

4

134:27–30: ⲁⲩϯ ⲛⲁϥ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲙⲛⲧⲣ̄ⲣⲁⲉⲓ ⲁⲩⲧⲱ̣[ⲱ]ⲛ̣ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ̣· [ϩ]ⲛ̣̄[ⲛ] ⲟⲩⲑⲣⲟⲛⲟⲥ ⲁⲩϣⲉϣⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲃ[ⲁⲗ]· ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩϭⲣⲏⲡⲉ. Attridge and Pagels translates the last sentence as “they were kept from their crowns”, but this does not fit with the context (who would keep them from their crowns?) and thus I have opted for interpreting ϣⲉϣⲧ ⲁⲃ[ⲁⲗ] reflexively.

5

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 170.

6

118:13–14: ⲛⲉⲩⲣ̄ϣⲉⲩ ϩⲱⲟⲩ ⲁⲛ ⲡⲉ· ⲁⲛⲉⲧⲁⲩⲧⲁϣⲟⲩ.

7

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 173.

8

122:7–9: ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ⲧⲕⲉⲉⲕⲕⲗⲏⲥⲓⲁ· ϩⲱⲱⲥ ⲁⲛ ⲉϥϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲡⲟⲩⲙⲁⲥⲧⲉ ϣⲁⲣⲁⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲕⲱϩ· ⲙⲛ̄ ⲡⲟⲩⲫⲑⲟⲛⲟⲥ. See also page 135 in TriTrac which likewise shows awareness of times of persecution, calling upon people to share in the sufferings of those “saints” (ⲛⲟⲩⲁⲁⲃ) who were persecuted.

9

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 171.

10

Dunderberg uses The Book of Revelation as an example of the difficulty of drawing contextual conclusions from language of persecution. The Book of Revelation is perhaps the most anti-Roman text in the New Testament, painting a picture of great Christian suffering at the hands of demonic Romans. But this is a text which was most likely written in times of peace and prosperity. This is thoroughly discussed in Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 168–170. For more on The Book of Revelation as stemming from a time of peace and prosperity for Christians, see Leonard Thompson, The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990).

11

See for example Candida Moss, The Myth of Persecution: How Early Christians Invented a Story of Martyrdom (New York: HarperCollins, 2013).

12

The feeling of uniqueness is important in order to create a sense of self, and this must be protected against groups with which one risks involvement, against groups who are too similar and thus threaten one’s feeling of distinctiveness. However, the feeling of belonging, the need to be similar, is just as important in creating an identity. This is very similar to Jonathan Z. Smith’s points on cognition and the human need and aptitude for comparison; identity creation likewise draws on both similarity and difference. See Brewer, “The Social Self”, 475–482; Smith, Drudgery Divine, 37, 42, 47. For insights into identity construction in the ancient Jewish communities, see Jonathan Z. Smith, “Fences and Neighbors: Some Contours of Early Judaism”, in Imagining Religion: From Babylon to Jonestown, ed. Jonathan Z. Smith (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1982), 1–18.

13

For an overview of the topic, see Francis Dvornik, Early Christian and Byzantine Political Philosophy, 2 vol. (Washington D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks, 1966); for attitudes toward politics after Constantine, see Elm, Sons of Hellenism; see also Christoph Markschies, Christian Theology and Its Institutions in the Early Roman Empire, translated by Wayne Coppins (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2015).

14

Tertullian, Apology 30.

15

Justin Martyr, First Apology 3, 11; Athenagoras, A Plea for the Christians 34.2–3.

16

Irenaeus, Against Heresies V.25.

17

Origen, Against Celsus II.30.

18

For a study devoted to the nature of Roman governance and Christian involvement in it, see Brown, Power and Persuasion.

19

See, for example, Elaine Pagels, “The Demiurge and his Archons: A Gnostic View of the Bishop and Presbyters”, Harvard Theological Review 69 (1976): 301–324. Although I also argue that TriTrac takes action against structures that became prevalent in the mainstream church, i.e. the bishop, presbyter, and deacon structure, I do this on somewhat different grounds: TriTrac does not participate in a Gnostic-Christian dichotomy, where Gnostics rejected church structures while Christians embraced them. Rather, it is involved in intra-Christian debates over authority and legitimacy, favoring the image of the teacher and intellectual (much in line with Clement and Origen for example).

20

See, for example, W. H. C. Frend, The Donatist Church (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1952); Jane Merdinger, Rome and the African Church in the Time of Augustine (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1997).

21

Irenaeus, Against Heresies I.1, I.8, I.11, II.3, II.14.

22

Hans Kippenberg, “Versuch einer soziologischen Verortung des antiken Gnostizismus”, Numen 17 (1970): 211–231. This view is by no means erased yet. Most recently ‘Gnostics’ have been portrayed in much the same manner by Karamanolis, Philosophy, 222. Here he writes that ‘Gnostics’ were not motivated to be good according to the standards of the world, because the world was created by a lower God. I am not claiming that there are no texts associated with ‘Gnosticism’ that also critique the structures of society, only that this cannot be generalized. For one such argument see for example, Karen King’s assessment of ApJohn, in King, Secret Revelation, 1–24, 157–173.

23

Williams, Rethinking. Dunderberg’s critique of Williams in Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 164 is very important to note, however. Here Dunderberg points out that even though the church fathers’ rejections and portrayals of ‘Gnostics’ as world rejecters cannot be taken at face value, neither should one do the opposite: interpret them as more in tune with society, which Williams argued in his work (on account of the fact that the church fathers portray them as more in tune with philosophy and the eating of sacrificial meats). These statements also rest on polemics, Dunderberg notes (Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 164).

24

For an article arguing that a ‘negative’ world view did not result in dismissal of social involvement, see Michael A. Williams, “A Life Full of Meaning and Purpose: Demiurgic Myths and Social Implications”, in Iricinschi, Beyond, 19–59.

25

Williams’ attempt to argue that there is little evidence for taking Irenaeus’ portrayal of the Valentinians at face value, although basically right, leads him in the wrong direction when he asserts that the opposite might even have been true; that Valentinians were Christians who stood closer to society than other Christians. He based this conclusion on Irenaeus’ depiction of Valentinians as participating in the consumption of sacrificial meat during pagan festivals, which Irenaeus refused to do, and that this indicated the Valentinian’s positive attitude toward mingling in pagan society. However, as Dunderberg has argued, the sources for Valentinian’s eating of sacrificial meat rests on the same polemical material which Williams rejects in the first instance. For more, see Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 162–164.

26

Williams, Rethinking, passim.

27

99:18–19: ϣ̣ⲁⲛⲧⲉϥⲣ̄ ϩⲛⲉϥ ⲁⲣⲁⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲡⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ̣ ⲉⲩⲣ̄ⲱϣⲉⲩ ⲁⲧⲟⲓⲕⲟⲓⲛⲟⲙⲓⲁ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

28

For Philo’s relation to the Greco-Roman legal system, see John W. Martens, One God, One Law: Philo of Alexandria on the Mosaic and Greco-Roman Law (Leiden: Brill, 2003).

29

Dillon, Middle Platonists, 153–155.

30

Philo, On Abraham 124–130.

31

For more on Plato and his later followers related to politics and power, see Dominic J. O’Meara, Platonopolis: Platonic Political Philosophy in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 3–26.

32

Plato, The Republic I.349b, III.412b–414b, V.462a–b.

33

Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics III.1125b22. For more on theory of emotions, see Chapter 2 above.

34

Plutarch, To an Uneducated Ruler 780e. See Dillon, Middle Platonists, 198.

35

Plotinus, Ennead III.7.11. For more on Plotinus and his view on the soul’s descent, see Damian Caluori, Plotinus on the Soul (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015). For a discussion of the relationship between TriTrac and Plotinus, see Berno, “Rethinking Valentinianism”, 331–345.

36

85:33–86:4: ϫⲉ ⲡⲓⲥⲗⲁⲧⲉ ⲉⲛⲧⲁϩϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲁⲛⲁⲓⲱ[ⲛ] ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲡⲓⲱⲧ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲉⲧⲉⲙ̄ⲡⲟⲩϣⲡ̣ ⲙ̄ⲕⲁϩ· ⲁⲩϫⲓⲧϥ̄ ⲁⲣⲁⲩ ϩⲱⲥ ⲉⲡⲟⲟⲩ ⲡⲉ ϩⲛ̄ⲛ ⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ϫⲁⲉⲓⲣⲁⲟⲩϣ· ⲙⲛ̄ ⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲣ̣ ⲃⲱ̣[ⲛ] ⲁⲩⲱ ϩⲛ̄ⲛ ⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧϩⲗ̄ϭⲉ ⲉⲛⲁϣⲱⲥ [ⲁⲩϫⲓⲧϥ ⲛⲛⲓⲡ]ⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲁⲧⲣⲟⲩⲧⲥⲉⲃⲟ ⲁⲡ̣[ϣⲧⲁ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲓ]ⲧⲟⲟⲧϥ̄ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲟⲩⲉⲉⲓ ⲡⲁ[ⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲟⲩⲧⲁϫ]ⲣ̣ⲟ ⲧⲏⲣⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲓ̈ⲧⲟⲟⲧϥ̄ [ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲉⲧϥ̄]· ⲁⲗⲁϭ ⲛ̄ϣⲧⲁ· Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified. See also 126:32–34 where we read that the pneumatic class is come to this world to “experience the evil things and (so that they) might train themselves in them” (ⲉⲩⲛⲁϫⲓϯⲡⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲑⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲣ̄ ⲅⲩⲙⲛⲁⲍⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲛ̄ϩⲣⲏⲓ̈ ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ), and in TriTrac it is the pneumatic substance that is re-integrated with the Pleroma.

37

79:27–28, 80:9, 83:35, 84:15, 84:21, 98:10, 99:11–20, 103:22, 120:16–24, 131:24–35.

38

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 162.

39

80:5–9: ⲉϩⲛ̄ⲣⲉϥⲙ̄ⲗⲁ̣[ϩ] ⲛⲉ· ⲉϩⲛ̄ⲣⲉϥⲙⲓϣⲉ ⲛⲉ ⲉϩ̣ⲛ̄ⲣⲉϥϯ ϣⲧⲁⲣⲧⲣ̄ ⲛⲉ· ⲉϩⲛ̄ⲁ̣ⲡ̣ⲟⲥⲧ̣ⲁ̣ⲧⲏⲥ ⲛⲉ· ϩⲛ̄ⲁⲧⲣ̄ ⲡⲓⲑⲉ ⲛ̣ⲉ̣ ⲉϩ̣ⲛ̣̄ⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

40

84:17–21: ⲉⲥⲥⲱⲕ̣ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁ̣ⲩ ⲧⲏⲣⲟⲩ ⲛϭⲓ ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙ̣ⲁ̣ⲉⲓⲉⲁ[ⲩ]· ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ· ⲁϩⲟ̣[ⲩⲛ] ⲁⲧⲉⲡ̣ⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧ[ⲙⲁ]ⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

41

See Chapter 2 for details on the passions of the material side.

42

88:22–25: ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ ⲉϥⲧⲏϣ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲉⲡⲓⲥⲧⲏⲙⲁ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲁϥϯ ⲛⲉϥ ⲛ̄ⲟⲩϭⲁⲙ· ⲁⲧⲣⲉϥⲡⲱⲣϫ̄ ϥⲛⲟⲩϩⲉ· ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁϥ ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲧ·{ⲧ}ⲟⲉⲓ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲁⲧⲣ̄ ⲡⲓⲑⲉ ⲛⲉϥ.

43

90:18–24. See the discussion in Chapter 3 where I suggest that ⲣ ϩⲟⲙⲟⲗⲟⲅⲓ may have this connotation in TriTrac, equivalent to συγκατάθεσις, something a mind does when accepting outside impressions.

44

89:25–28: ⲁⲡϣⲓⲕⲉ ⲡⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧ·ⲁⲧⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ· ⲉⲧⲉ ⲡⲉⲧⲟⲩⲙⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲁⲣⲁϥ ϫⲉ ⲡⲕⲉⲕⲉⲓ {ϩ}ⲉⲧϩⲉ ⲥⲁ ⲛⲃⲟⲗ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲡⲭⲁⲟⲩⲥ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲉⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲡⲛⲟⲩⲛ.

45

89:34–90:1: ⲁϥⲕⲁⲁϥ ⲛⲉⲩ ϫⲉ ⲥⲉⲛⲁⲣ̄ ϣⲉⲩ ϩⲱⲟⲩ ⲁⲧⲟⲓⲕⲟⲛⲟⲙⲓⲁ ⲉⲧⲁϣⲱⲡ̣ⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

46

For more on this third and highest class of powers, see Chapter 4, where I discuss the pedagogic task appointed to them.

47

100:7–11: ⲙⲛ̄ ⲗⲁⲩⲉ ⲉϥⲟⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲁⲧⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ· ⲁⲩⲱ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲗ̣ⲁⲩⲉ ⲉϥⲟⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲁⲧ·ⲧⲣ̄ⲣⲟ ϫⲓⲛ [ⲁⲣⲏ]ϫϥ̄ ⲛⲙⲡⲏⲩⲉ· ϣⲁ ⲁⲣⲏϫϥ̄ ⲙ̄ⲡ[ⲕⲁϩ].

48

100:12–18: ⲟ̣[ⲩⲛ̄ ⲣ̄]ⲣⲟ ⲟⲩⲛ̄ ϫⲁⲉⲓⲥ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛⲉⲧ[ⲟ]ⲩ[ⲉϩ] ⲥ̣ⲁ̣ϩⲛⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ϩⲁⲉⲓⲛⲉ ⲙⲉⲛ̣ ⲁ̣ⲧ̣ⲣⲟⲩϯ ⲕⲟⲗⲁⲥⲓⲥ ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉ̣ⲕ̣ⲁ̣ⲩⲉ ⲁⲧⲣⲟⲩϯ ϩⲁⲡ ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉϩⲁⲉⲓⲛⲉ ⲁⲧⲣⲟⲩϯ ⲙ̄ⲧⲁⲛ ⲛⲥⲉⲧⲁⲗϭⲟ· ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉⲕⲁⲩⲉ ⲁⲧⲣⲟ̣ⲩ̣ϯ̣ ⲥⲃⲱ· ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉⲕⲁⲩⲉ ⲧⲣⲟⲩⲁⲣⲏϩ.

49

See Perkins, “Beauty, Number, and Loss”, 277–296.

50

Cicero, On the Nature of the Gods II.58–167.

51

See Dillon, Middle Platonists, 204–208, 253–257, 285–287.

52

Plotinus, Ennead II.9, 13.

53

In this respect, the beauty we encounter in TriTrac seems to be different from how beauty is described in GosTruth or InterpKnow, for example, where the beauty of the system of the cosmos is described as an illusion or oppressor that induces fear and terror in humans; this is closer to the view of Plotinus’ opponents than TriTrac. As GosTruth tells us, the Demiurge (or rather the creature called ⲡⲗⲁⲛⲏ) created a “beautiful (ⲥⲁⲉⲓⲉ) substitute for truth” (17:19). This beauty is contrasted with the “perfect beauty” that is associated with the world above (17:27). In InterpKnow 7:17 and 7:32 we read of beautiful but dark reflection of the true Virgin of light, similarly, most likely a reference to Sophia as representing the Dyad and the cosmic order. A problem with Perkins’ discussion of the relation between Middle Platonic systems and Nag Hammadi texts is the use of the category ‘Gnostic’ in her study. Perkins places such texts as TriTrac, GosTruth, and Eugnostos, as well as Sethian Platonic treatises, into this category. See Perkins, “Beauty, Number, and Loss”. Treating all these texts as representations of one tradition obviates important differences between them.

54

The terms glory and honor appear frequently on pages 54–60 in relation to God, see especially: 54:9–10 and 56:8–22.

55

79:20–25: ϫⲉ ⲛⲉⲩⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ· ⲁⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁ[ϩⲛ]ⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲉⲩⲉⲣⲏⲩ ⲉⲩϭⲣⲱ· ⲁⲣⲁⲟⲩ [ϩⲛ] ⲧⲟⲩⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲉⲁⲟⲩ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉ̣[ⲓ]ⲧ̣· ⲉⲡⲉⲁⲩ ⲉⲧⲉⲩⲛⲧⲉⲩϥ· ⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧ̣ⲉϥ̣ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ⲛⲟⲩⲗⲁⲉⲓϭⲉ [ⲛⲧⲉ] ⲧ̣ⲥⲩⲥⲧⲁⲥⲓⲥ ⲉⲧⲛⲁϣⲱⲡⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

56

Barton, Roman Honor; J. E. Lendon, Empire of Honor: The Art of Government in the Roman World (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996).

57

Cicero, Tusculan Disputations II.24.58. Translation from Barton, Roman Honor, 37.

58

Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae 6, ed. Hermann Dessau, vol. 1 (Berlin: Berolini Apud Weidmannos, 1892): 3. Translation from Barton, Roman Honor, 85.

59

Barton, Roman Honor, 34–56.

60

Plato, The Republic 347b. Here Plato writes that a ruler should not rule for the desire for honor (φιλοτίµηµα) or for money; that would be reproachable.

61

Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics III.1125b22.

62

For more on the transition from pagan to Christina society and the continuation of the ideal of honor, see Peter Brown, The Making of Late Antiquity (Cambridge, M.A.: Harvard University Press, 1993), 27–53.

63

Rom 15:2; 2 Cor 5; 1 Thess 4:11.

64

See Peter Walcot, Greek Peasants, Ancient and Modern: A Comparison of Social and Moral Values (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1970).

65

109:7–24: ⲉⲩϫⲱ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ ϫ[ⲉ] ⲛⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ· ⲉⲩϣⲟⲟⲡ ⲛ̄ϩⲣ̣ⲏⲓ̈ ϩⲛ̄ [ⲟⲩ]ⲡⲣⲟⲛⲟⲓⲁ· ⲉⲧⲉ ⲛⲉⲧ[ϭⲁ]ϣ̣ⲧ̣̄ ⲛⲉ ⲁⲡⲥⲙⲓⲛⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲕⲓⲙ· ⲙⲡ̣[ⲥ]ⲱ̣ⲛⲧ̄ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣ̄ ⲡⲓⲑⲉ· ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉⲕⲁⲩⲉ̣ ⲉⲩϫⲱ ⲙ̄ⲙⲟⲥ· ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲁⲗⲟⲧⲣⲓⲟⲛ ⲡⲉ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲛⲉ· ⲉⲧϭⲁϣⲧ̄· ⲁⲧ<ⲙ>ⲛ̄ⲧⲁ̣<ⲧ>ϣ̣ⲣ̣̅ ⲙⲓⲛⲉ· ⲙⲛ̄ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧϩⲉⲡ ⲛ̄ⲛⲓϭⲟⲙ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲡⲉⲧⲑⲁⲩ ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉⲕⲁⲩⲉ· ⲉ[ⲩ]ϫⲟⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ· ϫⲉ ⲡⲉⲧⲏⲡ ⲁϣⲱⲡ̣ⲉ̣ ⲛⲉ ⲛⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ· ⲉⲧⲉ ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲛⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁ̣[ⲩ]ⲥⲣ̄ϥⲉ ⲁⲡⲓϩⲱⲃ· ϩⲛ̄ ⲕⲉⲕⲁⲩⲉ ⲉⲩϫⲱ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ ϫⲉ ⲟⲩⲕⲁⲧⲁ ⲫⲩⲥⲓⲥ ⲡ[ⲉ] ϩⲛ̄ⲕⲉⲕⲁⲩⲉ· ⲉⲩϫⲱ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ ϫⲉ ⲛⲟⲩ ⲡⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ· ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲉⲧϥ̄· ⲡϩⲟⲩⲟ ⲇⲉ̣ ⲧⲏⲣϥ̄ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲩⲡⲱϩ ϣⲁ ⲛⲓⲥⲧⲟⲓⲭ̣ⲓ̣[ⲟⲛ] ⲉⲧⲟⲩⲁⲛϩ̄ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ· ⲙ̄ⲡⲟⲩⲥⲟⲩⲱⲛ ϩⲟⲩⲟ̣ ⲁⲣⲁⲟⲩ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified. Here I translate ⲥⲣ̄ϥⲉ “study”, and draw the connection between “leisure” (which the term literarily means) and study. The Greek equivalent of ⲥⲣ̄ϥⲉ is σχολάζειν (Crum, Coptic, 357a), from where we have the modern terms school/Schule/école. It was those who had time for leisure who studied in antiquity.

66

For a discussion of whom these statements might refer to—Stoics, Epicureans and others—see Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 178–180. It is interesting to note here that the second group—those who reject the cosmic system and its powers as evil—sound a good deal like the systems and groups Plotinus also criticized (Plotinus, Ennead II.9, 13). On the ‘Gnostic’ opponents of Plotinus, see Dylan Burns, Apocalypse of the Alien God: Platonism and the Exile of Sethian Gnosticism (Philadelphia, P.A.: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014).

67

110:11–22: ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲡⲉⲉⲓ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲗⲁⲩⲉ· ϣ̣ⲱⲡⲉ· ⲉϥϯ ⲙⲉⲧⲉ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛⲉϥⲉⲣⲏⲟⲩ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲗⲁⲩⲉ ⲛϩⲱⲃ ⲟⲩⲇⲉ· ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲫⲓⲗⲟⲥⲟⲫⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲇⲉ ϩⲛⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲥⲉⲉⲓⲛ ⲟⲩⲇⲉ ϩⲛ̄ⲙⲛ̄ⲧϩⲣⲏⲧⲱⲣ· ⲟⲩⲇⲉ ϩⲛ̄ ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲟⲩⲥⲓⲕⲟⲛ ⲟⲩⲇⲉ ϩⲛ̄ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲣⲅⲁⲛⲟⲛ ⲁⲗⲗⲁ ϩⲛ̄ⲉⲁⲩ ⲛⲉ ϩⲓ̈ ⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣⲉϥⲙ̄ⲙⲉ· ⲁⲥϣⲱⲡⲉ ⲉⲥⲁⲙⲁϩⲧⲉ ⲁϫⲛ̄ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧϯ ϩⲣⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲉϥⲙⲁϭϫ· ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧ·ⲧⲉⲟⲩ· [ϫ]ⲉ̣ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲛⲉⲧⲁⲙⲁϩⲧⲉ ⲉⲧϯ ⲛⲉⲩ ⲛⲛⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩⲉ.

68

117:28–30: ⲡⲓⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲧⲙⲏⲉ· ⲉⲧϣⲟⲟⲡ· ϩⲁⲑⲏ ⲇⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲁⲧⲉⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲧⲥⲁⲩⲛⲉ ϣⲱⲡⲉ.

69

117:34–118:2: ⲟⲩⲣ̄ⲃⲟⲗ· ⲉⲃⲟⲗ ⲧⲉ ⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲟⲧⲥ̄ ⲛ̄ϯⲫⲩⲥⲓⲥ ⲙ̄ⲙⲛ̄ⲧϭⲁⲩⲁⲛ· ⲧⲁⲉⲓ ⲛ̄ⲧⲁⲩϣⲱⲡ ⲙ̄ⲕⲁϩ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲥ… ⲉⲧⲥ̣[ⲱ]ⲕ̣ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲁⲡⲓⲧⲛ̄ ⲁⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲓ̈ⲟⲩⲁϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

70

118:12–14: ⲉⲁϥⲕⲁⲩⲉ· ⲁⲧⲣⲟⲩϣⲱⲡⲉ· ϫⲉ ⲛⲉⲩⲣ̄ ϣⲉⲩ ϩⲱⲟⲩ ⲁⲛ ⲡⲉ· ⲁⲛⲉⲧⲁⲩⲧⲁϣⲟⲩ.

71

“Mixed” as in lost in the material part of one’s earthly existence. See more on this discussion in Chapter 1 above.

72

Dunderberg has argued that “Conversion involves, thus, abandonment of both power and idolatry” (Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 170).

73

126:32–35: ⲉⲩⲛⲁϫⲓ ϯⲡⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲑⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲣ̄ ⲅⲩⲙⲛⲁⲍⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲛ̄ϩⲣⲏⲓ̈ ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ ⲙ̣̅ⲡⲣ̣ⲏ̣ⲧⲏ ⲛ̣ⲛ̣ⲟ̣ⲩ̣ […..] ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲓ̈ϣ.

74

131:22–132:3: ⲛⲉⲉⲓ ⲉⲛⲧⲁⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ϩⲛ̄ ⲧⲉⲉⲓⲉⲡⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉ ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ· ⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲡⲓⲥⲓⲧⲉ· ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ ⲉⲧⲉ ⲧⲉⲉⲓ ⲧⲉ ⲧⲙ<ⲛ̄>ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ ⲥⲉⲛⲁϫⲓ ⲛ̄ⲧϣⲃ̄ⲃⲓⲱ͂· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ϭⲓ ⲛⲁⲉⲓ̣ ⲉ̣ⲛⲧⲁϩⲣ̄ ϩⲱⲃ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛⲁⲉⲓ ⲉⲧⲉⲩⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩ ⲙ̄ⲙⲉⲩ ⲛ̄ϯⲡⲣⲟⲁⲓⲣⲉⲥⲓⲥ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲩϣⲁⲣ̄ ϩⲛⲉⲩ ϩⲛⲛ ⲟⲩⲅⲛⲱⲙⲏ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲟⲩⲱϣⲉ· ⲁⲕⲱⲉ ⲛ̄ⲥⲱⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲁⲉⲓⲉⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ· ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲥⲏⲟⲩ ⲛ̄[ⲥⲉⲣ] ⲡⲟⲩⲁϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡϫⲟⲓ̈ⲥ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲁⲩ ⲁⲛⲧⲓ ⲡⲓⲧⲁⲉⲓⲟ ⲡⲣⲟⲥ ⲟⲩⲁⲉⲓϣ ϣⲏⲙ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲣ̄ ⲕⲗⲏⲣⲟⲛⲟⲙⲓ ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲣ̄ⲣⲟ· ϣⲁ ⲉⲛⲉϩ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

75

84:17–21: “The empty lust for glory draws all of them to desire for the lust for command” (ⲉⲥⲥⲱⲕ̣ ⲙ̄ⲙⲁ̣ⲩ ⲧⲏⲣⲟⲩ ⲛϭⲓ ϯⲙⲛ̄ⲧⲙ̣ⲁ̣ⲉⲓⲉⲁ[ⲩ]· ⲉⲧϣⲟⲩⲉⲓⲧ· ⲁϩⲟ̣[ⲩⲛ] ⲁⲧⲉⲡ̣ⲓⲑⲩⲙⲓⲁ· ⲛ̄ⲧⲙⲛ̄ⲧ[ⲙⲁ]ⲉⲓⲟⲩⲉϩ ⲥⲁϩⲛⲉ). Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

76

133:8–9: ⲉⲩⲛ̄ ϩⲁⲉⲓⲛⲉ ϫⲁⲥⲉ ⲉⲧⲃⲉ ⲧⲟⲓⲕⲟⲛⲟⲙⲓⲁ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

77

Translation by Attridge and Pagels, slightly modified.

78

135:4–6: ⲁⲩⲛ̄ϩⲟⲩⲧⲟⲩ ⲁⲛⲓϣⲙ̄ϣⲉ· ⲉ̣ⲧ̣ⲉⲓⲣⲉ ⲙ̄ⲡⲉⲧⲛⲁⲛⲟⲩϥ ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲥⲱⲧⲡ̄.

79

135:9–16: ⲉⲩⲙⲏⲛ ⲁϩⲟⲩⲛ ⲉⲧⲃⲏⲧ̣ⲟⲩ ϣ[ⲁ]ⲧ̣ⲟⲩⲉⲓ ⲧⲏⲣⲟⲩ ⲁⲡⲃⲓⲟⲥ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̣ⲥⲉⲉ[ⲓ ⲁⲃ]ⲁⲗ· ϩⲙ̄ ⲡⲃⲓⲟⲥ ⲉⲣⲉⲛⲟⲩ[ⲥ]ⲱⲙ[ⲁ ⲙⲏⲛ] ϩ̣ⲓ̈ϫⲙ̄ ⲡⲕⲁϩ· ⲉⲩⲣ̄ ϩⲩⲡⲏⲣⲉⲧⲓ [ⲙ̄ⲛⲡϣⲁ ⲛ̄ⲧ]ⲏ̣ⲣⲟⲩ ⲛ̄ⲧⲉⲩ· ⲉⲩⲉⲓⲣⲉ ⲙ̄[ⲙⲁⲩ]ⲟ̣ⲩ̣ ⲛ̣̄ⲕ̣ⲟⲓⲛⲱⲛⲟⲥ· ⲁⲛⲟⲩⲙ̄ⲕⲟ[ⲟϩ]· ⲙ̣ⲛ̄ [ⲛ]ⲟ̣ⲩⲇⲓⲱⲅⲙⲟⲥ ⲙⲛ̄ ⲛⲟⲩ[ⲗⲱ]ϫϩ. Translation by Attridge and Pagels, modified. I suggest the word “needs” (ⲛⲡϣⲁ) to fill the lacuna on line 13. This passage has been thought to represent the pneumatics, who remain for the benefit of the psychics. However, I suggest that the reading presented here makes more sense, given that the cosmos is not created for the benefit of the psychics, but rather the pneumatics who need to learn about evil and bring this knowledge back to the Pleroma. Furthermore, in the sentences just before this, we read of those who are entrusted with the service of the church and the benefit of the elect (which can refer to no one else than the psychics), and there is no indication that we are changing subject here.

80

Pagels, “The Demiurge”, 301–324; Thomassen, “Saved by Nature?”, 148; Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 168–183.

81

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 168–183.

82

Dunderberg, Beyond Gnosticism, 172.

83

See Wilken, Christians, 117–125, for an overview of Roman writers who were skeptical toward Christians, with a focus on Celsus, who saw Christians as being in opposition to Roman society and rule (among other reasons because Christians did not worship the state gods, participate in military service, or make sacrifices to the Emperor, all basic tenants of Roman life).

84

Roger S. Bagnall, Egypt in Late Antiquity (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1996), 282–283.

85

For a study on the Christian relationship toward money and wealth, see Peter Brown, The Ransom of the Soul: Afterlife and Wealth in Early Western Christianity (Cambridge M.A.: Harvard University Press, 2015).

86

Origen, Against Celsus VIII.73.

87

The Greek Libanius (ca 315–393), for example, is known for speaking out in favor of showing leniency toward Christians, most likely recognizing the political weight and prowess of this emerging class of citizens. For more on Libanius and especially his relationship to two prominent Christians, John Chrysostom and Basil the Great, see Raffaella Cribiore, The School of Libanius in Late Antique Antioch (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007).

88

Ali Parchami, Hegemonic Peace and Empire: The Pax Romana, Britannica and Americana (New York: Routledge, 2009), 31–58.

89

See Olivier Hekster, Rome and its Empire, AD 193–284 (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2008), especially pp 69–81 for the situation for Christians during this time. Peter Brown has also studied this period and argued that the conversion to Christianity as state religion that followed, did not mean great changes in governance and ideals of power. Brown, Power and Persuasion; Brown, Making of Late Antiquity.

90

Brown, Power and Persuasion, 3–34.

91

Peter Brown, Treasure in Heaven: The Holy Poor in Early Christianity (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2016), 26.

92

Codex VII was copied by the same scribe who copied the second half of Codex XI, which in turn had a second scribe who also worked on Codex I. Desjardins has suggested that Apocalypse of Peter might have affinities to Petrine traditions that Clement was familiar with. Michel Desjardins, “Introduction to VII,3: Apocalypse of Peter”, in Nag Hammadi Codex VII, ed. Birger A. Pearson (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 208.

93

Apocalypse of Peter 72:2, 83:19.

94

For more on the struggles for authority and the different models used during the first four centuries, see von Campenhausen, Ecclesiastical Authority. How established the ecclesiastical structures were in third-century Egypt is hard to determine. Origen’s texts are sometimes used as evidence that the bishop, presbyter, and deacon structure was already firmly in place. See, for example, Francis A. Sullivan, From Apostles to Bishops: The Development of the Episcopacy in the Early Church (New York: The Newman Press, 2001), 171–191. However, Origen’s knowledge of these three offices does not mean that their roles and authority were unchallenged and fixed. Origen himself was ordained as priest, an ordination and authority that some within the Alexandrian community challenged. And the fact that Clement, a generation before, hardly mentions these structures at all, is saying something.

95

For more on this perspective of the early Jesus movement, see Brown, Treasure in Heaven, 1–16.

96

See the Syriac Didascalia Apostolorum and Brown, Treasure in Heaven, 24–27.

97

Origen, Homily on Numbers 22, 4.1–2, Translation from Thomas P. Scheck, Ancient Christian Texts: Origen: Homily on Numbers, ed. Christopher A. Hall (Downers Grove, Illinois: Inter Varsity Press, 2009), 138.

98

Brown, Treasure in Heaven, 27.

99

Didascalia Apostolorum 60. Translation from Hugh Connolly, Didascalia Apostolorum (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1929), 61.

100

Philo, On Abraham 124–130.

101

See, for example, The Shepherd of Hermas 3, 9.7.

102

For the role of bishop in relation to teacher during the third and fourth centuries, see Brown, Treasure in Heaven, 17–35. Peter Brown has also argued that there was a continuation of the Roman ideal of ambition and honor as the empire transitioned from paganism to Christianity, see Brown, Making of Late Antiquity, 27–53.

103

For more on the early critique of the bishops and where the Nag Hammadi texts fit into this debate, see Michael A. Williams, “The Life of Antony and the Domestication of Charismatic Wisdom”, in Charisma and Sacred Biography, ed. M. Williams (Chambersburg, P.A.: American Academy of Religion, 1982), 23–45.

104

Elm, Sons of Hellenism, 1–24; see also Norton, Episcopal Elections.

105

Vita Prima c.27. Translation from Apostolos N. Athanassakis, The Life of Pachomius: (Vita Prima Graeca) (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1975), 33–35. For the Greek text, see Francisci Halkin, Sancti Pachomii Vitae Graecae (Brussels: Société des Bollandistes, 1932), 17.

106

Sterk, Renouncing the World, 1–2.

107

Clement, Stromata VII.3.13.

108

Some had fiery natures which suited them for leadership while others were endowed with a phlegmatic composition leading to calmness and contemplation. These natural compositions should be worked on, because lack of bodily control led to exposure to sickness and weak passions. There were also the melancholic and the sanguine composition. All these four characteristics were associated with the four fluids that made up the human body: blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm, and to the four elements, different planets, and organs. These four fluids belonged to the body, which stood below the soul and intellect. See further David C. Lindberg, The Beginnings of Western Science: The European Scientific Tradition in Philosophical, Religious, and Institutional Context, Prehistory to A.D. 1450 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008), 275–325.

109

See further Brown, Treasure in Heaven, 17–35.

110

See Jonathan Wyn Schofer, The Making of a Sage: A Study in Rabbinic Ethics (Madison, Wisconsin: Wisconsin University Press, 2005).

111

For a discussion of how this system was taken over in early monastic Egypt, and for references to studies on early student-teacher relations in ancient time, see Rubenson, “Early Monasticism”.

112

Barton, Roman Honor. For an article on the violence and forcefulness of the Roman judicial system, see Ramsay MacMullen, “Judicial Savagery in the Roman Empire”, Chiron 16 (2016): 147–166.

113

Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History VI.18, 23.

114

Ambrosius is said to have especially encouraged Origen to write commentaries on holy texts. Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History VI.23.

115

For example, see the discussion by Ismo Dunderberg about Origen’s attitude toward Heracleon’s teachings, which is much more nuanced and moderate than outright rejection. Ismo Dunderberg, “Recognizing the Valentinians—Now and Then”, in The Other Side: Apocryphal Perspectives on Ancient Christian “Orthodoxies”, eds. Tobias Nicklas et al. (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 2017), 49–52.

116

Here we could compare with the rabbinic authority versus the patriarchal authority in late ancient Palestine. Rabbis seem first to have been made up of self-appointed moral experts, a learned elite, without institutionalized power. The rabbis would, however, gain more authority as they gained more followers. Rabbinic schools were created and institutionalized, and ultimately the rabbis took over the authority in Jewish communities from the patriarchs. See David Goodblatt, “The Political and Social History of the Jewish Community in the Land of Israel, c.235–638”, in The Cambridge History of Judaism, vol. 4, Steven T. Katz (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 404–430.

117

Elm, Sons of Hellenism, 1–14.

118

Bagnall, Egypt, 292.

119

Samuel Rubenson, “Monasticism and the Philosophical Heritage”, in The Oxford Handbook of Late Antiquity, ed. S. F. Johnson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 487–512.

120

See for example Desjardins, Sin in Valentinianism, 118–120; Williams, Rethinking, 189–192; Elaine Pagels, “Conflicting Versions”, 35–53.

121

See Brown, Making of Late Antiquity, 27–53 for a discussion of ambition and self- aggrandizing as part of third and fourth century Roman culture. Shenoute, for example, complains of the intellectual retardation of many of the new monastic recruits. See Bagnall, Egypt, 302.

122

See for example the discussion of Shenoute in Timbie, “The State of Research”, esp. 265.

123

The pneumatics are come to earth to “experience the evil things and (so that they) might train themselves in them” (ⲉⲩⲛⲁϫⲓϯⲡⲉ· ⲛ̄ⲛⲓⲡⲉⲧⲑⲁⲩⲟⲩ ⲁⲩⲱ ⲛ̄ⲥⲉⲣ̄ ⲅⲩⲙⲛⲁⲍⲉ· ⲙ̄ⲙⲁⲩ ⲛ̄ϩⲣⲏⲓ̈ ⲛ̄ϩⲏⲧⲟⲩ) (126:32–34).

124

Clement, Stromata VI.10, VII.7; Origen, Against Celsus IV.50.

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