The Gnosticizing of Evangelicalism
As the Nag Hammadi Library of gnostic writings began to be made available to scholars in both editions and translations, the Dutch scholar, W. C. Van Unnik, surveyed a handful of these writings and compared them to the New Testament texts. He noted, “Nobody who is to any extent at home with the currents and undercurrents of our spiritual life today is likely to assent to this description of Gnosticism. Such widely separated movements as theosophy and anthroposophy have been instanced—and with every justification—as modern forms of Gnosticism. Time and again one comes across similar ways of interpreting Christianity—for example, among the Rosicrucians who, just like the ancient Gnostics, give out their interpretation as the real ‘truth’ of Christianity.” (W. C. van Unnik, Newly Discovered Gnostic Writings: A Preliminary Survey of the Nag-Hammadi Find, Studies in Biblical Theology 30 [Naperville, IL: Allenson, 1960], 89.)
I am, however, not so sure Christianity has not, after all, suffered from a gnosticizing influence throughout its centuries. And I am becoming more and more convinced that American evangelicalism—in almost all of its denominational (and non-denominational) forms—has suffered both bruises and lacerations at the hands of this phantom philosophy. After several years of living and breathing the air of American evangelicalism, experiencing firsthand both the smog and the fresh ocean breezes, having drunk from both the pure spring waters and the cracked cisterns of our tradition, having eaten the bread made from both the ground wheat and crushed tares of our living and departed saints, I have become increasingly concerned about the influence of essentially gnostic ideas on Christian truth.
I have developed an unscientific sense that gnosticization of Christianity is a constant threat. It is not, as was once believed, a challenge of the second and third centuries that was overcome by the institutionalization of the church, the formation of the canon of Scripture, and a concretizing of a common creed. Rather, all of these things necessitate human interpretation, which opens the door to countless presuppositions and preunderstandings. I have come to believe that the delicate balance—nay, the excruciatingly painful tension—that marks the orthodox doctrine of the incarnation as well as its implications for an incarnational theology and worldview, is simply too difficult for most humans to sustain without being pulled or pushed to one pole or the other. That Jesus Christ is both God and man, that the Bible is both divine and human, that salvation is both physical and spiritual, that the kingdom is both heavenly and earthly—the balance of such statements are far too easy to disrupt when humans begin to interpret and apply them in the twisted chaos of both the psychological and cosmic realities of this present world. Worldviews constantly collide with the Christian conundrum and confront the incarnational irreconcilables with demands for modification, reinterpretation, and reform. Thus, I believe the gnosticizing of Christianity seen in the early centuries of the church is a phenomenon that we can detect throughout church history. And it is a challenge that threatens to distort and destroy evangelical theology today.
When I say that evangelicalism is suffering from gnosticization, I do not mean that some specific form of Gnosticism or a Gnostic system—ancient or modern—is directly exercising influence on the thinking of modern Christians. Rather, evangelicals have long ridiculed many of the extreme expressions of classic Gnosticism—the distinction between the unknown Father and the unknowing creator god; the numerous emanations from the Father, the fall of Sophia, the creation of evil matter, the complex revisions of orthodox Christian truth, and so forth. These errors are easy to avoid, and evangelicals have remained essentially orthodox in their avoidance of Gnostic heresy. Furthermore, I do not mean that evangelicals have become Gnostics. I do not believe the gnosticization of evangelicalism means that evangelicalism has ceased to be fundamentally and authentically Christian. The effect of gnosticizing has not caused evangelicalism to fall into heresy. It has, rather, maintained a classically catholic and orthodox identity.
What I actually mean by this assertion is that, like some sectors of the ancient church in the second century, evangelicalism has reinterpreted Christian truth—or adopted others’ reinterpretations—that diverge from a classic incarnational theology. That is, contemporary evangelicalism has fallen into the pattern of trying to relieve the incarnational tension and has, to a large degree, opted for the same kind of spiritualizing, other-worldly, non-material philosophical direction as the ancient Gnostics.
What does this look like? Many evangelicals fail to maintain a doctrine of Scripture that takes seriously both its fully human and fully divine qualities. We have created a view of humanity more in line with a body-spirit dualism in which the “true me” is entrapped in a body, regarding God’s physical creation as a mere “shell” that needs to be shed. We have spiritualized the ordinances, stripping them of their sacramental power and relegating them to mere symbols and memorials of spiritual truths. We have severed the spiritual church from the physical church, the universal from the local body of Christ, and have made membership in one (the spiritual) possible without membership in the other (the physical). We have put up with a dichotomizing between the spiritual, personal experience of salvation by an invisible faith and the material, physical manifestation of faith through acts of love, manifested in a radical division between justification and sanctification. We have tolerated extreme expressions of the Spirit working directly with individuals outside the physical, institutional community of Christ, allowing many radical departures from classic Christian orthodoxy by means of special “movements” of the Spirit or new revelations. We have opted for a spiritualized and personalized eschatology that de-emphasizes the redemption of this physical creation through history, and even premillennialists have suggested that God’s plan for this world includes its absolute destruction rather than transformation and resurrection.
Sadly, this already long list could continue.
What is the solution to the gnosticizing of evangelicalism? I believe the only lasting solution is a rigorous christocentric theology that continually checks and corrects biblical interpretation, dogmatic systems, and practical applications against the standard of an authentically incarnational christology.

7 comments:
I was contemplating some of the spirit/body dichotomy when reading Augustine recently. Do you think Augustine might have introduced some of this or am I reading Augustine wrong? When Augustine was writing about the pleasures of God he described them as “pleasanter than any pleasure but not to flesh and blood, brighter than all light yet more inward than any secret recess.” If God is invisible, and His pleasures are often thought of as inward, not physical, is it not natural then to value the invisible over the visible?
What is a recovery to this? Do we start talking about the good in physical pleasures of food, sex, wine, and exercise or do we attempt to wed the two more closely (i.e., speak in sacramental terms)? I’m interested in correcting my thinking, but with more questions than answers!
Augustine sometimes sounds like this, doesn't he? In his work, "On the care of the dead," he is quite clear that body and soul make up the person and that experience of God in full salvation is not possible apart from an embodied existence, but sometimes the way he talks elsewhere sounds a bit off. I am particularly bothered by an amillennial eschatology which, according to Irenaeus, seems to have come about as a result of the gnosticization of orthodox eschatology. Certainly Augustine would be guilty of this, though he's much softer on this than later Amillennialists.
Asking questions is the answer. (That doesn't make sense, does it?). I think the answer is a rigorous christocentric theology, which affirms an incarnational worldview and sees reality through this lens. This can apply to all areas of theology, and opens up new areas of exploration.
Is your incarnational approach different than a sacramental approach? or is "incarnational" the evangelical-friendly way to see life as sacramental? :)
Really though, I found A.W. Tozer's instruction to see all life sacramentally ("the sacrament of living" I believe he called it) a challenge and also a path to start to link daily life to theology. Is "incarnational" more intentional? Do you mean by incarnational more the believer's action in the world rather than a passive interpretation in a sacramental worldview? Or am I seeing a difference were none exists?
We may be using "incarnational" differently. My definition includes sacramentalism, but it is much broader than that.
By a rigorous Christocentric theology, I mean to render our theology consistent with an incarnational worldview---all things on heaven and earth united in the God-Man, Jesus Christ.
Such a theology would necessitate a sacramental view of life, the church, the ordinances, etc. but it involves much more. I think you can best understand my approach by actually trying it out. For example, what would a christological ecclesiology look like? Can we have a "body of Christ" that is purely spiritual? Is it incarnationally correct to talk about being a member of the spiritual, invisible church without this being manifested through membership in a local, visible church? I'm suggesting that the Chalcedonian language of unity and distinction might be applied to all areas of theology---that is, the spiritual church and the physical church are united "without division, without separation, without mixture, without confusion." The point of dialogue here would be to explore how far this kind of methodology can be pressed before the christological analogy falls apart. But I think this is worth discussing.
And I think this kind of methodology will by its very nature prevent the gnosticizing of theology.
Good piece, Mike. If I am understanding you right, by "gnosticizing" you are basically saying "spiritualization." If so, the tendency to put the focus on the spiritual and not on the physical aspects of Jesus and Christian practice in evangelicalism makes sense. Maybe that is why some have "jumped ship" in favor of Catholicism and Orthodox expressions that appeal to the senses as well as to the spiritual, but that's just a guess.
Markus:
I think you're right about some people's motives for going to a catholic tradition---or at least a more sensoral tradiiton within Protestantism. But probably most have not thought about it at this level. Some just like a liturgical worship because it's different than what they're used to and we live in a culture that is easily bored with the usual.
Paul dealt with this issue at Corinth. The Corinthian church had been captured by a false teaching that brought it wealth, success and influence. Oddly, the false, Gnostic spirituality being taught was based on popular, Greek wisdom and had produced worldly success. But Paul saw through the charade and called the Corinthians back to ordinary faithfulness that stood in opposition to the false wisdom of Greek culture issuing from the academy. What the successful Corinthians called wisdom, Paul called foolishness.
The Gnostic influence was not merely a function of Greek culture, but of Greek philosophy -- the academy. Thus the Gnostic influence on Christianity has been academic.
For more on this, see my commentaries on Corinthians: Arsy Varsy -- Reclaiming the Gospel in First Corinthians, and Varsy Arsy -- Proclaiming the Gospel in Second Corinthians at www.pilgrim-platform.org
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