I still don't have a lot of time to blog, so instead I'm going to re-post (with some modifications & updating) a
comment I made in response to a question about alternative Christianities in the early centuries of the church (e.g. Gnosticism, Docetism, Arianism, etc.) and why "orthodox" Nicene Christianity eventually won out. I've been studying this stuff even more thoroughly in recent seminary classes (especially my "Early Church and Roman Society" class where we're actually reading a lot of the primary texts from way back then), so I have even more insight to this than I did then, though for the most part what I said has simply been confirmed.
Anyway, based on these studies, my feeling is that the prominence or legitimacy of alternative early Christianities is sometimes over exaggerated. I've often heard it presented as if groups like the various types of Gnostics or their collections of books were merely alternate but equally legitimate interpretations of the Jesus tradition - as if the difference between them and what became orthodox Christianity was no more significant than the difference between say, Methodists and Baptists.
In reality however, many of these sects were not just alternate Christianities, but really radically different religious belief systems that merely borrowed certain Christian texts and terminology and combined them with other mystical philosophies or religions. For instance, when I read the
Nag Hammadi texts I am struck by their utter dissimilarity from anything you find in the Hebrew scriptures or the canonical New Testament writings. The closest analogy I can find is the difference between Mormonism and mainstream Christianity these days (though even that's not perfect since even the Mormons are probably closer to mainstream Christianity than most of the Gnostics were). Maybe an even better analogy would be some of the New Age-y cults out there that try to paint Jesus as some type of Higher Consciousness guru or swami, but with almost zero connection to the Jesus of history.
The other point to remember is that many of these early sects are much later developments. While all of the canonical gospels and the letters of Paul, John, and Peter can easily be shown to have been written in the first century, and usually within a generation or two of Jesus' ministry; most of the Gnostic gospels and other non-canonical texts cannot be shown to be any earlier than the mid to late second century (i.e. over 150 after Jesus) and most from he third or fourth century. It is for this reason primarily - i.e. the historical proximity to Jesus and the first apostles - that the canonical writings were preferred by the early church and were listed as such by many early Christian writers.
Of course, groups like the Gnostics, whose theology was so far different from orthodox Christianity as to be a different religion entirely, are somewhat different than early Christian groups like the Arians, Nestorians, or Copts (to name just a few) who were not outside of the mainstream of the Christian church, but who had differing ways of understanding the divinity and humanity of Christ. While I wouldn't say that these differences are unimportant, I would say that the disagreements between these groups were more akin to the denominational differences we have today, than they were to the radical differences between gnostics and Christians.
So why did the Nicene view triumph? I'm not entirely sure. There is the traditional answer, which is that it is the correct view, so the Holy Spirit directed the church to accept it.
Then there is the cynical, DaVinci code type answer, which is that political pressures by Constantine and powerful bishops conspired to suppress alternative views. While there is some truth to the fact that political interests had some influence over the process (especially in regards to the Emperor's desire for uniformity among Christians), this answer also conveniently ignores the facts that 1) Constantine himself preferred Arianism, and 2) that there really weren't any such thing as "politically powerful" bishops at the time of Nicaea, as Christianity had only recently gone from being a persecuted minority religion to being at least permitted (though not yet officially endorsed) by the Edict of Milan.
Personally I take a different view than either of these, which is simply that this is how the church decided things back then, through these sorts of ecumenical councils, and this is what they decided. There was a lot of argument and disagreement but in the end they reached a statement that most, if not all, could agree to. In fact, much of what was agreed on at Nicea (and at later councils like Chalcedon) was a kind of both/and compromise position that did its best to reconcile varying opinions. Since almost all currently existing churches today are descended from those who accepted the creed formulated at Nicaea, that statement is still held in high regard today. Though I suppose if someone wanted to make an argument that the Arians or Nestorians or whomever actually had a better way of looking at the dual nature of Christ than Nicene Creed does, and suggest that we ought to adopt that instead, they could certainly attempt to do so.
Indeed, that's my approach for all of these early "Christianities". I don't just engage them just on the historical level, trying to figure out who believed what, when. I also consider them as "live options" for my own belief. In other words, the question for me is not just whether Gnosticism was or was not an authentic expression of Jesus' teachings, the question is also whether or not Gnosticism is a persuasive view of the world to me. Would I want to be a Gnostic? Do I agree with their beliefs? Likewise, with other Christological views, do I think any of them are more right than the one expressed by the Nicene Creed? Nicaea isn't unquestionably right just because it's what became dominant, but it's not necessarily wrong for that reason either. As much as possible I want to evaluate each of these theologies and worldviews on their own terms and see which make the most sense to me. Speaking personally, when I do that, more often than not I do find myself landing on the "orthodox" option in the end. But I'm also glad that I've arrived there by my own effort and not just because I felt compelled to blindly accept some creed (nor compelled to disbelieve it simply because I can see the historical/political factors that influenced it).
Labels: Gnosticism, history, theology
Julie got back from the Emergent Village gathering in DC this past weekend that met to re-envision the future of EV. After hearing her description of the event I am very hopeful for the future of the Village. You can read various takes from some of the 20 or so participants online, and I'll link to a few of them below, but beyond the actual outcomes of the event, I am especially encouraged simply by who was there. The people who were invited were mostly folks who I know personally or at least know of, and know to be passionate, good-hearted, unassuming missional followers of the way of Jesus. People like Makeesha Fisher, Sarah Notton, Paul Soupiset, Eliacin Rosario-Cruz, Melvin Bray, Troy Bronsink, Laci Scott, Mike Stavlund, Kelly Bean, and my wife, of course, among many others. These are not big-name influential leaders, or well known authors, but they are people who have demonstrated authentic, organic leadership in their own spheres. They are people I trust, and am excited to see as part of this decision making process. I'm also encouraged by their diversity. According to Julie, the participants were about 25% persons of color and 50% female (I don't know the exact figures, but I think that's roughly the same as the make-up of the American populace as a whole). It's good to see both fresh voices and diverse voices in this new generation of Emergent leadership. Given that very few of the original founders/board members/coordinating group of EV were a part of this gathering, perhaps we should even start calling this Emergent Village 2.0 :)
This quote sums up several different conversations that I've had in recent weeks regarding the emerging church or related issues. Each time the conversation turned towards postmodern epistemology and whether we emergents believe in "absolute truth". My first response is to sigh wearily, since I thought that we all kind of talked this topic to death about five years ago, and I had hoped everyone would have gotten the memo by now. Of course, as I continually have to remind myself, there are still plenty of people who are just now stumbling upon the conversation and need to start from square one. It's a good reminder towards empathy and patience on my part.
