Valentinus

Roman philosopher and Gnostic

• Born: Probably early second century
• Birthplace: Lower Egypt
• Died: c. 165
• Place of death: Cyprus or Rome (now in Italy)

A second century religious genius, Valentinus synthesized concepts drawn from such disparate sources as Christian theology, rabbinic mysticism, Neopythagoreanism, Neoplatonism, Hellenistic mystery religions, and theosophy into an elaborate system of Gnostic thought that attracted large numbers of converts in the patristic period. His influence was so great that the patristic heresiologists singled him out as one of the most formidable enemies of orthodox Christianity.

Early Life

Very little is known of the early life of Valentinus (val-uhn-TI-nuhs), except that he probably was born in Lower Egypt and obtained a Greek education in Alexandria. During his stay in Alexandria, he became a Christian; according to Irenaeus and others, he was taught by Theodas, one of Apostle Paul’s students.

Some authors have suggested that Gnosticism influenced Valentinus even during these early days in Alexandria and that Theodas himself may have preached a Christian gnosis. The Gnostic stress on salvation through a secret gnosis, or transcendental knowledge, must have appealed to Valentinus, whose teachings, to the extent that they can be reconstructed from the scattered information found in writings of the church fathers who came to oppose him (and perhaps also from the Nag Hammadi papyruses), reflect an exceptionally creative mind with a strong aesthetic bent.

Life’s Work

Valentinus apparently taught in Alexandria before going to Rome during the bishopric of Hyginus (c. 136-c. 140). Tertullian states that Valentinus himself almost became bishop of Rome but withdrew in favor of a man who was later martyred (probably Pius I). In fact, Valentinus also withdrew from the Christian community, for he had become a Gnostic; soon, the Church branded him a heretic. Subsequently, Valentinus gained a considerable following—he probably established his own school—and he remained in Rome for another twenty years, after which he may have gone to Cyprus; it is possible that he stayed in Rome until his death after 160.

Valentinus’s move into Gnosticism may have been the result of a desire to go beyond the exclusivist teachings of Christianity and to integrate Jesus Christ’s teachings with contemporary Hellenistic philosophies. Valentinus’s teaching was done in the form of sermons, hymns, and psalms, as well as more formally through writing and lecturing.

Valentinian Gnosticism evolved so rapidly that it is difficult to disentangle the original Valentinian teachings from those of his disciples. Still, the Nag Hammadi works, combined with the heresiologies of the patristic writers, make it possible to describe the outlines of the Valentinian system.

As its core, it had a mythical cosmogony, offered as an explanation of the human predicament. This cosmogony was structured around “aeons”: Everything that exists is an emanation of a perfect, primordially existent aeon, which is the origin and source of being for all subsequent aeons. The term “aeon” in the Valentinian system suggests eternal existence (aei on, “always being”). This means that in terms of temporal sequence there is no difference between the One and its progeny. The difference between them is, instead, ontological: All subsequent aeons are less perfect outpourings of the One’s substance. The One is also called Proarche (First Principle), Propator (Forefather), and Buthos (Primeval Depth). The One is beyond conceptualization and is the storehouse of all perfections. In Buthos there is no difference of gender; it contains all the qualities of masculinity and femininity without distinction.

According to its inscrutable purpose, Buthos brings into being a sequence of secondary aeons. Unlike Buthos, this chain of beings is differentiated into gender pairs, or syzygies, arranged according to ontological perfection (relative perfection of being). Of these fifteen pairs, which together constitute the Pleroma (Fullness or Completion), only the first four and the last have significance in the Valentinian exposition of the ontological corruption of the universe.

The first syzygy is somewhat problematic, since Buthos transcends the qualities of masculinity and femininity yet is paired with Sige (Silence). From this first syzygy emanate Nous (Understanding) and Aletheia (Truth). From their union are produced Logos (Word) and Zoe (Life), and from the union of Logos and Zoe are produced Anthropos (Man) and Ekklesia (Church). Together, these four pairs (or two tetrads) form the Ogdoad (the Eight), from which issue the remaining eleven syzygies and, indeed, all the rest of reality.

According to the Valentinians, disharmony was introduced into reality in the following way. Of all the aeons, it was Nous who was best proportioned to understand the One and who took the greatest pleasure in this contemplation. Nous, in the abundance of his generosity, wished to share his knowledge with the other aeons, and the aeons themselves demonstrated a willingness to seek out and become more directly acquainted with the primacy and fullness of the One. Yet Nous was restrained from prematurely sharing this knowledge, for it was the desire of Buthos to lead the aeons to this awareness gradually, through steady application that might prove their worthiness. Buthos also was aware that the aeons had different capacities and therefore would have to be brought to this knowledge at different rates. The knowledge of Buthos’s purpose was passed down through the successive aeons, and all except the malcontent Sophia (Wisdom) acceded to his will.

Sophia’s desire could not be satisfied by either her station or her mate, Theletos (Will). She craved knowledge beyond her capacity: She wanted to comprehend the perfect wisdom of the Forefather. In her desire to grasp supernatural perfection, Sophia abandoned her station and stretched herself heavenward, nearly losing her distinctive character by being reabsorbed into the plentitude of the One, against its will. Alarmed by the hubris of Sophia, Buthos, in conjunction with Nous, generated Horos (the principle of limitation), who is also called Savior, One-Who-Imposes-Limitation, One-Who-Brings-Back-After-Conflict, and Cross. Horos was generated by Buthos for the purpose of restraining Sophia and stripping her of her presumptuousness. This was accomplished when Horos separated her from her passion and enthumesis (esteem, glory) and rejoined the purged Sophia to Theletos, while casting her passion in the abyss outside the Pleroma.

After the rebelliousness of Sophia was cast out, Buthos and Nous gave rise to another syzygy designed to perfect and strengthen the Pleroma. This syzygy is that of Christ and the Holy Spirit. Christ was sent to the aeons as a teacher to instruct them in the purpose of Buthos, leading them to be satisfied with the knowledge they possess by convincing them that only Nous can comprehend the One in its perfection. The aeon Christ thus was sent as a mediator of consoling knowledge concerning their stations and purpose. The Holy Spirit’s function was to lead the aeons to give thanks for the knowledge revealed by Christ. Through contrition and thankfulness they were all brought into harmony.

The work of Christ, however, was not yet complete. The enthumesis and passion of Sophia had been banished from the Pleroma to smolder, a chaotic, self-consuming power without form and without purpose. The aeon Christ, seeing her state, did not forsake her but instead took pity on her. He extended himself beyond the limit of the Pleroma and imposed a substantial form on her, to give her a definite nature; he withdrew, however, before providing transcendental wisdom. The dim reflection of Sophia was thus given character and definition as Achamoth (Hebrew for “wisdom”). The form Christ provided resulted in a regretful awareness of Achamoth’s severance from the Pleroma and made her aspire to immortality with her limited intelligence. From the confusion of passions that boiled in Achamoth, the matter of the world issued, and from the desire to return to unity with the One, all souls (including that of the Demiurge) sprang into being.

From her own psychic substance, Achamoth formed the Demiurge, but she concealed herself from him. The Demiurge, not recognizing another greater than himself, deluded himself into believing that he was the only creator god, and he immediately began to make corporeal substances and to populate the realm below Horos with all manner of things. It is he who is responsible for the creation of the seven heavens and everything in or under them. All the while he was creating, however, he was unaware that Achamoth was working through him and was adding spiritual substances to the psychic beings (animals) he created. Humans are therefore composites of matter, psyche, and spirit, although the Demiurge is ignorant of their spiritual dimension.

Achamoth, feeling pity and responsibility for the spiritual beings she had generated, decided to bring them to knowledge of the aeons. To give this knowledge to the Demiurge and his creation, she imitated the production of the Christ aeon and contributed a spiritual substance to a body prepared by the Demiurge in ignorance. The resulting composite being was Jesus the Savior. Jesus’ mission thus was primarily a ministry of teaching; his mission was to teach the gnosis of the aeonic hierarchy. His mission will be accomplished when all worthy creations below the Pleroma are brought to perfection in knowledge. Then Achamoth and her perfected children will ascend to places above the Horos. The Demiurge will ascend to the eighth heaven along with those beings of a purely psychic nature, and the purely corporeal humans will be consumed in a final conflagration.

From complicated cosmological speculations such as these, the Valentinians wove a fabric of doctrines that resembled Christianity but that were, in every instance, of a much higher speculative order. Like the traditional Christians, the Valentinians had a distinctive Christology. Whereas the former emphasized the sacrificial death of Jesus as the means of remission of sins, the Valentinians thought that the spirit of Jesus ascended before he could suffer, a belief consistent with their understanding of his aeonic mission of teaching.

Anthropologically, traditional Christianity interpreted all humans as being equally capable of finding salvation in Jesus, since he had died for all. The Valentinians, however, worked out a doctrine of election that in some ways anticipated Calvinist teachings. They believed that the salvation of a given individual depended on whether Achamoth had implanted a bit of spiritual substance, a seed of light, in that individual. Those who are spiritual have the potential (if not certainty) of achieving gnosis and thus being raptured and carried aloft to the Pleroma. The best that other humans may hope for is either a place in the eighth heaven or to be burned as garbage at the end of time.

Ecclesiologically, Valentinians construed the body of Gnostics on earth as a dim reflection of the aeon Ekklesia. Basing their speculation on certain passages in Saint Paul and on obscure rabbinic doctrines, they saw the syzygy of Anthropos and Ekklesia as the Platonic archetype of the relationship that eventually will exist between Achamoth and the pneumatics. In the final rapture, Achamoth will be conjoined to her seeds of light in the nuptial chamber of the Pleroma. At that point, symmetry will be restored to the chain of aeons and the universe will exist in harmony, with the lower syzygies mirroring their higher paradigms and beings of all levels finding perfect satisfaction.

On the basis of this rich and intricate mythology and its resultant theology, the Valentinians taught a form of Christian theosophy that gained large numbers of converts in the second and third centuries. Of all the forms of Gnosticism it attracted the most followers. How such a complicated and seemingly arbitrary religious cosmology could have inspired droves to seek this brand of salvation is puzzling, but there are a few features that most likely made it attractive.

First, it offered a kind of salvation that placed a premium on knowledge and de-emphasized the moral rigor that was typical of the Christianity of the period. This, no doubt, appealed to the classes that Gnosticism attracted: the plebeians and the intellectual elite, who had no strong political or religious alliances but rather identified with their plebeian followers.

Second, although the Valentinians shunned the sacramentalism of many of the other Christian sects, they apparently practiced rituals of purification and made use of hymns and prayers, all of which were designed to culminate in a powerful ecstatic experience in which the individual would achieve spiritual intercourse with Achamoth in her nuptial chamber. In this way, Valentinian Gnosticism offered an experience that at least rivaled the charismatic experiences of the more traditional Christian groups.

Finally, a large part of the appeal of Valentinian theosophy was that it was continuous with other religious phenomena of the time. In that turbulent period when religious curiosity ran rampant and when contact with magicians, astrologers, and itinerant preachers of wisdom was the norm, Valentinian theosophy offered a model of the universe that allowed for the retention of a magical worldview. Unlike traditional Christianity, which was extremely strict in its rejection of alien gods and magic, the Valentinian system was syncretistic. It allowed its adepts to move freely between its sphere of concepts and other systems of theosophy and magic.

Significance

Valentinus had a very large following and probably was the most influential of the Gnostics. There is no doubt that his teaching affected orthodox Christianity. Many Christian theologians were forced to sharpen their rhetorical and theological skills as they undertook to refute the Valentinians, and, as they engaged in this dialogue, they began to formulate explicit orthodox Christian doctrines and creeds. Valentinus, as a representative of Gnosticism, spurred Christians toward the establishment of a canon of inspired Scriptures so that they might be able to avoid syncretism and heresy.

Valentinus was very much a man of the second century in his tendency toward religious syncretism, evidenced by his application of Neoplatonic and Neopythagorean concepts to Christian theology. Thus, Valentinus’s thought was a representative form of the prototheology that produced and encouraged reasoned dialogues and debates in the early years of Christianity.

Bibliography

Jonas, Hans. The Gnostic Religion: The Message of the Alien God and the Beginnings of Christianity. 3d ed. Boston: Beacon Press, 1991. A classic (although somewhat dated) and thorough introduction to the nature of Gnosticism. Useful because it describes the Gnostic categories and discusses various Gnostic systems. Shows how Gnosticism is both an interruption and a continuation of classic Greek thought. Chapter 5 constitutes a helpful treatment of Valentinus’s system. Thorough, multilanguage bibliography.

Lacarrière, Jacques. The Gnostics. Translated from the French by Nina Rootes. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1977. Phenomenological treatment of Gnosticism, but only partly successful since the author regards Gnostics as Promethean heroes rebelling against established religion, and his bias is evident throughout. Valuable as a lively interpretation of the Gnostic mind-set. Chapter 6 deals with Valentinus in some detail. Contains a somewhat quirky bibliography.

Lampe, Peter. From Paul to Valentinus: Christians at Rome in the First Two Centuries. A pathbreaking examination of the earliest Christian churches in Rome from historical, theological, archaeological, and sociological perspectives.

Pagels, Elaine. The Gnostic Gospels. New York: Random House, 1989. Popular treatment, readable and interesting, but unsystematic. The feminist views of the author are evident. Tends to discuss the individualism of Gnostics in a manner inappropriate to the period and to impose twentieth century values on the second century. Valentinus is treated throughout rather than in a separate chapter. No bibliography.

Perkins, Pheme. The Gnostic Dialogue: The Early Church and the Crisis of Gnosticism. New York: Paulist Press, 1980. In part a response and corrective to some extremes in Pagels’s work, this is a scholarly attempt to contextualize Gnosticism in setting of particular scriptural traditions, with research based on texts. Investigates Gnosticism in dialogue with Christianity and other religions. Valentinus is treated throughout. Good selected multilanguage bibliography; especially helpful are the references to the Nag Hammadi, the New Testament, and patristic sources.

Robinson, James M., ed. The Coptic Gnostic Library: A Complete Edition of the Nag Hammadi Codices. Boston: Brill Academic, 2000. A revealing collection of Gnostic scriptures available in English translation. Particularly useful because it contains fragments of second century treatises of probable or certain Gnostic origin such as the Gospel of Truth, the Treatise on Resurrection, the Tripartite Tractate, the Apocalypse of Paul, A Valentinian Exposition, On the Anointing, On Baptism, and On the Eucharist.

Rudolph, Kurt. Gnosis: The Nature and History of Gnosticism. Edited and translated by Robert McLachlan Wilson. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983. A comprehensive treatment by a specialist in Mandaean religion. Valentinus is cited frequently throughout, and the treatment of the Valentinian system is extensive. Extremely sensitive to all sources in all their complexity, though some Marxist bias is evident. Illustrations, photographs, maps, chronological table, and a multilanguage bibliography of original texts and secondary sources.

Williams, Jacqueline A. Biblical Interpretation in the Gnostic Gospel of Truth from Nag Hammadi. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988. Williams sheds light on Valentinus’s impact on religious thought through a close examination of his use of allusion in the Gospel of Truth. A scholarly work based on Williams’s doctoral dissertation.