The Lost Christianities: The Battles for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew

by Bart D. Ehrman

  Hippolytus was not the only proto-orthodox Christian to find this view untenable. Equally vocal in opposition was Tertullian. Together they raised a number of biblical and logical objections: Why does Scripture say that God sent his son, rather than that he sent himself? How can anyone be his own father? To whom is Jesus speaking when he prays? How can Jesus talk about going to his Father (John 20:17) if he is the Father? And is it really conceivable that God the Father was killed? This last issue became a rallying point for those who opposed the view. They mocked to those who thought the "Father suffered," and coined the term "patripassianist" (father-sufferers) to refer to anyone who subscribed to such a notion.

  The other side, of course, refused to be mocked and pointed out that the alternative was not at all acceptable. Scripture repeatedly affirms there is only one God (e.g., Isa. 44:6,45:18). If Christ is God, he must be that one. If he is a different one, then in fact there are two gods. Whoever thinks so is no longer a monotheist but a dytheist.

  As it turns out, Zephyrinus and Callistus were to lose that debate, as proto-orthodox thinkers came to consider the relationship of God the Father and God the Son to be more complicated than an exact identification. Christ may be equal with Father, but he is not identical with the Father. And that is a big difference. But how could he have equal standing with God, so that he too is God, if there is only one God?

  The theologians who began working on this problem are the ones who developed the traditional doctrines of the Trinity. Not only were Christ and the Father separate persons, both equally divine; there was also the matter of the Spirit, whom Jesus spoke of as "another Comforter" who was to come in his stead (John 14:16-17,16:7-14) and who was seen as the Spirit of God already at the beginning of Genesis, where "the Spirit of God was brooding over the waters" (Gen. 1:2). Scripture passages dealing with Christ, his Father, and the Spirit were carefully examined, combined, amalgamated—all in order to make sense of the trinitarian mystery. And so, as the Scripture affirmed, Christ and the Father were "one" (John 10:30), so that "whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (John 14:9). And yet the Father was "in" Christ just as Christ was "in" the Father (John 14:11), and the Father "sent" Christ just as later he was to "send" the Spirit (John 14:26). Somehow or other there are three beings—not just one and not just two—all of whom are closely related and yet distinct. Equal but not identical.

  How can that work? Earlier proto-orthodox Christians developed models for understanding the Godhead that struck their intellectual descendants as moving in the right direction but completely unnuanced. Ignatius, for example, appears never to have worked out a precise understanding of how Christ could be both divine and human. Possibly he did not have the requisite intellectual gifts, as it is a rather difficult philosophical conundrum. In any event, his own paradoxical formulation would have seemed hopelessly unrefined to later generations of the proto-orthodox:

  For there is one physician, both fleshly and spiritual, born and unborn, God come in the flesh, true life in death, from both Mary and God. first subject to suffering and then beyond suffering, Jesus Christ our Lord. (Ign. Eph. 7:2)

  Somewhat later times saw various attempts to solve the problem, some of them completely acceptable among the proto-orthodox of the moment, only to be condemned as heretical by orthodox theologians in later centuries. The best example comes from the most learned, prolific, and famous theologian of the first three Christian centuries, Origen of Alexandria (185-254 ce). Origen was a true genius, whose capacious learning and inordinate abilities were recognized by a wealthy Christian in Alexandria, Ambrose, who became his patron, providing him with extensive resources to allow him to pursue his theological endeavors. Origen wrote massive commentaries on Scripture, both Old and New Testaments, copious homilies on specific texts, an extensive "apology" defending the faith against its intellectual despisers, antiheretical works against those who espoused false doctrines, and erudite theological treatises dealing with the leading issues of his day. He appears to have written as many as a thousand books—assisted by Ambrose, who supplied him with a small army of stenographers to record his dictated reflections and calligraphers to set them up for publication. Most of these books, regrettably, have been lost or destroyed. Although Origen was the champion of orthodoxy in his own day, he came to be condemned as heretical in later times, and his works were banned. Not surprising for someone trying, for the first time, to work out the mysteries of the universe on a new theological basis.

  Origen's theology was biblically rooted from start to finish. He subscribed to the notion that God was the creator of all things. And he believed that to mean all things, including Christ. The essence of Christ came into being at some point in eternity past. In fact, it came into being when all the intelligent beings of the divine realm came into being—angels, archangels, demons, the devil, human souls. All these creatures of God were originally disembodied minds, created to adore God forever, and yet they were given the free will to choose to do otherwise. Some minds chose to depart from God—for example, the devil and his demons, whose lust for power led to their "fall." Others simply could not sustain the worship of God for eternity; these, too, fell from their divine place and became souls that were placed in human bodies as a discipline and punishment, prior to their redemption. One mind, however, stayed in direct and intensely focused contact with God, from eternity past. So connected with God was this mind that it became one with God. Just as the iron placed in a hot fire eventually takes on all the characteristics of the fire, this one took on all the characteristics of God, became so infused with God's wisdom that it became God's wisdom, so infused with God's word that it became God's word. In a very real sense, then, to all outward appearances and to the depth of its being, this mind was God. This mind then became a soul that took on human flesh and dwelt among us in the form of a human. Christ is the incarnation of this divine being that came into existence in eternity past; Christ is God's Word made flesh; Christ is God, one with the Father, distinct in person but equal in substance, the one through whom God made the world (Origen On First Principles 2:6). But—this is a key point—he is equal with God by the transference of God's being; ultimately, he is subordinate to God and is "less than the Father" (On First Principles 1:3)

  Origen eventually was condemned for this innovative resolution of the relationship of God and Christ when orthodox thinkers in later centuries refined their categories and came to reject any notion of Christ's subordination to God, which necessarily, for them, meant that in his essence he was not equal with God. Origen came to be condemned for other ideas as well, especially his views that souls preexisted and that all creation, including the devil, will ultimately yield to the sovereignty of God and thus be saved.

  If nothing else, Origen shows that in the second and third centuries, not only are there clearly defined boundaries between the proto-orthodox and the "heretics"; there are also some vague boundaries between what counts as orthodox and what does not. The orthodoxy of one age can become the heresy of the next. The Ebionites were arguably the first to learn this theological maxim, as those who represented a very ancient form of Christianity, possibly rooted in the beliefs of Jesus' own Jewish apostles. They had numerous unlucky successors in later ages, advocates of once acceptable views later to be condemned as heretical.

  The Beginnings of the Trinity

  Neither Tertullian nor Hippolytus approached the questions of the nature of Christ as God and man and of the relationship of the divine members of the Godhead with the erudition, nuance, and acumen of Origen. But in some ways, their less daring approaches became more useful to orthodox thinkers of later times. Their opposition to patripassianist understandings (the belief that "the Father suffered") forced them to think in trinitarian terms, of God being distinctively three in expression though one in essence. As Hippolytus puts it, "With respect to the power, God is one; but with respect to the economy [i.e., to how this power expresses itself], the manifestation is triple" {Refutation 8:2). In Tertullian's formul
ation, God is three in degree, not condition; in form, not substance; in aspect, not power (Against Praxeas, 2). Tertullian was the first Latin theologian to use the term Trinity.

  Within the broad contours of proto-orthodoxy, then, one can see development and variety. As time progressed, theologians became more entranced with the mystery of the Trinity and developed a more highly refined vocabulary for dealing with it. But that was long after the major issues had been resolved, of whether Christ was man but not God (Ebionites; Theodotians), God but not man (Marcionites, some Gnostics), or two beings, one man and one God (most Gnostics). The proto-orthodox opted for none of the above. Christ was God and man, yet he was one being, not two.

  Once that was acknowledged, the details still had to be worked out. And they were worked out for centuries. If it were easy, it would not be a mystery. Theologians began to be obsessed with the question of how and in what way Christ could be both human and divine, completely both. Did he have a human soul but a divine spirit? Did he have a divine soul instead of a human soul? Was his body really like everyone else's body? How could God have a body? Was he subordinate to the Father, as in Origen? If he was not subordinate to the Father, why was he the one sent, rather than the other way around? And so on, almost ad infinitum.

  In this earlier period, however, the debates were both more basic and more fundamental. As a result, the alternatives within the proto-orthodox tradition— as opposed to the alternatives that separated the proto-orthodox from everyone else—were less clear and less obvious. All that was to change when the proto-orthodox found themselves to be the last ones standing and were forced then to move forward into the orthodox forms of Christianity of the fourth and fifth centuries.

  Part Three: WINNERS AND LOSERS

  Now that we have examined some of the forged texts of early Christianity (part 1) and observed several groups of early Christians who produced these and other texts (part 2), we are able to consider in greater detail the conflicts that arose among these groups and to reflect on the strategies that proved effective in their struggles for dominance. The outcome of these internecine Christian battles was significant. The group that emerged as victorious and declared itself orthodox determined the shape of Christianity for posterity—determining its internal structure, writing its creeds, and compiling its revered texts into a sacred canon of Scripture. Had things turned out otherwise, not just the Christian Church but all of history would have been quite different. Before addressing the specifics of these internal disputes, I should say a word about such conflicts more generally.

  By the second century, of course, there was already a long history of quarrels in the Christian tradition. Jesus himself had enemies, and they tended to be those with whom he had a good deal in common. Chief among his opponents during his public ministry were Pharisees, a group of Jews who insisted on keeping God's Law fully and completely. Pharisees were not professional hypocrites, as is sometimes made out in later Christian tradition. They were experts in the laws God had given to Moses—laws that God gave precisely in order to be followed—who believed these laws should be observed.' Pharisees developed a set of traditions that assisted them in keeping the laws. If Sabbath is to be kept holy, and work is therefore not to be done on Sabbath, then one needs to determine what it is that constitutes work so as to avoid doing it. If tithes are to be given to the priests in the Temple, one needs to determine what is to be tithed and how a person can be certain that it has been tithed. And so on.

  Pharisees had serious disputes among themselves concerning how to interpret and implement these laws. Jesus had disputes with them as well. Some of the things said in the heat of the battle were not kind. Within the Christian tradition, the Pharisees came to be known as "whitewashed sepulchres" (Matt. 23:27)—clean and attractive on the outside but filled with rotting flesh within. They were hypocrites, who strained a gnat out of their drink but then swallowed a camel (Matt. 23:24). No doubt these Christian slurs were reciprocated by the Pharisees, who were, after all, doing the best they could to understand and practice what God wanted. In religious conflict, it is always a matter of give and take. Even so, it should not be imagined that Jesus opposed the Pharisaic interpretations because they stood so far apart on most issues. In fact, they were extremely close. Hence the emotional rhetoric. We tend to argue most frequently and fervently with those closest to us.

  When we move the calendar forward twenty years to Jesus' outspoken apostle, Paul, we find a comparable situation, only now the "internal" conflicts involve battles within the Christian community, founded after Jesus' death. Every church that Paul established appears to have become embroiled in turmoil. His letters were meant to solve the problems. Throughout these letters we find harsh and forthright opposition to false teachers. But it is important to note that these are Christian false teachers, who are in Paul's churches. Sometimes readers neglect to consider the implication: These "false" teachers understand themselves to be continuing on in the same Christian tradition as Paul, bringing out the implications of the gospel message, providing a fuller account of what Paul had taught while passing through town making converts. Paul, however, sees them as standing over and against his gospel message, and so he attacks them with a vehemence unparalleled in his comments about pagans or Jews.

  Nowhere can this seen more clearly than in the letter to the Galatians. Paul established churches in this central region of Asia Minor, based on his gospel that the death and resurrection of Jesus are God's way of salvation to all people, Jew and Gentile. He left then to take the mission elsewhere, and other Christian missionaries arrived. They evidently attempted to "correct" some of the things Paul had taught and added some important information. In particular, they insisted that to be full members of the people of the Jewish God, converts needed to become Jewish. For many of their hearers, this view made considerable sense: They were worshiping the God of the Jews, who gave the Jewish Law, and who ordered all of his people—insiders as well as outsiders—to keep his commandments, including the commandment of circumcision for the men. Surely the sovereign Lord of all would not change his mind concerning how his people were to relate to him, especially when he called the agreement that he made with the Jewish ancestors an "eternal" covenant. To worship this God and believe in his Messiah, argued the Christian missionaries who arrived in Paul's wake, followers of Jesus need to join his people in the ways he set forth in his Scriptures.

  These "opponents" had a good deal in common with Paul. They worshiped the God of the Jews. They saw Jesus as the Messiah sent from God to the Jews. They believed that Jesus' death and resurrection were part of God's plan for salvation. They believed this salvation was a fulfillment of the promises found in Scripture. And they believed it applied to all people, Jew and Gentile.

  So similar. But they differed on a key point: whether Gentiles were to become Jews in order to be "Christians." The difference was enough to infuriate Paul. His letter to the Galatians seethes with white-hot anger. His opponents are false teachers who stand under God's curse. They have "bewitched" their hearers. Those who follow their instruction will lose their salvation. Paul hopes that when they themselves are circumcised the knife slips and they castrate themselves (Gal. 1:6-9; 3:1-5; 5:2, 12). One can only wonder what they may have said in return.

  The tradition of such vitriolic attacks was to continue past Paul into other writings that eventually became part of the New Testament and on into the second and third centuries, as Christians argued against those with whom they had the most in common, whom they could recognize as almost, but not quite, their fellow Christians. These arguments often focused on which beliefs to affirm and which practices to follow. Every side understood that its views were right. And they believed that being right mattered—not just for life on earth but also for rewards in heaven. The losers of these battles would pay an eternal price. And so the fights were hard and drawn out. When they ended, the winners chose which records of the affair to keep and decided how to tell the history of the conflict. Only in
modern times have the voices of the losers begun to be heard with any kind of clarity.

  Chapter Eight: The Quest for Orthodoxy

  There was a time, not so long ago, when

  We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.

  We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father. Through him all things were made. For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven: By the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary and was made man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate; he suffered death and was buried. On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures; he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.

  We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son. With the Father and the Son he is worshiped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets. We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church. We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. We look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.