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Why Gnosticism Became a Threat to the Orthodox Christian Church: It was Likeable

by Shirley Paulson, PhD

What’s So Likeable About Gnosticism?

The title of this blog post may strike some as provocative. But the topic of gnosticism wouldn’t have become controversial if it hadn’t once been seen by many as a force for good.

When we hear only one side of an argument, it’s easy to be persuaded, particularly because we don’t know we are being persuaded. We don’t even know there’s another perspective! For much of history, the only preserved perspective was that whatever ‘gnosticism’ was, it was a dangerous heresy opposed to true Christianity. But since the discovery of a substantial trove of ancient texts—unfamiliar to the modern world until the late nineteenth through mid-twentieth centuries—we’ve begun to hear a different side of the gnostic story, one that’s worth listening to.

So what exactly was ‘gnosticism,’ and why did it attract so many followers?

Thanks to the current availability of these texts in modern language translations, even non-scholars can now read them. And it’s clear: there was no organized religion called “Gnosticism” standing in opposition against a unified Christianity. In fact, the label “Gnosticism” was coined in the seventeenth century as a scholarly attempt to categorize a wide variety of spiritual movements—an attempt that doesn’t really hold up today.

What did exist was a diverse range of thought and spiritual inquiry. Many people were drawn to the idea of gnosis—deep, intuitive knowledge of the divine—but not within the bounds of any unified religious organization. In those days, church as we know it today—with creeds and institutional hierarchies—simply didn’t exist.

Martyrdom versus gnosis-seeking

Roman violence was a problem to everyone who was not Roman. Martyrdom was one solution. Seeking gnosis was another. Martyrs believed—or hoped—that their deaths could testify to the authenticity of their faith, and it offered a comfort to the soul. Gnosis-seekers, by contrast, believed—or hoped—that a spiritual knowing of God could offer peace and healing in this life. It was another way to comfort the soul. Both paths aimed toward the heavenly peace they believed Jesus had promised, yet each was expressed through a diversity of creative and thoughtful voices.

People who called themselves ‘gnostics’ drew deeply from their own Hebrew scripture and rabbinic heritage. But they were also often in conversation with neighboring traditions—Greek philosophy, Egyptian cosmology, and more.

One of the most pressing questions, especially under the resurgent influence of Plato and the Neoplatonists, was the problem of evil: If God is good and all-powerful, where does evil come from? Why are there two different creation stories in Genesis? Why was Eve blamed for the sin of all humanity when she wasn’t even present while God gave life instructions to Adam? Why was Adam given authority to name the creatures he didn’t create? Why would a loving God create a world so full of violence? Gnosis-seekers often turned to these questions to elaborate on the Genesis stories and thus supply a gateway to true spiritual knowledge (gnosis).

Myths and revelations

Although they tackled these kinds of questions from a Jewish perspective, mythmaking became a favorite style of writing, enabling them to convey profound insights. To modern ears, unfamiliar with the literary style and strange names and characters, these writings can sound cryptic and obscure. But these authors were sophisticated, and they made use of contemporary thought, experience, and a variety of genres for teaching tools.

Another popular teaching genre came in the form of revelation. These visions from Jesus usually appeared to one or more of his closest students, who believed they knew Jesus not just in the flesh, but beyond it. They trusted in his ongoing guidance toward a deeper understanding of divine reality.

What Jesus revealed to them was beautiful, liberating, and full of peace. It gave them the strength and spiritual authority to resist victimization. But it remained mysterious—beyond the reach of ordinary human perception.

Paul alludes to this kind of experience in his second letter to the Corinthians:

“I know a person in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know; God knows. And I know that such a person… was caught up into Paradise and heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat.”
(2 Corinthians 12:2–4)

Likewise, most gnostic-type revelations were described as hidden or secret—not necessarily to be exclusive, but because their truths could only be understood by those spiritually open to them. The fact that they were written down and preserved suggests they weren’t meant to be hidden forever—just reserved for those prepared to receive them.

Open secrets

From the final paragraph of The Secret Revelation of John, Jesus says to John:

“I have spoken these things to you, so that you may write them down and distribute them in secret to your companion spirits, because this is the mystery of the unmoving race… I will now instruct you further concerning what is to come, because surely I have offered you these things to write them down and to preserve them securely.”

These visions were to be protected, not from everyone, but from those unable or unwilling to seek deeper spiritual understanding. Without that openness, the meaning of these mysteries would remain hidden. But for those seeking answers to life’s pain and confusion, these texts offered salvation, not from sin, necessarily, but from ignorance and suffering. The term “unmoving race” refers to those who, through gnosis, return to their original peaceful likeness to God.

Judging by the sheer volume of these writings discovered in modern times—and the strong efforts by early orthodox Christians to discredit them—it’s safe to assume they were both widespread and influential across the Mediterranean world. Their popularity in antiquity suggests they posed a real threat to the version of Christianity that would eventually become dominant. Yet today, their message of hope, healing, and spiritual insight is helping to reshape our understanding.

What was once dismissed as heresy is now being reexamined as a valuable expression of diverse perspectives on the divine. What was once buried as heresy may yet emerge as wisdom, not to replace, but to enrich the traditions we thought we already understood.