Tertullian: What started as a small joke on my part

Tiassa

Let us not launch the boat ...
Valued Senior Member
In advance of a slightly more serious consideration, I wanted to make a rather random comment that comes from reading through the opening pages of Elaine Pagels' The Gnostic Gospels. Writing of the texts discovered at Nag Hammadi:
The first to investigate the gnostics were their orthodox contemporaries. Attempting to prove that gnosticism was essentially non-Christian, they traced its origins to Greek philosophy, astrology, mystery religions, magic, and even Indian sources. Often they emphasized--and satirized--the bizarre elements that appear in some forms of gnostic mythology. Tertullian ridiculed the gnostics for creating elaborate cosmologies, with multi-storied heavens like apartment houses, "with room piled on room, and assigned to each god by just as many stairways as there are heresies: The universe has been turned into rooms for rent!" (Pagels, xxix)
The Tertullian quote comes from Chapter 7 of Adversis Valentinianos--"Against the Valentinians".

Now, elaborate cosmologies aside--as some stunning cosmologies have come from the Christian era--and although Tertullian lived and worked before Nicaea, it seems that the Gospel of John was known in Tertullian's day.
"Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way where I am going." (John, 14.1-4, RSV)
Time-share? Purchase outright? What currency, the soul? For what is it exchanged?

And you know, if you kick around on a search engine long enough, you eventually find something that's accidentally close to what you're looking for. I mean, I only ever hear, "In my father's house are many rooms," at funerals. At any rate, I came across a Bible Study Manual, and let me here forewarn unbelievers that the page is a bit difficult to follow. Nonetheless, it helps me toward the point by noting 2 Corinthians 5.1, which, being part of the Pauline Evangelism, should also have been known to Tertullian:
For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. (RSV)
All of this leads me to wonder: What is Tertullian referring to? It would seem to me that rooms for rent is well-established in what would become the canonical Bible--notably in writings that should have been available to Tertullian at the time.

This lends toward an issue I watch for as I come across it (let that say whatever it will). I have argued in the past at Sciforums that Athanasius, in winning his debate against Arius at Nicaea, contributed toward the cementing of a heresy--docetism--at the core of the Christian tradition which has led us to the present.° We might look again to Pagels, who notes:
Contemporary Christianity, diverse and complex as we find it, actually may show more unanimity than the Christian churches of the first and second centuries. For nearly all Christians since that time, Catholics, Protestants, or Orthodox, have shared three basic premises. First, they accept the canon of the New Testament; second, they confess the apostolic creed; and third, they affirm specific forms of church institution. But every one of these--the canon of Scripture, the creed, and the institutional structure--emerged in its present form only toward the end of the second century. (xxii - xxiii)
Errors in logic, left uncorrected, will repeat themselves in future considerations. So I've always wondered about the contradictory aspects of the Christian heritage, how each facet can be equally authoritative yet not create a logical conflict. Look around for atheism websites; they're absolutely littered with these issues when examining Christianity.

And so when I look at Tertullian, I wonder about his place in the Christian heritage. What is the range of his effect? For as the Catholic Encyclopedia notes:
. . . . A pagan until middle life, he had shared the pagan prejudices against Christianity , and had indulged like others in shameful pleasures. His conversion was not later than the year 197, and may have been earlier. He embraced the Faith with all the ardour of his impetuous nature . . . .

. . . . These points are all urged with infinite wit and pungency. The faults are obvious. The effect on the pagans may have been rather to irritate than to convince. The very brevity results in obscurity. But every lover of eloquence, and there were many in those days, will have relished with the pleasure of an epicure the feast of ingenious pleading and recondite learning. The rapier thrusts are so swift, we can hardly realize their deadliness before they are renewed in showers, with sometimes a blow as of a bludgeon to vary the effect. The style is compressed like that of Tacitus, but the metrical closes are observed with care, against the rule of Tacitus; and that wonderful maker of phrases is outdone by his Christian successor in gemlike sentences which will be quoted while the world lasts . . . .
What does it say that works of faith with obvious faults, that likely irritated the intended audience instead of educated or convinced, and bears influence based on their essential viciousness? Despite all else, the Catholic Encyclopedia also states:
Two or three years later (about 200) Tertullian assaulted heresy in a treatise even more brilliant, which, unlike the "Apologeticus", is not for his own day only but for all time. It is called "Liber de praescriptione haereticorum".
That brilliance, incidentally, is available online.

Impetuous, erroneous, irritating, vicious? Are these the aspects of influence Tertullian contributes to the Christian heritage?

I guess I just wonder--inasmuch as academics take Tertullian seriously, can that academic legitimacy as an historical documentation be extended to apply contextually to common faith, either in history or the present; and furthermore, what would legitimacy in the context of faith imply about the nature of the faith?

Can history be separated from the contemporary condition? Is a faith legitimate in its identity politic (label) if that faith discounts history? For, while ideological evolution has occurred over time, it's rather difficult to document because at any one time it seems to serve the faith better if such an examination is not made.

At any rate, I guess there was more of a topic there than I thought. Nonetheless, it's rather a small point in and of itself.

And now, for something completely different--the notes.

Notes:

° docetism, Christian heritage - See Sciforums, "The Crucifixion was a Fraud," for an example of that old argument, which comes up in the course of that topic.

Works Cited:

• Chapman, John. "Tertullian." Catholic Encyclopedia, 1912. See http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/14520c.htm
• Pagels, Elaine. The Gnostic Gospels. New York: Vintage, 1989.
• University of Virginia. The Holy Bible (RSV). See http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/rsv.browse.html

See Also:

• Kysar, Robert. "The Gospel of John." Anchor Bible Dictionary, v. 3. See http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/john.html
• Tertullian. Against the Valentinians. See http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/tertullian14.html
• Tertullian. The Prescription Against Heretics. See http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/tertullian11.html
• Winkleman, Tom (?) "Heavenbound: Believers Go To Heaven When They Die." Bible Study Manuals. See http://www.biblestudymanuals.net/heavenboundtc.htm
 
hmmmmmmm.... yes.... lol I have no idea what you are asking lol. Some things I would agree with like "it's rather difficult to document because at any one time it seems to serve the faith better if such an examination is not made."
And, in my opinion, "Is a faith legitimate in its identity politic (label) if that faith discounts history?" No
 
It was originally a silly point about Tertullian mocking an idea that finds its roots in materials available to him that would become part of the canonized New Testament. It's a minor irony, all things considered, but somewhere in there it occurred to me that the situation reflects a trend I've noted elsewhere in the history. It's not a particularly organized topic post, is it?

:cool:
 
tiassa said:
It was originally a silly point about Tertullian mocking an idea that finds its roots in materials available to him that would become part of the canonized New Testament. It's a minor irony, all things considered, but somewhere in there it occurred to me that the situation reflects a trend I've noted elsewhere in the history. It's not a particularly organized topic post, is it?

:cool:
Hi Tiassa,

Tell me if I understand you correctly. You find the similarity between the thorn in Tertullian's side and the subsequent Johannine-Paulian theology, apparently similar to what he seemed to have rejected, a little more than ironic.

But isn't the "rooms for rent" analogy, though interesting, just a little contrived?

I mean, Tertullian was finding fault with a neo-pagan theology that had as many gods as there were heavens - as many destinations as there were ways to reach them. It diluted and cheapened the message of the Gospel to a point where it became meaningless. True, he might have overreacted and thrown parts of the baby out with the bathwater - parts that might have climbed back in after the storm in the bathtub had subsided. But that doesn't taint what had been purged.

You might have a problem with this kind of glossing over of history, but that is how any kind of doctrine - religious or scientific - gets established. Extremes duke it out and somewhere in the process they become golden means. Is that maybe the trend you noticed elsewhere? All eventual "truths" crystallize out of such a process of purification and tempering.

The "House of the Lord" was a well-understood concept from long before the gnostics or the gospels. Its physical properties were a little less formalized, but still understood by the metaphor of the temple. Cosmology had very little to do with it - the "heavens" were of only circumstantial significance. What mattered was that God was Lord of it, and that it was a part of His kingdom. These rooms were not for rent - they were free - but not cheap, as the saying goes...
 
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But isn't the "rooms for rent" analogy, though interesting, just a little contrived?

I mean, Tertullian was finding fault with a neo-pagan theology that had as many gods as there were heavens - as many destinations as there were ways to reach them. It diluted and cheapened the message of the Gospel to a point where it became meaningless. True, he might have overreacted and thrown parts of the baby out with the bathwater - parts that might have climbed back in after the storm in the bathtub had subsided. But that doesn't taint what had been purged.
It did start out as a small joke. But in assembling points of relevance to share the joke, the issue was just staring me in the face.

Part of the irony is that the point actually reads to me like something I would hear if such basic theological issues were given attention by right-wing radio hosts. Tertullian obviously runs into the problem of declaring one truth a Real Truth; in his position in the debate, it would seem necessary to couple the claim of the existence of a Real Truth with knowledge or possession of that Real Truth. But, as God works in mysterious ways, one person's Truth may prove irrelevant to another person's Reality. In essence--a valid consideration, as these early Christian issues nitpicked essential and fundamental issues of perspective--Tertullian is also arguing against something necessary to Christian faith.

Start with a simple question: Is any one person of Christian faith identical to the next? What of people of faith in history? Tertullian is arguing a cosmetic difference at most--an issue of labels. Is the man who faced the lions identical to the man who prayed to face the lions as the man who came after the lions as the pregnant single woman in America today? The obvious answer is no. There are already as many stairways to heaven as God has offered to His creations. (This metaphysical issue is also reflected in Muhammad's notion that the Quran was a revelation intended for Arabs.)

And while we might note orgies or barbaric sacrifice, or some-such idiocy among the heretics, those acts can hardly be construed to represent all of the heretics, nor is there much discussion of oddball savageries in any discussion of the Valentinians that I'm finding. Of "Valentinus and Valentinians," the Catholic Encyclopedia notes that Tertullian and Irenaeus both considered Valentinus the author of The Gospel of Truth (links to the text can be found here.) Beyond that, it's hard to tell where Tertullian is drawing his example, as nothing particularly leaps up and grabs me, but I'll read through it again, and see what else I can find. Of course, there is the scarcity of the Valentinian record.

We might also consider that Tertullian is arguing in a very superficial form. It is well enough for him to tell readers what they ought to think, but can either of us find, among the Valentinian record, what in the world Tertullian is referring to?

Which brings us, in rather incomplete fashion, to considerations of the historical issue:
You might have a problem with this kind of glossing over of history, but that is how any kind of doctrine - religious or scientific - gets established.
In my context, this is part of the problem with religious movements. However, looking back to your post:
Extremes duke it out and somewhere in the process they become golden means. Is that maybe the trend you noticed elsewhere? All eventual "truths" crystallize out of such a process of purification and tempering.
I accept the abstract description, but contest any practical application. There was a funny bit that I picked up about fourth-hand, through, actually, a book about George W. Bush, that described Al Gore discussing theology in an interview. The intention of that part of the book, I think, was to compare Al Gore's invocation of obscure but fundamentally-important ideas throughout religious development to Bush's odd evangelical conversion. But the Gore description--independent of the negative Bush comparison--offered an interesting consideration. Even I had to go look up a couple of the names he rattled off, and if someone scripted those for him during the interview, that person deserves a raise. I'm hardly a trained theologian, but I know I spend more time examining the history and heritage of Christianity than what I see as the average of faith around me. Perhaps outside my sphere of witness, people are more considerate of such issues as the foundations of their conscience, but most folks I know who call themselves Christian wouldn't know Tertullian from Charles Manson.

There are many ideas among common Christianity which find their roots in, for instance, mysticism. "Loving God," an all-forgiving, all-redeeming God is merely a watered-down mystical concept intended to illustrate a human lack of comprehension of God's mysterious ways. Listen to those inclined to talk about the Devil or Satan for a while--where in the world are they getting this stuff? Some of it comes from comedies written for popular theater in centuries past.

That's where the issue of how treatment of history comes in. Academic scholars give Tertullian credibility because the record exists. What, specifically, it says, is subject to some debate, and that's where questions regarding the relationship between faith and history come in.

First, if we consider that Tertullian at least frames the debate, that much can be said about the record of his writings. But if we look at stairways and gods, the condition isn't resolved simply by orthodoxy. So what weight does Tertullian bear in terms of faith?

Is argumentation acknowledged to be possibly irritating and even vicious, brought from a faith acknowledged to be impetuous really a substantial tool in contemporary faith?

Yet the flip-side of that is the influence of such classics. An examination of classic Catholic theology and metaphysics indicates that these seemingly conflicting issues (e.g. Tertullian/Pauline-Johanine, or Athanasius at Nicaea) remain in play while other ideas are built from their foundations.

An error in any system will repeat itself in future generations. When I was a kid, my father was trying to teach me fundamental concepts of steering a yacht. Sure, it seems insignificant, one degree or less, but over (X) miles you can be (Y) far off course. (I forget the numbers, specifically.) If accounting screws up and one of the numbers is wrong, all of the numbers in the annual report that contain that number will be wrong. Any developments made from that data will be erroneous.

What of philosophy or theology? What of faith? We might look back to the second Pagels quote in the topic post: Contemporary Christianity, diverse and complex as we find it, actually may show more unanimity than the Christian churches of the first and second centuries.

The canon, the creed, the idea of institution. Are these founding contributors to faith in conflict with themselves or each other? It would seem so. Is Christian faith a contiguous heritage and experience, or are contemporary Christians completely isolated from Christ by the evolution of faith through history? I'm not going to stand on it outright, but the tendency is to view the Christian heritage as a contiguous experience.

To put it in a simplified, modern context, who has the time to care? I can think of a few warring countries in Africa that would be better served by arguing about anything other than what they are. But in modern America, what Christian really has time? In an economy that often demands two parents with careers or, at least, jobs, outside the home, after feeding the kids, getting them to school, and paying the bills, who has time to worry about how we got from Jesus' lips to the preacher's?

One of the odd benefits of a classical parochial education is that the standard materials to learn by were, indeed, straight out of history. For all the problems of the old school, one of the things that's gone by the wayside in the modern day is the idea of a "well-rounded" education. These days it's specialization, to the point that in the 90s folks were arguing voc/tech for junior high students. Call me crazy, but in the 1980s, that sort of educational determinism was "Commie," so it seems odd to me.

But really, especially in post-postmodern, post-Christian America, there seems to be a divorce between the currents of "then" and the faith of "now." If we stop and think about the notion that the film Dogma, with all of its exploitative theological liberties, might actually have contributed to an increase in knowledge and awareness of religious ideas among a fair portion of its audience, how does such an idea cast the state of religious faith in America?

Sure, it's a small sample, but I would have trouble imagining that you're not aware of America's simplistic spiritual malaise. What of our multibillion dollar televangelism industry? Enough people believe in those versions of Christianity to keep the industry afloat. Christian idealism is at the heart of the rush of state governments to prevent people from making spiritual and legal commitments of their love for each other. A gay bishop is of interest to enough people in how many countries to cause how many problems and get how many headlines? And here in America? "Is the church going to split over Bishop Robinson's elevation?" You've got to be kidding me. This is actually a question to begin with? This matters to who? And why?

And it's all symptomatic of the immediacy of faith, and that immediacy is symptomatic of a lack of awareness of history. There are errors in the system, and the present executors are not doing a whole lot about resolving them. Hence they swirl around arguing about homosexuals, single parents, school textbooks, Marilyn Manson, sex on TV, the dangers of other religions, ad nauseam.

Which is sort of why I asked, Can history be separated from the contemporary condition? and, Is a faith legitimate in its identity politic (label) if that faith discounts history?

Make what seems a random change of subject: Are people naturally good or naturally evil? or some similar examination. Issues of original sin notwithstanding, most folks don't wake up with a list of people to hurt today, a list of sins to commit, a list of wrongs to undertake. Most people don't think of themselves to be evil, and of those who do, only a few take comfort in that evil. Rather, most of those who think of themselves as evil or bad seek some way to be good.

I don't think a Christian complaining about homosexuals, or library books, or otherwise seeking to mix faith with public policy wakes up each day celebrating their horrible ambitions. At some point, I must accept that they really do believe that they're doing something good.

But if I call that person twisted, or even simply point out that I consider their priorities askew, on what basis can I criticize faith?

Well, if "Christian" connects all the way back to Christ, I think history comes into play. The "Good News" seems to involve justifying and even advocating a lot of Bad News, and if I'm angry at the Christian homophobes, or the Christian misogynists, or whatever aspect of negativity I perceive in the general manifestation of Christ's love, I ought to at least try to figure out why I'm angry at it and where the object of my disgust comes from. It seems more productive, in a practical consideration, than automatically demanding an eye for an eye.

And more often than not, it's just well-intended people recycling some bastardized filth mutated through generations from what was a dubious proposition to begin with. These well-intended but misbehaving folks don't even have to be aware of the history. In fact, it is better for the standing of their personal integrity if they're entirely ignorant of such things.

So I tend to think that Christian faith, in general, would be served if the faithful in general were more inclined to include the history of their faith in their deeper reflections on faith.

I know it's a long, rambling response, but if I was a better student in college, something like this would have become a central question of my study. People are wrapped up in and painted with history, but don't seem to know it. In my culture, one of the broadest, most common connections between large numbers of people seem to be those pillars of Christian faith noted by Pagels--canon, creed, church--which provides perhaps greater cohesion in the modern day than the Christian founders knew among the faithful. And while we know that Christians are as diverse as any other portion of society--it's all in what you choose to examine about each individual--what of the bases for common identity? If there exists within that structure that leads to common cause certain errors which seem to defy the mission, do those errors need to be corrected?

Is something like the BS factor of Tertullian or Irenaeus or Augustine or Anselm or Aquinas or ....

At any rate, are the conflicting and complicating factors of the history of the faith--of its heritage--still applicable in any way in modern Chrsitianity, or is the modern faith utterly divorced from Christ and the Apostolic mission?
 
Historians have a hard time putting all the pieces of a puzzle together. To make up for those missing pieces they suppose, guess, philosophize until the picture they want to present takes form. History is man's foggy notions.
 
I might have known you wouldn't need much encouragement to elaborate! I'll just make a few notes in the margins...
tiassa said:
The canon, the creed, the idea of institution. Are these founding contributors to faith in conflict with themselves or each other? It would seem so. Is Christian faith a contiguous heritage and experience, or are contemporary Christians completely isolated from Christ by the evolution of faith through history? I'm not going to stand on it outright, but the tendency is to view the Christian heritage as a contiguous experience.
Christian faith is indeed a contiguous heritage of experience. The church is doing their utmost to restore a feeling of connectivity with Christ - it's already bad in South Africa, I can only imagine the situation in America or Europe. Even your example of specialized education (under the cover of being 'well-rounded', if you ask me) might be a symptom of the isolation every person expects to experience in this life. At least maths is still compulsory at most high schools, but few people think they would need history - much less the history of their faith. After all, the Bible is supposed to provide all the history they need...

But it is an evolved faith - you can't get around it. In fact, progression was expected - in the words of Paul, "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. ... I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it." (Philippians 3:12-13)

tiassa said:
To put it in a simplified, modern context, who has the time to care? I can think of a few warring countries in Africa that would be better served by arguing about anything other than what they are. But in modern America, what Christian really has time? In an economy that often demands two parents with careers or, at least, jobs, outside the home, after feeding the kids, getting them to school, and paying the bills, who has time to worry about how we got from Jesus' lips to the preacher's?
Not all progress need be academic, certainly, but nothing is achieved without taking the time to achieve it. God's kingdom is not something that has arrived and is now to be enjoyed without thought or effort. Paul &co. understood this well, and it's not as if Jesus ignored it either... Not everybody has the time or energy for mind-gymnastics as we do, but to put it succinctly - if you don't take the time to eat, you starve. Faith is no different. God did not ask people to put one in seven days aside for Him to do their nails. I can't speak for any other country, but the general synod in South Africa have certainly emphasized historical continuity. There are people who study these texts in all sincerity, but reading (and understanding) Tertullian is not the same as believing he was always right.

tiassa said:
At any rate, are the conflicting and complicating factors of the history of the faith--of its heritage--still applicable in any way in modern Chrsitianity, or is the modern faith utterly divorced from Christ and the Apostolic mission?
As I said, not utterly divorced (at least, you and I agree it should not be), but you overestimate the weight Tertullian and others carried in establishing dogma. What you read in Tertullian, Clement, and even as late as Luther and Calvin, is part of an ongoing process of deliberation and dialogue - and not all of it was written polemic. You can't judge them in isolation, they are themselves players in the ongoing history. Especially in the early Catholic/Orthodox church, emphasis was on tradition - in the end, the dependence on history might have smothered what should have been a living church, and the textual criticism we know today, which lead to things like the Jesus seminar, was born. But that is just as insufficient without sensitivity to what we should be "taking hold of".

God's church will just not survive without a living relationship with Him. This might sound unacceptable to a critical sensibility that demands academic consistency, but if we don't believe God has as much to do with the future of faith as He had in the history of faith, we might as well not believe in God at all.
 
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As I said, not utterly divorced (at least, you and I agree it should not be), but you overestimate the weight Tertullian and others carried in establishing dogma. What you read in Tertullian, Clement, and even as late as Luther and Calvin, is part of an ongoing process of deliberation and dialogue - and not all of it was written polemic. You can't judge them in isolation, they are themselves players in the ongoing history. Especially in the early Catholic/Orthodox church, emphasis was on tradition - in the end, the dependence on history might have smothered what should have been a living church, and the textual criticism we know today, which lead to things like the Jesus seminar, was born. But that is just as insufficient without sensitivity to what we should be "taking hold of".
What of the above I would contest is a bit of a vague issue, even to me.

• Overestimate Tertullian? Perhaps, but I would suggest that it is possible that you're wrongly estimating the subtlety of the impact.
• Cannot judge in isolation/ongoing history: Agreed entirely.
• Emphasis on tradition: There is some to be contested here, as many traditions were invented during this time--e.g. ecclesiastical succession, call to a catholic (universal) church of Christ, &c. But the aspect of what specifically I disagree with, as we might be looking at different collections of tradition within the body Christian . . . . (fragment: I have no idea how that sentence was supposed to end)
• Lead to things like the Jesus seminar: By the time we get to Luther, and eventually Calvin, I agree with you. But the produce of the labors of Tertullian and Irenaeus (why are there four canonical Gospels?) created a bottlenecking of ideologies until an orthodox faith was extracted.
• Sensitivity to what we should be "taking hold of": I agree, and even have the impression that we've almost come full circle to look at the idea anew.
God's church will just not survive without a living relationship with Him. This might sound unacceptable to a critical sensibility that demands academic consistency, but if we don't believe God has as much to do with the future of faith as He had in the history of faith, we might as well not believe in God at all.
In the abstract I raise a glass. In the practical, of course I see challenges. That should surprise neither of us.

I would actually love for you to expand on the future and history of faith; that's a very interesting point that leaves me with about six ways to respond, none of which seem particularly derisive, but I still want to make sure I read you clearly.

Unfortunately, my copy of Russel's Lucifer: The Devil in the Middle Ages, one of the modern volumes that dropped my jaw in terms of faith and history, is with a friend, so I'm left with Pagels and Armstrong on my shelf; the former was a contributing editor to the English release of the Nag Hammadi texts; the latter a former nun, teacher at a rabbinical school, and member of the Association of Muslim Social Sciences. (I'm a fan of these tertiary examinations because they are dotted throughout with the classical sources and are an excellent portal to deeper study.) Writing of the Montanist heresy, Armstrong notes:
Soon the heresy attracted no less a person than Tertullian, the leading theologian of the Latin Church. In the East, Clement and Origen preached a peaceful, joyous return to God, but in the Western Church, a more frightening God demanded hideous death as a condition of salvation. At this stage, Christianity was a struggling religion in Western Europe and North Africa, and from the start there was a tendency toward extremism and rigor. (105)
In discussing Augustine:
Neither Jews nor Greek Orthodox Christians regarded the fall of Adam in such a catastrophic light [as Augustine]; nor, later, would Muslims adopt this dark theology of Original Sin. Unique to the West, the doctrine compounds the harsh portrait of God suggested earlier by Tertullian.

Augustine left us with a difficult heritage. A religion which teaches men and women to regard their humanity as chronically flawed can alienate them from themselves. Nowhere is this alienation more evident than in the denigration of sexuality in general and women in particular. Even though Christianity had originally been quite positive for women it had already developed a misogynistic tendency in the West by the time of Augustine. the letters of Jerome teem with loathing of the female which occasionally sounds deranged. Tertullian had castigated women as evil temptresses, an eternal danger to mankind:

Do you not know that you are each an Eve? The sentence of God on this sex of yours lives in this age: the guilt must of necessity live too. You are the devil's gateway; you are the unsealer of that forbidden tree; you are the first deserter of the divine law; you are she who persuaded him whom the devil was not valiant enough to attack. You so carelessly destroyed man, God's image. On account of your desert, even the Son of God had to die. (124)
Thus opens the text of Tertullian's remarks On Women's Dress. Armstrong even cites a letter from among Augustine's writings in which he writes, "What is the difference whether it is a wife or a mother, it is still Eve the temptress that we must beware of in any woman." (p.124)

Now, the problem is that when you come across the misogynistic Christians (SBC comes to mind, but I can't say whether every Southern Baptist congregation behaves that way) you're more likely to hear about 1 Timothy. But the question remains as to why this part of the Bible is given attention at all. After all, it seems ironic, in today's post-9/11 sociopolitical arguments surrounding terror and paranoia, Islam and Arabs, &c, that so few people discuss issues from 1 Corinthians. While I've observed Christian women who find this passage important, I would love to see Anderson Cooper give the 360° treatment to the idea of whether Paul would be frightened of, say, Annie Lennox or Sinead O'Connor, or whether women can pray with their heads uncovered in the modern day because it has become acceptable and even fashionable for women to shave their heads?

Which also points back to the evolution of faith. Quantifying and qualifying the influence of someone like Tertullian is something I might do if I ever finish college and do grad work in theology. In the meantime, Pagels, in The Gnostic Gospels addresses in the first chapter a basic question:
"Jesus Christ rose from the grave." With this proclamation the Christian church began. This may be the fundamental element of Christian faith; certainly it is the most radical. Other religions celebrate cycles of birth and death: Christianity insists that in one unique historical moment, the cycle reversed, and a dead man came back to life! For Jesus' followers this was the turning point in world history, the sign of its coming end. Orthodox Christians since then have confessed in the creed that Jesus of Nazareth, "crucified, dead, and buried," was raised "on the third day." Many today recite that creed without thinking about what they are saying, much less actually believing it . . . . (3)
I know that as a child of a holiday-Lutheran family, I was being taught to recite prayers and creeds without being taught what they meant. My Lutheran "confirmation" instruction consisted of looking at various points of faith and discussing why we recited this or believed that. The answer always dead-ended at "it's in the Bible." And then we would sit and listen as the Bible was taught as historical fact. None of the people who were confirmed with me knew who Tertullian or Augustine or Irenaeus were. We didn't even go through a review of Martin Luther's life. Calvin was known to us as a joke from our US history classes, as were folks like Whitfield, and, eventually in high school, Jonathan Edwards. (Yet I got Edwards at a Catholic high school; if I say, "Sinners in the hands of an angry God," most of my public-school brethren in the area would know it from college history.)

And speaking of Catholic school ... now there was a bunch of people who recited things without thinking. Perhaps that's what adulthood was for, but young Catholics at my high school went through the motions and confessed their sins and waved their hands about their face and chests much like they were taking the SAT's--retain for the test, forget about it later.

That speaks volumes to me about how the faith is communicated in the modern day.

Pagels, incidentally, makes it clear that the Biblical telling has the disciples seeing Jesus himself resurrected, and not a ghost; this was fairly unique in its day, apparently. (pg. 4) She arrives at our friend Tertullian in the early going:
Tertullian, a brilliantly talented writer (AD c. 190), speaking for the majority, defines the orthodox position: as Christ rose bodily from the grave, so every believer should anticipate the resurrection of the flesh. He leaves no room for doubt. He is not, he says, talking about the immortality of the soul: "The salvation of the soul I believe needs no discussion: for almost all heretics, in whatever way they accept it, at least do not deny it." What is raised is "this flesh, suffused with blood, built up with bones, interwoven with nerves, entwined with veins, (a flesh) which ... was born, and ... dies, undoubtedly human." Tertullian expects the idea of Christ's suffering, death, and resurrection to shock his readers; he insists that "it must be believed, because it is absurd."

Yet some Christians--those he calls heretics--dissent. Without denying the resurrection, they reject the literal interpretation; some find it "extremely revolting, repugnant, and impossible." Gnostic Christians interpret resurrection in various ways. Some say that the person who experiences the resurrection does not meet Jesus raised physically back to lirfe; rather, he encounters Christ on a spiritual level. This may occur in dreams, in ecstatic trance, in visions, or in moments of spritual illumination. But the orthodox condemn all such interpretations; Tertullian declares that anyone who denies the resurrection of the flesh is a heretic, not a Christian. (4-5)
In acknowledging the evolving faith, I will say that I got a minor surprise the first time I ever read anyone at Sciforums insisting on a bodily resurrection, but in the time since, I realize I should have expected it. In fact, compared to some people's simplistic expectations of resurrection, I've heard some damned whoppers. My favorite, just for the smile value, is that we will all lie sleeping until Judgment Day, when the Lord will raise and judge us, and those redeemed will gather around the Lord and sing hosannas of praise in joyous rapture for all eternity. (It really makes faith sound like God's ego trip, but that's what you get when you hire teachers based on their degrees--e.g. master's in theology from University of Notre Dame; our school apparently broke church rules by hiring a seminary dropout to teach theology because he had a degree from Oxford--instead of the actual quality of their work.)

And, while it's true that few people today look to Tertullian for guidance in matters of faith, he most certainly has lent some of that apparent impetuousness to Christianity. Whether or not we affix "blame" to Tertullian or pin the tale elsewhere, much of his argumentation is of a classic circular form that's all well and fine inasmuch as one already agree with certain bases of faith. But the inflexibility that comes with such a worldview is one of the hallmarks of Christian faith en masse that merely redirects lower passions instead of defeats them outright.

That inflexibility is one of the consistencies throughout the diversity of the central, orthodox (note the lower case) vein of Christian faith through history. And more than Tertullian or Irenaeus or Augustine, more than the individual manifestations of these faults (misogyny, supremacism, &c), that inflexibility seems to be the underlying vitality of Christianity's "morbid streak," so to speak.

As such, Tertullian is a single faceted flash in a disco glitter. But his treatise On Baptism reads very familiarly, even the funny parts (e.g. Chapter V. And so he stands as a good example; if I do not believe myself to be overstating Tertullian's influence, it's because that influence is rather difficult to measure.

But what if Arius had won out at Nicaea? Would the Creed read any differently? Would docetism be cemented in the foundation of the faith? Would Tertullian have been tolerated at all by his peers?

The truth of Christ's suffering, of His resurrection, was a foundation of faith, the reason for enduring in His Name. As Ignatius wrote to the Trallians:
But if, as some atheists, that is, unbelievers, say, His suffering was but a make-believe--when, in reality, they themselves are make-believes--then why am I in chains? Why do I even pray that I may fight wild beasts? In vain, then, do I die! My testimony is, after all, but a lie about the Lord! (Trallians, 10)
Ignatius' ... um ... "logic" aside, he strikes after a very important point. It cycles so nicely to Athanasius' inflation of the divinity of Christ at Nicaea. Ignatius wrote to the Smyrnaeans:
Some ignorantly deny Him, or rather have been denied by Him, being the advocates of death rather than of the truth. These persons neither have the prophets persuaded, nor the law of Moses, nor the Gospel even to this day, nor the sufferings we have individually endured. For they think also the same thing regarding us. For what does any one profit me, if he commends me, but blasphemes my Lord, not confessing that He was [truly] possessed of a body? But he who does not acknowledge this, has in fact altogether denied Him, being enveloped in death. I have not, however, thought good to write the names of such persons, inasmuch as they are unbelievers. Yea, far be it from me to make any mention of them, until they repent and return to [a true belief in] Christ's passion, which is our resurrection.

Let no man deceive himself. Both the things which are in heaven, and the glorious angels, and rulers, both visible and invisible, if they believe not in the blood of Christ, shall, in consequence, incur condemnation. "He that is able to receive it, let him receive it." Let not [high] place puff any one up: for that which is worth all is a faith and love, to which nothing is to be preferred. But consider those who are of a different opinion with respect to the grace of Christ which has come unto us, how opposed they are to the will of God. They have no regard for love; no care for the widow, or the orphan, or the oppressed; of the bond, or of the free; of the hungry, or of the thirsty.

They abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer, because they confess not the Eucharist to be the flesh of our Saviour Jesus Christ, which suffered for our sins, and which the Father, of His goodness, raised up again. Those, therefore, who speak against this gift of God, incur death in the midst of their disputes. But it were better for them to treat it with respect, that they also might rise again. It is fitting, therefore, that ye should keep aloof from such persons, and not to speak of them either in private or in public, but to give heed to the prophets, and above all, to the Gospel, in which the passion [of Christ] has been revealed to us, and the resurrection has been fully proved. But avoid all divisions, as the beginning of evils. (Smyrnaeans, 5 - 7)
Curious, indeed, in that last paragraph we might find some of what the Gnostics of the period may have found "revolting," "repugnant," or "impossible."

And we can--I do not deny--look at the situation in terms of untangling a nasty web, of moving back and forth until a center is found, and while that evolution can be construed as positive--it does not serve my purpose for the moment to dwell otherwise--how do we reconcile this evolution with any sense of completeness of God's word in the Bible? Does that evolution in fact represent adaptation to the conditions? What, then, if people are constantly readapting--often, seemingly--in accord with new low standards, according to the human predisposition toward sin?

Practically speaking, if we say that the modern faith does not look like the founding faith except for a few superficial points, and if that difference reflects the demands of the times, what can be said of the processes and events of history which lead us to that situation? We might look at the problematic aspects included in the benchmark names and writings of Christian development and wonder how differently things might look today if any one of those minds had chosen to transcend orthodoxy instead of advance it.

And while that consideration is, of itself, generally worthless, we also might look forward and consider the future of faith if the faithful should take the time to understand and learn from the history of the Christian heritage. The cycle can be broken, and a stronger faith can grow from this seed.

Or ... so says me.

Notes:

• Armstrong, Karen. A History of God: The 4,000-Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. New York: Knopf, 1994.
• Ignatius of Antioch. "Epistle to the Smyrnaeans." See http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/0109.htm
• Ignatius of Antioch. "Epistle to the Trallians." See http://www.churchhistory.net/documents/ign-trl.html
• Pagels, Elaine. The Gnostic Gospels. New York: Vintage, 1989. (1979)

See Also:

• St. Augustine. Enchiridon. See http://www.churchhistory.net/documents/ign-trl.html
• Tertullian. On the Apparel of Women. See http://www.tertullian.org/anf/anf04/anf04-06.htm
• Tertullian. On Baptism. See http://www.tertullian.org/anf/anf03/anf03-49.htm#P11508_3256043
• Univ. of Virginia. The Holy Bible (RSV). See http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/rsv.browse.html

(I think that's all of them.)
 
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You almost make it seem as if the orthodox views were the more liberal ones, while the gnostic were closer to the "original" truth, because they had the more modern, new age-spiritual take on things. Or am I confusing you with Medicine*Woman?

It might just be my Christian-biased view, but I get the feeling - especially from my more fundamentalist/charismatically-inclined friends - that the "revolutions" in modern faith are brought about by trying to return to the first-century almost-Jewish faith. To the extent that some of them seem to become more Jewish than Christian in keeping the commandments. This is distinctly the feeling I get from the Ellen Whites and some other fundamentalistically inclined sects. What happened to Paul's admonitions about trying to keep laws that bind you, instead of ones that free you?

But I'm taking the circular route to my point. Aside from what Tertullian and Ignatius had to say, I'm surprised that you are surprised that modern Christians would believe in a bodily resurrection. And Pagel's statement that "Many today recite that creed without thinking about what they are saying, much less actually believing it" sounds less than honest. When someone mentions an apple, I hardly think twice whether he means an apple seed or an apple fruit. And it hardly matters. Most Christians have read 1 Cor. 15 (v.35 onwards) and have tried to picture it one way or another until realizing that we are to "become like Christ", and that whatever His body was after resurrection, it wasn't a different Jesus than the one who entered the grave - not a different body, but a changed one; not a different life, but a changed one...

It might also shed some light on Ignatius' "dubious" logic. It seems like he was only reflecting the words of Paul:
16For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. 17And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. 18Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. 19If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men.
If a person truly believes in the "bodily" (of whatever substance, but in the same "image") resurrection, and its bearing on his own life, then it would inevitably inspire exaltations of God of the kind expressed at Nicea.

I don't think you intended to overestimate Tertulian &co., but maybe you underestimate the underlying faith that they were expressing with those words. Tertullian might have genuinely believed the Eucharist to be the very body of Christ, as any true Catholic, but merely wishes those who do not to "treat it with respect" instead of speaking against it. His belief might inspire orthodoxy, but his intentions inspire tolerance. I can almost feel the authors' exasperation in every sentence: Why bind yourself to notions of orthodoxy or liberalism, and not to those that intend to free you from such divisions? And not just any notions - these ones.
 
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