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Principles of Gnostic Exegesis Gnosticims
Principles of Gnostic Exegesis Gnosticims
Tuckett
Principles of Gnostic Exegesis
1 Introduction
The title for this essay was first suggested by the organisers of the colloquium at
which the papers in this volume originated.¹ In light of the focus of the volume
as a whole (and of the original colloquium), I consider here the interpretation (or
exegesis) of the gospels, such as those gospels which were (later) to become can-
onical.² I have also for the most part focused on the Nag Hammadi and related
texts themselves.³ As we shall see, the whole issue might look a little different
depending on whether one focuses on the Nag Hammadi and related texts
alone or whether one takes into account other material preserved within the writ-
ings of church fathers. Further, in light of other essays in the volume, I have not
treated the Gospel of Thomas or the Gospel of Philip in any detail. Certainly the
former requires a very full treatment in its own right. However, the title of the
essay deserves some brief preliminary discussion. Certainly both the words
“G/gnostic” and “exegesis” raise issues which need to be noted initially: the
first in its own right, the second in the context of this essay.
The term “G/gnostic” presents many, by now well-known, dangers and po-
tential difficulties. Whether the word (or the associated noun “Gnosticism”) is ap-
propriate to use at all is debated by some,⁴ though even those who would ques-
tion the use of the word itself would not deny that many of the texts usually
To be fair, the original title suggested was “Principles of Gnostic (and anti-Gnostic) Exegesis.”
Any attempt to try to cover possible principles used by those writing to oppose Gnostic ideas/
writers would extend the discussion here very considerably. I have therefore chosen to focus
solely on “Gnostic” exegesis.
In what follows, I refer to the “canonical gospels” without always explicitly noting that these
gospels were not necessarily canonical at the time of the writing of the various Gnostic texts con-
sidered, but only became canonical later. In part this is to prevent the text becoming too cum-
bersome, but any reference to the “canonical gospels” should be taken with this proviso. These
gospels may have been gaining in status and authority, though the precise nature of that status
is unclear.
I include among “related” texts the Gospel of Mary and the Gospel of Judas, from the BG 8502
codex and Codex Tchacos respectively. Both codices contain other texts also found within the
Nag Hammadi library and are clearly closely related to the Nag Hammadi texts.
See e. g. Michael A. Williams, Rethinking “Gnosticism”: An Argument for Dismantling a Dubious
Category (Princeton: Princeton University, 1996); Karen L. King, What is Gnosticism? (Cambridge,
Mass.: Harvard University, 2003).
https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110542349-013
See variously Christoph Markschies, “Gnosis/Gnostizismus,” in RGG4, Bd. 3, (2000): 1045 – 53;
Birger A. Pearson, “Gnosticism as a Religion,” in Gnosticism and Christianity in Roman and Cop-
tic Egypt (New York & London: T&T Clark International, 2004), 201– 23, and others.
For the sake of consistency, I use the capitalised forms Gnostic and Gnosticism here, and for
simplicity without inverted commas.
For Valentinians, see Ismo Dunderberg, “The School of Valentinus,” in A Companion to Sec-
ond-Century Christian “Heretics”, ed. Antti Marjanen and Petri Luomanen, VCSup 76 (Leiden:
Brill, 2005), 64– 99; also his Beyond Gnosticism: Myth, Lifestyle and Society in the School of Val-
entinus (New York: Columbia University, 2008). For Sethians, the literature is immense: see the
seminal essay of Hans-Martin Schenke, “Das sethianische System nach Nag-Hammadi-Hand-
schriften,” in Studia Coptica, ed. Peter Nagel (Berlin: Akademie, 1974), 165 – 73; also id., “The
Phenomenon and Significance of Gnostic Sethianism,” in The Rediscovery of Gnosticism: Pro-
ceedings of the International Conference on Gnosticism at Yale. Volume 2. Sethian Gnosticism,
ed. Bentley Layton (Leiden: Brill, 1978), 588 – 616. For recent surveys of the various issues, see
Michael A. Williams, “Sethianism,” in A Companion (n. 7), 32– 63; Jens Schröter, “The Figure
of Seth in Jewish and Early Christian Writings. Was there a ‘Sethian Gnosticism’?” in The
Other Side: Apocryphal Perspectives on Ancient Christian “Orthodoxies”, ed. Tobias Nicklas et
al., NTOA 117 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2017), 135– 48.
not therefore expect uniformity and one cannot impose any kind of rigid scheme
on the material. A single essay such as this can therefore only scratch the surface
of a potentially vast and highly complex field. In what follows, I make no at-
tempt to be comprehensive but simply pick up on a few features which may
be worth noting in relation to some of the relevant texts.
The term “exegesis” in this context might also be questionable. “Exegesis” is
sometimes regarded as the attempt to determine the meaning of a (written) text.
How far Gnostics made conscious and positive use of written texts, and how far
they saw themselves as engaged in a process of interpreting such texts, is not
certain, as we shall see. Hence it may be that the use of the word “exegesis”
in the present context is a slight misnomer. On the other hand, “exegesis” can
be used in a looser sense, referring to the way in which later writers exploited
earlier texts in a more general way; and in this looser sense, it may be appropri-
ate to talk of “exegesis” by Gnostic writers. One may also note that there seems
to be something of a mismatch between some of the accounts given in the church
fathers about Gnostic uses of the gospels and/or gospel traditions and also the
material by Gnostics preserved by the church fathers on the one hand, and the
evidence which emerges from the Gnostic texts themselves on the other.⁸ I start
then by considering the evidence which we have from the church fathers, before
turning to the evidence from Gnostic texts themselves.
A number of the church fathers write about the way in which Gnostic writers
used, interpreted and exploited the texts of the canonical gospels for their
own ends. The impression one gets is that Gnostic writers made very extensive
use of these texts to justify their own beliefs and claims, and that these texts
were crucially important for them. Thus Origen claims that Gnostics produced
many commentaries on gospel (and other apostolic) texts: “Yet I see the hetero-
dox assailing the church of God in those days, under the pretence of higher wis-
dom, and bringing forward works in many volumes in which they offer exposi-
tions of the evangelical and apostolic writings.”⁹
This is of course by no means the only way in which the evidence from the church fathers
about Gnostics and the evidence from Gnostics themselves does not always match very well.
Comm. Jo. 5.8.
Irenaeus also states that the interpretation of gospel texts (especially John)
was a key part especially of Valentinian argumentation. Thus he refers to “the
followers of Valentinus” as “making copious use of [the gospel] according to
John to illustrate their conjunctions” (Haer. 3.11.7).¹⁰ He gives quite a lot of sub-
stance to this in the earlier part of his work, giving detailed examples of the ways
in which Ptolemy and others used the gospels, focusing on use of numbers and
numerology amongst other things. Thus he claims that they derive the number of
30 aeons in the Pleroma from the parable of the labourers in the vineyard, sent
out in the first, third, sixth, ninth and eleventh hours (Matt 20:1– 16), by noting
that 1+3+6+9+11=30 (Haer. 1.1.3). The three different classes of men and women
(material, psychic and spiritual) are found by them in the three claimants to dis-
cipleship in Luke 9:57 ff., and in the “three” measures of meal used by the
woman in the parable of the leaven, the woman also being seen as the figure
of Sophia (Haer. 1.8.3). Irenaeus also gives what he claims is an extensive quo-
tation of Ptolemy deriving the existence and names of the eight aeons in the pri-
mary Ogdoad via a detailed exegesis of the wording of the Johannine prologue
(Haer. 1.8.5).¹¹ All this suggests a picture of Gnostic thinkers and writers engaging
in very detailed interpretation of the canonical gospel texts, especially perhaps
the parables, and regarding it as vitally important to derive their ideas via “exe-
gesis” of these texts.
On the other hand, Irenaeus elsewhere gives a slightly different view. He ac-
cuses the people he is opposing of effectively rejecting the witness of scripture:
these people, he asserts, regard scripture as ambiguous, the apostles intermin-
gled things from the Saviour with things “of the law”, and even claim that the
words of Jesus come sometimes from the Demiurge, sometimes from “the inter-
mediate place”, and (only) sometimes from the Pleroma. Hence, he concludes,
“these men do now consent neither to scripture nor to tradition” (Haer.
3.2.1– 2). This then would seem to envisage a model whereby Gnostics did not re-
gard the scriptures recognised by Irenaeus in a positive way at all. So too, later in
his Book 3, Irenaeus accuses various “heretics” of playing loose with the scrip-
tural canon, so that Marcion is accused of cutting out things from the canon (cf.
Marcion’s assumed preference for the Gospel of Luke alone), whereas the Valen-
Cf. too his reference to the followers of Ptolemy “striving, as they do, to adapt the good words
of revelation to their own wicked inventions” (Haer. 1.3.6).
There is doubt about whether the explicit attribution to Ptolemy himself is a genuine part of
Irenaeus’ text here as the relevant phrase (et Ptolemaeus quidem ita) is missing from the Greek
text of Irenaeus and from Epiphanius’ later use of this material: see e. g. Christoph Markschies,
“New Research on Ptolemaeus Gnosticus,” ZAC 4 (2000): 225 – 54, 249 – 50; Dunderberg, “The
School of Valentinus” (n. 7), 77. However, the issue is not directly relevant here.
tinians use their own “Gospel of Truth” (and presumably, by implication in Ire-
naeus’ argument at this point, are not using the gospels recognised by Irenaeus
himself: see Haer. 3.11.9).¹²
The more positive attitude to the canonical gospels finds support in some of the
other material, allegedly written by Gnostics, preserved in the writings of other
church fathers. Thus alongside the account allegedly by Ptolemy in Haer. 1.8.5,
we have the Letter of Ptolemy to Flora preserved by Epiphanius (Pan. 33.3 – 7),
the fragments of Heracleon’s commentary on John preserved within Origen’s
own commentary on John, the Excerpts from Theodotus preserved in Clement
of Alexandria, as well as instances where Irenaeus claims to quote the argu-
ments of Gnostics (such as Ptolemy in Haer. 1.8.5). In part, some of these
might support the positive attitude noted above.
Ptolemy’s Letter to Flora, whilst in one way focusing primarily on the status of
the Mosaic Law found in Jewish scripture, and making its famous three-part di-
vision (arguing that one part of the Law originates with the supreme God, one
with the “just” Demiurge, and one with the “elders of the people”), claims
that all further teaching can be tested “by means of our saviour’s teaching”
(Pan. 33.7.9) and indeed that Flora will be able to do such testing. This would
be congruent with a presumption that further teaching will be derived via de-
tailed exegesis of specific texts containing the teaching of the saviour, i. e. the
canonical gospels. On the other hand, there is no reference to “texts” here, but
only to “the saviour’s teaching”; this could be the teaching as found in specific
texts which are universally shared by all, but this interpretation is by no means
required. It could just as well be that the reference is to teaching of the saviour
which is available only to a select few, in revelations and secret teaching given
only to other Gnostics. The reference here is thus ambiguous and, although often
There is of course a well-known debate about whether the “Gospel of Truth” mentioned here
by Irenaeus is the same as the text known as the Gospel of Truth from Nag Hammadi (NHC I,3:
the name given to the text by modern scholarship derives from the opening words of the text,
not from any colophon after the text).
2.2.2 Basilides
And to be fair, earlier in the letter, Ptolemy does appeal to the teaching of Jesus as found in
the canonical gospels to provide his criterion for assessing different parts of the Law: cf.
Pan. 33.6.1 appealing to the teaching of Jesus in Matt 5:21– 37 (about anger, looking with desire
and swearing) in relation to the Decalogue, and to Matt 5:39 (on non-retaliation) in relation to
the lex talionis. See Winrich A. Löhr, “Gnostic and Manichean Interpretation,” in The New Cam-
bridge History of the Bible. Volume 1. From the Beginnings to 600, ed. James Carleton Paget and
Joachim Schaper (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2013), 584– 604, 597.
For Basilides, see especially Winrich A. Löhr, Basilides und seine Schule: eine Studie zur The-
ologie- und Kirchengeschichte des zweiten Jahrhunderts, WUNT 83 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1996); also Birger A. Pearson, “Basilides the Gnostic,” in A Companion (n. 7), 1– 31, with the bib-
liography there.
So e. g. Löhr, Basilides (n. 14), 4– 14, 223 – 30. Löhr argues that it might be a commentary on
Luke.
See especially the doubts raised by James A. Kelhoffer, “Basilides’s Gospel and Exegetica
(Treatises),” VC 59 (2005): 115 – 34, especially 121– 2.
wrote a commentary on it. The evidence is simply too meagre and fragmentary to
establish any firm conclusions. If though the material preserved by Clement is
both genuine (as part of a “commentary”) and also representative, it would
seem that Basilides’ comments took the form of extended accounts in his own
words of a general theme suggested by the text being commented on. There is
no detailed discussion of the meaning or significance of individual words or
phrases, nor any reference to the wording of a text being exegeted as such.
The “commentary” seems to be at most the context providing an opportunity
for the author to develop in his own words what he wants to say, almost inde-
pendent of any prior text being interpreted.
2.2.3 Heracleon
The one work of this nature that does survive – in part – is the commentary of
Heracleon on John’s gospel, parts of which are cited by Origen in his Commen-
tary on John.¹⁷ The nature of the evidence we have for Heracleon’s text inevitably
means that our knowledge of it is partial and hence somewhat insecure. We only
have Origen’s quotations of Heracleon: hence we do not necessarily have all of
Heracleon’s commentary.¹⁸ Also we cannot always be sure where Origen’s quota-
tions of Heracleon ends and where his own comments begin again. Further, we
do not know how accurate Origen was in his citations, and it may indeed be that
at times Origen misquoted (or misunderstood) Heracleon.¹⁹ Nevertheless, with all
these caveats in mind, the broad outlines of Heracleon’s commentary and the
principles of his “exegesis”, seem clear (or at least in the sections we have).
Heracleon is mostly concerned to relate all the text he interprets in relation
to claims that he wishes to make about the origins and nature of the universe, its
“personnel”, and above all (at least in the material which survives in Origen)
about the nature of the responses to the Saviour which are evidenced. All this
is done primarily through an “allegorical” interpretation which takes many of
For Heracleon, see Elaine Pagels, The Johannine Gospel in Gnostic Exegesis. Heracleon’s Com-
mentary on John, SBLMS 17 (New York: Abingdon, 1973); Ansgar Wucherpfennig, Heracleon Phi-
lologus. Gnostische Johannesexegese im zweiten Jahrhundert, WUNT 142 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
2002); Einar Thomassen, “Heracleon,” in The Legacy of John: Second-Century Reception of the
Fourth Gospel, ed. Tuomas Rasimus; NovTSup 132 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 173 – 210.
Origen gives no citations of Heracleon’s commentary after John 8. Hence we do not know
how much of the gospel Heracleon commented on.
See e. g. Wucherpfennig, Heracleon Philologus (n. 17), 52; Thomassen, “Heracleon” (n. 17), 185,
on Frg. 13.
the details of the text as references to figures and entities in Heracleon’s (Valen-
tinian) understanding of the nature of reality.
To give a few examples: in Frg. 1, John 1:3 (“all things were made through
him and without him nothing was made”) is taken as referring to the work of
the Logos in being ultimately responsible for the creation of the cosmos (“all
things”) but not of the full Pleroma; further, the use of the preposition “through
whom”, rather than “from whom” or “by whom” (οὐ τὸν ἀφ’ οὗ ἢ ὑφ’ οὗ, ἀλλὰ
δι’ οὗ) indicates that it is the Logos who is the ultimate power behind the crea-
tion of the (lower) world, even if the direct agent is the Demiurge who thereby
acts at the bequest of the Logos. In Frg. 8, the figure of John the Baptist in
John 1:26 – 27 is taken to be the Demiurge explicitly saying that he is inferior
to the figure of the Logos-Saviour; and in Frg. 10, John’s words of John 1:29 (“Be-
hold the lamb of God”) are taken as referring to the “body” of the Saviour and
thereby showing that the Demiurge/“John” does not fully understand the full na-
ture of who Jesus is (otherwise he would have referred Jesus as a full-grown
“ram”). Jesus’ going “down” to Capernaum in John 2:12 is taken as referring to
the descent of the Saviour into the world of matter (Frg. 11);²⁰ his going “up”
to Jerusalem in 2:13 as the Saviour’s ascent to the psychic world (Frg. 13). The
cleansing of the temple in John 2:14– 17 is taken as referring to the salvific
work of the Saviour in cleansing the soul and casting out demonic powers
which are represented in the story by the dealers and money-changers (Frgs.
13, 14).
Origen records quite a lot of detail on Heracleon’s interpretation of the sto-
ries of the Samaritan woman (John 4), the healing of the nobleman’s son (John 4)
and the debate with the “Jews” (John 8). Heracleon takes these as paradigmatic
of responses to the Saviour from three different kinds of human beings. Thus the
Samaritan woman represents the spiritual people who respond to the Saviour
immediately, without hesitation. The “husband” she should call (John 4:16) is
the syzygic male counterpart who will provide her completion in the spiritual
realm, whereas the “six husbands” she has had and are not her (true) husband
(John 4:17) represent the material world from which she can now escape through
the Saviour (Frgs. 17, 18). In the story of the nobleman’s son (John 4:46–53), the
nobleman is taken as the Demiurge, a “petty princeling” set over a small king-
dom by someone greater. The sick child is of the same nature as the Demiurge,
i. e. psychic (Frg. 40). The slow response of the nobleman in the story is then
paradigmatic of the response of psychics (as opposed to spirituals) to the mes-
Perhaps implying that the Saviour assumed a physical body: see Thomassen, “Heracleon”
(n. 17), 183.
sage and invitation of the Saviour. Finally the response of the Jews in John 8 who
reject Jesus is said to show the response of those who are material, and hence of/
from the Devil who is also from the material world (Frg. 20). They are shown to
be children of the Devil (cf. John 8:44: see Frg. 44) by their following the Devil in
their desires and intents (though not necessarily through any predetermined re-
sult of their nature) and their rejection of the Saviour.
Almost everything in Heracleon’s exegesis of John is thus geared to illustrat-
ing aspects of Valentinian beliefs about the nature of the universe (though there
is no explicit explanation here of any myth of the origins of the Pleroma: it is
however almost certainly presupposed), about the different natures of human
beings and their responses to the coming of the Saviour. It is probably fair to
say that Heracleon shows little concern with the nature of the story in John’s gos-
pel as a story which might be about historical events in the world, though he
does make one or two comments at this level.²¹ The exegesis is primarily geared
to making the text of the gospel provide, via an allegorising process, an account
of Valentinian themes and beliefs. Nevertheless, the process undertaken is one
that can clearly count as an exegesis of the text, with at times quite careful at-
tention being paid to the detailed wording of John’s Greek (cf. above on the dis-
cussion of the preposition διά in John 1:3). Moreover, what appears to be clearly
valued are not only the words of Jesus himself in John but also the actions of
Jesus (such as in cleansing the temple or healing the nobleman’s son) and in ad-
dition small details of the narrative (cf. Jesus going “down” to Capernaum, or
“up” to Jerusalem: see above) as well as the words of the narrator (who is clearly
not Jesus) in the Prologue. Thus the basis for the exegesis is an evidently high
value placed not just on the words of Jesus but on the written text of the gospel.²²
This is then genuine exegesis of a text, not just the appropriation of prior tradi-
tions.
E. g. he claims that the place name in John 1:28 is “Bethany”, rather than the “Bethabara”
which Origen reads here, and there is no allegorical interpretation attached to the name
(Frg. 9); he also mentions some details about the temple which are extraneous to his interpre-
tation (cf. Frg. 13: “the temple courtyard, where the Levites also enter”).
See Thomassen, “Heracleon” (n. 17), 195 – 200.
Cf. Irenaeus, Haer. 3.11.9 (noted above) on the extensive use made by Valentinians of a “Gos-
pel of Truth”. Any reception history of the Gospel of Truth itself (if this is the same text as that
referred to by Irenaeus) is largely hidden from us.
New Haven: Yale University, 1989.
See e. g. Stanley E. Porter, “Further Comments on the Use of the Old Testament in the New
Testament,” in The Intertextuality of the Epistles: Explorations of Theory and Practice, ed. Thomas
L. Brodie, Dennis R. MacDonald and Stanley E. Porter (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2007), 98 –
110; Andrew A. Das, Paul and the Stories of Israel. Grand Thematic Narratives in Galatians (Min-
neapolis: Fortress, 2016), ch. 1. Cf. the earlier work (especially on “quotations”) by Dietrich-Alex
Koch, Die Schrift als Zeuge des Evangeliums: Untersuchungen zur Verwendung und zum Verständ-
nis der Schrift bei Paulus, BHTh 69 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1986); Christopher D. Stanley, Paul
which are explicitly indicated as such by the later author using an introductory
formula (such as καθὼς γέγραπται, frequently used by Paul, which makes it clear
that what follows is intended to be a quotation of something that is “written”
somewhere) and the existence of the introduction leaves no doubt that this is in-
tended by the author and also clearly marked for the reader.²⁶ Others would also
allow a parallel to qualify as a “quotation” if there is a significant collocation of
significant words common to both the author and the alleged source text (though
without necessarily an explicit introductory formula) and there is little doubt
that both author and reader would recognise the parallel in question.²⁷ An “al-
lusion” would be a reference to an earlier text that is less precise, but nonethe-
less almost certainly intended by the author, even if the lack of precision means
that the parallel might not be recognised by a reader less familiar with the source
text. An “echo” would then be a much looser parallel, possibly present con-
sciously in the mind of the author but not necessarily so, and equally not nec-
essarily capable of being picked up by a reader; but the possible parallel may
enrich our reading of the text. The categories are by no means watertight, and
indeed may overlap with each other; or alternatively one may slide into another
depending on whose perspective is being adopted. Thus what might be an inten-
tional “allusion”, possibly even thought of as a “quotation” by an author, may be
missed by a reader and effectively, from the latter’s perspective, be at most an
“echo”. So too we as modern readers perhaps need to be careful not to convert
what may have originally been at most a unintentional “echo” by one author
(perhaps influenced subconsciously by the language of an earlier text) into a
clear, deliberately intended “allusion” or even “quotation”.
For the Nag Hammadi and related texts, we need to remember all that was
said earlier about the varied nature of the Gnostic texts included in the codices
of the library. We also need to remember that not all the relevant texts are nec-
essarily Gnostic at all. The Nag Hammadi library contains a version of Plato’s Re-
public (NHC VI,5), and of the Sentences of Sextus (NHC XII,1), neither of which
can be called Gnostic. So too there is huge debate about whether it is appropriate
to label the Gospel of Thomas as Gnostic.²⁸ But even when one focuses on the
Gnostic texts, it is striking that there is only a single explicit reference to another
Christian written “gospel” text. This is the wording in the Treatise on Resurrec-
and the Language of Scripture: Citation Technique in the Pauline Epistles and Contemporary Lit-
erature, SNTSMS 74 (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1992).
The importance of an introductory formula is especially stressed by Stanley.
See e. g. Porter, “Further Comments” (n. 25), 92; Das, Paul and the Stories of Israel (n. 25),
8 – 9.
As noted earlier, the Gospel of Thomas will only be considered here in passing.
tion (NHC I,4) 48.6 – 11: “For if you remember reading in the Gospel that Elijah
appeared and Moses with him, do not think that the resurrection is an illusion.”
Here, for the only time in the Nag Hammadi texts, we have a clear reference to a
written “gospel” text which can be, and has been, “read”. The text is called a
“gospel” and clearly contains the story of (what we now call) the “transfigura-
tion” (though the writer of the text may be taking it as the account of a resurrec-
tion appearance). Whether the text is Mark, Matthew or Luke is probably impos-
sible to say.²⁹ But clearly a gospel text is already in existence and being “read”.
This is however very much the exception. Even in this instance, the reference
is hardly a “quotation”: the writer simply provides a summary of the story in
question and does not give an explicit verbatim citation of the earlier text. If
one wants to restrict “quotation” to explicit citations, i. e. those which have an
introductory formula to indicate explicitly that a quotation from an earlier source
is being cited, then there are probably very few in relation to the canonical gos-
pels.³⁰ One example is found in the Exegesis on the Soul (NHC II,6) which has a
number of explicit citations from various sources (biblical and non-biblical). In
terms of gospel citations, there are three, introduced as the words of the Saviour:
Therefore the Saviour cries out, “No one can come to me unless the Father draws him and
brings him to me; and I myself will raise him up on the last day” (134.35 – 135.4; cf. John
6:44).
Again the Saviour said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for it they who will be pitied;
blessed, those who are hungry, for it they who will be filled” (135.15 – 17; cf. Matt 5:4, 6;
Luke 6:21).
Again he said, “If anyone does not hate his soul he cannot follow me” (135.18 – 21; cf. Luke
14:26).
See Christopher M. Tuckett, Nag Hammadi and the Gospel Tradition (Edinburgh: T&T Clark,
1986), 68 – 69. What appears here is a summary, not a precise quotation. One could refer to the
fact that Elijah here is mentioned before Moses and then argue that it is Mark’s gospel which is
in mind since Elijah is mentioned before Moses in Mark but not in the Matthean or Lukan par-
allels. However, the reference is probably too imprecise to allow such an exact analysis.
As noted earlier, I leave aside discussion of the Gospel of Thomas. Each saying there is in-
troduced by “Jesus said/says”; though even here it is not clear that this counts as an “introduc-
tory formula” introducing a citation from a prior text. It clearly serves to indicate that the speak-
er is Jesus; but whether the author is consciously evoking an earlier source or tradition where the
same words might have been used is not clear. Presumably the prime reason for giving each say-
ing (as something that “Jesus says/said”) is that the words have validity now for the reader and
that they come with the authority of Jesus as the speaker.
Given the penchant for the writer of this text to make extensive quotations, it
seems justified to see these as genuine “quotations” of material, almost certainly
derived from the gospels of Matthew, Luke and John.³¹
In other instances, there is an introduction to a saying which has a clear par-
allel in the gospels, but this may again simply serve to identify the speaker as the
Saviour (or Jesus): it is then not quite clear whether this should count as an “in-
troductory formula” serving to introduce an earlier tradition or source, or wheth-
er it is simply indicating the speaker of the words that follow. If the latter is the
case, what follows is not introduced explicitly as a quotation of an earlier tradi-
tion, but nevertheless the similarity and closeness of the words to earlier tradi-
tions is such that it might still be regarded as a “quotation”. This probably ap-
plies in the case of the Interpretation of Knowledge (NHC XI,1), where at one
point there is a pastiche of sayings with all but verbatim parallels in the gospels:
Now this is his teaching: “Do not call out to a father on earth. Your Father, who is in heaven,
is one. You are the light of the world. They are my brothers and my fellow companions who
do the will of the Father. For what use is it if you gain the whole world and you forfeit your
own soul?” (9.27– 35)³²
The same can probably be said of the pastiche of sayings in the Gospel of Mary
(BG 8502) 8.14– 22:
The blessed one […] greeted them all, saying: “Peace be with you. My peace receive for
yourselves. Beware that no one leads you astray saying, ‘See here!’, or ‘See there!’, for
the Son of Man is within you. Those who seek him will find him. Go then and preach
the gospel of the kingdom.³³
Although the introductory “formulae” simply identify the speaker as “the Saviour”: they do
not necessarily refer back to a prior text.
Cf. the synoptic parallels in Matt 23:9; 5:14; 12:50; 16:26. The parallels are closest with Mat-
thew’s version where there are synoptic parallels, or with material peculiar to Matthew: hence
the likelihood is that the author here is dependent (directly or indirectly) on Matthew’s gospel.
See Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29), 146; Elaine Pagels and John D. Turner, in Nag Hammadi Co-
dices XI, XII, XIII, ed. Charles W. Hedrick, NHS 28 (Leiden: Brill, 1990), 80.
Cf. the synoptic and Johannine parallels in Luke 24:36; John 20:19, 21, 26; 14:27; Mark 13:5
pars.; Mark 13:21 pars.; Luke 17:21; Mark 8:34 pars.; Matt 7:7 par.; Matt 24:14. For discussion of
the details, see Christopher M. Tuckett, The Gospel of Mary (Oxford: Oxford University, 2007),
57– 63.
Similarly there are a few citations of the same nature (with a similar introduc-
tion) in the Gospel of Philip (NHC II,3).³⁴
However, the number of such “quotations” is relatively low. For the most
part, any parallels with material in the gospels are at the level of being allusions
or echoes. Given that it is something of a “grey area” to distinguish between
these, it is very often not clear whether one should regard a parallel as an “allu-
sion” or an “echo”, and hence what status one might/should ascribe to the par-
allel: is this a case of perhaps simply a coincidence in wording? Is it (simply) a
case of wording that is relatively familiar reappearing in a later text but with no
great significance on its own? Is the parallel intended by the author (and/or in-
tended to be picked up by the reader, and/or would be picked up by the read-
er)?³⁵ And perhaps more importantly, for the present context, how far is the au-
thor of a text seeking to refer back to the prior text (or tradition) for some kind of
authority claim? Does the existence of an allusion, or an echo, add anything to
the claims made in the text? Is the author intending to provide an “interpreta-
tion” of what the earlier text (“really”) means? Is this then strictly “exegesis”
of a text, or something rather looser and less well-defined? What, if anything,
is the purpose of alluding to such earlier traditions?
It would of course be simplistic to try to answer such general questions with
a single answer if one thinks that one such answer would (or could) cover all the
texts and examples in question. I have already noted the great variety among the
Nag Hammadi texts in general terms, even among those which might be classi-
fied as Gnostic. This also applies in relation to the possible use such texts make
of earlier traditions as found in the canonical gospels. Certainly the level of such
usage varies very considerably. One can make an inventory of all the Nag Ham-
madi texts to see how much, and how far, they “quote”, “allude to”, or possibly
“echo” synoptic or Johannine traditions; and one can seek to analyse the tradi-
tions concerned in their canonical gospel contexts to see what they might tell us
about the status of the tradition concerned (such as whether they might reflect a
stage in the tradition prior to the writing of those gospels, or whether they pre-
suppose a later stage in the development of the tradition). I have undertaken that
task elsewhere, at least in relation to the Nag Hammadi texts (other than the
Gospel of Thomas) in their use of synoptic material.³⁶ The general results may
Cf. 83.11– 13: “That is why the word says ‘Already the axe is laid at the root of the trees’” (cf.
Q 3:9); 72.34– 73.1: “For he [Christ] said ‘Thus we should fulfil all righteousness’” (cf. Matt 3:15).
Needless to say, these three are not all the same!
See Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29). For use of John, see Titus Nagel, Die Rezeption des Johan-
nesevangeliums im 2. Jahrhundert: Studien zur vorirenäischen Auslegung des vierten Evangeliums
in christlicher und christlich-gnostischer Literatur, ABIG 2 (Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt,
not have been surprising in one way: all such parallels as one can identify give
no evidence of the use of pre-synoptic (or pre-Johannine) traditions but seem to
presuppose the finished gospels (whether such use is made directly or indirect-
ly).
However, one also needs to note that the quantity of the evidence available
varies considerably from text to text. Some texts display no clear, identifiable
parallels with other Christian texts, giving rise to claims by some that the
texts concerned are not Christian at all, with then further possibilities raised
about whether Gnosticism might have originated outside Christianity.³⁷ Thus
text such as Eugnostos (NHC III,5, V,1), The Thunder (NHC VI,2), The Three Steles
of Seth (NHC VII,5), Zostrianos (NHC VIII,1), Norea (NHC IX,2), Marsanes (NHC
X,1), and Allogenes (NHC XI,3) have no clear echoes of, or allusions to, Christian
traditions and are all widely regarded as non-Christian, at least in their present
form. With the other Gnostic texts from Nag Hammadi, the level of Christian in-
fluence varies very considerably. In some texts, there are very few allusions to, or
echoes of, apparently earlier Christian traditions (such as Hypostasis of the Arch-
ons [NHC II,4], Tripartite Tractate [NHC I,5]). Other texts are saturated with such
allusions or echoes (such as Gospel of Truth [NHC I,3], Apocalypse of Peter [NHC
VII,3], Apocryphon of James [NHC I,2]).
As well as a great range in the level of allusions to the canonical gospels,
there is also considerable variation in the way these texts are appropriated. Oth-
ers have tried to classify the ways in which Gnostic writers used Old Testament
texts, especially the Genesis creation stories.³⁸ Some have involved very negative
2000), and others. The work of Pagels, Johannine Gospel (n. 17), which might appear from its
main title to promise a comprehensive survey of the use of John in “Gnostic exegesis” in fact
focuses primarily on the interpretation of John in Heracleon and Ptolemy (as reported in Ire-
naeus and in Flora) with some attention paid to the Gospel of Truth. The same is true of the ar-
ticle of Jean-Daniel Kaestli, “L’exégèse valentienne du quatrième évangile,” in La communauté
johannique et son histoire, ed. Jean-Daniel Kaestli, Jean-Michel Poffet and Jean Zumstein (Gen-
ève: Labor et Fides, 1990), 323 – 50.
Such an argument has some force, though one has to remember the dangers of any argument
from silence: the absence of any obviously Christian features in a text does not necessarily mean
that the text is not Christian. And there is a possibility that traditions may have been “de-chris-
tianised” over the course of time (a possibility raised by Robin McL. Wilson, “The Trimorphic
Protennoia,” in Gnosis and Gnosticism, ed. Martin Krause, NHS 17 [Leiden: Brill, 1977], 50 – 54).
See Löhr, “Gnostic and Manichean Interpretation” (n. 13), 594, with reference to Peter Nagel,
“Die Auslegung der Paradieserzählung in der Gnosis,” in Altes Testament. Frühjudentum. Gnosis,
ed. Karl-Wolfgang Tröger (Gütersloh: Mohn, 1980), 49 – 70; Kurt Rudolph, “Bibel und Gnosis.
Zum Verständnis jüdisch-biblischer Texte in der gnostischen Literatur, vornehmlich aus Nag-
Hammadi,” in Gnosis und spätantike Religionsgeschichte. Gesammelte Aufsätze, NHMS 42 (Lei-
den: Brill, 1996), 90 – 109; also Williams, Rethinking “Gnosticism” (n. 4), 54– 79.
He is the shepherd who left behind the ninety-nine sheep which were not lost. He went
searching for the one which was lost. He rejoiced when he found it, for 99 is a number
that is in the left hand which holds it. But when the one is found, the entire number passes
to the right hand. Thus it is with him that lacks the one; that is, the entire right which draws
what was deficient and takes it from the left-hand side and brings it to the right, and thus
the number becomes 100 (31.35 – 32.16).
The very fact that the imagery of a lost sheep and a shepherd searching is some-
what alien to what the writer wants to say is evidence of an earlier tradition
being forced (somewhat violently) to make it say what the author wants to
say.⁴² It is thus all but certain that the parable of the last sheep from the synoptic
tradition is in mind here. Further, the fact that the parable is allegorised does
suggest that the tradition is regarded as significant and important: one does
not necessarily allegorise an earlier tradition which lacks any significance at
all.⁴³ The actual details of the allegorical interpretation are left rather unclear.
Does the lost sheep refer to a “lost” human being who is given (saving) knowl-
edge and rescued from “error” and/or ignorance? Or is the lost sheep a covert
reference to the being of Sophia and her fall from the Pleroma?⁴⁴ All attention
is focused on the numbers (99 counted on the left hand and representing defi-
ciency, 100 counted on the right hand and representing perfection).⁴⁵ But
again it is not clear if the perfection attained is the unity of all saved human be-
ings, or the unity of the restored Pleroma.⁴⁶
A similar allegorising process occurs in the section which follows:
Even on the Sabbath, he laboured for the sheep which he had found fallen into the pit. He
gave life to the sheep having brought it up from the pit in order that you might know in-
teriorly – you, the sons of interior knowledge – what is the Sabbath on which it is not fitting
for salvation to be idle, in order that you may speak from the day from above, which has no
night, and from the light which does not sink because it is perfect (32.18 – 30).
Here the Matthean tradition of the saying about drawing a sheep out of a pit on
the Sabbath,⁴⁷ probably combined with John 5:17, is being interpreted. Again the
Cf. Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29), 58 – 59; Jacqueline A. Williams, Biblical Interpretation in
the Gnostic Gospel of Truth from Nag Hammadi, SBLDS 79 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988),
119 – 23.
Nevertheless the precise level of significance remains unclear.
Elsewhere, at least according to Irenaeus, Valentinians interpreted the lost sheep of the para-
ble as the figure of Sophia, fallen away from the Pleroma (cf. Haer. 1.8.4; 16.1; 23.2; 2.5.2). How-
ever, the text of Gos. Truth does not (explicitly) mention the Valentinian myth about the origins
of the Pleroma and the fall of Sophia.
For the counting systems presupposed, see Van Unnik, “Gospel of Truth” (n. 41), 96 – 97; Jac-
ques-É. Ménard, L’évangile de vérité, NHS 2 (Leiden: Brill, 1972), 150; Kendrick Grobel, The Gos-
pel of Truth (New York: Abingdon, 1960), 129 – 33; Harold W. Attridge in Nag Hammadi Codex I
(The Jung Codex) Notes, ed. Harold W. Attridge, NHS 23 (Leiden: Brill, 1985), 33.
A similar appeal to the numbers 99 and 100 is attributed to the Marcosians according to Ire-
naeus, Haer. 1.16.2.
The fact that it is a “sheep” in the pit clearly links the text with Matthew’s version of the say-
ing (Matt 12:11), which is almost certainly due to Matthew’s redaction here; hence Gos. Truth here
fact that the language of sheep, pit and (perhaps) Sabbath are all a little alien to
the meaning the writer seeks to extract from the tradition shows that an earlier
tradition is being interpreted, and presumably too regarded positively (and per-
haps in some sense “authoritatively”).⁴⁸
The interpretation of both passages is somewhat “arbitrary” and hardly in-
dicated by the earlier texts themselves. But in both instances the earlier passage
is taken as referring to details of Gnostic belief and thought (such as about the
significance of numbers) with little if any attempt to relate the text to anything in
the life of Jesus.⁴⁹ Such examples of clear interpretation via allegorising are how-
ever not that common in the Nag Hammadi texts themselves. Indeed, perhaps
surprisingly, despite the similarity between the interpretation of the parable of
the lost sheep and the ideas of the Marcosians mentioned in Irenaeus Haer.
1.16.2, there are no real interpretations of the parables discernible which are
comparable to many of the things claimed by Irenaeus to characterise Gnostics’
use of parables in the gospels.
Elsewhere there are many parallels and similarities between the language
used by Gnostic writers and the language of the New Testament gospels. For ex-
ample, the saying about trees and/or humans being known by their “fruits” is
echoed in a number of Nag Hammadi texts,⁵⁰ and there is a notable parallel
in Matt 7:16 – 19. Yet the saying may well be proverbial and need not necessarily
be Jesuanic.⁵¹ And nowhere in the Nag Hammadi texts is the saying explicitly as-
cribed to Jesus and thereby claimed to have any higher authority: the sentiment
(in itself hardly very startling and relatively bland) is simply given on its own
terms. Similarly the saying about seeking and finding may be echoed in various
presupposes Matthew’s finished gospel, and not a pre-synoptic tradition: see Tuckett, Nag Ham-
madi (n. 29), 59 – 60.
Cf. Williams, Biblical Interpretation (n. 42), 123 – 6. The meaning itself is again a little obscure.
See Williams, Biblical Interpretation (n. 42), 126, who tries to spell out the details of the allego-
rising, but admits that “[some of the] details of the implied allegory are unstated and have to be
surmised by the reader.”
See above on Irenaeus Haer. 1.1.3; 1.8.3 and the interpretations of numbers in parables.
See Gos. Truth 33.30; Tri. Trac. 118.23 – 24; Ap. Pet. 75.7– 9; Test. Truth 31.21– 22; Val.
Exp. 36.32. Origen (De Princ. 1.8.2) claims that it was a favourite Valentinian text, though the evi-
dence from the Nag Hammadi only just bears this out.
Cf. Proverbi Aesopi 51: Δῆλος ἔλεγχος ὁ καρπὸς γενήσεται παντὸς δένδρου ἣν ἔχει φύσιν,
cited by H. Dieter Betz, The Sermon on the Mount (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995), 536; the parallel
is also cited by Williams, Biblical Interpretation (n. 42), 137, though she argues that the imagery in
Gos. Truth does derive from Matthew.
places,⁵² but again the saying is given on its own terms without appeal to an ear-
lier authority figure to back it up; its sentiments are of course very congenial to
the Gnostic enterprise generally (to seek to find saving knowledge) and hence the
echo of the synoptic tradition may arise simply because the ideas expressed are
congenial, but there need be no sense of a “quotation” (or necessarily even an
“allusion”) involved.
Allusions and echoes of New Testament texts thus appear in many contexts,
but not often with any clear attempt specifically to “interpret” them nor with an
idea that the saying in question does indeed come from an earlier text, whether
“authoritative” or not. One exception to this may however be the way in which
some texts seem to refer to New Testament texts and traditions in an attempt to
appear to be more “Christian”.
Another way in which the New Testament texts are used in some Nag Hammadi
(and related) writings is to provide a clear(er) “Christian” appearance to a tradi-
tion which might otherwise appear to lack such a profile. There is relatively little
(or no) explicit “exegesis” taking place (in the sense of attempting to find the
meaning of the text). But the use of canonical gospel texts and/or traditions
may reflect a concern to identify the Saviour figure of the Gnostic teaching
more clearly as the Jesus of the (more “orthodox”) Christian tradition.
One of the clearest examples of this is seen in the taking over of the text of Eu-
gnostos in the Sophia of Jesus Christ (NHC III,4; BG 8502,3). As noted above, Eu-
gnostos is devoid of Christian elements. However, in the Sophia of Jesus Christ
the text is rewritten and perhaps “christianized” by adding in, somewhat super-
ficially, dialogue elements, so that the text is no longer a monologue from the
Saviour figure (as in Eugnostos), but becomes a series of questions put by
well-known followers of Jesus in the Christian tradition (Philip, Matthew, Bartho-
lomew, “Mariamme” [= probably Mary Magdalene]) to which the speaker then
Gos. Truth 17.3 – 4; Thom. Cont. 140.41– 42; Dial. Sav. 129.14– 16; Gos. Mary 8.20 – 21; also the
possible references to the longer saying about seeking, finding, marvelling, reigning, resting (cf.
Gos. Thom. 2): see Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29), 154.
gives responses. It is widely accepted that the Sophia of Jesus Christ is the sec-
ondary text (partly because the responses do not fit the questions very well).
There is little if any “exegesis” here (in the sense of trying to find the meaning
of earlier traditions), but the use of the biblical names serves to provide some
recognisably “Christian” material (by making known Christian followers of
Jesus ask questions of the Saviour) to give the text a Christian veneer. The
same is probably happening in the opening scene in the Sophia of Jesus Christ,
where the Saviour appears in a resurrection scene on a mountain in Galilee; the
disciples are perplexed and Jesus says “Peace to you. My peace I give to you”
(91.21– 24). The mountain scene is almost certainly drawn from Matt 28, and
the “peace” greetings from Luke 24:36 and/or John 20:19; 14:27.⁵³ Whatever the
details of the precise parallels and/or which gospel tradition might be reflected
here, the “biblical” material looks as if it is being exploited to try to make the
point that the Saviour figure delivering the Gnostic teaching is none other
than the Jesus of the Christian tradition. Moreover, it creates a setting whereby
the speaker is now the risen Jesus, giving a more extended amount of teaching
in a post-resurrection discourse (a setting exploited by a number of other Gnostic
texts: see below on Apocryphon of John, also Apocryphon of James and others).
This is then not really “exegesis” of the biblical material; but it is using this ma-
terial with an explicit aim.
A similar phenomenon may occur elsewhere. The catena of sayings with close
parallels in the canonical gospels in the Gospel of Mary 8.14– 21 was noted
above as an example of what could reasonably be called a “quotation” (rather
than just an “allusion”). Yet the function of this catena may be very similar to
the imposition of the dialogue form via questions posed by (presumably
known) followers of Jesus, and the depiction of the opening scene, in the Sophia
of Jesus Christ. In the Gospel of Mary, this catena occurs somewhat out of the
blue: there are no clear allusions to Christian materials in the discourse up to
this point (or at least in what survives in the Coptic manuscript), and what fol-
lows in the account of Mary’s vision of the journey of a soul past hostile powers
is equally devoid of Christian elements. Perhaps then this sudden burst of “bib-
lical” parallels is seeking to make the point that the speaker is indeed none other
than the Jesus of the (presumably known) Christian tradition.⁵⁴ Clearly there is a
little more going on than just that here: the “quotation” is by no means an exact
replica of the synoptic sayings, and some (probably Gnostic) reinterpretation has
quietly taken place. Thus the form of the saying in 8.18 – 19 “the Son of Man is
within you” may owe its origin to Luke 17:21 “the Kingdom of God is within
you/in your midst,” but the substance is significantly changed to reflect what
the Gnostic writer wants to say, rather than simply repeating an earlier tradition-
al saying of Jesus.⁵⁵ Nevertheless an important aim of the use of scriptural ideas
here may be to seek to make the case that the Gnostic Saviour figure is none
other than the Christian Jesus.
A similar process of using the other Christian gospels to provide the setting
in which the Gnostic teaching is given (as in the creation of the setting in the So-
phia of Jesus Christ as a resurrection scene modelled on those of the Matthean
and Johannine accounts) may explain the (fairly clear) allusion to John 20:17 in
Gospel Mary 10.10 – 13 (“I saw the Lord in a vision”: the words are repeated,
probably signalling their importance). In what follows (the account of Mary’s vi-
sion) there is nothing clearly Christian at all. However, the setting seems to be
created by taking over the saying from John 20:17 (“I have seen the Lord”) but
also changing the context radically: in John 20, Mary says she has seen Jesus
in a resurrection appearance; in Gospel of Mary, Mary has “seen the Lord” as
the soul making its post-mortem journey past the hostile powers. Thus again
the biblical material is being exploited to provide the scenery that will enable
an otherwise non-Christian account appear to be more Christian.
opening scene has John (explicitly identified as the brother of James and both
then as sons of Zebedee: NHC II 1.5 – 8) going up to the temple and meeting a
Pharisee. John then leaves and goes off to a desert place where the revelation
of the Saviour figure takes place. Woven into the account here are echoes or al-
lusions of the resurrection scene in Matt 28 (cf. 2.10: “why do you doubt?”, cf.
Matt 28:17; 2.12– 13: “I am the one who is with you for ever”, cf. Matt 28:20).
Thus the basically non-Christian material in the bulk of the text is then (some-
what superficially) christianized by this process of creating a geographical and
temporal scene out of small elements of the Christian tradition in the earlier gos-
pels to try to show that the Saviour/teacher figure giving the Gnostic teaching is
none other than the Jesus of the Christian tradition.⁵⁶ And, as with Sophia of
Jesus Christ, it is a setting whereby the speaker is now the risen Jesus giving ex-
tended teaching in a new post-resurrection discourse.
For a similar theory about the synoptic-like material in the Gospel of Thomas, see Mark
Goodacre, Thomas and the Gospels: The Case for Thomas’s Familiarity with the Synoptics
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012), ch. 10: Thomas incorporates this material to gain rapport
with his readers so that they will be more ready to receive the non-synoptic material elsewhere
in the text. A full discussion of Thomas would extend the discussion here too far; however, one
may just note here that the extent of Thomas’ similarity with synoptic tradition is far greater
than in the other parallels mentioned here. It seems unlikely therefore that the purpose of
the synoptic-like material there is simply to strike rapport with the readers and make them
more receptive.
being imposed on the text somewhat artificially.⁵⁷ It seems much more likely
then that the theory has been formed already, and the attempt to derive it
from John 1 exegetically is a secondary attempt at justifying it or seeking to
make it more acceptable to some. Once again we seem to have a pre-existing sys-
tem of thought or ideas where the attempt to christianize it represents a secon-
dary process that is not integral to it.
This process might give some support to the theory that the original tradi-
tions in these texts are fundamentally non-Christian in origin and have been
subsequently christianized, albeit rather superficially, by placing them in a
more overtly “Christian” context. But the use of the Christian materials is some-
what “light-weight”. There is little interpretation of the text going on, at least in
the examples given so far (except in the case of Ptolemy). On the other hand it
may be that this process could be seen as an attempt to bolster the authority of
the Gnostic teaching being given, or make Gnostic teaching more palatable, es-
pecially perhaps among other Christians. The attempt to identify the speaker
more clearly as Jesus may serve to give added authority and status to the teach-
ing given, especially among those who might otherwise doubt the validity of the
teaching. But the very superficial way in which this is done (and the existence of
texts such as Eugnostos where no such attempt to identify the speaker as Jesus is
felt to be necessary) may suggest that the origins of the teaching lie in a non-
Christian context and the process of christianizing them is a secondary develop-
ment.
One final group of texts and examples may be considered here where arguably
the texts show some knowledge (perhaps even “dependence”) on the canonical
gospels, but their attitude to those texts is not one of respect but of hostility and
rejection.
In one set of texts and traditions, some Gnostics evidently claimed that, at the
crucifixion, it was not the true Saviour who was crucified but Simon of Cyrene
in his place with the Saviour looking on and laughing. This tradition appears
in Irenaeus Haer. 1.24.4 (and also Epiphanius Pan. 24.3) ascribed to Basilides.
The same idea may be implied in the Second Treatise of the Great Seth (NHC
VII,2) 56.6 – 19:
It was another, their father, who drank the gall and the vinegar; it was not I. They struck me
with the reed; it was another, Simon, who bore the cross on his shoulder. It was another
upon whom they placed the crown of thorns. But I was rejoicing in the height over all
the wealth of the archons and the offspring of their error, of their empty glory. And I
was laughing at their ignorance.⁵⁸
Who is this one glad and laughing on the tree? And is it another one whose feet and hands
they are striking? The Saviour said to me, “He whom you saw on the tree, glad and laughing
is the living Jesus. But this one into whose hands and feet they drive the nails is his fleshly
part, which is the substitute being put to shame, the one who came into being in his like-
ness.”
This may imply not that Simon of Cyrene takes the place of Jesus but rather, pre-
supposing a three-fold division of the figure of the Saviour, it is only his fleshly
part which suffers while his higher part looks on laughing.⁵⁹ However, despite
the differences in detail, all these have in common the idea that Jesus (or the
“real” Jesus) was not crucified and that someone else was instead.
Some have argued that the claim that Simon of Cyrene took the place of
Jesus arises from a reading of Mark 15:21– 24 where the personal pronouns in
verses 23 – 24 could (just) be taken as referring to Simon rather than Jesus and
where the parallel versions in Matthew and Luke would not allow such an inter-
pretation.⁶⁰ If established, this might be of interest as providing one of the few
pieces of evidence for the use of Mark’s gospel within early Christianity. Howev-
For this as representing a very similar view to that of Basilides according to Irenaeus, see e. g.
Kurt Rudolph, Gnosis (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1983), 168; Majella Franzmann, Jesus in the Nag
Hammadi Writings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 145. However, see Gregory Riley, in Nag Ham-
madi Codex VII, ed. Birger A. Pearson, NHMS 30, (Leiden: Brill, 1996), 137: the reference to Simon
only implies that Simon carried the cross. “Their father” is Yaldabaoth, and perhaps it was (sim-
ply) the body used by Jesus that was crucified.
See Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29), 120.
See Robert M. Grant, “Gnostic Origins and the Basilideans of Irenaeus,” VC 13 (1959): 121– 5,
123; Löhr, “Gnostic and Manichean Interpretation” (n. 13), 591. It is possible that the reference to
the “father” might imply the same, being an echo of the note that Simon of Cyrene was the fa-
ther of Alexander and Rufus, a detail which only appears in Mark: cf. also Franzmann, Jesus (n.
58), 145.
er, there is no evidence that Basilides or the author of Treat. Seth (or the author
of Apoc. Pet. in the similar model) were at all concerned or interested in provid-
ing an interpretation of a given text. There is no evidence to suggest that they
were claiming that a given text (whose authority was accepted by all) was
being interpreted incorrectly by others by claiming that it was the real Jesus
who was crucified, and that instead they were offering the correct interpretation
of this text. Rather, the implication seems to be that the story assumed by others,
and hence presumably the story as implied by the text which relates the story, is
wrong. The critique is then not just of the interpretation of the text which relates
the story. Rather it is of the story and, by implication, of any texts which support
it. This is then not a case of “biblical exegesis”, as if a “biblical” text were the
given starting point and what distinguishes “us” from “them” is simply differing
interpretations of the text. It seems to be a more radical claim that, at least at
times, the whole story which the text(s) describe(s) is being rejected. It is thus
similar to the process whereby, in many Gnostic texts, the creation story of the
first chapters of Genesis is rewritten; but it is a genuinely rewritten story (or “re-
written bible”): it is not that the text of the story is preserved and simply reinter-
preted; it is that the story itself, and the text that relates it, is wrong. In the words
of Ap. John “it is not as Moses said […]”.⁶¹ In one way, this is not really “exegesis”
at all: it is a more radical rejection of the status of the text(s) valued by others
and an attempt to replace them and/or rewrite the story they relate and imply.
A similar situation may be reflected in the Gospel of Judas. The story line in this
gospel is of course related to that in the canonical gospels with the narrative
placed in the time of the passion narrative of those gospels. Further it is possible
to identify and analyse possible parallels between the language of Gospel of
Judas and that of the canonical gospels.⁶² However, the basic aim of Gospel of
This (or a similar) phrase occurs four times in Ap. John: see NHC II, 13.19 – 21; 22.22– 24;
23.1– 4; 29.6 – 7, and see Christopher M. Tuckett, “Moses in Gnostic Writings”, in Moses in Biblical
and Extra-Biblical Traditions, ed. Axel Graupner and Michael Wolter, BZAW 372 (Berlin: de Gruyt-
er, 2007), 227– 40 for a more general discussion of the negative attitude to “Moses” in many
Gnostic writings.
Cf. Simon J. Gathercole, “Matthean or Lukan Priority? The Use of the NT Gospels in the Gos-
pel of Judas,” in Judasevangelium und Codex Tchacos: Studien zur religionsgeschichtlichen Veror-
tung einer gnostischen Schriftsammlung, ed. Gregor Wurst and Enno Popkes, WUNT 297 (Tübin-
gen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 291– 302.
Judas is probably not to provide any kind of “exegesis” of the texts of these gos-
pels. It is rather to provide an alternative account of the history which these gos-
pels tell. The aim is them to rewrite the story as it appears elsewhere and implic-
itly to correct it.
Such a stance may be evidenced elsewhere in the Nag Hammadi writings, for ex-
ample in the Trimorphic Protennoia (NHC XIII,1). Ever since its publication, strik-
ing similarities between this text and the Johannine prologue have been noted
and much discussed. These similarities are particularly noticeable in the third
section of the (three-part) text, with also parallels in the Pronoia hymn which
comes at the end of the long version of the Ap. John (NHC II 30.11– 31.31). The
precise relationship between the two texts has been debated strenuously. Early
discussions sought to argue that the Trimorphic Protennoia might be independ-
ent of John, and that the parallels between the two might be in a more natural
place in the Trimorphic Protennoia than in John’s prologue.⁶³ However, this latter
claim is now disputed.⁶⁴ Further, the broad history of the development of the tra-
dition is now widely accepted.⁶⁵ The Trimorphic Protennoia probably represents
a secondary reworking of the material in the Pronoia hymn in the Ap. John. Fur-
ther, while many Johannine elements in the Trimorphic Protennoia occur above
all in the third part of the text, it is very hard to identify any Johannine literary
connections with the Pronoia hymn.⁶⁶ It is thus most likely that the Johannine
connections arise out of a secondary, christianizing, process in the development
of the tradition as it has moved from the Pronoia hymn to that in the present text
of the Trimorphic Protennoia whereby the text of John was exploited and used by
the author of Trimorphic Protennoia.⁶⁷
The parallels between the Johannine prologue and the text of the Trimorphic
Protennoia have been set out several times and will not be repeated here.⁶⁸ There
is the common pattern of a three-fold manifestation/mission of the Protennoia
(in Trimorphic Protennoia or the Logos (in John 1), as well as many close verbal
links which, as noted, occur predominantly in the third part of the discourse
(where Protennoia is explicitly called the Logos).
What is striking in the present context is however the way in which these
links are developed and used in the text. There is no question of any “quotation”
of the text of the Johannine prologue in Trimorphic Protennoia The agreements
are at most at the level of “allusions” or “echoes”. But there seems to be no sug-
gestion that Trimorphic Protennoia is appealing to the Johannine prologue and/
or gospel to provide authority to back up its arguments. It may be quite the re-
verse: for what seems to be happening in this text is that the allusions or echoes
are being brought in precisely to undermine the ideas put forward in the Johan-
nine prologue (and perhaps the gospel as a whole).⁶⁹
This third section of the Trimorphic Protennoia. starts off with the clear
claim “I am the Logos”, after the claims in the other two sections “I am […]
the Thought” and “I am the Voice”, and the claim to be the (true?) Logos dom-
inates the wording of this section of the text (cf. 46.5, 14, 16, 30; 47.15). So too
there are frequent references to Logos-Protennoia being the Light (46.11, 16, 24;
47.29) which is not recognised by others (cf. John 1:4– 5, 10 – 11). However, in
more detail, it seems that this is not a case of simply taking up Johannine lan-
guage positively: it is also the case that the language is used in a completely dif-
ferent way and thereby undermines the fundamental claims of John’s gospel.
One of the most striking parallels with Johannine terminology is in 47.14– 17:
“The third time I revealed myself to them in their tents (ⲥⲕⲏⲛⲏ) as the Logos
and I revealed myself in the likeness of their shape. And I wore everyone’s gar-
ment and I hid myself from them, and they did not know the one who empowers
See e. g. Carsten Colpe, “Heidnische, jüdische and christliche Überlieferung in den Schriften
aus Nag Hannadi III,” JAC 17 (1974): 109 – 25, 122; Craig A. Evans, “On the Prologue of John and
the Trimorphic Protennoia,” NTS 27 (1981): 395 – 401, 397; Poirier, “Trimorphic Protennoia” (n.
65), 97– 99. Colpe talks of the “stupenden Parallelen”.
For this reading of Tri. Prot., see Jan Helderman, “‘In ihren Zelten …’ Bemerkungen bei
Codex XIII Nag Hammadi p. 47: 14– 18 im Hinblick auf Joh i 14,” in Miscelleana Neotestamentica
I, ed. Tjitze Baarda, Albertus F. J. Klijn and Willem C. van Unnik, NovTSup 47 (Leiden: Brill,
1978), 181– 211; Charles E. Hill, The Johannine Corpus in the Early Church (Oxford: Oxford Univer-
sity, 2004), 242– 8; John D. Turner, “The Gospel and Apocryhpon of John,” in The Legacy of John:
Second-Century Reception of the Fourth Gospel, ed. Tuomas Rasimus, NovTSup 132 (Leiden: Brill,
2009), 105 – 44, 122– 4 (and in many previous publications); Poirier, “Trimorphic Protennoia” (n.
65), 99 – 101.
me.” There are clear allusions to John 1:14, especially the parallel with the verb
ἐσκήνωσεν there. However, the meaning in Trimorphic Protennoia is entirely dif-
ferent from that in John: the Protennoia does not tabernacle in her own, but in
“their” tents – rather than implying a full identity between the Logos and the rest
of humanity (“became flesh”), the text here implies a totally docetic view (the
Logos-Protennoia is only in the “likeness” of their shape).⁷⁰
The assertion that “those who watch over their dwelling places did not rec-
ognize me” (50.15 – 17) is in one way parallel to John 1:5, 11; but the strong em-
phasis throughout Trimorphic Protennoia on the idea of the Protennoia coming
her “own” (“those who are mine”) who do receive her immediately provides a
powerful contrast with the claim of John 1:11 that the Logos came to “his own
and his own people did not receive him”. The possibly polemical nature of the
language may then make the bold claim of the Protennoia that “I alone am
the Logos, ineffable, incorruptible, immeasurable, inconceivable” (46.14– 15)
all the more significant if the Johannine prologue is lurking in the background
here.
The figure of Jesus is mentioned briefly at the end of the text, but in a way
which again gains in significance if the Johannine background is kept in mind: “I
put on Jesus. I bore him from the cursed wood, and established him in the dwell-
ing places of his Father” (50.13 – 15). This comes just after the assertion of the
Protennoia that she has proclaimed the Five Seals “in order that I might abide
in them and they also might abide in me” (cf. John 15:2), clearly claiming the
role of the Johannine Jesus for herself. But quite unlike the Son of Man figure
in John who is lifted up and glorified on the (redemptive) cross, and who prom-
ises that he will go ahead of the disciples to prepare “dwelling places” for them
(cf. John 14:2), the Logos-Protennoia here rescues Jesus from the “cursed” cross,
and then establishes him in the dwelling places of his Father: the figure of Jesus
thus becomes not so much the agent but the recipient of salvation.
At many points then, the author of Trimorphic Protennoia takes up Johan-
nine language but inverts it so that the text shows the total superiority of the
Logos-Protennoia over the Logos of more “orthodox” Johannine Christianity. Jo-
hannine tradition is thus adopted but it is not affirmed positively (at least in its
entirety): some parts are taken over and appropriated by the figure of the Logos-
Protennoia, but other parts are used to show that the account in John is funda-
mentally incorrect. As with the story of the crucifixion in Basilides and others,
Cf. Helderman, “In ihren Zelten” (n. 69), 206 – 7: “Hierbei ist in PT 47:14.15 die Pointe von Joh
i 14 absichtlich umgedeutet”; “dafür ist die Umdeutung zu bewusst polemisch im Hinblick auf
Joh i 14” (p. 208).
and the stories of the creation in the Jewish scriptures (“Moses”), the earlier tra-
dition is not affirmed but rather rejected.
See Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29), 87– 97; Pheme Perkins, “Johannine Traditions in Ap.Jas.
NHC (I, 2),” JBL 101 (1982): 403 – 14.
Cf. Ron D. Cameron, Sayings Traditions in the Apocryphon of James (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1984); Helmut Koester, Ancient Christian Gospels (London: SCM, 1990), 187– 200.
See Hill, Johannine Corpus (n. 69), 250 – 8; cf. too Judith Hartenstein & Uwe-Karsten Plisch, in
Antike christliche Apokryphen in deutscher Übersetzung I.2, ed. Christoph Markschies and Jens
Schröter (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012), 1097.
See especially Hill, Johannine Corpus (n. 69), 252, responding to Cameron.
“twelve” (apart from James and Peter) are regarded in negative terms. The Sav-
iour takes James and Peter aside and they alone receive the special revelation
recounted in the main part of the text. At the end, they come back and relate
what they have seen and heard to the others; they believe it initially, but are
then jealous of “those to be born” (i. e. other Gnostics who will receive this teach-
ing) and, as a result, are sent away by James elsewhere (16.1– 8). And James
alone goes up to Jerusalem to “obtain a portion among the beloved who will ap-
pear”. The other apostles are thus discredited, and by implication their writings
too; in any case their writings are shown to have already been written before the
revelation given in the text here and hence, by implication shown are to be in-
complete and inadequate.⁷⁵
A similar negative attitude to the other apostles, and perhaps their writings,
is shown elsewhere. As noted earlier, the text includes three, potentially “new”
parables of Jesus. However, it also lists a series of other parables by name
(8.6 – 10).⁷⁶ The precise identification of the parables listed here is debated,
but it seems likely that they are all parables known from the synoptic tradition.⁷⁷
But what is striking here is these are all regarded in a somewhat dismissive way:
“it was enough for some to listen to the teaching and understand [the parables
mentioned]” (8.4– 5). These seem to be what ordinary Christians receive, but now
contrasted with the extra revelation available through James and the text here
(including further parables given and expounded by the Saviour here). The au-
thor of the text may thus show knowledge of the synoptic tradition in some de-
tail. But the status of that tradition seems rather low-grade: the parables from
that tradition are not expounded, but are dismissed as those which others
think is “enough”, whereas those in the know have further revelations which
they have been given.⁷⁸
For a possible negative view of Peter as well in the text, see Donald Rouleau, L’épître apoc-
ryphe de Jacques (NH I, 2) (Québec: Les Presses de l’université Laval, 1987), 16 – 17: Peter is por-
trayed as blind, astonished, and failing to understand. Thus the implied polemic against the
other disciples is implicitly extended to Peter as well, leaving James alone as the sole “hero”
of the text.
“‘The Shepherds’ and ‘The Seed’ and ‘The Building’ and ‘The Lamps of the Virgins’ and ‘The
Wage of the Workmen’ and ‘The Didrachmae’ and ‘The Woman’”.
See Tuckett, Nag Hammadi (n. 29), 88 – 89.
Hence contra Pheme Perkins, Gnosticism and the New Testament (Minneapolis: Fortress,
1993), 72: “Apocryphon of James intends to evoke the authority of the canonical Gospels to bol-
ster the esoteric, gnostic teaching presented in the treatise.” The author here may allude to the
“authority” of the canonical gospels for some, but the overall thrust of his/her presentation
seems to be to call into question that authority.
So Perkins, “Johannine Traditions” (n. 78), 413, who may be using a slightly inaccurate trans-
lation (“Woe to those without a Paraclete”): see Hill, Johannine Corpus (n. 69), 255; also Rouleau,
Épître (n. 75), 124.
So e. g. Perkins, “Johannine Traditions” (n. 78), 411
Hill, Johannine Corpus (n. 69), 256. Cf. too Fred E. Williams in Nag Hammadi Codex I. Notes,
11: “The woe is directed against orthodox Christians, whose religion is founded on the canonical
Gospels.”
4 Conclusion
Such a negative attitude to the canonical gospels is perhaps not at all surprising.
Indeed one could argue that such an attitude is fundamental to the whole Gnos-
tic enterprise which claims to have access to hidden knowledge, and secret rev-
elation, which is not open to all. And for many Gnostics, this secret revelation
goes far beyond simply interpreting the texts which are publicly available in
the wider Christian community. A widely used genre for Gnostic writings is
that of a “revelation dialogue”, in which the Revealer (typically Jesus in a
post-resurrection scene) gives further instruction to his followers. In such a dia-
logue, the Saviour (or Revealer) does not expound earlier teaching and give its
interpretation; he gives new teaching that goes above and beyond what has
been said before. Any “exegesis” of earlier teaching (as recorded, for example,
in the canonical gospels) plays at most a very subsidiary role. One can perhaps
see this implicit claim, and the more “orthodox” rejoinder and complaint about
such a claim, in the dispute that comes at the end of the Gospel of Mary. In that
dispute, Andrew and Peter criticise Mary and the vision she has recounted, and
in return are (relatively mildly) rebuked by Levi. But certainly Andrew’s com-
plaint, and arguably the main thrust of Peter’s too, is that Mary’s revelation pro-
vides something that is new: Andrew says “these teachings seem to be giving dif-
ferent ideas” (17.14– 15), and Peter says “he did not speak with a woman without
our knowing, and not openly, did he?” (17.18 – 20). Although many have fastened
on the possible gender issues raised by Peter’s comment here, there is an equally
powerful motif, common to the words placed in the mouth of both Andrew and
Peter, complaining about the novelty, and the secret nature, of the teaching
given.⁸² And this is reflected too, in stronger terms, in the writings of someone
such as Irenaeus who claims that the “true” (“orthodox”) teaching can be
found in the publicly known and available documents of the church, supremely
in the four gospels, whereas the Gnostics use esoteric, secret traditions found in
other, not publicly accessible, texts (such as their “Gospel of Truth”: see above).
Many Gnostic writers evidently did know the canonical gospels, and echoes
of, and allusions to, the wording of those gospels slip out at various points (in
varying degrees in different writings). Sometimes it seems the wording of
those gospels provided the basis for the new teaching which Gnostic writers
wished to propound. We have seen this in relation to the parables (such as in
Gospel Truth), though the evidence for extensive use of the parables is not as
strong in the Gnostic texts themselves as one might expect from what is said
by the church fathers. At times too Gnostic writers were happy to take over the
wording of what had been said in earlier traditions and re-use it in their own
context; but even here there is very little explicit appeal to the authority of the
older tradition to give added status to what was said. But alongside this was
an equally strong concerted effort at times to rewrite the story from the canonical
gospels and implicitly to undermine its status (cf. above on the accounts of the
crucifixion). In this, the earlier tradition is no longer respected as authoritative
with an alternative (“correct”) interpretation now provided; rather, the tradition
itself is questioned – even if at times, with some powerful irony, the tradition it-
self can be used to question the authority of those who have claimed status for it
(see above on the Apocryphon of James).