Protestant Gnosticism Reconsidered

Philip J. Lee
In Against the Protestant Gnostics (1987), I argued that The fact that in
Gnosticism, an ever-recurring heresy within Christianity, 2004 the
was resurfacing in modern guise within North American
profession of a
Protestantism. Two decades later, Gnostic characteristics
within Protestant Christianity have reached proportions private faith was
that I could not have imagined, and have affected the so much more
social and political fabric of the United States in ways acceptable to the
that I could not have predicted. popular media
From a sociological point of view, there has been in the (and perhaps later
United States a near triumph of innovative Christianity. The rapid growth of
to the electorate)
megachurches, the phenomenal advance of various cults, the success of
entertainment religious programming on radio and television-all witness to the self- than was a
created energy of a do-it-yourself form of the Christian religion. Anyone familiar with traditional
the history of the church and the Gnostic threat to Christian orthodoxy must be awarestatement of faith
of the old Gnostic drumbeat of me, me, me resonating across the land. From the halls and how it affects
of Liberty University to the Oval Office itself, this vigorous and creative religion has ethical choices is a
carried the day.
cogent example of
A moment during the third presidential debate of the 2004 election provides a clear
illustration of the contrast between this innovative form of religion and historical where we have
Christianity. (1) Toward the end of the debate, CBS anchor Bob Schieffer addressed come as a culture.
President Bush with these words: "You were asked before the invasion, or after the
invasion, of Iraq if you'd checked with your dad. And I believe, I don't remember the quote exactly, but I
believe you said you had checked with a higher authority. I would like to ask you, what part does your faith
play on your policy decisions?" Bush responded:
First, my faith plays a lot-a big part in my life. And that, when I was answering that question, what
I was really saying to the person was that I pray a lot. And I do. And my faith is a very-it's very
personal....Somebody asked me one time, 'Well, how do you know?' I said, 'I just feel it.'...When I
make decisions, I stand on principle, and the principles are derived from who I am....The principles
that I make decisions on, are part of me, and religion is part of me.
By contrast, Senator Kerry answered the same question by referring to Christ's summary of the law that he
was taught in church and parochial school. Regardless of one's politics, the justification for different views was
radically different and the favorable press favored the president's passionate inwardness over the senator's
appeal to authority.
Following the debate, the media were almost unanimous in praising President Bush's response to the question
and in ridiculing Senator Kerry's response. The president, they said, was sincere and passionate about his faith
while the senator was merely answering the question by rote. Whatever the outcome of the debate had been
in answer to other questions of the moderator, there was no doubt that the president had won the religious
question hands down.
A close look at the contrast between the two answers shows President Bush's religion to be almost entirely
personal, having to do with a private relationship with God that goes beyond public scrutiny. He prays a lot,
and his religion is authenticated by his feelings. Although the president's answer is, no doubt, sincere, it has
very little connection to what has historically been considered Christianity.
Even a few decades ago, Protestant Christians might have recognized in the senator's statement a confession
close to the biblical faith. The fact that in 2004 the profession of a private faith was so much more acceptable
to the popular media (and perhaps later to the electorate) than was a traditional statement of faith and how it
affects ethical choices is a cogent example of where we have come as a culture.
In Against the Protestant Gnostics, I identified several characteristics of Gnosticism and contrasted them with
the characteristics of what I called "ordinary" or "historical" Christianity: (2) knowledge that saves versus
knowledge of the mighty acts; an alienated humanity versus the good creation; salvation through escape
versus salvation through pilgrimage; the knowing self versus the believing community; a spiritual elite versus
ordinary people; selective syncretism versus particularity. It is not possible in this article to go into the
rationale behind these various contrasts. I will, however, demonstrate the changes that have occurred in the
past 20 years by looking at them in the context of these same categories.
Escapism vs. Pilgrimage
All Christians, of course, depend upon knowledge. There is a legitimate Christian gnosis. In 1987, I argued that
whereas ordinary Christians consider the essential knowledge of the faith having to do with YAHWEH's mighty
acts in the covenant with Israel and the new covenant with Christ's church, a large proportion of North
American Christians have been fixated on a knowledge having to do with a saving formula.
Historical Christian "know-ing" would have to do with the stories of Abraham and Sarah, Moses, David, Ruth,
and all the other protagonists of the Old Testament drama, as well as with the central-for-Christians story of
Jesus, from his birth to his resur-rection and ascension. Christ-ian knowledge would also include the theological
and practical wisdom of the Epistles, the miraculous history of the earliest church as recorded in the Acts of
the Apostles, and the strange but beautiful poetry of the Apocalypse. Historical Protestantism professes a
belief in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit-as known (revealed) in these various parts of the Bible.
On the other hand, the knowledge that I have described as Gnostic has to do with a special knowledge, a
spiritual insight, which provides access to a given formula for salvation. If certain ideas are held and certain
feelings are felt, if one has been "born again" in a manner in harmony with a peculiarly North American
Christian culture, that person can be saved. Saving knowledge, according to this formula, is not about what
God has accomplished, but rather about what the believer has accomplished in a psychological and emotional
sense.
I pointed out that those two types of knowledge have been present in North American Protestantism for quite
awhile, possibly since our European ancestors brought Christianity to these shores. What I did not realize in
1987 was that Christianity as a "knowledge which saves," a process for self-redemption, would become the
accepted religious norm. What I have described as ordinary Christianity has, in the eyes of the media and the
general public, become passé and irrelevant. The public reaction to discussion of religion in the 2004
presidential debate is a clear example of this development.
An Alienated Humanity vs. the Good Creation
In 1987, I argued that many Protestants on both extremes of the theological spectrum were in despair about
the human condition itself and even about the creation. I noted that this despair and feeling of alienation
emanated from a series of tragic events in the 1960s and 1970s: the assassinations of a president, a
presidential candidate, and a prominent black clerical leader, followed by a failed Vietnam War and the scandal
of Watergate.
Fourteen years after my book, the destruction of the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001, added a new
dimension to that despair. Christian leaders asked openly in the various media, "How could a loving God allow
this unjust calamity to take place-on American soil, to our own people?" For many Christians, the catastrophe
of 9/11 has led to the profound fear of a nebulous and spiritualized enemy-Terror.
Salvation through Escape vs. Salvation through Pilgrimage
Despair, alienation, and fear can, quite naturally, lead to the desire to escape. In Against the Protestant
Gnostics, I illustrated various ways in which American Protestantism had become escapist-drawn toward the
otherworldly, repelled by the limitations not only of sinful existence, but even of human existence itself. I
contrasted this escapist tendency with the less compelling concept of Christian pilgrimage. The pilgrimage,
which is the "ordinary" Christian's journey toward salvation, involving "many dangers, toils and snares,"
requires a continuing confession that "we have left undone those things which we ought to have done and
done those things which we ought not to have done." The pilgrimage depends on constant nourishment
through Word, sacrament, and prayer and recognizes the likelihood that we will end our earthly sojourn not like
Elijah, carried off by a band of angels, but like our Lord, crucified (with him), dead and buried. Rather than
longing for an escape from this world, ordinary Christians adhere to the words of the Nicene Creed: we "look
for the resurrection of the dead: and the life of the world to come." Ordinary Protestants recall Jesus' prayer for
his people: "I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one"
(John 17:15).
Since 1987, there has been a near triumph of escapist Christianity. For example, Tim La Haye's Left Behind
series of novels about "the Rapture" depicts escape for "born-again" Christians through a cataclysmic event
that whisks them out of this sinful world, leaving nonbelievers behind to cope with airplanes without pilots and
automobiles without drivers. The Left Behind series has sold more than 65 million copies, making it the most
popular literature on our continent.
La Haye has been well received by and has developed close ties with some prominent Protestant evangelicals
such as the late Jerry Falwell, and has even entered the political arena by endorsing Mike Huckabee, an
enthusiastic fan of the Left Behind series, in his bid for the Republican nomination for president. What had at
one time been a minority position among Protestants-a radical millennialism, with its dread-filled expectation
of impending doom-has now become quite respectable in certain Protestant circles.
Left Behind is only one of the many escape routes being offered to Christians in our time. For example, popular
television evangelist Benny Hinn teaches Christians how to be happy and how to make money. Creflo and Taffi
Dollar offer their TV and radio audiences "blessing explosions" and methods for creating the successful lives
they want. These escape routes are ways to avoid the pilgrimage-the hard tasks demanded by the disciples of
the cross.
The Knowing Self vs. the Believing Community
In 1987, I noted that in North America an emphasis on the individual's response to the gospel was replacing
historical Protestantism's focus on the gospel itself. John Calvin warned against the tendency "to combine a
man's thoughts so much to himself," refusing to look outside of himself in faith to God and to his neighbor in
love (Theological Treatises XX, p. 228).
Whereas, in 1987, I recognized a self-centered faith as a growing phenomenon, 20 years later, the Gnostic
religion of self appears to have taken over both right-wing and left-wing religious camps in North America. The
religious right, which has had an overwhelming influence on the political scene in the U.S., is concerned
entirely with the individual's "personal relationship with Jesus Christ." The resulting political thrust has been
one of very little social and environmental concern.
On the other hand, among left-wing Protestants, there seems to be a general consensus that "religion is a very
personal thing," having nothing to do with corporate life or public behavior. Christianity is acceptable so long
as it is unrecognizable and innocuous, so personal that it does not show. The only authentic society for this
religious camp is a secular society. Thus, contemporary Protestantism, at both ends of the spectrum, appears
to have become a faith that is all about me.
A Spiritual Elite vs. Ordinary People
In Against the Protestant Gnostics, I pointed out in an affinity between ancient Gnosticism's elitist tendency
and that found among certain Protestants. I especially noticed a spiritual elitism in those who separated
themselves from ordinary Christians by claiming they had been "born again" in a way not covered by ordinary
baptism. I also pointed to an intellectual elitism among some liberal Protestants, who put themselves in a more
respectable category than ordinary Christians who still rely on the biblical stories, the creeds, and the
sacraments of the ancient church.
One of the most alarming developments of the last two decades has been the near triumph of this elitist
expression of Christianity. What has changed is that among the media and in the popular consciousness, this
form of religion is the only form that matters. Those who insist on describing themselves as born again in a
fashion different from ordinary baptized Christians have now become synonymous in the popular mind with the
"real" Christians. Sometimes they are called "church-goers," as if no one else goes to church, or "believers," as
though no one else believes.
Another elitist group, those who attack traditional Christianity-who consider themselves far too learned to
accept what they consider an outmoded form of the faith-is also taken seriously. The Jesus Movement, Bishop
Spong, and various Gnostic enthusiasts among feminist theologians are also taken seriously. What does not
even appear on the radar screen of the contemporary North American consciousness is the ordinary historic
faith of ordinary believers.
Selective Syncretism vs. Particularity
My argument 20 years ago was that when religion becomes a do-it-yourself thing centered on the self, almost
anything goes. When the particularity of the Cross has been replaced by Gnostic day dreams, all sorts and
conditions of faith and action take over. I said then that in North America we were moving toward a spiritual
mélange in which almost any ingredient is allowed. What is not allowed would be a Christian faith based on the
particularity of Jesus Christ the Lord: his birth, his life, his teachings, his healings, his death on Golgotha, his
resurrection, and his ascension to the Father. That particularity, what St. Paul called the "scandal of the Cross"
(Gal. 5:11), would not be tolerated within a neo-Gnostic faith.
As it turns out, the development I described in 1987 has all but come to pass over 20 years later. We see an
endorsement by the religious right of preemptive war and even of inhumane torture, positions diametrically
opposed to those of historical Christianity. On the Gnostic left, we see not only a disdain for the New Testament
account of the life of Jesus, but also a challenge to the very historical existence of Jesus. At the same time that
we have experienced a rejection of the particularity of a Christ-centered gospel and its inescapable demands
on its followers, we have witnessed the promotion of the more attractive, self-centered gospels of second-
century Gnosticism. We are told that the gospels of Mary, Thomas, and Judas correct the constricting, Christ-
focused agenda of ordinary Christianity.
The present orthodoxy seems to be that there is no such thing as heresy; my belief, so long as it is sincere, is
as acceptable as the next fellow's. If The DaVinci Code claims that the New Testament is a fraudulent
document invented by the early church for its own nefarious purposes, well, why not? Syncretism has
apparently carried the day.
All this may sound terribly discouraging for ordinary Christians. Perhaps the picture I am painting is too dark. I
hope so. To my mind, however, the scene is discouraging only if it goes unrecognized or if ordinary Christians
give up the struggle.
We have on our side the strong weapons of faith. All we are lacking is the courage and the trust to employ
them. These are not self-created weapons; they are gifts from the Lord to his church. This struggle is not about
us versus them; it is about the glory of God. Our weapons are still the Holy Scriptures, the preaching of the
Word, the ministration of the sacraments, the historic creeds, pastoral care for the faithful, the communion of
saints, and prayer.
How to employ these weapons in an age of Gnostic ascendancy is another question. But recognition of the
formidable opposition we face would seem to be the first task.
WORKS CITED
Calvin, John. Theological Treatises XX. In Library of Christian Classics, ed. and trans. J. K. S. Reid. Philadelphia:
Westminster Press, 1954.
Commission on Presidential Debates. The Third Bush-Kerry Presidential Debate (13 October 2004), http://www.
debates.org/pages/trans2004d.html.
Lee, Philip J. Against the Protestant Gnostics. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.

1 [ Back ] I am using a section from the debate to illustrate this contrast, not to make a political statement.
2 [ Back ] I use the words "ordinary" and "historical" to describe Protestants who follow a classic or traditional
form of this faith. The term "orthodox," meaning "proper praise," is probably a better word. "Orthodox,"
however, has a connotation of rigidity and of the static that I do not wish to convey.

Issue: "The New Spiritualities" May/June Vol. 17 No. 3 2008 Pages 37-40
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