Gnosticism and Christianity

When Familiar Words Begin to Mean Something Else

We can overlook false teaching because it doesn’t always sound false.

Sometimes it sounds remarkably familiar. It talks about God, Jesus, spirit, light, truth, knowledge, mystery, and salvation. We recognize the words and assume we recognize the message. But what happens when familiar words begin to mean something different?

That question takes us into early Christianity and the ideas that eventually became associated with what we call Gnosticism. The term itself comes from the Greek word γνῶσις (gnōsis), meaning “knowledge.” But Gnosticism was never about knowing things. Various movements developed around claims concerning special or higher knowledge, the nature of the material world, the human condition, God, and Jesus Christ.

We need to be careful here. No single first-century organization called “Gnosticism” had a headquarters, a statement of faith, or a membership roll. The systems historians identify as Gnostic become much clearer in the second century. We should not label every opponent confronted by Paul or John a “Gnostic.” And we should not ignore the similarities when they begin to appear, and that’s where the trail becomes interesting.

Paul and Knowledge: That Was Not Knowledge!

Paul gives us an intriguing statement near the end of First Timothy: “Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you, avoiding irreverent and empty speech and contradictions from what is falsely called knowledge” (First Timothy 6:20). The Greek word translated “knowledge” is gnōsis.

Paul was not condemning knowledge itself. He was warning Timothy about something being presented as knowledge that Paul considered false, and that distinction matters.

Something can sound intelligent, sophisticated, mysterious, or spiritually profound and be wrong.

Paul’s Letter to the Colossians, for example, gives us another glimpse of the problem. He warns believers: “Be careful that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deceit based on human tradition, based on the elements of the world, rather than Christ” (Colossians 2:8).

He goes on to address regulations concerning what people handle, taste, and touch, along with ascetic practices, visions, and matters concerning angels (Colossians 2:18–23).

And right in the middle of that discussion, Paul says something that should make us stop: “For the entire fullness of God’s nature dwells bodily in Christ” (Colossians 2:9).

𝗕𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗹𝘆? Why emphasize that?

Hold onto that question because John is about to make it even more interesting.

But first, there is another statement from Paul that belongs in this investigation:

“Therefore I want you to know that no one speaking by the Spirit of God says, Jesus is cursed,’ and no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit” (First Corinthians 12:3).

That is a statement. Paul does not tell us that someone studies long enough, becomes intelligent enough, discovers enough mysteries, or acquires enough secret knowledge and eventually figures out that Jesus is Lord.

The Holy Spirit testifies to who Jesus is. That does not mean Christians suddenly understand everything correctly. Peter did not. Neither did the Corinthians. We remain human, capable of misunderstanding, stubbornness, poor judgment, and mistakes.

But the confession remains: 𝗝𝗲𝘀𝘂𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝗿𝗱.

Now follow that trail into John.

John Watched People Leave

John writes: “Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God” (First John 4:2, CSB).

There it is. 𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗲𝘀𝗵.

Then John says it again: “Many deceivers have gone out into the world; they do not confess the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh” (Second John 7).

Why the emphasis upon flesh? Something was said about Jesus that required John to insist upon the reality of His coming in the flesh. And then John gives us one of the most troubling statements in this entire investigation: “They went out from us, but they did not belong to us…” (First John 2:19).

Read that slowly. 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘂𝘀.

These were not merely philosophers arguing somewhere outside the Christian communities.

People were leaving. They had been among the believers. They knew Christian language. They had heard about Jesus. Yet something was drawing them somewhere else.

That helps explain why John repeatedly brings his readers back to what they had heard “from the beginning” (First John 2:7, 24; 3:11).

John does not tell them to chase every new mystery that appears, but to remain in what they heard from the beginning.

That becomes important when another teacher uses the same vocabulary.

Jesus; God; Spirit; Truth; Light; Salvation; and Knowledge.

This is no longer a simple question: “Does this person talk about Jesus?” It becomes: 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗛𝗶𝗺?

Paul says Jesus is Lord. John insists Jesus Christ came in the flesh. And then the apostles begin passing from the scene. Did the problem disappear?

Not at all.

Enter Polycarp

Polycarp of Smyrna takes us close to the generation of the apostles.

Irenaeus, who remembered hearing Polycarp when he was young, later wrote that Polycarp had been instructed by apostles and had spoken with people who had seen Christ. Whatever questions historians may ask about the precise contours of those relationships, Irenaeus regarded Polycarp as an important living connection with the earlier apostolic generation.

And listen to what Polycarp himself wrote: “For everyone who does not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is an Antichrist.”

Does that sound familiar? It should.

John had said: “Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God” (First John 4:2, CSB).

The language has crossed into the next generation.

𝗝𝗲𝘀𝘂𝘀 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗲𝘀𝗵.

What Paul and John were confronting did not simply disappear after their deaths. By Polycarp’s lifetime, competing teachings concerning God, creation, Christ, the material world, and salvation were becoming increasingly identifiable.

And Polycarp was not shy about them. Irenaeus tells a memorable story concerning Polycarp and Marcion.

Marcion was a controversial second-century Christian teacher who sharply separated the God revealed in Israel’s Scriptures from the Father proclaimed by Jesus and rejected substantial portions of the Scriptures received by other Christians.

According to Irenaeus, Marcion encountered Polycarp and asked: “Do you know me?” Polycarp did. His answer was: 𝗜 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂—𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗻.

Well… nobody had to wonder where Polycarp stood.

The story comes to us through Irenaeus, not from Polycarp’s own pen, and we should preserve that distinction. But Irenaeus’s reason for telling the story is revealing.

Polycarp understood that something had been entrusted to the churches. It was not his message to improve. It was not John’s message to reinvent. And it was not Paul’s message to modify whenever another philosophy sounded more sophisticated. They had received something, and they were expected to remain faithful to it.

When Familiar Words Are No Longer Enough

Now look back across the trail.

Paul cautioned against the dangers of false knowledge. He openly acknowledged Jesus as the Lord. John firmly asserted that Jesus Christ had come in the flesh. John observed people leaving. Polycarp continued to insist on Christ’s physical coming. By Polycarp’s generation, the competing voices had distinct names and teachings. This is why false teaching can be so challenging to identify.

It does not always walk through the door announcing 𝗜 𝗔𝗠 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚.

Sometimes it talks about Jesus, sometimes it talks about God, sometimes it talks about spirit, truth, light, salvation, mysteries, and knowledge, and sometimes it sounds deeper than the simple message handed down from the beginning.

That brings us to human responsibility.

Cain Heard the Warning

Long before Paul, John, Polycarp, or the controversies of the early Church, God spoke to Cain: “If you do what is right, won’t you be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it” (Genesis 4:7, CSB).

Cain was warned. But God did not make Cain obey; Cain had to decide what to do with what God had told him. What he did was not listen. After Abel was murdered and God confronted Cain, Cain responded: “Am I my brother’s guardian?” (Genesis 4:9).

There is something in that story we should not pass by quickly. God spoke. God warned. Cain heard. Cain remained responsible for what he did next.

That human problem did not disappear when Jesus came or when the Holy Spirit was given.

The Holy Spirit testifies that 𝗝𝗲𝘀𝘂𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝗿𝗱. But we have to listen.

That does not mean every misunderstanding causes someone to depart from the faith. We are human, and misunderstandings are part of learning. Peter misunderstood. The Corinthians misunderstood. Even people sincerely following Christ sometimes require correction.

The danger comes somewhere else: 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗚𝗼𝗱’𝘀 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗚𝗼𝗱’𝘀 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀. That is where another voice can begin sounding more attractive than the one we were given from the beginning.

The Question Remains

We can listen to what God has given us, or we can reshape Scripture until it says something we would rather hear.

We can remain with what was handed down from the beginning, or follow another voice because its explanation sounds deeper, more enlightened, more mysterious, or more appealing.

Paul warned.; John warned.; Polycarp warned.

Nearly two thousand years later, the warning may not have changed much, and before following someone because their teaching sounds profound, mysterious, ancient, enlightened, new, or even Christian, we should ask a simple question: 𝗜𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗝𝗲𝘀𝘂𝘀 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁?

And when Scripture gives us the answer, another question follows: 𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻?