LIFE AND WORK

The original Greek text of Irenaeus' Against heresies is found only in fragmentary form, while a complete Latin translation prepared about the year 380 has survived. There are three early manuscripts of the Latin translation, the oldest of which (Claromontanus) dates from the tenth or eleventh century. The others are later (Leydensis, Arundelianus). Erasmus' editio princeps of Irenaeus (1526) contains some readings not represented by any of these three manuscripts and the sources from which his variants may derive have since disappeared. Useful editions of Against heresies have subsequently been prepared by Massuet, Stieren and Harvey. The recent edition by Rousseau, Doutreleau and others (Sources Chrétiennes) supersedes earlier editions.

Eusebius mentions another work by Irenaeus, The demonstration of the apostolic preaching, known since 1907 in a sixth-century Armenian version. Lost works include the Letter to Florinus (also known as Concerning the sole rule of God, or that God is not the author of evil), On the Ogdoad, an attack on the Valentinian Ogdoad, which presents primitive apostolic tradition, On schism, addressed to Blastus and On knowledge, a refutation of paganism. Irenaeus intended (but did not produce) a work against Marcion (3.12.12). His writings all date from the last two decades of the second century.

Most early theologians were travellers, but their movements and teachers are not always certain.

Irenaeus' account of the divine Intellect declares God's undivided unity and universal goodness. It ends with the distinction between God who makes and man who is made, between God who does good and man to whom good is done. Man, found in God, will always be advancing to God. This movement defines the economy of salvation which begins with creation.

Creation is a difficult concept, for it uses the notion of causation outside the process of the world whence that notion derives and wherein it makes sense. We speak of causes in order to understand the relation between parts of the world; to lift the idea outside the world and apply it to the undifferentiated whole is a strange move, rather like asking, ‘Is this man a foot?’ Yet the question ‘Why does anything exist?’ has long been taken seriously. Monotheism, especially in its Judaeo-Christian form, declares God to be sole cause of all that is.

How can sense be made of this kind of causation?

TWO ANALOGIES—WISE ARCHITECT AND SOVEREIGN KING

The making of a universe differs from the making of a cake, yet accounts of creation commonly set out steps which are more culinary than conceptual. Irenaeus begins with two images which have been used to relate the world to one first cause. The architect/builder produces order from disorder. The monarch/magician produces by word, will and power. The two images may conflict – one presupposes matter and the other does not.

God makes, man is made. As wise architect and sovereign king, God creates from nothing all that is, ordering opposites by his artistry. His plan unites disparate elements from creation to Christ.

Participation in God runs through truth (logic), glory (aesthetics), life (anthropology) and goodness (ethics).

We share in his truth by faith, reason (ch. 7) and the world of prophetic images (ch. 8). We achieve beauty in the light of his glory (ch. 9). We share in his life by the breath and enlivening spirit which he gives (ch. 10). We participate in his goodness by loving those who wrong us (ch. 11).

Irenaeus' anthropology, his optimism for man, has long excited enthusiasm. At the Renaissance he inspired Erasmus. In the twentieth century he gave fuel to those who, like Teilhard de Chardin, were driven by science to see man's evolution to Christ as the Omega point. The dogma of original sin was to be discarded and there was hope for all. On examination, however, Irenaeus proved more complex. The great theme of man as the image of God seemed to lack cohesion. Sin was still an awesome evil. How could divine spirit be mixed with body and soul? Through it all Irenaeus argued his way to the triumph of resurrection and life eternal. He holds our attention because of his passionate enthusiasm that mortal man should participate in the life of God. Controversy has centred on four problems: image and likeness, sin and fall, breath and spirit of God, flesh and spirit.

IMAGE AND LIKENESS: THE PUZZLE

The terminology of image and likeness was widely present in Greek philosophy from Plato to the Stoics. Here man's rational principle was the image of God, and likeness to God was acquired by perfection of this reason. Early Christian writers changed this and defined perfection by the gift of the divine spirit and salvation (4.20.6).

Recapitulation restores the divine image and likeness which was lost in Adam. Likeness to God is found in the incarnate word of God (dem. 32; 3.18.1), the image from which the creation of man was taken (dem. 22).

Irenaeus' demand for truth and reason is joined by his sense of perception. He is visually oriented (homme du ‘voir’). From the beginning we have found in Irenaeus the two criteria of truth and fitness, the logical and the aesthetic. Participation in truth, through the rule, ended in consonantia, a harmony at once logical and aesthetic, while the truth of scripture was governed by a rebirth of images. In this chapter we shall review the persistence of the aesthetic criterion, then note how a modern theologian used Irenaeus to support his claim that theology should be aesthetic rather than logical. Early Christian art echoes the imagery of Irenaeus. The manifestation of God enables participation in divine beauty. The vision of divine glory brings participation in life.

PERSISTENCE OF AESTHETICS

A rapid recall of earlier chapters indicates the persistence of perception in the thought of Irenaeus. When he speaks of his youth and Polycarp, he explains how visual and aural memories persist in the mind. He can go back to encounters with Polycarp with a clear recollection of where the master was teaching, how he spoke, and what he said. The freshness of the image underlines his power of perception. On the other hand, Irenaeus' objection to gnosis is linked, from the beginning, to the need for vision and light. Despite the visionary qualities of Valentinus, his followers love the darkness and wish to remain unseen. Irenaeus is concerned to spread light and to uncover what is hidden.

Any book on Irenaeus will have a reluctant conclusion, for his ideas and images go on and there is always something new to be seen. The apparent confusions in his thought (doctor confusus) may be overcome by conceptual stamina or poetic imagination. Yet his daily immersion in the bible (2.27.1) piles image upon image, thought upon thought (doctor constructivus). Our paths through the Irenaean jungle do not deny exuberance, but give strength to his claim that scripture is a garden where every fruit is to be eaten (5.20.2). This chapter will show how these paths merge in his dynamic humanism, his creative use of argument and imagery, his optimism and, through participation, his sense of the immediacy of God.

HUMANISM: SAVING THE SELF

Irenaeus has a sense of order which is common to the culture of the West, but adds to it a fresh zest. He enriches classical humanism with a joy in the human condition and an admiration for man. His God is the good shepherd who rejoices in the work of salvation. Gnostics, with their denigration of creation, are in his opinion atheists. The wonder of God the creator and of man the creature go together, for the glory of God is man fully alive (4.20.7) and God is the glory of man who receives his wisdom and power (3.20.2).

Irenaeus deepened the classical tradition by the value which he placed on the human self.

The divine economy is not an abstract composition. It is the way in which the wise architect and sovereign king disposed the salvation of mankind. This disposition reflects a firmer reality within the events which are scattered around and within it. This reality is nothing less than the mind of God, seen by the prophets, and Irenaeus' answer to Platonic forms or geometry. The pattern of the supreme disposer is not found in abstraction, but in the artistry of certain events woven together in time and place. It must not be confused with the narrower and less subtle concept of salvation as the mighty acts of God.

In Greek literature, the use of oikonomia (οἰκονομία) moved from domestic to political economy, from the management of a household to the management of a city (Aristotle, Politics 3.1285b). It became a common Hellenistic word for good administration or purposeful arrangement. Ephesians links it with the hidden divine purpose for the salvation of man (Eph. 1:9–12) and the realisation and revelation of that purpose (Eph. 3:2–11). Paul speaks of stewards, oikonomoi, who administered the mysteries of God (1 Cor. 4:1–2). The Stoics are the first to use oikonomia for God and the universe (SVF 2.945, 273). For them everything has purpose and place within a world of conflict and contradictions. Oikonomia produces sympatheia to facilitate life according to nature (SVF 3.582). Beyond theology and philosophy, oikonomia is an important word for architecture (Vitruvius, De arch. 1.2.1).

GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS

While the differences between so-called ‘Gnostic’ groups present a permanent problem, there have been useful and concise accounts. Gnosticism is ‘a doctrine of redemption, which appeared among Christians and pagans in late antiquity’. Six common characteristics of various types of Gnosticism have been claimed:

1. a cosmic dualism, according to which the world is evil and ruled by evil powers. Matter and spirit are sharply opposed, but all things fall under the dominion of one or the other;

2. a clear distinction between the most-high, unknown God, and the God who created this world, usually identified with the creator God of the old testament;

3. some humans are naturally like God, bearing a spark of heavenly light, although their body belongs to an evil world;

4. the human condition and desire for freedom are explained by a myth of a pre-cosmic fall;

5. humans are liberated by knowledge of their true nature and heavenly origin;

6. only an elect few have the spiritual seed which determines by its presence or absence the destiny and the moral choices of each person.

Today even such a summary has been questioned; earlier generalisations are challenged and replaced by other vulnerable claims, which may be set out briefly. It may be argued that exegesis by Gnostics was not governed by a pattern of protest or reversal; that their ideas were not parasitic; that as a group, they were averse neither to the body nor to the world, neither ascetic nor libertine, neither determinist nor elitist.

God is the universal, omnipotent intelligence, from whom nothing is hidden, who knows our needs before we ask him and who shows his goodness and love on every side.

We have seen that the rule and apostolic preaching look to scripture for reciprocal demonstration. The bible is the highest source of truth because the prophets were inspired of God. Their visions take the place of Platonic forms and depict the mind and will of God. Just as Alcinous found the criterion of truth in the world of forms rather than in a formula of one line, so the Christian rule of faith expands to a brief statement of scriptural claims behind which lies the universe of biblical imagery. Prophecy moves from future reference to present reality as illuminated by a rebirth of biblical images. These images unite the bible as the divine source of truth in which the believer participates.

Irenaeus provides the first clear evidence of a Christian bible, although his ‘new testament’ is not yet a document (4.9.1). He has a central concern for right use of the scripture (5.20.2) and is commonly contrasted with the Alexandrian fathers because he gave less importance to the place of philosophy and stayed closer to biblical categories. Against heresies draws extensively on new testament writings, mainly Gospels and Acts of the Apostles, then the sayings of the lord and the Epistles of Paul.

Much has been written on Irenaeus' interpretation of the bible. He extols the bible as the measure of truth (2.28.1), perfect because from God (2.28.2), ordered and coherent (1.8.1), and never without meaning (4.31.1).

In this second part of the book, we shall be focusing our attention on four key sections of the Gospel of John which concern the relationship between Jesus and God: the prologue and chapters 5, 8 and 10. However, before proceeding to our treatment of this theme, we need to consider one particular issue relating to the Jewish background that is often posited for these Johannine controversy passages. There has been a tendency in recent scholarship to read the Fourth Gospel in light of the evidence in rabbinic literature concerning heretics who claimed that ‘there are two powers in heaven’. This has been a helpful contribution, inasmuch as it has highlighted the fact that Johannine Christianity should be regarded as part of a much wider stream of Jewish thought which later orthodoxy excluded from its definition of Judaism. Alan Segal's study of this topic has shown that the ideas which the later rabbis polemicized against and rejected were probably widespread in first-century Judaism. However, he moves too quickly from the justified conclusion that the ideas were widespread in the New Testament period, to the much more hypothetical conclusion that the ideas were already considered heretical in the first century.

Segal refers to a number of dialogues and discussions in the rabbinic literature which are attributed to tannaitic rabbis, as evidence of the views held during this period. However, there is apparently no passage whatsoever in the Mishnah that Segal could cite as mentioning the ‘two powers’ heresy.

The following study seeks to understand Paul's letter to the Philippians as an ancient letter of consolation (ἐιστoλή παραμυθητική). It requires little by way of introduction, except perhaps to alert the reader (1) to the difference between the ancient and modern notions of consolation and (2) to the working definition of genre that has been assumed.

According to modern usage there is little difference, if any, between consolation and sympathy. To console someone is for all practical purposes to sympathize with them in their loss. But the ancient Greeks and Romans carefully distinguished between these terms. Ancient consolers were by no means unsympathetic to those afflicted with grief; however, they understood their primary task to be not one of sharing in the grief of others, but one of removing that grief by rational argument and frank exhortation. Plutarch expresses the typical sentiment:

In extreme cases ancient consolation even took the form of open rebuke, as when Seneca upbraids Marullus:

We shall discuss the ancient notion of consolation in more detail below in chapter 3. At this point, however, the reader should be aware that this study employs the term consolation throughout in the ancient sense of combating grief through rational means.