Refutation of All Heresies 7 part 1/3

The following are the contents of the seventh book of the Refutation of All Heresies:

What is the opinion of Basilides, and how, being struck with astonishment at the doctrines of Aristotle, he constructed his heresy out of them.

And what Saturnilus, who flourished at the same time as Basilides, teaches.

How Menander undertook to say that the world was made by angels.

What is the desperate folly of Marcion, and how his doctrine is not new, nor from the holy scriptures, but happens to be that of Empedocles.

How Carpocrates talks vain nonsense, he too asserting that things that exist were made by angels.

How Cerinthus constructed his opinion not at all from the scriptures, but from what seemed [good] to the Egyptians.

What are the views held by the Ebionites, and how they adhere rather to Jewish customs.

How Theodotus also has gone astray, gleaning some things from the Ebionites, <and some from Cerinthus>.

And what seemed [right] to Cerdo, who himself also spoke the doctrines of Empedocles, and wickedly led Marcion forward [into error].

And how Lucian, having become a disciple of Marcion, likewise ventured shamelessly to blaspheme God.

That Apelles too, having become a disciple of <Marcion>, did not hold the same doctrines as his teacher, but, moved by natural [philosophical] doctrines, postulated the substance of the universe.

Seeing that the doctrines of the heretics resemble a sea tossed about by the violence of winds, hearers ought to sail past them, seeking their own proper harbour. For such a sea is both full of monsters and hard to traverse, as one might say of the Sicilian sea, in which the Cyclops and Charybdis and Scylla are fabled to dwell, and also the mountain of the Sirens -- past which the Greek poets say Odysseus sailed, cunningly making use of countermeasures against the terrible cunning of those strange beasts; for the savagery of these toward those who sailed by differed from one to another.

The Sirens, singing clear and musical songs, deceived those who sailed past, persuading with their sweet voice those who listened to draw near. Learning this, they say Odysseus sealed with wax the ears of his companions, but bound himself to the mast and sailed past safely, hearing out the Sirens' song to the end.

This is what I advise those who come upon this work to do: either, because of their weakness, to seal their ears with wax and sail past the doctrines of the heresies without listening to them, since these can easily persuade toward pleasure, like the clear song of the Sirens; or else, binding oneself to the wood of Christ, to listen faithfully without being disturbed, trusting in him to whom one is bound fast, and to stand upright.

Since, then, in the six books before this one we have set forth the earlier matters, it seems good now not to remain silent concerning the doctrines of Basilides, which are in fact the doctrines of Aristotle of Stagira, not of Christ. But even though the opinions of Aristotle have already been set forth earlier, we shall not hesitate now to lay them down again briefly beforehand, so that readers, through the closer juxtaposition of these doctrines, may easily perceive that the sophistries held by Basilides are Aristotelian.

Aristotle, then, divides substance (ousia) in three ways. For, as he says, one part of it is genus, another species, and another individual (atomon); and it is called 'individual' not because of smallness of body, but because by nature it is unable to admit any division whatsoever.

The genus is, as it were, a kind of heap composed of many different seeds mingled together, from which genus, as from a kind of heap, all the species of things that have come into being are distinguished. And the genus, being one, suffices for all things that have come into being. But that what is said may be clear, I shall demonstrate it by an example, through which it will be possible to run back over the whole theory of the Peripatetic school.

We say there is 'animal' simply, not 'some particular' animal. And this animal is not ox, not horse, not man, not god, not anything else whatsoever that could be indicated, but simply animal. From this animal the forms of all the particular animals derive their subsistence.

And this formless animal is the subsistence for the animals that have come into being in particular species, and it is none of the things that have come into being. For man is an animal deriving his origin from that animal, and horse is an animal deriving its origin from that animal. The horse and the ox and the dog and each of the other animals derives its origin from the simple animal, which is none of these.

But if that animal is none of these, then, according to Aristotle, the subsistence of things that have come into being has come to be out of things that are not; for the animal, from which these particular animals were taken, is not even one thing; and, being not even one, it is not any single one of the things that exist as a first principle. But who it is that has laid down this substance as the later first principle of the things that have come to be, we shall say when we come to the proper discussion of these matters.

Since, then, substance is, as I said, divided in three ways -- genus, species, individual -- and we have posited that the genus is 'animal,' and that man is a species already distinguished from the many other animals, yet still confused and not yet given form into a species of substantial subsistent being; when I give form by a name to the man taken from the genus, I name him Socrates or Diogenes or one of the many other names, and when I have thus seized, by a name, the man who has become a species of the genus, I call such a substance an 'individual.'

For the genus was cut into species, and the species into individual; but the individual, once it has come to be seized by a name, is not such as to be cut by nature into anything else, as we cut each of the aforementioned. This Aristotle calls substance in the primary, chief, and most proper sense -- that which is neither predicated of any subject nor present in a subject.

By 'predicated of a subject' he means, as it were, the genus -- which I said is 'animal' -- predicated of all the particular subject animals, such as ox and horse and so forth in turn, spoken by a common name. For it is true to say that man is an animal, and horse is an animal, and ox is an animal, and each of the others; this is what is meant by 'predicated of a subject' -- that which, being one, can be said alike of many things differing in species.

For horse does not differ at all from man in respect of being animal, nor does ox. For the definition of animal applies alike, spoken in common, to all animals. For if we define what animal is, a common definition will comprehend all animals. For animal is an ensouled, sentient substance; and this is ox, man, horse, and each of the others.

'Present in a subject,' he says, is that which exists in something -- not as a part -- and cannot exist apart from that in which it is; this is each of the accidents attaching to substance, which is called quality, in respect of which we are said to be qualified in a certain way, such as white, grey-eyed, black, just, unjust, temperate, and things of this kind. But it is impossible for any one of these to come to be by itself; it must exist in something.

But if neither the animal, which I say is predicated of all the particular animals, nor the accidents, which are found in all the things in which they occur, are able to come to be by themselves -- and yet it is out of these that individuals are completed -- then the substance divided in three ways is constituted out of things that are not, not being composed out of other pre-existing things. Therefore substance, spoken of in the primary, most proper, and chief sense, if it exists out of these, exists out of things that are not, according to Aristotle.

But concerning substance, what has now been said will suffice. Substance is called not only genus, species, individual, but also matter, form, and privation. It makes no difference, the division remaining the same in these respects. Substance being of such a kind, the ordering of the world, according to him, has come to be in some such manner as this:

The world, according to Aristotle, is divided into several differing parts. And one part of the world is that which extends from earth to the moon, without providence, without governance, content with its own nature alone; but the part beyond the moon is arranged in complete order, providence, and governance, up to the surface of heaven.

This surface, being a certain fifth substance, is free from all the natural elements from which the world has its composition; and this, according to Aristotle, is that fifth substance, being, as it were, a kind of substance beyond the world (hypercosmic). And in accordance with this division of the world there arose for him also a division of his philosophical discourse.

For there arose for him a certain 'Lecture on Nature' (Physics), in which he labored concerning the things governed by nature and not by providence, from earth to the moon. There arose for him also, concerning the things beyond the moon, another distinct treatise so entitled 'The [Things] After the Physics' (Metaphysics); and there arose for him a distinct discourse concerning the fifth substance, which for him is theological. Such, in outline, is the division of the whole, and of the philosophy according to Aristotle.

His discourse concerning the soul is unclear. For in three whole treatises it is not possible to say clearly what Aristotle thinks about the soul. For the definition he gives of the soul is easy enough to state, but what is indicated by the definition is hard to discover.

For, he says, the soul is the entelechy of a natural organic body -- what this actually is requires a very great many arguments and a great inquiry. And God, who is the cause of all these good things that exist, is even more difficult than the soul to be known, even by one who contemplates with a very extended argument.

But the definition which Aristotle gives concerning God is not difficult to know; yet it is impossible to conceive. For, he says, God is 'thought of thought,' which is altogether nonexistent. But the world, according to Aristotle, is incorruptible and eternal; for it has nothing amiss in it, being governed by providence and nature.

Aristotle has laid down in writing discourses not only concerning nature, the world, providence, and God, but there also arose for him a certain treatise of ethical discourses, which he entitles the Ethical Books, by which the character of hearers is made excellent instead of base. If Basilides is found transposing the doctrines of Aristotle into our evangelical and saving discourse -- not only in substance but even in the very words and names themselves -- what remains but for us to restore what is not his own to its true owner, and to demonstrate to his disciples that, since they remain pagans, Christ will profit them nothing?

Basilides, then, and Isidore, the legitimate son and disciple of Basilides, say that Matthias spoke to them secret discourses, which he heard from the Savior, having been taught them privately. Let us see, then, how manifestly Basilides together with Isidore and their whole company falsely accuse not simply Matthias alone, but indeed the Savior himself.

'There was,' he says, 'when there was nothing; nor was even nothing one of the things that exist, but simply and without any implication, apart from all sophistry, there was, absolutely, not even one thing. But when I say there was,' he says, 'I do not mean that it existed, but in order to signify this very thing that I wish to show, I say,' he says, 'that there was absolutely nothing. For,' he says --

'-- that reality is not simply ineffable, though we do indeed call it "ineffable"; rather, that reality is not even "ineffable"; for even "not ineffable" is itself a name that is named; but it is,' he says, 'above every name that is named.'

'For not even for the world,' he says, 'do names suffice; so manifold is it that names have run short. And I do not accept,' he says, 'that proper names can be found for everything, but it is necessary, by the understanding, to grasp inexpressibly, by means of names, the peculiar properties of the things named. For homonymy has produced confusion and error concerning things among those who hear them.'

Having taken this as their first act of appropriation and theft from the Peripatetic school, they deceive the folly of those gathered together with them; for Aristotle, having lived many generations before Basilides, laid down in writing the discourse concerning homonyms in the Categories -- a discourse which these men set forth as their own, as something new, and as one of the secret discourses of Matthias.

Since, then, nothing existed -- not "no-thing," not substance, not simple, not composite, not devoid of thought, not devoid of sensation, not man, not angel, not god, nor at all anything of the things that are named, or that are apprehended either through sense-perception or as objects of thought -- but thus, and still more minutely, with all things simply excluded -- the non-existent being, which Aristotle calls 'thought of thought,' this being, non-existent, willed, without thought, without sensation, without will, without deliberate choice, without passion, without desire, to make a world.

'But when I say "he willed,"' he says, 'I say it for the sake of signification, though it was without will, and without thought, and without sensation; and by "world" I do not mean the world that later came to be extended and divided and distinct, but rather the seed of the world.'

The seed of the world had all things in itself, just as a grain of mustard seed, though gathered up into the smallest compass, has all things together -- roots, stem, branches, and countless leaves, the seeds of the grains generated from the plant, and again the seeds of many other different plants scattered from it. Thus the non-existent God made a non-existent world out of things that are not, laying down and establishing a certain single seed having in itself the whole seed-mixture of the world. That I may make clearer what these men say: just as an egg of some very variegated and many-colored bird -- such as the peacock, or some other creature still more multiform and many-colored -- though one, nevertheless has in itself many forms of multiform, many-colored, and many-substanced substances, so is that which was laid down, he says, by the non-existent God: a non-existent seed, containing together the seed-mixture of the world, and being of many substances.

All things, then, whatever can be said, and also whatever, not having been discovered, must be passed over -- as many things as were destined necessarily to fit the world that was going to come to be from the seed, growing by addition at its own proper times, under the agency of so great and such a God, whom the creation has come to be unable either to describe or to comprehend in thought -- all these lay stored up, treasured within the seed; just as in a newborn child we later see teeth appear, and paternal substance come to accrue, and understanding, and whatever else, as a man gradually grows from infancy, comes to be that was not there before.

But since it was impossible to say that the non-existent came to be as some kind of emanation of the non-existent God -- for Basilides very much shuns and fears positing the substances of things that have come to be by way of emanation -- what need, then, is there of any emanation, or what supposition of matter, in order that God might fashion a world, as a spider takes its threads, or as a mortal man, working, takes bronze or wood or some part of matter?

'But he spoke,' he says, 'and it came to be,' and this is, as these men say, what was spoken by Moses: 'Let there be light, and there was light.' 'Whence,' he says, 'did the light come to be? From nothing; for it is not written,' he says, 'whence, but only from the voice of the one speaking. And the one speaking,' he says, 'did not exist, nor did the thing that came to be exist.'

'The seed of the world,' he says, 'came to be out of things that are not -- the word that was spoken, "Let there be light." And this,' he says, 'is what is said in the Gospels: "That was the true light, which lights every man coming into the world."'

[Man] receives his first principles from that seed and is illuminated. This is the seed which has in itself the whole seed-mixture, which Aristotle calls a genus divided into infinite forms, just as we divide from 'animal' the species ox, horse, man -- which genus is itself non-existent.

The cosmic seed, then, being posited as the underlying subject, they say: 'Whatever I say,' he says, 'came to be after these things, do not ask whence. For it had all the seeds within itself, treasured up and stored, as things not [yet] existing, but having previously been willed by the non-existent God to come into being.'

Let us see, then, what they say is first, or second, or third, of what came to be from the cosmic seed. There was, he says, in the seed itself a threefold sonship, consubstantial in every respect with the non-existent God, begotten out of things that are not. Of this sonship, divided three ways, one part was of fine substance, another of coarse substance, and another in need of purification.

The fine part, then, immediately, first of all, as soon as the primal deposit of the seed came to be by the non-existent God, darted through and ascended and ran back up, from below to above, using a certain creative swiftness, like a wing or a thought, and came, he says, to the non-existent [God]; for toward him, because of the surpassing excellence of his beauty and comeliness, every nature reaches out, each in its own way.

But the coarser part, still remaining in the seed, being a certain imitative thing, was not able to run back up; for, being much more deficient than the fineness which the sonship possessed that ran back up by itself, it was left behind.

The coarser sonship, then, winged itself with such a wing as Plato -- the teacher of Aristotle -- in the Phaedrus, wings the soul with; and Basilides calls such a thing not a wing, but the Holy Spirit, which the sonship, having clothed itself with it, both benefits and is benefited by.

It benefits [the Spirit] because, just as a bird's feather by itself, separated from the bird, could never become high-flying or aloft, nor could a bird released from its feather ever become high-flying or aloft, so the sonship had such a relationship with the Holy Spirit, and the Spirit with the sonship.

For the sonship, being carried up by the Spirit as by a wing, in turn carries up the wing, that is, the Spirit; and having come near to the fine sonship and to the God who is non-existent and who created out of things that are not, it was not able to keep it, the Spirit, with itself; for the Spirit was not consubstantial with God, nor did it share nature with the sonship.

But just as pure, dry air is contrary to nature and destructive for fish, so for the Holy Spirit that place -- more ineffable than things ineffable, and above all names, of the non-existent God together with the sonship -- was contrary to its nature. The sonship, therefore, left it near [that place], though not that blessed and inconceivable place, nor one that can be characterized by any account -- leaving it not utterly bereft nor deprived of the sonship.

But just as when a most fragrant ointment has been put into a vessel, even if it be emptied out with the utmost care, still some scent of the ointment remains and is left behind, even though the ointment be separated from the vessel -- and the vessel retains the scent of the ointment, even though it retains not the ointment itself -- so the Holy Spirit has remained without a share of the sonship and separated from it, yet it has in itself, in a manner similar to the ointment, the power -- the scent -- of the sonship. And this is signified by the ointment upon the head that runs down upon the beard of Aaron: the scent borne from the Holy Spirit, from above downward, as far as the formlessness and the interval that pertains to us. From this place the sonship began to ascend, as it were upon eagle's wings, he says, and borne upon its back. For all things, he says, hasten upward, from worse to better; and nothing among the things in the better realms is so senseless as to descend downward. But the third sonship, he says, the one needing purification, has remained in the great heap, benefiting and being benefited. In what manner it is benefited and benefits, we shall say later, when we come to the discussion proper to it.

Since, then, the first and second ascent of the sonship has occurred, and its Holy Spirit has remained in the manner stated, [there is] a firmament, situated between the things above the world and the world itself --

For existing things are divided by Basilides into two immediate and primary divisions, and, according to him, one part is called 'world,' another 'the things above the world,' and that which lies between the world and the things above the world is this boundary spirit, which is both holy and has remaining in itself the scent of the sonship --

The firmament, then, being in place -- which is above the heaven -- there darted forth and was begotten, from the cosmic seed and from the seed-mixture of the mass, the Great Archon, the head of the world, a beauty and greatness and power that cannot be spoken of. For, he says, he is more ineffable than things ineffable, and more powerful than powerful things, and wiser than wise things, and, whatever you might name of all good things, superior to it.

This one, having been begotten, raised himself up and was lifted aloft and was borne, entirely upward, as far as the firmament, and stopped there; and, supposing the firmament to be the end of the ascent and of the height, and conceiving that there was nothing at all beyond this, he became superior to all things subject to him, as many as were the remaining cosmic things -- wiser, more powerful, more distinguished, more radiant, superior in every good quality you might name, excelling all things except the sonship alone, which had been left behind still in the seed-mixture; for he was ignorant that there existed one wiser and more powerful and better than himself.

Supposing himself, then, to be lord and master and wise architect, he turned to the particular creation of the world. And first he thought it fitting not to be alone, but made for himself and begot, out of the things subject to him, a son of his own, much better and wiser than himself.

For the non-existent God had planned all these things beforehand, when he laid down the seed-mixture. Seeing, then, the son, he marvelled and loved him and was astonished; for such a beauty of a son appeared to the Great Archon; and the Archon seated him at his right hand.

This is what is called, according to them, the Ogdoad, where the Great Archon sits enthroned. All the heavenly creation, that is, the ethereal creation, this great, wise Demiurge himself fashioned; and his son, who had come to be his, worked together with him and gave him counsel, being far wiser than the Demiurge himself.

This is, according to Aristotle, the entelechy of the natural organic body -- the soul working in the body, without which the body can do nothing -- greater and more distinguished and more powerful and wiser than the body. The same account, then, which Aristotle previously gave concerning the soul and the body, Basilides sets forth concerning the Great Archon and the son that belongs to him.

For the Archon, according to Basilides, has begotten a son, just as the soul is a work and result -- as Aristotle says -- namely, the entelechy of the natural organic body. As, then, the entelechy governs the body, so, according to Basilides, the son governs that god who is more ineffable than things ineffable.

All the ethereal things, then, as many as extend to the moon, are foreseen and administered by the entelechy of the Great Archon; for from that point onward air is distinguished from ether. All the ethereal things, then, having been set in order, again from the seed-mixture another archon arose, greater than all the things subject to him, apart, however, from the sonship that had been left behind, but far inferior to the first Archon. And this one too is called ineffable by them.

And this place is called the Hebdomad, and this second archon is the administrator and demiurge of all things subject to him, he too having made for himself, from the seed-mixture, a son more prudent and wiser than himself, similarly to what was said concerning the first archon.

That which is in this interval is the mass itself, he says, and the seed-mixture, and the things that come to be, come to be according to nature, as things brought forth by the one who had calculated beforehand the things that were going to be said -- when they must, of what sort they must, and as they must. And of these there is no overseer, or caretaker, or demiurge; for that calculation suffices for them, which the non-existent [God], when he was making things, made by calculating [it all in advance].

Since, then, according to them, the whole world and the things above the world have been brought to completion, and nothing is lacking, but there remains in the panspermia the third Sonship, which has been left behind to do good and to receive good in the seed, and it is necessary that the Sonship left behind be revealed and be restored on high there, above the boundary-spirit, to the fine-particled and imitative Sonship, and to the non-existent one, as it is written, he says: "and creation itself groans together and travails together, awaiting the revelation of the sons of God."

"We," he says, "the spiritual ones, are sons, left behind here to set in order, to give form to, to correct, and to perfect the souls that by nature have their lot below, remaining in this interval." Now from Adam until Moses sin reigned, as it is written:

For the great Ruler reigned, he whose dominion extends as far as the firmament, thinking himself to be the only God and that there was nothing above him; for all things were kept guarded in a hidden silence. This, he says, is the mystery which was not made known to the former generations, but in those times the great Ruler, the Ogdoad, was, as it seemed, king and lord of all things.

And the king and lord of this interval was the Hebdomad; and the Ogdoad is ineffable, while the Hebdomad is expressible. This, he says, is the Ruler of the Hebdomad, who spoke to Moses and said: "I am the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, and I did not make known to them the name of God" — for so they wish it to have been written — that is, the name of the ineffable God, the Ruler of the Ogdoad.

All the prophets, then, before the Savior, he says, spoke from that source. Since, then, it was necessary, he says, that we, the children of God, should be revealed — concerning whom, he says, creation groaned and travailed, eagerly awaiting the revelation — the gospel came into the world, and passed through every principality and authority and lordship and every name that is named:

But it truly came, yet nothing came down from above, nor did the blessed Sonship of that inconceivable and blessed non-existent God depart from its place. But just as Indian naphtha, merely by being seen from a very great distance, ignites fire, so from below, from the formlessness of the mass, the powers extend upward as far as the Sonship.

For it kindles and receives the thoughts, after the manner of Indian naphtha, since the son of the great Ruler of the Ogdoad is, as it were, something ignited, receiving light from the blessed Sonship that is beyond the boundary. For the power which is in the midst, that of the Holy Spirit, in the boundary of the Sonship, transmits the flowing and moving thoughts of the Sonship to the son of the great Ruler.

The gospel, then, he says, came first from the Sonship, through the son who sits beside the Ruler, to the Ruler; and the Ruler learned that he was not the God of all, but was begotten, and that above him lay stored up the treasure of the ineffable and unnameable non-existent one and of the Sonship; and he turned and was afraid, understanding in what ignorance he had been.

This, he says, is what has been said: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." For he began to become wise, being instructed by the Christ who sits beside him, being taught who the non-existent one is, what the Sonship is, what the Holy Spirit is, what the constitution of all things is, and where these things will be restored. This is the wisdom that is spoken of "in a mystery."

Concerning which, he says, Scripture says: "not in words taught by human wisdom, but in words taught by the Spirit." The Ruler, then, he says, having been instructed and taught and having become afraid, confessed the sin which he had committed in magnifying himself.

This, he says, is what has been said: "I made known my sin, and I know my iniquity; for this I will make confession forever." Since, then, the great Ruler had been instructed, and the whole creation of the Ogdoad had been instructed and taught, and the mystery had been made known to the heavenly beings, it was necessary that the gospel should thereafter come also to the Hebdomad, so that the Ruler of the Hebdomad likewise might be taught and receive the good news.

The son of the great Ruler shone the light upon the son of the Ruler of the Hebdomad, the light which he himself had kindled from above, from the Sonship; and the son of the Ruler of the Hebdomad was enlightened, and he brought the gospel to the Ruler of the Hebdomad; and likewise, according to the former account, he too became afraid and made confession.