Holy Bishops in Late Antiquity. Claudia Rapp

there is some overlap in the meaning and application of “bearers of the Spirit” and “bearers of Christ,” it is important to keep in mind what distinguishes these concepts. Spirit-bearers are most prominently, although not exclusively, recognizable because of their teaching and preaching, which is inspired by the Holy Ghost. They can thus be equated with holders of spiritual authority. Christ-bearers are identified as such because they have followed the example of Christ, either in the course of their life, as is the case with ascetics and monks, or through their manner of death, as is the case with martyrs. They thus represent what we have termed ascetic authority. The essential difference between Spirit-bearers and Christ-bearers is that the former exist in a definite state of grace upon which they have no influence, while the latter exist in a tentative state of spiritual distinction that allows for and indeed requires augmentation in the lifelong effort to imitate Christ. To some degree, this conscious and sustained effort of the individual to mold himself or herself after Christ should be the goal of every Christian. John Chrysostom spoke of those “who walk on the Christ-bearing road”¹⁸ and encouraged spiritual leaders to help others in this process: “Let us strive to become fathers of genuine [i.e., spiritual] children, let us be builders of Christ-bearing temples, let us be caretakers of heavenly athletes.”¹⁹

      Gnōstikos and Pneumatikos

      The need for divinely inspired instruction was especially relevant in the context of the quest for spiritual perfection. Long before the establishment of monastic communities with their well-regulated daily routines, small circles of disciples gathered around their teachers in much the same way as philosophical schools had grown around Plato, Aristotle, and the Neoplatonic philosopher Plotinus.²⁰ The followers of a Christian teacher sought not merely knowledge in matters of faith, but true insight into the divine mysteries, a kind of revelatory participation in the eternal truth. More than that, they desired to transform their lives after the model of Christ. The role of the teacher in this process was paramount. In order to guide others, he first had to have attained perfection himself, often by following his own teacher. The gift of discernment enabled such a teacher to dole out the right portion of insight or to impose the proper amount of practical exercise that fostered the spiritual growth of each disciple according to his abilities and needs. This kind of instruction became extremely popular in Egypt from the late third century. The desert fathers attracted to Egypt individuals from all over the Roman Empire who came to emulate their lifestyle and receive instruction from them. Anthony is the most prominent, but by no means the first, hermit who withdrew to the solitude of the desert and there attracted disciples. Side by side with eremitic monasticism emerged the more formal arrangement of coenobitic, or communal, monasticism, which was pioneered by Pachomius in the 320s. Some of the greatest hermit-teachers lived in the fourth century. Macarius the Egyptian and Didymus the Blind have already been mentioned. To their number should be added Evagrius Ponticus, who will concern us below.

      There is a discernible lineage in the thinking about spiritual guidance that begins with Clement of Alexandria in the late second–early third century, moves on to Origen (d. ca. 253), and from him to Evagrius Ponticus (d. 399). They all discuss the qualities of the ideal teacher in some detail. To Clement, the person in a position to provide spiritual instruction is the gnōstikos. The word comes from the same root as gnōsis, true knowledge of the divine. Knowledge of the divine is coupled with love of divine wisdom. Hence the gnōstikos is also the true philosopher (the literal meaning of philosophia being “love of wisdom”). Here is Clement’s definition of the gnōstikos in a nutshell: “Our philosopher holds firmly to these three things: first, contemplation; second, fulfilling the commandments; third, the formation of people of virtue. When these come together they make the Gnostic Christian [gnōstikos].”²¹ All aspects of the individual are thus involved in being a gnōstikos: the soul and the mental capacities in order to attain knowledge of God, the body and the will that governs it in order to observe the teachings of Christ, and a man’s social ability to communicate in order to instruct others. Insight, practice, and teaching are intimately linked. The gnōstikos’s highest goal is to emulate Christ: “It is the Christian Gnostic [gnōstikos] who is ‘in the image and likeness,’ who imitates God so far as possible, leaving out none of the things which lead to the possible likeness, displaying continence, patience, righteous living, sovereignty over the passions, sharing his possessions so far as he can, doing good in word and deed.”²² According to Clement, every Christian should strive to become a gnōstikos, to observe the Christian teachings at all times and in every aspect of his existence.²³

      Yet Clement implicitly acknowledges a gradation in the attainment of gnōsis when he discusses those gnōstikoi who become teachers of others. It is unthinkable to Clement that the man who has been privileged with divine gnōsis would not pass his knowledge on to others: “Human beings learn to share as a result of justice; they pass on to others some of what they have received from God out of a natural attitude of kindliness and obedience to the commandments.”²⁴ Just as the gnōstikos strives to become “like unto” God, the disciple desires to emulate his teacher. This involves a succession of several steps: faith, knowledge (gnōsis), love, and the “heavenly inheritance.” ²⁵ The kind of spiritual love that Clement has in mind is a formative process in which the lover’s desire for the beloved makes him become like the beloved: “An ignorant man has sought, and having sought, he finds the teacher; and finding has believed, and believing has hoped; and henceforward having loved, is assimilated to what was loved—endeavouring to be what he first loved.”²⁶

      Clement’s definition implies not only that the gnōstikos is, by his very nature, a teacher, but also that he is, in the truest sense, a priest: “For it is possible even now for those who practice the Lord’s commandments, and who live perfectly according to the Gospels and who are gnōstikoi, to be registered in the list of the apostles. Such a man is truly a priest of the Church and a veritable servant (diakonos) of God’s will, when he practices and teaches the things of the Lord; and he is not ordained with the imposition of human hands, neither is he believed to be just, because he is a priest, but rather, he is enlisted in the priesthood because he is just.”²⁷

      Clement here draws a critical distinction between true priests and priests by ordination, a distinction that will continue to trouble the church through the ages. It allows for the possibility that true priests do not receive ordination, while those who are ordained to the priesthood may fall short of the mark for true priests. Both scenarios bear great danger, the former because people with spiritual gifts may operate outside the ecclesiastical hierarchy, the latter because the ranks of the clergy may be filled with unworthy men.

      Origen, Clement’s disciple and later successor as instructor at the catechetical school in Alexandria, was the first Christian theologian to produce commentaries on most of the books of the holy scriptures. In Origen’s writings, the perfected Christian is usually called pneumatikos, although Origen sometimes also uses Clement’s designation gnōstikos. As the Greek word pneuma means “Holy Spirit,” the word pneumatikos has its exact correspondence in the English word “spiritual.” Origen follows Clement in recognizing the pneumatikos as the true Christian.²⁸ The pneumatikos perfects himself through constant study of the scriptures; he practices asceticism in order to increase his spiritual and mental abilities in the same measure as he minimizes attention to the needs of his body; and he demonstrates his state of perfection through his actions. In other words, Origen identifies ascetic living and its visible effects as both the preparation for and the manifestation of spiritual authority. As the pneumatikos shares in the divine Spirit and continually lives in its presence, he is a true successor of the apostles; he is equal to the apostles; he is like an angel—indeed, he is a divine man (theios anēr) and a friend of God. These laudatory designations will later become a staple of hagiographical literature, applied in the praise of martyrs and saints.

      Like Clement before him, Origen distinguishes between clergy by ordination and the “true priests” who, as partakers of the spirit, are imbued with divine authority to fulfill the priestly functions of preaching and teaching, and who can act as physicians of souls. But Origen exhibits greater boldness than his teacher in following this thought to its logical consequence. He proclaims that not only those who are seen to belong to the college of priests, but even more so those who comport themselves in a priestly