Summer Harvest

One of the most appealing facets of Gnosticism is its recognition and veneration of what is usually referred to as “The Divine Feminine.” This aspect of God takes many forms in Gnostic mythology, from Barbelo (the Feminine Aspect of the Father) to Sophia (Wisdom), to Mary Magdalene. Indeed, many of our scriptures were composed from a feminine perspective, and most modern Gnostics wholeheartedly embrace this rectification of certain cultural and social imbalances from centuries past. In Gnosticism, Eve is the heroine of the story, and Mary Magdalene gets equal marquis space with Peter and the rest. Sometimes, however, I wonder if we’re not in danger of heading too far in the other direction. It’s all well and good to acknowledge that Gnosticism’s embrace of this aspect of the divine is pretty neat. It’s another thing altogether to completely neglect the “masculine” aspects of the religion.

The point is, we’re all aware by now that most monotheistic (and a few poly-) religions to this point have been overly patriarchal, emphasizing the “male” role over that of the “female.” This resulted in a backlash of spiritual gender-cleansing among some traditions (I’m lookin’ at you, Dianic Wiccans)– an overarching emphasis on the feminine to often ridiculous ends (a “feminist” I Ching that simply substitutes “woman” for “man” each time it occurs?!?). I sometimes wonder if certain forms of Gnosticism are heading in this direction.

It is my humble opinion that what some people see as Gnosticism’s emphasis on the Divine Feminine is a rather modern interpretation of the original texts– a reading through post-modern lenses, as it were. Instead, it seems to me that rather than tip the scales over to what amounts in certain circles to Goddess Worship, Gnosticism instead tried to balance the equation. The Father cannot observe itself without Barbelo. Sophia cannot manifest without the Christos. Jesus’s teachings couldn’t have survived without Mary, but without Jesus, she would have been just another Roman-era Jewish woman.

Let’s face it; Gnosticism was no more a feminist religion than a masculine religion. Instead, like the Taoist vision of the Yang and Yin, Gnostic myth describes the complex interplay of divine qualities to which we refer as “masculine” and “feminine.” It’s balanced– possibly moreso than any other Western tradition. Right from the top we have a waterfall of emanations, each containing and contained within its opposite, each syzygy united only through duality.

This is why you’ll often see references in my writing to “Logosophia” or “Christosophia.” By my reading, you can’t have one without the other. Sophia and the Christos are like peanut butter and jelly, like salt and pepper, like… er, like mom and dad. Emphasizing one at the other’s expense– *either* one– misses the point. If we lose sight of this, don’t we lose sight of Gnosticism itself? If we sing praises to Sophia but neglect the Christos, who are we helping? Are we Gnostics, or are we Sophia Worshippers? What about Seth? Jesus? Thomas?

That silent, secret She is there, but She is accompanied by Him, the Bridegroom, the Shouter, the Dancer, the Busy One, the Scribe, the Messenger. He is the Christos, Hermes, Apollon, Abraxas. He can be found whenever she is present, in the shouts of the tent-revival, in the shouted Hallelujah of the faith-full, in the Music of the Spheres, they dance together, masculine and feminine but neither, entwined in an eternal embrace, her Wisdom and his Word combined the sublime vessel of our salvation, worthless without one another. The bridal chamber has been decorated for the bride and groom, and if either are absent the marriage cannot be consummated.