Augustine and Manichaean Christianity
Augustine and Manichaean Christianity
Augustine and Manichaean Christianity
Editors
Johannes van Oort & Einar Thomassen
Editorial Board
j.d. beduhn – a.d. deconick – w.-p. funk
i. gardner – s.n.c. lieu – a. marjanen
p. nagel – l. painchaud – b.a. pearson
n.a. pedersen – s.g. richter – j.m. robinson
m. scopello – j.d. turner – g. wurst
VOLUME 83
Edited by
Johannes van Oort
LEIDEN • BOSTON
2013
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
BR65.A9S645 2012
270.2092–dc23
2013018716
This publication has been typeset in the multilingual “Brill” typeface. With over 5,100
characters covering Latin, IPA, Greek, and Cyrillic, this typeface is especially suitable for
use in the humanities. For more information, please see www.brill.com/brill-typeface.
ISSN 0929-2470
ISBN 978-90-04-25477-0 (hardback)
ISBN 978-90-04-25506-7 (e-book)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher.
Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV
provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center,
222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA.
Fees are subject to change.
Majella Franzmann
Augustine and Manichaean Almsgiving: Understanding a
Universal Religion with Exclusivist Practices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
1 The Manichaean Concept of Almsgiving . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
a From the Texts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
b In Practice . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
2 Exclusive Communities and Food Exclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
3 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
Therese Fuhrer
Re-coding Manichaean Imagery: the Dramatic Setting of
Augustine’s De ordine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
1 Preliminary Remarks: Augustine in Milan—From
Manichaean to ‘Converted’ Member of the ‘Catholic’ Church . . 51
2 The Discussion in De ordine: Malum in the World Order . . . . . . . 54
vi contents
Iain Gardner
Mani, Augustine and the Vision of God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
1 The Manichaean Daily Prayers to the Sun and the Moon . . . . . . 73
2 Solar and Lunar Eclipses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
3 Manichaean Cosmology and Eschatology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
4 Augustine’s Critique and the Vision of God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82
Andreas Hoffmann
The Few and the Many: A Motif of Augustine’s Controversy with
the Manichaeans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
1 Hortensius . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
2 Manichaeism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
2.1 Intellectual Demand: The Few “Enlightened” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
2.2 Ethical Demand: The Few “Saints” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
3 The Few and the Many in the Controversy with the
Manichaeans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
4 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
Annemaré Kotzé
A Protreptic to a Liminal Manichaean at the Centre of
Augustine’s Confessions 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
2 The ‘Liminal Manichaean’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
3 The Structure of Book 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
3.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
3.2 Scholarship on Book 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
3.3 The Structure of Book 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
4 The Central Passage of Book 4 as a Protreptic to a Liminal
Manichaean . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
4.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
4.2 Paragraphs 4.14–15: Reflection and Prayer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126
4.3 Paragraphs 4.16–19: Apostrophe of the Soul and Other
Souls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127
5 Conclusions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
contents vii
Josef Lössl
Augustine on “The True Religion”: Reflections of Manichaeism in
De vera religione . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
1 The Many Influences on and Purposes of De vera religione . . . . 137
2 Techniques of Anti-Manichaean Argument and Manichaean
Responses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
3 Manichaean Influences and Background . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
3.1 The Addressee (Romanianus) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
3.2 Augustine’s Own History as a Manichaean. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
4 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 152
APPENDIX
RESEARCH OVERVIEW
Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229
preface
1 Volume 13 of his famous Mémoires ecclésiastiques, finished in 1695, was entitled ‘La
vie de saint Augustin’ and contains all relevant information available at the time from
Augustine’s own works and other relevant sources. See now the conveniently accessible
English translation (with annotation and introduction by Frederick Van Fleteren a.o.): Louis
Sébastien, Le Nain de Tillemont, The Life of Augustine of Hippo. Part One: Childhood to
Episcopal Consecration (354–396), New York etc.: Peter Lang 2010; Part Two: The Donatist
Controversy (396–411), New York etc.: Peter Lang 2012; Part Three: The Pelagian Controversy
(412–430) (forthcoming).
2 Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo. A Biography, London: Faber & Faber 1968 (New edi-
Augustiniennes 1968.
4 Sancti Aureli Augustini Opera. Epistulae ex duobus codicibus nuper in lucem prolatae,
par François Dolbeau, Paris: Institut d’Études Augustiniennes 1996; Augustin prédicateur
x preface
(395–411). Actes du Colloque International de Chantilly (5–7 septembre 1996) édités par Goulven
Madec, Paris: Institut d’Études Augustiniennes 1998; Augustin d’Hippone, Vingt-six sermons
au peuple d’Afrique. Mise à jour bibliographique par François Dolbeau, Paris: Institut d’Études
Augustiniennes 2001; François Dolbeau, Augustin et la prédication en Afrique. Recherches sur
divers sermons authentiques, apocryphes ou anonymes, Paris: Institut d’Études Augustini-
ennes 2005.
6 Isabella Schiller, Dorothea Weber, Clemens Weidmann, ‘Sechs neue Augustinuspredig-
ten. Teil 1 mit Edition dreier Sermones’, Wiener Studien 121 (2008) 227–284; Isabella Schiller,
Dorothea Weber, Clemens Weidmann, ‘Sechs neue Augustinuspredigten. Teil 2 mit Edition
dreier Sermones zum Thema Almosen’, Wiener Studien 122 (2009) 171–213.
7 Albert Henrichs & Ludwig Koenen, ‘Ein griechischer Mani-Codex (P. Colon. inv. nr.
4780)’, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 5 (1970) 97–216. An overview of subsequent
editions and, above all, of the real flood of subsequent studies I tried to survey in J. van Oort,
‘The Study of the Cologne Mani Codex, 1969–1994’, Manichaean Studies Newsletter 13 (1996)
22–30.
8 Wolfgang Wassilios Klein, Die Argumentation in den griechisch-christlichen Antimani-
chaica, Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz 1991. For Titus of Bostra, see the comprehensive study
by Nils Arne Pedersen, Demonstrative Proof in Defence of God: A Study of Titus of Bostra’s Con-
tra Manichaeos—The Work’s Sources, Aims and Relation to its Contemporary Theology (NHMS
56), Leiden-Boston 2004.
9 E.g. mor. 1,80; 2,14; conf. 3,21; 5,11; c. Faust. 1,1; haer. 46,10.
10 E.g. util. cred. 1; conf. 3,21; 5,19; c. Faust. 11,2; 13,4; haer. 46.
a testimony to a paradigm shift in manichaean studies? xi
upholding old positions. Even today professional books and articles appear
in which Manichaeism is described as an eccentric Persian religion with no
or only a very transient influence upon Augustine. However, over the past
few years specialists studying the North-African church father have begun
to emphasize that, at all times and during his whole career, he describes
the Manichaeans as (heretical, of course, but nevertheless as) Christians,11
and even explicitly depicts their religious organization as a Church.12 This
is the way in which the Manichaean movement was already conceived in
the Cologne Mani Codex in the words of Mani himself.13 To Augustine and
many a Catholic contemporary the deviant Church was, like the Donatist
one and later the Pelagian movement, a real and persisting Christian threat.
It can be said that the awareness of this fact and its implications has caused
a noticeable paradigm shift in Augustinian studies, the results of which are
becoming increasingly apparent and are gradually gaining acceptance.
The present book may testify to this paradigm shift. Its deliberately
thought-provoking title intends to give full due to the connecting theme of
its often revealing essays. One can read that Augustine, having left Mani-
chaeism and being in the process of joining a Catholic Christianity imbued
with Platonism, saw himself as continuing his adherence to Christ as an
authority. In other words, already as a Manichaean he had regarded him-
self as fully committed to Christ. The grand and still understudied debate
with Faustus was, like the disputes with Manichaeans such as Fortunatus,
Felix and Secundinus, nothing other than a debate among Christians in
which, time and again, the interpretation of Scripture constituted the cen-
tral issue. Another study unexpectedly shows that, in the highly philosoph-
ical dialogue De ordine, the setting is strongly reminiscent of stock motifs
of Manichaean mythology. De vera religione, a further early work of Augus-
tine’s—and once more dealing with the origin of evil, a question which so
engaged him as an adolescent that it drove him to the Manichaeans14—turns
11 E.g. util. cred. 30 ff.; Gn. litt. 7,17; c. ep. Man. 9; c. Faust. 12,24; these and other testimonies
in context in J. van Oort, ‘Manichaean Christians in Augustine’s Life and Work’, Church History
and Religious Culture 90 (2010) 505–546.
12 Most clearly in haer. 46,5 [and 16].
13 The Greek word ekklēsia explicitly in CMC 35,13; 36,14; 111,15 and 116,14. Other Manichae-
an texts such as the Coptic Manichaean Psalm-Book, Kephalaia and Homilies and also the new
texts from Kellis frequently speak of the Manichaean ekklēsia; in like manner the Latin ver-
sion of Mani’s Epistula Fundamenti (apud Evodius of Uzalis) and the Fragmenta Tabestina
use the word ecclesia to indicate the own religious community (cf. e.g. Sarah Clackson, Erica
Hunter, Samuel N.C. Lieu and Mark Vermes, Dictionary of Manichaean Texts, Vol. I, Texts from
the Roman Empire, Turnhout: Brepols 1998, s.v.).
14 Lib. arb. 1,4: “Eam quaestionem [sc. unde malum?] moves, quae me admodum adoles-
xii preface
centem vehementer exercuit, et fatigatum in haereticos impulit atque deiecit.” Cf., e.g., conf.
3,12.
a testimony to a paradigm shift in manichaean studies? xiii
the positions taken in current debates and provides suggestions for future
research.
It is hoped that the present book’s richly variegated though strictly theme-
centered contributions may profitably contribute to the paradigm shift spo-
ken of above. To a certain extent they are a follow-up to an earlier enterprise,
a symposium on ‘Augustine and Manichaeism in the Latin West’, the results
of which were published in 2001 and reprinted recently.15 The present essays
are the final outcome of the conference which could opportunely take place
on African soil and also constituted the first scientific congress on Augus-
tine in South Africa. It is a great pleasure to thank Prof. Johan Buitendag,
the Dean of the Faculty of Theology of the University of Pretoria, for his
constant support; the (then) Deputy Dean of the Faculty of Theology, Prof.
Julian Müller, for his opening address; Prof. Graham Duncan, the Head of
UP’s Department of Church History, and many other colleagues from UP and
other universities in South Africa who attended and made their valuable
contributions, also by presiding over the subsequent sessions and leading
the discussions; last but not least the conference lecturers who travelled
from four continents (and, at the conference’s conclusion, cheerfully joined
a tour to spot—at least …—four of Africa’s Big Five). Very special thanks are
due to Ms Yolande Steenkamp MA, my Pretoria research assistant, who did
perfect work in the organization of the congress and the compilation of the
Index.
15 Johannes van Oort, Otto Wermelinger & Gregor Wurst (eds.), Augustine and Manichae-
ism in the Latin West. Proceedings of the Fribourg –Utrecht International Symposium of the
IAMS (Nag Hammadi and Manichaean Studies XLIX), Leiden-Boston-Köln: Brill 2001 (paper-
back repr. Leiden-Boston: Brill 2012).
LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS
Jacob Albert van den Berg (formerly PhD Radboud University, Nijmegen, NL),
Groningen, NL
[email protected]
1 See Richard Lim, “Unity and Diversity Among Western Manichaeans: A Reconsidera-
tion of Mani’s sancta ecclesia,” Revue des Études Augustiniennes 35 (1989) 231–250.
2 See Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo: A Biography, rev. ed. (Berkeley: University of
3 See Pierre Hadot, Philosophy as a Way of Life: Spiritual Exercises from Socrates to Foucault
und in Cassiciacum: Contra academ. II 6, 14f.; III 17–19, 37–42,” Augustinus 13 (1968) 77–98;
Aimé Solignac, “Doxographies et manuels dans la formation philosophique de saint
Augustin,” Recherches Augustiniennes 1 (1958) 113–148; Takeshi Kato, “Melodia interior. Sur
le traité De pulchro et apto,” Revue des Études Augustiniennes 11 (1965) 229–239.
5 See Luc Brisson, How Philosophers Saved Myths: Allegorical Interpretation and Classical
Ratzinger (in his review of A. Adam, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte in Jahrbuch für Antike
und Christentum 10 [1967] 217–222), takes the position that Augustine was not a very engaged
Manichaean, while J. Kevin Coyle (“What Did Augustine Know about Manichaeism When He
Wrote His Two Treatises De Moribus?” in J. van Oort et al., eds., Augustine and Manichaeism
in the Latin West: Proceedings of the Fribourg-Utrecht Symposium of the International Associ-
ation of Manichaean Studies [Leiden: Brill, 2001], 43–56), has gone so far as to suggest that
Augustine actually read very little Manichaean literature. The opposite view has been taken
above all by Johannes van Oort, with the latter going so far as to credit Augustine with a com-
prehensive understanding of Manichaeism (“Augustinus und der Manichäismus,” in A. Van
Tongerloo and J. van Oort, eds., The Manichaean ΝΟΥΣ. Proceedings of the International Sym-
posium, 31st of July to 3rd of August 1991 [Louvain: IAMS-CHR, 1995], 289–307). Coyle op. cit., 45,
rightly notes that van Oort’s appraisal of Augustine’s knowledge of Manichaeism was based
on the latter’s work as a whole, and did not distinguish between what he had learned as a
Manichaean, and what he learned later in his polemical engagement. Subsequently, van Oort
has attempted to meet this objection in “The Young Augustine’s Knowledge of Manichaeism:
An Analysis of the Confessiones and Some Other Relevant Texts,” Vigiliae Christianae 62
(2008) 441–466.
8 Pace Coyle op. cit.
9 See van Oort op. cit., as well as idem, “Heeding and Hiding their Particular Knowl-
edge? An Analysis of Augustine’s Dispute with Fortunatus,” in T. Fuhrer, ed., Die christlich-
philosophischen Diskurse der Spätantike: Texte, Personen, Institutionen (Stuttgart: Steiner,
2008), 113–121.
6 jason david beduhn
10 To a certain extent, then, I take a position close to that of Ratzinger. “Im übrigen sollte
man doch auch bedenken, daß Augustin als Manichäer Laie, nicht Theologe war, und daß
die geistige Arbeit seiner manichäischen Zeit den Problemen der rhetorischen Kultur der
Spätantike galt, wie die Titel seiner verlorenen Veröffentlichungen aus dieser Periode zeigen.
Allem nach hat er sich in der Zeit vor der religiösen Krise, die zur Bekehrung führte, mit
religiöser Literatur nicht wesentlich mehr befaßt, als ein gebildeter Akademiker es auch
heute tut, und so dürfte seine literarische Kenntnis des Manichäismus verhältnismäßig
gering geblieben sein; erst in der Zeit der Auseinandersetzung hat er sich etwas mehr damit
beschäftigt. Insofern ist der vorchristliche Augustin eher durch die Namen Cicero und Vergil
als durch den Namen Mani zu erfassen” (Ratzinger op. cit., 222).
11 Coyle op. cit., 56.
not to depart from christ 7
of Faustus and Augustine,” in J. BeDuhn, ed., New Light on Manichaeism: Papers from the
Sixth International Congress on Manichaeism (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 1–28; idem, Augustine’s
Manichaean Dilemma, 1: Conversion and Apostasy, 373–388 C.E. (Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press, 2010), 106–134.
13 Johannes van Oort, “Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma in Context,” Vigiliae Christianae
65 (2011) 543–567.
14 Quoted from J.H.S. Burleigh, Augustine: Earlier Writings (Philadelphia: Westminster
and V. Twomey, eds., The Relationship between Neoplatonism and Christianity (Dublin: Four
Courts, 1992), 101–125.
16 Translation from Maria Boulding, The Confessions (Hyde Park: New City Press, 1997), 121.
not to depart from christ 9
17 See Jason BeDuhn, “Augustine Accused: Megalius, Manichaeism, and the Inception of
161–327.
10 jason david beduhn
apparently had instilled certain religious reflexes and habits in him, such
that, when he left the Manichaeans, he adopted not just an alternative
philosophy—Platonism—but also, as complement to it, an alternative reli-
gious system—the Catholic one. In other words, he was able to take up the
life of a religious man because he had warmed to religion as a Manichaean,
and found in the Catholic Church of Milan a similarly elevated level of intel-
lectual engagement.
But who was this “Christ” to whom he maintained his allegiance? He
tells us himself, in the works written around the time of his conversion,
and also in hindsight in Confessions, where he retrospectively criticizes the
inadequacy of his understanding of Christ at that time. We note, first, that
Christ stands in good company, surrounded by other sages who excelled
in immediate perception of truth: Pythagoras, Plato, and Plotinus. Western
Manichaeans likewise regarded Pythagoras and Plato, along with Hermes
Trismegistus, as authentic sages of truth.19 In one sense, Augustine regarded
Jesus as simply the most accomplished of these figures, the one who had
most perfectly and directly served as a conduit of truth to humanity (Conf.
7.19.25). Yet there was also the Christ who stood for this truth itself, as the
“Power and Wisdom of God.” The characterization, derived from 1 Cor 1:24,
was a favorite among the Manichaeans, referring to Christ in his transcen-
dental aspect as nous and dynamis; and it likewise was Augustine’s favorite
way of referring to Christ throughout his early post-conversion writings (e.g.,
Acad. 2.1.1–2; beat. vit. 4.34; quant. an. 33.76; mor. 1.13.22, 16.28). In either
respect, Augustine understood Christ in the Manichaean sense as a revealer,
as a being who even in his death and resurrection simply communicated
certain insights and lessons for others to learn. Totally missing from the
early “Catholic” Augustine was any sense of Christ’s death as a redemptive
work.
Augustine did not simply shed all traces of his conditioning and think-
ing as a Manichaean when he received baptism and became a member of
the Catholic Church. He took the latter step with only limited exposure
to Nicene doctrine and Catholic practice. He appears to suggest that he
was hearing an exposition of the concept of the incarnation of Christ for
the first time during his Lenten preparation for baptism in the spring of
387 ce (ord. 2.9.27). This no doubt posed an intellectual challenge to him,
for whom the Platonic distinction between the intelligible and material
19 See Ephrem Syrus, Against Mani 208.22–24 (C.W. Mitchell, S. Ephraim’s Prose Refuta-
tions of Mani, Marcion, and Bardaisan, London: Williams and Norgate, 1912–1921), xcviii–xcix;
cf. Faust 13.1.
not to depart from christ 11
20 See, e.g., QA 33.76, and the discussion in William Mallard, “The Incarnation in Augus-
Augustine had two reasons for remaining, despite the risks, between Man-
ichaean and Catholic Christianity in his literary persona as a leader of the
Catholic community. In the first place, he had friends among the Manichae-
ans, for whose conversion he labored to a remarkable extent. His efforts
in this regard were neither perfunctory gestures nor performances for his
Catholic peers. He went out of his way to invoke the bonds of friendship
and past shared experience,21 as well as to sympathize with certain appeal-
ing features of Manichaean teaching.22 None of this would have endeared
him to the more conservative leaders of the African Catholic Church, just
as they would have been displeased by Augustine’s hints in various places
that he continued to converse with these “heretics” in private, and not just
in public debate. The latter more public engagement belongs to the second
reason Augustine took his stand between Manichaean and Catholic Chris-
tians: as an informed apostate, he possessed a unique vantage from which
to challenge and resist Manichaeans on the contested ground of “Christian-
ity,” over which his past and present communities competed. Manichaeism
occupies a part of Augustine’s rhetorical oeuvre comparable to that devoted
to the Donatists and Pelagians, and well eclipsing that devoted to paganism
or Judaism, because it represents a rival option of Christian faith—a distinct
and parallel trajectory of Christian development which itself was critical of
the “semi-Christianity” of the Catholics.
To understand how Manichaeism positioned itself as an alternative, and
indeed “true,” Christianity, we should think in terms of initially distinct
“eastern” and “western” trajectories of the Christian movement. These two
rival forms of Christianity were separated at birth, acculturated in different
environments, each in their own way shaped by and adapted to local condi-
tions. In the west, the Christian movement entered into a Hellenistic milieu
that played a large role in defining its modes of expression, the context of
assumptions within which it would possess meaning, its terminology and
practices. In the east, the Christian movement developed on the basis of
different cultural traditions and assumptions, producing something quite
distinct, which we call Manichaeism. Each developed selected features of
the shared root tradition, then collided in their differences, and proceeded
to define themselves over against each other.
For this reason, Augustine could not just treat Manichaeism as a rejected
“other,” a non-Christian heathenism. He had to deal with Manichaeans ref-
erencing Christian authorities (Jesus, Paul), and Christian themes (evil,
world as prison, enslavement to sin, soul’s desire for “return” to “another
world”). The Nicene tradition, in defining itself over against “heresies” such
as Manichaeism, had made certain contrasting choices. It had downplayed
or set aside features of the earlier Christian movement that had become too
closely associated with its rivals, just as those rivals likewise represented
developments of selected Christian themes. In the initial period following
his conversion, Augustine could still emphasize what these distinct sys-
tems shared in their basic concepts and goals for human fulfillment (mor.
1,4.6–7.12). The North African environment proved far less cosmopolitan
and tolerant, and Augustine had to contend with an intense three-way bat-
tle over the right to speak for Christianity among Donatist, Catholic, and
Manichaean Christians.
From about 388 to 392ce, Augustine dutifully repeated, explored, and
expounded the established Nicene positions he had been taught as a con-
vert, in all their obvious contrast to Manichaean views he had abandoned.
The lingering common ground with his former religion eroded away, and
he invoked Manichaean concepts only as a point of contrast to “true reli-
gion.” Then, for motives that he does not expressly identify, Augustine began
to reverse himself, gradually appropriating certain elements of the Chris-
tian tradition that Manichaeism uniquely emphasized, and that had been
neglected in the Nicene-Catholic tradition. While his motives remain uncer-
tain, the context of his shift is clear: his ongoing struggle with the Mani-
chaeans of North Africa, and his effort to convert them. This continuing
encounter with Manichaeans brought to Augustine’s attention aspects of
the Christian tradition that Nicene Christians had previously downplayed;
among these, Paul’s witness to the debility of the will, previously discounted
among Nicene Christians in favor of a free will position, stimulated Augus-
tine to rethink the entire economy of salvation.
14 jason david beduhn
23 See Jason BeDuhn, “Did Augustine Win His Debate with Fortunatus?” in J.A. van den
Berg, et al., eds., In Search of Truth. Augustine, Manichaeism & other Gnosticism: Studies for
Johannes van Oort at Sixty (Leiden-Boston: Brill 2011), 463–479; M.E. Alflatt, “The Devel-
opment of the Idea of Involuntary Sin in St. Augustine,” Recherches des Études Augustini-
not to depart from christ 15
will reading on the latter passage tells us all we need to know about where
Augustine stood at the time as a loyal son of the Catholic Church, defending
its free will position. Yet the way Fortunatus read Paul that day is largely
how Augustine read Paul five years later, albeit set within a radically dif-
ferent metaphysical and theological framework. In fact, Augustine yielded
some ground to Fortunatus’s reading of Paul in the immediate aftermath
of their debate, but only to find a stronger position from which to resist
Manichaeism. Drawing on sources within his own Nicene-Catholic tradi-
tion, as well as on a few suggestions of the Donatist writer Tyconius, he
formulated a rather stable, well-reasoned conception that explained Paul’s
expression of disability as due to the power of self-created habit, while at the
same time anchoring a qualified free will position around the idea of being
saved by faith—that is, freely willing to throw oneself on the mercy of God to
free one’s good will from powerlessness amid mortality and engrained habit.
He built into this construct an anti-Manichaean defense of the value of the
Old Testament law as the instrument through which God exposes human
incapacity to act rightly, and which thus drives those who want to be good
to reliance on faith (e.g., div. quaest. LXXXIII 66.1).24
This set of ideas, developed circa 392–396 ce, was a perfectly good answer
to Fortunatus and the Manichaeans, sufficiently consistent with the estab-
lished orthodox discourse on these subjects; and there was absolutely no
reason for Augustine to abandon it. But abandon it he did almost imme-
diately. In his response to questions on Romans posed by Simplician, Am-
brose’s successor as bishop of Milan, we see Augustine rapidly undercut the
role of the Old Testament as he develops the idea of the congruent call,
operating both externally in signs and internally in mental admonition, so
closely resembling the operations of the Manichaean Light Nous. We see
him disassemble his careful construct of salvation by faith, by giving this call
an absolute power to elect to salvation regardless of the presence or absence
of any predisposition to good will. We see him constructing, largely with
reference to the same Pauline passages cited by Fortunatus, a very similar
concept of salvation by grace, by some sort of predetermining election quite
similar to what Fortunatus and Faustus argued Paul meant in speaking of the
ennes 20 (1974) 113–134; idem, “The Responsibility for Involuntary Sin in Saint Augustine,”
Recherches Augustiniennes 10 (1975) 171–186; Elke Rutzenhöfer, “Contra Fortunatum Dispu-
tatio: Die Debatte mit Fortunatus,” Augustiniana 42 (1992): 5–72; Paula Fredriksen, Augustine
and the Jews: A Christian Defense of Jews and Judaism (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010),
142–154.
24 See Fredriksen, op. cit., 155–189.
16 jason david beduhn
birth of the New Man, out of a mixed mass of good and bad elements in the
Old Man that is not really a conscious and responsible human being at all. If
today Christian theologians find in Paul the apostle of grace, it is due to the
powerful influence of Augustine, the doctor of grace. And even though there
are distinctive qualities to Augustine’s doctrine of grace that have nothing to
do with Manichaeism, the degree to which he found in Paul a source of such
an idea derives from his unique position between Manichaean and Nicene-
Catholic theology. So we can confirm the words of J. Kevin Coyle, “Without
Manichaeism, there would still have been Augustine, perhaps even Augus-
tine the great theologian; but it would have been a different Augustine, with
a different theology.”25
At the risk of appearing to be something of a Hegelian, I suggest that
Augustine in certain respects fashioned a historical synthesis out of the two
conflicting traditions that had successively claimed his allegiance. Few shy
away from saying as much about his blending of Platonism with Nicene
Christianity, perhaps because they buy into Augustine’s claim that Plato
was himself a kind of anticipatory Christian. But to say as much of his
use of Manichaean concepts stirs controversy because of the “heretical” or
even “non-Christian” character of that tradition. I find little use for such
predetermining boundary drawing. Everyone who came after Jesus within
the Christian tradition could be fairly characterized as a “heretic” of one kind
or another, because they introduced interpretations that cannot be shown
to be inherent in the teachings of Jesus himself—Ambrose, Athanasius,
Origen, Paul himself, are all Christian “heretics” in this regard. The question
of what may or may not be “Christian” comes to more or less the same thing.
If we are to avoid theologically normative assessments of what counts as
Christian, we must accept a community’s self-definition on whether or not
they belong to a particular religious tradition.
We can definitively leave behind the portrayal of Mani in the polemical
Acta Archelai, as someone who added to his teachings a veneer of Christian
content as a last-minute marketing ploy.26 A Christian impetus can be found
in Mani’s religion from its inception. But it is a Christian impetus received by
Mani in a distinctive, Asiatic context—and that made all the difference. Just
as Augustine found concordance between Christ and Plato, so Mani found
key alignments between Christ and Zoroaster and the Buddha, among other
spiritual forebears. Neither Augustine nor Mani considered themselves any
1–22, at 22.
26 See Acta Archelai 65.2–6.
not to depart from christ 17
less followers of Christ for doing so. Just as Augustine did not intend to
depart from Christ in leaving Manichaeism and becoming a Platonist and
Catholic, so Mani did not intend to depart from Christ in discerning a
universal religious message equally revealed by prophets across the globe
long before Jesus walked—or appeared to walk—upon the earth.
I would submit that Augustine, at least through the time when he com-
posed Confessions, remained convinced of the earnestness of Manichaean
aspirations to a spiritual, Christian life, however much he had concluded
that Manichaeism itself did not possess the resources to properly nurture
such aspirations. As mentioned before, one of the things Augustine appears
to have gotten wrong in his own practice of Manichaean Christianity was
his failure to internalize its confessional ethos. As a Catholic Christian, he
often asserted that Manichaean belief in the inherent divinity of the soul
necessarily precluded any sense of personal sinfulness. He reports this same
deficiency in his own case in the narrative of Confessions (Conf. 5.10.18). And
yet, he seems to have come to realize that Manichaeans at least aspired
to a confessional attitude, however much their ideology counter-acted it.
This realization provides the context for book 9 of Confessions where, as
Annemaré Kotzé has convincingly demonstrated, he prescribes the biblical
Psalms as the antidote to Manichaean self-exaltation.27 If only they could see
the effect the Psalms had on him, who once shared—as he saw it—their fail-
ure to truly confess. His rhetorical argument only works if he assumed they
genuinely aspired to such a confessional orientation to God, if he could offer
his “Catholic” method as a fulfillment of their “Manichaean” goals.
But even if he prescribed the words of the Old Testament as the humbling
antidote that would make Manichaeans into Catholics, Augustine goes on in
Confessions to radically qualify even the Bible’s authority in relation to what
he seems to imagine Manichaeans and Catholics share in their common
quest in search of truth. The Bible is, for Augustine, only a temporary instru-
ment of this search, necessitated by the fall into matter and the obscurity of
language (Conf. 13.20.28). Language itself is a consequence of fallenness and
loss of that transparency of self that souls enjoy apart from the lying garment
of the body (Conf. 13.23.34). If acceptance of the Old Testament constitutes
one of the chief distinctions separating Manichaeans from what Faustus
describes as the “semi-Christianity” of the Catholics, Augustine works to
grind down this hurdle in order for the Manichaeans to clear it. So, in books
11–13 of Confessions, he first demonstrates how allegorical interpretation
119–136.
18 jason david beduhn
takes away the features of the biblical text that offended the Manichaeans.
That is, he does not defend the literal meaning of the text to which they
objected, and insist they must withdraw those objections. Rather, implic-
itly treating their objections as valid, he points them to another level of
meaning—a level that is necessary in acknowledgment of the validity of the
problems with the literal level of meaning. Then, towards the end of book 13,
Augustine pointedly identifies the Bible with the “firmament” God created
in the Genesis story, which at one and the same time stabilizes human real-
ity in this world while separating human beings from direct communion
with God (Conf. 13.15.16–18). That is why, Augustine stresses, God will “roll
up” both the firmament of the sky and the firmament of the Bible, when
he welcomes among his elect those he has secretly selected, “before the fir-
mament was made” (Conf. 13.23.33), both inside and outside the Catholic
Church. These saved souls—chosen, called, enabled by God in a strikingly
Manichaean conception of grace, belong to an ultimate reality that tran-
scends the authority of the Bible and of the Church. Therefore, Augustine
appears to imply, to temporarily accept the authority of the Catholic Church
and its full Scripture amounts to a trifle, a mere “change of a few words and
sentiments,” that his Manichaean friends just might be willing to do for both
their immediate and ultimate good.28
Augustine signals through the composition of Confessions that he saw
himself as uniquely and providentially positioned between Manichaean and
Catholic Christianity for just this purpose. He would carry on in his efforts
for only a few more years, however. His hoped-for resolution of the division
between Manichaean and Catholics—perhaps too creative, abstract, and
mystical—failed to materialize in practical terms, and many of those he
hoped to convert remained resolutely within the Manichaean camp. The
tone of his anti-Manichaean writings became increasingly harsh, his new
arguments more defensive than inviting. Ultimately, he sanctioned coercive
measures to bring them into the Catholic Church, with only the consolation
that, as fellow Christians, forced conversion would not require them to
“depart from Christ.”
28 For a full development of this interpretation of Confessions book 13, see Jason BeDuhn,
1. Introduction
1 See conf. 5,7,3 (CCL 27: 58, 3; 2ff.): Iam uenerat Carthaginem quidam manichaeorum
omnes Fausti calumnias refutatas dumtaxat horum eius capitulorum … Cf. van den Berg
2010:181–184.
6 Faustus called Catholic Christians ‘semichristiani’ (c. Faust. 1,2).
20 jacob albert van den berg
7 C. Faust. 1,1 (6 f.): noueram ipse hominem, quemadmodum eum commemoraui in libris
he obeys the rule of Jesus, for example, about not carrying money in purses, and because in
his life one can observe the blessings of the gospel, as he is poor, meek, a peacemaker, pure
in heart, and so on. In 5,5 Augustine reminds his readers that the Manichaeans did not have
money in purses, but that they have money in boxes and bags. The following words are aimed
directly at Faustus: sleeping in a down-filled bed with blankets of goatskins, which is more
luxurious than the bed his poor father used to sleep in.
9 C. Faust.1,2: 4–7.
10 See van den Berg 2010:58.
11 For example, Houghton (2008:44ff.) minimizes possible Manichaean influence on Au-
manus nostras …
13 Although this appears rather obvious, one cannot be completely certain about this
biblical quotations in faustus’ capitula 21
his baptism and some 16 years after their last meeting. It is quite possible
that Faustus composed his book after Augustine’s conversion to Catholic
Christianity, and that Faustus’ opinions had changed over the years, or that
meantime his knowledge of Scripture had increased.
We may suppose that the analysis of Faustus’ Biblical quotations will
provide us with some clues about Augustine’s knowledge of Scripture during
his Manichaean years.
Because of the quantity of the work itself and the large number of Biblical
quotations, the focus here is on the Old Testament. This is still a rather large
field, and to come to grips with it, it is useful to have an idea of the context
of the quotations.
Whereas Adimantus’ Disputationes, another important Manichaean
work that was dedicated to Scriptural issues, seem to have been intended
for a more offensive purpose,14 the Capitula are written for a more defensive
task, as explicitly stated by Faustus himself:
Although sufficiently and even more than that, the errors of the Jewish
superstition have been brought to light, and likewise the deception of the
semi-Christians has abundantly been detected by the most learned Adiman-
tus—the only person whom we have to study after our blissful father Mani-
chaeus—it seems not unhelpful, dear brethren, to write for you these short
and polished answers on account of the crafty and cunning statements from
the conferences with us; by these, you yourselves should be equipped to
answer them vigilantly, when they should want to surround you as well with
deception by means of trifling questions, in accordance with the habit of their
forefather, the serpent.15
16 The introduction to the Capitula possibly indicates that the work was written during
Faustus’ time in exile. The defensive position of the book, as well as Faustus’ aim to instruct
other Manichaeans in how to answer difficult questions, could well indicate this.
17 See van den Berg 2010:183.
18 Decret 1996–2002:1246.
19 Monceaux 1924.
20 C. Faust. 8,1 (CSEL 25,1; 305, 16–18): nam pannum, inquit, nouum nemo adsuit uesti-
mento ueteri, alioquin maior scissura fiet. To this argument, Faustus adds (CSEL 25,1; 305,
26–306, 3): … quam miser et stultus et insuper ingratus ero, si me ultra addixero seruituti?
quippe Paulus inde Galatas arguit, quod in circumcisionem relabentes, ad infirma repedar-
ent et egena elementa, quibus denuo servire vellent.
biblical quotations in faustus’ capitula 23
21 Hic est filius meus, dilectissimus, credite illi (CSEL 25,1; 329, 12f.).
22 Etsi ego testificor de me, testimonium meum uerum est, quia non sum solus. nam et in
lege vestra scriptum est: duorum hominum testimonium uerum est. Ego sum qui testificor
de me, et testificatur de me qui me misit pater (CSEL 25,1; 329, 17–21); si mihi non creditis,
dicens, operibus credite (CSEL 25,1; 329, 22f.)
23 Alioquin nihil eos de Christo prophetasse abunde iam parentum nostrorum libris
ostensum est. ego uero illud adiciam, quia si Hebraici uates Christum scientes et praedicantes
tam flagitiose uixerunt (CSEL 25,1; 330, 10–14).
24 Faustus says (CSEL 25,1; 330, 7–12): quapropter haec strictim interim et castigate ad
full and fulfilled. Recently I suggested that the book Modion provides
the background for this image.25
This second stage of argument could be seen as a kind of preparation
for a third stage, which is concerned with two New Testament texts that
seem to imply that one should accept the Old Testament. This could be
regarded as the next counterargument from the Catholic Christian stand-
point, because it concerns texts that imply that Christ himself said that
Moses and the prophets wrote about him. In a discussion with Catholic
Christians, the words of Jesus comprise the most sensitive area.26 Therefore,
Faustus’ answers are quite long and have a personal, even emotional char-
acter:
– c. Faust. 16 starts with the questions: ‘Why don’t you accept Moses,
since Christ said: Moses wrote about me, and: If you should believe
Moses, you will also believe me’ (John. 5:46). This capitulum can be
regarded as an elaboration of c. Faust.12. There, Faustus quotes from
John.27 In c. Faust. 13,5 Augustine reacts to these texts by asking why
Faustus did not take into account the text under discussion in this
capitulum.28 So the discussion in c. Faust. 12, Augustine’s reaction to
it in c. Faust. 13, and the capitulum discussed here, may well reflect
a common line of argument in the debates between Catholic and
Manichaean Christians. The question itself is rather difficult for Faus-
tus, and he uses 8 paragraphs to answer it.
– c. Faust.17, 18 and 19 deal with one text (Mt. 5:17): Why don’t you accept
the law and the prophets, because Christ says: I did not come to destroy
them but to fulfill them. Again Faustus’ answers are quite long, with
many arguments put forward.
After this kind of climax, we find a single capitulum in c. Faust. 22 on the
question: ‘Why do you defame the Law and the prophets?’ The answer in 22
is important because it introduces many fresh arguments about the sinful
behavior of the prophets. In the remainder of the book, this argument is
used quite often, and its source is probably a Manichaean text (see c. Faust.
12).
The last cluster of arguments in which the Old Testament plays an impor-
tant role concerns the teachings of the Manichaeans themselves. In each
case, the Old Testament is used as a kind of weapon against the Catholic
Christians:
– c. Faust. 25 concerns the (in)finity of God.29 The Manichaeans do not
conceive of an omnipresent God. The teaching about two realms, one
of light and one of darkness, forbids this. In reaction to the question,
Faustus says that Catholic Christians themselves also have a restricted
God, because they call him the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Thus
Faustus uses the Catholic Christian esteem for the Old Testament to
defend himself.
– c. Faust. 26 discusses docetism: ‘How could Jesus have died, if he had
not been born?’ Faustus counters this problem by asking his opponent:
‘How can Elijah, Moses and Enoch have been born, when you do not
believe that they died?’
– c. Faust. 30 and 31 treat passages from the Letters to Timothy, quoted
to blame the Manichaeans. c. Faust. 30 discusses 1 Tim. 4:1 ff., which
speaks about people who seared their conscience with a branding
iron and err by forbidding marriage and by abstaining from food.30
Faustus avoids this difficult discussion by saying that the passage must
be spurious, because otherwise it would also be contrary to Moses
and prophets like Daniel. c. Faust. 31 considers 2Tim. 1:15: ‘To the pure,
all things are pure. But to the impure and defiled, nothing is pure.’31
Faustus again uses the example of Daniel to demonstrate that this text
must be considered spurious by Catholic Christians as well.
– c. Faust. 32 refers to the question why the Manichaeans do not accept
everything from the Gospel. The attitude of Catholic Christians to-
wards the Old Testament is used by Faustus as an argument against
accepting everything from the New Testament as well.
The last issue, found in c. Faust. 33, very fittingly discusses a subject con-
cerned with the ‘eschaton’. It deals with the question why the Manichaeans
29 Faustus dixit: Deus finem habet, aut infinitus est? (CSEL 25,1; 725, 2).
30 Faustus dixit: De uobis iam dudum Paulus scripsit, quia discedent quidam a fide inten-
dentes spiritibus seductoriis, doctrinis daemoniorum, in hypocrisi loquentes mendacium,
cauteriatam habentes conscientiam suam, prohibentes nubere, abstinentes a cibis quos deus
creauit ad percipiendum cum gratiarum actione fidelibus (CSEL 25,1; 747, 25–748, 5).
31 Faustus dixit: Omnia munda mundis, inmundis autem et coinquinatis nihil mundum;
do not acknowledge the patriarchs, whereas Jesus said that many shall come
from east and west, and sit with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.32
Although the structure of the Capitula is not very tight, there is a kind of
thematic arrangement. There is a degree of continuous building on previous
sections to be identified, especially in the first half of the book. When we
read the Capitula as a scholarly textbook, Faustus’ arrangement makes some
sense.
After I identified this thematic arrangement, I reread Gregor Wurst’s
study of the structure of the Capitula, in which he denies the possibility of
a thematic order. Nevertheless, he argues on formal grounds that there is a
break after c. Faust. 11 and after 19. His argument is based on the use of the
singular in the questions in the first 10 Capitula and the use of the plural
in the next seven. The last 15 are different in appearance from the first two
groups.33 Wurst’s conclusion coincides largely with my findings.
As regards the form of the Old Testament texts used in the discussion, it can
be observed that many references are not quotations in a strict sense. In
most cases we find short references to names (Moses, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob
and so on), or subjects (such as commandments) from the Old Testament.
The majority of the discussion is not about a text (capitulum) from the Old
Testament, but about a subject.34
There are some lists of Old Testament subjects that appear quite reg-
ularly in the discussion: for example, laws;35 some clusters of curses;36 an
overview of important blessings;37 and a summary of the moral offences of
32 Faustus dixit: Scriptum est in euangelio: quia multi uenient ab oriente et occidente, et
recumbent cum Abraham et Isaac et Iacob in regno caelorum. uos ergo quare non accipitis
patriarchas? (CSEL 25,1; 784, 7ff.).
33 Wurst 2001/2012:318–322.
34 This could be regarded as an argument in favour of Wurst’s explanation of the ‘title’
of the Capitula (Wurst 2001/2012:308–313), which I accepted (van den Berg 2010:184). But cf.
van Oort (2010:530f.) who opines that capitula may be regarded as a terminus technicus for
Scriptural passages.
35 The list includes such areas as the Sabbath, circumcision, sacrifices, distinctions about
food, unleavened bread, the new moons, and so on. The argument is used in c. Faust. 4, 6,
19.4–6, 22.2, 25 and 32.3.
36 The curses included the one who hangs on a tree, who adores the moon, who does not
raise up any seed in Israel, and so on. See c. Faust. 14.1, 16.5, 19.5, 32.5.
37 For example, the promise of the land, enough food, long life, many children, and so on.
38 In c. Faust. 22.5, Faustus lists the examples of atrocities committed by renowned Jewish
forefathers. He recalls the history of Abraham and Hagar; Abraham who sold his wife both to
the Pharaoh and Abimelech; Lot who committed incest with his daughters; Isaac who, like his
father, sold his wife to Abimelech; Jacob who had four wives; Judah and his daughter-in-law
Tamar; David who, despite already having many wives, took Bathsheba as well and went on
to procure the death of her husband Uriah; Solomon who had 300 wives and 700 concubines
as well as many princesses; Hosea, the first prophet who had a number of children by a
prostitute with the approval of God; and, last but not least, Moses, who not only committed
murder, but also perpetrated a number of other cruelties. In c. Faust. 32.4, he mentions Judah
and Tamar; Lot and his daughters; Abraham, Jacob, David and Solomon. The argument is also
referenced in c. Faust. 12.1, 33.1 and 3.
39 … circumcisis et sacrificantibus et abstinentibus a porcina, ac reliquis carnibus, quas
samque inducit religionis huius hanc esse, quia deus cum mundum et quae in eo sunt omnia
fabricaret, sex diebus indulserit operi, septima uero cessauerit—quod est sabbatum—idcir-
coque benedixerit, id est sanctificauerit, tamquam suae tranquillitatis portum legemque
dederit insuper, ut qui idem solueret, occideretur (CSEL 25,1; 444, 14–20); … item Moyses car-
nis peritomen in sacris et deo amabilibus numerat iubetque circumcidi masculinum omne
carne praeputii ipsorum esseque hoc docet necessarium signum testamenti illius, quod
deus suus disposuerit ad Abraham, adfirmatque, quod utrorum uirorum quisquis hoc non
gestauerit, exterminabitur ille de tribu sua et haereditatis, quae Abrahae repromissa sit ac
semini eius, non ueniet in consortium (CSEL 25,1; 444, 26–445,7); item Moyses carnalium
ciborum sollicitam facit discretionem et inter pisces ac uolucres et quadrupedia helluo-
nis in modum disceptator sedet iubetque alia quidem abligutriri pro mundis, alia uero pro
inmundis ne contingi quidem: quorum in parte porcum taxat et leporem et si quid in pis-
cibus caret squama aut in quadrupedibus ungulam fissam non habet nec ruminat (CSEL 25,1;
445, 10–16).
28 jacob albert van den berg
another time of rams, or even he-goats (cf. e.g. Lev. 1–7), not to mention even
humans (cf. e.g. Gen. 22:2) and now exercise the practices for which we left
the idols, in a more cruel way under the prophets and the law? To conclude,
is it right to judge the meat of some dead animals as clean, and to treat others
as unclean and defiling (cf. Lev. 20:25), among which the flesh of the swine is
the most defiling according to the law and the prophets (e.g. Dt. 14:8)?41
There is, however, one interesting word in these lists. In c. Faust. 19,5 one
finds the following Old Testament laws:
I find sabbaths, circumcision, sacrifices, new moons, washings, unleavened
bread, distinction of food, drink, clothes and other things which will take too
long to discuss.42
This list of Old Testament laws is one of the longest we can find in c. Faust.
The word ‘washings’ is important. The Latin word used here, ‘baptismata’,
is a translation of the Hebrew כבס, which is in Greek: πλύνω. The com-
mon Latin translation is ‘lavare’. Neither the Greek verb ‘baptizomai’, nor
its noun—which would have been expected—is found in the LXX-text of
the Pentateuch, nor its Latin equivalent in the Vulgate. The rendering ‘bap-
tismata’ may have been influenced by Mk. 7:4: ‘And from the market, they
[sc. the Pharisees] do not eat anything unless it has been washed (baptizen-
tur).’43 It is a feature rather frequently found in Manichaean literature, that
OT-quotations are quoted in accordance with their New Testament form.44
I would cautiously propose another possibility as well. In the Capitula the
subject ‘cleaning’ and the specific word for it (‘baptismata’) is only found in
this list and in the next paragraph. In this capitulum Faustus argues autobi-
ographically, and he explicitly praises his teacher for preventing him from
obeying these rules.45 Quite possibly, the word ‘baptisms’ was written in one
talibus delectari? placet suscipere sabbatorum otium et Saturniacis manus insertare cate-
nis? placet ad ingluuiem Iudaeorum daemonis—neque enim dei—nunc tauros, nunc ari-
etes, nunc etiam hircos, ut non et homines dicam, cultris sternere, ac propter quod idola
sumus exosi, id nunc exercere crudelius sub prophetis ac lege? placet denique feralium cibo-
rum quaedam existimare munda, quaedam in inmundis et contaminatis habere, ex quibus
inquinatiorem porcinam lex asserunt et prophetae? (CSEL 25,1; 491, 3–13).
42 … inuenio sabbata, peritomen, sacrificia, neomenias, baptismata, azymophagias, cibo-
rum, discretiones potuum, uestimentorum, et alia quae percurrere longum est (CSEL 25,1;
501, 15ff.).
43 Et a foro nisi baptizentur non comedunt … (Vulg).
44 See van den Berg 2010:130.
45 Quare indeficientes ego praeceptori meo refero gratias, qui me similiter labantem
of the Manichaean books on these issues (or even more specifically on Mt.
5) that Faustus read when he was converted to Manichaeism. If this were the
case, one might wonder whether the word ‘baptisms’ was used because of
the debates of the Manichaeans with the baptizing community from which
they emerged. Possibly the baptizing community had a text tradition in
which an equivalent of ‘baptismata’ was used.
Apart from the short references to the Old Testament, there are also some
longer quotations from the Old Testament. These longer sentences from
the Old Testament (most of them are found in c. Faust. 16 and 17) have
characteristics in common with Adimantus’ quotations from Scripture in
his Disputationes.46 Very often one can find paraphrases, or combinations
of several texts. This feature has already been observed in the ‘quotations’
found in c. Faust. 16,647 and 18,2.48 A further example of a paraphrase is found
in c. Faust. 16,5 where Faustus refers to the law that a prophet who leads
the people astray, should be killed.49 A clear example of the combination of
different texts from Deuteronomy is found in c. Faust. 17.2.50
Sometimes Faustus’ quotation of the Old Testament appears to be influ-
enced by a New Testament rendering of an Old Testament text, as for exam-
ple in c. Faust. 16, 4 where we find: ‘His God said to Moses: I will raise up
for them a prophet from your brothers, like you’.51 This appears to quote Dt.
principem populi, qui eos a Deo suo uellet auertere aliquidue infringere mandatorum. Cf: Dt
13:5 propheta autem ille aut fictor somniorum interficietur quia locutus est ut vos averteret
a Domino Deo vestro qui eduxit vos de terra Aegypti et redemit de domo servitutis ut errare
te faceret de via quam tibi praecepit Dominus Deus tuus et auferes malum de medio tui
(Vulg.).
50 C. Faust. 17,2 (CSEL 25,1; 484, 16–21): in deuteronomio dicat: haec praecepta quae mando
tibi hodie, Israhel, obseruabis; et caue, ne declines ab iisdem neque in sinistram neque in
dexteram, nec addas quicquam eis, nec minuas: sed in iisdem perseuerabis, ut benedicat
te dominus deus tuus. This text is not found anywhere in the Deuteronomy in this form,
but cf. (in Vulg.) Dt. 4:40 custodi praecepta eius atque mandata quae ego praecipio tibi ut
bene sit tibi et filiis tuis post te et permaneas multo tempore super terram quam Dominus
Deus tuus daturus est tibi; and Dt. 5:32: custodite igitur et facite quae praecepit Dominus
Deus vobis non declinabitis neque ad dextram neque ad sinistram [:33] sed per viam quam
praecepit Dominus Deus vester ambulabitis ut vivatis et bene sit vobis et protelentur dies in
terra possessionis vestrae; and as well Dt. 12:32 quod praecipio tibi hoc tantum facito Domino
nec addas quicquam nec minuas.
51 Deus suus loquitur ad Moysen dicens: suscitabo illis prophetam de fratribus ipsorum
18:15.52 Faustus’ text, however, is a bit shorter, for it lacks the phrase ‘from
your race’ (‘de gente tua’). Interestingly, this is also the case in Acts 3:22,53
which may well indicate that the New Testament version influenced Faus-
tus’ quotation.
A remarkable feature is found in c. Faust. 16,5. There, Faustus explicitly
criticizes the Catholic Christian reading of the text and Faustus’ remark is
certainly apposite:
Or will you bring up, what you use to employ: They will see their life hanging,
and not believe? To which you add ‘on the wood’; for it [sc. the passage] does
not have these words.54
52 Prophetam de gente tua et de fratribus tuis sicut me suscitabit tibi Dominus Deus tuus
vestris tamquam me ipsum audietis iuxta omnia quaecumque locutus fuerit vobis (Vulg.).
54 An illud offeremus ei, quod perinde soletis inducere: uidebunt uitam suam pendentem,
et non credent? cui uos quidem adicitis “in ligno;” nam non habet (CSEL 25,1; 443, 8–10). Cf.
Dt. 28:66: et erit vita tua quasi pendens ante te timebis nocte et die et non credes vitae tuae
(Vulg).
55 See e.g., c. Faust. 13, 1 (CSEL 25,1: 378, 1–5): unde si mihi adhuc in paterna religione
moranti praedicator adueniens Christum uellet ex prophetis insinuare, hunc ego protinus
dementem putarem, qui gentili mihi et longe alterius religionis homini de magis dubiis dubia
conaretur astruere; 15, 1 (CSEL 25,1: 417, 24ff.): nobis uero in hoc quid opus est uel praecepto,
quibus ex gentilitate conuersis ad Christum Hebraeorum deus non mortuus debet uideri, sed
nec natus?
56 See n. 15.
57 See van den Berg 2010, esp. 96–102.
biblical quotations in faustus’ capitula 31
58 C. Faust. 12, 1 (CSEL 25,1: 330, 7–12): quapropter haec strictim interim et castigate ad
interrogationem tuam responderim, quia quaeris, cur non accipiamus prophetas; alioquin
nihil eos de christo prophetasse abunde iam parentum nostrorum libris ostensum est. ego
uero illud addiciam, quia si Hebraici uates Christum scientes et praedicantes tam flagitiose
uixerunt.
59 See n. 38 to gain an impression of its contents.
60 C. Faust. 19, 5 (CSEL 25,1: 501, 1–4): Quare indeficientes ego praeceptori meo refero
curiosissime legerim; c. Faust. 16, 3 (CSEL 25,1: 442, 4–7): Quamuis ergo et haec non parua
uideantur ad confirmandam suspicionem falsi de capitulo isto, plus tamen illo teneor, quia
omnem, ut dixi, Moyseos scripturam scrutatus, nullas ibi de Christo prophetias inueni.
62 See above n. 23.
32 jacob albert van den berg
63 C. Faust. 16,4 (CSEL 25,1: 442, 23ff.): Quid ergo ostendemus? An illud quod uos soletis, ubi
deus suus loquitur ad Moysen dicens: suscitabo illis prophetam de fratribus ipsorum similem
tibi?; and 16,5 (CSEL 25,1: 443, 8ff.): An illud offeremus ei, quod perinde soletis inducere:
uidebunt uitam suam pendentem, et non credent? cui uos quidem adicitis “in ligno;” nam
non habet.
64 See above n. 54.
65 This is so at least for the texts from Moses in c. Faust. 16,5 (see n. 51); and ??: (CSEL 25,1:
443, 21–23): … aut illud aliud, interficiendum esse prophetam siue principem populi, qui eos
a deo suo uellet auertere aliquodue infringere mandatorum.
66 See van den Berg 2010:168–170; BeDuhn 2007.
67 C. Faust. 19,1 (CSEL 25,1; 496, 21–23): Faustus dixit: Non ueni soluere legem et prophetas,
sed adinplere. Ecce iam consentio dictum. quaerendum tamen est, cur hoc dixerit Iesus …
biblical quotations in faustus’ capitula 33
what is according to the law; and thus, they who do not have a law, are a law
to themselves, who show the work of the law written in their hearts. The third
kind of law is that of the truth, what is indicated by the apostle, when he says:
Because the law of the spirit of the life in Christ Jesus has liberated me from
the law of sins and death. So there are three kinds of law.68
In 19,3 Faustus continues with an investigation into the question of what
kind of law Jesus had in mind when he said that he did not come to destroy
but to fulfil it. Faustus analyses the speech of Jesus on the law in Mt. 5 and
comes to the conclusion that he will have meant the law that a person shall
not kill, shall not commit adultery, and shall not bear false witness. This law
was, according to Faustus, promulgated by Enoch and Seth and the other
just men, to whom the glorious angels had given these commands.69 The
school of Marcion cannot have inspired Faustus to develop the line of rea-
soning found in c. Faust. 19,3. This tradition considered Mt. 5:17, which says
that Jesus came not to destroy but to fulfill the law and prophets, as spuri-
ous.70 Furthermore, the concept of a threefold law does not agree with their
antithetical ideas.71 In addition, the context in c. Faust. clearly demonstrates
that the solution used in c. Faust. 19,3 was not Faustus’ first preference.72
68 C. Faust. 19,2 (CSEL 25,1; 497, 17–28): Sunt autem legum genera tria: unum quidem
Hebraeorum, quod peccati et mortis Paulus appellat; aliud uero gentium, quod naturale
uocat. gentes enim, inquit, naturaliter, quae legis sunt, faciunt; et eiusmodi legem non
habentes ipsi sibi sunt lex, qui ostendunt opus legis scriptum in cordibus suis. tertium uero
genus legis est ueritas, quod perinde significans apostolus dicit: lex enim spiritus uitae in
Christo Iesu liberauit me a lege peccati et mortis. tribus ergo existentibus legibus et Iesu
adseuerante nobis, quia non uenit soluere legem, sed adinplere, non parua cura ac diligentia
opus est, de qua earum dixerit intellegere.
69 C. Faust. 19.3 (CSEL 25,1; 498, 12–25): Lege ergo tripartita, et tripartitis prophetis, de
quonam eorum Iesus dixerit, non satis liquet, est tamen conicere ex consequentibus, etenim
si circumcisionem statim nominaret et sabbata ac sacrificia et obseruationes Hebraicas
inque eas aliquid adinpletionis gratia protulisset, dubium non erat, quin de Iudaeorum
lege dixisset et prophetis, quia eos non soluere uenerit, sed adinplere. ubi uero horum
quidem nihil memorat, sola uero recenset antiquiora praecepta, id est: non occides, non
moechaberis, non peierabis—haec autem erant antiquitus in nationibus, ut est in promptu
probare, olim promulgata per Enoch et Seth et ceteros eorum similes iustos. quibus eadem
illustres tradiderint angeli temperandae in hominibus gratia feritatis—cui non uideatur hoc
eum de ueritatis dixisse lege et eius prophetis?
70 See, for example, Tertullianus, Adversus Marcionem IV,9,14; cf. Löhr 1996:79. For Mar-
cion and his teachings, see Harnack 1924, May 2002 and Räisänen 2005.
71 See May 1997:197.
72 See c. Faust 17;18; and 19.3 (CSEL 25,1; 499–500,2): quod si et tibi ita intellegere placet,
non ab re erit et illud dixisse Iesum, quia non venit solvere Legem, sed adimplere. Sin haec
nostra tibi displicet expositio, aliam quaere: tantum ne Iesum mentitum dicere cogaris; aut
te necesse sit Iudaeum fieri: ne etiam nunc Legem solvere perseveres, quam ipse non solvit.
And 19,5 (CSEL 25,1: 501, 1–8): quare indeficientes ego praeceptori meo refero gratias, qui me
34 jacob albert van den berg
5. Conclusions
The form of the quotes from the Old Testament in the Capitula, as well
as Faustus’ references to Manichaean books, suggest that much of the Old
Testament material used by Faustus had its origin in Manichaean sources.
Especially Adimantus is an important authority. This can be concluded from
Faustus’ words in praise of Adimantus in the introduction to the Capitula.
Furthermore, the general standpoint on the Old Testament and its supposed
influence on the New Testament are largely in agreement with Adimantus’
opinions.
As a result, it is most probable to suppose that the Old Testament texts
used in the Capitula were known to Faustus before his encounter with
Augustine. Only some prophecies about Christ that Faustus learned from
Catholic opponents could stem from a later date than 384. The Faustus of
the Capitula will not have been very different from the one Augustine came
across in Carthage. Therefore, the contents of the Capitula will be of no
surprise to Augustine.
After all, it is reasonable to suppose that most of the Old Testament
quotes in the Capitula belonged to the standard material of the Manichaean
missionaries ever since Adimantus. This material was known to Augustine
as a candidate for conversion to Manichaeism, but also as a Manichaean
hearer involved in debates with Catholic Christians. As a result one should
similiter labentem retinuit, ut essem hodie Christianus. Nam ego quoque, cum capitulum hoc
imprudens legerem, quemadmodum tu, pene ieram in consilium Iudaeus fieri.
73 C. Faust. 22,2 (CSEL 25,1, 591, 17–19): sed eam quae vere sit lex, id est: non occides,
non moechaberis, non peiurabis, et caetera. Cf as well c. Faust. 32,1 (CSEL 25,1; 76026–761,
2): et pauca quaedam disciplinae civilis praecepta communia, ut est: non occides, non
moechaberis, caetera praetermittitis …
74 Other Gnostic groups were less rigid than Marcion and his pupils; see May 1987/88:148
and Löhr 1996. Faustus could well have learned this less strict stance to the Old Testament
from Manichaean sources, because Adimantus appears to have been much more critical to
the Old Testament than Mani; see van den Berg 2010:170–173.
biblical quotations in faustus’ capitula 35
Bibliography
BeDuhn, J., 2007, ‘Biblical Antitheses, Adda, and the Acts of Archelaus’, in: idem et
al. (eds.), Frontiers of Faith. The Christian Encounter with Manichaeism in the Acts
of Archelaus, Brill, Leiden-Boston, 131–147.
van den Berg, J.A., 2010, Biblical Argument in Manichaean Missionary Practice. The
Case of Adimantus and Augustine, Brill, Leiden-Boston.
Decret, F., 1996–2002, ‘Faustum, contra’, Augustinus-Lexikon vol. 2, Schwabe Verlag,
Basel, 1244–1255.
Harnack, A. von, 19242, Marcion: Das Evangelium vom fremden Gott. Eine Mono-
graphie zur Geschichte der Grundlegung der katholischen Kirche, J.C. Hinrichs,
Leipzig (repr. Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, Darmstadt 1996).
Hougthon, H.A.G., 2008, Augustine’s Text of John. Patristic Citations and Latin Gospel
Manuscripts, Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Löhr, W, 1996, ‘Die Auslegung des Gesetzes bei Markion, den Gnostikern und den
Manichäern’, in: G. Schöllgen and C. Scholten (eds.), Stimuli. Exegese und ihre
Hermeneutik in Antike und Christentum. Festschrift für Ernst Dassmann (Jahrbuch
für Antike und Christentum—Ergänzungsband 23), Aschendorffsche Verlags-
buchhandlung, Münster, 77–95.
May, G., 1987/88, ‘Marcion in Contemporary Views: Results and Open Questions’,
Second Century 6,3, 129–151.
———, 1997, ‘Marcions Genesis Auslegung und die “Antithesen”’, in: D. Wyrwa et
al. (eds.), Die Weltlichkeit des Glaubens in der Alten Kirche. Festschrift für Ulrich
Wickert zum siebzigsten Geburtstag, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin-New York 1997,
189–198.
May, G. et al. (eds.), 2002, Marcion und seine kirchengeschichtliche Wirkung, Walter
de Gruyter, Berlin-New York.
Monceaux, P., 1924, Le manichéen Faustus de Milev. Restitution de ses Capitula, Im-
primerie Nationale, Paris.
van Oort, J., 2010, ‘Manichaean Christians in Augustine’s Life and Work’, Church
History and Religious Culture 90.4, Brill, Leiden-Boston, 505–546.
Räisänen, H., 2005, ‘Marcion’, in: A. Marjanen & P. Luomanen (eds.), A Companion
to Second-Century Christian ‘Heretics’, Brill, Leiden-Boston, 100–124.
Wurst, G., 2001/2012, ‘Bemerkungen zu Struktur und genus litterarium der Capitula
des Faustus von Mileve’, in: J. van Oort et al. (eds.), Augustine and Manichaeism in
and Manichaean Christianity’, Prof. Dr. Johannes van Oort, not only for the conference, but
also for his ideas on Augustine and Manichaeism over the years. I profited much from the
questions and suggestions of the participants. Prof. Majella Franzmann was so kind as to
make corrections to the English version of my paper, for which I am very grateful.
36 jacob albert van den berg
Majella Franzmann
1 Hinc est quod mendicanti homini, qui Manichaeus non sit, panem uel aliquid frugum
uel aquam ipsam, quae omnibus uilis est, dare prohibetis, ne membrum dei, quod his rebus
admixtum est, suis peccatis sordidatum a reditu impediat; CSEL 90: p. 121, 18–22.
2 Dum enim times, ne dei tui membrum ligetur in carne, non das esurienti panem;
bus, propter quos nascerentur. Si quis enim esuriens peteret, qui manichaeus non esset, quasi
capitali supplicio damnanda buccella uideretur, si ei daretur; CCL 27: p. 37, 10–13.
4 My thanks to Jacob Albert van den Berg for his discussion with me about Augustine’s
5 J.D. BeDuhn, The Manichaean Body in Discipline and Ritual. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
ism and Gnosticism. Studies for Johannes van Oort at Sixty. Edited by Jacob Albert van den
Berg, Annemaré Kotzé, Tobias Nicklas and Madeleine Scopello, NHMS 74, Leiden: Brill, 2011,
235–243.
augustine and manichaean almsgiving 39
b. In Practice
The Coptic and Greek letters found on the Dakhleh Oasis in the 4th cen-
tury ce Egyptian Roman town of Kellis provide good insight into the every-
day life and concerns of a small Manichaean community.11 In particular we
gain a very good idea of the life of the women of the community, and the
8 H.-J. Klimkeit, Gnosis on the Silk Road: Gnostic Texts from Central Asia. New York, 1993,
203.
9 All references to the Kephalaia (Keph) are from I.M.F. Gardner, The Kephalaia of the
Teacher. The edited Coptic Manichaean texts in translation with commentary. NHMS 37, Lei-
den: Brill, 1995.
10 Klimkeit, Gnosis on the Silk Road, 151.
11 I.M.F. Gardner et al (eds.), Coptic Documentary Texts from Kellis, Volume 1: P. Kell. V
(P. Kell. Copt. 10–52; O. Kell. Copt. 1–2). Dakhleh Oasis Project Monograph series 5. Oxford:
Oxbow, 1999; K. Worp, Greek Papyri from Kellis. I (P.Kell.G.), Nos. 1–90 edited by K.A. Worp,
in Collaboration with J.E.G. Whitehorne and R.W. Daniel. Dakhleh Oasis Project Monograph
3/Oxbow Monograph 54. Oxford: Oxbow Books, 1995.
40 majella franzmann
roles they played on the oasis while the men were absent on business. They
are the principal sources for our knowledge of almsgiving in that community
and, interestingly in this particular situation of almsgiving, their business
and spiritual lives go hand in hand. Apart from or together with what might
be inherited, business is one way of acquiring resources so that alms can be
given.
There is not space in this present work to deal in detail with resources
gained, either through inheritance or business, by the women whose lives
are set before us in the Kellis letters. Suffice it to say that there are women
on the oasis who have the wherewithal to give alms, as is clear both from
letter writers who ask them for alms, and from the letters of the women
themselves detailing their almsgiving. While the women carry out some
financial activity on behalf of their menfolk, it is also clear that they have
resources in their own right. The business accounts, P. Kell. Copt. 44–50,
that appear to relate to the weaving business of the woman named Tehat,
are evidence of this.12 They show that Tehat is an active and successful
business woman. She pays wages, employs workers and oversees their work,
negotiates business and profits with a male partner, and perhaps also runs a
camel freight business. P. Kell. Copt 32 and 33 provide evidence of a similar
occupation of weaving or tailoring for the female catechumen, Eirene.13 The
same occupations are shared by other women on the oasis.
The Kellis documents indicate that women are very active in legal and
financial matters in the community, owning property and goods, buying
and selling goods and their own labour, and lending and borrowing money.
Apart from a few cases none of the women appear to be rich, and their
financial and legal activity is limited to the village or to the oasis area.
Nevertheless the women are fully and actively involved. Some of these
women are, like Tehat and Eirene, Manichaeans. They and other women
like them are generous with the fruits of their business. As to who benefits
from the generosity of the Manichaean women, there are requests and
subsequent gifts to those we presume are the Elect. These gifts include both
clothes and food. P. Kell. Copt. 31 is from an anonymous writer to a group
12 For a more detailed work on Tehat, see M. Franzmann, ‘Tehat the Weaver: Women’s
Experience in Manichaeism in 4th Century Roman Kellis’, Australian Religion Studies Review
20/1 (2007): 17–26.
13 For a more detailed study of Eirene, see M. Franzmann, “An ‘Heretical’ Use of the New
Testament: a Manichaean Adaptation of Matt 6:19–20 in P. Kell. Copt. 32,” The New Testament
Interpreted. Essays in Honour of Bernard C. Lategan, Eds. C. Breytenbach, J. Thom, and J. Punt,
Novum Testamentum Supplementum 124, Leiden: Brill, 2006, 153–162.
augustine and manichaean almsgiving 41
14 P. Brown. ‘Alms and the Afterlife: A Manichaean View of an Early Christian Prac-
tice’, East & West: Papers in History Presented to Glen W. Bowersock. Eds. T.C. Brennan and
H.I. Flower. Loeb Classical Monographs 14. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2008,
147–149.
15 A. Alcock ‘The Agape’, VC 54 (2000): 208.
16 Brown, ‘Alms and the Afterlife’, 152–155.
17 W. Sundermann, ‘A Manichaean Liturgical Instruction on the Act of Almsgiving’, The
Light and the Darkness. Studies in Manichaeism and its World. Eds. P. Mirecki and J. BeDuhn,
NHMS 50, Leiden: Brill, 2001, 206.
42 majella franzmann
menfolk were away on business. Eirene and Tehat are typical of the women
in this close community—good business women and firm believers.
We are concerned in this study with food alms, not all almsgiving. As
to other types of almsgiving, including clothing, we also have no evidence
of injunctions to give exclusively to Manichaeans. However, there are clear
injunctions to catechumens who wish to be perfect in Keph 229.4–10 that
their whole focus must be unfailingly on the Elect and the Manichaean
community. They must withdraw all consideration from the world and set
their heart on the holy church; they must place all their treasure in the Elect
men and women.
The majority of cases of almsgiving documented for the Manichaean
community at Kellis appear to bear out the truth of Augustine’s statements
that community almsgiving, at least with food and drink, was completely
exclusive. However, we have one reference to a male, Tehat’s son, being
encouraged to give alms, and it is this text that is problematical. In P. Kell.
Copt. 43, Tehat urges her son to do charitable deeds for some orphans, giving
them baked loaves but also perhaps pots of something else. The recipients
are simply referred to as ‘orphans’, and there is no way of knowing whether
these orphans belong to the Manichaean community or not.
It is possible that the term ‘orphans’ is a kind of shorthand for giving
to those in need within the community, as ‘widows and orphans’ seems
to be a kind of shorthand in, for example, the Hebrew scriptures for those
who receive almsgiving or care from God and those close to God (e.g.
Ps 68:5; Is 1:17; Ex 22:22). The two categories also go together in a positive
context in the Manichaean Psalm Book: ‘Thou hast cared for the widow, thou
hast clothed the orphans’ (53.24–25); ‘Thou bearest witness of my course,
o blessed Light, that I have ministered to the widows, the orphans, the
Righteous’ (62.16–17).18
In a later passage, the writer appears to reference Matt 25:34–36:
I prayed, I sang, I gave alms.
I served all thy holy ones.
I clothed thy orphans.
I closed not my door in the face of the holy.
I fed the hungry, I gave drink to the thirsty. (175.20–24)
18 My thanks to Prof Johannes van Oort for sharing his thoughts about the use of the term
‘orphans’ in relation to these passages from the Manichaean Psalm Book. All references to
the Manichaean Psalm Book (PsB) are from C.R.C. Allberry, (ed.) A Manichaean Psalm-Book:
Part II, Manichaean Manuscripts in the Chester Beatty Collection 2. Stuttgart: W. Kohlham-
mer, 1938.
augustine and manichaean almsgiving 43
Having left family and become a stranger, leaving ‘the things of the body’,
makes the use of the term ‘orphan’ seem far less about the physical reality
and more about a spiritual loss of family. One becomes a stranger, an orphan,
by leaving kin and community in the world. A final passage in the Psalm
Book makes this much clearer. In a reworking of Jn 20:11–18 in which Jesus
meets Mary Magdalene after the resurrection, he exhorts her: ‘Cast this
sadness away from thee and do this service: be a messenger for me to
these wandering orphans. Make haste rejoicing, and go unto the Eleven’
(PsBk 187.11–13). The Eleven disciples are wandering orphans in need of
his message, as the Gospel of John also suggests will be the case for the
disciples after Jesus’ death (Jn 14:18). It is entirely possible that the orphans
at Kellis are orphans in a spiritual sense, part of the Manichaean community,
much as PsBk 62.16–17 groups together orphans and the Righteous. Although
the letters seem to be entirely matter-of-fact and down to earth such that
orphans would be interpreted as physical orphans, nevertheless we also
have the use of terms like ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ that appear also to be spiritual
rather than blood kinship terms. If all are orphans with only the heavenly
Father, or spiritual fathers and mothers among the Elect, for parents, then all
Manichaean ‘strangers’ are brothers and sisters. Thus, while the ambiguity
remains, it is possible that we have an entirely exclusive community of
Manichaeans at Kellis, at least in terms of sharing food.
any way who does not have this power of the spirit.19 While the passage is
in reference to Daniel as the only one to receive a vision (Dan 10:7) and
thus may refer to a person’s ability to have visions only if they are among
the saints and those who fear Christ, it may also be a general statement
about any assistance from members of the community to those outside.
For an example of exclusivism centred on food, however, one need look no
further than Acts 6:1 with the disputes over the distribution of food to the
needy (widows) in the early Jerusalem community, which differs so much
from the first narrative about a community owning all things in common
(Acts 4:32). Interestingly the lines of exclusivism here are drawn between
two ethnic groups, the Hellenists (Greek-speaking Jews) and the Hebrews
(Aramaic-speaking Jews). While not an example of absolute exclusivism, Gal
6:10 too shows a community whose preference is for doing good especially
to their own.
While we might agree that there are good theological reasons for Mani-
chaeans not providing food alms to non-Manichaeans, we should also look
deeper for the basis for such a theological viewpoint within the basic Mani-
chaean mythology. If we go back to the example of Hippolytus and consider
the time in which he writes and the relatively early phase of development
of Christian communities in which he was living, characterized by spo-
radic persecution but also a degree of social and political discrimination,
we would not be surprised by a viewpoint that is somewhat akin to that
found in many Gnostic texts, that the community is made of those whose
homeland is above and who are gathered ghetto-like as a party of foreigners
within this world.
However, even in our own time exclusivist groups do not always deny
charity to others. While the Exclusive Brethren withdraw from the world
so as not to be polluted by it, and do a great deal of charitable giving but
only within the group, on the other hand the old order Mennonites all do
philanthropy outside the group. Moreover, one cannot put down exclusive
giving necessarily to a lack of resources to do more outside a group.20 The
Exclusive Brethren, for example, run extremely successful small-to-medium
19 G. Bardy and M. LeFèvre, Commentaire sur Daniel: Texte établi et traduit, Sources chré-
and D.B. Kraybill, The Riddle of Amish Culture. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press,
Rev. ed., 2001. My thanks to Prof Marion Maddox (Macquarie University, Sydney), for her
helpful discussion of contemporary exclusivist religious groups.
augustine and manichaean almsgiving 45
businesses and use the tax and welfare systems adroitly to maximise their
incomes, so there is no lack of resource if the group wished to give more
widely in the community.
Interestingly, the exclusivity both of the Exclusive Brethren and of the
Manichaeans is based in a repudiation of the world; in the case of the
Manichaeans, a world that entraps the light in its darkness. One entraps the
light further by giving food alms to non-Manichaeans. On the other hand,
one enables the release of the light by giving food alms for the agape (e.g.
P. Kell. Copt. 47), ensuring salvation for the community over against the
world and the darkness. How are we to understand such exclusive behav-
ior that draws the community together against the world? As far as I can
ascertain, social scientists have not yet provided us with a typology of exclu-
sive groups, but there has been work by anthropologists that might prove
helpful for us, on the features of ethnic groups and how they interact within
larger social settings. The work of Fredrik Barth is particularly apposite in
providing parallels with Manichaean groups:
When defined as an ascriptive and exclusive group, the nature of continu-
ity of ethnic units is clear: it depends on the maintenance of a boundary.
The cultural features that signal the boundary may change, and the cultural
characteristics of the members may likewise be transformed, indeed, even
the organizational form of the group may change—yet the fact of contin-
uing dichotomization between members and outsiders allows us to specify
the nature of continuity, and investigate the changing cultural form and con-
tent.21
Thus while cultural and social differences between Manichaean groups
in varying geographical locations may influence organizational forms or
certain practices, what is continuous across these groups is the foundational
mythology of a world of darkness in which the community struggles to free
the light entrapped here. The maintenance of a boundary between those
who are central to that struggle and those who live in ignorance within the
darkness is crucial. The sign and maintenance of that boundary is contained
within the simplest of practices—who may eat with whom.
Of course the idea of group boundaries and related ideas about, or group
practices with, food can be found in the work of the anthropologist Mary
Douglas. Many years ago I used her work as the basis for a study of the New
Testament Jesus and the symbols of food and body that underpinned his
21 F. Barth (ed.), ‘Introduction’, Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: the social organization of
inclusive view of the reign of God.22 It seems now that the negative side
of that theory could be used to good effect when studying the Manichaean
attitude to food and food alms. For Douglas, body imagery used by a partic-
ular culture, or cultural subset, reflects social order. The treatment of bodily
orifices/margins in particular is of great significance since they symbolise
potential vulnerability for that social order, and, I would add in the case of
the Manichaeans, the spiritual order. Where political or physical boundaries
are at risk from others, whatever comes from body orifices, and thus moves
across the body boundary, can be the source of great risk and needs to be
dealt with as a priority:23
Interest in its (the body’s) apertures depends on the preoccupation with
social exits and entrances, escape routes and intrusions. If social boundaries
have no meaning, I would not expect to find concern with bodily bound-
aries …24
Since food enters and leaves the body by way of its orifices, food imagery
is thus intimately connected with body imagery, and especially imagery to
do with body margins. Thus if body margins/orifices are of high impor-
tance for the structuring imagery of a society, food will be also by corol-
lary.25
Of course I am not suggesting that there are strong and exact parallels
between the ancient Jewish dietary laws that were the focus of Douglas’
study, and the ideas around food and exclusion in Manichaeism, but this
kind of anthropological theory could be used to advance our understanding
of Manichaean practices with food. Such a study would build on Jason
BeDuhn’s work on the Manichaean body. BeDuhn writes of the Manichaean
prohibition of food alms to the poor in terms of an overwhelming concern
for body margins, and the pollution experienced in transgressing those
margins first and foremost through sexual intercourse:
… Manichaean food-economy is not about charity or the cultivation of com-
mensality. Alms within the Manichaean community are literally korban, set
aside for the altar of sacrifice and forbidden to profane consumption.
22 M. Franzmann, ‘Of Food, Bodies, and the Boundless Reign of God’, Pacifica 5 (1992):
17–31.
23 M. Douglas, Purity and Danger. An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. London:
Action: Proceedings of the 1969 Annual Spring Meeting of the American Ethnological Society.
Ed. by R.F. Spencer, Seattle: American Ethnological Society, 1969, 71.
25 Douglas, Purity and Danger, 126–127.
augustine and manichaean almsgiving 47
The sins of the non-Manichaean which threaten to defile the divine substance
in food include, first and foremost, sexual intercourse, which congeals the
substance into a soul locked into a new body …26
One question remains to be addressed. How does such a concern for mar-
gins, mythological and social, fit a group like the Manichaeans who were
such successful missionaries, evangelizing across the known world to win
people to their universal religion? The two ideas and practices seem to be
mutually exclusive, and yet I consider that the answer can be found in the
underlying myth. The struggle between the worlds of light and darkness
requires that the Manichaeans work to erect strict boundaries if they are to
have any hope of salvation as a part of the victory of the world of light. The
Manichaeans are basically strangers in this world of darkness, and they erect
boundaries to ensure they remain strange to the darkness. While an inner
conviction about being strangers in the world and repudiating the world
may appear to sit uncomfortably alongside a missionary effort that offers
salvation to all, the goal of that missionary effort is to teach others likewise
to become strangers, living to release the light from the darkness, rather than
taking on the darkness/sin of the world in order to make it whole and heal it.
So in a sense there is complete resonance between the universalizing mes-
sage and practice and the underlying mythology.27
3. Conclusion
There is much that would still lend itself to fruitful enquiry in relation to
the Manichaean practice with food alms. I have limited the discussion of
that activity to the general setting that Augustine would have known—
Manichaeans in the 3rd/4th century Roman world, rather than the full range
of Manichaean communities that eventually stretched as far east as China.
Let me return finally to those 3rd/4th century Manichaean women at
Kellis. What might such a practice with food alms mean to the women,
and what might this demand of them within a small town setting? A small
community expects and supports behaviours that are different from those
in a large town, so I would suggest that the way of life of the Manichaean
women at Kellis might be somewhat different from Manichaean women in
Alexandria, for example. Moreover, how might the Manichaeism that came
to Kellis have been changed in the actual lived experience there? What Barth
writes of “the effects of ecology” on ethnic groups, might also be true of the
Manichaeans at Kellis:
The overt cultural forms which can be itemized as traits exhibit the effects of
ecology. By this I do not mean to refer to the fact that they reflect a history
of adaptation to environment; in a more immediate way they also reflect the
external circumstances to which actors must accommodate themselves. The
same group of people, with unchanged values and ideas, would surely pur-
sue different patterns of life and institutionalize different forms of behaviour
when faced with the different opportunities offered in different environ-
ments?28
In small towns, everyone is needed to keep the town going and working.
Would all those at Kellis be expected to give to the needy? What might
happen if Manichaeans were not seen to be doing their civic duty? If these
Manichaean women were converts, and thus had not always lived as Man-
ichaeans, would they be able to turn away from members of their former
families if they were in need of food? While almost every instance of their
almsgiving appears to refer to gifts to the Elect or for the sacred meal, we are
still left with the case of the orphans who receive food alms. Is it conceiv-
able that these orphans were non-Manichaean kin or friends or townsfolk
in trouble who could not be ignored and to whom alms were given? What
texts say, and what happens in the everyday, may not quite be the same in
all cases. Perhaps Augustine was not completely right in every case.
Bibliography
Therese Fuhrer
has recently been explicated in great detail in the philological and theological commentary
of Trelenberg (2009).
52 therese fuhrer
van Oort and Annemaré Kotzé on the Confessions, who repeatedly stress
that that text must be understood in light of the fact that its author was for
many years a member of the Manichaean religious community and so knew
its thought and writings, and hence its codes, and that he had a readership
in mind that was able to decode them.4 Most recently, Jason BeDuhn has
convincingly shown that, for Augustine’s early writings, too, the cultural
context in which the works make sense, and thus their interpretive horizon,
should not be understood as solely Platonic and Nicene Christian, but as
also still strongly shaped by Manichaeism.5
That Augustine’s ‘Manichaean knowledge’ should not be overlooked in
the interpretation of his own work applies all the more firmly to the early
dialogues; for while the Confessions date from more than ten years after
what he calls his definitive apostasy from the Manichaean ‘sect’, the early
dialogues were composed only two years later, in the Autumn of 386. In 384
Augustine had been in Rome, where, according to the account in the Confes-
sions, he had lived in a strongly Manichaean environment,6 and in that year
he came as rhetor to the imperial court in Milan.7 In the Confessions Augus-
tine makes this city the setting of his engagement with Platonic philosophy
and abandonment of Manichaean doctrine, a process completed when—
after a full two years—he joined the Nicene Catholic church. According to
the narrative in the Confessions, this step was prompted by, among other
things, his critical evaluation of Manichaean theology and cosmology.8
The much discussed question of which theological and philosophical
concepts led the empirical author—the historical Augustine—to his
4 Cf. e.g. van Oort (1994) 130; van Oort (2010) 509–514; Kotzé (2004), esp. 101 ff. More
sceptical: Coyle (2001/2009); Coyle (2003/2009); BeDuhn (2010) 70–74, but cf. ibid. 135: ‘In the
very period that he would later characterize as one of discontent and disaffection, Augustine
had become a veritable Manichaean insider’. Cf.—contra Coyle—van Oort (2008).
5 BeDuhn (2010), esp. 165ff.
6 Conf. 5.18–22. Cf. on this Lieu (1992) 173; BeDuhn (2010) 144ff.; 246 f.; Fuhrer (2013b).
7 According to conf. 6.23 his Manichaean friends had got him into the selection process
‘conversion’,9 must remain open, but the fact that Manichaean teachings
played a role alongside Neoplatonic and Nicene Christian doctrine can
hardly be contested.10 It is true that the ‘Milan’ works contain only a few
explicit references to the Manichaean phase of the author’s biography, and
implicit jabs against the Manichaeans and their doctrine can only rarely be
identified clearly.11 However, like Johannes van Oort, I assume that Augus-
tine did not first acquire his detailed knowledge of this doctrine when he
composed the first anti-Manichaean works in 388—two years later—but,
rather, as an auditor for many years before and during the Milan period, he
had become familiar with its essential texts and so also with the elements
of its myth, its terminology and its language of imagery.12
From the four works of Augustine that were composed in the Autumn of
386 or the Spring of 387 in Milan, I have selected De ordine for my study for
two reasons. Firstly, in this dialogue Augustine dramatises a discussion of
theodicy in which the Manichaean solution is clearly rejected, even though
the debate ends in aporia. Secondly, the dialogue’s dramatic setting at the
villa in Cassiciacum, where Augustine has chosen to set the discussion, and
the figures who act and speak in it, illustrate the topic of De ordine in a
way that—I argue—is strongly reminiscent of Manichaean imagery and the
stock motifs of the Manichaean mythological system. This second aspect
may seem surprising, and to my knowledge no-one has read and interpreted
the dialogue from these premises.
In what follows, therefore, after a short survey of the arguments made in
the discussion in De ordine against a Manichaean solution to the theodicy
question (section 2), I will try to make plausible my ‘new’ interpretation of
the dialogue’s dramatic setting (sections 3 to 7).
9 BeDuhn (2010) 170 talks of ‘switching’; cf. n. 18 p. 339: ‘“Switching” is the term typically
used in the study of religion for moving from one religious community to another without
any deep conviction, but for various extrinsic reasons, such as marriage or career advance-
ment’.
10 On this, van Oort (1994) 128f., against Joseph Ratzinger.
11 References to his biography at Acad. 1.3; 2.8; beata v. 4. Anti-Manichaean points at ord.
2.46 and solil. 1.2. On this, see Bammel (1993) 16; cf. Trelenberg (2009) 348.
12 Cf. van Oort (2008), esp. 465f.; van Oort (2010), esp. 513; van Oort (2012) 192 and 197–199.
Like BeDuhn (2010) 165–217, in what follows I take the narrative of the ‘Milan Books’ of the
Confessions as a licence to read the works that the empirical author Augustine composed
in Autumn 386 as also part of a critical engagement with Manichaean doctrine; I thus
understand Augustine’s Milan narrative as a guide to reading the texts that arose in this
context. Cf. esp. conf. 9.8f.; on which, van Oort (1997) 246.
54 therese fuhrer
Augustine presents himself in the role of the teacher with his students
and his mother, who pass three days discussing the question of how ‘evil’
entered or was added to the world order (the ordo mundi).13 The young
student Licentius argues vehemently that everything that happens is part
of a meaningful and thus ‘good’ world order, which is directed by God (ord.
1.11),14 and that there is nothing that is opposed to this order, because the
order encompasses everything (1.15: nihil autem esse praeter ordinem video).
When his fellow student Trygetius asks how he can then explain that a
mistake (error) could be possible in this system, Licentius responds with
the traditional argument, that everything, and thus also the departures (the
‘wandering away’, errare) from the true, beautiful and good, has a cause, and
so is not opposed to the order (1.15: error … non potest ordini esse contrarius).
After this, however, Licentius notices that he has thus admitted the no-
tion that the malum is also part of the ordo. He therefore has to say (1.16): et
bona et mala in ordine sunt.15 He thus, as Trygetius objects, derives the mala
from God, which must be reckoned impious (1.17: impium).16 He defends
himself with the conventional argument that a harmonic whole can only
be formed from opposites (1.18: congruentia) and that God’s justice only
becomes manifest through the distinction (distinctio) of good and evil.17
Therefore it is necessary that mala exist (fit, ut mala etiam esse necesse sit).
In Book 2, Augustine has his students again argue for the thesis that
the mala are part of the divine order (2.2). However, Licentius remains
unsuccessful in this, as he may not derive the existence of evils from (the
omnipotent) God. The position that the malum has come into being outside
the divine order and was added to it later (2.23) cannot be accepted either;
for this would allow the conclusion that evil has come into being without
any help from God.18 Licentius’ insistence on the line that nothing happens
13 On chronology internal to the text of the three Cassiciacum dialogues, cf. Trelenberg
(2009) 81 f. On Augustine’s engagement with the question unde malum, cf. comprehensively
Schäfer (2002) 217–242; Evans (1982) 93–98; on De ordine cf. Fuhrer (2002).
14 Cf. also ord. 1.14.
15 This statement represents neither the opinion of the figure ‘Augustine’ in the dialogue
nor that of the empirical author, as BeDuhn (2010) 265 erroneously assumes.
16 Quid enim potuit dici magis impium quam etiam mala ordine contineri? Cf. already 1.1.
17 This is elaborated further in the next part (1.19). On the topic of ‘universal justice’ see
independent existence and is co-eternal with God, the Manichaeans provided a ready answer
to the problem of theodicy’.
re-coding manichaean imagery 55
outside the order repeatedly leads to aporia and finally to the abandonment
of the discussion, because no-one wants to admit either that evil has come
into being within the order, or that it became part of the order later (2.23).19
The question of how the evils in the world are to be explained is thus not
answered in De ordine. In the course of the discussion, however, it would
become clear, at least to a Platonically minded readership, that the reason
why the problem, and thus the aporia, remains is that Licentius grants
to the mala a real existence.20 It is only in his later works that Augustine
formulates a response to the question, basing it on the Neoplatonic thesis
that evil should be thought of as privatio boni:21 all manifestations of the
bad in the empirical world thus participate—if only by existing to a lesser
degree—in the all-encompassing divine order of being. Nonetheless, this
solution is hinted in the argumentation of De ordine (2.9f.),22 which thus
points towards a solution that the author of the Confessions in fact ascribes
to his first-person narrator in the years before the retreat to Cassiciacum.23
The author Augustine shows all explanations based on ontologies which
grant evil an existence24 as failing on account of his students’ pious atti-
tude (pietas), and in one passage also that of his pious mother; their reflec-
tions are based on the image of God as benign creator. Certain possible
approaches, including the Manichaean dualist cosmology, are thereby ex-
cluded by Augustine from his doctrinal system, which is now oriented to-
wards Catholic Christianity.25
(1982) 93–98. Augustine goes further than Plotinus insofar as he also grants being to unformed
matter, as it is part of divine creation. This is underlined by BeDuhn (2010) 170–186, who
stresses the closeness of the Neoplatonic evaluation of matter as ‘evil’ to the Manichaean
dualist position, and shows that Ambrose, too, removes this opposition by defining matter as
created by God and hence ‘good’.
22 See below, p. 67f.
23 Conf. 3.12; 7.18f.
24 On this, cf. n. 21 above.
25 However, only 2.46 is clearly anti-Manichaean; on this, see Trelenberg (2009) 348.
56 therese fuhrer
villa dialogues, in which the rural setting is meant to highlight the spatial
and also mental distance from the active life of the city. The localisation of
some conversations in a meadow or in the shadow of a tree recalls the dra-
matic setting in Cicero’s De oratore and De legibus or Plato’s Phaedrus.26 As
well as these literary reminiscences, the Cassiciacum dialogues also contain
a number of scenic elements that are both explicitly and implicitly assigned
a certain meaning in the course of the discussions. In Contra Academicos it is
mentioned repeatedly that the participants in the dialogue have attended to
the work of the country estate, that they have been reading Vergil, and that
Licentius would have preferred to compose literary works than engage in
philosophy; this gives rise to the question of the significance of the ‘things
necessary for life’ (vitae necessaria) as a precondition for the (successful)
pursuit of truth.27 In De beata vita, the frugal birthday meal held in Augus-
tine’s honour serves to point up the notions of (spiritual) lack (egestas),
of moderation (moderatio, modus), and of the ‘fullness’ (plenitudo) that is
equated with the ‘happy life’.
In De ordine the prooemium introducing the topic of theodicy is followed
by a presentation of the rural surroundings in which the philosophical dis-
cussions took place (1.5). The first-person author presents himself as suffer-
ing from stomach pains and as a ‘refugee’ to the refugium of philosophy.28
His conversational partners are named as: Alypius (who was a Manichaean
together with Augustine and who has now committed to the Nicene doc-
trine), Augustine’s brother Navigius (in a non-speaking role), Licentius (his
student, the son of the Manichaean Romanianus), and a student recently
released from military service, Trygetius.
The location of the first discussion is the villa’s sleeping quarters; it is
night and the room is deep in darkness. The narrative first person ‘Augusti-
nus’ lies awake, however (1.6: cum evigilassem … pervigil … vigilabam), mul-
ling over his thoughts, something that he—‘from love of truth’ (amore inve-
niendi veri)—evidently does ‘from habit’ … ‘almost half the night’ (de more
meo … dimidiam … fere noctis partem) and asking why the water in the pipes
beneath the bedroom is making an irregular pattern of sound (sonus). When
Licentius is scaring off mice with a wooden stick (probably by banging it
on the floor), he realises that his pupil is also awake (seque vigilantem hoc
hand, a commemorative function, and on the other—of importance for the sick ‘Augusti-
nus’—a disciplining function. Cf. 1.5; 1.27.
re-coding manichaean imagery 57
illud propheticum laete atque garrule: Deus virtutum, converte nos et ostende faciem tuam,
et salvi erimus. Quod pridie post cenam cum ad requisita naturae foras exisset, paulo clarius
cecinit, quam ut mater nostra ferre posset, quod illo loco talia continuo repetita canerentur …
(23) Ergo mane cum regressus esset solus … accessit ad lectulum meum: Verum mihi dic, inquit,
ita fiat nobis quod vis, quid de me existimes …—Mihi, inquam, neque hoc displicet et ad illum
ordinem puto pertinere, ut etiam hinc aliquid diceremus. Nam illi cantico et locum ipsum, quo
illa offensa est, et noctem congruere video. A quibus enim rebus putas nos orare ut convertamur
ad deum eiusque faciem videamus, nisi a quodam ceno corporis atque sordibus et item tenebris,
quibus nos error involvit? Aut quid est aliud converti nisi ab immoderatione vitiorum virtute
ac temperantia in sese attolli? Quidve aliud est dei facies quam ipsa, cui suspiramus et cui nos
amatae mundos pulchrosque reddimus, veritas? On this, see Trelenberg (2009) 136–139: ‘eine
der Schlüsselstellen für die Legitimität eines allegorischen Verständnisses von De ordine’
(p. 137); cf. Fuhrer (2011) 28–32.
58 therese fuhrer
the scenic elements—even the latrine—as charged with meaning and so,
to some extent, suggest that the surroundings be read and interpreted as a
text.35
Among the named elements of this ‘setting text’, it is Augustine’s ill
health,36 night, the sleeping quarters, being awake, sounds, and then the
dawning day (1.20 and 1.22) that most clearly have the character of signs, not
least because interpretations of this kind are proposed in the dialogue itself.
In his allegoresis of the latrine scene, Augustine compares the locus with
the past night (1.23: nam illi cantico et locum ipsum … et noctem congruere
video); the darkness of the sleeping quarters and of the latrine stands for the
error from which humans want to free themselves. Those who love truth are
awake and alert; their education in learned disciplines is preparing them to
‘embrace’ truth (1.24: exhibet amatores amplectendae veritati). The state of
ignorance is compared to incapacity through illnesses (morbi) and rashes
(scabies), from which sapientia, like a doctor, can heal those who are pre-
pared to undergo a strenuous cure (patientia, perpeti 1.24). Health is equated
to light (valetudini sanorum lucique reddantur). Anyone who chooses to
remain without knowledge of God lives like settling for alms (tamquam stipe
contenti). However, the ‘best and most beautiful bridegroom’ (coniunx ille
optimus ac pulcherrimus) wants those souls that strive for the happy life and
so are ‘worthy of the bridal chamber’ (thalamo suo dignas).37
The sleeping quarters in Cassiciacum thus become a symbol of the state
of ignorance, which those who are awake and ask questions about the
divinus ordo, i.e., souls that love truth38 and strive for knowledge of God,
can transcend: towards the light or into the bridal chamber to the divine
bridegroom.
The interpretation of the ‘setting text’ continues the next day. Due to the
miserable weather (caelo tristi), they decide to continue the discussion in
the baths39 and, on the way there, they observe two cocks fighting (1.25).
preted allegorically: the fulfilment of their love should be understood as the union of spirits
equipped with the ‘dowry’ of knowledge and the beauty of virtue (1.24).
38 Cf. 1.6.
39 Cf. Lieu (1992) 174, who refers to the Manichaean prohibition of bathing, with reference
Augustine directly describes the group’s gazing at this fight scene as the
search of the ‘eyes of lovers’ (oculi amantum) for the ‘signs’ (signa) through
which the ‘beauty of reason’ (pulchritudo rationis) draws beholders to itself
and demands that they strive towards it.40 It is stressed that both creatures,
including the dishevelled, defeated cock, appear beautiful as an ensemble,
and that thus the ‘deformed’ (deforme), too, contributes to the harmony
and beauty of the view (concinnum et pulchrum). This ‘spectacle’ in which
they take pleasure (1.26: voluptas spectaculi) is thereafter interpreted as an
‘invitation’ to the senses (ipsorum sensuum invitatio) to move on to deeper
reflections and to perceive the rule-governed character of the visible natural
world, which is the ‘imitation of that truest beauty’ (imitatio verissimae illius
pulchritudinis).
Thus over the timespan of a night and the following day, a scenario is
presented that ‘invites’ the following interpretation (cf. 1.26): those who are
awake at night—including the sick teacher—attempt to liberate themselves
from the state of ignorance through their love of truth, and with their
sharpened sense for the ordered nature of the world they are able even at
night, and all the more by day, to interpret the phenomena of their material
surroundings as references to a higher beauty and truth.
The semantic fields ‘night/darkness’, ‘dirt’, ‘illness’, ‘struggle/defeat’, ‘ugli-
ness’ thus not only provide images to describe and characterise ignorance,
but also illustrate the significance of the not-beautiful and the negative in
the divine order. They are seen strictly in their complementarity to a concept
that is positively connoted: those in darkness, too, can strive for knowledge;
those who are in the ‘filth of the corporeal world’, too, can, by singing a psalm,
ask God to show them his face and can be saved; those who are sick, too, can
love truth; those who are defeated and deformed in a fight can be beautiful
too.
The dialogue setting thus presents an ontological scale that leads from
the levels of reduced being up to the highest being, linking night or darkness
to light or day, dirt to purity, sickness to health, defeat to victory, the ugly to
the beautiful. With these manifestations of an all-encompassing order, the
dialogue setting becomes a semiotic system in which even the ontologically
deficient forms of phenomenon always also refer to something at the highest
level, namely the omnipotent divine creator.
The strikingly detailed scenic design of De ordine has often been interpreted
in scholarship on the dialogue as a means of making visible the arguments
presented in the discussion.41 Until now, however, the scenic elements have
not been read in light of the reference system formed by Manichaean motifs
and images. If this is attempted, it yields results that, to my mind, are indeed
illuminating for the understanding of the text.
As a basis for the ‘new’ interpretation of the scenic setting of the dia-
logue in De ordine, I make use of the repertoire of the Manichaean imagery
and iconic or figurative language (‘Bildersprache des Manichäismus’) which
Victoria Arnold-Döben worked out in her 1978 Bonn doctoral dissertation.
Her work includes a collection of the images and motifs through which the
anthropological and cosmological doctrine of salvation and the processes
of redemption from the negative situation in which people presently find
themselves are presented and explained in the known Manichaean sources.
Arnold-Döben refers in her introduction to Hans Jonas, who claimed
that imagery is the ‘logos of gnosis’, and to Alexander Böhlig’s concept of
a ‘language of symbols’ with which the working of the ‘gnostic system’ is
explained.42 Thus, alongside the concepts of the ‘image’ and the ‘motif’, a
concept of the ‘symbol’ is introduced,43 though it is used without reflection
on its scope.44
In the present discussion, ‘motif’45 will be used for elements of the Mani-
chaean myth—the so-called ‘mythological system’. The most important ele-
ment of this narrative is the struggle of the realm of light with the realm
of darkness. Other elements include figures (father; mother; son; primal
man; demon; the powers of darkness), certain actions (wake-up call; flee-
ing), props (armour; weapon; net), places (the Home of Light; foreign land),
nature (sun; moon; the tree of life or of death with their roots, branches and
leaves; the natural elements air, wind, light, water, fire).
41 Cf. Dyroff (1930); Casati (1967); Voss (1970) 216 f.; Bennett (1988) 54; Schäfer (2001);
Trelenberg (2009) 136–139; Fuhrer (1997a) 12–14; Fuhrer (2011) 28–32; Witek (2002).
42 Arnold-Döben (1978) 5f.
43 The distinction between image and motif gets blurred, as Oerter (1981) cautions in his
review of Arnold-Döben.
44 It is also not asked what function was to be fulfilled by the visualisation of the myth
in book illustrations and wall-paintings in Manichaean religion and liturgy: the visual repre-
sentations are to realise anew ‘im Kult den Kampf des Lichtes gegen die Finsternis und die
Läuterung des Lichtes aus der Finsternis’. On this, see Hutter (2010) 14f., quotation on p. 15;
Lieu (1992) 175f.
45 On this, see Hutter (2010) 16–19.
re-coding manichaean imagery 61
With Johannes van Oort, I assume that already the ‘Milan’ Augustine
was familiar with the Manichaean language of imagery and motifs.48 This
leads to the position that he also knew the communicative function and
epistemological significance that was accorded in the Manichaean religion
to the image, or to the motif represented in the image, or to the practice of
illustrating things through narratives of myths.
So let us now try to interpret the scenic design of the Augustinian dialogue
‘On order’ with the eyes of a reader schooled in Manichaeism, that is, in an
interpretive horizon that we can plausibly suppose to correspond to that of
the ‘Milan Augustinus’ in the year 386. Night and darkness, day and light,
being awake, sickness and pain, healing by a ‘doctor’, the dirt of the body,
purifying, alms, bridal chamber and bridegroom, psalm-singing, struggle,
victory and defeat: this all corresponds to the repertoire of motifs and images
of the Manichaean mythological system.
However, there is an essential difference between the interpretive possi-
bilities of the Manichaean language of images or motifs described here and
the Augustinian hermeneutics of the ‘setting-’ or ‘object-text’ of De ordine.
The difference between these systems of images and motifs can be shown
up most clearly through the example of the oppositions of light-darkness
and sickness-health.49 According to the Manichaean cosmology, light and
the stars are manifestations of the—really existing—realm of light and of
God who is at work in it; darkness is the principle that brought forth the
world in the struggle with the realm of light. The result is particles of light
caught in matter, the wounds that the hyle inflicts on the soul, and the pains
caused by the separation from the realm of light. Hunger, thirst, wind, frost,
madness, sleep, drunkenness, captivity, and death are evidence of the state
of being unredeemed.50 At the same time, however, they are also ‘images’ and
expressions of the cosmological and anthropological situation pertaining to
48 Cf. e.g. van Oort (2010) 510–513; a sceptical view is taken by Drecoll/Kudella (2011) 17f.
with n. 22. Another controversial question is what significance illustrated codices or other
visual representations played in North African Manichaeism. It would be of interest for the
questions pursued here to know to what extent Augustine knew this tradition, but it cannot
be determined and is not of direct relevance.
49 On Augustine’s use of the verbal field ‘light’ in the Confessions and its Manichaean
connotations, cf. Kotzé (2004) 105f. citing Chidester (1986). Cf. also Vannier (2004–2010)
1066 f.
50 Arnold-Döben (1978) 128ff., esp. 131.
re-coding manichaean imagery 63
51 Arnold-Döben (1978) 104f. Cf. on this also Burkert (1996) 194f. On the function of
Psalm singing in ritual performance cf. BeDuhn (2010) 56–60.—The process of healing and
redemption occurs, so to speak, by working on matter.
52 The accounts of creation in Genesis can also be understood as mythological narratives.
53 Cf. Dionysius Areopagita’s reflections on the methods of ‘das Verstehen der konkreten
Dinge’; on this, cf. Semsch (2009) 304 (‘anagogische Übersetzung der sinnlichen Wahrneh-
mung’).
54 On this, see below, p. 66.
55 The idea of allegorising the objects in the world (as opposed to texts) is known to
Augustine perhaps from the Manichaeans themselves (cf. van Oort [1991/22013] 49 with
n. 187), or perhaps from the circles of Platonising Christians in which he moved in Milan; this
method is first formulated fully in the theurgy of the Neoplatonists; on this, see Miller (2009)
31–35.—It could also be asked to what extent Augustine’s thought is also already shaped by
the notion that the creation according to Genesis 1 f. is the result of the divine ‘speech’ and
thereafter God, as Augustine later repeatedly stresses with reference to Rom 1:20, is visible in
the entire creation: created nature refers to God, it ‘speaks’ through him (cf. e.g. conf. 10.8), or
God communicates the truth through the creation.
64 therese fuhrer
be expected in the years 386/7 in Milan.56 Understood in this way, the text
operates with the codes familiar to a Manichaean and thus inscribes itself
into Manichaean discourse.
Augustine’s ‘play’ with Manichaean imagery and its repertoire of motifs
must at the same time be interpreted as non- or even anti-Manichaean, how-
ever, because he strictly interprets the same motifs and images as references
to another reality that is purely intelligible. He creates a new semantics and
a different function for these things, and transfers them from a mytholog-
ical into an ontological system. In the Confessions he frequently terms the
Manichaean myths as ‘false visions’ (phantasmata).57 This term is apt when
the motifs and images of the Manichaean mythological system are accorded
a real existence in the world experienced by the senses.58
This new semantics of the ‘setting text’ has central importance also for
the question of theodicy discussed in the dialogue: The oppositions on
which these complexes of images and motifs are based are not—as in the
Manichaean understanding—set against each other as agonistic principles,
but instead the ‘negative’ pole is the starting-point of a development towards
a ‘positive’ goal. Night, darkness, dirt, sickness, ugliness are understood as a
state or properties that already also contain the aspect of the positive. The
nocturnal discussion on the question of ‘evil’ in the world, the psalm as a
prayer for a turn towards God, the perception of the aesthetic of the ugly are
each attempts to recognise the divine order in which everything is ordered
by God and leads to God.59
56 Not least from the fact that Licentius’ father Romanianus remained a declared Mani-
chaean.
57 Also as fallaciae, fictiones etc.; cf. conf. 3.10; 4.9; 4.12; 5.16; 9.9; cf. c. ep. fund. 18f. On this,
cf. Fuhrer (in print); van Oort (1997) 241–243 and 246; van Oort (2010) 532 and 536; van Oort
(2012) 191 f. who relates the concept to the Manichaean book illustrations and picture books.
Cf. also Drecoll/Kudella (2011) 152–154.
58 Augustine explicitly concludes this in conf. 7.2: ego itaque incrassatus corde nec mihimet
ipsi vel ipse conspicuus, quidquid non per aliquanta spatia tenderetur vel diffunderetur vel con-
globaretur vel tumeret vel tale aliquid caperet aut capere posset, nihil prorsus esse arbitrabar.
per quales enim formas ire solent oculi mei, per tales imagines ibat cor meum, nec videbam hanc
eandem intentionem qua illas ipsas imagines formabam non esse tale aliquid, quae tamen ipsas
non formaret nisi esset magnum aliquid. On this, BeDuhn (2010) 181, who speaks of ‘dualistic
imagery’. Augustine opposes the materialist interpretation of the function of light in promot-
ing knowledge in his later anti-Manichaean writings; on this, see Vannier (2004–2010) 1067
with n. 13.
59 Even Augustine’s stomach pains have a positive function, in that they impose a neces-
sary moderation on the debate (cf. esp. 1.5; 1.26; 1.33). On this, BeDuhn (2010) 233. It should
be asked what the function could be in a Manichaean interpretation of imagery of the water
under the floor, the mice, the wood with which Licentius scares them away, and other ele-
ments of the setting.
re-coding manichaean imagery 65
60 BeDuhn (2010) e.g. 233: ‘[Augustine’s] consistent attention to such signs suggests an
indication to see the world as ordered in a way that the Nicene Christian stress on divine
omnipotence closely matched, while Manichaeism, with its more agonistic themes, did
not’; 265: ‘The Manichaeans recognized that a dualistic universe would necessarily produce
accidental outcomes. … Augustine clearly chooses to leave behind this sort of fatalistic
indeterminism for a more secure providential order of things. … Since that complexity entails
widely divergent degrees of goodness, its coordination is by definition hierarchical’.
61 On this, BeDuhn (2010) 187.
62 Thus BeDuhn (2010) 257.
63 O si videritis vel tam lippientibus oculis quam ego, in quibus periculis iaceamus, cuius
morbi dementiam risus iste indicet! … Demersos quidem esse animos omnium stultorum indoc-
torumque commune est, sed non uno atque eodem modo demersis opem sapientia et manum
porrigit. … Satis mihi sint vulnera mea, quae ut sanentur, paene cotidianis fletibus deum rogans
indigniorem tamen esse me, qui tam cito saner, quam volo, saepe memet ipse convinco. Nolite,
66 therese fuhrer
obsecro, si quid mihi amoris, si quid necessitudinis debetis, si intellegitis, quantum vos diligam,
quanti faciam, quantum me cura exagitet morum vestrorum, … rependite mihi beneficium, et si
me magistrum libenter vocatis, reddite mihi mercedem: boni estote!
64 Nam ne quid, mater, ignores, hoc Graecum verbum, quo philosophia nominatur, Latine
amor sapientiae dicitur. Unde etiam divinae scripturae, quas vehementer amplecteris, non
omnino philosophos, sed philosophos huius mundi evitandos atque inridendos esse praecipiunt.
Esse autem alium mundum ab istis oculis remotissimum, quem paucorum sanorum intellectus
intuetur, satis ipse Christus significat, qui non dicit: ‘regnum meum non est de mundo’ (with
reference to Joh 18:36), sed: regnum meum non est de hoc mundo. … Nunc vero … egone me non
libenter tibi etiam discipulum dabo? Cf. also Acad. 3.42; solil. 1.3. On this, see Fuhrer (1997b).
65 This is said explicitly in 2.1 and 2.11.
re-coding manichaean imagery 67
66 There can be seen in this ‘praise of weakness’ or ‘of folly’ a jab at the Manichaean claim
living neither ‘with’ nor entirely ‘without God’; the contrary opposition cum ↔ sine is replaced
by the contradictory opposition cum ↔ non cum.
68 Ord. 2.10: Adducor, ut dicam neminem posse videre tenebras. Quam ob rem si menti hoc
est intellegere, quod sensui videre, et licet quisque oculis apertis sanis purisque sit, videre tamen
tenebras non potest, non absurde dicitur intellegi non posse stultitiam; nam nullas alias mentis
tenebras nominamus. Cf. beata v. 29 f.; on which, Torchia (1994). In one group of manuscripts
with the text of De ordine, this idea is picked up one more time and formulated as a theory
of privation (2.23); however, the passage is very likely to be inauthentic, because it thus
anticipates the solution. On this, see Trelenberg (2009) 259.
69 Cf. 2.14 and 2.24. This figure of thought is found in a similar argumentative context
in Plot. enn. 3.2.17f.; at Cic. off. 1.150f. and 1.126 it is used solely to illustrate the necessity of
(grammatical and physical) defects. On this, see Trelenberg (2009) 213 f. and 405f.
70 2.25; 2.50; 2.52. This ethic of rules (which is Pythagorean and later developed into
reach God and ‘be freed’ (2.15 f.).71 However, only the path of ratio, after
passing through seven scholarly disciplines, leads to the comprehensive and
highest insight into the rationality of the world order.72
The goal for both the Manichaean and the Platonic-Nicene-Christian is
thus similar: the acquisition of knowledge or gnosis, which is described as
the appearance of ‘light’ or ‘illumination’ according to the shared language of
images or, according to the Manichaean mythological system, equated with
the purging of elements of the realm of darkness. The motifs and images
are likewise comparable: sickness, strife, sinking into the depths, ‘madness’,
folly versus wisdom, liberation from ignorance, rules for the morally good
life, and perhaps also the mother figure, are all identical or similar. How-
ever there is a cardinal difference in the significance accorded to and the
valuation of the state of deficit that precedes the achievement of knowl-
edge. The object of knowledge is not the binary difference between light
and dark, ugly and beautiful, weak and strong, foolish and wise, good and
evil/bad; the goal is rather the ability to recognise the good in the bad, wis-
dom in folly, the beautiful in the ugly, strength in weakness, and light in
darkness.73
7. Conclusion
The discussion in De ordine on the question of ‘evil’ in the world had ended
in aporia, and when—after Augustine’s oratio perpetua—night falls, the
discussion is broken off (2.54). However, all are happy and full of hope,
and this optimistic perspective is underlined by the observation that the
night-lamp is brought in (cum iam nocturnum lumen fuisset inlatum).
This motif is conventional: evening brings an end also to the discussions
in Cicero’s dialogues and in Augustine’s Contra Academicos.74 However, the
reference to the scene in the sleeping quarters at the start of De ordine and
the allegoresis of it proposed in the discussion itself (1.23) suggest in turn
71 2.16: Duplex enim est via, quam sequimur, cum rerum nos obscuritas movet, aut rationem
aut certe auctoritatem. Philosophia rationem promittit et vix paucissimos liberat, quos tamen
non modo non contemnere illa mysteria sed sola intellegere, ut intellegenda sunt, cogit …
72 2.26. See, most recently, Trelenberg (2009) 274f.
73 Cf. BeDuhn (2010) 259: ‘Augustine is … discerning a fundamental shift in thinking
from the materialist and aesthetic premises of Manichaean phenomenalism to the abstract
formalism of Neoplatonism’.
74 Cic. fin. 4.80; nat. deor. 3.94; Aug. Acad. 3.44. On this, Trelenberg (2009) 373.
re-coding manichaean imagery 69
Bibliography
Miller (2009): Patricia Cox Miller, The Corporeal Imagination. Signifying the Holy in
Late Ancient Christianity (Philadelphia).
Oerter (1981): Wolf B. Oerter, “Zur Bildersprache des Manichäismus (Review-
article)”, Numen 28, 64–71.
van Oort (1991/22013): Johannes van Oort, Jerusalem and Babylon. A Study into Augus-
tine’s City of God and the Sources of His Doctrine of the Two Cities (Leiden etc.).
——— (1994): Johannes van Oort, “Augustin und der Manichäismus”, Zeitschrift für
Religions- und Geistesgeschichte 46, 126–142.
——— (1997): Johannes van Oort, “Manichaeism and Anti-Manichaeism in Augus-
tine’s Confessiones”, in: Luigi Cirillo, Alois Van Tongerloo (eds.), Atti del Terzo
Congresso Internazionale di Studi Manicheismo e Oriente Cristiano Antico (Turn-
hout) 236–247.
——— (1999): Johannes van Oort, “New Light on Christian Gnosis”, Louvain Studies
24, 21–39.
——— (2008): Johannes van Oort, “The Young Augustine’s Knowledge of Manichae-
ism: An Analysis of the Confessiones and Some Other Relevant Texts”, Vigiliae
Christianae 62, 441–466.
——— (2010): Johannes van Oort, “Manichaean Christians in Augustine’s Life and
Works”, Church History and Religious Culture 90, 505–546.
——— (2012): Johannes van Oort, “Augustine and the Books of the Manichaeans”, in:
Mark Vessey (ed.), A Companion to Augustine (Oxford) 188–199.
Schäfer (2001): Christian Schäfer, “Aqua haeret. A View on Augustine’s Technique of
Biographical Self-Observation in De ordine”, Augustiniana 51, 65–75.
——— (2002): Christian Schäfer, Unde malum. Die Frage nach dem Woher des Bösen
bei Plotin, Augustinus und Dionysius (Würzburg).
Semsch (2009): Klaus Semsch, “Symbol, Symbolismus”, Historisches Wörterbuch der
Rhetorik 9, 298–313.
Torchia (1994): Joseph Torchia, “The Significance of Privation Language in Saint
Augustine’s Analysis of the Happy Life”, Augustinus 39, 533–549.
Trelenberg (2009): Jörg Trelenberg, Augustins Schrift De ordine. Einführung, Kom-
mentar, Ergebnisse (Tübingen).
Vannier (2004–2010): Marie-Anne Vannier, “Lumen, lux”, Augustinus-Lexikon 3,
1065–1070.
Voss (1970): Bernd Reiner Voss, Der Dialog in der frühchristlichen Literatur
(München).
Witek (2002): Franz Witek, “Nunc clarius, nunc pressius. Physikalische und theo-
logische Implikationen in Aurelius Augustinus’ Schrift De ordine”, Zeitschrift für
Antikes Christentum 6, 277–298.
MANI, AUGUSTINE AND THE VISION OF GOD
Iain Gardner
This paper was born of a series of happy coincidences. There were, firstly,
those that led to the realisation that the text of the Manichaean daily prayers
was by no means lost to modern scholars, but preserved in multiple copies
from very different times and places of the community’s history. Further,
when this realisation was first published in the recent Festschrift for Johan-
nes van Oort,1 there were other papers in that volume that provided useful
correlations to my line of thought. I think particularly, though not exclu-
sively, of Nils Arne Pedersen’s discussion of the veil that hides the face of
God, the Father of Greatness.2 And then, further, I find an impressive and
fertile new interest in the connections between Augustine and his (once)
Manichaean heritage, evidenced in the recent work of many of the schol-
ars participating in the conference.3 I am indebted to all of the above in this
paper, the theme of which is that saying of the saviour (to use Mani’s pre-
ferred nomenclature): “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God”
(Mt. 5:8).
When we look at the daily prayers we find a formal ritual punctuating the
day and night at set hours, and accompanied by a specific set of actions.
the Meaning and Function of the So-Called Prayer of the Emanations”, in J.A. van den Berg,
A. Kotzé, T. Nicklas, M. Scopello, eds., In Search of Truth. Augustine, Manichaeism and Other
Gnosticism: Studies for Johannes van Oort at Sixty, (Leiden, 2011) 245–262.
2 N.A. Pedersen, “The Veil and Revelation of the Father of Greatness”, ibid. pp. 229–234.
Of course, whilst reading Pedersen’s paper stimulated some of the ideas discussed here by
myself, he is not responsible for these.
3 See the major overview of the topic by J. van Oort, “Manichaean Christians in Augus-
tine’s Life and Work”, Church History and Religious Culture, 90, 2010, 505–546. Amongst many
other important studies, note especially J.D. BeDuhn (the first of a projected three vol-
umes), Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma: 1. Conversion and Apostasy, 373–388 C.E, (Philadel-
phia 2010); and the extended review by J. van Oort, ‘Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma in
Context’, Vigiliae Christianae, 65, 2011, 543–567.
74 iain gardner
4 Al-Nadim’s text is best known to anglophone readers in the translation of B. Dodge, The
Fihrist of al-Nadim, II, (New York/London, 1970) 790–791; but see now J.C. Reeves, Prolegomena
to a History of Islamicate Manichaeism, (Sheffield, 2011) 210–211. For detailed discussion of the
prayers and the sources see Gardner, “Manichaean Ritual Practice”; and the more extended
treatment in my “ ‘With a Pure Heart and a Truthful Tongue’: The Recovery of the Text of the
Manichaean Daily Prayers”, Journal of Late Antiquity, 4, 2011: 79–99. I do not intend to repeat
all this material again here.
5 Augustine, de Haeresibus XLVI.18; in I. Gardner, S.N.C. Lieu, Manichaean Texts from the
6 X uastvanift X, i; quoted from H.-J. Klimkeit, Gnosis on the Silk Road, (San Francisco, 1993)
303. J.P. Asmussen, Manichaean Literature, (New York, 1975) 74 translates: “… in simplicity
(sincerity) and with a pure heart.”
7 P. Kellis VI Gr. 98; in I. Gardner, Kellis Literary Texts. Volume 2, (Oxford 2007).
8 P. Kellis VI Copt. 54, 8–11.
9 Cf. Augustine, c. Faust. XX, 2.
10 See the references in the Dictionary of Manichaean Texts. I. Texts from the Roman
of very specific meaning. The light-soul that ascends, whether our very own
or that refined from this ‘mixed’ world that is the cosmos, fills up the vessel
of the moon; before it is transferred to the sun and thence to the ‘new aeon’
(to which we will return later). This process is visible: Not only can we see
these vessels that ferry the soul, but the divine living soul is itself apparent
in that it is made up of the five light-elements. Thus the moon is specifi-
cally the ‘ship of living water’ and the sun ‘the ship of living fire’. The process
of the waxing and waning of the moon was a very obvious demonstration of
the supposed truth of this teaching, whilst the constant plenitude of the sun
was a mystery that Mani needed to discuss.11
However, the sun and moon did not only carry the ascending light, they
were also dwellings (sometimes thrones or palaces) for the emanated gods
at work in the cosmos, undertaking the processes involved in the redemp-
tion of the light and defeat of the darkness and its powers.12 Various lists
occur in the Manichaean (and anti-Manichaean) texts to locate the differ-
ent gods according to their homes, and this is what Faustus meant when
he talked about the ‘Son’ in the visible sun and the moon. For example, the
polemical Acts of Archelaus not only discusses the process of ferrying the
souls, and the waxing and waning of the moon (26, 6–7); but also places Jesus
‘in the little ship’ and so on (31, 6). Indeed, the association of Jesus (here in
his aspect as the salvific god ‘Jesus Splendour’) and the moon was so strong,
that in a wonderful fragment of Manichaean mission history preserved in
Sogdian we can read:13
Thereupon, on the fourteenth (i.e. of the lunar month when the moon was
full), Gabriab and his assistants stood in supplication and prayer. And near
nightfall when Jesus rose, Gabriab stood before Jesus in prayer and spoke thus
to him …
However, one should note that there was a duality in the conception of the
figure of Jesus, so that he could be associated both with the principal god of
11 For a compendium of Manichaean teachings on these matters start with kephalaion 65:
and the night’, i.e. the sun and the moon, in the recently identified Chinese cosmogonic scroll;
cf. Y. Yoshida, “Cosmogony and Church History depicted in the newly discovered Chinese
Manichaean Paintings”, Yamato Bunka, 121, 2010, 1–34 (plate 1).
13 Cf. W.B. Henning, “The Manichaean Fasts”, The Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 77,
1945, 146–164 (155). Perhaps one should also reference the very interesting quote from the
Bhavishya Purana: ‘… by meditation he should worship Isa, who is standing in the disc of the
sun’. Manichaean influence in this Hindu text is debated; see the discussion and references
in D. Scott, “Manichaeism in Bactria: Political Patterns and East-West Paradigms”, Journal of
Asian History 41, 2007, 107–130 (this quoted at p. 119).
mani, augustine and the vision of god 77
descent (the First Man) and with that of salvation (the Third Ambassador),
both with the female Virgin of Light in the moon and with the male in the
sun. In the Kephalaia it is explained that Jesus descended through the ship
of the day (the primary abode of the Ambassador) and the ship of the night
(the primary abode of the First Man) before he appeared in the world.14 Thus
we can understand why Faustus placed the ‘Son’ in both vessels.
There is a further aspect to consider. The sun and moon were vessels and
palaces, but they were also gates and portals to the transcendent realm. This
is made clear in many places, but of particular importance is the citation
from Mani himself preserved by al-Biruni:15
The other religious bodies blame us because we worship sun and moon, and
represent them as an image. But they do not know their real natures; they do
not know that the sun and moon are our path, the door whence we march
forth into the world of our existence (into heaven), as this has been declared
by Jesus.
The Kephalaia again discusses this point: The sun is the gate of life to the
great aeon of light, and it is for this reason that Satan placed an exclusionary
judgement on it saying that Whoever will worship it can die (Deut. 17:2–5).16
I think that we must understand a further visual aspect here: To look at
the sun (although in truth our bodily eyes can not) is to gaze through an
open space in the material heaven of this world into that other realm. One
is reminded of meditation techniques where one focuses on a disk, if that is
not too fanciful an analogy.
So, we can unpack various dimensions to the promise that the pure of
heart shall see God. In directing one’s gaze at the sun and moon one sees
the visible manifestation of the purified ‘living soul’ in its ascent, one sees
the gods in their palaces, and one can even try to look through into the tran-
scendent world of blazing light. But God the Father remains inaccessible.
14 E.g. kephalaion 8: ‘Concerning the Fourteen Vehicles that Jesus has boarded’.
15 Translation following E.C. Sachau, ed., Alberuni’s India, I, (London, 1910) 169; compare
Reeves, op. cit. [n. 4] 2011: 127.
16 See KephI (= H.-J. Polotsky, A. Böhlig, W.-P. Funk, eds., Kephalaia, [Stuttgart, 1940, 1966,
emphasise again the visual reality of Mani’s vision. Here one enters the
confusing realm of what is often termed ‘mythology’, but that is to miss the
point. There is a story in the appendix to the second volume of Kephalaia,17
where a series of vignettes are presented from Mani’s last journeys as he
visits and speaks to his communities of elect and catechumens, prior to the
final trials and imprisonment and death. The apostle travels when the moon
(‘the enlightener of the night’) is in eclipse, in order to greet his disciples
in a certain city. When he arrives they ask him to explain about this event.
What comes next is unusual. In the texts Mani always announces that he is
the one to explain such and such a matter. But not on this occasion. Rather,
we read that ‘he did not want to have to tell them’. Inevitably, the disciples
beseech and entreat, and will not take this refusal; so at last the apostle must
explain. Unfortunately, the exact details of what he says are largely lost in
a badly destroyed passage; but it will have been some terrible narrative of
treachery and attack by the forces of darkness against the vulnerability and
suffering of the light. But what is really interesting is the word which I have
glossed above as meaning an eclipse. It is a relatively rare Coptic term (ⲉⲃⲏ)
which is generally used with the verb ⲉⲓⲣⲉ and translated something like ‘to
make obscure’. However, the word is certainly linked to the more common
term ϩⲏⲃⲉ meaning ‘grief’ or ‘mourning’;18 and thus I think we can consider
a translation for ⲉⲃⲏ as ‘veil’. This is strongly suggested by this unpublished
Kephalaia passage where it states that the ‘enlightener of the night put on
(φορεῖν) its veil (ⲉⲃⲏ)’.
We can take this digression a little further and reference here the valu-
able description of Manichaean cosmological teachings by the sixth-century
Neoplatonist Simplicius.19 Apparently, eclipses are due to veils (παραπέτα-
σμα) thrown up by the ‘light-bringers’ to shield themselves from the tumult
and disorder caused by the evil rulers who are chained in the heavens. The
striking thing about Simplicius’ discussion—based directly (he says) on the
explanation of one of ‘their wise men’ (σοφός)—is that the Manichaeans did
not regard these teachings as myths or as having any other meaning. This is
an important and pertinent remark, and true to the authentic voice of Mani.
17 This appendix (and the entire second volume) is in the process of being edited by a team
made up of I. Gardner, J. BeDuhn and P. Dilley. I draw here from my first reading of the passage,
which can be found in the facsimile edition published by S. Giversen, The Manichaean Coptic
Papyri in the Chester Beatty Library. I. Kephalaia, Genève 1986: plate 310.
18 See the entries and references in W.E. Crum, A Coptic Dictionary, (Oxford 1939) 52b and
655a–b.
19 Simplicius, in Epicteti encheiridion 27 (treatise 35). See now S.N.C. Lieu, J.S. Sheldon,
“Simplicius on Manichaean Cosmogony”, in In Search of Truth, op. cit. [n. 1] 217–228 (at p. 223).
mani, augustine and the vision of god 79
Of course, this very issue about the cause of eclipses played an important
role in the public history of the religion. In the Confessions (V, 3) Augustine
famously recounts when the renowned Manichaean bishop Faustus came to
Carthage during his twenty-ninth year. He details his growing dissatisfaction
with that community through contrasting their ‘lengthy fables’ with the
ability of those he terms philosophers to predict an eclipse, this by what
we might call the empirical study of the natural world. Augustine explains
how he searched the works of Mani, who in his ‘voluminous folly’ had
written many books on such topics; but he could find nothing in them to
compare with the rational theories established by a study of mathematics
(the practice of calculations). As a result, he put his perplexities to Faustus
(V,6,10ff.) and was disappointed. Augustine then departed for Rome.
The story is well known,20 but we should note how Augustine states that
the Manichaeans ‘thought themselves to be exalted amongst the stars and
shining’.21 With use of Rom. 1:25 he can explain how they have exchanged
truth for a lie, to worship the creature rather than the creator. It is possible
to read in this passage a guarded allusion to the daily prayers,22 although that
is not in itself necessary. We shall return to Augustine later, to the question of
whether God can be seen by bodily eyes; but, first, we must ascend beyond
the heavens, through the portal of the sun and into that other realm called
the ‘new aeon’.
20 Although it has been discussed by many writers, see especially L.C. Ferrari, “Astron-
omy and Augustine’s Break with the Manichees”, Revue des Études Augustiniennes, 19, 1973,
263–276. For a summary on Manichaean astrology see T. Pettipiece, Pentadic Redaction in the
Manichaean Kephalaia, (Leiden 2009) 62–68; and, further, R. Beck, “The Anabibazontes in
the Manichaean Kephalaia”, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik, 69, 1987, 193–196. One
wonders if this dreadful matter of eclipses might be related to the terrible celestial dragon,
on which see also A. Mastrocinque, From Jewish Magic to Gnosticism, (Tübingen 2005) 162.
21 Conf. V, 3 (5): ‘et putant se excelsos esse cum sideribus et lucidos …’.
22 See Augustine’s parallel earlier comment at Conf. III, 6 (10): ‘et illa erant fercula, in
quibus mihi esurienti te inferebatur sol et luna, pulchra opera tua, sed tamen opera tua, non
tu, nec ipsa prima. priora enim spiritalia opera tua quam ista corporea quamvis lucida et
caelestia’.
80 iain gardner
23 The ordering of the various gods was a complicated matter for Manichaean scholasti-
cism, and it is not necessary to undertake a detailed account here. A classic description can
be found in kephalaion 7, although even that needs amplification for a full understanding.
For the work of the Living Spirit start with kephalaion 32.
24 E.g. P. Kellis II Gr. 92, 45 π(άτ)ερ ἀπόκρυφε; and see further references in I. Gardner, Kellis
Also, after these things the aeons [… the Father of] Greatness. He can give
to them what they [beseech of him]. He can give the grace to his fighters,
they whom he [sent] to the contest with the darkness. The veils will be rolled
back and gathered, and he unveils to them his image! The entire light will be
immersed in him! They will go in to the treasury. They will also come forth
from him in glory … king, in the two kingdoms. On the one hand: the King of
the aeons of the light, he is the Father, the Light King … On the other hand:
the king of the new aeon is the First Man …
N.A. Pedersen has recently published a detailed discussion about the draw-
ing back of the veil and revelation of the image of the father.26 He begins
with the telling passage from Augustine’s friend Evodius of Uzala: ‘[God
the Father] has a veil (velum) before himself to soothe his pain, so that
he should not see the corruption of his own part’.27 This is ascribed to the
first book of Mani’s Treasure (of Life). What is especially interesting about
Pedersen’s paper is the way that he explores ‘the possible religio-historical
roots in Judaism of the two themes: (a) the veil that covered the Father and
(b) the revelation of his image’.28 As he points out, the Latin word velum
is used as a loan word (ⲟⲩⲏⲗⲟⲛ) in the Coptic texts, via the Greek οὐῆλον.
He then tracks the idea back into Jewish tradition, focusing especially on
‘Merkabah mysticism’ and its goal to see God in the heavenly throne-room.
However, Pedersen suggests that there is a clear difference between Judaism
and Manichaeism, in that in the former the veil is there to protect outsiders
(who will die if they see God), whilst in the latter—following Evodius’ testi-
mony here—the function is to prevent the Father from seeing the suffering
of those on the other side. One should note that the same sort of motive
could be supposed regarding the veil in Simplicius’ description of eclipses.
Finally, Pedersen turns to his second theme of the revelation of the Father’s
image (Greek / Coptic εἰκών) or face (Coptic ϩⲟ). He draws our attention to
both Christian and Jewish tradition, noting especially Rev. 22:4 (καὶ ὄψονται
τὸ πρόσωπον αὐτοῦ) and Mt. 5:8.
26 N.A. Pedersen, op. cit. [n. 1], 2011. Detailed references to most of the issues discussed
here will be found there. It will be apparent that I do not agree with his view that ‘collec-
tive eschatology corresponds to the individual eschatology’ (p. 230), i.e. that the individual
soul after death will see the image of the Father. Although it is sometimes expressed like this,
especially in hymnic texts, I believe that these are intended as poetic anticipation or fore-
shortening of what will be experienced at the (true) end. To suppose otherwise is to remove
the entire rationale for the new aeon, and the processes of creation and collapse that I have
described above.
27 Evodius, de Fide contra Manichaeos, 13.
28 Pedersen, ibid. p. 231.
82 iain gardner
Thus, we can say that the Manichaean teaching (in brief, and following
Faustus’ pithy summary) is that God dwells in the light: The Son in the
visible, but the Father in what is for now inaccessible. What of Augustine? In
the famous passage from Confessions III he reveals his intimate knowledge
of their teachings, as he attempts not just to attack but to communicate with
them.30 I have previously argued that in the following well-known words
Augustine appears to parody the fundamental theme of the Manichaean
daily prayers (‘… with a pure heart and a truthful tongue’), the phrase he
will himself have recited repeatedly during his years as an auditor:31
… fell among men mad with pride, extremely carnal and talkative, in whose
mouths were the snares of the devil, smeared with a sticky mixture of the
syllables of your name and that of our lord Jesus Christ and of the paraclete
our comforter, the holy spirit. These names never left their lips, but were no
more than empty sound and the rattling of the tongue as their hearts were
29 On the Jewish heritage to the Manichaean narrative about the Primal Man, culminating
in his enthronement in the ‘age to come’, see E. Smagina, “The Manichaean Cosmogonical
Myth as a ‘Re-Written Bible’”, in In Search of Truth, op. cit. [n. 1] 2011, 201–216.
30 See especially the discussion by A. Kotzé, “The ‘Anti-Manichaean’ Passage in Confes-
sions 3 and its ‘Manichaean Audience’”, Vigiliae Christianae 62, 2008, 187–200; and (as exam-
ple) the discussion by G. Mikkelsen, “Augustine and his Sources: The ‘Devil’s Snares and
Birdlime’ in the Mouths of Manichaeans in East and West”, in In Search of Truth, op. cit. [n. 1]
2011, 419–425. For a succinct summary of discussion from antiquity to the present about the
question of Manichaean influences on Augustine, see J. van Oort, “Manichaean Christians
in Augustine’s Life and Work”, op. cit. [n. 3] 2010, section 5 (pp. 541–545). Perhaps the most
telling theme of J. BeDuhn’s recent monograph (Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma, op. cit.
[n. 3] 2010) is to evidence how much Augustine kept with him in his daily practice all his life.
31 Conf. III, 6 (10); see further the discussion in I. Gardner, “ ‘With a Pure Heart and a
devoid of any truth whatsoever (haec nomina non recedebant de ore eorum,
sed tenus sono et strepitu linguae; ceterum cor inane veri). They kept saying:
‘Truth, truth’; and they had a lot to tell me about it, but truth was never in
them.
Scholars have sometimes been misled by the extended ‘culinary metaphor’32
that follows as Augustine seeks to discredit Manichaean beliefs about the
divine nature of the sun and the moon. He is not talking about Manichaean
food rituals, but rather the daily regimen or ‘diet’ of the prayers. The meta-
phor needs to be read in terms of the fundamental theme of the Confessions,
our desperate hunger and thirst for God. If the sun and moon were served up
on ‘dishes’ (fercula),33 to feed repeatedly on such hallucinations is to become
ever more hungry.
We can continue this ‘Manichaean reading’ of Augustine’s great work
with the renowned episode at Ostia in book IX.34 It is here, carefully struc-
tured and placed within the narrative, that he illustrates what can truly be
known and ‘seen’ of God in this life. As is very well-known, Augustine pur-
ports to recount a joint experience of his mother Monnica and himself:35
Step by step we climbed beyond all corporeal objects and the heaven itself,
where sun, moon, and stars shed light on the earth. We ascended even further
by internal reflection and dialogue and wonder at your works, and we entered
into our own minds. We moved up beyond them …
The formal patterning of the ascent is obvious, together with its philosophi-
cal framework: bodily senses ⟩ corporeal objects ⟩ heavens ⟩ mind ⟩ eternity.
32 See the excellent analysis by A. Kotzé, “The ‘Anti-Manichaean’ Passage in Confessions 3”,
op. cit. [n. 30] 2008, 194–195. For reading this as a reference to food rituals, ibid. n. 20; also e.g.
G. Mikkelsen, “Augustine and his Sources”, op. cit. [n. 30] 2011, 420. However, this would make
no proper sense. As an auditor, eating and drinking were occasions for sin and confession.
The ritual meal was necessarily reserved for the elect, as it was sacred redemptive work by
which the divine soul was liberated from its entanglement with matter. But, even then, this
was nothing to do with the sun and the moon; except in so far as the light would afterwards
ascend, fill and pass through these portals to the new aeon.
33 This is how ferculum is usually translated here; but probably Augustine’s sense would
be better rendered as ‘courses’, indicating the repeated servings of such ghost-food. In any
case, Augustine admits, reluctantly, that he did eat of it; which I understand to mean that he
took part in the daily prayers. See also De beata vita, I, 4.
34 Of course, these topics have been written about in great detail by many scholars. My
purpose here is simply to try and integrate them with the discussion made in this paper
about Manichaean teachings and practice, and obviously many relevant matters such as the
influence of Neoplatonism have been left aside. My summary is indebted to J.P. Kenny, The
Mysticism of Saint Augustine. Rereading the Confessions, (New York 2005); which study also
acknowledges its debt to the classic work of P. Henry, La vision d’Ostie, (Paris 1938).
35 Conf. IX, 10 (24), transl. by H. Chadwick, Saint Augustine. Confessions, (Oxford 1991).
84 iain gardner
The sun and moon are listed; but they are categorised with the stars (a strik-
ingly non-Manichaean turn), and all the heavenly bodies are given a firm,
neutral place in God’s creation. The summit experience emphasises how
limited is the soul’s association with God (‘… we touched it in some small
degree by a moment of total concentration of the heart’). This is ‘the first
fruits of the spirit’ (Rom. 8:23); but contemplation is inherently eschatologi-
cal and can not be realised by the embodied soul, only actualised after death.
What can be ‘seen’ of God in life is only an anticipation of what will happen
when ‘we shall see him as he is’ (1 Jn. 3:2).36
Augustine returned to the topic of the ‘vision of God’ in many other
writings. There is, for example, the lengthy discussion of the three different
types of vision in The Literal Meaning of Genesis XII. These are ‘bodily’,
‘spiritual’ and ‘intellectual’. The last is the most excellent, because it is the
sort used in the contemplation of God. It is the vision of intelligible things
with the ‘eyes of the mind’. It is a kind of rapture and a product of grace.
In an obvious way this provides a striking contrast to Mani, and evidences
Augustine’s Platonic turn. For Mani, as we have elaborated earlier, it is
what the physical eyes can see that provides the demonstration and indeed
authentication of the teaching.
Of particular interest is Letter 147, written ca. 413/414ce as a reply to the
noblewoman Paulina who has asked how the invisible God can be seen.37
Augustine’s response is almost a small book in itself, and here he explicitly
discusses Mt. 5:8. Indeed, he starts from this point: We believe God can be
seen because we read so in scripture, i.e. at this verse (see 147, 3). However, he
then proceeds to distinguish bodily sight from the ‘gaze of the mind’ (147, 4).
This is elaborated by a quotation from Ambrose (Commentary on the Gospel
of Luke), to which Augustine returns repeatedly in his discussion as if to
emphasise an authority other than his own in this matter (147, 18 et al.). God
is not seen in a location, but by a clean heart. He is not sought by bodily eyes,
nor held by touch, heard by words or perceived by his walk. Later he himself
quotes 1 Tim. 6:16, that God ‘dwells in inaccessible light where only the clean
of heart can approach’ (147, 44). The matter is perhaps best explained here
(147, 54):
For blessed are the clean of heart because they shall see God, not when he will
appear to them like a body at some distance in space but when he will come
to them and make his dwelling with them. For in that way they will be filled
with the fullness of God, not when they are fully God but when he will come
to them and make his dwelling with them.
This discussion can be supplemented by reference to Letter 92. This had
been written somewhat earlier (408ce) to the widow Italica. God is the light
of purified minds, not of these bodily eyes (92, 2). This is in the time to come,
not in the present. But the impious will not see him, as they are neither
blessed nor pure of heart (92, 4). The letter makes a strong attack on those
who say that we will see God with our bodily eyes, whether in this life or in
the resurrection body.
So, for Augustine it is clear that any vision of God is an intellectual act
and entirely different to bodily sight. God is not to be located anywhere, nor
seen in this life; except as a rare and fleeting anticipation of the future realm,
and in that case it is an act of grace. But what is that future realm? Augustine
calls it the ‘heaven of heaven’ (caelum caeli),38 and it is interesting to see that
it is not so dissimilar to the Manichaean new aeon (also called ‘the kingdom
of the household of his people’).39 This heaven is not within the uncreated
Godhead, nor eternal with the Trinity. It is the first creation (Gen. 1:1, read
with reference to Ps. 148:8).40 Augustine discusses it at Confessions XII:41
… not even that created realm, the ‘heaven of heaven’, is coeternal with you. Its
delight is exclusively in you. In an unfailing purity it satiates its thirst in you
… I do not find any better name for the Lord’s ‘heaven of heaven’ than your
House. There your delight is contemplated without any failure or wandering
away to something else. The pure heart enjoys absolute concord and unity in
the unshakeable peace of holy spirits, the citizens of your city in the heavens
above the visible heavens.
This is the transcendent realm, the house of God or heavenly city.42 The
caelum caeli is a collective realm of spirits and the homeland of the soul.
38 See the discussion by J.P. Kenny, The Mysticism of Saint Augustine, op. cit. [n. 34] 2005,
113–115.
39 KephI 39, 11. The reference is to the ascent of the victorious Primal Man.
40 Thus Conf. XII, 15 (20).
41 Conf. XII, 11 (12); tr. H. Chadwick, Confessions, op. cit. [n. 35] 1991.
42 J. van Oort discusses a possible Manichaean background to Augustine’s teaching about
the ‘two cities’ in his Jerusalem and Babylon. A Study into Augustine’s City of God and the
Sources of his Doctrine of the Two Cities, (Leiden 1991; repr. 2013) 212–229. He gathers together
a number of interesting references to the heavenly ‘city’, but unfortunately does this in the
context of the ‘two kingdoms’ without reference to the new aeon. Elaboration of this detail
would, I believe, be productive for further development of the thesis.
86 iain gardner
Andreas Hoffmann
At first glance, the concept of the “few” and the “many” appears to be a very
special side issue providing some interesting individual observations, but
it does not seem to be of vital importance. In my point of view, this first
impression needs to be revised on closer inspection. The contrast of the two
groups is not only a topos of ancient philosophy in particular, but the com-
parison itself and its judgements play a repeated and not unimportant role
in Augustine’s intellectual biography.1 It is not restricted to the function of
a merely effective literary device. At the latest since the reading of Horten-
sius, the question of truth is at the center of the Augustinian thinking. All
of his further life is influenced by the endeavour for “wisdom”. According
to Cicero, this wisdom comprises in a broad sense “the knowledge of divine
and human matters as well as their causal relations”.2 This endeavour is, as is
also shown in the Hortensius, an intellectual and practical-ethical undertak-
ing at the same time. An insight into truth can only be gained if the search
for knowledge is accompanied by a corresponding life style, thus the intel-
lectual and the ethical aspect are interconnected.
The Hortensius therefore launches the search for truth in Augustine,
which will remain a driving force throughout his entire life. The several
stations of this search for truth from the reading of Hortensius to the return
to the catholica are widely known and the internal relations have been
clarified by many investigations.3 Hence, the following considerations aim
at completing the picture by an aspect that has been little noticed so far. The
motif of the few and the many can be found in the intellectual development
from the young Augustine to the mature theologian. My focus will be on the
significance of the contrast in the progression of the young Augustine from
the Hortensius to Manichaeism and in his anti-Manichaean struggle. The
following major questions have to be considered: What is the significance of
the motif of the few and the many in Augustine’s intellectual development?
Which influence does it have on his shift towards Manichaeism? Which role
does it play in his return to the catholica and in his later campaign against
Manichaeism?
1. Hortensius
Together with the impulse to search for truth,4 the Hortensius leads Augus-
tine to the conviction that this truth can only be found among the “few”.
“The gods have given philosophy only to a few”, and this is the greatest gift
they gave to the humans and the greatest gift they could have ever given.5
Augustine himself ascribes this statement to Cicero in de ciuitate Dei, unfor-
tunately without indicating any sources. Grilli included this passage into
his edition of the Hortensius as frg. 111,6 combining it with a statement by
Cicero which was preserved by Lactantius and claims that philosophy is not
“uulgaris”, because only scholars can achieve it.7 It is however controversial
whether these two fragments can really be attributed to Hortensius or not.
Besides the fact that Augustine could as well have encountered them within
Augustin als Rhetor von 386, in: V.H. Drecoll (ed.), Augustin Handbuch, Tübingen 2007,
144–148; G. Wurst, Augustin als “Manichäer”, ibid. 148–153; V.H. Drecoll, Die “Bekehrung” in
Mailand, ibid. 153–164; V.H. Drecoll / M. Kudella, Augustin und der Manichäismus, Tübingen
2011, 58–80.
4 Cf. Aug., conf. 3,7f.; beata uit. 4. Contemporary overview of the Hortensius: K. Schlap-
bach, Art. Hortensius, in: AL 3 (2004–2010), 425–436; cf. esp. E. Feldmann, Der Einfluss des
Hortensius und des Manichäismus auf das Denken des jungen Augustinus von 373, Mün-
ster (masch.) 1975; L. Straume-Zimmermann, Hortensius. Versuch einer Rekonstruktion, in:
Marcus Tullius Cicero, Hortensius. Lucullus. Academici libri, ed. L. Straume-Zimmermann /
F. Broemser / O. Gigon, München 1990, 327–370.
5 Cf. Aug., ciu. 22,22 (CCL 48 l. 121–124): “(philosophia) quam dii quibusdam paucis, ait
Tullius, ueram dederunt; nec hominibus, inquit, ab his aut datum est donum maius aut potuit
ullum dari.”
6 Cf. Cicero, Hortensius frg. 111 (Grilli).
7 Cf. Cicero, Hort. frg. 88 (Grilli) = Lact., inst. 3,25,1; cf. also Cic., Hort. frg. 89 (Grilli) (Lact.,
inst. 3,25,12).
the few and the many 89
Latomus 58 (1999), 169 points out that the evaluation of philosophy as the greatest gift of the
gods could have taken place in Cicero’s Academici which hint at Plato’s Timaios, cf. Cic., Acad.
1,2,7 as well as Plat., Tim. 47b. Furthermore, Grilli’s fragment 111 does not necessarily have to
be a precondition for the immediately following fragment 112 which is explicitly marked as
being part of the Hortensius; it might rather belong into the context of the controversy with
Porphyrios considered from an anti-Pelagian perspective, cf. Doignon 169–171.
9 Cf. Straume-Zimmermann, Rekonstruktion 328.
10 Cf. Cic., Hort. frg. 115 (Grilli) = 102 (Straume-Zimmermann).
11 Cf. Straume-Zimmermann, Rekonstruktion 331 with reference to frg, 14.78 (according
virtues.14 Anyone who stays on track, i.e. who is determined by reason and
the constant search for truth, does not get involved with the delusions and
vice of “mankind”.15 This manifests the contrast between the few who are
able to lead such a life and the broad, unphilosophical masses.
Cicero illustrates the background in the Tusculan Disputations which
contain some passages closely related to the Hortensius. In his point of view,
mankind is strongly influenced by bad behaviour and wrong attitudes, so
that all good hereditary abilities are being debauched since their childhood.
Family, teachers, poets, and basically “the people” (populus) convey these
false attitudes. The masses (multitudo) all around have agreed on “vice” as a
general rule; the adolescent adopts their false virtues and orientation. Only
philosophy can cure from this “disease”.16 Cicero connects this consequence
with the assertive reference to the Hortensius in which he displayed the
praise of philosophy.17 As he explains later, the philosophical existence is an
issue of only a few intellectually gifted and ethically superior people who
distance themselves from society. Philosophy is thus “satisfied with a few
being judges”, consciously avoids the masses and is accordingly looked at
with suspicion.18
In this basic conviction, Cicero follows the platonic tradition. Only few
can philosophise, the broad masses are unable to do so.19 The endeavour
to vision the world of ideas is a lifelong process. “Die Vollendung des men-
schlichen Lebens lässt sich eben nicht durch einen einsemestrigen Kurs in
platonischer Ideenlehre erzielen, sondern steht am Ende eines jahrzehn-
telangen Bildungsprozesses, in dessen Verlauf die gesamte Persönlichkeit
umgeprägt werden muss.”20 Also Lactantius refers to this principle and adds
the Hortensius. For the ideal of the wise also cf. Tusc. 5,68: Intelligence, virtue, and an eager
search for truth are the preconditions for this ideal. The triple profit of such a mind lies in
recognising things, explaining nature, distinguishing between what is worth striving for and
what should be avoided, i.e. the right conduct of life and, finally, logic.
19 Cf. esp. Plat., resp. 6 491ab; 494a. Cf. Th. Fuhrer, Die Platoniker und die civitas dei
(Buch VIII–X), in: Chr. Horn (ed.), Augustinus. De civitate dei (Klassiker auslegen 11), Berlin
1997, 102–105.
20 J. Brachtendorf, Augustinus und der philosophische Weisheitsbegriff, in: Th. Fuhrer
the few and the many 91
the hint that the Stoics21 and Epicureans promoted it as well. Although
they generally assume that also women and slaves are able to philosophise,
the world of philosophy effectively remains closed to them. The necessary
preconditions of philosophy, namely holistic education in all knowledge
domains and higher skills, can neither be met by women nor slaves as these
core skills are not included in their education. Finally Lactantius concludes
referring to Cicero that philosophy is inaccessible to the masses.22
Thus, there can be no doubt concerning the “elitist” attitude of the Hor-
tensius. This attitude furthermore corresponds with a widely accepted
axiom in philosophy. Restricting true philosophy to a small circle of partic-
ularly proficient individuals in order to promote philosophy is, according to
my opinion, not counterproductive from the start. Also, Cicero mentions a
positive counterbalance at the end of his promotion speech: Anyone living
as philosopher can hope for a more “peaceful” death, or if there is an after-
life, a facilitated “ascent and return to heaven” for their soul.23
2. Manichaeism
neminem nasci sapientem sed fieri, scit paucissimos omni aevo sapientis evadere, quia
condicionem humanae vitae perspectam habet; nemo autem naturae sanus irascitur.”
22 Cf. Lact., inst. 3,25,7–12 (Cic., Hort. frg. 89 [Grilli], cf. above): “… Ob eam causam Cicero
thermore: Id., Der Übertritt Augustins zu den Manichäern, in: A. Van Tongerloo / J. van Oort
(eds.), The Manichaean ΝΟΥΣ. Proceedings of the International Symposium organized in
Louvain from 31 July to 3 August 1991, Louvain 1995, 103–128; id., Sinn-Suche in der Konkur-
renz der Angebote von Philosophien und Religionen. Exemplarische Darstellung ihrer Pro-
blematik beim jungen Augustinus, in: C. Mayer / K.H. Chelius (eds.), Homo spiritalis. Festgabe
für Luc Verheijen, Würzburg 1987, 100–117.
92 andreas hoffmann
Paris 1978, 188–191. But the “paucitas” should not generally be restricted to the few “electi”.
26 Cf. A. Hoffmann, Erst einsehen, dann glauben. Die nordafrikanischen Manichäer zwi-
docuit nos initium, medium et finem; docuit nos de fabrica mundi, quare facta est et unde
facta est, et qui fecerunt; docuit nos quare dies et quare nox; docuit nos de cursu solis et lunae:
quia hoc in Paulo non audiuimus nec in ceterorum apostolorum scripturis, hoc credimus,
quia ipse est paracletus”.
the few and the many 93
dilectissime Pattici, quod mihi significasti dicens nosse te cupere, cuiusmodi sit natiuitas
Adae et Euae, utrum uerbo sint idem prolati, an progeniti ex corpore, respondebitur tibi,
ut congruit. namque de his a plerisque in uariis scripturis reuelationibusque dissimili modo
insertum atque commemoratum est. quapropter ueritas istius rei ut sese habet, ab uniuersis
fere gentibus ignoratur et ab omnibus, qui etiam de hoc diu multumque disputarunt. si
enim illis super Adae et Euae generatione prouenisset manifesto cognoscere, numquam
corruptioni et morti subiacerent.”
33 Cf. Aug., c. ep. Man. 5,6 (CSEL 25 p. 197,8–10).
94 andreas hoffmann
is the reason why the Manichaeans make for a small, exclusive group in
contrast to the rest of the world.
The promise of a holistic rational understanding of the world is one deci-
sive reason for Augustine to join the Manichaeans. “ueritas, ueritas”—with
this slogan they entice the young Augustine.34 The effects of this advertise-
ment are particularly displayed in his treatise to the Manichaean Honoratus.
During the time of their—apparently joint—studies in Carthage, Augustine
managed to attract him for the Manichaeans against his prior resistance.
Soon after his ordination as presbyter, Augustine tries to dissuade Hono-
ratus from the Manichaeans and to lead him to the catholica.35 Looking
back on the time spent together in Carthage, Augustine summarises: The
Manichaeans have been significantly more attractive for both young men
due to their demands and promised rational cognition (“magna quadam
praesumptione ac pollicitatione rationum”; they want to lead “mera et sim-
plici ratione” to God); they rely on the consideration and “development”
of truth (“discussa et enodata veritate”).36 In contrast to this, the catholica
“demands” the superiority of faith over rational cognition.37 Due to the
recourse on common experiences, the details are historically highly reliable.
It is however interesting that in his argumentation which aims at leading its
addressee to the catholica, Augustine generally argues where the search for
truth should reasonably begin without recurring to any contents of teach-
ing. In case of deviating doctrines he suggests to consider those teachers
of wisdom who count the most disciples. By way of contrast Augustine has
the discussion partner object: “But truth can only be found among the few”.
He illustrates that the objection could be caused by the “nature of truth”
(“ui ueritatis”).38 Apparently and probably because of common traditions of
thought, Augustine assumes that his addressee is familiar with the axiom of
the few experts of truth and that it could be used against the catholica. That
Augustinus, De utilitate credendi. Über den Nutzen des Glaubens (FC 9), Freiburg 1992, 21–23;
ders., Augustins Schrift, 171–177.
37 Cf. Aug., util. cred. 2 (FC 9 p. 80,21–23.): “… quod nos superstitione terreri et fidem nobis
Scis ergo iam, quae sit, si scis, apud quos sit. Nonne dixeram paulo ante, ut quasi rudes
quaereremus? Sed si ex ipsa vi veritatis paucos eam tenere coniectas, qui vero sint, nescis:
quid, si …”
the few and the many 95
39 Cf. Sec., ep. 4 (AOW 22 l. 19–22): “Illa nunc addo, quae praesens actitat multitudo, a qua
tantum virtus procul est, quantum populo clausa est. Nec enim virtus est, ad quam turba per-
venit, et turba quam maxime feminarum.” Kudella AOW 22, 236 note 56 assumes one has to
distinguish between populus = people and multitudo/turba = the mainline Catholic Church.
40 Cf. Sec., ep. 1 (AOW 22 l. 14f.); 3 (l. 22f.).
41 Cf. M. Stein, Codex Thevestinus. Text, Übersetzung, Erläuterungen (PapyCol 27, Mani-
chaica Latina 3,1), Paderborn 2004, 259; Kudella, AOW 22, 335.
42 Cf. Faustus in Aug., c. Faust. 1,2 (CSEL 25 p. 251,22–252,7). The Manichaean Augustine
himself drives Catholic Christians “nonnullis quaestiunculis” into a corner, cf. conf. 3,21
(CCL 27 c. 12,10f.).
96 andreas hoffmann
the former to be the easier part and the latter to be more difficult and
more valuable. As a Manichaean he meets both aspects, even if he rejects
Jesus’ human nature arguing that he himself had spoken of his heavenly
father.43 His major focus is however on the ethical aspect. In his way of
living, Faustus meets the central Christian demands as postulated in the
Beatitudes of the Sermon on the Mount, the speech on the last judgement,
the missionary mandate or other biblical words of Jesus.44 He holds against
the Catholics that they would only verbally confess everything, including
Jesus’ human birth, but they would not meet the ethical demands. In doing
so, the Catholics have chosen the easier, childishly simple way. “The masses
therefore rightly turn to you and away from me, not knowing that the
kingdom of God does not depend on words, but on behaviour.”45
Every Manichaean, regardless of their status within the community, can
make use of Faustus’ model argumentation. Within the borders of the rela-
tively small Manichaean communities, the “pauci electi” have to be dis-
tinguished from the auditores, as they have to meet even higher ethical
demands. As opposed to the auditores, they are considered the “few saints”
(pauci sancti).46 The Codex of Tebessa47 addresses the topic of the “two
classes” within the Manichaean communities and their mutual relations
and is apparently mainly directed at the “auditors”.48 Just like the Electi
they are disciples (discipuli) and belong to the same (true) church.49 In this
dichotomous church, they are still “within the world”, i.e. they are in posses-
sion of goods and they are married.50 The Electi are the “perfect” (perfecti)
disciples,51 because they are strangers to the world which they renounce52
43 Cf. Faustus in Aug., c. Faust. 1,3 (CSEL 25 p. 274,12–20). This is the applicable confession
“sine blasphemia”.
44 Cf. Faustus in Aug., c. Faust. 1,1.3.
45 Faustus in Aug., c. Faust. 5,2 (CSEL 25 p. 273,1f.): “Nec inmerito plebs ad te confugit, a
me refugit, nesciens utique, quia regnum dei non sit in uerbo, sed in uirtute”.
46 Cf. Aug., c. Adim. 15 (CSEL 25 p. 156,21–25).
47 Cod. Thev. A 30–51 (ed. Stein). For contents and reasoning cf. Stein, Codex 132–135. The
core thought for the relation between the two groups is their mutual referencing (cf. Stein,
Codex 132, see this passage also for the characterisation of the two groups in the codex): The
auditors have to support the Electi especially with food supply and thereby contribute to the
purification of the light. Conversely, they will be saved by the Elects’ intercessory prayer in
the Last Judgement.
48 Cf. Stein, Codex 125.132.
49 Cf. Cod. Thev. A 34,9–17; A 47,4–9.
50 Cf. Cod. Thev. A 31,12–14; 38,6 f.
51 Cf. Cod. Thev. A 43,2; B 6,13.
52 Cf. Cod. Thev. A 31,8f.; A 50,2–5, also cf. Stein, Codex 281 f., hinting at the parallel in
and therefore earned a heavenly treasure.53 They are poor as far as worldly
possessions are concerned and they are few in numbers (pauci). The text
underlines this with several phrases and refers to three central New Testa-
ment passages:54 Firstly the picture of the small path (Mt 7,14) that leads
to life and is walked upon only by few,55 which also Secundinus makes use
of,56 secondly Jesus’ warning that only few will enter the kingdom of heaven,
although many counted themselves as belonging to the Lord (Mt 7, 21), and
thirdly Mt 20,16 (Vulg.) / 22,14, which deals with the “chosen few” in contrast
to the many who were invited.57 With that, the Electi as the few are explicitly
connected to Jesus himself and the contrast to the many is implied, yet not
particularly mentioned.
It is highly likely that Augustine draws on his biographical background
when depicting “chaste life” in de moribus as one of the Manichaeans’ finest
enticements.58 This enticement did obviously have a strong effect on him
as he joined the Manichaeans. A note in the confessiones claiming that
during his time as a Manichaean auditor, he granted Mani a credit of trust
in unresolved doctrinal questions due to his “alleged sanctity”, which gave
him special authority, also proves this assertion.59 Furthermore, Alypius is
impressed by their (ostensible) chastity.60
One can therefore proceed on the assumption that to the young Augus-
tine the Manichaeans seemed to be the small elite, which makes both higher
intellectual as well as ethical demands than the catholica, which again func-
tions as venue for the “many” who are not able to grasp at higher standards.
They correspond with the essence of the Hortensius also in this aspect. This
might have additionally fostered Augustine’s impression that with them he
found a group conforming to the Ciceronian ideal. Belonging to this elitist
group certainly had its own attractiveness.
is contrasted with the broad and spacious lane which gathers the many, cf. Stein, Codex 310;
also cf. Cod. Thev. B 31,24f.
56 Cf. above note 40.
57 For variants of the text as well as further evidence in Manichaean literature cf. Stein,
Codex 263–265.
58 Cf. Aug., mor. 1,2 (CSEL 90 p. 4,9–13). Taking measures against this was the decisive motif
When he realises that they can neither meet their intellectual nor ethical
standards, Augustine breaks with the Manichaeans. The influence of neo-
platonic literature cannot be dealt with here in detail. Whatever “Platoni-
corum libri” Augustine has read61—Plotin and also Porphyrios readopt the
platonic concept of the few who have these cognitive faculties, and they
even intensify the idea, because the ability to view “the One” is restricted
to even higher conditions. Augustine already realises when reading Plotin’s
enneads, which he has most certainly received, that those who want to
recognize the divine first need to become godlike by turning inwards and
approaching the divine One with a gradual ascent. This however can only
work if the individuals purify themselves by virtuous practice.62 It is obvious,
of course, that only the few are able to master this challenge. In de ciuitate
Dei, Augustine will ascribe a statement to Porphyrios claiming that only few
were allowed to ascent to divine cognition and that absolute wisdom could
not be achieved in this life. Those living according to reason would however
gain whatever they miss after death.63
Thus the elitist trait in Augustine’s thinking is supported by neoplatonic
literature. In his early writings, which are considerably characterised by an
epistemological optimism, Augustine reserves the knowledge of truth for
the few with harsh judgements. Truth only reveals itself to the “very few and
chosen admirers”.64 Just the few’s ability to reason visions truth.65 As opposed
to them, the “stupid” and “simpleminded” make for an “incredibly large
mass”.66 His former biographical influences explain this baseline of Augus-
l. 121–123). Cf. V.H. Drecoll, Neuplatonismus, in: id. (ed.), Augustin Handbuch, Tübingen 2007,
83.
64 Cf. Aug., sol. 1,22 (CSEL 89 p. 34,4f.).
65 Cf. Aug., ord. 1,32; cf. ibid. 2,30.38.
66 Cf. Aug., Acad. 1,2 (CCL 29 l. 36 f.): “stultorum hominum, quorum inmensa turba est”;
2,1 (l. 14): “… ut scientia raro paucisque proueniat”; uera rel. 27 and other passages. Cf.
Th. Fuhrer, Augustin contra Academicos (vel de Academicis). Bücher 2 und 3. Einleitung
und Kommentar (PTS 46), Berlin 1997, 61 f.418; J. Trelenberg, Augustins Schrift “De ordine”.
the few and the many 99
tinian thought. The “sapientes”, “docti”, “sani”, “iusti”, “spiritales”, who recog-
nize God, thoroughly understand the Scriptures and live according to God’s
commandments in distance to the world, are always the “pauci”.67 The motif
is once again influenced by the controversy over the teachings of grace and
the doctrine of predestination. Many are called, but only few follow this call,
which is those few who have been preordained and chosen by God’s grace.68
However, the question must arise, not least because of the Manichae-
an propaganda, how Augustine justifies his affiliation with the “mainline
church” of the catholica. Does he thereby not align himself with the “many”?
How does this fit with his elitist ideal?
His controversy with the Manichaeans plainly reveals that Augustine
has dealt with this tension consciously and that he has tried to resolve
it with the help of several different strategies and arguments.69 His argu-
mentation against Honoratus, “Still-Manichaean” and friend of his youth,
shows that Augustine is aware that this topic is central at least to the edu-
cated and philosophically trained. “But truth can only be found among the
few”70—this prejudice can potentially blight every approximation to the
catholica within the search for truth.
Considering the most important lines in Augustine’s argumentation, one
observes the tendency to stick to the principle of the perfect few and to
complement or soften this principle by the positive assessment of the many.
The background seems to be the argument of the “consensus omnium”.71
Cicero phrases the argument in the context of the immortality of the soul
and argues that the consistent judgement of all can be considered the “voice
of nature” and that one should affiliate with whatever all deem right.72
Einleitung, Kommentar, Ergebnisse (BHTh 144), Tübingen 2009, 171 with note 256; 228 with
note 122.
67 Cf. e.g. uera rel. 51 (CCL 32 c. 28,13); 27 (c. 14,6); util. cred. 35 (FC 9 p. 184,6); ep. 118,32
(CSEL 34,2 p. 696,16 f.) (“per pauciores pie doctos et uere spiritales uiros”); c. ep. Man. 4,5
(CSEL 25 p. 196,5f.); c. Faust. 22,56 (CSEL 25 p. 652,2f.); ord. 1,32 (CCL 29 c. 11,45f.); duab. an.
16 (CSEL 25 p. 72,23).
68 Cf. exp. prop. Rm. 55; ad Simpl. 1,2,10–13; corrept. 13f.23; c. Iul. 5,14 and other passages.
Cf. A. Zumkeller, Augustinus über die Zahl der Guten bzw. Auserwählten, in: Augustinianum
10 (1970), 447–455; Drecoll, Gnadenlehre 165–168.229–232. Cf. also below note 98.
69 The arguments developed here are of fundamental importance to Augustine’s later con-
troversies with other heretics, cf. J. Trelenberg, Das Prinzip “Einheit” beim frühen Augustinus
(BHTh 125), Tübingen 2004, 151.
70 Aug., util. cred. 16 (FC 9 p. 122,1).
71 Cf. K. Oehler, Der Consensus omnium als Kriterium der Wahrheit in der antiken Philo-
sophie und der Patristik. Eine Studie zur Geschichte des Begriffs der Allgemeinen Meinung,
in: AA 10 (1961), 103–129.
72 Cf. Cic., Tusc. 1,35: “Quodsi omnium consensus naturae vox est, omnesque qui ubique
100 andreas hoffmann
Seneca points out the maxim: “We consider truth to be proven if something
particular seems right to everyone.”73
sunt consentiunt esse aliquid, quod ad eos pertineat qui vita descesserint, nobis quoque idem
existimandum est.”
73 Sen., ep. ad Luc. 117,6: “(multum dare solemus praesumptioni omnium hominum), et
tenere coniectas, qui vero sint, nescis: quid, si ita pauci sunt, qui verum sciunt, ut auctori-
tate sua multitudinem teneant, unde se in illa secreta expedire et quasi eliquare paucitas
possit?” in general; 16 (p. 124,4–8): “Si enim verissimus et sincerissimus dei cultus, quamvis
sit apud paucos, apud eos tamen est, quibus multitudo quamquam cupiditatibus involuta
et a puritate intellegentiae remota consentit—quod fieri posse quis dubitet?—, quaero …”;
18 (p. 130,1–5) with pointed reference to the catholica. For the argumentation cf. Hoffmann,
Augustins Schrift 218–225; Trelenberg, Das Prinzip “Einheit”, 146–150.
75 For the overall concept cf. A. Hoffmann, Hermeneutische Fragen, in: V.H. Drecoll (ed.),
Augustin Handbuch, Tübingen 2007, 461–466 with further literature, esp.: K.H. Lütcke, Art.
Auctoritas, in: AL 1 (1986–1994), 498–510; id., “Auctoritas” bei Augustin. Mit einer Einleitung
zur römischen Vorgeschichte des Begriffs (TBAW 44), Stuttgart 1968; E. TeSelle, Art. Credere,
in: AL 2 (1996–2002), 119–131; id., Art. Crede ut intellegas, in: AL 2 (1996–2002), 116–119;
Th. Fuhrer, Zum erkenntnistheoretischen Hintergrund von Augustins Glaubensbegriff, in:
Th. Fuhrer / M. Erler (eds.), Zur Rezeption der hellenistischen Philosophie in der Spätantike.
Akten der 1. Tagung der Karl- und Gertrud-Abel-Stiftung vom 22.–25. September 1997 in Trier
(PhA 9), Stuttgart 1999, 191–211.
76 Cf. e.g. Aug., c. ep. Man. 4,5 (CSEL 25 p. 196,4–7): “… sincerissimam sapientiam, ad cuius
cognitionem pauci spiritales in hac uita perueniunt, ut eam ex minima quidem parte, quia
homines sunt, sed tamen sine dubitatione cognoscant …” For the decreasing epistemologi-
the few and the many 101
cal optimism cf. Hoffmann, Augustins Schrift 22f. with further literature; Fuhrer, Glaubens-
begriff 192; Brachtendorf, Weisheitsbegriff 261 f.268f. This is why Augustine revokes overly
optimistic statements in the retractions, cf. e.g. retr. 1,14,2.
77 Cf. E. TeSelle, Art. Crede ut intellegas, in: AL 2 (1996–2002), 116–119.
78 Cf. Aug., c. ep. Man. 4,5 (CSEL 25 p. 196,7–9).
79 Cf. Aug., ord. 2,26 (CCL 29 c. 9,6 f.); also cf. Trelenberg, de ordine 273–276; Lütcke,
begriff 269–271.
81 Aug., util. cred. 16 (FC 9 p. 122,7–16). The whole passage is characterised by the contrast
102 andreas hoffmann
2. Augustine uses the same approach with Honoratus regarding ethics. The
hint at the great success of the catholica, however, is much more explicit
here. Just like in the other anti-Manichaean passages Augustine emphasises
of the few and the many and culminates in the negative climax: perpauci (superlative!),
pauciores, paucissimi; cf. Hoffmann, Augustins Schrift 221 f.
82 Aug., util. cred. 16 (FC 9 p. 122,20–124,12).
83 Aug., util. cred. 16 (FC 9 p. 124,12–17).
the few and the many 103
3. This lays the basis for a positive assessment of the great number of those
who have joined the catholica. The Catholic Church gains a plethora of
members who reach truth and improve ethically by following its doctrine.
This is particularly hard to reach and hence particularly notable.85 The fact
that the catholica reaches what Plato and his school could not reach and
did not dare to reach is a strong argument against the Platonists.86 The
masses are won over to the truth and, even more remarkable, lead to a
renouncing life style. Augustine illustrates this with a similar listing like
in de utilitate credendi.87 In contrast to the Manichaeans he underlines
that incredibly many, especially also simple catholici achieve the highest
ethical standards. This issue is discussed extensively in de moribus ecclesiae
catholicae.88 Augustine opposes Faustus’ claim to practically meet Jesus’
radical ethical demands as Manichaean Electus89 with a forceful iteration
stressing “how many” Catholics actually meet these demands.90 The Catholic
Church therefore has an extraordinary (God-given) “progress and success”
(profectum fructumque).91 This success gives the church credibility and
authority and suggests that the truth seeker should start searching here.92
The “many”, the large amount of followers, have now become one of the
“reasonable” criteria for the authority of the catholica.93
4. By implication, the negative evaluation of the few, which also and par-
ticularly concerns the Manichaeans, results from the same argument. They
do not have any authority whatsoever to support their doctrines or sacred
writings, precisely because they are “only few”.94 In his answer to Secundi-
nus Augustine even expands this negative assessment.95 Insofar he comple-
ments the argument of the perfect few with the few very bad people. He
takes up Secundinus’ claim who asserts that as a Manichaean, he belongs
to the few walking on Jesus’ narrow path (Mt 7,14). Then, however, he turns
the claim into the warning not to belong to the group of the few very bad
people.96 Only few are without sin (innocentes), but at the same time only
few are felons. Again, Augustine uses comparatives, but this time negative
ones. Among those who do something wrong are fewer murderers than
88 Cf. esp. Aug., mor. 1,65–71.77 with reference to monasticism, virgins, ascetic members
35 (FC 9 p. 186,5–11). The reasoning is introduced by the following thesis: “Haec (sc. auctoritas)
… dupliciter nos movet: partim miraculis, partim sequentium multitudine” (p. 178,19–21;
180,8f.). The former is primarily concerned with the time of Jesus and his disciples while
the latter deals with the following times. Augustine however revokes the judgement that the
miracles were absent in the following times in retr. 1,14,5.
93 However, Augustine qualifies the success of the catholica as he gains more pastoral
experience and biblical knowledge, cf. Zumkeller, Zahl 423–432. Cf. below note 98.
94 Cf. Aug., util. cred. 31 (FC 9 p. 170,3–5). In addition to that they are “turbulenti” and “novi”
while the catholica distinguishes itself “consensione” and “vetustate” (ibid. p. 170,1 f.).
95 Cf. Aug., c. Sec. 26.
96 Cf. Aug., c. Sec. 26 (CSEL 25 p. 945,12–14.21 f.): “… non te decipiat species paucitatis,
quoniam ipse dominus dixit angustam uiam esse paucorum. inter paucos uis esse, sed
pessimos … uide ergo, ne forte apud uos nimius horror inpietatis faciat meritum paucitatis.”
the few and the many 105
thieves, fewer commit incest than adultery, fewer women are like Medea
and Phaedra or men like Orest (Ochos) and Busirides than other criminals.
The “paucitas” is hence a two-edged category. The Manichaeans are indeed
few, but they belong to a “negative elite” advocating lunatic ideas. It is even
more wondrous that people fall for them at all than the mere fact that they
are few. The few saints walking on the narrow path, who the Lord is talking
about, are definitely not the Manichaeans, but those among true Christians
who fulfil the commandments.97 As opposed to the vast number of sinners,
the righteous are the few. Augustine does not delude himself about this and
freely admits it in front of the Manichaeans. The righteous will be revealed
in the Last Judgement.98
This presupposes Augustine’s conviction that the Manichaeans’ stan-
dards are untenable both in the intellectual and in the ethical realm. The
reasonable insight is an unjustified “presumption” (praesumptio) and a
“promise” (pollicitatio) which they do not keep.99 Particularly the radical
ascetic ethics of the Electi is fictitious. Augustine goes so far as to claim that
the Manichaeans had big problems spotting only one Electus among their
“paucitas” who meets the ethical standards of Manichaeism.100 These harsh
and partly also unfair accusations show Augustine’s great personal disap-
pointment about his own deception, which is now mixed with the pastoral
endeavour to preserve others from the same mistake.
4. Conclusion
We can trace a line of the motif of the few and the many throughout
Augustine’s entire intellectual biography from reading the Hortensius up
97 Next to Aug., c. Sec. 26 cf. esp. mor. 2, which highlights, according to Augustine’s own
account (mor. 1,75 [CSEL 90 p. 81,7–10]), the discrepancy between the Manichaeans’ ethical
standards and reality; cf. esp. 2,74f.; furthermore cf. mor. 1,2.75f.; retr. 1,7,1 and other passages.
98 Cf. Aug., c. Sec. 26 (CSEL 25 p. 945,24–946,2); mor. 1,76 (CSEL 90 p. 81,19–82,3) both
referring to the separation of the wheat from the chaff (Mt 3,12) on the barn floor of the
Catholic Church.—Augustine in other (later) contexts underlines that many Christians fail
to resist worldly temptations and do not adhere to the commandments. Therefore, the good
ones who will be rescued in the end will only be few compared to the sinful masses, yet
in absolute figures, they will be many, cf. s. 90,4f.; 111,1.3; ep. 93,30.33; c. Cresc. 4,63 u.ö. (cf.
Zumkeller, Zahl 429 note 32, also above note 68).
99 Cf. Aug., util. cred. 2.21.36. Cf. Feldmann, Einfluss 1,591–593; Decret, L’Afrique 1,244–247;
favour of their own community, cf. Aug., mor. 2,75 (p. 156,20–23).
106 andreas hoffmann
Annemaré Kotzé
1. Introduction
to which the book does not only speak about Manichaeism, but speaks
to Manichaeans. In my view book 4 constitutes a strong intellectual and
emotional appeal to the potential Manichaean reader to see the problematic
nature and the futility of Manichaean ways of thinking. The passage at the
centre of the book is as powerful a protreptic to a Manichaean reader as I
have argued that the Meditation on Psalm 4 in book 9 is (Kotzé 2001). Before
I go on to discuss the structure of book 4 as a background to my arguments
about its intended audience(s) and communicative aim(s) it is necessary to
concisely reiterate what kind of reader I envisage when I speak of a potential
Manichaean reader.
My arguments about the potential Manichaean readership of the Con-
fessions have evolved over the years in an effort to answer to valid criti-
cism contending that no committed Manichaean would stomach the abuse
against Manichaeism in book 3 and (less explicitly but equally potently) in
the rest of the Confessions and then meekly continue to read to the end of
the work. In a recent article (Kotzé 2013, forthcoming) I argued for the use of
the term ‘liminal Manichaean’ as shorthand to refer to the kind of potential
Manichaean reader I envisage as the target of many of the intellectual and
emotional appeals in the Confessions.
The most important category of Manichaean reader that I argued one
should consider is one already interested in Catholic Christianity as an alter-
native for Manichaean Christianity, someone, like one of the friends earlier
converted to Manichaeism by Augustine or like Augustine himself some 15
years earlier. This would be a person who—because of growing intellec-
tual objections or the increasing clamp down on Manichaeans1—seriously
considers conversion to Catholic Christianity, or who has, in fact recently
converted to Catholicism.
The type of Manichaean reader who is already interested in Catholicism,
on the point of converting or very recently converted is what I indicate
with the term ‘liminal Manichaean,’ also in the current article. Here it is my
contention that the strong appeals embodied in book 4 of the Confessions
are eminently well designed to reach out to just such a liminal Manichaean
reader.
The concept of the liminal Manichaean is also inextricably intertwined
with my arguments about and definition of protreptic, which argues that the
purposes of conversion and confirmation of faith and the audience locations
of outsiders and insiders cannot be meaningfully separated (Kotzé 2011).
1 See the incisive interpretation of the historical evidence by BeDuhn 2010: 136–144; 196.
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 109
The liminal Manichaean is exactly the kind of reader that cannot be neatly
categorized as either an outsider or an insider. The important precision is
that in many respects the type of Manichaean readers I envisage are already
positively inclined towards Catholicism, eager to read about Augustine’s
spiritual journey and thus receptive to the exhortation embodied in the
Confessions as a whole and also in book 4.
In the next section of the article I take a look at the structure of book 4
and the elements contained in it, mainly to support an argument that the
paragraphs spatially at the centre of the book (4.14–19) also constitute the
core of its meaning. This forms the basis for arguments about the ways in
which the central passage of book 4 reaches out to a liminal Manichaean
reader.
3.1. Introduction
Here I present an interpretation of the structure and coherence of book 4
of Augustine’s Confessions designed to stand alongside earlier interpreta-
tions that emphasize its philosophical and theological aspects. My aim is
to examine to what extent everything presented in this book is designed
to inform the reader about Augustine’s thinking in the nine the years fol-
lowing his conversion to Manichaeism, which was described near the end
of the preceding book. What the reader is presented with here is a hasty
sketch, covering in about 12 and a half pages (in O’Donnell’s text) the nine
years during which he most urgently endeavoured to come to an intellectual
understanding of Manichaeism that would make his adherence permanent
and that could theoretically in future precipitate his advancement in the
sect.2
2 In BeDuhn’s terminology I would describe the young Augustine drawn in the pages
of book 4 as one trying to “[effect] a total integration of the system in his own person,
[understand] how it all fit together and [function] in the path of life Manichaeism proposed
and promoted” (2010: 106).
110 annemaré kotzé
3 Steidle (1982: 451) reads these words in the same way: “Daß es eine Periode von neun
Jahre zusammenfassend behandeln will, ergibt sich sowohl aus den ersten Worten als auch
aus der damit korrespondierenden Wendung von 3,11,20 und dem ebenfalls korrespondieren-
den Rückverweis von 5.6.10.”
4 Steidle does note that this section acquires the character of a “predigartige[n] Parae-
nese” (1982: 458). Verheijen (1990: 190), however, discusses 4.15 and then continues: “After
this Augustine begins a long ‘confessing’ account of beauty and its relation with joy, and on
his first work: De pulchro et apto,” which occurs in 4.20 onwards, thus making no comment
on the four paragraphs in 4.16–19.
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 111
5 See BeDuhn 2010: 36–37: “There was more to his life than religion. He had a job as a
teacher, a family life, a circle of friends and his own avid intellectual pursuits. The ability of the
Manichaean model of selfhood to impress itself upon him depended upon how large a place
he gave Manichaeism in the overall scheme of his life. At the very least, he began in his nine-
teenth year (372–373) to attend Manichaean meetings, listen to Manichaean instruction, read
Manichaean literature, adopt the rules of conduct of an Auditor, and discuss Manichaean
ideas with his friends, many of whom gravitated with Augustine towards association with the
sect.” See also BeDuhn 2010: 96 “His enthusiasm for Manichaeism—the genuine enthusiasm
of a new convert—was tempered with the distraction of his broader interests. Manichaeism
was only one commitment among many, a single part of his complex identity as a young man
of intellectual inclinations with a set of roles as student, teacher, rhetorical performer, family
man, and friend. … He read widely (among other things, Aristotle, some Pythagorean works,
Cicero, Seneca, Varro, as well as various scientific and philosophical handbooks and digests)
… and frankly states that Manichaeism was far from the sole source of his ideas at the time.”
BeDuhn is, of course, primarily a historian who, perfectly legitimately, endeavours to recon-
struct the life of the historical Augustine rather than to read the Confessions (or any specific
literary work) on its own merits.
112 annemaré kotzé
and his introductory description of the book clearly illustrates the rela-
tively random mixture of incidents thrown together in the narrative of
book 4:6
4.1.1–4.3.6 portray A. at work as teacher, the prey of the variae cupiditates …
to which he had yielded in the course of the narratives of Bks. 2 and 3. …
We must therefore conclude that this book is made up of reminiscences of
Carthage (376/83) framing the Thagaste episode (375/6) in the mid-section
of the book … 4.4.7–4.12.19 recount the death of his friend and present an
extended meditation on its meaning … 4.13.20–4.16.31 depict his intellectual
life at Carthage, describing the circumstances surrounding the writing of
the de pulchro et apto (4.13.20–4.15.27), then recalling an earlier, undated
intellectual feat, his reading of the categoriae of Aristotle (4.16.28–31).7 The
book is thus loosely bracketed by two acts of successful interpretation of
difficult texts: at 4.3.5, when Vindicianus is presented as a student of astrology,
and at 4.16.28, when A. reads Aristotle on the categories. (1992: 203)
My main reason for quoting the opening section of O’Donnell’s commentary
on book 4 here is to illustrate how, while his commentary on individual
words and phrases throughout the rest of the section on book 4 gives some
attention to the Manichaean issues arising in the book, this is not reflected
in his opening overview. In other words, he does not seem to interpret the
commentary on Manichaeism or the address to a potential Manichaean
reader as crucial to understanding book 4.
Although, as I have said, the fact that book 4 is about Augustine’s Man-
ichaean phase is probably taken for granted by those writing interpreta-
tions of the book, it is striking how little explicit comment is made about
this issue. Like O’Donnell, Wolfgang Erb (2004: 192–193) in his structural
overview of book 4 does not once mention the word Manichaean or Man-
ichaeism. Instead he makes a compelling argument for finding the unity
of the book in its examination of the “menschliche Grundsituation” (2004:
192–193 et passim). This insight, as well as his exposition of the structure
of book 4, emphasizing that Augustine here points to Christ as the way to
6 Courcelle (1968: 44) speaks about the “ordre fantaisiste” of the narration here. Verheijen
(1990: 187), discussing the unity of the Confessions as a whole, also concedes that “there is a
good dose of arbitrariness in the choice of successive subject matter in the Confessiones,”
although he then comes, somewhat abruptly, to the conclusion that there is nothing random
to this choice. Steidle argues, like I do (though on different grounds), for a unity in terms of the
logical progression of thought in book 4: “Trotzdem weist aber das 4. Buch einen gegenüber
den anderen Büchern klar abgegrenzten Gedankengang auf” (1982:452).
7 The event is not “undated”; Augustine, in fact, explicitly dates this event to his twentieth
year: et quid mihi proderat quod annos natus ferme viginti … legi eas solus et intellexi? (4,16.28).
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 113
God, is, of course, well compatible with the suggestion I make below: I also
conclude that Augustine is concerned with human salvation and see the sec-
tion on the incarnation of Christ as the climax of book 4. The main area
where my suggestions differ form Erb’s is in the emphasis placed on 1) the
extraordinary nature of the section containing the apostrophe of the nar-
rator’s soul and the apostrophe of other beloved souls, and 2) the extent to
which the central passage is designed to target liminal Manichaean read-
ers.
Another recent example of an interpretation of book 4 that illustrates
the trend to look past the central importance of its Manichaean elements
is Brachtendorf’s interpretation (2005: 85–99). Although he does not make
a structural analysis of book 4, the two headings organizing his discussion
give an indication of what he sees as the main elements of the book: 1)
“Der Tod des Freundes—die falsche Art zu trauern” (2005: 85) and 2) “Der
Gottesbegriff und die Kategorienlehre des Aristoteles” (2005: 96). The intro-
ductory paragraph on the contents of book 4 (1995: 85) displays the same
absence of reference to Manichaeism that I have remarked upon above as
well as the impression that the events narrated in book 4 are randomly cho-
sen:
Biographisch deckt das vierte Buch die Zeit von 19. bis zum 28. Lebensjahr ab,
in der Augustinus bereits selbst Rhetorik lehrt, zunächst in Thagaste, dann in
Karthago.8 Geschildert wird Augustins Teilnahme an einem Dichterwettbe-
werb sowie seine Neigung zur Astrologie (2,3–3,6). Außerdem greift Augusti-
nus die Frage nach dem Wert der höheren Bildung und deren Bedeutung für
das Glück des Menschen auf, indem er über die Abfassung seiner Erstlingss-
chrift … (13,20–15,27) sowie über seine Lektüre der Kategorienschrift des Aris-
toteles (16, 28–30) berichtet. Das wichtigste Ereignis in dieser Zeit ist jedoch
der Tod seines Freundes (4.7–9,14).
Of course the insights provided into the philosophical issues at play in
book 4 by scholars like Erb or Brachtendorf are crucially important. Yet, I am
convinced that no interpretation of this difficult book is sufficient without
explicit indication of the key role played by its Manichaean elements. In
this respect I therefore find Gillian Clark’s opening section (1995: 159) of her
commentary on book 4 and especially Colin Starnes’ interpretation of this
book (1990: 89–112) more satisfactory.
8 I read book 4 as starting with a narration of life in Carthage before moving back to the
time in Thagaste (in 4.7) as O’Donnell (1992: 203) also interprets it, and then back to Carthage
at 4.14; contra O’Donnell (1992: 203) who sees the move back to Carthage only at 4.20 (see my
arguments below).
114 annemaré kotzé
9 “I. Things done ‘privately’” (1990: 90) in 4.2–3 and “II. Things done ‘openly’” (1990: 92)
in 4.4 to the end of the book. The second main section is then subdivided into 4 subsections.
10 “The first sentence is remarkably ornate, while the ring composition from ‘inrideant
et confitear’ to ‘sed inrideant … autem confiteamur’ sets off a passage reminiscent of 1.1.1”
(O’Donnell 1992: 204).
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 115
in Augustine’s life than that recounted in the previous sections (in 4.7 and
4.28);11 considerable variations in narrative speed and tone as well as in
emotional intensity occur.
In terms of the chronological progress of the autobiographical narrative
of the Confessions book 4 should continue onwards from the point reached
in book 3.6.10, Augustine becoming a member of the Manichaean sect in
Carthage. Yet, because of Augustine’s constant moving between what Feld-
mann (1994) calls the narrative and the reflexive levels, it is not always obvi-
ous what Augustine is about at any specific stage of the narrative and the
captions allotted to specific books or sections of the Confessions by trans-
lators or commentators often obscure the structure or inner logic of the
complicated progression of the narrative. This is one of the factors that make
possible the widely varying interpretations of this book.
In a previous article on the audience of the first three books of the Confes-
sions I came to the conclusion that Augustine, besides including terms and
concepts that may have had special meaning for readers with a Manichaean
background, certainly also addresses fellow-Catholics (or insiders) as well
as, at times, a broad cross-section of late ancient readers. I argued that in
the first three books he often seems unable to restrain himself from cre-
ating little cameos of general human experience, which seem to be there
more for their own sake than in service of some overarching communicative
purpose of the work. Part of the Confessions seems designed purely for the
sake of entertainment, displaying Augustine’s dexterity in conjuring up vivid
and beautifully worded pictures of human life. This should not surprize us,
given Augustine’s training as a rhetorician and is definitely also true of the
deservedly well-known and heart-rending descriptions of Augustine’s grief
at the death of his friend in book 4 and the touching sketches of friendship
presented there. Yet, it seems as if the popularity of this sketch has over-
shadowed the importance of the following section, the apostrophe of the
soul and the other souls, which is marked in my opinion by a number of
11 In 4.7 Augustine recounts the time of his teaching as a grammaticus in Thagaste before
becoming a teacher of rhetoric in Carthage. This falls within the nine-year period indicated as
the one covered in the book but constitutes a move back in time after the narration of some
aspects of teaching rhetoric in Carthage in the previous paragraphs. In 4.28 Augustine makes
the size of the jump back in time more explicit. In the previous section he had indicated
that the writing of the De pulchro et apto, on which he was commenting at that stage of the
narrative, took place in his twenty sixth or twenty seventh year; at the opening of 4.28 (just a
few lines later) he explicitly names the period of his reading of Aristotle’s Categories as taking
place when he was about twenty.
116 annemaré kotzé
A 4.1 PROLOGUE
per idem tempus annorum novem programmatic prologue
B 4.2–5 LIFE AS A MANICHAEAN
in illis annis Main constituents of life as a
Manichaean
in illis annis
(recolo etiam)
eo tempore
tunc autem
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 117
I am fully aware that the suggestion above is just another possible arrange-
ment of the building blocks that constitute book 4 and that there will be
arguments against this as there are arguments against other suggestions
about its structure. Yet there are two aspects of my suggestion that should
not be overlooked and that have not received sufficient attention as far as
I am aware: 1) Augustine uses temporal phrases to impose structure on and
provide unity to the somewhat random selection and arrangement of events
recounted in book 4 and it is exactly this use of temporal phrases which
allows him to jump around within the nine year period without becoming
incoherent. 2) In the centre of the book there are located six paragraphs that
do not form part of the narration of past events (4.14–19). Instead of the more
usual fluctuation between past narration and present reflection the section
consists of two full paragraphs of reflection (4.14–15) followed by four para-
graphs where the address to God moves far into the background (4.16–19):
118 annemaré kotzé
in these four paragraphs the narrator first addresses his own soul and then
he lets this soul address other souls.
These paragraphs may be seen as developing from the narrative of the
death of Augustine’s youth friend in Thagaste and as part of the ensuing
“extended meditation on its meaning” (O’Donnell 1992: 203). Yet, the pre-
sentation of the narrative in the present of the narrator from the beginning
of Conf 4.14 up to the end of 4.19,12 including the strong and prolonged emo-
tional appeal presented in 4.16–19, together with the fact that no temporal
phrases occur in this section sets it apart from the more narrative sections
preceding and following it and justifies to my mind seeing this section as
a separate structural unit within the book. However, the most important
aspect that sets this section apart from the narrative in the rest of book 4 is
the fact that in these paragraphs we do not hear anything about the young
Augustine. Although comments on Manichaean error do occur, this is not a
depiction of the deeds or thoughts of the Manichaean Augustine; instead
the perspectives related to the reader are all those of the narrator at the
time of narration. Yet, this does not mean that these six paragraphs at the
centre of book 4 are any less ‘about Manichaeism’ than the narrative in the
preceding and subsequent paragraphs. It is precisely the apostrophe of the
narrator to his soul with the embedded apostrophe of this soul to other souls
that constitutes the strongest appeal to Manichaean readers, as I will argue
below.
12 The series of infinitives at the end of 4.13 develop from two previous verbs in the
flagitia and facinora in 3.8.15 to 3.9.17) by the profession of ignorance repeated at the start of
each chapter (except the chapters that form part of the digression): nesciebam (3.7.12), et non
noveram (3.7.13), haec ego tunc nesciebam (3.7.14), and haec ego nesciens (3.10.18).
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 119
14 These two possible interpretations are reflected in the translations of Boulding and
Thimme respectively, with Boulding reading the opening words as referring to the whole nine
year period: “At this same period, when I first began to teach in the town where I was born, …”
(2002: 61) and Thimme seeing the words as referring only to the time in Thagaste: “In jenen
Jahren, da ich zuerst in meiner Vaterstadt mit meiner Lehrtätigkeit begann” (1958: 92).
120 annemaré kotzé
will be a recollection of the nine year period as the temporal frame for the
narrative in book 4. The phrase is to my mind undoubtedly designed to fulfil
both functions. It also introduces one of the most powerful pieces of narra-
tive in the Confessions: the poignant story of the death of the young friend in
the midst of an enthusiastic friendship especially characterized by a shared
passion for Manichaean pursuits (conparaveram amicum societate studio-
rum [sc. Manichaeorum] nimis carum).
The story of the death of this friend is studded with temporal indica-
tions marking the incident as characteristic of the way in which Augustine
thought and felt during this period of Manichaean thinking: quid tunc fecisti,
deus meus (4.8); luctu quo tunc operiebar (4.10); sic ego eram illo tempore …
sic eram omnino, memini (4.11) and quod ego tunc eram (4.12). Structurally
I see the announcement of the end of this narrative in atque a Thagastensi
oppido veni Carthaginem, the last words of of 4.12. The narrative about the
death of the friend is then brought to a neat conclusion in 4.13, a narration in
the imperfect tense of the replacement of the youth friendship with other
Manichaean friendships (me reparabant atque recreabant aoliorum amico-
rum solacie, cum quibus amabam quod postea amabam; et hoc erat ingens
fabula et longum mendacium … illa mihi fabula non moriebatur, si quis ami-
corum meorum moreretur).
Paragraph 4.13 is concluded by one of Augustine’s little cameos from
everyday life, a depiction of the pleasures of friendship that, with its empha-
sis on reading and arguing, especially the academically minded can asso-
ciate with. But for my reading of the overall impact of book 4 it is cru-
cial to realize that this is not only a general description of friendship but
also a very specific evocation of Manichaean friendship, a poignant sketch
that may even be specifically designed to trigger memories with erstwhile
Manichaean friends who have not yet converted to Catholicism. Although
such a notion must, of course, remain firmly within the realm of specula-
tion, it is plausible enough to help us picture the kind of audience targeted
by Augustine’s prose in book 4.
My main reason for seeing 4.14 as the start of a separate structural unit
(4.14–19) is the fact that it is the start of a prolonged section where no nar-
rative in the imperfect tense is found (see arguments below). The previous
paragraph (4.13), in spite of its ending in the general evocation of friend-
ship through the use of a series of present infinitives, is still a narrative in
the imperfect, starting with ecce veniebant et praeteribant de die in diem and
ending in the introductory phrase from which the infinitives develop: alia
erant, quae in eis amplius capiebant animum, conloqui etc. After this the nar-
rative in the imperfect tense is only picked up again in 4.20, the beginning
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 121
15 Steidle (1982: 452) is of the opinion that the whole first section of book 4 is not meant
to follow chronologically on the narrative of book 3; for him this only starts at 4.7: “Zu Beginn
stehen einige generelle, den ganzen Zeitraum betreffende Aussagen …. Anschließend kommt
Augustin auf ein Einzelereignis zu sprechen … Dabei beginnt die Erzählung mit einer zum
Vorhergehenden parallelen chronologischen Fixierung (4,7 in illis annis).”
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 123
eo tempore or tunc to keep together the various threads he uses to weave the
structure of book 4. The absence of such temporal phrases from the section
I see as the heart of book 4 also supports arguments for regarding this as
somehow set apart from the rest of the book.
4.1. Introduction
Here, against the background of my arguments at various earlier occasions
that the Confessions is to an important extent well designed to reach out to a
Manichaean—or liminal Manichaean—reader, I would like to highlight the
extent to which the episodes recounted in book 4, and especially the passage
at the centre of the book, may be regarded as devised to appeal to the liminal
Manichaean. I argue that this passage is an emotional appeal designed
to convince a reader already interested in moving from Manichaeism to
Catholicism to take the final step, or one recently converted to remain firm
in his or her resolve, i.e. that this passage is a protreptic in the wide sense
defined earlier (Kotzé 2011 and 2013, forthcoming).16
Above I commented on the fact that many interpretations of book 4
of the Confessions focus on the various philosophical issues that underlie
the narrative while they seem to either take for granted or disregard the
extent to which this is a book about Manichaeism. Thus, braving the dan-
ger of stating the obvious, I have to repeat that the way I read it, every-
thing in book 4 concerns Manichaeism: the narrator shows the reader how
Augustine the Manichaean lived and thought during his nine years as a
committed Manichaean, or rather how this Augustine’s everyday life as
well as his intellectual and spiritual quest for truth was negatively influ-
enced by a Manichaean world view. Although Augustine, in the artfully con-
structed prologue, distinguishes between what he did palam and occulte it
seems clear to me that in book 4 he does not tell two stories, one about
his secular career and another about his religious activities. The strongest
16 I find it fascinating that Steidle (1982: 458) calls this section a “predigtartiger Paraenese”
on the basis of his insight: “[i]n 4,12,18 wendet sich Augustin nicht nur an sich selbst …,
sondern zugleich … an die Menschen, die er liebt.” Thus he recognizes the strong appeal here,
but sees it, I suspect, as an address to insiders (a paraenetic address) and not as an address to
the Manichaeans (which he may have called a protreptic address according to mainstream
definitions then and later).
124 annemaré kotzé
indication that Augustine also regards the events of the secular career de-
scribed here as experienced with Manichaeans and as a Manichaean is
the fact that he follows the list of errors associated with the doctrinae lib-
erales (in the opening paragraph) with the remark that the whole group
participating in these actions hoped to be cleansed from the sins thus
incurred through the Manichaean elite: illac autem purgari nos ab istis sor-
dibus expetentes. The book as a whole tells the story of a Manichaean private
life (living with his common-law wife and possibly practicing birth con-
trol as prescribed for Auditors),17 Manichaean friendship, a career pursued
together with Manichaean friends (within the framework regarded as suit-
able according to Manichaean standards)18 and an intellectual and spiritual
development stunted by Manichaean ways of thinking. It is important to
remember that this is the Manichaean context in which the central passage
is embedded.
My analysis of the central passage of book 4 is informed also to an impor-
tant extent by other features of the opening paragraph. It makes sense to
read the first person plural in 4.1 (seducebamur et seducebamus) as refer-
ring not only to Augustine but to the group of Manichaeans of whom he
formed part at this stage of his life. And when Augustine switches from the
plural to the singular in et sectabar ista atque faciebam, he repeats explicitly
that this was done together with Manichaean friends: cum amicis meis, per
me ac mecum deceptis.19 At the same time the use of the first person plural
has the effect of including Manichaean readers and of expressing Augus-
tine’s identification with fellow Manichaeans. Here the distance created by
the third person references in 3.6.10 (incidi in homines …) seems erased.
Even the biting effect of cum eis, qui appellantur electi et sancti, afferemus
escas, de quibus nobis in officinal aqualiculi sui fabricarent angelos et deos
per quos liberaremur is softened by the use of the first person plural, and
thus the admission that Augustine himself was fully part of this misguided
behaviour.
There is no clear indication to whom the words arrogantes in the next
sentence (inrideant me arrogantes) and fortes et potentes in the last sentence
refer (sed inrideant nos fortes et potentes) or whether Augustine is simply
17 See Starnes 1990: 90–92 on the presence of the notion of the three Manichaean seals in
paragraph as executed by Manichaeans. Especially the idea of deception was associated with
Manichaeism in book 3: seducere in 3.6.11, 3.12.21 (also in 6.7.12, and 8.10.22) and decipere in
3.6.10 and 3.7.12.
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 125
quoting scripture, as Clark (1995: 161) puts it, “[surrounding] his errors with
biblical phrases.” While arrogantes is close to the semantic fields of the terms
frequently used to refer to the Manichaeans, and horrenda arrogantia is in
fact ascribed to them in 8.10.22, in the current context this group is rather
associated with nos, the object of the second inrideant and thus contrasted
with the arrogantes, fortes and potentes. The logic of the narrative here, in
fact, forces us to see fortes et potentes as those who have never succumbed
to Manichaeism, who have never been brought as low by God: inrideant
me arrogantes et nondum salubriter prostrati et elisi a te, deus meus. At the
same time the passage conveys a strong sense of sympathy with all those
who have fallen this low and may now speak with Augustine as infirmi et
inopes.
To come to the central passage: the six paragraphs that I regard as crucial
to the meaning of book 4 occur within the context of a book with a clear
focus on Manichaeism throughout and immediately following the mem-
orable and poignant description of Manichaean friendship (first with the
friend who died and then in 4.13 with other Manichaean friends). As I have
indicated, I read this section as consisting of 1) two paragraphs (4.14–15) of
retrospective reflection, in the present of the narrator, on the preceding nar-
rative,20 and 2) four more paragraphs (4.16–19) that differ even more from the
preceding and subsequent sections than the first two paragraphs (4.14–15)
in the fact that here the narrator abandons the prayer stance and instead
address his own soul, including an embedded section where he commands
his own soul to address other souls.
The following represents a closer look at the whole central passage of
book 4 (4.14–19), which, as I have indicated, does not contain normal narra-
tive but only reflection mixed with prayer in 4.14–15 and the apostrophe of
the soul in the last four paragraphs 4.16–19. The whole section is thematically
closely linked to what went before: the death of the friend forms the back-
ground against which the contents of these paragraphs acquire meaning. Yet
here we are presented with the insights and advanced understanding of the
older Augustine about what the nature of the friendship should have been
and how he would indeed have been able to find consolation in God, had he
not been constrained by Manichaean thinking.
20 Starnes’ insight that 4.14 represents a kind of finality also indirectly supports my argu-
ment that this paragraph can be seen as the beginning of a new unit of meaning within the
structure of the book as a whole: “This is his final answer about the cause of his grief” (1990:
98).
126 annemaré kotzé
21 Sense perception was, of course, central to Manichaean epistemology and belief, as also
emphasized by Johannes van Oort in his article, “God, Memory and Beauty. A ‘Manichaean’
Analysis of Augustine’s Confessions, Book 10,1–38,” in this volume.
22 Note O’Donnell’s precision (1992: 238): “the anima is not identical with the ‘self’: hence
Although I cannot go into this fascinating issue here, I have often noted
that, as in 4.16–19, the fabric of the narrative in the Confessions almost always
constitutes a complicated web of voices and the relationship between the
narrated Augustine and the narrating instance frequently stretches the
boundaries of the framework within which it professes to function.23 Often
the voice of the narrator (the converted bishop) makes statements that log-
ically could only have been made by the narrated Augustine, but without
introducing these properly with phrases like: “then I said” or “at that stage
I believed.” There are, for example, many places where the narrative in fact
presents the voice of the already converted bishop-narrator pleading to be
led to God, pleading to be saved, something which may be still part of the
bishop’s on-going quest to be closer to God but is certainly also on some level
a reflection of the sighs and prayers of the narrated Augustine at an earlier
stage of his life. This is often further complicated by the fact that the words of
the speaker are words from scripture: they are words that the speaker appro-
priates but they are also God’s words.
In the passage under discussion here the situation is even more elu-
sive and complicated. The narrating bishop Augustine talks to his own
soul, but what he tells this soul are the things that the soul of the young
Manichaean Augustine needed to know and which, presumably, the soul
of the mature Augustine knows already (e.g. audi et tu: verbum ipsum cla-
mat, ut redeas). I cannot but read this as the older Augustine speaking,
in fact, to the soul of any Manichaean struggling with the same questions
about God and life that he had struggled with during that tempus anno-
rum novem described in book 4.24 This interpretation is reinforced by the
fact that Augustine uses the words clamare and redire, which reminds of
the Manichaean Call and Answer, thus a phrase with familiar and powerful
echoes for a Manichaean reader (which is repeated, significantly in the cli-
mactic 4.19). To make the narrative even more polyphonic, we subsequently
find in the text the insights of the mature Augustine into the solutions for
the problems of one thinking within a Manichaean framework; but now the
soul, who immediately before had been in need of consolation itself, is com-
manded to speak these words: dic eis: hunc amemus: ipse fecit haec et non est
longe. non enim fecit atque abiit, sed ex illo in illo sunt.
Whereas I read the whole of the Confessions as a protreptic that targets
to an important extent a liminal Manichaean reader, paragraphs 4.16–19
constitutes the first almost direct protreptic to such a reader (the second is
found in book 9 in the meditation on Psalm 4).25 Apart from the fact that the
apostrophe of the own (Manichaean) soul is already well designed to appeal
to the liminal Manichaean, the embedded apostrophe of the other souls
constitutes an even more direct protreptic, as the phrases neatly framing
this secondary address make abundantly clear: rape ad eum [sc deum] quas
potes [sc. animas], et dic eis (4.18) and dic eis ista … et sic eos rape tecum
ad deum (4.19). The function of the words spoken to the other souls, so it
is explicitly stated here, is to convert them. The narrator’s grieving soul is
commanded specifically to turn such souls away from thinking within a
Manichaean framework which would make them experience similar loss
and a similar inability to find consolation in the phatasma which they
worship as god.
In the following I discuss the apostrophe to the own soul before I end
with some remarks on the apostrophe of the soul to the other souls. While
4.17 recapitulates the idea of transience evoked in 4.15, as O’Donnell (1992:
240) also remarks, it is especially 4.16, through the appeal to the soul (and
thus also to the reader), that has an entirely different character from the
preceding. This is not theoretical reflection but a direct, emotional, one
to one address (audi et tu). It is clear from a number of factors that some
kind of climax is being approached: deep sympathy for the embattled soul
is discernible in the statements that it is deafened by the din in its heart
(in aure cordis tumultu vanitatis) and exhausted by its futile search (fatigata
fallaciis); the soul is assured of God’s presence and his desire to have it return
to him (verbum ipsum clamat, ut redeas; numquid ego aliquo discedo? ait
verbum dei); the soul is urged to find stability, without devastating loss, in
(the Catholic creator) God and his word, within a world described in the
26 For a more comprehensive indication of the scriptural quotes or echoes see for exam-
ple the footnotes in Boulding’s translation (2002: 67) and O’Donnell’s commentary on this
paragraph (1992: 239–240).
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 131
they will find stability and rest (redite, praevaricatores, ad cor et inhaerete
illi … state cum eo et stabitis, requiescite in eo et quieti eritis). The last part of
paragraph 4.18 contains repeated questions that express a desperate desire
to change the way in which the addressed souls are currently searching
for God (quo itis in aspera? quo itis? … quo vobis adhuc et adhuc ambulare
vias difficiles et laboriosas? … quomodo enim beata vita, ubi nec vita?).27 The
most important point here is that the addressees are not indifferent sinners,
but (Manichaean) souls involved in an earnest search for God, rest and
happiness, though searching in the wrong way and in the wrong places;
the narrator’s urgent concern for them is discernible in the repetitive short
sentences: non est requies ubi quaeratis eam. quaerite quod quaeritis, sed ibi
non est ubi quaeritis. beatam vitam quaeritis in regione mortis: non est illic.28
The paragraph ends with the notion that these souls are searching for the
beata vita in the region of death, where there is no happy life, in fact, no life
at all. And vita is the word picked up at the beginning of the next paragraph:
the vita which the searching souls cannot find is Christ (et descendit huc ipsa
vita nostra).
This plea (which in the text Augustine’s soul is urged to direct at the
souls it loves) is in fact a very direct appeal to the liminal Manichaean
(or then any Manichaean willing to listen to Augustine this long). And the
ground for such a plea has been perfectly prepared: everything in book 4 is
designed to move the focus away from judgmental criticism of Manichaeism
and towards the positive common experiences of Augustine’s nine years as
a Manichaean, most pertinently his participation in warm and rewarding
Manichaean friendships. Yet the errors touched on constantly, but subtly
and in passing, are Manichaean errors: these are the ones who love creation
instead of the creator (as Augustine accuses them in 3.6.10, illa erant fercula
in quibus … inferebatur pro te sol et luna, pulchra opera tua, sed tamen opera
tua, non tu), the ones who do not love the highest God as the creator God
who created everything good (for them creation is the mixture of light and
matter that resulted from evil and that finally has to be dispersed); they
do not understand the incarnation of Christ or the resurrection (both their
docetism and their anthropology preclude this).
there Augustine also speaks of his frustration with his inability to break through to the
Manichaeans: legebam et ardebam, nec inveniebam quid facerem surdis mortuis ex quibus
fueram (Conf. 9.11).
28 For a discussion of how Augustine describes himself throughout the Confessions as
searching for God in the wrong places and in the wrong way see Kotzé 2004: 128–129.
132 annemaré kotzé
tion that “[Augustine] experienced this failure because the Manichaeans did not understand
God as the principle of the actual sensible concrete … The result was that the ‘liberation’ they
promised had logically to result in the dissolution of the actual individual into the contraries
from which he was composed” (1990: 95).
30 “[T]hose who aim at [eternal life by their own efforts] are people like the Platonists
whom Augustine will later criticize in book VII on this account … These are the ones whom
he calls [at the end of 4.19] to descend” (Starnes 1990: 101).
31 See my earlier article (Kotzé: 2001).
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 133
5. Conclusions
Thus, I see the unity of what I identify as the central passage in book 4 in
the reflection on loss, precipitated by the story of the death of Augustine’s
friend, and an effort to offer an alternative way of dealing with such loss. The
alternative is only attainable within the world view of the post-Manichaean
Augustine and his new (Catholic) understanding of the creator God and
Christ. Paragraph 4.14 already indicates how a happy life (one where loss
of a friend would not be totally devastating) is possible: beatus qui amat
te, et amicum in te, … solus enim nullum carum amittit, cui omnes in illo
cari, qui non amittitur. Paragraph 4.15 explains why loss is inevitable when
one thinks in Manichaean terms: firstly because all things come and go:
oriuntur et occident … sic modus eorum; and secondly because human sense
perception cannot perceive a universe which consists of parts that are not
present simultaneously (and thus experience loss): tardus est enim sensus
carnis … ipse est modus eius. The parallel phrases, sic modus eorum and
ipse est modus eius highlight the main points of the paragraph, and the
dilemma of a Manichaean world view where sense perception plays a crucial
role (as Augustine says of himself as a Manichaean in 3.6.11, cum te non
secundum intellectum mentis … sed secundum sensum carnis quaererem)32
and where the view of creation and man’s place in it makes catastrophic
loss inescapable.33
The last four paragraphs (4.16–19) provide the answer of the Catholic
Augustine to the problem of loss he experienced at the death of his friend
in Thagaste, as long as he was thinking within a Manichaean framework.
These are the contents of the urgent message his soul is told to convey to
the souls it loves: they should believe in God the creator of a good universe
who is never far away; they will find him in their hearts and in him they will
find stability, rest and an end to their viae difficiles et laboriosae; but most
of all, if only they would at last let go of their obstinacy (quousque graves
corde?) they will find death defeated in Christ and be able to ascend and
live (ascendere et vivere).
Starnes (1990: 95) points out that within the Manichaean world view
the death of a human being, in fact, constitutes the separation of his or
32 See Johannes van Oort’s article, “God, Memory and Beauty. A ‘Manichaean’ Analysis of
Augustine’s Confessions, Book 10,1–38,” in this volume for an incisive discussion of the role of
sense perception in Manichaean thought and practice.
33 See Starnes’ section on the perspectives arising from the Manichaean worldview on the
her constitutive parts and the resultant total dissolution of the person into
nothingness; death within the Manichaean paradigm can be nothing but
total devastating loss. The incarnation and resurrection incorporated in
the Christology of the Catholic world view, conversely, offer the only way
not to see death as the end, and thus a triumphant solution to the core
issue illuminated from paragraph 4.7 (in illis annis … comparaveram amicum
societate studiorum) onwards.
Augustine ends his powerful protreptic to the liminal Manichaean with
an expression of his conviction that it will achieve its goal (to forcefully
carry these souls to God). The reason for his confidence lies in the certainty
he expresses that the soul is saying these words through the Holy spirit
while burning with the fire of charitable love: et sic eos rape tecum ad deum,
quia de spiritu eius haec dicis eis, si dicis ardens igne caritatis. To me it is
undeniable that at the centre of a book focussing singularly on the problems
of Manichaean thinking the narrator forcefully addresses those who may,
like he himself at the stage of life recounted in this book, still be trapped
within the sphere of Manichaeism.
Referenced Works
Augustinus, Confessionum libri XIII. In J.J. O’Donnell (ed.), 1992. Augustine: Confes-
sions: Introduction and Text, vol. 1. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
BeDuhn, J.D. 2010. Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma. Conversion and Apostasy, 373–
388 C.E. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Boulding, Maria, tr. 1997. The Confessions: Introduction, Translation and Notes.
Edited by John E. Rotelle. The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the
21st Century. New York: New City Press.
Brachtendorf, J. 2005. Augustins “Confessiones.” Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buch-
gesellschaft.
Clark, G. 1995. Augustine. Confessions books I–IV. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press.
Courcelle, P. 1968.2 Recherches sur les Confessions de saint Augustin. 2nd ed. Paris: De
Boccard.
Erb, W. 2004.2 Confessiones 4. Die Wahrnehmung der eigenen Ortlosigkeit und die
Suche nach einem Zugang zur Welt und zu Gott. Pages 165–197 in Die Confes-
siones des Augustinus von Hippo. Einführung und Interpretationen zu den drei-
zehn Büchern. Edited by N. Fischer and C. Mayer. Freiburg, Basel, Vienna: Her-
der.
Feldmann, Erich. 1994. Confessiones. Pages 1134–1193 in vol. 1 of Augustinus-Lexikon.
Basel: Schwabe.
Kotzé, A. 2001. Reading Psalm 4 to the Manichaeans. Vigiliae Christianae 55: 119–136.
Kotzé, A. 2004. Augustine’s Confessions: Communicative Purpose and Audience. Sup-
plements to Vigiliae Christianae 71. Leiden & Boston: Brill.
a protreptic to a liminal manichaean 135
Josef Lössl
1 See J. Lössl, Augustinus. De vera religione. Die wahre Religion (Paderborn: Schöningh,
2007) 7–74.
2 See V.H. Drecoll and Mirjam Kudella, Augustin und der Manichäismus (Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2011) 108; and, more specifically, A. Hoffmann, ‘Secundinus in der Diskussion mit
Augustinus über das malum: Beobachtungen zu den augustinischen Quellen der Epistula
Secundini,’ in: J.A. van den Berg et al. (eds), ‘In Search of Truth’: Augustine, Manichaeism and
other Gnosticism. Studies for Johannes van Oort at Sixty (Leiden: Brill, 2011) 481–517 at 499–502.
3 Augustine, vera rel. 9.16 (CCL 32:198.4–6): Contra eos tamen potissimum est instituta, qui
duas naturas vel substantias singulis principiis adversus invicem rebelles esse arbitrantur. Com-
pare retr. 1.13.1 (CCL 57:36 l. 8–9): Maxime tamen contra duas naturas Manichaeorum liber hic
loquitur. Both statements are significant. They confirm that on the one hand Augustine him-
self acknowledged that there are other dominant themes in the work but that on the other
hand he consistently (both in 390 and in 427) saw the anti-Manichaean theme as predomi-
nant.
4 Augustine, c. Ep. Fund. 13 (CSEL 25:209.11–12); see M. Stein, Manichaica Latina 2: Mani-
about ‘the division of the two natures and the things concerning beginning,
middle and end.’5
Now Augustine immediately qualifies his statement. He insists that vera
rel. was not meant to be a one-by-one refutation of Manichaean teachings.
He had delivered such refutations elsewhere and ‘with God’s help’ would do
so further in the future.6 But the purpose of vera rel. was different. It was
to demonstrate, as best as possible, with reasoned arguments, ‘which the
Lord was so kind to provide’ (quas dominus dare dignatur, i. e. through his
revelation7), that the Catholic Faith was safe from these people and that that
which made contemporaries of insecure disposition fall for their preaching
should not really perturb anyone’s mind.8
It was in line with this latter passage that scholarship traditionally tended
not to list vera rel. among the anti-Manichaean works. Rather, it was counted
among the ‘theological’ works. The arguments quas dominus dare dignatur
were identified as basic tenets of orthodox Christian teachings and vera rel.
as a whole as an in nuce systematic (dogmatic) theological treatise with a
Platonist edge. Wilhelm Geerlings once referred to it as ‘Augustine’s first
attempt at a comprehensive presentation [a “Gesamtsystem”] of Christian
Philosophy / Theology.’9 The first to interpret vera rel. in this way was again
5 CMC 132.11–15: τὴν διάστασιν τῶν δύο φύσεων καὶ τὰ περὶ ἀρχῆς καὶ μεσότητος καὶ τέλους;
L. Koenen and C. Römer, Der Kölner Mani-Kodex (Opladen: Westdeutscher Verlag, 1988)
94–95; cf. Stein, Manichaica Latina 2 (n. 4) 63.
6 Augustine completed vera rel. early in 391 at the latest. Anti-Manichaean works he
wrote before vera rel. include De moribus and De Genesi contra Manichaeos (both ca. 388).
Many more such works followed in the years to come (between 391 and 405), and it is
interesting to note here that Augustine was anticipating this future activity; vera rel. 9.17
(CCL 32:198.21–22): Neque nunc eorum opiniones refellimus … partim quantum deus siverit
faciemus.
7 The phrase used in vera rel., e.g. 7.13 (CCL 32:196.20–21) is ‘the history and prophecy of
the temporal dispensation of God’s providence for the salvation of humankind’, historia et
prophetia dispensationis temporalis divinae providentiae pro salute generis humani.
8 Augustine, vera rel. 9.17 (CCL 32:198.21–26): … sed in hoc opere, quomodo adversus
eos fides catholica tuta sit, te quomodo non perturbent animum ea, quibus commoti homines
in eorum cedunt sententiam, rationibus, quas dominus dare dignatur, quantum possumus
demonstramur. Drecoll and Kudella, Augustin (n. 2) 108 speak of the ‘affirmative Gestalt’ of
the work, which raises doubts about its anti-Manichaean credentials. In terms of literary form
Augustine seems to say here that he intends to write a protrepticus, an invitation intellectually
and practically to embrace the life of an orthodox Christian, quasi as a philosophy (in the
sense of philosophy as a way of life); see Lössl, Augustinus (n. 1) 9; and compare J. Lössl,
‘Augustine’s Confessions as a Consolation of Philosophy,’ in: Van den Berg et al., ‘In Search
of Truth’ (n. 2) 47–73 at 53 n. 32.
9 W. Geerlings, Augustinus. Leben und Werk. Eine bibliographische Einführung (Pader-
augustine on the true religion 139
none other than Augustine himself. At the beginning of the very passage in
the Retractationes where he also claims that ‘nevertheless, most of all, this
book is against the Manichaean teaching of the two natures’, he stresses that
vera rel. is mainly about the oneness of God, the Trinity, salvation history,
and Christian worship, i. e. core orthodox (catholic) Christian teachings,
unfolded as the Christian message of God’s providence concerning the sal-
vation of humankind.10
And, as if this were not enough, yet another potential purpose of the work
has been identified. Shortly after Augustine’s death the Indiculum,11 a list of
his works traditionally attributed to Possidius,12 but perhaps going back to a
list compiled by Augustine himself during his lifetime,13 counts vera rel. as an
‘anti-pagan’ work,14 directed mainly against pagan Neoplatonism. This seems
confirmed by the opening sentences of the work, where it says that the way
(via) to a good and happy life is found in the true religion (vera religio), which
is worship of the one true God; the error, therefore, of those who worship
many gods is underlined by the fact that their so-called philosophers are
divided into schools, competing against each other, while worshipping in
the same temples; unlike their Christian counterparts they teach one thing
in public and practice another in private.15 Augustine singles out Socrates
born: Schöningh, 2002) 170: ‘… A.’s erster Versuch, ein Gesamtsystem christlicher Philosophie
/ Theologie vorzulegen.’
10 Retr. 1.13.1 (CCL 57:36.1–8): … disputatur unum deum verum … trinitatem … religione vera
colendum, et quanta misericordia eius per temporalem dispensationem concessa sit hominibus
christiana religio … Maxime tamen contra duas naturas Manichaeorum liber hic loquitur.
Some of these tenets, notably the oneness and the trinity of God, were endorsed by African
Manichaeans, though in ways that differed markedly from catholic Orthodoxy; see J.K. Coyle,
‘Characteristics of Manichaeism in Roman Africa,’ in: J.D. BeDuhn (ed.), New Light on Mani-
chaeism (Leiden: Brill, 2009) 101–114 at 108–110. Note that Augustine says that he writes mostly
against the Manichaean doctrine of the two natures rather than everything Manichaean.
11 For the title of the work see A. Mutzenbecher, ‘Bemerkungen zum Indiculum des
Possidius. Eine Rezension,’ RÉAug 33 (1987), 129–131; G. Madec, ‘Possidius de Calama et les
listes des oeuvres d’Augustin,’ in: J.-C. Fredouille et al. (eds), Titres et articulations du texte
dans les oeuvres antiques (Paris: Institut d’Études Augustiniennes, 1997) 427–445 at 427 n. 1;
W. Hübner, ‘Indiculum oder Indiculus?’, in: G. Förster, A. Grote, C. Müller (eds), Spiritus
et littera. Beiträge zur Augustinus-Forschung. Festschrift Cornelius Petrus Mayer (Würzburg:
Augustinus-Verlag, 2009) 597–614.
12 For the link to Possidius see E.T. Hermanowicz, Possidius of Calama. A Study of the North
African Episcopate at the Time of Augustine (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008) 1–63.
13 Augustine seems to refer to such a work in retr. 2.41 (CCL 57:123.10): … in opusculorum
meorum indiculo …; see F. Dolbeau, ‘Indiculum,’ AugL 3/3–4, 2006, 571–581 at 571–572.
14 Indic. 1.2 (A. Wilmart, ‘Operum S. Augustini Elenchus a Possidio eiusdem discipulo
Calamensi episcopo digestus,’ in: Miscellanea Agostiniana, volume II. Studi Agostiniani, Rome
1931, 149–233 at 165).
15 Compare vera rel. 1.1 (CCL 32:187.4–8): … omnis vitae bonae ac beatae via in vera religione
140 josef lössl
and especially Plato, criticising the latter for not professing in public the
truth which he clearly perceived in private, whether on grounds of fear,
or of opportunism (utrum timore an aliqua cognitione temporum).16 If Plato
were alive today, thus Augustine, his teaching of the essentially intellectual
character of true knowledge would surely compel his pupils to convert to
Christianity.17 Augustine here touches upon the core of his argument in vera
rel., the distinction between the material and the immaterial, the immanent
and the transcendent, the sensual and the intellectual. He eloquently pro-
fesses a Christian Platonism, which is influenced by Plotinus and mediated
to some degree (via Marius Victorinus as translator) by Porphyry.18 So strong
is this Neoplatonist impetus that it is difficult to identify the Manichaean
reflections in the work, which undoubtedly exist. Instead, one is drawn to
the work’s ‘monist’ structure, a rhetoric of ‘the One’, which seems to shape
the whole work and to be influenced by Plotinian Neoplatonism.19 The dual-
istic nature of Manichaeism in contrast is highlighted and even overexposed
as a largely negative characteristic, and one that was affecting all aspects of
Manichaean teaching including the doctrine of God and the Soul.
2. Techniques of Anti-Manichaean
Argument and Manichaean Responses
… constituta, qua unus deus colitur … hinc evidentius error deprehenditur eorum … qui multos
deos colere … maluerunt, quod eorum sapientes, quos philosophos vocant, scholas habebant
dissentientes et templa communia.
16 Vera rel. 2.2 (CCL 32:188.17–28).
17 Vera rel. 3.3 (CCL 32:188.4–8): … si quis eius [scil. Platonis] discipulus eo ipso tempore quo
vivebat, cum sibi ab illo persuaderetur non corporeis oculis, sed pura mente veritatem videri …
18 For details Lössl, Augustinus (n. 1) 30–37.
19 For a study of this structural feature see J. Lössl, ‘“The One”. A guiding concept in
Augustine, De vera religione,’ RÉAug 40 (1994) 79–103; and Lössl, Augustinus (n. 1) 20–25.
20 See C.G. Scibona, ‘The Doctrine of the Soul in Manichaeism and Augustine,’ in: Van den
(with Secundinus) and in c. Faust., and are documented in c. Fort., c. Fel., c. Sec. and c. Faust.;
see J.D. BeDuhn, ‘Did Augustine Win His Debate with Fortunatus?’, in: Van den Berg et al., ‘In
Search of Truth’ (n. 2) 463–479; G. Sfameni Gasparro, ‘The Disputation with Felix: Themes and
augustine on the true religion 141
decade following the publication of vera rel. attempted to put the record
straight.22 As Concetta Giuffré Scibona has pointed out, it is in vera rel. 9.16
that Augustine for the first time referred to a ‘Manichaean’ teaching of two
opposing souls, good and evil.23 In the sentence before he had quite correctly,
almost literally, cited from the Epistula Fundamenti that there existed, in
exordio, two substances, or natures.24 But nowhere does the Epistula Fun-
damenti mention two opposing souls. Rather, in Manichaean doctrine the
soul is a part of God, the good substance, which can also be referred to as
‘one’ and ‘immutable’.25 As Fortunatus put it in his debate with Augustine
in 392: Christ ‘elected the souls for himself as worthy of his will, sanctified
by his heavenly mandates, by faith and reason filled with heavenly things
so that led by him they would return to God’s kingdom according to his
sacred promise.’26 And probably around eight years later and ten years after
the publication of vera rel. the Italian Manichaean Secundinus would put it
as follows: It is spirits ‘that fight for the sake of the souls [and not two souls
Modalities of Augustine’s Polemic,’ in: Van den Berg et al., ‘In Search of Truth’ (n. 2) 519–544;
G. Wurst, ‘Antimanichäische Werke,’ in: V.H. Drecoll (ed), Augustin-Handbuch (Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2007) 309–316 (on Fortunatus and Faustus); Hoffmann, ‘Secundinus’ (n. 2);
J. van Oort, ‘Secundini Manichaei Epistula. Roman Manichaean “Biblical” Argument in the
Age of Augustine,’ in: J. van Oort, O. Wermelinger, G. Wurst (eds), Augustine and Manichaeism
in the Latin West (Leiden: Brill, 2001; repr. 2012) 161–173.
22 For Fortunatus see Augustine, c. Fort. 3 (CSEL 25/1:85.16–86.2), where Fortunatus em-
phasizes the incorruptibility and oneness of God and the sanctity of the elected souls, who
share in the former; for similar statements by Faustus and Felix: Augustine, c. Faust. 20.2
(CSEL 25/1:536.9–23); c. Fel. 1.18 (CSEL 25/2:822.6–824.10); on the latter see Scibona, ‘The Doc-
trine’ (n. 26) 391–392: ‘The oneness and the immutability of such a substance, of which the
Soul is part, are even more stressed in Felix’s answers to Augustine’s precise questions’; for
Secundinus: Hoffmann, ‘Secundinus’ (n. 2) 481–517 at 499–502.
23 Vera rel. 9.16 (CCL 32:198.10–12): … duas animas esse in uno corpore existimant: unam
de Deo, quae naturaliter hoc sit quod ipse; alteram de gente tenebrarum; see Scibona, ‘The
Doctrine’ (n. 20) 387. In 391, roughly a year after vera rel., Augustine would write De duabus
animabus and elaborate on this doctrine. Another year later, in August 392, he would engage
in a debate with the Manichaean presbyter Fortunatus, who rejected his explanation of the
doctrine as incorrect.
24 See above nn. 3 and 4.
25 As in the references cited above n. 22. The Latin termini used in those passages include
summus, unus, principalis, inaccessibilis, immutabilis, aeternus, co-aeternus (for the soul),
incorruptibilis, lucidus, inadibilis, inpassibilis. The list is not complete; compare J. van Oort,
‘Index of Manichaean Terms and Concepts’, in: F. Decret & J. van Oort, Sanctus Augustinus,
Acta contra Fortunatum Manichaeum (CFM SL II), Turnhout: Brepols 2004, 85–124, esp. at 121.
26 Augustine, c. Fort. 3 (CSEL 25/1:85.16–86.2): … dignas sibi animas elegisse sanctae suae
voluntati mandatis suis caelestibus sanctificatas, fide et ratione inbutas caelestium rerum ipso
ductore hinc iterum easdem animas ad regnum die reversurus esse secundum sanctam ipsius
pollicitationem …
142 josef lössl
struggling against each other]. In their [i.e. the spirits’] midst is placed a soul,
to which from the beginning its own [divine] nature has given the victory.’27
According to Secundinus the soul is victorious from the outset because it
shares its nature with God. There is no evil soul opposing a good soul. Evil
consists in the ‘dark stuff’ threatening to tie the soul to itself.28 The challenge
of the soul is not so much to oppose an evil will as to stay on the right (or
‘light’) side in the struggle of the spirits. Secundinus criticises Augustine for
misunderstanding the nature of evil, which in his view is not caused by an
opposing will but by the soul’s being mixed with flesh and succumbing to
this state rather than managing to free itself from it.29 Augustine in contrast,
in his ‘remarkable learning’, thus Secundinus, sarcastically, ‘either recounts
that the devil was made (factum) from an archangel or states that he is
nothing (nihil).’30
gratia. Horum in medio posita est anima, cui a principio natura sua dedit victoria. For the
English translation see M. Vermes, ‘Epistula Secundini,’ in: I. Gardner and S.N.C. Lieu (eds),
Manichaean Texts from the Roman Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004)
136–142 at 137.
28 More precisely, the soul is at risk of ‘being affixed’ (affigi) to the ‘globular mass’, in which
evil is eventually going to be imprisoned forever. According to Manichaean teaching this does
not make the souls evil, or damned, their lack of commitment to God merely keeps them
further away from the Father and closer to darkness, where they have to remain quasi as sen-
tries, keeping evil in its place; for a detailed discussion of the concept see B. Bennett, ‘Globus
horribilis: The role of the bolos in Manichaean eschatology and its polemical transformation
in Augustine’s anti-Manichaean writings,’ in: Van den Berg et al., ‘In Search of Truth’ (n. 2)
427–440, especially 430–431.
29 Cf. Secundinus, ep. ad Aug. 2 (CSEL 25/2:894): Carnis enim commixtione ducitur, non
propria voluntate. This does not necessarily amount to fatalism or determinism, as Augustine
polemically suggested. Elsewhere the Manichaean Felix responded to Augustine, quoting a
Manichaean source, the so-called Treasury of Life, that in its negligence the soul culpably
lacked the will to follow God’s commands; see Augustine, c. Fel. 2.5 (CSEL 25/2:822.22–27):
… negligentia … mandatisque divinis ex integro parum obtemperaverint, legemque sibi a suo
liberatore datam plenius servare noluerint neque ut decebat sese gubernaverint. ET Gardner
and Lieu, Manichaean Texts (n. 27) 159. For a discussion see N. Baker-Brian, Manichaeism.
An ancient faith rediscovered (London: Continuum, 2011) 79–80. There is some similarity
with Plotinus’ idea in Enn. 3.2.7 that although souls that are ‘mixed’ with bodies cannot be
expected to be as perfect as pure intellects, they are not excused if they ‘choose’ not to strive
for perfection at least within their limitations. Porphyry was to put it far more strongly, as
would, perhaps influenced by him, Augustine with his concept of nequitia (‘wickedness’) in
vera rel. 11.21 (CCL 32:200.4); see Theiler, ‘Porphyrios und Augustin’, in his Forschungen zum
Neuplatonismus (Berlin: Akademie, 1966) 160–251 at 192. Thus, interestingly, the differences
on this matter between Secundinus and Augustine seem to run (to a certain degree) parallel
to the differences between Plotinus and Porphyry.
30 Secundinus, ep. ad Aug. 2 (CSEL 25/2:894–895): [diabolus] … quem tua mira prudentia
aut ex archangelo factum memorat, aut nihil esse fatetur. ET adapted from Gardner and Lieu,
Manichaean Texts (n. 27) 137.
augustine on the true religion 143
31 Secundinus, ep. ad Aug. 3 (CSEL 25/2:895): Legit enim aliquanta exile meum et quale-
cumque Romani hominis ingenium, reverendae tuae Dignationis scripta, in quibus sic irasceris
veritati, ut philosophiae Hortensius.—‘My slight and nondescript Roman intellect has read a
number of writings by your reverend honour, in which you show as much anger with the truth
[= Manichaeism] as does Hortensius with philosophy.’ ET Gardner and Lieu, Manichaean
Texts (n. 27) 137. This is usually understood to allude to Conf. 3.4.7–8. Hortensius, the title-
figure of the Ciceronian dialogue which triggered Augustine’s conversion to Manichaeism,
was of course the stubborn and anti-intellectual Roman magnate whom Cicero tried in vain
to convert to philosophy. Secundinus’ allusion is full of irony: According to the dialogue
Cicero did eventually succeed to convert Hortensius, but Augustine was in the end lost to
‘the truth’ (i. e. Manichaeism).
32 See Hoffmann, ‘Secundinus’ (n. 2) 481–484 (with further literature).
33 For this possibility see once more Theiler, ‘Porphyrios und Augustin’ (n. 29) 187–197,
in quantum vita est, malum est, sed in quantum vergit ad mortem … 13.26 (203.1–5): Nec aliquid
sanctificatis malus angelus oberit, qui diabolus dicitur, quia et ipse in quantum angelus est
non est malum, sed in quantum perversus est … Eo enim, quo minus est, quam erat, tendit ad
mortem … 18.35 (208.1–5): … Qui summe est … deus incommutabilis trinitas … fecit [sc. omnia]
ut essent. Ipsum enim quantumcumque esse bonum est, quia summum bonum est summe esse.
Unde fecit? Ex nihilo …
35 Augustine, vera rel. 11.21 (CCL 32:200.3–6): Mors autem vitae non est nisi nequitia, quae ab
eo quod nequiquam sit dicta est, et ideo nequissimi homines nihili homines appellantur. Accord-
ing to Lewis and Short nequitia denotes anything ‘of bad quality’, in particular ‘bad moral
quality’. The associated adjective is nequam (‘worthless’, ‘wretched’, ‘vile’), not nequiquam
(‘fruitlessly’, ‘in vain’). Nequissimus is the superlative of nequam. The adjective nihilus does
not seem classical, but nihil was used: ‘[aliquem] nihil esse’, ‘[that x] is completely useless’, or
144 josef lössl
betrayal of Manichaean doctrine, and calls on him ‘to return to the truth’ (ad
veritatem … converte).36 The verb converte aside,37 the repeated use of the
word ‘truth’ (veritas) in this context, an important epithet in Manichaean
texts,38 echoes the adjective ‘true’ (vera) in the title of vera rel. (‘true reli-
gion’),39 while Secundinus’ accusation that Augustine is ‘making excuses by
resorting to lies’ (his mendaciis te excusare) could be an allusion to Augus-
tine’s misrepresentation of the Manichaean teaching of the soul in vera rel.
‘powerless’ (e.g. Cicero, ad fam. 7.27.2); or accepimus eum nihil hominis esse, ‘… that he is a
worthless fellow’ (Cicero, Tusc. 3.32.77).
36 Secundinus, ep. ad Aug. 2 (CSEL 25/2:895): Muta, quaeso, sententiam, depone Punicae
gentis perfidiam, et recessionem tuam ad veritatem, quae per timorem facta est, converte: noli
his mendaciis te excusare. ET Gardner and Lieu, Manichaean Texts (n. 27) 137.
37 In vera rel. 15.29 (CCL 32:205.5–6) Augustine speaks of turning our love away from the
desires of the body towards the eternal essence of truth, a corporis voluptatibus ad aeternam
essentiam veritatis amorem nostrum oportere converti.
38 In the excerpt from the Living Gospel cited in the Cologne Mani Codex God is called the
‘Father of Truth’ (πατὴρ τῆς ἀληθείας). The text continues: ‘… and from him all that is true
was revealed to me, and from (his) truth I exist’ (CMC 66; Koenen and Römer, Der Kölner
Mani-Kodex (n. 5) 44–47). In fact it was the recognition of this phrase in the codex that
triggered its identification as a Manichaean source (Gardner and Lieu, Manichaean Texts
(n. 27) 41. 156). Elsewhere Manichaeism is referred to as ‘true faith’ (vera fides) and Mani as the
‘true prophet’, while Manichaeans are called ‘hearers of the true word’ (ibid. 121, 34, 157). Mani
is also referred to as ‘spirit’ or ‘paraclete of truth’ (1 Keph 14.3–16.2; ibid. 74), a notion which
Augustine picks up in Conf. 3.6.10 (CCL 27:33), where the paraclete is described as ‘consoler’;
the passage ends with the sarcastic remark that the Manichaeans kept on saying ‘truth, truth’,
when in fact they never were in possession of it: Et dicebant ‘veritas et veritas’ et multum eam
dicebant mihi et nusquam erat in eis.
39 The title of vera rel. links a philosophical concept of ‘truth’ with a practical concept of
‘religion’, uniquely in early Christian literature (Lössl, Augustinus (n. 1) 27 and 76 n. 1). Vera rel.
identifies ‘religion’ as worship (generically speaking) with ‘philosophy’ as ‘rational discipline’
(rationalis … disciplina; vera rel. 29.53–30.54). In vera rel. 5.8 Augustine famously declares
that philosophy is identical with religion, non aliam esse philosophiam … et aliam religionem
… The only religion in Late Antiquity of which this could be said without hesitation was
Manichaeism (cf. Gardner and Lieu, Manichaean Texts (n. 27) 11) because of its strong
rationalistic outlook. The fact that in vera rel. Augustine understands ‘truth’ in this ‘scientific’,
rationally demonstrable sense of disciplina and that he uses the generic term religio in the
title as well as in the body of the work instead of the more specific fides (e.g. as in Christiana
fides) suggests that when he uses the expression vera religio with his addressee/s in mind, he
also, and in fact perhaps first and foremost, thinks of Manichaeism.
augustine on the true religion 145
pergentem et domo et sumptu et, quod plus est, animo excepisti; compare also Lössl, Augustinus
(n. 1) 12–14; Th. Fuhrer, Augustin. Contra Academicos (Berlin and New York: De Gruyter, 1997)
4–5.128.
42 This would have been in 373. The main source for the relevant events is Augustine, Conf.
3.4.7–6.10 (CCL 27:29–33); see Drecoll and Kudella, Augustin und der Manichäismus (n. 2)
58–80.
43 Compare c. Acad. 1.1.3 (CCL 29:5.73–75): ipsa [scil. philosophia] me penitus ab illa super-
Yet in vera rel. 7.12 (CCL 32:195–196), nearly four years later, he still finds that Romanianus
has not yet made up his mind. His most penetrating questioning still betrays uncertainty: …
postquam tuas acerrimas interrogationes sine ullo certo fine fluctuare. This is not the descrip-
tion of a man who became (and later ceased to be) a Manichaean lightly; on Romanianus’
later fate see Fuhrer, Augustin (n. 41) 4–5.
45 This is not yet obvious in Augustine’s dedicatory letter to Romanianus accompanying
vera rel., ep. 15 (CSEL 34/1:35–36): Scripsi quiddam de catholica religione, quantum dominus
dare dignatus est, quod tibi volo ante adventum meum mittere …, which was followed by two
more letters, epp. 16 and 17 (37–43), similar in sentiment. But a few years later, in epp. 27.4
(99) and 31.7 (CSEL 34/2:17–18), Augustine commends Romanianus and his son Licentius to
Paulinus of Nola and Therasia (sending along a copy of vera rel. as a present). In turn, Paulinus
himself writes to Romanianus, ep. 32 (9–17). On Romanianus’ status relative to Augustine and
Paulinus see S. Mratschek, Der Briefwechsel des Paulinus von Nola (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 2002) 343–345.478–480. If Romanianus is also the addressee of Augustine’s ep.
259 (CSEL 57:611–615), which probably dates from 408 and is addressed to a Cornelius (who
could be Romanianus, if Romanianus is identical with the Cornelius Romanianus attested
in CIL 8 suppl. 1 no. 17226), then he would have converted to Orthodoxy. In that letter
Augustine alludes to a perniciosissimus error which they shared in their youth, but which
is now apparently in the past. However, Augustine now takes issue with the moral behaviour
of his addressee and refuses to write him a consolatory piece on the death of his wife on
grounds that he lacks remorse. See for this J. Lössl, ‘Continuity and Transformation of Ancient
146 josef lössl
Consolation in Augustine of Hippo,’ in: H. Baltussen (ed.), Greek and Roman Consolations.
Eight Studies of a Tradition and its Afterlife (Swansea: Classical Press of Wales, 2013) 153–176
at 161–162 and 164.
46 Perhaps one should take Augustine’s own probable knowledge of Manichaeism during
his time as a Manichaean as a measure for Romanianus’ probable knowledge and ability
to argue about certain questions with Augustine; for Augustine see J. van Oort, ‘The Young
Augustine’s Knowledge of Manichaeism: An Analysis of the Confessiones and some other
relevant texts,’ Vigiliae Christianae 62 (2008) 441–466.
47 As mentioned earlier, this is one of the reasons why Augustine later had to revise it
so extensively in the Retractationes. For example, in vera rel. 16.31 (CCL 32:206.17) he argued
that Christ never resorted to violence (nihil egit vi), a statement which he retracted in retr.
1.13.6 (CCL 57:38–39). In 390 it would have impressed the Manichaean Romanianus, for
whom pacificism would have been both an ethical ideal and a trait in the personalities
of Mani and Jesus; on Manichaean attitudes to violence and their preference of πραύτης
(‘meekness’) see BeDuhn, ‘Did Augustine Win His Debate with Fortunatus?’ (n. 21) 472. In
vera rel. 25.47 (CCL 32:216–217) Augustine argues that the time of miracles was over, in retr.
1.13.7 (57:39) he retracts this view. In 390 it would have been attractive to a rationally thinking
Manichaean, and fitting for a rationalistic philosophy, a disciplina rationalis, as Augustine was
proposing it. In retr. 1.13.8 (57:40), retracting his view expressed in vera rel. 46.88 (32:244f.)
that ideally even married couples should abstain from sex, he goes as far as to suggest
that when expressing this view he was still unwittingly pandering to Manichaean views
about mortality and procreation. Thus the later Augustine found a considerable number of
problematic statements in this early work, and not all of them were problematic with a view
to the Pelagian controversy; thus already A. Harnack, Die Retractationen Augustins (SAB.PH;
Berlin: De Gruyter, 1905), 1096–1131 at 1097.
augustine on the true religion 147
48 For these two crucial areas of debate, freedom vs. fatalism/determinism and monism
vs. dualism (in regard to both God and the soul), see above n. 29 and nn. 22–30. With
regard to both these areas the Manichaean position was often notoriously misrepresented
by Augustine. In reality he shared a lot of common ground with Manichaean thinkers and
even tended to endorse Manichaean positions (e. g. that of Fortunatus on free will) when
not polemically challenged; see BeDuhn, ‘Did Augustine Win His Debate with Fortunatus?’
(n. 21).
49 See Conf. 3.4.7–6.10 (CCL 27:29–32) for the link between study of rhetoric, Cicero’s
Hortensius triggering an enthusiasm for ‘philosophy’, and frustrated Bible study, which led
to the discovery of the Manichaeans as people who combined ‘consoling’ talk (of Christ and
the Paraclete) and spiritual practice (prayer and hymn singing), which provided food for the
soul, with rational enquiry (seeking truth and cosmological explanations), which satisfied
intellectual demands; for the consolatory role attributed to philosophy in this context see
also Lössl, ‘Augustine’s Confessions as a Consolation of Philosophy’ (n. 8) at 56.
50 Vera rel. 5.8 (CCL 32:12–14): Sic enim creditur et docetur, quod est humanae salutis caput,
non aliam esse philosophiam, id est sapientiae studium, et aliam religionem … It may be worth
imagining for a moment Augustine making this statement in 373 or shortly after. It would
have fitted perfectly with his Manichaean experience.
51 Vera rel. 1.1 (CCL 32:187): Cum omnis vitae bonae ac beatae via in vera religione sit consti-
tuta, qua unus deus colitur et purgatissima pietate cognoscitur … evidentius error … eorum … qui
multos deos colere quam unum verum deum … maluerunt … eorum sapientes, quos philosophos
vocant … aliud … in religione suscepisse cum populo et aliud … defendisse privatim. This
148 josef lössl
such as ‘the good and happy life’, ‘the way’ (via), and ‘true religion’, and
strongly contrasts them with pagan culture, both intellectual and popular,
could indicate that with a view to his addressee/s he still wanted to suggest
that compared with Paganism, Manichaeism, false and error-ridden as it
was, contained a surprising amount of material that was acceptable and
useful to orthodox Christian perception. It is almost as if Augustine wanted
to give a hint that a Manichaean like Romanianus did not have to change too
much in order to convert to orthodox Christianity.52 Two words in particular
might be worth a closer look in view of exploring Manichaean reflections in
this opening statement of vera rel., ‘the way’ (via) and ‘religion’ (religio).
vera rel. 4.7 (CCL 32:192.22–23): … paucis mutatis verbis atque sententiis Christiani fierent.
53 At a very fundamental level Augustine could have been influenced by rhetorical tradi-
tion, which applied the metaphor to speech; e. g. Cicero, Fin. 1.9.29: … ut ratione et via procedat
oratio …
54 In Acts 9:1–2 Christianity itself is referred to as ‘the way’ and John 14:6 combines the
same three terms as vera rel. 1.1, way, truth, and life. Part of the latter verse is cited in c.
Faust. 12.26 (CSEL 25:355.15): ipse [scil. Christus] dixit, ego sum via. Ad ipsum ergo ascenditur.
Another important verse is Mt 7:13, which is partly paraphrased and partly cited in c. Faust.
32.11 (CSEL 25:770.16): angusta et arta est via quae ducit ad vitam.
55 Plotinus, Enn. 1.6.8: Τίς οὖν ὁ τρόπος; τίς μηχανή; the ascent itself is described in Enn.
1.6.6–7. For Porphyry, see Porphyry in Iamblichus, myst. 286.1: ἡ πρὸς εὐδαιμονίαν ὁδός, cited
in Theiler, ‘Porphyrios und Augustin’ (n. 29) 168. For further literature see Lössl, Augustinus
(n. 1) 76 n. 1. Latin via (not dissimilar to English ‘way’) covers a range of meanings for which
different Greek words would have been used including ὁδός, τρόπος, ἀτραπός or ἀταρπός
(ἀταρπιτός/ἀτραπιτός).
augustine on the true religion 149
several Manichaean sources including the Cologne Mani Codex and the
Tebessa Codex.56 The question how to proceed (by which τρόπος) is so fre-
quently addressed in the Cologne Mani Codex that it strikes as quite repeti-
tive,57 although it is of course in character with a work of instruction. In De
utilitate credendi—and occasionally in vera rel.—Augustine almost seems
to imitate this style.58 The relevant parts of both these works provide prac-
tical advice on ‘how’ (‘which way’) to go about searching for the truth and
embarking on a ‘path’ of wisdom etc., partly in a similar way as the relevant
passages in the CMC or similar works.59
56 CMC 67.7–8: … ἐκλογὴν ἐξελεξάμην καὶ ἀτραπὸν τὴν ἐπὶ τὸ ὕψος ὑπέδειξα τοῖς ἀνιοῦσι κατὰ
τὴν ἀλήθειαν τήνδε.—‘I have elected the election and shown the path that leads to the top to
those who according to the truth ascend to it.’ Koenen and Römer, Der Kölner Mani-Codex
(n. 5) 46. Codex Thevestinus Col. 9 (III 1) 8 [= A col. 43 (9) ed. Stein]: … discipuli […] appellati
sunt non inmerito. Sunt enim et opibus pauperes et numero pauci et per artam viam incedunt
angusto tramite …—‘The disciples are not undeservedly called […?]; for they are both poor
in resources and few in number and along a narrow road and a straight and narrow path
they walk.’ J. Beduhn and G. Harrison, ‘The Tebessa Codex: A Manichaean Treatise on Biblical
Exegesis and Church Order,’ in: P.A. Mirecki and J.D. Beduhn (eds), Emerging from Darkness:
Studies in the Recovery of Manichaean Sources (Leiden: Brill, 1997) 33–88 at 60. M. Stein,
Manichaica Latina 3/1: Codex Thevestinus (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2004) 46. The passage is
alluded to by Augustine in c. Faust. 32.11 (s. above n. 54) and by Secundinus, ep. ad Aug. 3
and 5 (CSEL 25/2:895/897): An emendatum in Evangelio est quod spatiosa via non deducat in
interitum? … Ad artam festina viam, ut consequaris vitam aeternam …
57 For a listing of references see Dictionary of Manichaean Texts I: Texts from the Roman
Empire (CFM, Subsidia I), Turnhout: Brepols 1998, 26. Some examples: CMC 12.7: ὃν τρόπον,
14.5: τοῦτῷ τῷ τρόπῳ, 20.12: κατὰ τοῦτον τὸν τρόπον, 21.4, 22.4: ποιῷ τρόπῳ, 45.4: περὶ τοῦ τρόπου
καθ᾽ ὃν …, 60.13: ὃν τρόπον καὶ ὁ ἀπόστολος Παῦλος ἴσμεν …
58 Compare util. cred. 14 (CSEL 25/1:19–20): … animam … viam … quaerere veritatis; 20
(24.16–18): … cuiusmodi viam usus fuerim, cum … quaererem veram religionem …; 24 (30.7–8):
Si hac via veniant … (30.19–20) … ad veram religionem sacrilegam viam quaerere … (31.3): via
salubrior …; see also 4 (7.12): via sapientiae; 35 (45.25): … nulla certa ad sapientiam salutemque
animis via …; vera rel. 1.1; 3.3: 3.5 (CCL 32:187.1; 188.4; 191.89). In vera rel. occurrences are
concentrated on the opening passage.
59 Plotinus’ Enn. 1.6 comes to mind, which has also been considered as a work that
influenced vera rel.; see V.H. Drecoll, Die Entstehung der Gnadenlehre Augustins (Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 1999) 88–89; Lössl, Augustinus (n. 1) 32.
60 Augustine, c. Acad. 2.3.8 (CCL 29:22.43–45): … si quid superstitionis in animum revolutum
est, eicietur profecto, vel cum tibi aliquam inter nos disputationem de religione misero …—‘If
any form of superstition should have returned to your mind, it will be quickly removed as
soon as I will have sent you a disputation between you and me concerning religion …’. Note
150 josef lössl
no doubt that De vera religione, completed early in 391 at the latest,61 is this
work.62 The use of the word religio in a Christian work of this kind, let alone
in the title of such a work, is rare, if not unique. Although already Tertul-
lian and Minucius Felix used the juncture vera religio in the body of their
works,63 only Lactantius used it in a title, namely that of book 4 of his Divinae
institutiones.64 All these authors, including Augustine, were influenced by
Cicero, who in De natura deorum distinguished between religio and super-
stitio, proper (and in this sense ‘true’) worship of the gods, and excessive or
irrational religious belief.65 But it is not least because of this generic mean-
ing of the word in the Classical, pagan, tradition that in Christian literature
words like fides or doctrina are far more common.66 Roughly the same is true
already here the opposition of superstitio and religio, which is influenced in particular by
Cicero (see below n. 65), though with one exception: While Cicero (nat. deor. 2.28.72) traces
the etymology of religio to the verb relegere (‘to gather’), Augustine, following Vergil (Aen.
8.349) and Lactantius (4.28), traces it to religare (‘to bind’); see vera rel. 55.111/113 (CCL 32:259):
ad unum deum tendentes et ei uni religantes animas nostras, unde religio dicta creditur … religet
ergo nos religio uni omnipotenti deo …; compare also retr. 1.13.9 (CCL 57:40–41).
61 There are indications that Augustine began writing vera rel. in 387, very shortly after
making that statement in c. Acad., but various events interrupted his work, his baptism at
Easter 387, the death of his mother later that year, a forced stay in Rome due to a sea blockade
in 388, and his return to Africa in 389.
62 Augustine, vera rel. 7.12 (CCL 32:195): … cum ante paucos annos promiserim tibi scribere
… quid de vera religione sentirem, tempus nunc esse arbitratus sum … Ep. 15 (CSEL 34/1:35–36)
records the delivery of the work to Romanianus. In ep. 27.4 (99) to Paulinus of Nola Augustine
still refers to it as De religione. See above n. 45.
63 Tertullian, Apol. 24.2; 35.1; Minucius Felix, Oct. 1.5. As Tobias Georges points out, Ter-
tullian already took advantage of the wide range of meanings of religio (e. g. 16.3: Iudaica
religio; 24.1: Romana religio; 16.14: nostra religio; 24.2: laesa religio … vera religio); T. Georges,
Tertullian: Apologeticum (Freiburg i. Br.: Herder, 2011) 404 n. 927.
64 Lactantius, Inst. 4: De vera sapientia et religione.
65 See in particular Cicero, nat. deor. 1.42.117, where one of the interlocutors bemoans that
atheists and agnostics harmed not only superstition, but also religion: Horum enim sententiae
omnium non modo superstitionem tollunt, in qua inest timor inanis deorum, sed etiam reli-
gionem, quae deorum cultu pio continetur; and ibid. 2.28.71, which in a similar vein argues that
although superstition must be avoided, proper (traditional) religion (within reason) must be
practised. This was not only advised by the philosophers but also by the ancestors: Quos deos
et venerari et colere debemus, cultus autem deorum est optumus idemque castissimus atque
sanctissimus plenissimusque pietatis, ut eos semper pura integra incorrupta et mente et voce
veneremur. non enim philosophi solum verum etiam maiores nostri superstitionem a religione
separaverunt.
66 See e. g. in vera rel. 3.3 (CCL 32:190.41): salubris fides; 4.6 (192.19): nostra fides; 6.11 (195.39):
fides qua in catholica ecclesia; 9.17 (198.23): fides catholica; 5.8 (193.3): ii quorum doctrinam non
approbamus; 6.10 (194.5): haereticis ad probationem doctrinae suae; 17.33 (207.1): totius doctri-
nae modus. See also the discussion in E. Feil, Religio. Die Geschichte eines neuzeitlichen Grund-
begriffs vom Frühchristentum bis zur Reformation (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1986) 68.
augustine on the true religion 151
67 For example a passage in the Historia Monachorum in Aegypto 10.30–35 (191–225; ed.
Festugière), transl. Rufinus, Historia Monachorum 9 (PL 21:426C–427B), which is exactly con-
temporaneous with vera rel., refers to Manichaeism by implication as vera fides (in a context
in which a contest was to reveal the ‘true faith’). ET Gardner and Lieu, Manichaean Texts
(n. 27) 121. CMC 64.10 refers to Mani’s ‘faith companions’ (οἰκείοι τῆς πίστεως), CMC 134.4/7
recounts that the converted princes were ‘filled with faith’ (οἱ μεγιστᾶνες τῇ πίστει ἐπληρώθη-
σαν). From his own life Mani tells CMC 11.1–4: εἰσήλασα εἰς τὸ δόγμα [religion, faith {commu-
nity?}] τῶν βαπτίστων; Koenen and Römer, Der Kölner Mani-Kodex (n. 5) 44, 96 and 6; Gardner
and Lieu, Manichaean Texts (n. 27) 49.
68 Gardner and Lieu, Manichaean Texts (n. 27) 1. Accordingly, the rhetoric of switching
quaestio est.
70 This is the focus of the article by J. Speigl, ‘Zur apologetischen und antihäretischen
the Manichaeans. For him religio was always more than just fides. He always
strove for an integration of theology and practice. Although he rejected
Faustus’ generic use of the word,71 his own use of it in vera rel. is not alto-
gether dissimilar. At the end of the day Faustus too was not a relativist, but
rather defended Manichaeism as the true religion rejecting orthodox Chris-
tianity and Judaism as schisms, split-offs, from Paganism.72
In Contra Academicos, superstitio clearly refers to Manichaeism, though
in other early works it could also mean a broader ‘juvenile’ attitude to
religion, which led Augustine to embrace a religion such as Manichaeism.73
In vera rel. he goes even further in that direction. Although he very much
identifies the Christian faith with vera religio, he expresses this in terms
that also allows for a broader understanding of religiosity, one that is aware
of the variety and plurality of religious experiences and expressions and
of the possibility and reality of change in religious attitudes.74 With this
he comes fairly close to the way Faustus used the term, almost already
in its modern meaning, when he spoke of Jews, Christians and Pagans
(gentes) as the three world religions.75 Therefore, by using the word religio
Augustine picks up an existing Manichaean concept and uses it with a
view to persuade Manichaeans such as Romanianus to convert to orthodox
Christianity. Moreover, at the same time, by doing so he produces as a result
a piece of theological writing which impresses as rather modern in the way
it thinks about religion and faith.
4. Conclusion
This paper could only but scratch the surface in its attempt to point to
some of the Manichaean reflections which are clearly visible in vera rel. It
71 Faustus in Augustine, c. Faust. 31.2 (CSEL 25/1:757.18–19): Tres in mundo religiones sint,
quae mentis purgationem pariter in castimoniis et abstinentia ritu quamvis diversissimo repo-
nunt, dico autem Iudaeos et Christianos et Gentes.
72 Faustus in Augustine, c. Faust. 20.4 (CSEL 25/1:537–538); see also above n. 51.
73 See e.g. beata vita 1.4 (CCL 29:66–67): superstitio puerilis.
74 The sentence vera rel. 10.19 (CCL 32:200): ea est nostris temporibus christiana religio,
quam cognoscere ac sequi securissima et certissima salus est, is influenced precisely by this
new concept: Christianity as the new religion our our time. Not surprisingly, this was one of
the statements which Augustine felt had to be corrected in retr. 1.13.3 (CCL 57:37.23–34): … res
ipsa quae nunc christiana religio nuncupatur, erat et apud antiquos nec defuit ab initio generis
humani … This latter position is the more traditional one in early Christianity, which can also
be found among the apologists from the second century onwards.
75 See above n. 51.
augustine on the true religion 153
76 Other concepts such as vita and veritas were also briefly touched upon.
77 Vera rel. 30.54 (CCL 32:222); see above n. 39.
78 Vera rel. 10.18 (CCL 32:199); and compare ibid. 33.62 (227–228).
79 Vera rel. 16.32 (CCL 32:207).
80 Vera rel. 20.40 (CCL 32:211–212).
81 For a brief summary of all these themes see Lössl, Augustinus (n. 1) 57–59.
GOD, MEMORY AND BEAUTY:
A ‘MANICHAEAN’ ANALYSIS OF AUGUSTINE’S CONFESSIONS,
BOOK 10,1–38
1 Erich Feldmann, Der Einfluss des Hortensius und des Manichäismus auf das Denken des
jungen Augustinus von 373, vol. I–II, Dissertation Münster 1975 (typescript).
2 Erich Feldmann, ‘Confessiones’, Augustinus-Lexikon, Vol. 1, Basel: Schwabe 1994, 1134–
1193.
3 E.g. Pierre Courcelle, Recherches sur les Confessions de saint Augustin, Paris: De Boccard
1968, 235–238. Here I may also mention the influence of my ‘Doktorvater’ Gilles Quispel who,
as an expert in Gnostic and Manichaean studies, in private conversation often suggested
possible Manichaean influences upon Augustine, as a rule with reference to studies of Alfred
Adam, Prosper Alfaric and Ernesto Buonaiuti. One may compare the scattered remarks in his
Gnostic Studies, I–II, Istanbul: Nederlands Historisch-Archeologisch Instituut 1974–1975 and
in Gnostica, Judaica, Catholica. Collected Essays of Gilles Quispel, Leiden-Boston: Brill 2008.
4 Johannes van Oort, ‘Augustine’s Criticism of Manichaeism: The Case of Confessions
III,6,10 and Its Implications’, in: Pieter W. van der Horst (ed.), Aspects of Religious Contact and
Conflict in the Ancient World (Utrechtse Theologische Reeks), Utrecht: Faculty of Theology,
University of Utrecht 1995, 57–68.
156 johannes van oort
Confessiones’.5 It was in the same year (1993) that, at the University of Stel-
lenbosch, I became acquainted with Annemaré Kotzé who was preparing
a dissertation on Augustine’s Confessions. I suggested some of my ideas on
the matter, provided her with some key articles on Manichaeism, and all
this became fruitful in her research. I myself further discussed the subject
in a 2000 Nijmegen inaugural lecture on Augustine’s Confessions.6 Annemaré
Kotzé incorporated the research theme into her 2003 dissertation at Stellen-
bosch University7 and, moreover, in a number of articles. First in her finely
tuned 2001 study ‘Reading Psalm 4 to the Manichaeans’ (with focus on Conf.
IX,4,8–11)8 and after that in research articles such as ‘The “Anti-Manichaean”
Passage in Confessions 3 and its “Manichaean Audience”’ (2008)9 and ‘Pro-
treptic, Paraenetic and Augustine’s Confessions’ (2011).10 As may be inferred
from these titles, Dr Kotzé approaches the subject from a number of textual
points of view. Consequently, the emphasis of her research is on the inter-
nal evidence of Augustine’s text11—not so much on the analysis of religio-
historical facts or Manichaean texts proper. Again and again it is highly
interesting to see the results of such a linguistic approach finely corroborat-
ing the analysis of Augustine’s literary corpus with the help of data gleaned
from Manichaean texts. I myself still seek to study the subject this way, i.e.
from a historical and, in particular, religio-historical point of view,12 trying
in Luigi Cirillo & Alois Van Tongerloo (eds.), Atti del Terzo Congresso Internazionale di Studi
‘Manicheismo e Oriente Cristiano Antico’, Arcavacata di Rende–Amantea, 31 agosto–5 settembre
1993, Turnhout–Leuven 1997: Brepols Publishers, 235–248.
6 Published as: Johannes van Oort, Augustinus’ Confessiones. Gnostische en christelijke
van den Berg a.o. (eds.), In Search of Truth: Augustine, Manichaeism and Other Gnosticism.
Studies for Johannes van Oort at Sixty, Leiden-Boston: Brill 2011, 3–23.
11 See e.g. the explicit remark in ‘Reading Psalm 4 to the Manichaeans’, 120–121: ‘… can
we assume that the Manicheans would read the Confessions? Courcelle [i.e., P. Courcelle,
Recherches sur les Confessions de saint Augustin, Paris 1968, 236–237] seems to believe that
they did and that Secundinus, a prominent Manichean auditor, alludes to the Confèssions
in a letter to Augustine. I argue however, that the strongest evidence for this possibility is
internal evidence’ (italics JvO).
12 As I did already in my 1986 Utrecht dissertation on Augustine’s City of God, the English
version of which was published as Jerusalem and Babylon. A Study into Augustine’s City of God
god, memory and beauty 157
2. Analysis of conf. 10
In the past decades, the main focus was on the analysis of Manichaean
elements in Augustine’s Confessions 3 and 9. More or less general remarks
have been made on Books 11–13 as well, and apart from some other passages,
the same goes for parts of Books 1, 2, 4 and 5.13 Book 10 of the Confessions,
however, being the longest one of the whole work (and to a certain extent
still its compositional riddle),14 has been passed over in silence. I will not
enter the issue of Augustine’s compositional technique here, but only (and
‘simply’) remark that Books 1–9 focus on Augustine’s past and 11–13 deal with
the creation account of Genesis 1. Between these two distinct parts we find
Book 10, the long discourse on Augustine’s present dispositions.15
and the Sources of his Doctrine of the Two Cities, Leiden-New York-København-Köln: E.J. Brill
1991 (repr. Leiden-Boston: Brill 2013). See e.g. Jerusalem and Babylon, 16.
13 See, apart from James O’Donnell’s sparse though often pertinent remarks (James J.
O’Donnell, Confessions, II, Commentary on Books 1–7, Oxford: Clarendon Press 1992 and
idem, Confessions, III, Commentary on Books 8–13; Indexes, Oxford: Clarendon Press 1992),
e.g. André Mandouze, ‘Le Livre V des Confessions de saint Augustin’, in: Le Confessioni di
Agostino d’Ippona, Libri III–V, Palermo: Edizioni Augustinus 1974, 39–55; Leo C. Ferrari, ‘The
Pear-Theft in Augustine’s “Confessions”’, REA 16 (1970) 233–242; and now in particular Jason
David BeDuhn, Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma, I: Conversion and Apostasy, 373–388 C.E.,
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press 2010, passim for Books 1, 2 and 4.
14 The question of the literary unity of conf. is a topic since, in particular, the ground-
breaking study of E. Williger, ‘Der Aufbau der Konfessiones Augustins’, ZNW 28 (1929) 325–
332, who opined that Augustine first wrote Books 1–9 and 11–13 and later added Book 10. He
was supported by, for instance, Courcelle (Recherches, 25), but disputed by, among others,
G.N. Knauer, Psalmenzitate in Augustins Konfessionen, Göttingen: VandenHoeck & Ruprecht
1955.
15 Cf. BA 14, 141: ‘Les dispositions actuelles d’Augustin’.
158 johannes van oort
Augustine subsequently deals with the quest for the happy life and for God
(10,29–40), discusses the temptations of human life (10,41–64), and con-
cludes the book by reflecting on his inquiry (10,65–66). His final meditation
is on man’s reconciliation with God (10,67–70).
17 Kotze, ‘Confessions 3’, 188. For the Roman Manichaean Secundinus’ reading of (parts
of) the conf., see Johannes van Oort, ‘Secundini Manichaei Epistula: Roman Manichaean
“Biblical” Argument in the Age of Augustine’, in: idem a.o. (eds.), Augustine and Manichaeism
in the Latin West, Leiden-Boston: Brill 2001 (repr. 2012), 163. Cf. Courcelle, Recherches, 236–238.
18 Conf. 9,9; cf. 8,22.
19 See e.g. Mani’s Gospel as quoted in the Cologne Mani Codex (= CMC) p. 68ff.
20 C.R.C. Allberry (ed. and transl.), A Manichaean Psalm-Book, Part II (Manichaean Manu-
scripts in the Chester Beatty Collection, Vol. II), Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer 1938, p. 6, l. 23.
21 Manichaean Psalm-Book 85,25.
22 In Manichaeism, Christ is the central redeeming figure or principle specified by differ-
ent names.
23 Psalm-Book 105,27–28: ‘thy knowledge / and thy Truth and thy Wisdom illumine the
soul’.
24 I.e., also well known to Manichaeans. See e.g. Psalm-Book 121,9. Cf. Alexander Böhlig,
Die Bibel bei den Manichäern und verwandte Studien, Leiden-Boston: Brill 2012, 198–199 and
passim.
25 E.g. Psalm-Book 159,1 and 3: ‘The Bride is the Church (ἐκκλησία), the Bridegroom is […].
most important impetus of Augustine’s own mysticism came from his Manichaean past; cf.
‘Augustin und der Manichäismus’, ZRGG 46 (1994) 126–142, esp. 142.
160 johannes van oort
27 Cf. conf. 11,10: ‘In hoc principio, Deus, fecisti caelum et terram in verbo tuo, in filio tuo,
Cambridge: University Press 1927, 272: ‘The adverb [sc. sanum] is noted as an ‘addendum
lexicis latinis’ in Archiv für Lat. Lexicog. 1898, p. 52’.
30 E.g. conf. 9,8; 13,45; c. Faust. 12,6.
31 See e.g. Titus of Bostra, Adv. Man. (Gr.) I,10 (ed. De Lagarde 5, 29); Epiphanius, Pan. 66,1 ff.
(ed. K. Holl [–J. Dummer], GCS 37, 14ff.). Cf. e.g. Eusebius, HE 7,31 (ed. E. Schwartz, GCS 9,2,
716).
32 Such was already the case with Mani. According to the CMC, his own Gospel is ‘the
Gospel of his most holy hope (ἐλπίς)’ (CMC p. 66); he said in this Gospel that he ‘proclaimed
hope (ἐλπίς)’ (CMC 67), and (in all probability also in the Gospel) it is stated that Mani’s
Syzygos brought to him ‘the noblest hope (ἐλπίς)’ (CMC 69). In Coptic Manichaica such as
the Psalm-Book and the Kephalaia, passages on Mani and Manichaeism as ‘the (holy) hope
(ἐλπίς)’ abound.
33 Henry Chadwick, in his rightly acclaimed Saint Augustine, Confessions. Translated with
an Introduction and Notes, Oxford: Oxford University Press 1991, 179, renders: ‘As to the other
pleasures of life, regret at their loss should be in inverse proportion to the extent to which
one weeps for losing them. The less we weep for them, the more we ought to be weeping’.
But this rendering seems to make the passage even more enigmatic.
god, memory and beauty 161
34 Psalm-Book 159,21 ff.: ‘Put in me a holy heart, my God: let an upright / Spirit be new
within me. / The holy heart is Christ: if he rises in us, / we also shall rise in him. /Christ has
risen, the dead shall rise with him. If we believe / in him, we shall pass beyond death and
come to life.’
35 On the phenomenon see esp. N.A. Pedersen, Studies in the Sermon on the Great War:
Investigations of a Manichaean-Coptic Text from the Fourth Century, Aarhus: Aarhus Univer-
sity Press 1994, 113–115 and 200–222.
36 Psalm-Book 47,1.
37 Psalm-Book 162,23–24: ‘O Father, o Mind of Light, come and wear me until I have recited
the woe [i.e., the Weeping] of the Son of Man’. We find the same in Psalm-Book 178,1–2.
38 Psalm-Book 44,27–28.
39 CMC 66.
40 CMC 64.
41 See also CMC 16; 29; 41 etc.
42 E.g. Psalm-Book 3,12.20; 6,5.23; 9,5.9 etc.; [H.J. Polotsky & A. Böhlig, ed. and transl.],
Kephalaia, Band I, 1. Hälfte (Lieferung 1–10), Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer Verlag 1940, p. 5,31.32;
etc.
43 Conf. 3,10: ‘et dicebant: veritas et veritas, et multum eam dicebant mihi …’; see further
its implementation. In this way, he ‘comes to the light’. This turn of phrase
seems to be an evident (antithetical) allusion to the religion preached by
Mani, ‘the Apostle of Light’.44
The last sentence of the opening passage restates Augustine’s intention
to do the truth (a) in confession in his heart coram Deo, and (b) in his
writing before many witnesses. Truth (veritatem, eam, eam) and knowledge
(cognoscam, cognitor, cognoscam, cognitus) are keywords in the passage,
and both concepts are clearly reminiscent of the story of Augustine’s first
acquaintance with Manichaeism in conf. 3,10.45 In Manichaeism truth and
knowledge are closely related, for the Elect acquire knowledge of eternal
truth. It seems quite likely that Augustine, where he starts a new section
of his writing,46 uses these words with a specific purpose in mind. They are
pointers to direct the reader’s mind towards the writer’s intention. Augus-
tine is a converted person, known by God (sicut ego et cognitus sum), and
after his (sudden) conversion comes the transformation of the inner self.47
The essence of this transformation is indicated as ‘coming to the light’ and,
in the following chapters of Book 10, initiated by self-analysis. As seems to
be the case in this programmatic introductory paragraph, the terms used in
the analysis of the inner self may invoke elements of his Manichaean past.
2.3. Beginning the Search for God in Memory (conf. 10.7 ff.)
Explicit terms that might recall Manichaean matters are sparse in the imme-
diately following paragraphs. Although words like abyss (abyssus, 10,2), hid-
den (occultus, 10,2) or groaning (gemitus, 10,2) are well known from Mani-
chaean texts,48 here there seems to be no reason for ascribing a Manichaean
meaning to them. The same may go for Christ addressed as ‘physician of
44 For Mani as the Apostle of Light, see e.g. Psalm-Book 139,48. Although, as far as I can
see, only in later tradition Manichaeism itself is called ‘the Religion of Light’, ‘coming to the
light’ seems to be a term for joining Mani’s church, while the opposite position of ‘leaving
the light’ is described as ‘the passage of light’ through someone. See Augustine, util. cred. 3:
‘lumen per illum transitum fecit’.
45 Cf. the analysis in ‘Manichaeism and Anti-Manichaeism in Augustine’s Confessiones’
(n. 5).
46 After he concluded Books I–IX, in which so many sections are specifically aimed at a
Manichaean audience; or even after completing Books I–IX and also XI–XIII in which the
Manichaean views are a specific target of polemic.
47 Perhaps one may say, in theological terms, that the iustificatio is followed by the
sanctificatio.
48 See e.g. Psalm-Book 2,4.11.15;3,24;10,9 etc. for abyss; idem 1,4; 7,16; 12,13 etc. for hidden;
my most intimate self’ (medice meus intime, 10,3), although the designation
of Christ as physician is typical of both Augustine49 and the Manichaeans.50
The immediate context, however, does not provide an indication to label the
expression as ‘Manichaean’.51 There is, on the other hand, an evident hint
at his former coreligionists when Augustine, in his long prayer, says to God
‘that You cannot be in any way subjected to violence’ (10,7).52 We often find
this notion in the Confessions, as part of Augustine’s standard repertoire of
anti-Manichaean polemic.53
The following sections deserve specific attention. After having stated
in 10,7 that he, a human person, does not fully know himself, Augustine
continues in 10,8 by first expounding that the love of God, whose nature is
superior to all things, is acquired by the knowledge of the senses. The text of
10,8 runs:
Non dubia, sed certa conscientia, domine, amo te. percussisti cor meum verbo
tuo, et amavi te. sed et caelum et terra et omnia, quae in eis sunt, ecce undique
mihi dicunt, ut te amem, nec cessant dicere omnibus, ut sint inexcusabiles.
altius autem tu misereberis, cui misertus eris, et misericordiam praestabis,
cui misericors fueris: alioquin caelum et terra surdis loquuntur laudes tuas.
quid autem amo, cum te amo? non speciem corporis nec decus temporis, non
candorem lucis ecce istum amicum oculis, non dulces melodias cantilenarum
omnimodarum, non florum et ungentorum et aromatum sua violentiam, non
manna et mella, non membra acceptabilia carnis amplexibus: non haec amo,
cum amo deum meum. et tamen amo quandam lucem et quandam vocem
et quendam odorem et quendam cibum et quendam amplexum, cum amo
deum meum, lucem, vocem, odorem, cibum, amplexum interioris hominis
mei, ubi fulget animae meae, quod non capit locus, et ubi sonat, quod non
49 See e.g. R. Arbesmann, ‘Christ the medicus humilis in St. Augustine’, Augustinus Mag-
ister, II, Paris: Études Augustiniennes 1954, 623–629; idem, ‘The Concept of Christus medicus
in St. Augustine’, Traditio 10 (1954) 1–28; P.C.J. Eijkenboom, Het Christus-medicusmotief in de
preken van Sint Augustinus, Assen: Van Gorcum 1960.
50 See e.g. V. Arnold-Döben, Die Bildersprache des Manichäismus, Köln: In Kommission
bei E.J. Brill 1978, 98ff.; A. Böhlig, Die Gnosis, III, Der Manichäismus, Zürich & München:
Artemis Verlag 1980, 247, 249, 255ff. For Mani himself as physician, see e.g. L.J.R. Ort, Mani: A
Religio-historical Description of his Personality, Leiden: E.J. Brill 1967, 95–101; W.B. Oerter, ‘Mani
als Arzt? Zur Deutung eines manichäischen Bildes’, in: V. Vavrínek (ed.), From Late Antiquity
to Early Byzantium, Praha: Academia 1985, 219–223 (220–221).
51 Cf. conf. 10,39: ‘medicus es, aeger sum’. A Manichaean context, however, may be as-
sumed for conf. 2,15 (non me derideat ab eo medico aegrum sanari), as perhaps also for 4,5
(… sed non ut medicus. nam illius morbi tu sanator, qui resistis superbis, humilibus autem das
gratiam).
52 Conf. 10,7: ‘te novi nullo modo posse violari’.
53 E.g. conf. 7,3; cf. conf. 7,6 and many other passages in which God’s ‘harmlessness’
rapit tempus, et ubi olet, quod non spargit flatus, et ubi sapit, quod non minuit
edacitas, et ubi haeret, quod non divellit satietas. hoc est quod amo, cum
deum meum amo.
In a quite literal translation:
Not with uncertain, but with assured consciousness do I love you, Lord. You
pierced my heart with your word, and I loved you. But also the heaven and
earth and everything in them, behold, on all sides they tell me to love you.
Nor do they cease to speak to all, ‘so that they are without excuse’ (Rom. 1:20).
But more deeply you will have mercy on whom you will have mercy and will
show pity on whom you will have pity (Rom. 9:15). Otherwise heaven and
earth do utter your praises to deaf ears. But what do I love, when I love you?
Not corporeal beauty, nor temporal splendour, nor the brightness of the light
which, behold, is so pleasant to these (earthly) eyes, nor the sweet melodies of
all kinds of songs, nor the fragrant smell of flowers, and ointments, and herbs,
nor manna and honey, nor limbs acceptable to the embraces of the flesh. It
is not these I love when I love my God. And yet I love some sort of light, and
sound, and fragrance, and food, and embracement when I love my God—the
light, sound, fragrance, food, and embracement of my inner man. It is there
that shines unto my soul what space can not contain, it is there that sounds
what time snatches not away, it is there that smells what no breeze disperses,
it is there that is tasted what no eating diminishes, and it is there that clings
what no satiety can part. This is what I love, when I love my God.
One may say that the famous dictum ‘You pierced (percussisti) my heart
with your word and I loved you’ is reminiscent of the famous Manichaean
concept of Call and Answer (or Hearing). In Manichaeism the human soul
is considered to answer to the call from the heavenly world and, in this
way, man becomes a gnostic. In many Manichaean texts Call and Answer
are even hypostasized as heavenly entities.54 Moreover, in the Manichaean
Psalm-Book it is said that ‘Jesus is … in the heart of his Faithful (πιστός)’55
and that ‘the word of God’ (i.e., Jesus) ‘dwells (…) in heart of the Continent
(ἐγκρατής)’.56 Besides, it runs in the Psalm-Book: ‘Since I knew thee, my Spirit,
I have loved thee’.57 All this seems to indicate a Manichaean tradition in
the background of Augustine’s famous dictum; or at least some echo of
Manichaean phraseology. It is difficult to believe that Christ is depicted
as some sort of heavenly Cupid,58 and that Augustine’s formulation here is
54 E.g. Psalm-Book 133,29; 138,7–8.17–18; 139,28; 199,9; Keph. p. 43,3; 182,1 ff.
55 Psalm-Book 161,7–8.
56 Psalm-Book 151,15–19.
57 Psalm-Book 169,21.
58 Chadwick, Augustine, Confessions (n. 33), 156 and 183. Chadwick, Confessions, 156 n. 2
states: ‘The symbol of Christ as heavenly Eros was familiar from the Latin version of Origen’s
god, memory and beauty 165
meant only to express the same sense as conf. 9,3: ‘You pierced (sagittaveras)
my heart with the arrow of your love’.59 The last-mentioned dictum became
the source of the well-known emblem of Augustine, a burning heart pierced
with an arrow.
The terms used to describe the object of Augustine’s love, however, are
much more conspicuous in our context. ‘But what do I love, when I love you?
Not corporeal beauty, nor temporal splendour, nor the brightness of the light
which, behold, is so pleasant to these (earthly) eyes, nor the sweet melodies
of all kinds of songs, nor the fragrant smell of flowers, and ointments, and
herbs, nor manna and honey, nor limbs acceptable to the embraces of the
flesh. It is not these I love when I love my God’. God is described in terms
which are unmistakably reminiscent of Manichaean terms, concepts, and
religious practices. It is as if Augustine brings to mind to both himself and
his readers the sensory experiences of the Manichaean religious services.
According to Manichaean belief, God is Light substance and this Light is
dispersed throughout the world, in particular in certain foods. Such foods
(fruits like melons, figs, olives, and also cucumbers) are beautiful and splen-
did and bright because of their light substance.60 During the sacred meals of
the Manichaean Elect (which meals are rightly termed ‘eucharist’61) sweet
melodies of all kinds of songs resound.62 There is evidence that flowers,
ointments, and herbs were part of these sacred meals,63 and also manna
and honey were well known.64 Furthermore, in Manichaeism not only the
godly light substance set free through the sacred meal is adored because of
its beauty, splendour, brightness and so on, but God and the godly world
are described in the same terms. The ‘Song of the Lovers’ (amatorium can-
ticum) quoted by Augustine in his Reply to Faustus communicates that the
commentary on the Song of Songs. Augustine’s African critic, Arnobius the younger, could
write of “Christ our Cupid”.’ As far as I can see, Chadwick is not followed in this opinion.
59 Conf. 9,3: ‘Sagittaveras tu corde nostrum caritate tua …’.
60 See e.g. mor. 2,43.
61 Cf. Jason D. BeDuhn, ‘Eucharist or Yasna? Antecedents of Manichaean food ritual’, in
R.E. Emmerick a.o. (eds.), Studia Manichaica IV: Internationaler Kongreß zum Manichäismus,
Berlin, 14.–18. Juli 1997, Berlin: Akademie Verlag 2000, 14–36.
62 For music, see for instance a miniature from Kocho, ruin K (MIK III 6368) in Zsuzsanna
Gulácsi, Manichaean Art in Berlin Collections, Turnhout: Brepols 2001, 92–95, which ‘Hymno-
dy Scene’ might already depict music in a liturgical setting, either an Alms Service Scene or
even a Bema Scene. See further e.g. the ‘Psalms of the Bema’ in Manichaean Psalm-Book, 1–47.
63 E.g. mor. 2, 39.
64 The Hebrew word manna occurs in e.g. Psalm-Book 136,38 and 139,58. Curiously, it is
also mentioned in CMC 107 and in c. Faust. 19,22. For honey, see e.g. Psalm-Book 158,27 and
184,13.
166 johannes van oort
65 C. Faust. 15,5–6: ‘annon recordaris amatorium canticum tuum, ubi describis maximum
‘Dei membra uexat, qui terram sulco discindit; Dei membra uexat, qui herbam de terra vellit;
Dei membra vexat qui pomum carpit de arbore (…). Membra iniquiunt, illa Dei quae capta
sunt in illo praelio, mixta sunt universo mundo et sunt in arboribus, in herbis, in pomis, in
fructibus (…). Panem mendicanti non porrigit; quaeris quare? Ne vitam quae est in pane,
quam dicunt membrum Dei, substantiam divinam, mendicus ille accipiat, et liget eam in
carne.’ See in the Coptic sources e.g. Psalm-Book 127,29–31: ‘… because of the bond which is
upon thy [i.e. the Father’s] members (μέλος)’ and 128, 2: ‘thy members (μέλος)’.
67 E.g. c. Faust. 6,4: ‘… ut ipsa dei membra esse credatis, a carnis carcere dimittantur …’;
6,6: ‘Cur autem, si carnibus vesci non vultis, non ipsa animalia deo vestro oblata mactatis,
ut ipsa dei membra esse credatis, a carnis carcere dimittantur’. Cf. the quote from En. in Ps.
140,12 above.
god, memory and beauty 167
training. Is this correct? Five human senses of sight, hearing, touch, taste,
and smell have been distinguished in Greek and Roman philosophy from
ancient times onwards and, for Augustine’s own time, one may indeed speak
of ‘a rhetorical device’.68 But is, for instance, a classical writer such as Cicero
his real source? It should be noted that the concept of five senses was well
known in Manichaean circles69 and, in all likelihood, even to Mani himself.70
Manichaean religious practice, rooted in the concept of God as physical
Light substance, was finely attuned to the sensory. It seems quite likely that
in his talking about God, i.e. in his very theo-logy, Augustine is influenced by
Manichaean manners of speaking.
This may already be observed in the next sentences. Although Augus-
tine rejects the idea that direct knowledge of God can be attained via the
physical senses, he retains the scheme of the five senses as a way to acquire
knowledge of God. Instead of the physical senses, he speaks of their spiritual
counterparts: God is a certain light, voice, odour, food and embrace sensed
by the inner person. The scheme of the five senses (sight, hearing, smell,
taste, touch) in order to know God is retained, but in a non-material way.
Both the material and, as its counterpart, the explicitly non-material man-
ner of speaking seems to be inspired by Manichaean thinking. It is aimed at
Manichaean readers in particular.
There is another interesting and even essential aspect. As a rule Mani-
chaeism is considered as representing only a material world view, i.e. only
believing in physical substances. Interesting passages in the Kephalaia
demonstrate this view to be one-sided.71 First, there is a chapter in the
Kephalaia in which Mani is said to have spoken of the (internal) intellec-
tual qualities of consideration, counsel, insight, thought and mind through
which the soul ascends to the Father and the aeons of glory.72 Such a text
clearly demonstrates the idea of an internal and mental process of salvation
in Manichaeism. Besides, many Kephalaia speak of the work of the Light
Mind—a Manichaean concept close (and probably even identical) to the
Augustine’s c. Iul. op. imp. III,175: ‘… sive per visum, sive per tactum, sive per auditum, sive
per odoratum, sive per gustum …’.
71 The Kephalaia are quoted according to page numbers and lines in Polotsky & Böhlig,
Kephalaia (n. 42). English translation: Iain Gardner, The Kephalaia of the Teacher. The edited
Coptic Manichaean Texts in Translation with Commentary (NHMS XXXVII), Leiden-New York-
Köln: E.J. Brill 1995.
72 Keph. Ch. 2, p. 16,32–23,13; cf. Gardner, Kephalaia, 22–26.
168 johannes van oort
73 See e.g. Keph. p. 143,29.32; 189,30 and 190,2.3.6 where the Light Mind is explicitly called
‘Holy Spirit’.
74 Keph. p. 89,18–102,12; cf. Gardner, 93–105.
75 Cf. Paul and Pauline theology in e.g. Rom 6–7; Eph 4,22–23; cf. 2 Cor 4,16; Col. 3,9.
76 Keph. p. 100,7–10 in Gardner’s translation (Gardner, 103–104): ‘He [i.e. the Light Mind]
bestows a great spirit upon the elect one. Indeed, now may you find him, as he stands on the
earth, rising up in his heart and ascending to the Father, the God of truth’ (italics mine). Cf. for
this process of transformation and renewing by the Light Nous of the old man into the new
man e.g. Keph. p. 172,3–4; 215,1–5; etc.
77 Keph. 21, p. 64,13–65,13; Gardner, 67–68. Unfortunately the text is rather defective.
78 See e.g. Augustine’s speaking of the ‘fores carnis meae’ in conf. 10,9 and the ‘doors’ [of
the fleshly body] in Keph. 141,15–16 etc.. The opinion expressed in 10,10 that those who are of
sound mind (quibus integer sensus est) hear truth speaking: ‘Your God is not earth or heaven
or any physical body’ (veritas dicit enim mihi: non est deus tuus terra et caelum neque omne
corpus) seems to be directed against Manichaean thinking as well.
god, memory and beauty 169
(e.g. 15: ‘we cannot exclude the possibility of an Augustinian amalgam of Platonic, Peripatetic
and Stoic views, with a strong Ciceronian influence’) and esp. 131 n. 5 (with reference to
Cicero) for memory. Cf. O’Donnell, ‘Memoria’, 1250.
81 E.g. O’Daly, Philosophy, 199–201; cf. O’Donnell, ‘Memoria’, 1254.
82 E.g. O’Daly, Philosophy, 59 f.; 145; cf. O’Donnell, ‘Memoria’, 1254.
83 Conf. 4,28.
84 G. Christopher Stead, ‘Aristoteles’, in Augustinus-Lexikon, I, Basel: Schwabe 1986–1994,
445–448.
85 Gardner, Kephalaia, 146–148. Italics, bold, Greek key terms in round brackets and words
in square brackets are mine; … indicate the lacunae in the manuscript. Cf. the original edition
in Polotsky & Böhlig, Kephalaia, 138–140.
170 johannes van oort
was apportioned house by house.86 For everything that his perceptions (αἰ-
σθητήρια) and elements (στοιχεῖα) will receive externally there are internal
storehouses (ταμιεῖα) and repositories (ἀποθήκη) and cavities (σπήλαιον); and
what is received in to them is stored in them. Whenever they will be ques-
tioned about what is deposited in their internal storehouses (ταμιεῖα), they
bring out what they have received within and give it to the questioner (ἀπαι-
τητής) who requested it of them.
138,30 In this way his faculty (Ἐνθύμησις)87 … outer limbs (μέλος) to look at …
every type within … also the faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of the eyes has houses and
cavities (σπήλαιον) and repositories (ἀποθήκη) and stores within, so that every
image it might see, whether good or evil, whether loveable or detestable or
lustful (–ἐπιθυμία), it can receive into its storehouses (ταμιεῖα) and reposito-
ries (ἀποθήκη). Also, when the faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of the eyes is pleased to
send out the image that it saw and took in, it can go in to its storehouses (τα-
μιεῖα) at the time and think and seek … and it brings it out and gives it to the
questioner (ἀπαιτητής) who requested it and the one who wanted it. Whether
it be something from lust (ἐπιθυμία) … or an image of love or … … something
hateful. And thus shall that faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) [of the eyes] produce and do
what it does in each category.
139,15 The faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of the ears has its own storehouses (ταμιεῖα)
also. Every sound it might receive, whether good or evil, shall be taken in
and placed in its houses and inner repositories (ἀποθήκη), and it is guarded
in its [storehouses (ταμιεῖα)] … for a thousand days. After a thousand days,
if someone comes and asks that faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) about the sound that it
heard at this time and took into its storehouses (ταμιεῖα), immediately it shall
go into its repositories (ἀποθήκη) and seek and review and search after this
word, and send it out from where it was first put, the place in which it was
kept.
139,25 In like order, the faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of scent shall function just as
that of the eyes and that of the auditory organs. Every odour it shall smell
it shall take in to it and deposit in its inner storehouses (ταμιεῖα). Every time
it will be asked by a questioner, it shall go in … and … storehouse (ταμιεῖα) and
remember … only these things.
140,1 However, even the mouth and the tongue within it, and the taste organ,
have a faculty dwelling in them.
140,3 Again, that faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) too, of taste, has thus cavities (σπήλαιον)
and repositories (ἀποθήκη) set apart for it. It too receives these tastes and
gathers them in. And at any moment when someone will ask of a taste, if …
it shall send it out and remember that taste. It shall snare and give even the
mark of that taste; give its memory to the questioner who asks for it.
86 Gardner: ‘I.e. the physical and mental senses are distributed in the appropriate places
140,10 Again, the faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of touch by the hands is also so: When
it might touch, touch shall receive its memory. And it takes it in to its inner
repository (ἀποθήκη) until someone will ask this faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) for the
memory. Immediately, it shall go in again and bring out the memory of this
touch that it made, and give it to whoever asks for it.
140,16 And the faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of the heart that rules over them all is much
the most like this. Every thing that these five faculties (Ἐνθύμησις) will receive
and put in store (παραθήκη, depositum) for the faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of the heart
it shall receive and guard. Any time that they will ask for their deposit it shall
send out and give every thing that they gave to it.
It is striking that Augustine, when speaking of memory in conf. 10,12–13, uses
much the same metaphors. He starts speaking of the campi et lata praetoria
memoriae (the fields and vast palaces of memory) where are the treasuries of
innumerable imagines (images, representations, ideas) of all kinds of objects
brought in by sense perception. The same is said by Mani: every image the
faculty of the eyes may see is received into its storehouses (ταμιεῖαι) and
repositories (ἀποθήκαι). The same goes for the other senses: the faculties of
the ears, scent, taste, and touch. One may compare what Augustine says in
10,13: it is by the eyes (per oculos), by the ears (per aures), by the nostrils (per
aditum narium), by the door of the mouth (per oris aditum) and through the
touch (a sensu … totius corporis quid durum, quid molle etc.) that all sense
perceptions enter memory.
In 10,13 Augustine continues: ‘Memory’s huge cavern (one may com-
pare Mani’s cavities, σπήλαια), with its mysterious, secret and indescrib-
able nooks and crannies (one may compare Mani’s storehouses, ταμιεῖαι,
and repositories, ἀποθήκαι), receives all these perceptions, to be recalled
when needed and reconsidered’. The act of recalling in memory is indicated
here by the verb retractare, but earlier, in 10,12, Augustine speaks of posco,
I request, and the same is time and again said by Mani (see the first para-
graph of Kephalaion 56, p. 138,26–29): ‘Whenever they will be questioned
about what is deposited in their internal storehouses (ταμιεῖα), they bring
out what they have received within and give it to the questioner (ἀπαιτητής)
who requested it of them’. The same ‘asking’ or, ‘requesting’ by the ques-
tioner (ἀπαιτητής) is repeated in nearly all the following paragraphs.
Augustine’s next sentence in 10,13 has striking parallels in Mani’s text
as well: ‘Each of them enters into memory, each by its own gate, and is
put on deposit there’ (quae omnia suis quaeque foribus intrant ad eam
et reponuntur in ea). One may compare Mani’s speaking of the doors of
the senses in Kephalaia 141,14–1788 and later his speaking of the ‘orifices’ or
88 Keph. 141,14–17 (Gardner, 148): ‘One again the enlightener speaks: Indeed, watchmen are
172 johannes van oort
openings of the body for (the organs of) sight, hearing, smell and speaking
in Kephalaia 142,1 ff.89 These orifices are guarded by guards; we shall return
to this shortly.
Of course one might say that all these parallels are coincidental and that,
in actual fact, they are due to a common philosophical-rhetorical tradition.
Such a widespread and strong tradition indeed existed; and for the sources
of Augustine’s overall theory of memory and the role of the five senses
reference may be made to classical authors like Cicero and some others like
(possibly) Aristotle. Perhaps we may also say that Mani (and his famous
disciple Addai sive Adimantus, if he is the real author of the Kephalaia)
participated in that common philosophical and rhetorical tradition. Thus,
Augustine may have been rhetorico-philosophically influenced in this way
as well.
But the parallels with the just quoted Manichaean text Kephalaion 56 are
most striking indeed. And apart from all these parallels (correspondences I
could not find in any classical author) there is more. Augustine’s theory of
the five senses as the basis of memory is incomplete without his speaking of
a sixth sense which governs (praesidet) the other senses. This is the sensus
interior. Augustine briefly speaks of it in conf. 1,31, but in more elaborate
form already in the much earlier written second book of De libero arbitrio
(2,8–10).90 Correspondingly, in Kephalaion 56 (140,16) Mani states that the
faculty (Ἐνθύμησις) of the heart rules over all senses.
at these doors guarding them, and bolts are fastened on the doors at the hands of the guards
that guard them!’
89 Keph. 142,1 ff. (Gardner, 149): ‘The enlightener says: This body too is like the mighty
camp. And the gates of the camp with their guards are like the orifices and organs of the
body. Now, the orifices of the body are of sight, hearing and smell; and they that send out
words.’ Etc.
90 The work lib. arb. deals with the question ‘unde malum?’. Begun already in Rome
between fall 387 and fall 388 and finished in Africa c. 391–395, it is full of (in particular)
anti-Manichaean arguments.
god, memory and beauty 173
mystery’. It has its ‘wide fields’ (campi), its ‘caves’ and ‘caverns’ (cf. Mani’s
cavities, σπήλαια). Here Augustine is in search of God. He goes on and
explicitly states that he does find God in his memory: ‘Since the time I
learned to know you, you remain in my memoria (memory, consciousness)
and there I find you’ (10,35). But, ‘where then did I find You?’ Of course, so
Augustine’s reasoning, originally I did not find God in my memory. No, God
far transcends my memory! Initially I did not find God in my memory, since
He was far above it: ‘I found You in Yourself above me’: ‘in te supra me’.
91 E.g. Psalm-Book 61,14–15 (for Jesus); 164,11: ‘… fair is God …’; 174,11: ‘Fair … God …’. Fair
here is the refrain. Etc. For God and other figures of the heavenly world as Beauty (Coptic
ⲥⲁⲓⲉ), see also e.g. Psalm-Book 70,11 ((Jesus); 84,31 (the image of the holy Maiden), 95,6 (Jesus
‘my beauty’); 148, 30 (the beauty of the Maiden); 166,32 (Jesus as ‘beauty of the fair one’); 214,
8 (the beauty of the heavenly Envoy); Kephalaia 88,5 (the Beauty of the King of Glory); etc.
92 Conf. 4,31: ‘cum deformiter et sacrilega turpitudine in doctrina pietatis errarem’.
93 Psalm-Book 169,21. Another important Manichaean text to be referred to here seems to
be Keph. 64,13ff. because here the five great light limbs in each of the twelve light limbs of the
Father of Greatness are enumerated as 1. light [which is connected with the sense of sight]; 2.
perfume [connected with the sense of smell]; 3. voice [connected with the sense of hearing];
etc. Unfortunately the text which enumerates five [limbs] came to us in a corrupted state, but
it seems to be clear that God’s qualities or limbs (μέλος) are perceived by the senses.—The
whole text of conf. 10,38 seems to deserve a more extensive analysis in light of Manichaean
parallels and (possible) sources.
174 johannes van oort
Late have I loved You, o Beauty so ancient and so new. Late have I loved You.
And see, You were within and I without, and there did I seek You. I, deformed,
I plunged into those fair things which You made. You were with me, but I was
not with You! Those things kept me far from You, which unless they had their
existence in You, had no existence at all. You called and cried aloud and forced
open my deafness. You did gleam and shine, and chase away my blindness. You
were fragrant and I drew in my breath, and now pant after You. I have tasted
You, and I feel but hunger and thirst for You. You touched me and I’m set on
fire for Your peace.94
3. Conclusions
Here, at this climactic point, we stop our analysis of the first part of conf.
10, leaving the remainder (10,39–70) as a subject of future research. Yet, the
famous passage Sero te amavi also is the quite natural ending of Augustine’s
dealing with the theme of God, Memory and Beauty. It is at this juncture
that we may wind up with some provisional conclusions.
Firstly, it is crystal clear that Hippo’s bishop, when writing Book 10 some
years after 400, still has his former co-religionists at the forefront of his
mind. To a certain extent they determine his manner of reasoning and,
conceivably, even the theme he is dealing with.
Secondly, apart from many small reminiscences of Manichaean turns of
phrase, it is also clear that pivotal notions such as Augustine’s concepts of
God, Memory and Beauty are strongly influenced by Manichaean concepts,
as a rule in an anti-thetical manner, but also in a positive thetical way.
Thirdly, Augustine seems to have been acquainted with the contents of
the Manichaean Kephalaion 56, either in a direct way (i.e., by hearing or
reading a Latin version of this ‘Chapter’ of Mani’s teaching) or indirectly (i.e.,
by hearing the essentials of this teaching from Manichaean contemporaries
or reading them in Manichaean books).
Fourthly, Augustine’s familiarity with Manichaean teaching had a deep
effect not only on him, but via his immense influence, also on our intellec-
tual history. Or, stated otherwise, essential elements of ‘Western’ thought
94 Conf. 10,38: ‘Sero te amavi, pulchritudo tam antiqua et tam nova, sero te amavi! et
ecce intus eras et ego foris, et ibi te quaerebam, et in ista formosa, quae fecisti, deformis
inruebam. mecum eras, et tecum non eram. ea me tenebant longe a te, quae si in te non
essent, non essent. vocasti et clamasti et rupisti surditatem meam: coruscasti, splenduisti et
fugasti caecitatem meam: fragrasti, et duxi spiritum, et anhelo tibi, gustavi et esurio et sitio,
tetigisti me, et exarsi in pacem tuam.’
god, memory and beauty 175
Augustine starts his work On Heresies from the years 428–429 with these
words:
I write something on heresies that is worth reading for those who desire to
avoid teachings which are contrary to the Christian faith and which, nonethe-
less, deceive others, because they bear the Christian name.1
So basically heresies are teachings containing an anti-Christian faith, even
though they still claim to be Christian. This definition must also include the
Manichaeans since they are treated by Augustine in On Heresies, chapter 46.
By saying that heresies are anti-Christian teachings which still call them-
selves Christian, Augustine probably had the word of Jesus from Matthew
7:22 in mind. Here Jesus speaks about certain rejected persons who will say
to Christ on judgment day: “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name,
and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your
name?”
However, the word “heresies” used by Augustine is not found in Matthew,
so it also seems clear that his definition is an echo of an older heresiolog-
ical topos which was more clear-cut when it was first expressed in Justin
Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho, chapter 35. This chapter, which seems to
combine Matthew 7:15 and 7:22 and other words of Jesus, states that the
heretics should not be named after Christ but only after their heresiarch,
the originator of their heresy. This viewpoint was repeated by many subse-
quent Christian authors and it shows how much the name “Christian” had
become an ‘insider’ name or autonym, even if it was also the preferred name
dignum lectione cupientium dogmata devitare contraria fidei christianae et christiani nomi-
nis obumbratione fallentia …”, Vander Plaetse & Beukers 1979, 287:2–4).
178 nils arne pedersen
used by outsiders, e.g. by persecutors like Pliny, as we know from his letter
to the emperor Trajan. The crucial question put by Pliny to those who were
accused of being Christians was precisely whether they were Christians, and
this corresponds with the Christian martyr literature which often states that
the persecutions occurred because of the “name”. So the name Christian was
both an autonym and an exonym, that is an ‘outsider’ name.
In fact, according to most scholars’ interpretation of the Acts of the
Apostles 11:26, the name “Christian” was originally an exonym, coined in
Antioch, while Acts also uses another name for the Christians, namely “the
Way” (ἡ ὁδός) (Acts 9:2; 19:9.23; 22:4; 24:14.22). This name was especially
used in the context of conflict or persecution. In Acts 24:14 it becomes
clear that “the Way” was an insider designation distinguished from the term
αἵρεσις used by outsiders at that time. However, it has also been argued
that the name of Christians was coined by the Christians themselves with
respect to the outside world while between themselves the first Christians
preferred the names of “brethren”, “believers”, “Saints” and so forth.2 This
argument illustrates the possibility that a group may have had an autonym
only intended for use in communication to outsiders.
Justin Martyr would not allow the heretics to be called Christians, and
this shows how dear this name had become to the Christians themselves.
This was perhaps due to its central role in the persecutions, but it may also
have something to do with its association with the anointments linked to
baptism. So exonyms may also have become autonyms, and they raise the
question of the origin and function of the names of heretics mentioned
by Justin and other church fathers. The heretics called themselves Chris-
tians, but the church fathers called them Marcionites, Valentinians, Basilid-
ians, Saturnilians and so on. This could mean that these names were only
exonyms used by heresiologists and proto-orthodox groups. But it is also
possible that these groups sometimes also turned exonyms into autonyms
and thus actually called themselves Valentinians, Basilidians etc.
The fact that the texts from Nag Hammadi did not use such names as self-
designations, however, raised the suspicion in scholarship that they were
solely exonyms used by proto-orthodox authors in order to cast doubt on
the Christian character of their adversaries. It should be observed, how-
ever, that we have a unique piece of epigraphic evidence as to the use of
the name Marcionite, or more precisely Marcionist, as an autonym in an
inscription dated to the year 630 of the Seleucid era (i.e., 318–319ad). It was
3 Συναγωγὴ Μαρκιωνιστῶν κώμ(ης) Λεβάβων τοῦ κ(υρίο)υ κ[α]ὶ σ(ωτῆ)ρ(ος) Ἰη(σοῦ) Χρη-
στοῦ, προνοίͅα Παύλου πρεσβ(υτέρου), τοῦ λχ’ ἔτους.—Waddington 1870, 583–584 No 2558. The
dating refers to the Seleucid era.—The inscription is now presumably lost, cf. Markschies
2007, 342 n. 20.
4 Due to the iotacisms, there was no longer any difference in pronunciation between
Χριστός and Χρηστός, but this circumstance was exploited to express special points of mean-
ing. Very widespread in antiquity was the apologetic Christian interpretation or word-play
with the spelling Χρηστός to express the idea that Christians were not associated with flagi-
tia, moral corruption, but with moral goodness; cf. Peterson 1959, 83–85. The Marcionites
sometimes calling themselves with the Greek loan-word kerīsṭeyānē (or perhaps kerēsṭeyānē),
“Christians”, and not with the native mešīḥāyē, “worshippers of Messiah”, in Syriac-speaking
areas, seems to follow from the story in the hagiographical life of Mar Aba, the Catholicos
of the Church of the East, chapter 3, Bedjan 1895, 213:7–214; cf. the German translation in
Braun 1915, 189–190. Cf. also Walter Bauer’s discussion of the passage (1964, 27–29): Bauer
assumed that this usage meant that the Marcionites had been the first Christians in this
area of Mesopotamia and furthermore that this had also been the case in Edessa—“sehr
zum Ärger der Rechtgläubigen, die sich mit mißverständlichen Ersatzmitteln wie ‘Messi-
asverehrer’ begnügen müssen” (Bauer 1964, 29). It seems, however, highly improbable that
the Marcionites were the first Christians in the Syriac-speaking regions. The fact that the
Peshitta version of the Old Testament is a translation from the Hebrew proto-Masoretic text
and not from Greek makes it probable that it was the work of a Jewish group that later became
Christian and brought the translation with them, or even a Jewish group which was already
Jewish-Christian; cf. the contribution and summary of the discussion in Romeny 2005. The
Peshitta Old Testament seems at least to predate Tatian’s Diatessaron (cf. Brock 1977, 97–98)
and there is no reason to assume that it was later than Syriac Marcionism. But if this is the
case, I cannot see why mešīḥāyē, which is linked to the Syriac mešīẖā used in the Peshitta
(e.g. Psalms 2:2) cannot be just as old in Syriac as kerīsṭeyānē. In Ephrem’s hymns, mešīḥāyē
is used alongside kerīsṭeyānē (Hymni contra haereses XXII:7, Beck 1957, 80:14; XXIII:9, Beck
1957, 89:12.14). Furthermore, the name “Christian” cannot have been monopolized by the
Marcionites in Edessa, since it was also used by the Bardaisanites; cf. Liber legum regionum
46, Nau 1907, 607:17.20. Perhaps the form kerīsṭeyānē was preferred when Syriac-speaking
Christians wanted to stress their cultural links to Christian congregations further west in the
Roman Empire?
180 nils arne pedersen
Against this background, it is natural to ask whether the noun and adjec-
tive “Manichaean” was also only an exonym, never used by the Manichaeans
themselves—that is, the groups which were called so by the outsiders. In
what follows, I will examine Manichaean texts in Greek, Latin, Coptic and
Syriac, but have chosen to disregard (except for a few insufficient remarks)
the texts from Turfan that were transmitted in a mainly non-Christian cul-
tural context and therefore require special discussion.
5 Lim 2008.
6 Cf. Lim 2008, 159, about the Manichaean Julia in Mark the Deacon’s Life of Porphyry of
Gaza, whom Lim considers to be “a female counterpart to Secundinus”.
manichaean self-designations in the western tradition 181
7 Lim 2008, 147, states that the Manichaeans mainly represented themselves as Christians
by referring to the fact that Mani claimed himself to be an “Apostle of Jesus Christ”. This
reference in itself is, however, insufficient as regards the question of Manichaean autonyms.
182 nils arne pedersen
8 Zycha 1891–1892, 891–901. The English translation used here is in Gardner and Lieu 2004,
136–142.
9 Van Oort 2001.
10 Secundinus says about the Devil: “Afterwards his wickedness grew so far that he devised
various problems for him and his apostles who gathered there, under their name, which is all
the worse, dividing among all the superstitious the dignity of the term Catholic” (translation
by Mark Vermes in Gardner and Lieu 2004, 139–140).—“at postea tantum eius creuit iniq-
uitas, ut et ipso et apostolis eius illuc ascendentibus diuersas conponeret quaestiones, sub
eorum, quod peius est, nomine superstitiones omnibus, id est catholici uocabuli diuidens
dignitatem”, Zycha 1891–1892, 897:23–894:4.
manichaean self-designations in the western tradition 183
11 Zycha 1891–1892, 79–112. The English translation used here is in Teske 2006 (quoted with
Capitula is used by Augustine in Contra Faustum XXXIII,9, Zycha 1891–1892, 796:15, and has
become traditional in scholarship. Recently, however, van Oort (2010, 529–530) has argued
that the original title of Faustus’ work may in fact have been Disputationes.
14 Cf. van Oort 2010, 529–531.
184 nils arne pedersen
Faustus only refers to his own group and his opponent’s group as “we” versus
“you”. Only one passage in the long excerpts show that Faustus could use
the adjective “Manichaean” as a positive autonym: in Book XVIII,3 where
he speaks about “Manichaea fides” (Zycha 1891–1892, 492:1) as the basis for
considering Matthew 5:17 a spurious saying of Jesus. The rare use of this
autonym in Faustus may mean that he had the same attitude to it as I have
suspected in connection with Fortunatus and perhaps also Secundinus,
namely as the designation towards the outside world which is not wrong
and which therefore is permitted for use even though it is not the usual
self-designation of Faustus and his congregation.
In most passages, Faustus accepts the traditional classification of reli-
gious groups from the second century consisting of three “races”. This clas-
sification may already be present in Aristides’ Apology, but at least it is
found in Tertullian’s Ad nationes (I,8 and I,20), where we are informed that
the Christians were called “the third race”, “genus tertium”. Faustus, how-
ever, does not use the word “race” but speaks of three “religiones” (XXXI,2,
Zycha 1891–1892, 757:19), “Iudaeos et christianos et gentes” (XXXI,2, Zycha
1891–1892, 757:11). This implies, however, that Faustus’ own group—that is,
this “we” on behalf of whom he is speaking—must be Christians. However,
Faustus also repeatedly states this (e.g. Zycha 1891–1892, 262:11; 268:17–18;
305:19; 310:14–15; 730:10); especially one should observe how he identifies
himself as being of Gentile origin in Book IX,1 but claims that while he has
become a Christian, others of Gentile origin have become Jews—obviously
thinking of the Catholics (Zycha 1891–1892, 307:21–24). Corresponding to
this, Faustus rejects—with a reference to Adimantus—from the very out-
set the “semi-Christians” whom he puts on a par with Judaism (I,2, Zycha
1891–1892, 251:3).
In fact, Faustus frequently uses the argument of the Gentile origin of
Christians to stress the irrelevance of the Old Testament (cf. XIII,1, Zycha
1891–1892, 377:12–279:6, full of evidence of the word “Christian” as a Mani-
chaean autonym), but this is mere rhetoric, since he also stresses (e.g. in
XV,1, Zycha 1891–1892, 417:22–418:5) that in the same way the Jews should
leave the Old Testament and its God behind them. Faustus’ really important
argument consists in the opposition of old and new, Judaism and Christian-
ity: Catholics “turn the Christian faith into a centaur, neither a complete
horse nor a complete man” (“christianam denique fidem Hippocentaurum
facite, nec equum perfectum nec hominem” [XV,1, Zycha 1891–1892, 417:4–5];
translation Teske 2007, 183).
Due to his basic missionary goal, Faustus of course tries to show the com-
mon ground between himself and the Catholics, namely that they do not
manichaean self-designations in the western tradition 185
follow the Jewish law either. So Faustus claims to represent the true version
of his opponents’ tradition; even though he reserves true Christianity for
himself, the Christian tradition of his opponents is also important in order
to convince them that they should join him. Faustus sometimes seems to
think of Christianity as a big movement with many schools, for instance
when he writes that there exist “christianarum haeresium” (Zycha 1891–1892,
446:2), including “catholici” (Zycha 1891–1892, 446:3) (XVI,7). Faustus also
knows about Jewish Christians, as is evident from his mention of the Nazare-
ans or Symmachians, whom he does not seem to consider Christians but
whose position he still thinks is more consistent than the Catholic one since
acceptance of the Old Testament must also imply observance of its laws
(XIX,4, Zycha 1891–1892, 500:3–28).15 Faustus never reckons with any posi-
tive contents in the word “Catholic”. It is simply the right designation for his
opponents (cf. XXIII,2, Zycha 1891–1892, 708:27 or “conventu catholico” in
XXX,3, Zycha 1891–1892, 749:20–21). Among the Catholics, however, he can
also make a gradation and refer to the ascetics as “christianioribus” (XXX,3,
Zycha 1891–1892, 749:11).
Thus it seems that this line of reasoning must mean either that Catholics
are Jews or that they are defective Christians. In an interesting section, how-
ever, a different approach is taken by Faustus in that he uses a special dis-
tinction between the concepts “schisma” and “secta”. Faustus defines the two
concepts in this way: “unless I am mistaken, a schism is a group that holds
the same opinions and worships with the same ritual as others but wants
only a division of the congregation. But a sect is a group that holds opinions
far different from others and has established for itself a worship of the deity
with a far different ritual” (“schisma, nisi fallor, est eadem opinantem atque
eodem ritu colentem quo ceteri solo congregationis delectari discidio; secta
uero est longe alia opinantem quam ceteri, alio etiam sibi ac longe dissimili
ritu diuinitatis instituisse culturam”, XX.3, Zycha 1891–1892, 537:4–8; transla-
tion Teske 2007, 262). The setting for this approach is a Catholic accusation
against “us”, as Faustus says, for being Gentiles or a schism from the Gen-
tiles because of “our” worship of the sun (XX,1, Zycha 1891–1892, 535:23–24).
Instead Faustus wants to show that “we” constitute a “secta”, a community
whose opinion and worship is completely different from the opinion and
worship of the Pagans. “The pagans teach that good and evil, the dark and
15 At least Faustus seems to disassociate himself from the Jewish Christians’ claim to be
Christians with the wording “sub christiani quamuis nominis professione” (Zycha 1891–1892,
500:10). This may be because their observance of the Jewish law removed them from what
Faustus considered the essence of Christianity.
186 nils arne pedersen
the bright, the perpetual and the perishable, the changeable and the sta-
ble, the bodily and the divine have one principle. I myself hold views quite
contrary to these. For I hold that God is the principle of all good things,
but that Hyle is the principle of their contraries. For our theologian calls by
that name the principle and nature of the evil” (“pagani bona et mala, tae-
tra et splendida, perpetua et caduca, mutabilia et certa, corporalia et diuina
unum habere principium dogmatizant. his ego ualde contraria sentio, qui
bonis omnibus principium fateor deum, contrariis uero hylen; sic enim mali
principium ac naturam theologus noster appellat”, XX.3, Zycha 1891–1892,
537:10–14; translation Teske 2007, 263).16 Faustus continues by demonstrat-
ing that in accordance with this, the worshipping of the Pagans is material,
with altars, shrines, images, sacrifices, and incense, while “our” worshipping
is spiritual: the altar and the image are in the mind of man, and the prayers
are the true sacrifices (XX.3, Zycha 1891–1892, 537:15–21).
It may seem curious that Faustus does not consider the Gentiles or Pa-
gans—he makes use of both words—to be polytheists, but he probably
thought of the Paganism of Late Antiquity with its stamp of neo-Platonism
that attempted to understand the world as a unity originating from one
divine principle.
Having established that “we” and the Gentiles constitute two different
“sects”, that is, communities with a completely different doctrine and wor-
ship, Faustus tries to demonstrate that the doctrine and worship of the Jews
and Catholics are not very different from those of the Pagans, which means
that the Jews and Catholics are merely two “schisms” from the Pagans. Jews
and Catholics alike claim, according to Faustus, that God is the cause of
everything; thus their doctrine is basically the same as the doctrine of the
Pagans. The worship of God among the Jews was—with its temple and
sacrifices—like the Pagan cult. The worship of the Catholics is merely a
modification of the Pagan cult—Faustus thinks inter alia that the Christian
martyr cult had similarities to Paganism (Zycha 1891–1892, 537:27–29 and
538:2–16). Faustus’ conclusion is therefore that there is no communal spirit
between “you” and “us”: “It is not true, however, even if you call me a schism
of you, though I reverence and worship Christ. For I worship him with
another ritual and another faith than you do” (“sed nec uestrum quidem
16 “Hyle” is the Greek word for “matter”; it is probable that Mani—who may be the
“theologus noster” here—really used this Greek word as a loanword in his Syriac writings (cf.
Schaeder 1927, 112, inter alia referring both to Faustus and Ephrem the Syrian’s refutations of
Mani).
manichaean self-designations in the western tradition 187
17 This must in fact have been a problem for all groups calling themselves Christians. A
clear example of this is precisely Augustine, who obviously considered the name Christian an
insufficient autonym since he often preferred the qualifying variant “christianus catholicus”;
for examples, see van Oort 2010, 528 n. 124.
188 nils arne pedersen
The names “Christian” and “Manichaean” are not used in the fragments
of Mani’s own writings preserved in Latin, the Epistula fundamenti or the
Thesaurus, which were probably works primarily intended for use within
the Manichaean congregations themselves. However, Mani refers in a frag-
ment of the Epistula fundamenti (preserved in Evodius’ De fide V) to his
congregation as “the Holy Church” (“sanctam ecclesiam”, Zycha 1891–1892,
953:2).
Moving away from the Latin-speaking regions, we find that the fragmentary
Greek epitaph from Salona in Dalmatia which may be dated to circa 300 is
most interesting. The preserved part of the inscription reads: Βάσσα Παρ-
θένος Λυδία Μανιχέα ....., obviously referring to a virgin called Bassa, who
was a Manichaean and came from Lydia.18 The epitaph was obviously set
up by the Manichaeans themselves, but it may be too bold to conclude
that “Manichaean” was an important autonym in Dalmatia since it was
probably the intention that the inscription should also be read by the non-
Manichaean neighbours. For this reason the identification of Bassa may
have been felt as necessary.
The Coptic-Manichaean literary texts that have been found in Medinet Madi
and Ismant el-Kharab in Egypt differ not only from the statements made by
Secundinus, Felix, Fortunatus and Faustus because of the different cultural
and linguistic region but also because the Coptic texts seem to address
themselves to the congregations and not to non-Manichaean surroundings.
Therefore a comparison is difficult.
The fact, however, that the word “Manichaean” is never found in them19
fits the interpretation that the word is primarily intended for the outside
world. Probably the Egyptian Manichaeans would also have recognized the
word since there is no polemic against it either. Here it is of interest to men-
tion that the Kellis Agricultural Account Book20 refers to a place, Τόπ(ος) Μανι,
as a tenant farm. Since τόπος often designates a monastery in Byzantine
Greek and in Coptic, it has been argued by Roger Bagnall that this could be
a reference to the Manichaean monastery mentioned in some private let-
ters from Kellis, even though Mani is otherwise called Μάνης or Μανιχαῖος
in Greek texts.21 Therefore it seems doubtful that Mani could be a personal
name here, and I think it is worth considering whether Μανι could be an
abbreviation for Μανι(χαίων), or (τῶν) Μανι(χαίων), meaning “the monastery
of the Manichaeans”? This would show that the exonym of the Manichaeans
in Kellis was actually “Manichaeans”, also in a commercial context where
they themselves must also have had to acknowledge its relevance. However,
the fact that there are no other examples of this abbreviation makes it very
uncertain.
The clear difference between the Latin-Manichaean texts and the Mani-
chaean texts from Egypt is that no instances of a clear use of the word “Chris-
tian” (χριστιανός) as an autonym have been found in the last-mentioned
texts. The word is found once in the form χρηστιανός in the Manichaean
Homilies22 (72:9: ρ�ⲭⲣⲏⲥⲧⲓⲁⲛⲟⲥ), and once as χριστιανός in the Kephalaia23
(258:29: ⲛⲣⲱⲙⲉ ρ�ρ�ρ�ⲓρ�[ⲧⲓⲁⲛ]ⲟⲥ), but in both instances the word does occur
in a fragmentary context.24 Still, a cautious discussion of these two passages
seems worth attempting.
Based on the passage itself it is not possible to say whether ρ�ϩⲣⲏⲥⲧⲓⲁⲛⲟⲥ
in the Manichaean Homilies 72:9 refers to the Manichaeans or not.25 Only
20 This is a codex consisting of wooden boards found at Ismant el-Kharab, ancient Kellis,
in which the manager of an agricultural estate kept records of produce collected from the
tenants and any amounts which they owed. It is edited in Bagnall 1997.
21 Cf. Bagnall 1997, 81–82 n. 77, about the meaning of τόπος (with references). Τόπ(ος)
Μανι is mentioned twice in the Kellis Agricultural Account Book: 320 and 513. Bagnall, ibid. 81,
writes: “In the circumstances in which this term occurs, it must be a corporate entity paying
rent on leased land”, cf. 192. Later on, the Monk Petros pays instead of the τόπ(ος) Μανι:
Kellis Agricultural Account Book 975–976 (Πέτρος μοναχ(ὸς) ἀντὶ Μανι), cf. Petros in the Kellis
Agricultural Account Book 1109, 1433; another monk, Timotheos, is mentioned in the Kellis
Agricultural Account Book 1079–1080. Bagnall 1997, 83, argues that Mani is the eponym of the
monastery, and he also writes (84): “Mani is usually referred to in Greek texts as Manichaios,
not as Mani, and some caution may be in order.”
22 Editions: Polotsky 1934; Pedersen 2006.
23 Editions: Schmidt, Polotsky, and Böhlig 1940; Böhlig 1966; Funk 1999–2000.
24 The word is not found in the Manichaean Psalm-Book II (edition: Allberry 1938).
25 The word is followed by a punctuation mark and the word ϣⲁⲩπ� ⲧ.[, “they shall make
[…]”, but we cannot say whether this third person plural refers to ρ�ⲭⲣⲏⲥⲧⲓⲁⲛⲟⲥ or to somebody
else that were mentioned in the long lacunae preceding this word. Cf. the distinction between
first person plural and third person plural in line 12. π�ⲇⲟⲅⲙⲁ, designating non-Manichaean
190 nils arne pedersen
material from other texts may illuminate its meaning, and consequently it
is highly probable that the word is a Manichaean self-designation. In his
Contra Manichaei opiniones disputatio 24, Alexander of Lycopolis states as
follows:
Christ however, whom they do not even know, but whom they call chrestos
(good), introducing a new meaning instead of the generally received one by
changing the i into e, they hold to be Intellect …26
The Coptic translation of one of Mani’s epistles has likewise Χρηστός instead
of Χριστός: “[Manichæus, the A]postle of [Je]su[s] Chrestos”.27
errors, are mentioned in lines 14 and 18 but it seems doubtful that ρ�ⲭⲣⲏⲥⲧⲓⲁⲛⲟⲥ should be
included among these.
26 Τὸν δὲ χριστὸν οὐδὲ γιγνώσκοντες, ἀλλὰ χρηστὸν αὐτὸν προσαγορεύοντες τῇ πρὸς τὸ η̄
στοιχεῖον μεταλήψει ἕτερον σημαινόμενον ἀντὶ τοῦ κυρίως περὶ αὐτοῦ ὑπειλημμένου εἰσάγοντες
νοῦν εἶναί φασιν, Brinkmann 1895, 34:18–21; translation Mansfeld and van der Horst 1974, 91–92.
27 [ⲙⲁⲛⲓⲭⲁⲓⲟⲥ ⲡⲁ]ρ�ⲟⲥⲧⲟⲗⲟⲥ π�[ⲓⲏ]ⲥρ�[ⲩⲥ] ⲡⲉⲭⲣⲏρ�ⲧρ�ⲥ: P. Kell. Copt. 53 (12:1–2), ed. Iain Gard-
ner and Wolf-Peter Funk, in Gardner 2007, 34–35, cf. 74, 79.
28 Peterson 1959, 83–84 n. 61 assumes that the Manichaeans took this designation for
Christ and themselves from the Marcionites. This is possible but then it is probably only in
the Greek- and Coptic-speaking contexts that this borrowing took place since a distinction
between Χριστός and Χρηστός would hardly have made sense in a Syriac context.
29 Böhlig 1968, 204, 262–265.
30 Kephalaia 259:1–4: ⲡ[ⲙⲁϩ]ⲥⲛⲉⲩ ϫⲉⲩⲛⲁⲙⲟⲩⲧⲉ ⲁⲛⲣⲱⲙⲉ ⲉⲧⲙⲉπ�ⲉ π�ⲙⲁϥ ⲙⲡⲉ[ϥⲣⲉⲛ] ⲁⲩⲱ π�ⲥⲉϯ
ⲡⲉϥⲣⲉⲛ ⲁⲛⲉϥϣⲏⲣⲉ π�π� ⲛϣⲏⲣⲉ π�π�[ϣⲏ]ⲣⲉ. Gardner (1995, 264 n. 136) suggests emendating ⲁⲛⲉⲩ-
ϣⲏⲣⲉ instead of ⲁⲛⲉϥϣⲏⲣⲉ, resulting in: “⟨their⟩ children and [chil]dren’s children”.
31 Böhlig 1968, 263.
manichaean self-designations in the western tradition 191
useful te[a]chings which I have revealed they c[a]ll the people who love me
with my name.”32 Böhlig’s comments were: “Wie die Christen nach Christus
haben die Manichäer nach Mani ihren Namen.”33
This interpretation seems the most probable one.34 However, the very fact
that no example has yet been found of the use of the word “Manichaean”
as a self-designation in the Coptic-Manichaean texts raises the question
whether chapter 105 describes a real practice or is a prescriptive text trying
to impose such a practice on the congregations. In line with this argument,
it is furthermore possible to speculate whether the Kephalaia represents an
attempt to dissociate Manichaeism from Christianity—as recently stressed
by Iain Gardner.35 Thus Mani is always called “the Apostle of Light” in the
Kephalaia, while his own more subordinating self-designation “Apostle of
Jesus Christ” is never found.
Even though the texts never mention the word “Manichaean” and only
rarely the word “Christian”, there are other autonyms. A reference to “the
Elect and the Catechumens” (π�ⲥⲱⲧπ� or π�ⲉⲕⲗⲉⲕⲧⲟⲥ ⲙπ� π�ⲕⲁⲧⲏⲭⲟⲩⲙⲉⲛⲟⲥ, e.g.
Psalm-Book II, 20:2; 21:22–23; 25:27; 27:14) actually refers to the congrega-
tion in its entirety. This is also the case with references to “the Holy Church”
(ⲧⲉⲕⲕⲗⲏⲥⲓⲁ ⲉⲧⲟⲩⲁⲃⲉ, e.g. Psalm-Book II, 8:25) and the “Righteousness” (ⲧⲇⲓ-
ⲕⲁⲓⲟⲥⲩⲛⲏ, e.g. Manichaean Homilies 14:9; 15:12–13). Often autonyms are used
that are metaphorically derived from the family sphere, such as “Sons” (π�-
ϣⲏⲣⲉ, e.g. Psalm-Book II, 14:9.16; 42:29; 44:10; 58:24) or “Sons of the Living
Race” (π�ϣⲏⲣⲉ ⲛϯⲣⲉπ�ⲧⲉ ⲉⲧⲁⲛϩ⳿). This last-mentioned designation was used by
Mani in his Epistles and Living Gospel, preserved in Coptic.36 I have proba-
bly found its Syriac form as benayyā d e-šarbetā ḥayyetā in some fragments in
Manichaean script, even though some letters must be restored.37
32 Kephalaia 259:11–13: ϩⲛ ⲛⲁρ�ρ�[ⲁ]ⲩⲉ ϩⲱⲱϥ ⲉⲧⲁⲛⲓⲧ ⲉⲧπ�ϣⲉⲩ ⲉⲧⲁπ�ⲟⲩⲁⲛϩⲟⲩ ⲁⲃⲁⲗ ⲉⲓ[ⲥ]ρ�ⲉ ⲥⲉ-
quotation from the First discourse of Mani’s Living Gospel in Gardner 2007, 83.
37 That is, in some fragments (P. 22364) in the papyrus collection in Berlin; cf. the forth-
coming edition of them by Nils Arne Pedersen and John Møller Larsen in the Series Syriaca
of the CFM (Brepols).
192 nils arne pedersen
7. Conclusion
“Mani, the Apostle of Jesus the Messiah”, the Syriac form of which we know
from a rock crystal seal which is in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris.40
Unfortunately, decisive evidence is lacking. But a passage which may be
read in line with this has been quoted by Iain Gardner from a yet unpub-
lished Mani-epistle from Medinet Madi, The Seventh Ktesiphon Letter. In
Gardner’s quotation it reads like this: “[…] on account of our good saviour,
our god Christ Jesus, the one in whose name I have chosen you”.41
Bibliography
ciation of Manichaean Studies (IAMS). Edited by Johannes van Oort, Otto Wer-
melinger & Gregor Wurst. NHMS XLIX. Leiden, Boston, Cologne: Brill, 161–173.
——— 2010: “Manichaean Christians in Augustine’s Life and Work.” Church History
and Religious Culture 90.4. Leiden, 505–546.
Pedersen, Nils Arne (ed.) 2006: Manichaean Homilies: With a Number of Hitherto
Unpublished Fragments. CFM, Series Coptica 2. Turnhout: Brepols.
Peterson, Erik 1959: “Christianus.” Frühkirche, Judentum und Gnosis. Studien und
Untersuchungen. Rome, Freiburg, Vienna: Herder, 64–87.
Vander Plaetse, R. & C. Beukers 1979: Sancti Aurelii Augustini De haeresibus ad Quod-
vultdeum liber unus. Cura et studio R. Vander Plaetse & C. Beukers. CCL XLVI.
Aurelii Augustini opera, pars XIII,2. Turnhout: Brepols, 263–358.
Polotsky, Hans Jakob (ed.) 1934: Manichäische Homilien. Manichäische Handschrif-
ten der Sammlung A. Chester Beatty I. Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer.
Romeny, Bas ter Haar 2005: “Hypotheses on the Development of Judaism and Chris-
tianity in Syria in the Period after 70C.E.”. Huub van de Sandt (ed.): Matthew and
the Didache. Two Documents from the Same Jewish-Christian Milieu? Assen: Van
Gorcum, 13–33.
Schaeder, Hans Heinrich 1927: Urform und Fortbildungen des manichäischen Sys-
tems. Sonderdruck aus Vorträge der Bibliothek Warburg, IV, Vorträge 1924–1925.
Leipzig: B.G. Teubner.
Schmidt, Carl, Hans Jakob Polotsky & Alexander Böhlig, 1940: Kephalaia. Band I.
1. Hälfte. Manichäische Handschriften der Staatlichen Museen Berlin. Stuttgart:
W. Kohlhammer.
Teske, Roland J. 1995: The Works of Saint Augustine. A Translation for the 21st Century;
I/18: Arianism and Other Heresies: Heresies—Memorandum to Augustine—To
Orosius in Refutation of the Priscillianists and Origenists—Arian Sermon—Answer
to an Arian Sermon—Debate with Maximinus—Answer to Maximinus—Answer
to an Enemy of the Law and the Prophets. Introduction, translation and notes by
Roland J. Teske. New York: New City Press.
——— 2006: The Works of Saint Augustine. A Translation for the 21st Century; I/19:
The Manichean Debate: The Catholic Way of Life and the Manichean Way of Life—
The Two Souls—A Debate with Fortunatus, a Manichean—Answer to Adimantus,
a Disciple of Mani—Answer to the Letter of Mani known as the Foundation—
Answer to Felix, a Manichean—The Nature of the Good—Answer to Secundinus, a
Manichean. Introduction and notes by Roland Teske. New York: New City Press.
——— 2007: The Works of Saint Augustine. A Translation for the 21st Century; I/20:
Answer to Faustus, a Manichean. Introduction, translation and notes by Roland
Teske. Editor Boniface Ramsey. New City Press, New York.
Waddington, W.H. 1870: Inscriptions grecques et latines de la Syrie recueillies et expli-
quées. Paris: Firmin Didot.
Zycha, Iosephus 1891–1892: Sancti Aureli Augustini De utilitate credendi, De duabus
animabus, Contra Fortunatum, Contra Adimantum, Contra Epistulam Fundamen-
ti, Contra Faustum, De natura boni, Epistula Secundini, Contra Secundinum, acce-
dunt Evodii De fide contra Manichaeos, et Commonitorium Augustini quod fertur
praefatione utriusque partis praemissa. CSEL XXV (Sect. VI Pars 1–2), Vienna:
F. Tempsky.
APPENDIX
RESEARCH OVERVIEW
THE MANICHAEAN BISHOP FAUSTUS:
THE STATE OF RESEARCH AFTER A CENTURY OF SCHOLARSHIP
During the last century the dry sands of Egypt have proven to be a treasury
for ancient history. The arid climate has conserved a number of historical
sources from which a large number of fields in ancient history have profited
enormously. One of these fields is the study of Manichaeism. It was in Egypt
that a significant number of Manichaean texts have been recovered.
In 1929 seven papyrus codices were found in the Egyptian oasis of Medi-
net Madi. They turned out to contain the Kephalaia of the Teacher, Mani’s
Epistles, the Synaxeis of the Living Gospel, a Manichaean Church history, a
book of psalms, a collection of homilies and the Kephalaia of the Wisdom
of My Lord Mani. All these texts were composed in Coptic and date from
around 350–400ad. They are translations of original Syriac texts and reach
back at least to the first century of the Manichaean church. Another major
source emerged in the Cairo antiques market and was purchased by the Uni-
versity of Cologne in 1969. This so-called Cologne Mani Codex (CMC) was
written in Greek and also dates from the fourth century, although a later
date has been proposed as well. The text offers written testimonies by some
of Mani’s disciples on his earlier life and missionary journeys. Besides, from
the 1980’s onwards excavations in the Egyptian Dakhleh Oasis—the Roman
period village of Kellis—recovered papyrological evidence of a Manichaean
community there. The Australian conducted excavation project has un-
earthed a large number of various sources, including legal documents and
personal correspondence written by Manichaean believers.1
All these primary Manichaean sources have increased our insight into
the ancient religion of Manichaeism. They also enabled scholars to analyse
Manichaean influence on Western religious thought more closely. Until
1 Iain Gardner & Samuel N.C. Lieu, Manichaean Texts from the Roman Empire, Cam-
1929 our most important source on this issue had been the North African
church father Augustine (354–430). He had been a well-known auditor of
the Manichaean Church for some ten years, before he converted to Nicene
Christianity. As a bishop of Hippo Regius (present day Annaba in Algeria),
Augustine vehemently defended his Catholic faith against his Manichaean
opponents. Because he himself had escaped from the ‘devil’s snare’ of Man-
ichaeism, he must have been considered an appropriate person to disprove
the false beliefs of this rival Church. Some opponents, like the Manichaean
doctor Felix and the presbyter Fortunatus, he confronted in open debates
that are preserved in Augustine’s Contra Felicem Manichaeum and the Acta
contra Fortunatum Manichaeum respectively.2 To others he reacted in writ-
ing. For example, he responded to the Roman auditor Secundinus in his
Contra Secundinum.
These debates with Manichaeans have received considerable attention
over the last years. A recent book on the topic of ‘Augustine and Mani-
chaeism’ presented several new contributions on Felix, Fortunatus and
Secundinus.3 These contributions aim to understand not only the course
of the debates, but also the main theological positions that were at stake.
The same sources that enable the analysis of Augustine’s Manichaean influ-
ences, do also allow us to understand the Manichaean background of his
opponents.
Of these opponents, the Manichaean bishop Faustus of Milevis deserves
closer attention, and for two main reasons. Firstly, Augustine met him while
still being an auditor of the Manichaean Church in Carthage. The Catholic
bishop describes their encounter in a well-known passage of his Confes-
siones.4 With intense yearning he had awaited Faustus’ arrival for almost
nine years. As an auditor, Augustine had compared Manichaean astrolog-
ical teachings with those of the philosophers. Because the philosophical
writings seemed to offer more plausible explanations of occurrences like
solstices and eclipses, he had started doubting Manichaean teachings.5 His
François Decret and Johannes van Oort (CFM SL II), Turnhout, Brepols 2004.
3 Jason D. BeDuhn, ‘Did Augustine Win His Debate With Fortunatus?’ in: Jacob Albert
van den Berg, Annemaré Kotzé, Tobias Nicklas & Madeleine Scopello (eds.), ‘In Search
of Truth’: Augustine, Manichaeism and other Gnosticism. Studies for Johannes van Oort at
Sixty, NHMS 74, Leiden–Boston: Brill 2011, 463–480; Andreas Hoffmann, ‘Secundinus in der
Diskussion mit Augustinus über das malum: Beobachtungen zu den augustinischen Quellen
der Epistula Secundini’ in: idem, 481–518; Giulia Sfameni Gasparro, ‘The Disputation with
Felix: Themes and Modalities of Augustine’s Polemic’ in: idem, 519–544.
4 Conf. 5.6.10–5.7.13.
5 Conf. 5.4.6.
the manichaean bishop faustus 201
fellow believers, however, assured Augustine that Faustus would take away
his doubts. But in the end the long-awaited encounter with the Manichaean
bishop was a great disappointment. Faustus did not even want to discuss
these matters. Furthermore, Augustine found Faustus to be less versed in the
liberal arts than he had expected him to be. If this was the best Manichaeism
had to offer, there was no use remaining an adherent. Augustine became dis-
satisfied with the Manichaean faith altogether.
Secondly, the Manichaean bishop deserves particularly attention, be-
cause he himself at one point published a work called Capitula. This work
has been preserved in one of Augustine’s writings: the very extensive Con-
tra Faustum Manichaeum in 33 books. The work Capitula itself is one of
the more extensive writings of Western Manichaeism that have come down
to us. Augustine relates that the work fell into the hands of some of his
(Catholic Christian) ‘brethren’. They asked their bishop to reply to the work,
since it spoke against ‘correct Christian faith and Catholic truth.’6 Augustine
consented and refuted the work chapter by chapter, first quoting Faustus’
text in full. The Capitula thus enable us to complement the image of Faus-
tus that emerges from the Confessiones considerably. The work can also be
used to reconstruct the message of a fourth century Manichaean bishop in
its context, namely the historical context of a threatened gnostic Church.
6 c. Faust. 1.1.
7 Albert Bruckner, Faustus von Mileve: Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des abendländischen
Manichäismus, Basel: Friedrich Reinhardt 1901.
8 Bruckner saw Manichaeism essentially as a non-Christian religion. He believed Mani
himself had little contact with Christianity. More than hundred years later, this view is highly
debated. Historians of religion and Patristic scholars, among others, view Manichaeism more
and more as a Christian current in its own right.
202 gijs martijn van gaans
pointed out that only Matthew relates these words. Yet Matthew had himself
not been present when Jesus uttered them. At that time Jesus had not even
chosen Matthew as one of his disciples. The apostle John was present, but
his gospel does not mention these or similar words. So, Faustus concluded,
as ‘ein gewandter Advokat nach diesem Zeugenverhör’, that the authenticity
of Mt 5:17 is doubtful.10
The Manichaean bishop provided an additional argument. Mt 9:9 relates
the moment when Matthew became an apostle. It does so by using the
third person, instead of the first (“And as Jesus passed forth from thence,
he saw a man, named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom: and he
said unto him, Follow me. And he arose, and followed him.”). Based on this
verse, Faustus argued that Matthew could not have written the entire gospel
himself. He therefore rejected Mt 5:17 as genuine words of Jesus (c. Faust.,
17.1).11 Even the Pauline Letters did not escape Faustus’ exegetical criticism.
Bruckner states that he also rejected Rom. 1:3, 1 Tim. 4:1–3 and Titus 1:15,
among others.12
Faustus’ Manichaeism
Writing decades before the important discovery of Manichaean texts in
1929, Bruckner’s knowledge of Manichaeism was obviously limited. Never-
theless he recognized some distinct Manichaean theological ideas in the
Capitula: the myth of the two principles (c. Faust. 20.2) and a Manichaean
belief in the Trinity. In his Trinitarian concept of God, Faustus equated the
Almighty Father, the unspeakable light, with the principle of good. The Son
Christ is equated with the second, visible Light. The Holy Spirit is believed to
have impregnated the earth and thereby brought forth the ‘Suffering Jesus’
(Iesus patibilis). According to Bruckner though, this Jesus seems to have
been a Fremdkörper in Faustus’ ideas: the Manichaean bishop does not seem
to have integrated this concept of Jesus into his theology.13
Bruckner argues that Faustus taught a docetic view of the crucifixion. The
Manichaean polemicist recognized a twofold Jesus: the son of Mary and the
Son of God. They were united at Jesus’ baptism (c. Faust. 12.1). However, the
earthly and the heavenly Jesus somehow remained separated. The Son of
God clothed himself with the son of Mary and eventually did not suffer on
10 Ibidem, 52.
11 Ibidem, 52–53.
12 Ibidem, 60.
13 Ibidem, 20–21.
204 gijs martijn van gaans
14 Ibidem, 59–60.
15 Ibidem, 47.
16 Paul Monceaux, Le Manichéen Faustus de Milev. Restitution de ses Capitula, Paris: Impri-
2. After 1929
19 Ibidem, 24.
20 François Decret, Aspects du manichéisme dans l’Afrique romain. Les controverses de
Fortunatus, Faustus et Felix avec saint Augustin, Paris: Études Augustiniennes 1970.
21 Ibidem, 61.
22 Faustus was denounced a Manichaean in 385/386 and as such was banished to an island
(c. Faust. 20.1) and limits the expansions of God. When this acceptance of the
two principles led to charges of polytheism, Faustus rejected these sharply;
Manichaeans only accepted the principle of Good as God.25
Why did Faustus remain comparatively vague on these issues, especially
compared to Felix and Fortunatus? The Catholics labelled Manichaean
myth as superstition. Considering that Manichaeans stressed their reliance
on reason, Faustus might have wanted to avoid this accusation by not dis-
cussing the issue in great detail. It is also possible that his rank as a bishop
made him more prudent in these matters. Decret, however, provides
another hypothesis, one that does not exclude the former two: the Capit-
ula were not acta of an open debate. In such debates skilled opponents, like
Augustine, would have forced Faustus to discuss his convictions more thor-
oughly. They would subsequently have characterized these ideas as incredi-
ble fables, thereby disproving the reasonable nature of Manichaeism. Since
Faustus probably wrote his work in a less demanding setting, he was able to
remain relatively silent on this subject.26
Decret argues that in c. Faust. 24.1 Faustus discussed the creation of man.
With reference to Eph 4.22–24 Faustus distinguished between two types of
men, each with his own birth. The first is the earthly man, whose carnal birth
is caused by the forces of Darkness. The second type of man is the ‘internal
celestial man’, who is created by the forces of Good in a second birth. Faustus
viewed this second birth as a liberation, which ‘consiste à nous initier à la
foi, dans le Christ Jésus, par l’Esprit-Saint, sous l’enseignement des hommes
de bien.’27
Faustus’s soteriology was clearly Manichaean: salvation meant the lib-
eration of the divine particles from matter and their return to the spiri-
tual realm of the Father. These particles had been dispersed in the mate-
rial world. In Faustus’ work this soteriology was closely connected to his
Christology. The Manichaean bishop accepted Jesus as the spiritual Christ—
which Decret equates with the Iesus patibilis—who came to bring the mes-
sage of salvation to those partes dei. He accepted Christ as the Word, the Son
of God (c. Faust. 2.1). He came from the Father alone and had therefore no
terrestrial parents. Hence, Faustus could never accept the birth stories in the
Gospels.28 Jesus in his view had never been born in the flesh, but remained
a purely spiritual being. He never became mixed with matter, which is the
25 Ibidem, 198–199.
26 Ibidem, 244–245.
27 Ibidem, 259.
28 Ibidem, 280.
208 gijs martijn van gaans
principle of Darkness. Because the Son of God had never been truly born,
he could never have actually died. Therefore his suffering could never have
been corporeal, only mystical.29
Mani also played a significant role in Faustus’ soteriological thoughts. He
is called ‘the theologian’ (c. Faust. 20.3) and ‘the teacher’ (c. Faust. 19.5). He
is considered to be the Paraclete, promised by Christ himself, to reveal the
entire Truth (Jn 16:15; c. Faust. 32.6).30 This Truth entailed a consciousness
(gnosis) of man’s forgotten divine origin. Thus Mani’s teachings provoke an
anamnēsis of this divine nature in all the faithful, thereby bringing about a
metanoia.
Salvation does not lie in this gnosis alone; man needs to follow moral
commandments as well. Faustus considered Jesus’ Beatitudes to be both
the central message of the gospel and the basis of his own ascetic lifestyle
(c. Faust. 5.3).31 The moral obligations—continence and the prohibition of
drinking wine and eating meat—are those of the Manichaean Elect. These
electi then become the most rigorous followers of Christ’s teachings.
Manichaean gnosis
Eight years later Decret published L’Afrique manichéene (IV e–V e siècles).
Étude historique et doctrinale.32 In this two-volume work he studied Faustus’
concept of gnosis more closely. Manichaeans juxtaposed their critical stance
in religious maters to the blind faith of their Catholic opponents. To prove
that this stance was justifiably Christian, Faustus referred to the story of
the apostle Thomas. In doubt Thomas was not spurned or simply told to
believe, but was given proof of the resurrection (Jn 20.27; c. Faust. 16.8).
However, in Manichaeism knowledge depended on gnosis, not on discursive
and rational thought. Texts like The Fundamental Epistle seem to present this
gnosis as the fundamental ‘science’ on which all true knowledge is based.
Faustus believed that truth is attained by meditation and contemplation,
not by ‘scientific methods.’33 One may take Faustus’ doubts on Mt 5.17 as
an example (see above). Through rational analysis of this locus Faustus
29 Ibidem, 285.
30 Although Mani is not mentioned specifically, Decret believes he is referred to: ‘Certes,
le nom de Mani n’est pas cité, mais « le bienheureux père » est clairement désigné par le rôle
qu’il a assumé.’ Ibidem, 286.
31 Ibidem, 286–289.
32 François Decret, L’Afrique manichéene (IV e–V e siècles). Étude historique et doctrinale,
accepted only the Jewish Christians as the true Christians, because they
accepted the entire Law. Faustus therefore once thought of joining the
Jewish-Christian community (c. Faust. 19.5) The Manichaea fides however
taught him that this text had been corrupted (c. Faust. 18.3). Thus, truth is
not attained by rational thinking but through Manichaean fides and gnosis.
In c. Faust. 32.6 Faustus cited Jn 16.15 as proof for his view of the Paraclete.
The Manichaean bishop seems to have used a codex that mentioned the
verb inducere to describe the Paraclete’s mission. He is said to ‘lead you into
all truth and he will proclaim to you all things and remind you of them’. It was
the Paraclete who would initiate into gnosis. The verb inducere renders Jn
16.15 the perfect justification for the initiative character of the Manichaean
Church. Faustus furthermore claimed that one becomes a disciple into the
faith of Christ through the Holy Spirit and through the teachings of wise
men (c. Faust. 24.1). The Latin text uses discipulati, which can be translated
as ‘become disciples’. Decret however chose to translate it as ‘nous sommes
initiés’ (we are initiated). In this translation, the Holy Spirit becomes the
power that initiates us. Manichaeans would have understood this as an
initiation into the gnosis of our divine nature.34 Faustus saw in Mani the
‘grand promoteur de la Gnose.’ It was he in his role as the Paraclete who
revealed the principles of Good and evil and men’s divine origin.
34 Ibidem, 272.
35 ‘Favstvs 2’, in André Mandouze (ed.), Prosopographie chrétienne du Bas-Empire. 1: Proso-
pographie de l’Afrique chrétienne (303–533), Paris: Éditions du Centre National de la Recher-
che Scientifique 1982, 390–396.
210 gijs martijn van gaans
36 François Decret, ‘Le dogme fondamental des deux principes selon Faustus de Milev’
(1991) in: idem, Essais sur l’Église manichéenne en Afrique du Nord et à Rome au temps de saint
Augustin, Rome: Institutum Patristicum Augustinianum 1995, 147–158.
37 Decret believes these two capitula were somehow reversed in Augustine’s Contra Faus-
tum. ‘L’ordre des deux capitula paraît ainsi avoir été inversé dans le classement donné par
Augustin dans son Contra Faustum’. François Decret, ‘Le dogme manichéen’, 155.
the manichaean bishop faustus 211
41 Ibidem, 1248.
42 Gregor Wurst, ‘Bemerkungen zu Struktur und genus litterarium der Capitula des Faus-
tus de Mileve’ in: Johannes van Oort, Otto Wermelinger & Gregor Wurst (eds.), Augustine
and Manichaeism in the Latin West. Proceedings of the Fribourg-Utrecht Symposium of the
International Association of Manichaean Studies (IAMS), Leiden-Boston-Köln: Brill 2001 (repr.
Leiden-Boston: Brill 2012), 307–324.
43 Ibidem, 310–311.
the manichaean bishop faustus 213
The Kephalaia and the Capitula both belonged to a popular genre in Late
Antiquity, the so-called Quaestiones et Responsiones or Erotapokriseis-liter-
ature. This genre is characterized by a dialogue in which the questions are
only short and the emphasis is on the substantially longer answer. Yet, Wurst
argues, the title of Capitula or Kephalaia seems to have been limited to
Manichaean literature.
44 Ibidem, 313–318.
45 Ibidem, 320.
214 gijs martijn van gaans
Wurst thus concludes that Contra Faustum retained the original sequence
of Faustus’ Capitula. It was not Faustus’ intention to structure his work
logically. The genre of the Erotapokriseis did not expect him to do so. Faustus
only employed a loosely thematic arranging principle, as shown in c. Faust.
2–11 and 12–17.
46 J.A. van den Berg, Biblical Argument in Manichaean Missionary Practice. The Case of
48 Ibidem, 48.
49 Ibidem, 181–184.
216 gijs martijn van gaans
50Ibidem, 208.
51Alban Massie, Peuple prophétique et nation témoin. Le peuple juif dans le Contra Faustum
manichaeum de saint Augustin, Paris: Institut d’Études Augustiniennes 2011.
the manichaean bishop faustus 217
my works’) and Mt 7:16 (‘grapes are never harvested from thorns or figs from
thistles’) to support this claim. A prophet’s truthfulness is sufficiently proven
through his works; it becomes apparent in his uita honesta, prudentia et
uirtus (c. Faust. 12.1). Jesus’ life could indeed be described as honourable,
wise and virtuous. The Old Testament prophets and patriarchs on the other
hand had failed to live such a life. Therefore they are to be considered fruits
of the bad tree, which is the Hebrew God.56 They can not be accepted as
prophets of Truth.
Faustus demonstrated, for example, that Moses lacked the prudentia of a
prophet. In Dt 21:23 Moses had cursed Christ by referring to the crucifixion
(‘Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree’). By cursing the Son he proved he
could never have known the Father and therefore lacked the prudentia of a
true prophet.57 In Massie’s view this lack is significant, since prudentia was
accepted as a cardinal virtue in the fourth century. Jesus on the other hand
had proven himself to be a wise prophet.
In order to distinguish the Hebrew and pagan prophets on the one hand
from the prophets of Truth on the other, Faustus provided a tripartite taxon-
omy. Departing from Rm 2:14–15 and 8:2 he distinguished three types of law:
the Law of the Hebrews, which Paul calls ‘the Law of sin and death’; the law
of the gentiles, which is identified as the natural law; and the Law of Truth.
Subsequently, he discerns three types of prophets: the Hebrew prophets; the
pagan prophets (like the Sybil or Hermes Trismegistos); and the prophets of
Truth (c. Faust. 19:2).58 Within this taxonomy the Law of Light is superior, the
Law of the Hebrews inferior. In c. Faust. 12.1 the Hebrew prophets are nega-
tively qualified as uates (seers), a term which also refers to pagan priests.
Manichaean prophetology argued that prophets of Truth invoke the Man-
ichaean gnosis—the discernment of the two principles, their mixture and
on-going combat, and their unavoidable final separation. Faustus provided
additional criteria to distinguish true from false prophets. The attainment of
this saving gnosis results in uita honesta, prudentia et uirtus. A true prophet
can be recognized not only by his teachings, but by his life and works as
well. Faustus’ Jesus had proven to be a prophet of Truth. Not only did he live
a moral, wise and virtuous life (c. Faust., 12.1), his teachings were in accord
with Manichaean teachings.
In the Capitula, Faustus based his emphasis on a moral lifestyle on the
New Testament, not on Manichaean writings. He employed Paul’s scheme
56 Ibidem, 110–112.
57 Ibidem, 121–122.
58 Ibidem, 70–71.
the manichaean bishop faustus 219
of the two births as mentioned in Rm 6:6 and Eph 4:22–24 to juxtapose the
physical birth with the celestial one (c. Faust. 24.1). Our natural birth encap-
sulates our soul, a pars dei in matter (hylē) and is therefore caused by the
forces of Darkness. The Manichaean gnosis brought forth by the principle
of Light induces our second, spiritual birth. Referring to Col 3:9–10 (‘Strip
off the old man with his actions, and put on the new, who is being renewed
in the knowledge of God in accordance with the image of him who created
him in you’), Faustus argued that this second birth has ethical consequences.
The anamnēsis of the two principles, their mixed state and our divine ori-
gin, makes man follow the ethical standards of the Manichaean electi. Those
Manichaean Elect thereby become the missionaries of this gnosis, through
both their teachings and moral behaviour.
Faustus accepted Christ’s euangelium as a mandatum, an instruction for
conduct. This mandatum is encapsulated in Jesus’ Beatitudes and contra-
dicts the Law of Moses (c. Faust. 5.1).59 The Hebrew prophets that had fol-
lowed the Law can not be accepted as prophets of Truth. Not only was their
life immoral, but their teachings (the Law) were completely disparate from
the message of Light as well.
59 Ibidem, 128–129.
60 Ibidem, 129.
220 gijs martijn van gaans
(‘I will raise up for them from among their brothers a prophet like you’) and
28:66LXX (‘They will see their own life hanging and will not believe’). Since
these verses do not explicitly name Christ, they should be rejected as proof
for the idea that he is foretold by the Old Testament. Again the Manichaean
bishop argued that the tradition (traditio) of Moses is very dissimilar from
that of Christ. If someone believes in one of them, he would necessarily
reject the other.
In his polemic Faustus showed an understanding of Catholic prophetic
argument as well as an extensive knowledge of the Old Testament. His
criticism of both the Old Testament prophets and Catholic Christology are
based on Scriptural arguments from both Testaments. When he discussed
his own faith he made use of Pauline language. The epistles of the apostle
play a significant part in the Capitula.61 Faustus’ faith seems to have been
based on the clear notion of gnosis as described above. In this, Faustus
clearly accepts the Pauline distinction of the two births and the two men.
Only the second birth is man’s initiation in the truth, since it is the work
of the Holy Spirit.62 His tripartite taxonomy itself is mostly derived from his
reading of Paul’s letter to the Romans. This language, according to Massie,
is more than a captatio beneuolentiae, a polemic tool to win over Catholics:
it is his own religious language. St Paul is an important source for Faustus’
Manichaean theology.
61 Ibidem, 135–139.
62 Ibidem, 186.
the manichaean bishop faustus 221
been amoral. It also unmasked their God, whose promises were carnal.
Yahweh should therefore be equated with hylē, the principle of Darkness.
Because Catholics did not straightforwardly reject this ‘Jewish superstition’,
Faustus accused them of being only semichristiani.
63 Jason David BeDuhn, ‘A Religion of Deeds: Scepticism in the doctrinally liberal Mani-
chaeism of Faustus and Augustine’ in: idem (ed.), New Light on Manichaeism. Papers from the
Sixth International Congress on Manichaeism, NHMS 64, Leiden-Boston: Brill 2009, 1–28.
64 Jason David BeDuhn, Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma. 1: Conversion and Apostasy,
71 Ibidem, 9.
72 BeDuhn, Augustine’s Manichaean Dilemma, 126.
73 Johannes van Oort, ‘Manichaean Christians in Augustine’s Life and Work’, Church
More than one hundred years of scholarship have enlarged our insights in
the Manichaean bishop Faustus and his Capitula. Especially the recovery
80 J. Kevin Coyle, ‘The Gospel of Thomas in Manichaeism?’ in: idem, Manichaeism and Its
Charinus’ in: Wilhelm Schneemelcher (ed.), New Testament Apocrypha. Volume Two: Writ-
ings Related to the Apostles; Apocalypses and Related Subjects, revised edition, translated from
German by R. McL. Wilson, Cambridge and Louisville: James Clark & Co and Westminster
John Knox Press 1993.
226 gijs martijn van gaans
82 Peter Nagel at least recognizes the use of the Acts of Paul in c. Faust. 30.4 and the Acts of
Peter in c. Faust. 14.1. P. Nagel, ‘Die Apokryphen des 2. und 3. Jahrhunderts in der manichäis-
chen Literatur. Ein Beitrag zur Frage nach den christlichen Elementen im Manichäismus’ in:
K.-W. Tröger (ed.), Gnosis und Neues Testament: Studien aus Religionswissenschaft und The-
ologie, Gütersloh: Mohn 1973, 149–182.
83 Acta Archelai 62.3; Panarion 66.2.9; Tardieu, Manichaeism, translated from the French
by M.B. DeBeviose, Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press 2008, 49–50.
the manichaean bishop faustus 227
De ordine, XI, XII, 9–11, 51, 53–57, 60, Bennet, Camille, 60, 69
62–63, 65, 67–69, 98–99, 101 Berg, Jacob Albert van den, XI, 14, 19, 20, 21,
De pulchro et apto, 110, 112, 115, 117, 121, 127 22, 24, 26, 28, 29, 30, 32, 34, 35, 37, 38, 49,
De quantitate animae, 10, 11 70, 73, 135, 137, 138, 140, 141, 142, 156, 200,
De utilitate credendi, X, 4, 7, 12, 94, 214–216, 226
99–105, 149, 162 Beukers, C., 177, 196
De vera religione, XI, XIII, 11, 55, 98–99, Bhavishya Purana, 76
103, 137–153 Bibliothèque Nationale (Paris), 194
De vita beata, 4, 9, 10, 53, 55–56, 67, 83, Bickerman, Elias, 178, 194
88, 152 Böhlig, Alexander, 60, 77, 159, 161, 163, 167,
Enarrationes in Psalmos, 166 169, 188, 190, 191, 194, 196
Epistula 147 (De videndo Deo), 84–85 Boulding, Maria, 8, 119, 130, 134
Epistulae, IX, 3, 11, 84, 85, 95, 99, 105, 145, Bouton-Touboulic, Anne-Isabelle, 54, 69
150 Boyce, Mary, 151
Expositio quarundam propositionum ex Brachtendorf, Johannes, 90, 101, 110, 113, 114,
epistula apostoli ad Romanos, 99 134
Retractationum libri II, 11, 21, 84, 97, 101, Braun, Oskar, 179, 194
104, 105, 137, 139, 146, 150, 152, 205, 206, Brennan, T.C., 41, 48
213 Breytenbach, Cilliers, 40, 49
Sermones, IX, 84 Brinkmann, August, 190, 194
Soliloquies, 9, 11, 98 Brisson, Luc, 4
Tractatus in Iohannis Evangelium, 101 Brock, Sebastian P., 179, 194
/Possidius, Indiculum, 139 Broemser, F., 87, 88
Äzrua, 75 Brown, Peter, IX, 2, 41, 48
Bruckner, Albert, 201–204, 205, 211, 219, 225
Babylonia, 193 Buddha, the, 16, 75
Bachelard, M., 44, 48 Buitendag, Johan, XIV
Bagnall, Roger S., 189, 194 Buonaiuti, Ernesto, 155
Baker-Brian, N., 142 Burkert, Walter, 63, 69
Baltussen, H., 146 Burleigh, J.H.S., 7
Bammel, Caroline P., 53, 69 Busirides, 105
Bardaisan, Liber legum regionum, 179
Bardaisanites, 179 Caecilius, 101
Bardy, G., 44, 48 Cairo, 199
Barth, Fredrik, 45, 48 Capitula (Capitulum), see Faustus
Basilidians, 178 Carneades, 222, 227
Bassa (Manichaean), 188 Carthage, 3, 19, 34, 52, 79, 94, 111–113, 115, 120,
Bathsheba, 27 121, 145, 146, 200
Bauer, J.B., 49 Casati, Giuseppe, 60, 69
Bauer, Walter, 179, 194 Cassiciacum, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58
Beatitudes (of the Sermon on the Mount), Catholic passim
96, 202, 208, 219, 222 Chadwick, Henry, 83, 85, 160, 164, 165
Beck, Edmund, 179, 194 Chelius, Karl Heinz, 91
Beck, R., 79 Chidester, David, 62, 69
Bedjan, Paul, 179, 194 Choat, Malcolm, 195
BeDuhn, Jason David, XI, 1, 7, 9, 14, 18, 32, 35, Christ passim
38, 41, 46, 47, 48, 49, 52, 53, 54, 55, 61, 63, Cicero, 3, 4, 6, 8, 55, 56, 67, 68, 87, 88, 89, 90,
64, 65, 68, 69, 73, 78, 82, 92, 108, 109, 111, 91, 93, 97, 99, 101, 102, 111, 143, 144, 147, 148,
134, 139, 140, 146, 147, 149, 157, 165, 200, 150, 155, 167, 169, 172, 221–222, 224, 226,
221–223, 224, 226 227
Beloved of the Lights, 80 De finibus, 68, 148
Bennett, Byard, 142 De legibus, 56
index 231
Finan, T., 8 Hebrew, Hebrews, 23, 28, 31, 32, 33, 42, 44,
First Man, 77, 81 165, 179, 215, 218, 219, 220
Fischer, N., 134 Henning, Walter Bruno, 76, 193, 195
Fitzgerald, Allan D., 211 Henrichs, A., X
Flower, H.I., 41, 48 Henry, P., 83
Föllinger, S., 70 Hermanowicz, E.T., 139
Förster, G., 139 Hermes Trismegistos, 10, 218
Fortunatus, XI, 3, 6, 14, 15, 93, 140, 141, 147, Hippo Regius, 1, 2, 52, 174, 200, 210
182–183, 184, 188, 200, 205, 206, 207 Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel, 43, 44
Fragmenta Tabestina, X, 96–97, 149 Historia Monachorum in Aegypto, 151
France, IX Hoffmann, Andreas, XII, 87, 92, 94, 100, 101,
Franzmann, Majella, XII, 35, 37, 38, 40, 46, 102, 103, 105, 137, 141, 143, 200
47, 49, 195 Holl, K., 160
Fredouille, J.-C., 139 Holy Spirit, see Spirit
Fredriksen, Paula, 15 Homilies (Manichaean), X, 5, 80, 189, 191, 199
Fuhrer, Therese, XII, 5, 51, 52, 54, 55, Honoratus, 2, 94, 99, 102
56, 57, 60, 64, 66, 70, 90, 98, 100, 101, Horion (Manichaean), 41
145 Horn, Chr., 90, 98
Funk, Wolf-Peter, 77, 189, 190, 193, 195 Horst, Pieter W. van der, 155, 190, 195
Hortensius, see under Cicero
Gaans, Gijs Martijn van, XIII Hosea, 27
Gabriab (Manichaean missionary), 76 Houghton, H.A.G., 20
Galatians, Letter to the, 14, 22, 23, 44 Hübner, W., 139
Gardner, Iain M.F., XII, 39, 49, 73, 74, 75, Hunter, Erica, X
78, 80, 82, 142, 143, 144, 151, 167, 168, 169, Hutter, Manfred, 60, 70
170, 171, 172, 182, 188, 190, 191, 193, 194, Hyle, 61, 62, 186, 206, 219, 221
195, 199
Gasparro, Giulia Sfameni, 140, 200 Iamblichus, Mysteries, 148
Gavrilyuk, Paul L., 169 Iran, Iranian, X, 193
Geerlings, Wilhelm, 138 Iricinschi, Eduard, 195
Genesis, Book of, 18, 27, 28, 63, 85, 157, 159 Isaac, 25, 26, 27, 206
Georges, Tobias, 150 Isaiah, Book of, 42
Gharib, B., 193, 195 Islam, 181
Gibb, John, 160 Ismant el-Kharab (see also Kellis), 188, 189
Gigon, O., 87, 88 Israel, 26, 29
Giversen, S., 78 Italica (Christian widow), 85
Gnostic, Gnosticism, 34, 44, 60, 93, 155, 159, Italy, Italian, 141, 155
164, 166, 201
God, see Father (God the) Jacob, 25, 26, 27, 206
Graffin, R., 195 Jerusalem, 44
Great Builder, 80 Jesus passim
Grilli, Albertus, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91 Jesus patibilis, 203, 207, 224
Grote, A., 139 Jesus-the-Splendour, 210, 217
Guillou, A., 194, 195 John, First and Second Letter to, 84
Gulácsi, Zsuzsanna, 165 John, Gospel according to, 23, 24, 43, 92, 130,
132, 148, 158, 161, 190, 203, 208, 209, 217,
Hadot, Pierre, 4 219, 225
Hagar, 27 Jonas, Hans, 60
Händel, P., 135 Judah (patriarch), 27
Harnack, Adolf von, 33, 35, 146 Judaism, Jewish, 12, 21, 81, 148, 151, 152, 184
Harrison, G., 149 Jewish-Christianity, X
Hartney, Christopher, 195 Julia (Manichaean), 180
index 233
Psalm Book (Manichaean), X, 42, 43, 159, 160, Schneemelcher, Wilhelm, 225
161, 162, 164, 166, 167, 173, 189, 191, 192, 193, Schwartz, Eduard, 160
199 Scibona, Concetta Giuffré, 140, 141
Psalms of the Bema, 161 Scopello, Madeleine, 38, 49, 73, 135, 200
Psalms, Book of, 17, 42, 57, 59, 62, 63, 64, 85, Scott, D., 76
108, 127, 129, 130, 131, 132, 158, 160, 161, 166, Secundinus, XI, 6, 95, 97, 104, 137, 140, 141,
179 142, 143, 144, 149, 156, 159, 180, 181–182, 183,
Punic, 144 184, 188, 200
Punt, J., 40, 49 Epistula, 95, 142, 143, 144, 149, 182
Pyramus, 58 Seleucid era, 178, 179
Pythagoras, 4, 10, 67, 111 Semsch, Klaus, 63, 71
Seneca, 91, 100, 111
Quaestiones et Responsiones-literature (cf. Ad Lucilium, 100
Erotapokriseis), 213, 216 De ira, 91
Quispel, Gilles, 155 Septuagint/LXX, 28, 161, 220
Sermon of the Great War (Manichaean), 80
Räisänen, H., 33, 35 Sermon on the Mount, 96, 222
Ratzinger, Joseph, 5, 6, 53 Seth, 33
Reeves, J.C., 74, 77 Sheldon, J.S., 78
Revelation, Book of, 81 Short, Charles, 143
Roman Empire (see also Rome), 3, 47, 179, Simplicianus, 2, 15, 78, 81
214 Simplicius, In Epicteti encheiridion, 78
Romanianus, XIII, 2, 56, 64, 144–146, 148, 149, Smagina, E., 82
150, 152, 153 Socrates, 8, 139
Romans, Letter to the, 14, 15, 63, 79, 84, 164, Sogdia, Sogdian, 39, 74, 75, 76, 193
203, 218, 219, 220 Solignac, Aimé, 4
Rome (see also Roman Empire), 9, 52, 79, Solomon, 27
150, 172, 183, 209 Song of the Lovers (see also Amatorium
Romeny, Bas ter Haar, 179, 196 canticum), 165
Römer, Cornelia, 138, 144, 149, 151 South Africa, XIV
Rotelle, John E., 134 Speigl, J., 151
Rufinus, 150 Spencer, R.F., 46, 49
Historia Monachorum, 151 Spirit, Holy (see also Living Spirit and
Rutzenhöfer, Elke, 15 Paraclete), 82, 134, 168, 203, 209, 220
Starnes, Colin, 110, 113, 114, 124, 125, 132, 133,
Sabbath, 26, 27, 28, 202, 214 135
Sachau, E.C., 77 Starr, J., 135
Salona, 188 Stead, G. Christopher, 169
Satan, 77 Steenkamp, Yolande, XIV
Saturnilians, 178 Steidle, W., 110, 112, 122, 123, 135
Saturnus, 27, 28 Stein, M., 95, 96, 97, 137, 138, 149
Scepticism, Academic, 7–9, 223 Stellenbosch, 156
Scepticism, Augustine’s, 9 Stoic, Stoics, 67, 91, 169
Scepticism, Cicero’s, 221 Straume-Zimmermann, 87, 88, 89, 90
Scepticism, Manichaean, 221, 223 Strecker, Georg, 194
Schaeder, Hans Heinrich, 186, 196 Stump, E., 169
Schäfer, Christian, 54, 55, 60, 71 Sundermann, Werner, 41, 49
Schäferdiek, Kurt, 225 Swancutt, D.M., 135
Schiller, Isabella, IX Sybil, the, 218
Schlapbach, K., 88 Symmachians (= Nazareans), 185
Schmidt, Carl, 189, 196 Synaxeis of the Living Gospel, 199
Schnaubelt, J.C., 135 Syzygos, 160
236 index