The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism: A New Proposal

by Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

While Docetism is well-known as one of the major early Christian “her-

esies”, its origins remain very much in the dark. Remarkably little has
been written on these origins, on which there is no scholarly consensus.
While some search in the direction of Hellenic thought, others look for
the roots of the phenomenon on Judaic soil1.
Many of the doctrines usually identified (rather vaguely) as “Gnostic”
also reflect a Docetic attitude2. Docetism, however, is by no means identical
to Gnosticism. In modern scholarly parlance, “Docetism” does not refer
to any clearly definable sect, but rather to an attitude, shared by various
individuals and movements at the origins of Christianity. Despite the dearth
of evidence, one cannot speak of a single, particular, sect of Docetists. A
fortiori, it is impossible to refer to one precise body of Docetic beliefs. A
similar caution as that recently recommended by Michael Williams about
seeing Gnosticism as a stable, historically and theologically well-defined
movement should be used with the construct of “Docetism”3. In other
words, “Docetism” does no more than “Gnosticism” represent a fixed
set of doctrines. Rather, it reflects a theological option revealed in a wide
variety of early Christian texts. It seems, then, that one is dealing with a
series of groups holding similar beliefs, and retaining between them what
Wittgenstein called “family resemblances”. These groups flourished mainly
in the second and third centuries.

1
This introduction follows closely some points of G.G. Stroumsa, Christ’s Laughter: Do-
cetic Origins Reconsidered, Journal of Early Christian Studies 12, 2004, 267-288. See
in particular N. Brox, “Doketismus” – eine Problemanzeige, ZKG 95, 1984, 301-314
and J.G. Davies, The Origins of Docetism, StPatr 6 (= TU 81), 1962, 13-35. We should
like to thank Margalit Finkelberg for making a useful comment upon reading a draft of
this paper.
2
See for instance K.W. Tröger, Doketistische Christologie in Nag-Hammadi-Texten, Kairos
19, 1977, 45-52.
3
See M.A. Williams, Rethinking “Gnosticism”. An Argument for Dismantling a Dubious
Category, Princeton 1996. Williams makes a convincing case for questioning the heuristic
value of the concept of Gnosticism.

ZAC, vol. 10, pp. 423-441 DOI 10.1515/ZAC.2006.032

© Walter de Gruyter 2007
424 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

“Docetic” doctrines probably date from the first Christian century, as it

is against such doctrines that the author of 1 and 2 John, for instance,
seems to argue4. The abstract noun dÒkhsij, however, is only found in
Clement of Alexandria, Stromateis5. According to Clement, Docetism is
related to those who claim that birth is evil, and is therefore upheld by
Julius Cassianus, the father of encratism, as well as by Marcion and Val-
entinus, for whom Christ’s body was psychic. The developed character of
Valentinus’ doctrines, and in particular his complex conception of Christ,
is probably responsible for the commonly held view that Docetism owes its
rejection of the physical body to the influence of the Platonic negation of
matter. Around 190 C.E., Serapion of Antioch, a contemporary of Clem-
ent, identifies with the term dokhta… a particular group, who transmitted
the Evangelium Petri6. According to Irenaeus, moreover, Cerinthus taught
that Christ descended upon Jesus at the time of baptism and went back to
heaven after the crucifixion7, while Marcion thought that Christ ascended
to the Pleroma before suffering, and had passed through the body of his
mother “as water through a tube”8. Irenaeus further tells us that Marcion
and others held that Jesus “was a man merely in appearance”9. It should be
noted that Irenaeus never refers to the holders of such views as “Docetists”
(dokhta…), a term available to Serapion and Clement only a few years later.
In the early third century, moreover, in the Refutatio omnium haeresium,
attributed to Hippolytus, a whole chapter is devoted to the refutation of
the doctrines of heretics who call themselves dokhta…10.
Seeking to offer a taxonomy of three different kinds of Docetic attitudes,
Georg Strecker has proposed to distinguish between three different claims:
the one according to which Simon of Cyrene was the substitute of Jesus
on the cross (a claim made by Basilides, at least according to Irenaeus11),
the one affirming that Christ left Jesus just before his death on the cross
(according to Cerinthus, and the Evangelium Petri12), and, finally, the claim
4
See for instance G. Strecker, Commentary on the Johannine Letters, Hermeneia, 1995,
69-77. See in particular 2 John 1,7.
5
Clem., str. III 17,102.
6
In his letter to the people of Rhossos; see Eus., h.e. VI 12,6 (GCS Eusebius II/2, 546,4
Schwartz/Mommsen): oÞj Dokht¦j kaloàmen; transl.: Eusebius, The Ecclesiastical History,
vol. 2, with an English translation by J.E.L. Oulton, LCL 265, London 1957, 42f.
7
Iren., haer. II 24,4.
8
Iren., haer. III 11,3: quasi aquam per tubum (SC 211, 146,19f. Rousseau/Doutreleau) /
kaq£per Ûdwr di¦ swlÁnoj (147,64f. R./D.); cf. Iren., haer. III 16,1; III 22,1f.; see also
Iren., haer. I 7,2 where the same expression is used in reference to Ptolemy’s doctrine. It
seems that Valentinus’ disciple Ptolemy (cf. Iren., haer. I 6,2) and not Valentinus spoke
about a “psychic body of Jesus”. We owe this remark to Zlatko Pleše.
9
Iren., haer. IV 33,2.5: pareret quasi homo (SC 100/2, 806,47 R./D.); fainÒmenoj æj
¥nqrwpoj (807,45 R./D.); see also Iren., haer. V 1,2.
10
Hipp., haer. VIII 6-11 (PTS 25, 323-330 Marcovich).
11
See note 40 below.
12
See J.W. McCant, The Gospel of Peter. Docetism Reconsidered, NTS 30, 1984, 258-273.
McCant’s conclusion that the Akhmim fragment “should not be considered docetic”
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 425

that Jesus Christ was indeed crucified, but did not suffer, and remained
impassibilis, as his nature is pneumatic (the claim of the Docetics fought
by Ignatius)13.
In all probability, the original core of Docetism did not lie in its Platonic
elements, which became apparent only at later stages, but in the rejection
of Jesus’s passion on the cross, “stumbling block (sk£ndalon) to Jews and
foolishness to Gentiles”, to use Paul’s terms (1 Cor 1,24). This rejection
must have come first, and only then were the Docetic attitudes broadened,
as it were, to include also incarnation, the idea of Christ having possessed
a body of flesh. It is only at a later stage, finally, that Docetism may have
influenced early Christian conceptions of martyrdom14. The following pages
will seek to shed new light on the origins of Docetism, through a fresh
look at Greek ways of dealing with mythological figures.

II

The Greek word e‡dwlon is polysemic. While it often means the phantom of
a dead person, it can also refer to the ethereal “double” of a living figure15.
Classical Greek literature offers various examples of such an e‡dwlon of
mythical figures. In the Iliad, for instance, Apollo seeks to protect Aeneas
from a dangerous battle by taking him away from the fighting to his temple
in Pergamon. Then the text reads:
But he of the silver bow, Apollo, fashioned an image (e‡dwlon) in the likeness
of Aineias himself and in armour like him, and all about this image brilliant
Achaians and Trojans hewed at each other, and at the ox-hide shields strong
circled [...]16.
In Odyssey XI, Ulysses is presented as seeing Herakles in Hades. It is
actually Herakles’s e‡dwlon who stands in front of him, as Herakles him-
self is dining with the immortal gods on Mount Olympus (Odyssey XI
601-604).
Similarly, we can find the e‡dwlon of a leading figure in a fragment of
Hesiod’s Catalogue:
reflects a rather limited and rigid conception of docetism. On the text, see New Testa-
ment Apocrypha. Revised edition of the Collection initiated by E. Hennecke, ed. by
W. Schneemelcher, English transl. edited by R. McL. Wilson, vol. 1, Cambridge 1991,
216-227.
13
Strecker, Commentary (see note 4), 72.
14
R.M. Grant, Gnostic Origins and the Basilidians of Irenaeus, VigChr 13, 1959, 121-
125.
15
See H. Kunz, Art. Eidolon, Der Neue Pauly 3; Stuttgart/Weimar 1997, 911. On the
question of the ‘double’ in Greek thought, see J.-P. Vernant, Figuration de l’invisible et
catégorie psychologique du double. Le colossos, in: Idem, Mythe et pensée chez les grécs,
vol. 2, Paris 1974, 65-78.
16
Hom., Il. V 449-452; transl.: The Iliad of Homer, translated with an introduction by
R. Lattimore, Chicago 1951, 140.
426 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

Iphimede the well-greaved Achaians slaughtered on the altar of famed [Artemis

of the golden arrows] on that day [when they sailed in their ships] to Ilion [to
exact] a penalty for the [slim-ankled] Argive woman, an e‡dwlon, that is. For
[Iphimede herself the huntress] showerer of arrows easily saved, and poured down
upon her head [lovely ambrosia, so that her flesh might be unchanging], and she
made her immortal and ageless all her days. And now the races of men upon the
earth call her Artemis of the wayside, [the attendant of the famous] showerer of
arrows17.

According to this passage, which deals with Iphigenia’s sacrifice in Aulis,

it is not Iphigenia (alias Iphimede) who is being sacrificed to the gods, but
rather her “double”, or e‡dwlon18. Iphimede herself remains well protected,
becoming a goddess.
In his second Pythian Ode, Pindar tells of Ixion’s forbidden love for
Hera, which ends in his rape of the goddess. But, adds Pindar, this rape
did not really happen, since it was a cloud, rather than the goddess, that
Ixion raped:
[…] Once in the great depths of her chambers
He made an attempt of Zeus’ wife. One must always
Measure everything by one’s own station.
Aberrant acts of love cast one into the thick
Of trouble; they came upon him too, because he
Lay with a cloud (™peˆ nefšlv parelšxato),
An ignorant man in pursuit of a sweet lie,
For it resembled in looks the foremost heavenly goddess,
Kronos’ daughter. Zeus’s wiles set it
As a snare for him, a beautiful affliction19.

A parallel to this story appears in a reference to a lost poem of Hesiod,

where the cloud (nefšlh), is explicitly identified with Hera’s e‡dwlon20.
According to tradition, the poet Stesichorus (floruit late 7th – early 6th
century), as we know from Plato’s Phaedrus, lost his eye-sight since he
had slandered Helen in a poem, accusing her of lewd behavior. He then
repented and wrote a second, revised version of his poem (Palinodia) ac-
cording to which Helen did not really go to Troy:

17
Fragmenta Hesiodea, ediderunt R. Merkelbach et M. West, Oxford 1967, 21-26, fragm.
23a; transl.: T. Gantz, Early Greek Myth, Baltimore and London 1996, 582f. For another
translation, see N. Austin, Helen of Troy and her Shameless Phantom, Ithaca/London,
1994, 107f. On this tradition see M.L. West, The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women. Its
Nature, Structure and Origins, Oxford 1985, 133-135; cf. Austin, Helen, 106-110; Gantz,
Greek Myth, 582-584.
18
Although the text is very fragmentary and much of this translation represents a re-
construction of the original text, the appearance of a double (e‡dwlon) of Iphimene is
not in doubt.
19
Pi., P. 2,32-40; transl.: Pindar, Olympian Odes, Pythian Odes, ed. and transl. by W.H. Race,
LCL 56, Cambridge (Massachusetts)/London 1997, 235.
20
Hes., fragm. 260: Schol. Ap. Rhod. D 58 (Merkelbach/West, Fragmenta [see note 17],
127). See further West, Catalogue (see note 17), 135 (note 25).
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 427

[…] and for those who have sinned in matters of mythology there is an ancient purifi-
cation, unknown to Homer, but known to Stesichorus. For when he was stricken with
blindness for speaking ill of Helen, he was not, like Homer, ignorant of the reason, but
since he was educated, he knew it and straightway he writes the poem:
“That saying is not true; thou didst not go within the well-oared ships, nor didst
thou come to the walls of Troy”.
And when he had written all the poem, which is called the recantation (palinJd…a),
he saw again at once21.

To a great extent, we are left in the dark on the contents of the lost Pa-
linode22. We do know from Plato, however, that it is not Helen herself,
but her e‡dwlon, who went to Troy:
[…] as Stesichorus says the wraith of Helen (tÕ tÁj `Elšnhj e‡dwlon) was fought
for at Troy through ignorance of the truth23.

Stesichorus’s new version of the story seems to have earned early fame,
and appears in full-fledged form in Euripides’s play entitled Helen24. The
play opens with a monologue of the real Helen, in Egypt. The heroin
describes the circumstances that brought her there. When Paris came to
Sparta to pick her up as his prize,
[…] Hera, annoyed that she did not defeat the other goddesses, made Alexandros’
union with me as vain as the wind: she gave to king Priam’s son not me but a breathing
image (e‡dwlon) she fashioned from the heavens to resemble me. He imagines – vain
imagination, that he has me, though he does not (kaˆ doke‹ m’œcein, ken¾n dÒkhsin, oÙk
œcwn) […]. And for the fight against the Trojans I was put forward for the Greeks
as a prize of war – though it was not me but only my name (™gë m{n oÜ, tÕ d’Ônoma
toÙmÒn).
So Hermes took me up within the recesses of the sky, hiding me in a cloud (for Zeus
had not forgotten me), and put me down at this house of Proteus, whom he judged the
most virtuous man on earth, so that I might keep my bed unsullied for Menelaus25.

21
Pl., Phdr. 243a-b; transl.: Plato, Eutyphro, Apolgy, Crito, Phaedo, Phaedrus, with an
English translation by H.N. Fowler, LCL 343, London/Cambridge (Massachusetts) 1964,
461.463.
22
See for instance J.A. Davison, Stesichorus and Helen, in: Idem, From Archilochus to
Pindar, London/Melbourne/Toronto/New York 1968, 196-225.
23
Pl., R. IX 586c; cf. uses of e‡dwlon in Pl., R. IX 587c-d; transl.: Plato, The Republic, with
an English translation by P. Shorey, vol. 2, books VI-X, LCL 276, London/Cambridge
(Massachusetts) 1963, 393.
24
For a full discussion of the relationship between Euripides’s Helen and Stesichorus’s
Palinode, see R. Kannicht (ed.), Euripides, Helena, WKLGS, vol. 1, Heidelberg 1969,
26-41. On the sources reflecting the version about Helen’s e‡dwlon and the development
of this tradition see: Gantz, Greek Myth (see note 17), 574f.; Austin, Helen (see note
17). For an Indian parallel, see W. Doniger, Splitting the Difference. Gender and Myth
in Ancient Greece and India, Chicago/London 1999, 8-87.
25
E., Hel. 31-48; transl.: D. Kovacs (ed.), Helen. Phoenician women, Orestes, LCL 11,
Cambridge (Massachusetts)/London 2002, 14-17. Later on in the play (E., Hel. 72-77),
Teucer (a Greek warrior), who had thought in Troy he was seeing Helen while he was
only seeing her e‡dwlon, when eventually meeting (the real) Helen in Egypt, does not
believe his eyes. He calls her a deadly image (fÒnion) and a double (m…mhma) of what he
thinks is the real Helen.
428 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

As has recently been shown by a number of scholars, the e‡dwlon func-

tions as a technical literary device in Greek literature, playing a role in
the revision of myths26. In particular, the use of the device appears quite
clearly in Stesichorus’s Palinodia. According to Plato, it is in order to
solve a theological problem that Stesichorus had told the story of Helen’s
e‡dwlon having gone to Troy with Paris. Had the real Helen accompanied
Paris, her behavior would have been unfit of a goddess. Stesichorus’s solu-
tion, indeed, seems to have come from a desire to protect the virtue of the
divinized Helen in places where she was already the object of a cult27.
The e‡dwlon is used by Stesichorus (and Euripides in his footsteps) as
a device which permits him to emend the traditional version of the myth.
A similar strategy seems to stand behind the other literary constructions
referred to above. In Hesiod’s dealing with Iphigenia and Hera, the e‡dwlon
transforms the myth, and thus avoids attributing to the goddess an unfit
behavior28. As to Homer, it seems that the use of the e‡dwlon of both Ae-
neas and Herakles reflects later interpolations, made on the basis of either
Stesichorus or Hesiod, and offering a solution to deep-seated problems
in myth interpretation. In the words of Martin West (relating only to
Aeneas), “the idea of the Greeks and Trojans fighting about a phantom
is particularly close to Stesichorus’s story of the phantom Helen, and the
likelihood is that Iliad V 449-453 (or perhaps 447-453) is a post-Stesi-
chorean interpolation”29.
In the case of Herakles, the use of e‡dwlon is an attempt to combine
two traditions, one which made Herakles a mortal hero and the other a
man who had become god. Already in Antiquity, since Aristarchus, the
passage had been recognized as a later interpolation30. Plotinus’s reference
to the Homeric passage shows that he, too, was aware of its hermeneuti-
cal nature:

26
See in particular the full-fledged study of Austin, Helen (see note 17) where he analyses
the plot of Euripides’s play and its literary roots; M. Griffith, “Contest and Contradiction
in Early Greek Poetry”, in: Cabinet of the Muses. Essays on Classical and Comparati-
ve Literature in Honor of Thomas G. Rosenmeyer, Atlanta (Georgia) 1990, 197-199;
D. Lyons, Gender and Immortality. Heroines in Ancient Greek Myth and Cult, Princeton
1997, 134-162.
27
G. Nagy, Pindar’s Homer. The Lyric Possession of an Epic Past, Baltimore/London 1996,
420; Austin, Helen (see note 17), 113.
28
F. Solmsen, The Sacrifice of Agamemnon’s Daughter in Hesiod’s Ehoeae, AJP 102, 1981,
353-358, argues that the e‡dwlon passage in the Hesiodic fragment on Iphimede is a later
addition, intended to avoid Iphimede’s slaughter. Solmsen compares our passage to the
passage on Herakles in the Nekyia, a clear interpolation (see below). See also Gantz,
Greek Myth (see note 17), 583f., who takes the Hesiodic fragment on Iphimede’s e‡dwlon
as an interpolation following Stesichorus’s pattern.
29
West, Catalogue (see note 17), 135. See further, with small differences, Austin, Helen
(see note 17), 104-110.
30
See for instance Solmsen, Sacrifice (see note 28), 355. See also A.H. Armstrong, note in:
Plotinus, enn. IV, with an English translation by A.H. Armstrong, LCL 443, Cambridge
(Massachusetts)/London 1984, 121 (note 2).
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 429

The poet seems to be separating the image with regard to Heracles when he says
that his e‡dwlon is in Hades, but he himself among the gods. He was bound to
keep to both stories, that he is in Hades and that he dwells among the gods, so
he divided him31.

If we are not mistaken, then, the e‡dwlon is systematically used in Greek

literature to solve theological problems related to myth and its interpre-
tation. This simple device of the hero’s double solves the problem of an
unworthy behavior on the part of the (usually divine) hero, or of his (or
her) intolerable fate, without suppressing the mythical story altogether32.
Through the use of the device, the known version of the myth becomes
erroneous, and it is the new one that is perceived as true reflection of
reality. This understanding of the two versions of the myth is reflected by
Plato, who juxtaposes Homer’s blindness to Stesichorus having regained
his eye sight after writing his Palinodia.

III

Let us turn our attention to some Docetic traditions and texts reflecting
striking similarities with the above-mentioned passages.
The Treatise of the Great Seth is a particularly powerful text (extant
in Coptic translation). It has been called one of the most interesting docu-
ments from Nag Hammadi relating to Docetism33. The text describes how
the archons are misled in thinking they have succeeded in crucifying the
Savior:
[…] For my death, which they think happened, (happened) to them in their error
and blindness, since they nailed their man unto their death. For their Ennoias did
not see me, for they were deaf and blind. But in doing these things, they condemn
themselves. Yes, they saw me; they punished me. It was another, their father, who
drank the gall and the vinegar; it was not I. They struck me with the reed; it was
another, Simon, who bore the cross on his shoulder. I was another upon whom
they placed the crown of thorns. But I was rejoicing in the height over all the
wealth of the archons and the offspring of their error, of their empty glory. And
I was laughing at their ignorance34.

31
Plot., enn. I 1,12, cf. Plot., enn. IV 3,27.
32
On this and other devices in antiquity for interpretation of problems in existing versions
see further: R. Goldstein, “The Lie and the Rumor”. The Double Account of Jeremiah’s
Meeting with Zedeqiah and Ancient Techniques for Challenging the Existence of Rival
Versions, forthcoming in: Shay-Studies in the Bible. Its Exegesis and Language. Presented
to Sara Japhet, ed. by M. Bar-Asher et al., Jerusalem 2007, 17-35 (Hebrew).
33
K.W. Tröger, Christologie (see note 2), 51. Tröger, however, does not offer a real analysis
of this text, and only refers to the parallel about the suffering Simon and the laughing
Christ in the views attributed to Basilides in Iren., haer. I 24,4.
34
2LogSeth, NHC VII,2 55,30-56,19; transl.: R.A. Bullard/J.A. Gibbons, The Second
Treatise of the Great Seth (VII,2), in: J.M. Robinson (ed.), The Nag Hammadi Library
in English, Leiden/New York/Köln 41996, 365.
430 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

The same duality between Christ and the figure suffering on the cross
appears in various other contexts.
In the Apocalypse of Peter, another text from Nag Hammadi, we
read:
When he had said these things, I saw him [the Savior] seemingly being seized
by them. And I said, “What do I see, O Lord, that it is you yourself whom they
take, and that you are grasping me? Or who is this one, glad and laughing on the
tree? And is it another one whose feet and hands they are striking?” The Savior
said to me, “He whom you saw on the tree, glad and laughing, this is the living
Jesus. But this one into whose hands and feet they drive the nails is his fleshly
part, which is the substitute (shebī) […]”35.

Other texts from Nag Hammadi reflect the same Docetic perception of
Jesus, who did not suffer on the cross. The Letter of Peter to Philip of-
fers a similar vision of things: “My brothers, Jesus is a stranger to this
suffering. But we are the ones who have suffered through the transgres-
sion of the mother”36. The text entitled The Concept of our Great Power
describes how the ruler of the archons “found that the nature of his [the
Savior’s] flesh could not be seized, in order to show it to the archons”37.
In the First Apocalypse of James, the Lord is quoted as saying: “James,
do not be concerned for me or for this people. I am he who was within
me. Never have I suffered in any way, nor have I been distressed. And
this people has done me no harm”38. Elsewhere in the same text, the Lord
says to James that he will reveal to the “authorities”, or archons, that “he
cannot be seized”39.
To these texts, one should add various “Gnostic” traditions retained by
the Patristic heresiographers, in particular the views of Basilides accord-
ing to Irenaeus of Lyon. The question has been raised whether this last
report really reflects Basilides’ doctrine, or rather the views of some of
his followers, but this question does not affect its significance for our
present task.
[The Intellect, the First-Born of the Father] appeared (apparuisse) on earth as a
man, and he performed deeds of power. Hence he did not suffer. Rather, a certain
Simon of Cyrene was forced to bear his cross for him, and it was he who was
ignorantly and erroneously crucified, having been transformed by Him, so that

35
ApcPt, NHC VII,3 81,4-21; transl.: J. Brashler/R.A. Bullard, Apocalypse of Peter (VII,3),
in: Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi Library (see note 34), 241.
36
EpPt, NHC VIII,2 139,21-23; transl.: F. Wisse, The Letter of Peter to Philip, in: Robinson
(ed.), Nag Hammadi Library (see note 34), 436.
37
Noēma, NHC VI,4 42,1-3; transl.: F. Wisse, The Concept of our Great Power (VI,4), in:
Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi Library (see note 34), 314.
38
1ApcJac, NHC V,3 31,15-22; transl.: W.R. Schoedel, in: Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi
Library (see note 34), 265.
39
1ApcJac, NHC V,3 30,4; transl.: W.R. Schoedel, in: Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi
Library (see note 34), 264.
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 431

he was taken for Jesus (transfiguratum ab eo, ut putaretur ipse esse Iesus); while
Jesus, for his part, assumed the form (accepisse formam) of Simon and stood by,
laughing at them40.

Another significant testimony is provided by Pseudo-Tertullian, Adversus

omnes haereses, a text extant in Latin, but which may have been origi-
nally written in Greek and might have used a version of Hippolytus’s lost
Syntagma.
Referring respectively to Simon Magus and Saturninus, the text insists on
the phantasmal semblance of the suffering figure of Christ (apud Iudaeos
se in phantasmate dei non passum, sed esse quasi passum41; Christum
in substantia corporis non fuisse et phantasmate tantum quasi passum
fuisse42). Dealing with Basilides, he offers the following development:
Christ, moreover, he affirms to have been sent, not by this maker of the world, but
by the above-named Abrasax; and to have come in a phantasm, and been destitute
of the substance of flesh (venisse in phantasmate, sine substantia carnis fuisse): that
it was not He who suffered among the Jews, but that Simon was crucified in His
stead (hunc passum apud Iudaeos non esse, sed vice ipsius Simonem crucifixum
esse): whence, again, there must be no believing on him who was crucified, lest
one confess to having believed on Simon43.

Finally, the Acta Ioannis preserve a famous description of Christ’s Docetic

nature, quite similar to the “Gnostic” traditions quoted above. As noted
by the editors of this text, E. Junod and J.-D. Kaestli, the dissociation
reflected in the Acta Ioannis between the Savior and the man on the cross
fits quite well Eastern Valentinian Christology44.
‘So then I have suffered none of those things which they will say of me […] You
hear that I suffered, yet I suffered not […] and that I was pierced, yet I was not
lashed, that I was hanged, yet I was not hanged; that blood flowed from me, yet
it did not flow […].’ When he had said these things to me, and others which I
know not how to say as he wills, he was taken up, without any of the multitude
seeing him. And going down I laughed at them all when they told me what they
had said about him […].45

40
Iren., haer. I 24,4 (SC 264, 328,68-74 R./D.); transl.: B. Layton, The Gnostic Scriptures,
Garden City (New York) 1987, 242. For further references to the theme of laughter
in Gnostic sources and traditions, see Stroumsa, Christ’s Laughter (see note 1), 273
(note 26).
41
Ps.-Tert., haer. 1 (CSEL 47, 213,18-214,1 Kroymann).
42
Ps.-Tert., haer. 1 (214,14f. K.).
43
Ps.-Tert., haer. 1 (215,9-14 K.); transl.: S. Thelwall, Appendix. Against All Heresies, in:
A. Roberts/J. Donaldson (ed.), The Ante-Nicene Fathers. Translations of the Writings of
the Fathers down to A.D. 325, vol. 3, Grand Rapids (Massachusetts) 1993 (= Edinburgh
1885), 649.
44
See E. Junod/J.-D. Kaestli (ed.), Acta Iohannis. Textus alii, Indices, CChr.SA 2, Turnhout
1983, 601.
45
A.Jo. 101f. (213-215 Junod/Kaestli); transl.: New Testament Apocrypha. Revised Edition
of the Collection initiated by E. Hennecke, edited by W. Schneemelcher, English transl.
ed. by R.McL. Wilson, vol. 2, Cambridge 1992, 185f.
432 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

The duplication of the figure of Jesus-Christ allows him not to suffer the
painful and humiliating fate which a literal reading of the text grants him.
A similar duplication is used by some Gnostic texts to protect the divine
figure of Eve from being raped by the evil archons.
In the Hypostasis of the Archons, the heavenly Eve is described in the
following manner:
Then the archons came up to their Adam. And when they saw his female coun-
terpart speaking with him, they became agitated with great agitation; and they
became enamored of her. They said to one another, “Come, let us sow our seed
in her.” And they pursued her. And she laughed at [the archons], for their folly
and their blindness; and in their clutches, she became a tree, and left before them
a shadow of herself resembling herself. It is this shadow, of course, that they
catch and defile46.

Another text from Nag Hammadi offers a similar description of the divine
true, spiritual Eve:
Then [the Life (Zoe)] Eve, being a force, laughed at their decision [i.e. the desire
of the evil archons to rape her]. She put mist into their eyes and secretly left her
likeness with Adam. She entered the tree of acquaintance and remained there.
And they [i.e. the archons] were greatly disturbed, thinking it was she that was
the true Eve. And they acted rashly; they came up to her and seized her and cast
their seed upon her47.

Traditions similar to those on Eve and her escape from the archons’ rap-
ing attempt were also told about Sophia. For instance, according to the
Valentinian Exposition, Sophia “laughs since she remained alone and
imitated the ‘ungraspable’48”. The figure imitated by Sophia seems to be

46
HA, NHC II,4 89,23-26. We quote the translation of Layton, Gnostic Scriptures (see note
40), 71. In the commentary to his edition of the text B. Layton, The Hypostasis of the
Archons (Conclusion), HThR 69, 1976, (31-101) 57 (note 61) calls attention to skia, the
Greek word probably rendered by the Coptic text, adding: “The richness of this Greek
word should not be overlooked: shadow, shadowy double, reflection, even phantom; this
range of meanings survives well into the Patristic period. In our passage, the skiai of
Plato’s Republic inevitably come to mind.” This shadow of Eve should be compared to
the shadow (ski£) of Christ engendered together with him by His Mother according to
Valentinian cosmogony. “As this Christ was male, he detached this shadow from Himself
and ascended back into the Pleroma.” (Iren., haer. I 11,1 [168-171 R.-D.]). The existence
in Valentinian mythology of a shadow of Christ, remaining upon the earth while Christ
himself returned to heaven, is striking. It underlines the extent to which the origins of
Gnosticism and those of Docetism are linked to one another. See further B.A. Pearson,
“She Became a Tree”. A Note to CG II, 4:89, 25-26, HThR 69, 1976, 413-415.
47
UW, NHC II,5 116,24-117,4; transl.: H.-G. Bethge/B. Layton/Societas Coptica Hieroso-
lymitana, On the Origin of the World (II,5 and XIII,2), in: Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi
Library (see note 34), 183.
48
ExpVal, NHC XI,2A 34,35-37; or translate “the Uncontainable One”, according to
J. Turner, A Valentinian Exposition (XI,2), with On the Anointing, On Baptism, and On
the Eucharist A and B, in: Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi Library (see note 34), 485. See
also J.E. Ménard, L’exposé valentinien, les fragments sur le baptême et sur l’eucharistie,
BCNH 14, Québec 1985. Ménard translates: “l’insaisissable.”
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 433

he who cannot be caught, i.e. who cannot suffer through his capture by
the archons49.
In the Gnostic texts, the substitute figure for both Jesus Christ and Eve
functions exactly like the e‡dwlon of the divine figure in the Greek texts.
In both literatures, the substitute of the hero suffers indignity in his stead.
In the Greek texts, the substitute or double of the hero, his (or her) e‡dwlon,
is sometimes referred to as a cloud (nefšlh), for instance in Pindar’s Second
Pythian Ode. The testimony of Euripides’s Helen indicates clearly that this
nefšlh is anthropomorphic, and identical to the e‡dwlon. Helen, referring
to her e‡dwlon sent to Troy in her stead, calls it a cloud, which has now
returned to the upper air.
Theoclymenus
Where then is that curse sent in your place to Troy?
Helen
You mean that image made of cloud (nefšlh)? Gone up in the sky (a„q»r)50.

To be sure, no mention is made in the Gnostic texts themselves of an

e‡dwlon (or a nefšlh) of Jesus Christ (or of Eve), although the term is used
in the Acts of John in reference to the bodily appearance in opposition to
the real self51. Moreover, the testimony of Pseudo-Tertullian, which speaks
about a ‘phantasma’ of Christ, represents striking evidence in favor of
the existence of such a conception52. Various texts show that e‡dwlon and
f£sma (i.e. phantasma) are equivalent53. Moreover, both Eve’s shadow, de-
filed by the archons in the Hypostasis of the Archons, and the Valentinian
shadow (ski£) of Christ, remaining upon the earth in his stead, function
like e‡dwla54. The texts, in any case, leave no doubt to the fact that the

49
See also UW, NHC II,5 113,13f., where Sophia Zoe laughs at the Archontic authorities,
UW, NHC II,5 116,26, where Eve laughs at the powers, and UW, NHC II,5 (112,27),
where the Archons laugh at the Archigenitor because of his foolishness.
50
E., Hel. 1219; transl.: Kovacs, Helen (see note 25), 147; cf. E., Hel. 582-584, where
Helen states that the e‡dwlon was fashioned by the a„q»r. Helen’s eidolon, made by Hera,
occurs again later in the text, for instance in E., Hel. 1135f. Further discussion of nefšlh
in Kannicht (ed.), Helena (see note 24), 36-38.
51
A.Jo. 28, lin. 7 (179 J./K.); cf. W. Bauer/F.W. Danker, A Greek-English Lexicon of the
New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature, third ed., Chicago et al. 2000,
280, s.v. e‡dwlon.
52
Pseudo-Tertullian uses the term phantasma (also a loan word from Greek in Latin) rather
than e‡dwlon, probably as the latter retains pagan connotations for a Christian writer.
For another reference to Christ’s phantasma (who did not suffer, as no phantasma can
suffer), see Tert., adv. Marc. III 8f. (SC 399, 94,1-100,61 Braun).
53
See G. Kittel (ed.), Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, vol. 2, Grand Rapids
(Mich.) 1983, 376, s.v. e‡dwlon, esp. n. 4. Among the various references, see for instance
Philo, De somnis II 133 and De specialibus legibus I 26.
54
From the testimony of Aelius Aristides, indeed, we know that e‡dwlon and ski£ in the
context of Stesichorus seem to be interchangeable. See Arist., Or. 2,234 (LCL 458, 406f.
Behr); Or. 33,2f. (B. Keil [ed.], Aelii Aristidis quae supersunt omnia, vol. 2, Berlin 1898,
228); for the translation of both passages, see P. Aelius Aristides, The Complete Works,
into English by C.A. Behr, vol. 1, Leiden 1986, 111; vol. 2, Leiden 1981, 166. See further
434 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

substitute has the physical appearance of the hero. One could not under-
stand otherwise the error of the archons mistaking his (or her) identity.
Thus, for instance the Apocalypse of Peter from Nag Hammadi describes
the man suffering on the cross instead of the Savior as “his fleshly part,
which is the substitute”55.
In other texts, for instance in the Treatise of the Great Seth, it is some-
one else, Simon of Cyrene, who is crucified in the place of Jesus. This
replacement in extremis can only be understood if one assumes a physical
similarity between the two figures. Such a physical similarity, indeed, is
made explicit in Irenaeus’s treatment of Basilides, where Jesus and Simon
simply exchange roles and physical form56. Similarly, in the Hypostasis of
the Archons, Eve “left before them [i.e. the archons] a shadow of herself
resembling herself”57.
While the substitute suffers indignity, the hero is transferred into safety.
In some of the traditions, he (or she) is carried up into heaven. This is clearly
the case for both Aeneas in the Iliad and Helen in Euripides’s play (44).
Similarly, the Treatise of the Great Seth describes how it is from heaven
that Christ laughs at the blindness of the archons deluding themselves that
they have crucified him.
Another element of similarity between the two bodies of texts is that of
the third party, the participants or observers, and also of the transmitters
of those traditions. Being ignorant or blind, they are unable to recognize
that they are dealing with a substitute. For instance, Ixion, raping Hera (or
rather, thinking he is raping her) is presented as ignorant. The foolishness
and blindness of the archons and of their leader (often called Sammael,
i.e. “the blind god”) is a central theme of Gnostic mythology and theol-
ogy. In the Hypostasis of the Archons, for instance, the archons raping
the figure of Eve are described as foolish and blind. In the passage of the
Acta Ioannis quoted above, the author laughs about the transmitters of
the traditional version of the crucifixion. Similarly, Plato quotes Stesicho-

Kittel, Theological Dictionary (see note 53), s.v. e‡dwlon, who refers to the use of the
expression e‡dwlwn ski£j in Pl., R. VII 532c) and e‡dwla, ski£ and f£sma together in
Philo, De specialibus legibus I 26.
55
ApcPt, NHC VII,3 81,20f.; transl.: J. Brashler/R.A. Bullard, Apocalypse of Peter (VII,3),
in: Robinson (ed.), Nag Hammadi Library (see note 34), 377.
56
This clearly reflects a folkloristic motif, on which see: E.J Bickerman/H. Tadmor, Darius
I, Pseudo-Smerdis, and the Magi, At. N.S. 56, 1978, 248. As claimed by Bickerman, the
folkloristic motif was used by Darius, molding the story of Gaumata (Pseudo-Smerdis), after
the pattern of the folkloristic tales. The story about the impostor, the double of Bardiya,
was a propagandistic version of the problematic reality of Darius being a usurper. As in
the Docetic case the solution was established upon the use of a similar device: a double.
It seems that the use of an e‡dwlon to replace the hero is also related to other folkloristic
motives such as the deception by illusion (see S. Thompson, Motif-Index of Folk-Literature.
A Classification of Narrative Elements in Folktales, Ballads, Myths, Fables, Mediaeval
Romances, Exempla, Fabliaux, Jest-Books and Local Legends, vol. 4, Copenhagen 21957,
Motif K1800) or deception by substitution (K1840) or illusions (K1870).
57
See note 46 above.
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 435

rus as saying that “the wraith of Helen was fought for at Troy through
ignorance of the truth.”
There are, then, some precise structural similarities between the Greek and
the Gnostic texts. Some among the earliest Christians, as we have seen,
could not believe that Jesus had suffered on the cross. Their quandary
was similar to that of Greeks seeking to salvage mythical figures through
the device of the e‡dwlon. We may postulate, then, that this device offered
them a ready-made solution, which stands at the very root of Docetism.
The use of the e‡dwlon had permitted the revision of Greek myths, and the
perception of the old version as erroneous. Similarly, the Docetic solution
presented the literal understanding of the crucifixion story as mistaken.
Just as the substitute of Jesus permitted to reject this literal understand-
ing, Eve’s substitute aimed at negating an already existing story about
Eve’s real rape. Such a rape must be based upon the myth of the Sons of
God and the daughters of man (Gen 6,1-4). A Gnostic development of
this myth is found in the Apocryphon of John, where the archons commit
adultery with Sophia (Apocryphon of John 28,5-32)58. Our hypothesis
is strengthened by the fact that in classical Greek literature the word
dÒkhsij with the meaning of “apparition,” “phantom”, seems to appear
solely in Euripides’s Helen59. There are three occurances of the word in
the play, where the verbal form is also used several times, referring to
Helen’s e‡dwlon. Referring to her abduction by Paris, Helen says: “He
imagines – vain imagination, that he has me, though he does not (kaˆ doke‹
m’œcein ken¾n dÒkesin, oÙk œcwn)”60.
At the end of Helen’s monologue enters Teucer, coming back from Troy.
He is struck upon seeing Helen, as he remembers having seen her in Troy,
“dragged by her hair by Menelaus” (Euripides, Helen 116). About the
latter, he says: “I saw her with my eyes no less than I see you” (Euripi-
des, Helen 118). Helen unsuccessfully tries to warn him that he may
be deluding himself, and mistaking a vision for reality: “Take care: you
might have been under some divinely sent illusion” (skope‹te m¾ dÒkhsin
e‡cet’ ™k qeîn; Euripides, Helen 119), adding: “Are you so convinced that
your impression is right?” (oÛtw doke‹te t¾n dÒkhsin ¢sfalÁ; Euripides,
Helen 121).
As we have just seen, the use of dÒkhsij in the sense of “apparition”,
“phantom”, in classical Greek literature appears only in connection with
the device of the e‡dwlon. Hence, the renewed use of the word in direct

58
On this remythologization, see G.G. Stroumsa, Another Seed. Studies in Gnostic Mytho-
logy, NHS 24, Leiden 1984.
59
See H.G. Liddell/R. Scott/H.S. Jones, A Greek English Lexicon, Oxford 1983, 442, s.v.
dÒkhsij. See further R. Kannicht (ed.), Euripides, Helena, WKLGS, vol. 2, Heidelberg
1969, 49.
60
E., Hel. 35f. See discussion of dokhta… part I above. See also, for instance, Hipp., haer.
10,19 on Marcion: dok»sei.
436 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

connection with a doctrine established upon a substitute to Jesus Christ

reinforces our hypothesis about the origin of this doctrine. On the basis of
the evidence, however, we remain unable to determine whether “Docetics”
is a selfappellation or not.

IV

Another piece of circumstantial evidence strengthening our hypothesis

lays in the fact that the e‡dwlon solution attributed to Stesichorus was
quite well-known throughout antiquity. Even the Christian heresiologist
refer to it. Irenaeus tells us in his chapter on the heresiarch Simon Magus
about Helen, Simon’s consort, a prostitute from Tyre61. This Helen was
an avatar of the original Helen, she because of whom the Trojan war had
occurred. Irenaeus mentions here Stesichorus, as well as the fact that he
recovered his eye-sight only after having discharged Helen from any guilt
about that war. A similar reference to Stesichorus also occurs in Hippolytus,
Refutatio omnium haeresium VI 19,3, a source independent from Irenaeus.
Therefore, it stands to reason that the reference to Stesichorus does not
originate with Irenaeus and is obviously of Simonian origin.
Although Epiphanius, writing in the fourth century, does not mention
Stesichorus in the chapter on the Simonians in his Panarion, he does
speak of Helen, the woman on behalf of whom “the Greeks fought the
Trojans”. This Helen Simon identifies with ” Ennoia, also called ProÚnikoj,
“the lewd one”62.
We know, moreover, that the Homeric Helen was known to at least
some Gnostic heretics, as she also appears in a text from Nag Hammadi,
the Exegesis of the Soul (NHC II,6). The context is the prostitution of the
fallen soul, who is willing to sleep with anyone instead of keeping herself
for her legal husband. After a chain of quotations from the Prophets, the
text goes on to quote Homer, “the poet”, with two references, the first to
Odysseus (Odyssey I 48f.), the second to Helen and Aphrodite (Odyssey
IV 260-264). “On Helen, Homer writes: [My heart] turned itself from me.
It is to my house that I want to return (Odyssey IV 260)”63.

61
Iren., haer. I 23,2. See further G.W.H. Lampe, A Patristic Greek Lexicon, Oxford 1987,
378, s.v. dokšw, n. 3b; 379, s.v. dÒkhsij, n. 1a.
62
Epiph., haer. 21,2,4f.; see also 21,3,1 (GCS Epiphanius I, 240f. Holl).
63
ExAn, NHC II,6 136,27-137,5. Both M. Scopello and J.-M. Sevrin, who have both edi-
ted the text and commented upon it, point out the few references to Homer in Gnostic
literature, and signal this quotation of Homer, and to the figure of the Soul, but without
any far-reaching consequences. See J.-M. Sevrin, L’exégèse de l’âme, BCNH.T 9, Québec
1983, 158-160 and M. Scopello, L’exégèse de l’âme, Nag Hammadi Codex II,6, NHS
25, Leiden 1985, 117, where she points out the similarities between the fate of Ulysses
and that of Helen, and claims that the breaking of the nuptial link was the source of
Helen’s erring, as it had been that of the soul.
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 437

Moreover, the e‡dwlon of a divine figure remained a known device up to

the third century C.E., and this not only in Gnostic or dualist milieus. As
shown above, Plotinus, for instance, presents Herakles as a model for the
soul, as his e‡dwlon descends upon the earth while he himself remains in
heaven64. We may then claim that the detected isomorphism of “double”
and “delusion” reflects a historical link between Greek myth criticism
and the early Docetists. The longevity of the tradition about Stesichorus
and Helen’s e‡dwlon, which remained well-known in the first Christian
centuries, strengthens this claim.

Actually, a possible thread might be proposed according to which the

concept of the e‡dwlon reached the Gnostics, as a solution to problems
stemming from difficulties in interpreting myth. Many years ago, Marcel
Detienne studied the figure of Helen in Pythagorean literature, claiming
that the Pythagoreans were probably interpreting the Homeric and Hesi-
odic poems already in the fifth century B.C.E.65 Detienne showed that the
word-play on `Elšnh/Sel»nh must have been common among Pythagore-
ans, as the story of a woman fallen from the moon was a well-attested
“Orphico-Pythagorean” doctrine66. The speculation about Helen’s origin
from the moon was in all probability instrumental in transforming Helen
into a divine figure. Detienne points out various links between Stesichorus
and the Pythagoreans, for whom the theme of the e‡dwlon, or the yuc»,
was of crucial interest. Finally, Detienne argues that the Pythagoreans did
much to disseminate the Palinodia, and suggests that the Simonian figure
of Helen stems from the Pythagorean Helen. He calls attention to the fact
that the Simonian Helen, at least in the Pseudo-Clementine Recognitiones,
is called Luna and said to have fallen from heaven67.

64
Plot., enn. I 1,12; IV 3,27. M. Tardieu, Gnostiques et mythologies du paganisme, in:
Y. Bonnefoy (ed.), Dictionnaire des mythologies et des religions des sociétés traditionnelles
et du monde antique, Paris 1981, 470, sees a parallel between the figure of Herakles
as it appears in Plotinus and that of the Book Baruch of Justin the Gnostic. For him,
one, a savior turned prisoner, and the other, double thanks to his eidolon, both come
from the same strand of thought. The figure of Helen was also well-known to Platonic
philosophers. For Hermias of Alexandria, a pupil of Proclus who wrote a commentary
on Plato’s Phaedrus where he refers to Stesichorus’ Palinode, Helen, prisoner of Ilion, or
matter, is a reflection, or e‡dwlon, of the beauty of Hellas, her fatherland, the spiritual or
intellectual world. See Herm., in Phdr. 243a (BEHE.H 133, p. 77,13-78,5 Couvreur).
65
M. Detienne, “La légende pythagoricienne d’Hélène”, RHR 76, 1957, 129-152.
66
Detienne, La légende (see note 65), 132.
67
On the figure of Helen in Simonian Gnosis, see K. Beyschlag, Simon Magus und die
christliche Gnosis, WUNT 16, Tübingen 1974, esp. 153-158 and G. Lüdemann, Un-
tersuchungen zur simonianischen Gnosis, GTA 1, Göttingen, 1975, esp. 55-78. Neither
Beyschlag nor Lüdemann call attention to the similarities between Helen’s e‡dwlon and
Gnostic traditions.
438 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

Whether Detienne’s argument is convincing in all its details or not, his

claim that the dual figure of Helen had long been the core of spiritualizing
interpretation stands to reason. It seems to us, however, that rather than
the figure of Helen, it was the dual division between a heavenly divine
figure and its earthly illusory phantom which became of major importance
for the dualistic trends in earliest Christianity.
Detienne’s argument about the Pythagorean channel through which the
figure of Helen reached Simon does not bear upon the links through which
the device of the e‡dwlon reached the first Christians. The Pythagoreans
might have been instrumental in carrying the knowledge of the e‡dwlon,
but the broad spectrum of major literary Greek texts in which it appears
does not permit to isolate one specific channel of transmission68.

VI

Among the various suggestions for the origin of Docetism, some have
looked in the direction of Jewish sources and their interpretation.
Many years ago, R. Grant called attention to the Septuagint version of
Ps 2,2-4:
The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers (¥rcontej) take counsel to-
gether, against the Lord and his anointed, saying, “Let us burst their bonds asun-
der, and cast their cords from us.” He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord
has them in derision69.

Grant is probably right in seeing the interpretation of this passage as a

possible source of Gnosticism, and of the Docetic laughter of Christ. His
insight is reinforced by verse 1 in the same chapter:
Why do the nations conspire, and the peoples plot in vain (ken£)?

We suggest that the Docetic story about the false crucifixion of Christ
by the ¥rcontej and the laughter of Christ in heaven is based on a direct
interpretation of Ps 2. This Psalm was interpreted as dealing with the
messianic drama already in the New Testament (see for instance Acts 4,23-
26). In contradistinction with the “orthodox” story of the crucifixion, the
Docetic version seems to have adopted a literal reading of Ps 2, according
to which the plot to kill the Messiah was thwarted.
In a recent article, G.G. Stroumsa, while noting this suggestion of Grant,
has developed an argument according to which the story of the sacrifice

68
Moreover, the structural similarity between the eidolon of Hera and Iphigenia, neither
of whom has a particular place in Pythagorean traditions, and the substitutes of Eve and
Jesus, seems to weaken the emphasis upon the Pythagorean channel.
69
See R. Grant, Gnostic Origins and the Basilidians of Irenaeus, VigChr 13, 1959, 121-
125.
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 439

of Isaac, or, more precisely, of his binding (‘Akedat Yzhak’), offered for
the first followers of Jesus a model which could easily be applied to the
case of Jesus himself70. Jesus, like Isaac, would have been bound on the
cross, but at the last minute, another victim would have been substituted
for him. Stroumsa supported his argument by referring to the puzzling
appearance of a laughing figure of Christ in heaven in the Gnostic texts
and traditions quoted above, while his substitute was suffering on the
cross. The figure of a laughing Christ can be explained if we admit that
Jesus was perceived as Isaac redivivus71.
Prima facie, our whole argument here would seem to contradict both
Grant’s and Stroumsa’s search for Jewish sources. The roots of Docetism,
as those of Gnosticism, are usually claimed to come either from Greek
or from Jewish sources, but not from both. We think, however, following
here a path opened by J.G. Davies, that the overall evidence reflects the
contamination of the Greek device studied above by the Jewish tradi-
tions about Ps 2 and the Binding of Isaac72. The motif of laughter, which
Stroumsa claimed to be central in the original conception of a Docetic
Christ, is quite absent from the Greek texts, and can be best explained
as referring to Isaac’s name and to Ps 2,4. Similarly the identity of the
plotters, the ¥rcontej, is best explained as an allusion to Ps 2. Both Ps 2
and Gen 22, however, do not refer to an illusory substitute. The Docetic
view of the crucifixion was thus probably shaped by the combination of
both Greek and Biblical sources. The problem of the suffering of Jesus
was solved by referring to the vain plot against the Messiah in Ps 2 and
to the sacrifice of a substitute, as in the binding of Isaac and in the Greek
stories about the e‡dwlon.
The combination here of both Greek and Jewish patterns of thought
should not be surprising. Both the animal and the e‡dwlon as substitute
victims are found in alternative versions of the Greek myth of Iphigenia’s
sacrifice. In the text of Hesiod quoted above, Artemis, taking pity upon
the girl, spirited her away in a cloud at the last moment, substituting her
e‡dwlon for her. In other versions, she is said to have replaced her by a
deer. In different variants of the myth, Iphigenia is turned into a bull, or
a bear73. The fact that Iphigenia’s substitute in alternative Greek versions
of her sacrifice can either be an animal or her e‡dwlon, leads to the as-
sumption that for people who knew such different versions, the human

70
Stroumsa, Christ’s Laughter (see note 1), see reference to Grant’s article page 274 and
note 31. See further P. Grelot, La naissance d’Isaac et celle de Jésus. Sur une interprétation
‘mythologique’ de la conception virginale, NRTh 94, 1972, 462-487.561-585. Grelot’s
over-complex argument, rejecting the possibility of a Jewish Alexandrian influence on
some of the earliest Christian conceptions, has failed to convince us.
71
Isaac’s name, Yzhak, literally means “he will laugh” in Hebrew.
72
See Davies, Origins (see note 1), 16f.31.35.
73
On the different versions of Iphigenia’s myth, see Gantz, Greek Myth (see note 17),
582-588.
440 Ronnie Goldstein and Guy G. Stroumsa

substitute of Jesus could have played the same role as the animal substitute
of Isaac74. Those who offered a Docetic interpretation of the crucifixion,
then, must have been cognizant of the Greek use of e‡dwlon in order to
solve problems of mythology: it is the substitute of the divine figure, its
e‡dwlon, who suffered. At the same time, the Binding of Isaac was obvi-
ously in the background of the crucifixion. Instead of the traditional ram,
however, one could well think that it was the e‡dwlon of Jesus that had been
crucified, as a similar interchange between substitute animal and e‡dwlon
existed in Iphigenia’s myth. Similarly, it is plausible that Ps 2, according
to which “He who sits in the heavens laughs” about the conspirators was
combined with the Greek sources about the e‡dwlon, where the hero safely
returns to heaven.
The application of the e‡dwlon device to Jesus had some dramatic implica-
tions. The divinization of the figure of Jesus-Christ remains a major problem
in our understanding of earliest Christianity. Like Helen, Iphigenia, or
Herakles, divinized heroes, Jesus-Christ did not really suffer himself. The
fact that his e‡dwlon suffered in his place, while he went up to heaven, like
Iphigenia (who became Artemis in heaven) could have helped the process
of his divinization among people cognizant of such thought patterns.
To be sure, our reconstitution of the mental steps involved in the birth
of Docetism must remain hypothetical. This reconstruction is based on
various arguments of a different nature, and seeks to take the following
into account: thought patterns, technical vocabulary (dÒkhsij), puzzling
isomorphisms, and circumstantial evidence (the reference to both Helen
and Stesichorus in Simonian traditions).
In conclusion, our argument has revealed some of the complex interplay
between Greek and Jewish thought patterns in the ancient world, and at

74
The passage of Philo, De Abrahamo 180 (LCL 289, 88f. Colson) shows that the story
of Iphigenia was known to Alexandrian Jews, and that they compared it to the binding
of Isaac. The parallelism between the story of Iphigenia being replaced by an animal
substitute at the moment of sacrifice and that of Isaac’s binding may also have been
known to Hellenistic Jews, although this cannot be proven. S. Spiegel, The Last Trial.
On the Legends and Lore of the Command to Abraham to Offer Isaac as a Sacrifice,
New York 1967 duly notes Philo’s perception of a parallel between Isaac and Iphigenia.
For a close parallel in Rabbinic literature of a substitute taking the hero’s place at the
last moment, see J.Z. Lauterbach (ed.), Mekhilta de Rabbi Ishmael. A Critical Edition,
with an English translation, introduction and notes, vol. 2, Philadelphia 21961, 171:
“They say: They seized Moses, brought him to the platform, bound him and put the
sword to his throat. But then an angel came down and appeared to them in the likeness
of Moses, so that they got hold of the angel and let Moses escape”. See L. Ginzberg,
Legends of the Jews, vol. 2, Philadelphia 1910, 282 and vol. 5, Philadelphia 1925, 406
(note 76): “The view that an angel assumed the form of Moses (Docetism?) […].” For
other instances of an illusion in Rabbinical and Kabbalist sources (called by Ginzberg
‘Docetism’) see: Ginzberg, Legends (see note 74), vol. 1, Philadelphia 1909, 243 (on the
illusion of the three angels), vol. 5, 275 (note 35; on the tradition about Jacob death),
vol. 6, Philadelphia 1946, 411 (note 64; on the Kabbalist tradition about the destruction
of the temple); 460 (note 80; on the late tradition about Esther’s image).
 The Greek and Jewish Origins of Docetism 441

the very beginnings of Christianity. What we describe as a possible ori-

gin of Docetism also holds true for Gnosticism. In Greek literature, the
use of the e‡dwlon device had instantly transformed previous versions of
the myth into mistaken perceptions of reality. Similarly, Docetic attitudes
transformed the literal reading of the crucifixion story into a simplistic,
mistaken, understanding of the central myth of Christianity. Such a trans-
formation lies at the root of Gnostic thought and mythology. The fact that
Valentinian mythology mentions a shadow (ski£) of Christ, which suffered
in his stead, clearly points to Docetic thought patterns. Similarly it seems
that the argument developed here, according to which one of the main
sources of the Docetic story of the crucifixion was the Septuagint version
of Ps 2, points to the fact that this same psalm is the probable source of
the Gnostic ¥rcontej.
We have not raised the question of the precise circles in which the
Docetic attitudes first blossomed. Should one look in the direction of
Alexandrian Judaism or in that of various Jewish-Christian groups, in
Palestine or elsewhere, Gnosticizing or not? Such questions should remain
the object of another investigation.

ABSTRACT

Despite the amount of work on Docetic trends in early Christianity, in particular in the
last generations, thanks to the renewed interest in Gnosticism after the Nag Hammadi
discovery, the origins of Docetism remain obscure. While various suggestions have been
offered, they usually point to either to Jewish or to Greek origins of Docetic attitudes.
This article offers a new model, which seeks to combine both Greek and Jewish origins.
The article calls attention to the Greek conception of the eidōlon of a person (or of a
divinity) taking its place under certain conditions. This conception had been systema-
tically used in Greek classical literature in order to solve hermeneutical problems in
mythology. We argue that the Greek conception of the eidōlon was combined to Jewish
interpretations of Genesis 22 and of Psalm 2 in the earliest stages of Christianity in
order to offer a solution to the scandal of Christ’s Passion.