The rich mythopoeic framework of Valentinus did not vanish with the death of its founder. On the contrary, it evolved into a prolific school of thought—flexible, vibrant, and divisive. Spanning East and West, the disciples of Valentinus tailored his theology into new systems of mysticism and speculation. Their deviations and developments not only ensured the survival of his core doctrines but compelled the Church to refine its own dogmatic boundaries and its reading of Scripture.
The Fragmenting Legacy
Valentinianism flourished more than any other Gnostic school, especially in Rome, where Valentinus had taught. Tertullian, with caustic wit, likened its adaptability to a courtesan constantly altering her garments—a heresy ever shifting form, seductive in its variety.
The school divided into two principal branches: the Oriental and the Italian. According to Hippolytus, the Oriental branch included the enigmatic figure Axionicos and Bardesanes (under the Greek form Ardesianes). They held that Christ’s body was pneumatic, a heavenly vehicle conferred by the Holy Spirit (identified with Sophia) upon Mary. In contrast, the Italian school—represented by Heracleon and Ptolemy—regarded Christ’s body as psychical, receiving divine empowerment through the descent of the Spirit at baptism. Some of these teachers, however, approached orthodoxy more nearly than their master, drawing closer to ecclesial formulations of Christ’s incarnation.
Heracleon: The First Gnostic Commentator
Heracleon, a direct disciple of Valentinus, likely taught in Italy between 170 and 180. He holds the distinction of being the earliest known commentator on the Gospel of John. Origen, in his own commentary on the same Gospel, preserved about fifty of Heracleon’s exegetical fragments—often only to refute them.
Heracleon’s interpretation reverently acknowledged the authority of John but refracted its contents through a thoroughly Valentinian lens. He practiced allegory in a style akin to Origen’s but, ironically, was rebuked by Origen for clinging too closely to the letter.
In his symbolic system:
– The woman at the well (John 4) is Sophia, the estranged aeon.
– The water is the spiritual deficiency of Judaism.
– Her true husband is her celestial bridegroom from the Pleroma.
– Her former husbands represent the Hyle—the material forces of ignorance and darkness.
– The nobleman of Capernaum is the Demiurge, not malicious, but ignorant and petitioning Christ on behalf of psychical humanity (his son).
Such interpretations exhibit how deeply Heracleon mined John for mystical Gnosis while denying its historical literalism. That both Gnostics and orthodox fathers revered this Gospel strongly affirms its early apostolic origin.
Ptolemy: The Epistle to Flora
Ptolemy, another eminent Valentinian, addressed a surviving treatise—the Epistle to Flora—to a wealthy Christian woman. In it, he seeks to reconcile Christian teaching with Valentinian cosmology, arguing that the Old Testament could not have originated from the supreme God, given the world’s moral disorder.
Appealing to apostolic tradition and Christ’s revelation in John 1:18 and Matthew 19:17, Ptolemy insists that only the Son reveals the true Father. The God of the Old Testament, while not evil, must be a lower divine being—an architect, not the source of all goodness. Irenaeus’s understanding of Valentinian theology draws heavily from such Ptolemaic interpretations.
Marcos and the Marcosians: Sacred Numbers and Seductive Rituals
Marcos, teaching in Asia Minor and possibly Gaul in the late second century, fused Valentinian doctrine with Pythagorean numerology and Kabbalistic speculation. His system imbued divine names and sacraments with mystical numerical significance.
More controversially, Marcos is said to have used elaborate rituals and magical arts to seduce influential women, earning criticism from Church Fathers for his theatrical liturgies and charismatic manipulation. His followers, the Marcosians, represent the more esoteric and ritualistic side of Valentinianism. Despite these abuses, Marcos’s theology retained a complex symbolic elegance.
The supposed co-founder Colarbasus is now widely understood to be a philological error—derived from the Hebrew Kol-Arbaʿ (“voice of four”), a mystical reference to the Valentinian Tetrad rather than a historical figure.
Bardesanes of Edessa: Gnostic or Christian Philosopher?
Bardesanes (Bar Daisan), the most enigmatic figure associated with the Valentinian school, was a brilliant Syrian philosopher, astrologer, and poet. He flourished at the royal court of Edessa in the late second and early third century.
The tradition surrounding Bardesanes is conflicted:
– Epiphanius claims he began orthodox and later strayed due to Valentinian influence.
– Eusebius, conversely, asserts he started as a heretic but later opposed Marcion and embraced orthodoxy.
Modern scholars cautiously place Bardesanes within the outer fringes of Gnosticism. His extant Dialogue on Fate—preserved in Syriac and largely free from Gnostic mythology—argues against fatalism and affirms a more Christian worldview. It lacks the elaborate aeonic hierarchies or dualistic cosmology found in Valentinian texts.
More than a theologian, Bardesanes was a cultural innovator. He (or his son Harmonius) pioneered Syrian hymnology, composing a corpus of 150 psalms that shaped the early liturgical life of Mesopotamian Christianity. Though these were later replaced by the orthodox hymns of Ephraem the Syrian, Bardesanes’ influence on music, poetry, and theology was substantial and enduring.
Harmonius: The Hymnodist of Edessa
Harmonius, Bardesanes’ son, followed his father in both philosophical and poetic pursuits. He reportedly studied in Athens and brought back Hellenistic influences to Edessa. He adapted Syriac into metrical forms and developed liturgical melodies that persisted for generations.
While some sources credit Bardesanes himself with the 150 hymns, others assign them to Harmonius. Most likely, father and son collaborated in this work, planting the seeds of Syriac Christian hymnody, which would later flourish under Ephraem.
The Transformation of Valentinian Thought
The disciples of Valentinus did not merely echo their master—they reshaped his mythos to meet diverse intellectual and spiritual appetites. From Heracleon’s allegorical exegesis to Marcos’ mystical rites, from Ptolemy’s dualistic theology to Bardesanes’ poetic theology, the Valentinian school represents the most intellectually elastic and artistically rich current within second-century Gnosticism.
Yet this very plasticity rendered it vulnerable to corruption. Over time, its deeper aspirations were often diluted into spiritual elitism or magical artifice. In refuting them, the Church honed its theology, clarified the canon, and deepened its devotion to the incarnate Word. The Valentinian school faded, but its challenge helped the early Church define what it meant to confess Jesus Christ—fully God, fully man, crucified and risen—not as symbol, but as the truth.
