The Birth of Christianity from a Jaynesian Perspective: Faith as Consciously-interiorized Belief

[bmcveigh]

By the early 300s CE perhaps only 5% of the Roman Empire’s population was Christian. But Constantine’s “conversion” in 312 CE initiated a gradual spiritual transformation of the Empire. In 380 CE the Edict of Thessalonica proclaimed Nicene Christianity as the official religion of the Empire, granting what had been a small cult the resources, influence, and authority of officialdom. By the last century of the Western Roman Empire Christianity had become the dominant form of spirituality. Supposedly Christianity owed its success, like certain other mystery cults, in how it appealed to those who were not allowed to participate in the public state cults and patriarchal domestic practices. Those searching for spiritual sustenance, especially women, slaves, and ex-slaves, looked to exotic and foreign faiths. I suspect, however, that there is more to the story. Christianity, I submit, like other mystery cults, grew in popularity due to shifts in mentality. Seen from the perspective of the grand sweep of history, admittedly, these changes are not easily discernible. Nevertheless, something of significance was afoot in the several centuries before and after year zero.

Faith as Consciously-interiorized Belief. My argument will not make sense unless some historical perspective is introduced. In the preconscious period disbelief or skepticism about the gods was culturally impossible. No one questioned the reality of the supernatural order, whose very existence was irrefutable. Indeed, the existence of distinct spiritual traditions was regarded neither as a cause of conflict nor a theological problem. Instead, polytheistic universalism assumed that all gods, no matter their provenance, deserved acknowledgment and worship (this accommodation of foreign gods is also called or pantheologism). Preconscious individuals lacked what I call “faith”; I am using this term in a technical sense to mean the conscious interiorization of belief. Faith always leaves a door open, even if slight, to challenges to one’s convictions, even among the most committed. But in preconscious times faith did not exist. Instead, beliefs were “doxa,” i.e., they were deeply implicit, taken-for-granted, and incontrovertibly self-evident.

Faith, unlike doxa, is wrapped up in volition and therefore contains a kernel of unsettled uncertainty. So, it must be authorized by codified principles, fixed doctrines, and established canon. Vows, oaths, and pledges also prop faith up, helping to stabilize any shakiness caused by debatable tenets and personal doubts. Such declarations of orthodoxy are especially salient when a community is threatened and demonstrations of loyalty are used to prove one’s support.

The loss of voices and visions by the first millennium BCE led to existentialist qualms about one’s own belief and that of others; the unwavering credence and rock-solid certainty of bicameral times was shattered. Due to growing trade and inter-cultural contact, peoples began to compare their belief systems with others on a more regular basis. But polytheistic universalism could no longer accommodate what was becoming drastic differences. It is inappropriate, then, to talk of faith in bicameral times. People have always had beliefs, of course, but faith carries an explicit, volitional, and intentional sense.

Roman Religion. Ancient Roman spirituality was diverse, cosmopolitan and, within limits, tolerant. Vestiges of an earlier mentality (i.e., a double psychology of divine power plus mortal follower) infused all aspects of life in a way that moderns might find surprising if they view the Romans as practical, no-nonsense, and sensible. Religio, the observance of moral rules in daily life, meant fulfilling obligations towards the gods and was bound up with res publica (“matters of public interest”). At the apex of the theopolitical system were cults associated with the state and the emperor, while the private household was the abode of a colorful collection of deified ancestors, ghosts, and assorted domestic spirts and deities. Officialdom was concerned with orthopraxy (correct behavior); religio was more about knowledge that informed procedural practices (how to worship and make sacrifices) rather than an explicitly-verbalized faith. In other words, proper practice and conduct were given more attention than orthodoxy (correct belief), which in any case was quite diverse and difficult to police. By the first century BCE religio would develop into an autonomous intellectual domain of inquiry. Magic and superstitio, the latter understood as excessive religious behavior or a misapplication of spiritual practices, were illicit practices regulated and at times suppressed by the state.

Admittedly my argument is somewhat speculative and the evidence is patchy. In any case, though the Romans obviously possessed Jaynesian consciousness, we must keep in mind that this mentality is a constellation of features that, depending on historical, cultural, and individual differences, varies in intensity (this is true today, i.e., each feature is characterized by a matter of degree). The highlighting of particular facets of conscious interiority is apparent in the spread of Christianity and mystery religions, e.g., the cults of Orpheus, Mithra, Dionysus, Serapis, Isis, and Jupiter Dolichenus, as well as the Eleusinian and Samothracian mysteries. The specific features in question include self-individuation, self-autonomy, and self-authorization. These aspects of subjective introspectable self-awareness became more salient in the late republican and imperial periods as civilization became even more complex (presumably because of tectonic sociopolitical shifts, a topic I will leave aside for now). In the Greco-Roman world during the last centuries of the western Empire, then, a significant shift occurred.

Scholars have not been successful in attempts to see how the mystery cults directly influenced Christianity. However, both the mystery cults and Christianity developed in the same ideological environment that cultivated the aforementioned features of conscious interiority. Increasingly interiorizing the “right” beliefs seems to have been the focus of spirituality; thus the debate about which should be given priority, good deeds or inner faith. This certainly became the overriding issue for the state-backed version of Christianity that suppressed about thirty “heresies” during its first 600 years (though unorthodox theological tributaries would flow down through the centuries, bubbling up with great force during the medieval—e.g., Cathars—and the early modern ages).

Related to the emphasis on orthodoxy is proselytizing, i.e., radically changing someone’s belief system. The emergence of proselytizing faiths (Zoroastrianism, Manichaeism, Buddhism, Christianity, Islam), is premised on the interesting psychology of “conversion.” This was another consequence of conscious interiorization. In addition to issues of sociopolitical control, modifying an individual’s set of ideas heavy with personal significance highlights how self-individuation, a feature of interiority, had become central to spirituality. Converting others is based on the notion that the introcosm of another is lacking something, i.e., the subjective contents of a specific set of convictions. And conversion is typically not just about adopting a certain creed; it also demands the conscious abandonment of what were once one’s guiding principles.

[benjamindavidsteele]

That is an interesting post, if only initial thoughts. But I might sense where you could bring such an argument. All of what you described certainly played a role. I can say that as someone who has long been interested in early Christianity and the surrounding religious culture. You are correct about interiorization being important. An example of that is how Christians adopted liberty of the soul from the Stoics, linked to the martyrdom narratives that they also got from the same source. That is very much about Jaynesian consciousness.

Yet other parts of Christianity carry forward many bicameral remnants. Think of Jesus speaking of body parts as if they have their own separate minds, which was far from uncommon at that time. The physician Galen described hysteria as the uterus pulling away and that it needed sweet scents to lure it back to its proper place. Even in terms of the mystery cults, there is a lot going on. Some have argued that the mystery cults, including Christianity, were psychedelic cults. There are some ancient descriptions that indicate they were taking psychoactive substances. For what it's worth, some medieval churches had psilocybin images.

Also, keep in mind that original Christianity was a charismatic cult, as described by Stephen J. Patterson in The Forgotten Creed. He zeroes in on the Pauline Epistles, particularly Galatians 3:28. Like other charismatics, they emphasized egalitarianism, specifically in denying essentialist reality to race, class, and gender. This wasn't only about belief but also practice and presumably lived experience. In contradiction to respectable Romans and Jews, Christian women let their hair hang loose, Christian men let their hair grow long, both genders danced ecstatically together, and they spoke in tongues.

This wasn't limited to ecstatic practice. Women and slaves were also allowed to hold high positions in the church. That is to say one's social position in the larger society had no significance within the early church, a situation that worried Paul who realized this made them disreputable and hence a target. Rather than being good proto-individuals within the Jewish and/or Roman order, they were heavily emphasizing a disintegration of social distinctions within ecstatic communalism, where the Holy Spirit would've been a group experience. In some cases, they went as far as Christian communes where everything was shared, and positions were divinely determined by picking lots.

I bring all of that up for a reason. It's not clear to me how any of it ultimately supported Jaynesian consciousness, at least within the first generations of Christians. One might suspect it would, instead, have elicited more of the bicameral-like bundled mind. Christianity is one of those religions that, at least initially, attempted to straddle the intermediary space between what came before and what was developing. But of course, that changed over the ensuing centuries once Christianity became part of the dominant Roman culture that was increasingly incorporating Jaynesian consciousness (e.g., the former Manichaean Augustine).