Gnostic Identity in the Therapeutic Age (Albert Norton, 7/21/25, Voegelin View)
We all feel a tragic sense, owing to awareness of mortality, and of evil, and of our own part in evil. Though we revere human life in the abstract, we’re intensely aware of the moral imperfections of humanity. We know justice is real, and so we know judgment is real, even if we don’t experience it immediately within this finite life in the body. We know we’re going to die, and this is difficult to reconcile with the weighty significance we attach to human life, especially our own.
We also know, even if we attempt to avert our eyes in the moment, that there is a moral structure to our existence, and that it is not of our own invention, individually or collectively. That structure means that what we do and fail to do in this life is consequential. It results in the heaviness of being that many find unbearable, tempting one to adopt in its place the fiction that good and evil are merely words we attach to what we collectively like and don’t like. The tragic sense springs from our awareness of moral significance, and from our moral failings, and our mortality, and the reality of justice. It is the seed of faith, but it can also motivate corrupted visions of reality, as with early Gnosticism and postmodern ideologies that Voegelin correctly identified as “Gnostic.” […]
Here is how, in his The New Science of Politics, Eric Voegelin described the sense religion leaves us with even after the Resurrection:
Uncertainty is the very essence of Christianity. The feeling of security in a “world full of gods” [i.e., the pagan world] is lost with the gods themselves; when the world is de—divinized, communication with the world-transcendent God is reduced to the tenuous bond of faith, in the sense of Hebrews 11:1, as the substance of things hoped for and the proof of things unseen. Ontologically the substance of things hoped for is nowhere to be found but in faith itself; and, epistemologically, there is no proof for things unseen but again this very faith. The bond is tenuous indeed, and may snap easily. The life of the soul in openness toward God, the waiting, the periods of aridity and dullness, guilt and despondency, contrition and repentance, forsakenness and hope against hope, the silent stirrings of love and grace, trembling on the verge of a certainty which if gained is loss—the very lightness of this fabric may prove too heavy a burden for men who lust for massively possessive experience.
These kinds of observations are attributable to many other thinkers, including but not limited to Philip Rieff, a seminal thinker on the impact of the rise of the therapeutic mentality. Voegelin is particularly relevant here, however, because he invoked “Gnosticism” to explain the advance of “speculative systems,” ideologies that supplant religious faith. As he suggests in this passage, the worldview of faith is perhaps a too-light undemanding burden; airy compared to the heavens teeming with pagan gods that preceded it. It is a relief to mankind, but it does not eliminate the tragic sense and requires much social reinforcement.
Every ism/ideology is driven by the need to escape from the reality of our Fallen nature. The fact that we are not merely imperfectable but prone to sin leads people to try and hide behind the silliest theories, lately the denial of Free Will.