The call is uttered by one who has been sent into the world for this purpose and in whose person the transcendent Life once more takes upon itself the stranger’s fate: he is the Messenger or Envoy—in relation to the world, the Alien Man. Ruha says to the Planets:

The man does not belong to us, and his speech is not your speech. He has no connection with you. . . . His speech comes from without.

(G 258)

The name “the alien” indicates the kinds of reception he finds down here: the welcoming exultation of those who feel themselves alien and exiled here (“Adam felt love for the Alien Man whose speech is alien, estranged from the world”—G 244); the shocked surprise of the cosmic powers who do not comprehend what is happening in their midst (“What has the Stranger done in the house, that he could found himself a party therein?”—G 122); finally, the hostile banding together of the sons of the house against the intruder (“We will kill the Stranger. . . . We will confound his party, so that he may have no share in the world. The whole house shall be ours alone”—G 121 f.). The immediate effect of his appearance down here is forcefully described in the Gospel   of Truth:

When the Word appeared, the Word which is in the hearts of those who pronounce It—and It was not only a sound, but It had taken on a body as well—a great confusion reigned among the vessels, for some had been emptied, others filled; some were provided for, others were overthrown; some were sanctified, still others were broken to pieces. All the spaces (?) were shaken and confused, for they had no fixity nor stability. “Error” was agitated, not knowing what it should do. It was afflicted, and lamented and worried because it knew nothing. Since the Gnosis, which is the perdition of “Error” and all its Emanations, approached it, “Error” became empty, there being nothing more in it.

(GT 26:4-27)

Thus, to retrieve its own, Life in one of its unfallen members once more undertakes to descend into the dungeon of the world, “to clothe itself in the affliction of the worlds” and to assume the lot of exile far from the realm of light. This we may call the second descent of the divine, as distinct from the tragic earlier one which led to the situation that now has to be redeemed. Whereas formerly the Life now entangled in the world got into it by way of “fall,” “sinking,” “being thrown,” “being taken captive,” its entrance this time is of a very different nature: sent by the Great Life and invested with authority, the Alien Man does not fall but betakes himself into the world.

One call comes and instructs about all calls. One speech comes and instructs about all speech. One beloved Son comes, who was formed from the womb of splendor. . . . His image is kept safe in its place. He comes with the illumination of life, with the command which his Father imparts. He comes in the garment of living fire and betakes himself into thy [Ruha’s] world.

(G 90)

I am Yokabar-Kushta, who have gone forth from my Father’s house and come hither. I have come hither with hidden splendor and with light without end.

(G 318)

The going forth and coming hither have to be taken literally in their spatial meaning: they really lead, in the sense of an actual “way,” from outside into the enclosure of the world, and in the passage have to penetrate through all its concentric shells, i.e., the manifold spheres or aeons or worlds, in order to get to the innermost space, where man is imprisoned.

For his sake send me, Father!

Holding the seals will I descend,

through all the Aeons will I take my way,

all the Mysteries will I unlock,

the forms of the gods will I make manifest,

the secrets of the sacred Way,

known as Knowledge, I will transmit.

(Naassene “Psalm of the Soul”)

This passage through the cosmic system is in the nature of a breaking through, thereby already a victory over its powers.

In the name of him who came, in the name of him who comes, and in the name of him who is to be brought forth. In the name of that Alien Man who forced his way through the worlds, came, split the firmament and revealed himself.

(G 197)

Here we have the reason why the mere call of awakening from outside is not enough: not only must men be awakened and called to return, but if their souls are to escape the world, a real breach must be made in the “iron wall” of the firmament, which bars the way outward as well as inward. Only the real act of the godhead in itself entering the system can make that breach: “He broke their watchtowers and made a breach in their fastness” (J 69). “Having penetrated into terror’s empty spaces, He placed Himself at the head of those who were stripped by Oblivion” (Gosp. of Truth, p. 20, 34-38). Thus already by the mere fact of his descent the Messenger prepares the way for the ascending souls. Depending on the degree of spiritualization in different systems, however, the emphasis may shift increasingly from this mythological function to the purely religious one embodied in the call as such and the teaching it has to convey, and thereby also to the individual response to the call as the human contribution to salvation. Such is the function of Jesus in the Valentinian Gospel of Truth:

Through Him He enlightened those who were in darkness because of “Oblivion.” He enlightened them and indicated a path for them; and that path is the Truth which He taught them. It was because of this that “Error” became angry with Him, persecuted Him, oppressed Him, annihilated Him.

(GT 18:16-24)

Here, incidentally, we have as much as the “Christian” Gnostics in general could make of the passion of Christ and of the reason for it: it is due to the enmity of the powers of the lower creation (the cosmic principle: “Error”—usually personified in the Archons), threatened in their dominion and very existence by his mission; and often enough, the suffering and death they are able to inflict upon him are not real at all.29

Now in the last analysis he who comes is identical with him to whom he comes: Life the Savior with the life to be saved. The Alien from without comes to him who is alien in the world, and the same descriptive terms can in a striking way alternate between the two. Both in suffering and in triumph, it is often impossible to distinguish which of the two is speaking or to whom a statement refers. The prisoner here is also called “the alien man” (cf. J 67 ff., where the name is applied to the man to be saved), and he regains as it were this quality through the encounter with the Alien sent from without:

I am an alien man. . . . I beheld the Life and the Life beheld me. My provisions for the journey come from the Alien Man whom the Life willed and planted. I shall come amongst the good whom this Alien Man has loved.

(G 273)

There is a strong suggestion of an active-passive double role of one and the same entity. Ultimately the descending Alien redeems himself, that is, that part of himself (the Soul) once lost to the world, and for its sake he himself must become a stranger in the land of darkness and in the end a “saved savior.” “The Life supported the Life, the Life found its own” (Mandäische Liturgien, p. 111).

This seeking, finding, and gathering of its own is a long-drawn-out process bound to the spatio-temporal form of cosmic existence. “I wandered through worlds and generations until I came to the gate of Jerusalem” (J 243). This leads to the idea that the savior does not come just once into the world but that from the beginning of time he wanders in different forms through history, himself exiled in the world, and revealing himself ever anew until, with his gathering-in complete, he can be released from his cosmic mission (the doctrine is most completely presented in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies—see quotation from III. 20 on p. 230). Apart from the changing human incarnations, the constant form of his presence is precisely the other-worldly call resounding through the world and representing the alien in its midst; and between his manifestations he walks invisible through time.

From the place of light have I gone forth,

from thee, bright habitation.

I come to feel the hearts,

to measure and try all minds,

to see in whose heart I dwell,

in whose mind I repose.

Who thinks of me, of him I think:

who calls my name, his name I call.

Who prays my prayer from down below,

his prayer I pray from the place of light. . . .

I came and found

the truthful and believing hearts.

When I was not dwelling among them,

yet my name was on their lips.

I took them and guided them up to the world of light. . . .

(G 389 f.) [Hans Jonas  ]