Heresy Type Indicator: Manichaeism

By Fr. Jerry Pokorsky ( bio - articles - email ) | Nov 10, 2025

Various psychological tests claim to promote self-understanding. The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, for example, helps us identify our personality types. Years ago—perhaps less so today—the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) was used to screen out potential psychopaths from sensitive professions. (If someone admits to being “preoccupied with terrible murderous thoughts,” it’s fair to say that a career in the helping professions may not be ideal.)

However, there are no tests to reveal our heretical tendencies. Why not start a Heresy Type Indicator today? Our spiritual and religious errors can be far more destructive than our psychological and emotional ones. After all, heresies corrupt the central metaphysical operating system of the soul, to borrow a computer metaphor.

Here’s a first question: Who is the opposite of the Devil?

If your instinctive answer is “God” or “Jesus,” you’re leaning toward the ancient Gnostic heresy of Manichaeism. It’s a trick question, but revealing. God has no opposite. God has absolute dominion. He reigns over heaven and earth, matter and spirit, light and darkness alike. In a limited sense, the Devil’s opposite would be another angel: St. Michael the Archangel. Yet even Michael is but an archangel—far below the once-glorious Lucifer, now eternally degraded by pride.

The Manicheans believed in two coequal gods: one good and one evil, representing a god of light and a god of darkness, as well as spirit and matter. This dualism has a certain intellectual allure—it seems to explain the world’s conflicts and our inner struggles. Lucifer himself, “the god of darkness,” sees himself as God’s equal. Even St. Augustine, before his conversion, was drawn to this error. When grace enlightened him, he rejected dualism and embraced the embodied reality of the faith, becoming one of our greatest Catholic theologians.

Some may dismiss such theological discussions as pious armchair academic piffle. Evil, as Augustine and Aquinas teach, is the absence of good. But every heresy has grave, lasting, and practical consequences. Many of us, as our earlier “test” suggests, instinctively think of God as the Devil’s opposite. That very impulse shows how deeply the Manichean mindset persists.

The 20th century, and our own, have witnessed a resurgence of Manichean thinking on a global scale. Entire nations have demonized their enemies as embodiments of absolute evil. In the Middle Ages, foes were to be defeated; in the modern era, they must be annihilated. The logic of Manichaeism leaves no room for compromise: a “good” Manichean cannot negotiate with a “bad” one.

Jesus teaches us a different way, the arduous way of the Cross: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you…” (Mt. 5:43-48)

We, too, have often become practical Manicheans—within our nation, our communities, even our families. We are quick to demonize opponents and slow to see their humanity. Justice sometimes requires opposing or even defeating our enemies—but never at the cost of denying their dignity as creatures of God. They, too, are His handiwork. When we deny the humanity of our enemies, we degrade our own humanity and reveal our capacity for hate and murder.

The Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St. John Lateran may seem obscure, yet it offers a timely reminder. This basilica is the seat of the Vicar of Christ, the successor of Peter. From the throne of the basilica, the Holy Father rules the Church. This ancient basilica, which has outlasted generation after generation of popes, testifies to the goodness of God’s creation, reliable apostolic Catholic doctrine, and the sanctification of history. In every basilica and church, we plant one foot in time and history, and another in the eternity of heaven.

As the Lateran basilica endures through centuries of conflict and reform, it stands as a sign that the material world, sanctified by God, is not the enemy of the spirit but its dwelling place. Physical temples—like our own bodies and communities—are sacred because God made them. Our bodies express our souls. At the end of time, our bodies will be reunited with our souls in the Resurrection of the Dead. To despise creation as evil is itself Manichaean —and to do so is to dehumanize ourselves.

St. Paul teaches that we are temples of the Holy Spirit. Jesus taught in the Temple of Jerusalem and even referred to His own Body as a temple. As the Word made flesh, He reconciles heaven and earth, God and man. If we allow Him to reign in our hearts, He will reconcile not only our souls but also our families, communities, and nations.

There is “a time for war, and a time for peace.” (Eccl. 3:8) Our adversaries may need correction—even righteous anger in lethal opposition—but never absolute annihilation. The Golden Rule requires that we always consider the humanity of our enemies—whether in our families, communities, or worldview. Everyone needs redemption and salvation. As we strive to understand our enemies in our households and in the world, we may pray with the words of St. Augustine: “There, but for the grace of God, goes I.”

We all have our Manichaean hatred triggers. But the Incarnation provides a safety switch. The same God who unites heaven and earth teaches us to see His image in those we are tempted to despise. When we find ourselves preoccupied with “murderous Manichaean thoughts,” it may be time to sit quietly before the tabernacle, where the vigil lamp burns before the presence of the living God, Jesus Christ, the Word made flesh.