Numenius is mentioned by Clement of Alexandria and used by the philosopher Atticus, providing a terminus ad quem ca. 175 CE. On the other hand, he mentions a first century 'methodist' doctor, Mnaseas. Some references give his date as "middle second century," thus hugging close to the use of his work by Atticus. On the other hand, it's possible (but not a given) that his work was written as early as, for example, 100 CE.
We find this description of Numenius, which is a useful introduction (if not free from all flaws), from George Karamanolis (2009, edited 2021) at the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
Numenius faces two challenges. First, how can the first God be the ultimate cause of everything, as it appears it ought to be (fr. 16.1–2, 9), if it is inert? Second how can it be simple, as Numenius has claimed, if it is, as he has also claimed, an intellect that thinks? Numenius maintains that the first or highest God, or first intellect, brings about a second one (frs. 13, 21.7), in fact the divine demiurge, and uses this second intellect as an instrument of its thinking (fr. 22.1–2). It is not clear what this instrumental use (proschrêsis fr. 22.2) amounts to, but we find similar vocabulary in the Timaeus (28a7) for the use of the Forms by the demiurge. It is clearer however that the second intellect thinks of the Forms and creates by imposing them on matter (fr. 18.10). Numenius is inspired again by the Timaeus. On the basis of Timaeus 39e7-9 he believes that the demiurge encompasses all Forms in him. To the extent that all other Forms exist by participating in the Form of the Good (frs. 16.2–5, 46b–c), which is identical with the first intellect, this intellect accounts also for the (other) Forms (Frede 1987, 1060–1063), while it is the second god who actually thinks of them. The first intellect thinks only itself, like the Aristotelian God of Metaphysics Lambda, and in this sense its being and its object of thought are identical. Hence the first God remains absolutely simple, pure goodness, is at rest and inert, while the second god is in motion (fr. 15.3–4), is not simple, because it contains the Forms of all entities, and is good only because of its relation to the first God, the Form of the Good, a relation which Numenius describes as “imitation” (fr. 16.15), or as “participation” (frs. 19.9–11, 20.7–10). This, however, does not mean that Numenius considers the demiurge to be ignorant and a less than good creator and in this sense like the demiurge of the Gnostics, as Dillon (1977, 369) has argued. Although clearly the demiurge is not as good as the first God, however, for Numenius the demiurge is a recipient of the goodness of the highest God, the Good, and in turn transmits this goodness to the world which it brings into existence (frs. 14,16, 19). In this respect Numenius' demiurge is clearly different from the creator god of the Gnostics.
Yet creation is a process which, according to the Timaeus, can be divided into two stages, the demiurgic intellect's thinking of the Forms of all entities and its imposing them on matter. Numenius maintains that the demiurgic intellect, the second god in his hierarchy, splits into two when engaged in the creation in the world, because matter, which is required for and involved in creation, is such that it divides whatever has anything to do with it. One reason why matter divides is because it inspires desire in the demiurge (fr. 11.13–16), presumably desire for imposing order and goodness. As a result, the demiurge is divided into one intellect which continues contemplating the Forms and another which imposes Forms on matter and thus orders matter (frs. 11.14–20, 16.10–12, 21.4–5). This means that the demiurgic intellect engages in creation through a third god, that is a third intellect (frs. 21.3–5, 22.4), which is thinking in a discursive way (dianooumenon; fr. 22.4), not in the purely contemplative way that the demiurgic intellect thinks. This third god is conceived along the lines of the world-soul of the Timaeus; it is perhaps fair to say that for Numenius the god that actually engages in creation is in effect the world-soul of Plato's Timaeus (Baltes 1975, 267). Numenius uses very metaphorical language, inspired by the myth of Plato's Statesman, in order to present what the demiurge does and how it thinks in doing it. He argues that it is like a helmsman steering a ship using the Forms as instrument (fr. 18 with Statesman 272e; cf. Timaeus 39e). Despite the metaphorical language, two things become reasonably clear. First, this intellect, the world-soul, is also active in preserving order and maintaining the world in existence (frs. 12.14–19, 18, 52.91–8). Secondly, the third god desires to create (fr. 11.16–20, 18.7–13), which amounts to saying that God, in the person of this third intellect, wants to impose order in the world because order is good (see Deuse 1983, 65–67). Since this third intellect is directly responsible for the existence of the world, it is ultimately not distinguishable from the world itself (fr. 21.3), which according to Timaeus 34b1 is god, because it is this which keeps the world together (see also Tarrant 1979).
There is a question of how to understand Numenius' hierarchy of three gods. Should we take seriously Proclus' testimonies that suggest there are in fact three (frs. 21–22), or the fragments of Numenius preserved by Eusebius which suggest that there are actually only two (frs. 15–16, 20)? The question becomes accentuated in view of Numenius' statement that the second and third gods are one, using the verb “to be” in the singular (estin; fr. 11.14–15) in referring to them together. Frede (1987, 1057–1059) has argued convincingly that the unity of the two does not mean their identity. The demiurge is split into two because of the effect of matter. The second god is divisible in the same way that some other intelligible entities, such as human and animal soul, are (fr. 41.6). Soul remains essentially the same in all animate beings and yet is divided, in the process of ensoulment of the things that it makes animate. This is the case with the demiurge as well. That Numenius proposed a hierarchy of three distinct gods, rather than two (thus Holzhausen 1992, 253–254), or three aspects of one god (Krämer 1964, 88), is strengthened by the fact that Christians like Origen and Eusebius, being Trinitarians, approve of his theology.
Numenius' three gods are the principles of being (first God) and generation (second and third god; fr. 16), and thus of everything that exists. And because the highest god is absolute goodness, the world of generation becomes good and beautiful (fr. 16.16–17). Numenius advanced the idea that goodness is transmitted from the highest God through the second, demiurgic intellect, which realizes creation through a third intellect, to the world without God actually doing anything (fr. 14.6–14), an idea further developed later by Plotinus (cf. Enneads I.6, III.8, V.8).
Yet creation is a process which, according to the Timaeus, can be divided into two stages, the demiurgic intellect's thinking of the Forms of all entities and its imposing them on matter. Numenius maintains that the demiurgic intellect, the second god in his hierarchy, splits into two when engaged in the creation in the world, because matter, which is required for and involved in creation, is such that it divides whatever has anything to do with it. One reason why matter divides is because it inspires desire in the demiurge (fr. 11.13–16), presumably desire for imposing order and goodness. As a result, the demiurge is divided into one intellect which continues contemplating the Forms and another which imposes Forms on matter and thus orders matter (frs. 11.14–20, 16.10–12, 21.4–5). This means that the demiurgic intellect engages in creation through a third god, that is a third intellect (frs. 21.3–5, 22.4), which is thinking in a discursive way (dianooumenon; fr. 22.4), not in the purely contemplative way that the demiurgic intellect thinks. This third god is conceived along the lines of the world-soul of the Timaeus; it is perhaps fair to say that for Numenius the god that actually engages in creation is in effect the world-soul of Plato's Timaeus (Baltes 1975, 267). Numenius uses very metaphorical language, inspired by the myth of Plato's Statesman, in order to present what the demiurge does and how it thinks in doing it. He argues that it is like a helmsman steering a ship using the Forms as instrument (fr. 18 with Statesman 272e; cf. Timaeus 39e). Despite the metaphorical language, two things become reasonably clear. First, this intellect, the world-soul, is also active in preserving order and maintaining the world in existence (frs. 12.14–19, 18, 52.91–8). Secondly, the third god desires to create (fr. 11.16–20, 18.7–13), which amounts to saying that God, in the person of this third intellect, wants to impose order in the world because order is good (see Deuse 1983, 65–67). Since this third intellect is directly responsible for the existence of the world, it is ultimately not distinguishable from the world itself (fr. 21.3), which according to Timaeus 34b1 is god, because it is this which keeps the world together (see also Tarrant 1979).
There is a question of how to understand Numenius' hierarchy of three gods. Should we take seriously Proclus' testimonies that suggest there are in fact three (frs. 21–22), or the fragments of Numenius preserved by Eusebius which suggest that there are actually only two (frs. 15–16, 20)? The question becomes accentuated in view of Numenius' statement that the second and third gods are one, using the verb “to be” in the singular (estin; fr. 11.14–15) in referring to them together. Frede (1987, 1057–1059) has argued convincingly that the unity of the two does not mean their identity. The demiurge is split into two because of the effect of matter. The second god is divisible in the same way that some other intelligible entities, such as human and animal soul, are (fr. 41.6). Soul remains essentially the same in all animate beings and yet is divided, in the process of ensoulment of the things that it makes animate. This is the case with the demiurge as well. That Numenius proposed a hierarchy of three distinct gods, rather than two (thus Holzhausen 1992, 253–254), or three aspects of one god (Krämer 1964, 88), is strengthened by the fact that Christians like Origen and Eusebius, being Trinitarians, approve of his theology.
Numenius' three gods are the principles of being (first God) and generation (second and third god; fr. 16), and thus of everything that exists. And because the highest god is absolute goodness, the world of generation becomes good and beautiful (fr. 16.16–17). Numenius advanced the idea that goodness is transmitted from the highest God through the second, demiurgic intellect, which realizes creation through a third intellect, to the world without God actually doing anything (fr. 14.6–14), an idea further developed later by Plotinus (cf. Enneads I.6, III.8, V.8).
I would consider that George Karamanolis is basically accurate in correcting Dillon on the point that this "does not mean that Numenius considers the demiurge to be ignorant and a less than good creator and in this sense like the demiurge of the Gnostics." I don't know how hard we can press on the point of contrast, other than saying that different ideas are expressed.
Langseth, who I discuss below, would take exception to the opinion of Karamanolis that the third god is "not distinguishable from the world." Langseth writes (p. 107 n. 195):
Martano’s summary of the Three Gods is mostly accurate, except that he remains deceived by Proclus’ statement that the Third God is the cosmos. The last sentence of fr. 11 makes this view impossible, since the Third God “touches the sensible realm and handles it, and moreover lifts it up to his own character,” i.e. he creates the world.
The idea that there are three - the First, the Second, and the Third - is suggested, "in a riddling way," in the pseudepigraphic 2nd letter of Plato:
https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/te ... 4:letter=2
For, according to his report, you say that you have not had a sufficient demonstration of the doctrine concerning the nature of “the First.” Now I must expound it to you in a riddling way in order that, should the tablet come to any harm “in folds of ocean or of earth,” he that readeth may not understand.
The matter stands thus: Related to the King of All are all things, and for his sake they are, and of all things fair He is the cause. And related to the Second are the second things and related to the Third the third. About these, then, the human soul strives to learn, looking to the things that are akin to itself, whereof none is fully perfect. But as to the King and the objects I have mentioned, they are of quite different quality. In the next place the soul inquires— “Well then, what quality have they?” But the cause of all the mischief, O son of Dionysius and Doris, lies in this very question, or rather in the travail which this question creates in the soul; and unless a man delivers himself from this he will never really attain the truth.
The matter stands thus: Related to the King of All are all things, and for his sake they are, and of all things fair He is the cause. And related to the Second are the second things and related to the Third the third. About these, then, the human soul strives to learn, looking to the things that are akin to itself, whereof none is fully perfect. But as to the King and the objects I have mentioned, they are of quite different quality. In the next place the soul inquires— “Well then, what quality have they?” But the cause of all the mischief, O son of Dionysius and Doris, lies in this very question, or rather in the travail which this question creates in the soul; and unless a man delivers himself from this he will never really attain the truth.
Numenius regarded Socrates and Plato as the tradents of Pythagorean knowledge, and he faults them for stating things ambiguously, putting at least some of the blame on Plato for the disagreements of the philosophers who came after him. On such a view, Numenius would think that Plato had the knowledge that is stated here ambiguously - on the First, the Second, and the Third - and that Plato would have known what their qualities were.
Three important terms here - Agathos (good), Nous (mind), Demiurge (craftsman) - all go back to Plato, especially the Timaeus:
https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/plato-timaeus/
In the Timaeus Plato presents an elaborately wrought account of the formation of the universe and an explanation of its impressive order and beauty. The universe, he proposes, is the product of rational, purposive, and beneficent agency. It is the handiwork of a divine Craftsman (“Demiurge,” dêmiourgos, 28a6) who, imitating an unchanging and eternal model, imposes mathematical order on a preexistent chaos to generate the ordered universe (kosmos). The governing explanatory principle of the account is teleological: the universe as a whole as well as its various parts are so arranged as to produce a vast array of good effects. For Plato this arrangement is not fortuitous, but the outcome of the deliberate intent of Intellect (nous), anthropomorphically represented by the figure of the Craftsman who plans and constructs a world that is as excellent as its nature permits it to be.
The idea that Numenius in his work On the Good was influenced by the 2nd letter of Plato and the Timaeus, as well as prior Platonism and Pythagoreanism, to develop an idea regarding three gods is a fairly typical understanding (with some variation as noted above). Joshua Langseth provides this outline of the six books of this work, now known only through fragments.
https://iro.uiowa.edu/esploro/outputs/d ... 6860702771
- Book 1 attempts to use dialectical reasoning to reconstruct the “arguments” (logoi) of Pythagoras.
- Book 2 attempts to find confirmation of these arguments in the Platonic dialogues.
- Book 3 attempts to find further confirmation in the traditions of the “peoples of good repute.”
- Book 4 is lost, but likely treated the necessity of a lower creator god beneath the highest god who is “free of labor.”
- Book 5 introduces the Three Gods, who should be understood as the highest god, and two aspects of the lower god: a contemplative aspect and a creative aspect.
- Book 6 ties together the themes of the dialogue as a whole, and concludes that the Good is God.
Numenius was by all ancient accounts a towering figure. We know that Origen of Caesarea praised his esteem for non-Greek wisdom over and against Celsus’ petulant faultfinding (fr. 1b). Later, the Athenian Academy accused Plotinus of plagiarizing Numenius. Porphyry also informs us that Plotinus lectured on Numenius’ work in his Roman seminar, and had a Numenian specialist in his circle named Amelius. In Arnobius’ day (fl. AD 300), a full century after Numenius’ own, there were still adherents of Numenius and of Numenius’ mysterious associate Cronius
Langseth sees the third book as providing a bridge from theoretical metaphysics to a discussion of theology, by way of introducing another way of knowing the subject, which is with reference to myth and analogy:
There is enough, however, to show that the material treated in Book 3 is transitional, not only from metaphysics to theology, but from one mode of apprehension (philosophical inquiry and dialetic) to another (myth and analogy). ... Numenius exercises his broad interests and expansive imagination to tie what he sees as the best of human intellectual accomplishments into a unified whole. Another way to say this is that the ultimate project of the On the Good is an argument for the unity of purpose between what we would understand to be philosophy and religion, of reasoned discourse and metaphor: their common purpose is to know the ultimate and highest truth of the universe, which Numenius calls God. This ambitious goal will set the stage for philosophical and theological speculation (both pagan and Christian) for at least two centuries.
Langseth describes the purpose of his work as showing in multiple ways that Goodness itself is God (p. 19):
Numenius’ purpose is to prove that Goodness Itself is God. His method is to explore the very best human traditions available to him, philosophical and religious. God, or the Good, will turn out to be the ultimate object of all of these traditions.
According to Langseth, the highest principle for the Platonists was always called "God" (variously also known as the Good, or Being, or the One, the Monad). The lowest was "Matter" or the "Indefinite" (aoristos), called a Dyad, "a radical principle of absolute division that lacks coherence and unity altogether" (p. 13). It was common to consider the chaos of sensible matter to be evil. In-between the two is Plato's "Becoming," a world that is subject to change.
Langseth writes that Proclus, Eudorus of Alexandria, and later Christians such as Augustine were "monists," while Plutarch, Numenius himself, and Atticus were "dualists." The difference between the two schools of thought concerns whether only God exists in eternity, or whether matter also has eternal existence. The monists must suppose that "God begins the process of differentiation and division, first into Forms, then into instantiations of Forms, all the way down to the absolute and chaotic differentiation of Matter" (p. 15). For the dualists, the eternal existence of God and Matter resulted in all other things being created through their interaction.
The first fragment shows that the purpose of Numenius encompasses not only reading Plato to discover the philosophy of Pythagoras but also searching out multiple other traditions for agreements:
Therefore, it will be necessary for me to argue and conjecture from the testimonies of Plato, and then relate them back and connect them to the philosophy of Pythagoras; then it will be necessary to invoke the races of good repute. I shall contribute their religious and philosophical teachings, as well as their objects of worship when they are celebrated in conformity with Plato, whatever the Brahmans, the Jews, the Magi, and the Egyptians have instituted.
Langseth writes that "it seems that he allegorized foreign myths to force the conformity rather than using genuinely foreign thought for new insights." (p. 22) And beyond just looking for agreement with Plato (p. 23):
Origen gives us the second clue. He refers directly to this very passage (fr. 1b) and adds that Numenius invokes the non-Greeks that he does because they held “that God is incorporeal.” These two standards by which Numenius selects evidence from non-Greek religion must ultimately accomplish the same end if they are working toward a common goal, whatever that goal is. The topic of discussion is Platonic and incorporeal, but also divine. The third clue is the evidence of the next fragment, in which Numenius discusses defining the “Good.” We can infer from these facts that it is Plato’s concept of the incorporeal Good that is the real topic under discussion here; but more than that, the goal is to understand the Good as an incorporeal god.
The discussion proceeds from the Form of the Good to a conclusion that the Good is the incorporeal God (pp. 27-28):
Numenius is not concerned with God as such in any of the fragments of Book 1, but with the Platonic Form of the Good, which he will eventually identify with a transcendent and incorporeal god. Since there are nonGreek peoples of good repute who, at least according to Numenius, worship such a god (Egyptians, Magi, Brahmans, and Jews), their wisdom can contribute to this discussion. ... He begins with an impersonal principle, the Good, and an attempt to define it. This leads to an attempt to define existence itself, and finally God. It will turn out of course that all three of these (Good, existence, and God), are the same.
The second fragment of Numenius speaks of "Rest, the sovereign cheerfulness that floats upon Existence":
And so it is possible for us to understand corporeal bodies when we conjecture by analogy and from familiar things at hand, but there are no means of understanding the Good from anything at hand nor from any sensory analogy; but, like someone sitting at a watchtower who looks down and sees a small fishing boat—one of those small crafts, alone, solitary, buoyed by the surf—and witnesses the skiff in a single glance, so it is necessary for one to depart far away from sensory objects and commune alone (monôi monos) with the Good. Here there is neither human being nor any other animal, neither corporeal entity great nor small, but a sort of unspeakable and simply unutterable divine solitude. Here the characteristics of the Good are merriment and joy, and in peace and comfort it is Rest, the sovereign cheerfulness that floats upon Existence.
Langseth finds in the phrase "sovereign cheerfulness" a contrast with Stoicism (pp. 34-35):
Concomitant with these is the “sovereign cheerfulness,” an odd phrase and practically oxymoronic. The phrase recalls the Stoic doctrine of the “sovereign Reason” (hêgemonikos logos) that pervades the cosmos and guides the human intellect. Numenius adopts the Stoic term, but he changes the significance. The guiding principle in the contemplation of the Good becomes not an absolute commitment to logic as such, but a search for an otherworldly peace and joy. ... How are we to know whether we have actually found the noetic apprehension of the Good? The test is that this transcendent knowledge brings peace and happiness, a peace and rest and happiness in a solitude that can be described as divine.
In the next fragment, some type of asceticism and the contemplation of numbers is suggested:
If anyone imagines that the Good rushes at him while he persists in the sensory world—even though he might think that he has encountered the Good while he lives immoderately—he is altogether mistaken. For in reality there is need of a discipline—not easy, but godlike—toward it; and it is best for one to pay no mind to the sensory world, but to pursue abstract studies and contemplate numbers, and thus to master the study of what Being is.
Langseth points out that this doesn't imply numerology as such. The study of mathematics is considered preparatory and contemplative, something inherited here from a long philosophical tradition.
In a search for the truth of Existence, the idea that it is Matter is rejected by Numenius: "That which is disorganized is not static, and that which is not static is not Being." This leads to:
However, if it is necessary for it to be separate from the passivity of material objects, so that it might be able to keep corruption away from them when they are set in motion and be able to hold them in place, I do not think that it is anything other than the Incorporeal alone. This is the only nature that is static and stable and not at all corporeal. At any rate, it neither changes nor increases nor makes any other motion, and therefore it seems quite right that the Incorporeal take precedence.
To "the Good," "Being," and "the Incorporeal," Numenius then adds "Eternal," once again expressing that it doesn't change:
Now, then, let us try to approach as closely as possible to Being and speak. Being neither was nor will it ever become, but always it exists in a defined time, in the present alone. And so if one wishes to call this present “eternity” I am in full agreement. We must assume that the past has departed and escaped into no-longer-being. And the future does not yet exist, but promises that it can exist and arrive into being. Accordingly, it is unreasonable to think in any way whatsoever that Being either does not exist or no longer exists or does not yet exist, since when it is said in this way a single great impossibility in the reasoning results, that both being and non-being are the same.
Later "the Incorporeal" (Asomatic) is defined with a name, in positive terms:
Now, such matters are rewarding as far as I am concerned. For my part, though, I will no longer to pretend, and I will not say that I do not know the name of the Incorporeal; and at this point I probably really would take greater pleasure in saying than not. And, what is more, I claim that its name was just a short while ago examined! Now, do not laugh if I say that the name of the Incorporeal is “Existence” and “Being.” The reason why its name is “Being” is that it is neither generated nor corrupted, nor does it accept any other movement or change at all, greater or less, but is simple and changeless and in the same form and does not deviate from its sameness of its own accord, nor is it compelled by anything else.
At some point in the discussion, as referenced in a later fragment, "I said that Being is asomatic, and that it is the Noetic." So in addition to the names already given, Nous can be added.
The third book in some way involves the allegorization of stories in support of the philosophy of Numenius. Langseth points out this known example of the allegorizing of Numenius (on the war of the Atheneans and the Atlanteans in the Timaeus):
Others believe that the contrast is between better souls that are also fostered by Athena and others attached to generation, which also belong to the god who oversees generation. Numenius is the major expositor of this interpretation.
Here we find an example of a contrast between "souls," the better souls presumably belonging to the better god (allegorized as Athena), while the lesser souls that are "attached to generation" (this world of change) and thus belong to a lesser god, the demiurge, the "god who oversees generation."
In the one story that Eusebius quotes from the third book, a story taken by Numenius from that which is told by the Jews (one of his reputable people), Langseth proposes this similar allegorical interpretation (p. 84):
Musaeus’ power to pray represents the power of providence (i.e. Being) in the world. The Egyptians’ magic is a force of the active aspect of Numenius’ concept of Matter. In fr. 9, these forces are expressed in superlative terms, thus allowing them to be used as allegorical types. The thrust of this passage is allegorical. It advances the argument of Books 1-2 by demonstrating that God and Matter can and do interact, and that they are truly opposed to one another.
Here is the text quoted by Eusebius from Numenius ("Fragment 9"):
Next there is Iannes and Iambres, Egyptian priestly scribes, men judged second to none in wizardry (mageu'sai) when the Jews were being driven out of Egypt. At any rate they were the ones who were deemed worthy by the mob of the Egyptians to stand against Musaeus, who was the leader of the Jews—a man who had become most able to pray to god—and it was evident that they were able to undo the most extreme of the plagues that Musaeus visited upon Egypt.
The first couple words indicate that this is one story told in a series of stories. Langseth maintains that the sympathetic figure in this story is "Musaeus" because he is described as "a man who had become most able to pray to god." This would identify him as the better soul in this allegory.
Langseth suggests that outright "hostility" is only one metaphor being used for the interactions between God and Matter (p. 86):
The hostility in this fragment is only one way of accounting for the relationship between God and matter; Numenius has many ways of describing this relationship. It is a war, but it is also a process of stabilization, as in fr. 4a. In fragment 11, it will be described as a seduction. These separate descriptions are mutually exclusive if taken literally, and so we must view them as metaphorical attempts to understand from different angles a transcendent process outside of human experience. The world arises from an interaction of good Providence and evil Matter, “as the divines of old” or “as the ancient theologians” (veteres theologi) taught; so says Chalcidius in his report of Numenius’ teaching.
Because Eusebius and Origen doesn't quote it, only speculation can fill the gaps for what might have been drawn upon from the traditions of the Egyptians, the Magi, and the Brahmins, which the first fragment speaks about. Langseth suggests for example "Osiris’ battle with Typhon (=Seth), Ahura Mazda and his endless war with Ahriman" as possibilities, towards supporting what Numenius himself says, that he drew on multiple traditions.
After arguing that the Good is Being, which is God (Plato's "the First"), the next subject is the nature of the divine. The rest of the work can be interpreted as unraveling the riddle of "the Second" and "the Third" in terms of different "quality," here expressed as "three gods." A motivating concern here is the question of how God can come to interact with Matter, even though God is unchanging.
Fragment 11 states:
It is necessary for one who intends to have understanding about the
First God and the Second God to distinguish each point in order and with a sort of “good stewardship.” Then, when it seems to be in good order, it will also necessary to attempt to speak methodically and not otherwise; or else, as the saying goes, the treasure turns to ash for one who applies oneself too soon before the first elements are accomplished. Let us not suffer the same! Let us invoke God to be his own interpreter and to demonstrate a treasure trove of insights with our reason; that is how we should begin. We must pray, and we must make our distinctions.
The first god is in his own realm and is simple, because he associates with himself completely and is not ever divided. However, the second god and the third god are one. When he meets with matter—it being dyad—he unifies it, and he is divided by it since it has a lustful character and is in flux. And so by not being in contact with the noetic realm (for he would be in contact with himself) because he sees matter and cares for it, he becomes neglectful of himself. He touches the sensible realm and handles it, and moreover he lifts it up to his own character since he yearns for Matter.
First God and the Second God to distinguish each point in order and with a sort of “good stewardship.” Then, when it seems to be in good order, it will also necessary to attempt to speak methodically and not otherwise; or else, as the saying goes, the treasure turns to ash for one who applies oneself too soon before the first elements are accomplished. Let us not suffer the same! Let us invoke God to be his own interpreter and to demonstrate a treasure trove of insights with our reason; that is how we should begin. We must pray, and we must make our distinctions.
The first god is in his own realm and is simple, because he associates with himself completely and is not ever divided. However, the second god and the third god are one. When he meets with matter—it being dyad—he unifies it, and he is divided by it since it has a lustful character and is in flux. And so by not being in contact with the noetic realm (for he would be in contact with himself) because he sees matter and cares for it, he becomes neglectful of himself. He touches the sensible realm and handles it, and moreover he lifts it up to his own character since he yearns for Matter.
Langseth provides a well-informed statement here, identifying the "third god" with the demiurge (pp. 107-108):
The First God is a principle of unity, the polar opposite of Matter or the “dyad.” God is therefore static and undivided. He is, in fact, Being as described in Books 1-2. It was established in Book 2 that Being, which is here called the First God, is also the Noetic.
2) The Second God exercises his own noetic own activity in between the First and the Third. Since the Second God is named a “god,” but also is closer to divisive matter, we should understand him to be a principle that is noetic but at the same time divided; he should properly be made of of several noetic objects. He is the divine mind and contains the multiple Ideas or Forms.
3) The active principle, or the “Third God,” actually organizes and creates with Matter with the Noetic models that the Second God provides. The Third God is produced when the Second God “forgets himself” and “cares for Matter.” The unifying activity that the Third God performs upon Matter makes him a creator, and so he is roughly equivalent to the Demiurge of the Timaeus (on which see more below). The Platonic Demiurge creates by looking at the Forms, which, in Numenius’ system, are the thoughts that exist in the mind of the Second God. By organizing and creating with matter, the Third God creates ontological levels between himself and Matter.
2) The Second God exercises his own noetic own activity in between the First and the Third. Since the Second God is named a “god,” but also is closer to divisive matter, we should understand him to be a principle that is noetic but at the same time divided; he should properly be made of of several noetic objects. He is the divine mind and contains the multiple Ideas or Forms.
3) The active principle, or the “Third God,” actually organizes and creates with Matter with the Noetic models that the Second God provides. The Third God is produced when the Second God “forgets himself” and “cares for Matter.” The unifying activity that the Third God performs upon Matter makes him a creator, and so he is roughly equivalent to the Demiurge of the Timaeus (on which see more below). The Platonic Demiurge creates by looking at the Forms, which, in Numenius’ system, are the thoughts that exist in the mind of the Second God. By organizing and creating with matter, the Third God creates ontological levels between himself and Matter.
The title indicates one way in which the three gods here could be named: (1) Agathos, (2) Nous, and (3) Demiurge. The First God is Being, which is the Good. All three are minds, and the Second God is defined by noetic activity, perceiving multiple Forms as the divine Mind. The Third God performs the action of ordering matter as creator, making him the Demiurge.
The fragments of Numenius aren't quite as neatly delineated as the summary just provided (pp. 108-109):
Numenius has created an enormous difficulty by treating the Second and Third Gods sometimes as separate, at other times as different functions of one god who is also called the “Second God.” In other fragments, the Second God is not split into a Second and a Third God, but is treated as one god who does two things: he both thinks and he creates. Adding to the difficulty is the fact that, since the composite Second God has a creative aspect that he receives from the Third God, Numenius will refer to this Second God as the Demiurge (e.g. in fr. 12 and in fr. 16), even though the demiurgic function is more exactly filled by the Third God, the creator. This must be in part what the Platonist Amelius meant when he said that Numenius does not always speak of the same things in the same way.
Resolving these apparent difficulties can be somewhat glossed over in the history of thought, to the extent that this kinds of rough edges are exactly the sort of thing that subsequent thinkers would smooth out in their own way, rather than inheriting from Numenius word-for-word. Langseth is forced to refer to "the Second of Three Gods" and "the Second of Two Gods" separately in order to systematize his thought fully.
Another name for the First God is introduced in Fragment 12 (with "the Demiurge" here referring to the second god of two), offering some nuance about the First God existing in himself and also being "the father":
And in fact it is not right for the First God to create, and it is also necessary to think of the First God as the father of the Demiurge. So, then, if we were asking about the Demiurge, and we were to say that he must be pre-existent and so depict him as being exalted, this contribution to the argument would be sufficient. But if the discussion is not about the Demiurge, but rather we are asking about the First God, then I repudiate what was said and insist that it go unsaid, and will go hunting from a different direction and attempt to catch the argument.
Fragment 12 continues to provide a better understanding of the Second God of two (here called "Demiurge"):
However, before we capture the argument, let us agree with one another that it not be subject to debate that the First God is free of all labor and is Emperor, while the Demiurge is the governor [hegemonein] and travels though heaven. Through him we have our mission when mind (nous) is sent down progressively to all who are arrayed to partake in it. So, when God regards us and turns his attention to each of us, then it happens that the corporeal world comes alive and lives when it is related to the volleys of God. On the other hand, when God turns his attention back to contemplation of himself, the corporeal world withers, but the mind lives, since it enjoys a happy life.
Langseth says here that "he feels that it is important to understand that the Second God acts, while the First is at rest" (p. 119). Further, Langseth writes (p. 120):
There remains a part of the Demiurge that engages in noetic rather than creative activity; this is the Second of the Three Gods from fr. 11. The Third God can impart this noetic activity onto Matter below him, but there is an indication in this fragment that it can be reabsorbed as well back into the Second God. Since the Second God is engaged in contemplative noesis, this reabsorption happens when we contemplate the noetic realm.
Fragment 13 presents another analogy to understand the Second God:
The relationship of a farmer to his planter is most analogous to that of the First God and the Demiurge. Being, at any rate, sows the seed of every soul into all things that participate in him; while the Lawgiver plants, distributes, and transplants into each of us what is sown from him.
Here the First God ("Being") is the landholder, while the Second God (the "Lawgiver") plants the seed.
Fragment 14 provides another analogy:
Whatever is given accrues to the receiver and departs from the giver (e.g. service, property, minted and plate coinage). These are mortal and human things. Divine things, on the other hand, are those that are transferred from one place and completely pass to another, but do not depart from the one place, though they are at the other. They benefit the receiver and do not harm the giver, and they aid the recollection of things that he [the receiver] once knew. In this way, the beautiful possession is beautiful knowledge that the receiver enjoys, but the giver does not lose it. Similarly, one might see a lamp kindled and lit from another lamp, which does not harm the first, but rather the wick in the one has been lit by the other’s fire. Such a thing is knowledge (epistemes), which when given and taken remains with the giver, while the same knowledge follows upon the receiver.
The cause of this, stranger, is nothing human; rather, the reason is that a state of being and essence that has knowledge is the same for God who gives it and you and me who receive it. That is why Plato [Philebus 16c] too says that Wisdom comes to humankind from Prometheus with something like the brightest fire.
The cause of this, stranger, is nothing human; rather, the reason is that a state of being and essence that has knowledge is the same for God who gives it and you and me who receive it. That is why Plato [Philebus 16c] too says that Wisdom comes to humankind from Prometheus with something like the brightest fire.
Fragment 15:
It is clear that the First God will be static, and the Second in turn is in motion. Thus, the first is concerned with the noetic world, and the second with the noetic and sensible. Do not be surprised if I say this, since you will hear a still much more surprising thing. For, corresponding to the motion present in the Second God, the stasis present in the First I claim is its own particular sort of motion, from which the order of the world and its eternal stability and salvation (soteria) spreads into everything.
On this word, Langseth writes: "Numenius’ use is a metaphysical function that is a defining attribute of the asomatic principle in Book 1 called a katechon, a “binding agent,” something that holds the disorderliness of matter together. Numenius is still occupied with giving appropriate names to the results of divine activity as we experience it in the world. In the analogies of fr. 12-14, the terms that he used to describe the results had psychological and epistemological significance: Mind, Soul, Knowledge, and Wisdom. Here, the quality that God imparts to the world is more overtly metaphysical, and is called Preservation. It is the quality that God pours over the world in order to impart God’s goodness to it." (p. 136)
In Fragment 16, the First God is the Good itself, and by imitation the Second God (of two) is a "good Demiurge" (demiourgos agathos), who is also nonetheless "altogether contemplative" (as the Second God of three):
For the Second god is double, and by himself makes both the idea of Himself and the world; and though he is a Demiurge, he is still altogether contemplative. Since we have concluded four names for the four things, they have to be the following: the First God is the Good Itself, His imitator is the good Demiurge, and one type of Existence belongs to the first one, and another type belongs to the second one. Existence’s imitation is the beautiful world, beautified by participation in the Beautiful.
Langseth says the closest analogy in philosophy before Numenius that he can find is Philo (pp. 144-145):
The closest parallel to the three gods as understood in fragment 16 is Philo of Alexandria (first c. BC). Philo also proposed a Second God to whom he often gave a Stoic name: the logos. Philo splits this logos into two by adapting Stoic epistemology to his Platonic metaphysical systems (Migratio Abraham 157, Vita Mosis 2.127-28). In their theory of the human intellect, Stoics distinguished between endiathetos logos, or “conceptual reasoning” that arises in our own minds and prophorikos logos, or “expressive reasoning” that we use to communicate our thoughts. Philo says that his divine logos is also divided into endiathetos and prophorikos, one who conceives of the world and one who creates it. This system bears a striking resemblance to Numenius’ “two gods who are one” in substance, though not in terminology.
Langseth interprets the four things described by Numenius in this way (p. 147):
That is what gives us four “things,” the division of the Demiurge into two ousiai, or existences. These Four Things are: 1) The Good Itself, 2) the ousia of the First Demiurge (i.e. the Second God), 3) the ousia of the Second Demiurge (i.e. the Third God), and 4) the Beautiful World, i.e. the result of God’s creative activity upon chaotic matter, the beautified material world of our experience. Numenius’ “four things” are the levels of the Ontological Pyramid.
Langseth prepares the reader for the content of the sixth and last book in this way (p. 150):
In between fragments 16 and 17 Numenius has reestablished the Platonic framework of his discussion. Plato expressed himself in a way, Numenius says, that he believed would be familiar and palatable to his audience while suggesting the existence of an even higher reality.
In Fragment 17, Plato is depicted as approaching the subject with a discussion of the mind of the Demiurge, who is familiar among most men. At the same time, through this gradual introduction, Plato points to another before it, the unknown, more divine God.
Since Plato knew that among humankind the Demiurge alone is known, and the first mind who is called Being Itself is altogether unknown among them, he therefore spoke as though one might say the following: “Gentlemen, the one whom you think is mind is not the first, but there is another before it, a pre-existent and more divine mind.”
In terms of the interpretation of the Timaeus, Proclus says that "Numenius classes the first mind as the 'that which is the Zôion,'" the living being, which indicates another term available in Middle Platonism here.
Fragment 18 provides yet another analogy to explain the theology of On the Good:
I suppose a helmsman sailing in the middle of the sea sits above the rudder guiding his ship with the tiller, and strains his eyes and his mind directly to the sky; and his course goes up through the sky as he sails down along the sea. So also the Demiurge does to matter: so that it might neither drift away nor wander off, he binds it with a harmony and sits above it, as though above a ship on the sea, and he steers the harmony, guiding his tiller with the Forms, and he watches and fixes his eyes to the God above him instead of to the stars; he takes his critical faculty from the contemplation, and his impulsive faculty from desire.
Fragment 19 clarifies something that I've been taking as a given in the presentation so far, which is that the Good is One (the First God alone):
Everything that participates in him participates in nothing other than in intellection alone. In this way, then, and in not other, everything would enjoy communion with the Good. Now, with regard to intellection, it is in the First God alone. And so only a foolish soul would doubt that everything else is made better by him as though taking on a new hue, if this is with him alone [monon monôi]. For if the Second God is good not through himself but through the First, how is it possible that [the First God] is not good, when by participation in him [the Second God] is good, especially if the Second God participates in him as the Good? Thus I assure you Plato taught to the clear-sighted through syllogism that the Good is One.
Fragment 20 once again writes about how Plato introduced these things at first conventionally, with reference to the Demiurge:
Plato assumed that these things are so when he defined them in various places. In the Timaeus he characteristically wrote about the Demiurge in the conventional way when he said “he was good”; but in the Republic he said that the Good is the “Form of Good,” as though the Good were the Form of the Demiurge, who we say is good by participation in the First and Only. For, just as human beings are said to be struck from the Form of “Human Being,” and cattle from that of “Cow,” and horses from the Form of “Horse,” so also might we reasonably say of the Demiurge, if he is good by participation in the first Good, then the First Mind would be the Form of Good, since he is Goodness Itself.
Langseth concludes (p. 171):
It is in this way that Numenius the philosopher has, by contemplation of divine things, caught a glimpse of the Good. He is not as “alone” as he claims to be, however, since we have joined him.
Indeed, many who who knew the philosophy of Numenius would, in one way or another, join him also.