I'm reading The Mystagogy, the well-known work of St. Photios of Constantinople (9th century) on the error of the filioque. It is quite excellent. The first half of the book, for about 7o pages, is background and introduction from the editor, which provides very helpful information. Although aware of the Neo-Platonism in St. Augustine's thought, even Trinitarian thought, I never connected that with St. Augustine's proposition of the filioque.
One thing that especially surprised me were some words that St. Photios writes quite early in his Mystagogy and which I myself had come to the logical conclusion several days ago: namely, that one could just as easily (indeed it would be necessary) to argue that the Son is begotten of the Father and the Holy Spirit. I don't say this in zest, but I am glad because it at least shows I'm thinking along the same lines as St. Photios and the other Church Fathers, at least in this one regard.
There have been some ecumenical dialogues with the Latin Catholics on the filioque. Some have reduced it to a difference in words with the Greek East's understanding. Personally, I find the filioque quite difficult to uphold, especially if one feels it necessary to regard the Council of Florence authoritative.
Showing posts with label Church Fathers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church Fathers. Show all posts
Monday, June 2, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Anaphora Prayer: "We offer You, Yours of Your own, in behalf of all and for all"
This prayer comes from the Anaphora of the Divine Liturgy. Most people, when they look at this prayer, notice the offering of "Yours of Your own" to God, and recognize that the prayer is talking about the sacrificial offering of Christ at the altar.
What struck me today, as I listened during Divine Liturgy, was the latter portion: "in behalf of all and for all." Who are the "all"? Does all mean all members of the Church? All persons living on earth? All persons on earth and those deceased? Or, does all refer to something more encompassing than man alone, such as all creation?
Certainly the redemption of man is the main concern of Christ in his sacrificial offering. This is clear in Christ's priestly prayer, just before he offers himself up (John 17). However, it should be noted that redemption affects not man alone but all creation. The New Covenant brings forth a New Creation in which all things are made new. The Bread and Wine becomes the Body and Blood of Christ, and God's divine energies permeate and transform all things unto him. I believe St. Irenaeus said something similar with his theme of "recapitulation" of all creation into Christ. St. Paul, even earlier, writes: And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ. (Ephesians 1:9-10)
What struck me today, as I listened during Divine Liturgy, was the latter portion: "in behalf of all and for all." Who are the "all"? Does all mean all members of the Church? All persons living on earth? All persons on earth and those deceased? Or, does all refer to something more encompassing than man alone, such as all creation?
Certainly the redemption of man is the main concern of Christ in his sacrificial offering. This is clear in Christ's priestly prayer, just before he offers himself up (John 17). However, it should be noted that redemption affects not man alone but all creation. The New Covenant brings forth a New Creation in which all things are made new. The Bread and Wine becomes the Body and Blood of Christ, and God's divine energies permeate and transform all things unto him. I believe St. Irenaeus said something similar with his theme of "recapitulation" of all creation into Christ. St. Paul, even earlier, writes: And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ. (Ephesians 1:9-10)
Monday, May 5, 2008
Jesus Made God at Nicaea?
This at least appears the claim of Richard E. Rubenstein, professor at George Mason University and author of several books dealing with the Church and philosophy. I read his book Aristotle's Children this past December, and I found it to be an informative read; I have yet to read his book When Jesus Became God. I do want to read it, however, especially in light of what I have found in my own studies. The fact is: besides Scripture, there are several Church Fathers (even ones that become associated with heterodox movements) that identified Jesus as God. Not simply "like" God but God.
Judging from the reviews of Rubenstein's book on Jesus (which may or may not be entirely accurate) Rubenstein identifies the Arian Christians as those who did not believe Jesus to be God (in opposition to the supporters of Athanasius, who believed Jesus is God). This is a gross over-simplification and even misleading. The Arian Christians did not deny Christ's divinity. They too would say that Jesus is God. The debate between the Arians and those who later would be called Nicene Christians was not over the question of whether or not Jesus was divine, but how to articulate this divinity. Arius, desiring to maintain the Father's place, held that the Son was begotten by the Father but in such a way that he was "created" before all ages. The Son was still first of all creation and indeed was created before time and ranked above all creation. The Son, in short, is still God, just not, as the Nicenes would define, homoousios, or partaking in the same divine substance as the Father. The debate, as I understand it, mostly concerned the relationship of the Son with the Father. It was the Nicenes (and not the Arians) who pinned on the Arians the belief that Jesus is not God, for from the Nicene standpoint, the Arians, by their faulty theology, actually did not believe Jesus is God. In the eyes of the Nicenes, as mouth-pieced by Alexander of Alexandria and later by his successor, Athanasius, the Arians simply reduced Jesus to the level of a creature; perhaps the greatest creature, but a creature nonetheless.
In any case, I'm interested if Rubenstein makes any note of the heresy of Artemon. Who? Yes, Artemon. Eusebius of Caesarea, our only major chronicler of the early Church and a reluctant acceptant of the Council of Nicaea (he tended towards Arius) describes this heresy in some detail. He defines the errors of this heresy: asserting that the Saviour is merely human, merely a man. Interestingly, Eusebius' discussion touches on the very suggestion that I believe Rubenstein probably makes in his book: that the early Christians saw Jesus as man (perhaps a super-man) but not as God. This, according to Eusebius, was the heresy of this group (who claimed the same), but Eusebius mentions (as modern-day apologists do) that Christian writers going back to the time of the Apostles are to be found speaking of Christ as God--included in Eusebius' referenced list are Justin, Militiades, Tatian, Irenaeus, and Clement, among others, all of which write of Jesus as both God and man. For more information, see chapter 28 of Book 5 of Eusebius' History of the Church.
I'm not a Patristics scholar, but it should seem to me that, rather than argue belief in Jesus is God as a gradual development that did not exist in the early Church, it would be more reasonable to take a "multi-strand" approach--as several scholars already have taken regarding the Gnostic Christian question; the notion that a Low Christology of Adoptionism worked alongside a higher Christology that marked the subliminal divine nature of the Son. But whatever the case, the evidence as I've seen it suggests that believe that Jesus is God has early roots, can be traced to the Apostolic Fathers, and should in no way be seen as an innovation in the early 4th century. Now: Jesus is "one in substance" with the Father. This I can better understand as an "innovation," although I do not agree that the truth behind the definition is an innovation. I look forward to reading Rubenstein's book, once I have the time (after I finish my job this year).
Judging from the reviews of Rubenstein's book on Jesus (which may or may not be entirely accurate) Rubenstein identifies the Arian Christians as those who did not believe Jesus to be God (in opposition to the supporters of Athanasius, who believed Jesus is God). This is a gross over-simplification and even misleading. The Arian Christians did not deny Christ's divinity. They too would say that Jesus is God. The debate between the Arians and those who later would be called Nicene Christians was not over the question of whether or not Jesus was divine, but how to articulate this divinity. Arius, desiring to maintain the Father's place, held that the Son was begotten by the Father but in such a way that he was "created" before all ages. The Son was still first of all creation and indeed was created before time and ranked above all creation. The Son, in short, is still God, just not, as the Nicenes would define, homoousios, or partaking in the same divine substance as the Father. The debate, as I understand it, mostly concerned the relationship of the Son with the Father. It was the Nicenes (and not the Arians) who pinned on the Arians the belief that Jesus is not God, for from the Nicene standpoint, the Arians, by their faulty theology, actually did not believe Jesus is God. In the eyes of the Nicenes, as mouth-pieced by Alexander of Alexandria and later by his successor, Athanasius, the Arians simply reduced Jesus to the level of a creature; perhaps the greatest creature, but a creature nonetheless.
In any case, I'm interested if Rubenstein makes any note of the heresy of Artemon. Who? Yes, Artemon. Eusebius of Caesarea, our only major chronicler of the early Church and a reluctant acceptant of the Council of Nicaea (he tended towards Arius) describes this heresy in some detail. He defines the errors of this heresy: asserting that the Saviour is merely human, merely a man. Interestingly, Eusebius' discussion touches on the very suggestion that I believe Rubenstein probably makes in his book: that the early Christians saw Jesus as man (perhaps a super-man) but not as God. This, according to Eusebius, was the heresy of this group (who claimed the same), but Eusebius mentions (as modern-day apologists do) that Christian writers going back to the time of the Apostles are to be found speaking of Christ as God--included in Eusebius' referenced list are Justin, Militiades, Tatian, Irenaeus, and Clement, among others, all of which write of Jesus as both God and man. For more information, see chapter 28 of Book 5 of Eusebius' History of the Church.
I'm not a Patristics scholar, but it should seem to me that, rather than argue belief in Jesus is God as a gradual development that did not exist in the early Church, it would be more reasonable to take a "multi-strand" approach--as several scholars already have taken regarding the Gnostic Christian question; the notion that a Low Christology of Adoptionism worked alongside a higher Christology that marked the subliminal divine nature of the Son. But whatever the case, the evidence as I've seen it suggests that believe that Jesus is God has early roots, can be traced to the Apostolic Fathers, and should in no way be seen as an innovation in the early 4th century. Now: Jesus is "one in substance" with the Father. This I can better understand as an "innovation," although I do not agree that the truth behind the definition is an innovation. I look forward to reading Rubenstein's book, once I have the time (after I finish my job this year).
Friday, April 18, 2008
Origen: Well Regarded in his Time
I'm reading selected books of Eusebius' The History of the Church. I previously have read several of his first books on the Apostles and the earliest Church, but for some reason I never took much time to read about Origen (at least from the pen of Eusebius). From my studies, I've known he in his own time was regarded as a Biblical scholar par excellence. What I did not know, and what Eusebius makes clear, is that many bishops, even patriarchal ones, came to Origen for spiritual guidance.
Origen often receives much flak for his concept of the pre-existence of souls; but what I find surprising is his Christological response that points to Jesus as divine in his own proper sense (Origen's subordinating tendencies besides present consideration). Beryllus, the bishop of Bostra in Arabia, had erroneous views; he believed that the Son did not have his own divinity but instead only was indwelt by the divinity of the Father. Many bishops challenged Beryllus on this point, and Origen was brought into the dispute. Interestingly, Origen set Beryllus back on the orthodox path, supposedly by highlighting the proper divinity of the Son.
Many "scholars" today write about the "birth of God"--as if Christians viewed Jesus as God only beginning at Nicaea. According to the scholarly myth, prior to the heavy-handed Council of Nicaea in 325, Christians generally did not see Jesus as God; Nicaea made the norm that which never was. The evidence of history points to the contrary. Christians believed in the divinity of Christ from the Apostolic Age--Jesus is God. For the early Christians, it was not an argument over whether or not Jesus is God, but rather a debate on how Jesus is God, and how Jesus as the Son of God relates with the Father, who by Christians (even heterodox ones) is undisputed as fully divine, fully God.
The early adoptionists went to one extreme, claiming that the Son is only an adopted human son of God--that the divinity of the Father indwells in him, but that the Son himself has no divinity proper to himself. This, of course, is unorthodox. Yet, there was always another side that elevated the especial nature of the Son as God, and which demonstrated, if less perfectly at first, the Son as ontologically distinct from the Father. Nicaea recognized the latter as what was passed down from the Apostles and contained in their inspired writings.
Origen often receives much flak for his concept of the pre-existence of souls; but what I find surprising is his Christological response that points to Jesus as divine in his own proper sense (Origen's subordinating tendencies besides present consideration). Beryllus, the bishop of Bostra in Arabia, had erroneous views; he believed that the Son did not have his own divinity but instead only was indwelt by the divinity of the Father. Many bishops challenged Beryllus on this point, and Origen was brought into the dispute. Interestingly, Origen set Beryllus back on the orthodox path, supposedly by highlighting the proper divinity of the Son.
Many "scholars" today write about the "birth of God"--as if Christians viewed Jesus as God only beginning at Nicaea. According to the scholarly myth, prior to the heavy-handed Council of Nicaea in 325, Christians generally did not see Jesus as God; Nicaea made the norm that which never was. The evidence of history points to the contrary. Christians believed in the divinity of Christ from the Apostolic Age--Jesus is God. For the early Christians, it was not an argument over whether or not Jesus is God, but rather a debate on how Jesus is God, and how Jesus as the Son of God relates with the Father, who by Christians (even heterodox ones) is undisputed as fully divine, fully God.
The early adoptionists went to one extreme, claiming that the Son is only an adopted human son of God--that the divinity of the Father indwells in him, but that the Son himself has no divinity proper to himself. This, of course, is unorthodox. Yet, there was always another side that elevated the especial nature of the Son as God, and which demonstrated, if less perfectly at first, the Son as ontologically distinct from the Father. Nicaea recognized the latter as what was passed down from the Apostles and contained in their inspired writings.
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