The real problem of Christology is reflected in this question: How is the divinity of Christ related to the humanity of Christ? How can He who is true God also be man at the same time? How could He live under human conditions and appear in human form?
Such questions came to the fore in the earliest period of church history, particularly in the struggle with the Docetists and in the rejection of the Ebionites. The heretical tendencies implicit in these schools of thought reappeared in new forms during the so-called Christological controversies, which had a prominent place in the development of dogma beginning with the middle of the fourth century.
Apollinaris
The fact that the Christological question reappeared at this time must be seen against the background of the rejection of Arianism and the confirmation of the homoousios formula. How could the fact that the Logos is of one substance with the Father be combined with the fact that the Logos appeared in human form? That was the major question involved in the theological discussions of the time.
The man who first posed the problem in this form, and motivated the ongoing theological reworking of the answer, was Apollinaris of Laodicea, who appeared on the scene sometime after the middle of the fourth century. And while he was actually a member of the “Nicene party,” he nevertheless dealt with the Christological problem in a way that was repudiated by the church.
Apollinaris was not satisfied to accept the idea that the Logos (i. e., Christ) was, with respect to His divine nature, of the same substance as the Father. The main problem, as he saw it, was this: How can man conceive of Christ’s human existence? According to Apollinaris, Christ’s human nature had to possess a divine quality. If this were not the ease, Christ’s life and death could not have wrought man’s salvation. It would appear, therefore, that Apollinaris taught as follows: God in Christ was transmuted into flesh, and this flesh was then transmuted into something by nature divine. According to this point of view, Christ did not receive His human nature, His flesh, from the Virgin Mary; He rather brought with Him, from heaven, a heavenly kind of flesh. The womb of Mary simply served as a passageway. (Cf. Schoeps, Vom himmlischen Fleisch Christi, 1951, p. 9 ff., and Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines, p. 294)
As Apollinaris understood Christ, therefore, He has only one nature and one hypostasis. This nature is the nature of the Logos, which in Christ was transmuted into flesh. The latter, in turn, assumed a divine quality at the same time. Apollinaris strongly opposed the idea that the divine and human elements in Christ were combined, that the Logos simply arrayed Himself in human nature and was connected with it in a spiritual manner.
One of Apollinaris’ characteristic tendencies is to be seen in the way he developed his idea about how the Logos became man. To accomplish this, he proceeded from the distinction between flesh and spirit, or between body, soul, and spirit. Man is constituted of these components, and it is the spirit (or the reasonable soul) which makes man what he is—which provides his true essence. Christ’s reason or spirit did not consist of human reason; it consisted of God’s Logos. God and man are therefore united in Christ as body and soul are in man, inasmuch as the human soul was replaced by God’s Logos.
This unity of Logos and flesh has had the result that the flesh is thought of as a divine or heavenly flesh. For it is the spirit or reason which molds the physical so that, together, they form one nature. In Christ, however, as Apollinaris saw it, this one nature is of a divine variety.
It is obvious that Apollinaris emphasized the divinity of Christ to such a degree that he lost sight of His true humanity. Christ, according to Apollinaris, does not have a human soul. He has but one nature, the incarnate nature of the divine Logos. Because of this point of view, Apollinaris was not far removed from the old modalism. There was a strain of Docetism in his theology. Opposition to Apollinaris came chiefly from the Cappadocians and from the school in Antioch. In contending with him, the opposition emphasized that Christ’s true humanity must mean that He not only had a human body but also a human soul, for it is body and soul together which provide the essence of humanity. Apart from human reason, man is no longer man. Apollinaris’ detractors were also repulsed by his assertion that God Himself would be fleshly, or that He submitted Himself to suffering.
Antioch and Alexandria
The so-called school of Antioch was very sharply opposed to Apollinaris. Its foremost representatives were Diodorus of Tarsus (d. 394), Theodore of Mopsuestia (d. 428), and Theodoretus. The famous preacher John Chrysostom (d. 407) can also be included in this list, as well as Nestorius, whose teachings were later rejected as being heretical. When Nestorius’ theology was repudiated, the influence of this school diminished considerably. But it was nevertheless very significant for the development of doctrine, and it distinguished itself particularly for its consistent scientific approach.
The Antiochene exegetes refused to employ the allegorical method; instead, they worked out a historical-grammatical mode of interpretation. Scripture, they said, must be interpreted in a literal sense, in a manner consistent with its original meaning.
The Christology which developed in Antioch was also related to this basic historical approach. The primary emphasis was placed on the humanity of Christ. Christ, they said, had both a human soul and a human body; furthermore, He underwent a process of development. It was thus that He became more closely united to God, until the process was completed at the time of the Resurrection.
The Antiochenes also held fast to the Nicene decision regarding the homoousios. According to His divine nature, Christ was actually of the same substance as the Father. The Logos, however, was not transmuted into a man; instead, He retained His divine nature, took upon Himself a human form, and united Himself to human nature. This union was conceived of thus by the Antiochenes: the Logos employed human nature as an organ; He worked through it. At the same time, however, the two natures remained distinct; each was an independent entity, and they were united only by their activity and by their unity of purpose. It was, then, a question concerning spiritual and moral unity; it was not a physical problem, as it was for Apollinaris.
As a result of such opinions, the Antiochene theologians also opposed Apollinaris on Christological grounds. Each of the two natures in Christ must be preserved intact. The divine and human natures were not changed in such a way that the one was merged into the other. Christ possessed the true divine nature, but at the same time He was also a real man with a human body and soul. To Apollinaris, Christ had but one nature: the divine. The Antiochenes asserted that we must distinguish between the Logos and the human nature which He assumed. The Logos combined Himself with man and dwelt in him as in a temple. This does not mean that the one nature was merged into the other. The natures were not transformed in such a way that they became identical. When we read in John 1:14 that “the Word became flesh,” the “became” (εγεvετο) must be interpreted in a figurative sense, said Theodore. The Logos took flesh upon Himself, but He did not become flesh. “For when it says that ‘He took’ the form of a servant (Phil. 2:7), that means that it actually happened thus; it was not a pretense. But when we read that ‘He became,’ that must not be taken literally, for He was not transmuted into flesh.” (De incarnatione, 9)
The Antiochenes therefore emphasized the difference between the two natures and insisted that each retained its own unique qualities. There was a complete divine nature, that of God’s Logos, and a complete human nature. At the same time, however, the original Antiochenes also asserted the unity of the person. And it was this aspect of the Christological problem which was decisive for the school of Antioch. It was on this point, for example, that Nestorius was accused of heresy. His predecessors had emphasized the fact that Christ is one person, with one will, and a single independent existence. “We do not say that there are two sons; we properly believe in but one Son. For the distinction between the two natures must be upheld unconditionally, and the unity of the person perpetually maintained.” (Theodore, De incarnatione, 12)
In the struggle which involved the Antiochenes and Apollinaris was reflected the persistent opposition of the two leading theological schools of that period, the one in Antioch and the other in Alexandria. This opposition was based on two different points of view regarding the entire field of theology. The Antiochene school emphasized the historical aspect, rejected the use of allegory, and put particular stress on Jesus’ earthly, human existence, His development and historicity. The Alexandrian school, on the other hand, was deeply influenced by Greek philosophy, with its emphasis on the metaphysical, on the spiritual, divine realities, as well as its sharp antithesis between the divine and the human. The divine element in Christ was emphasized in such a way that the human element was not always properly recognized.
Parallels to both of these points of view can be seen in two diverse tendencies in the New Testament. The Incarnation is described in John in terms of Christ “becoming man” (“the Word became flesh,” 1:14), and in Philippians we read that Christ “took the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” (2:7)
In the Antiochene school the attempt was made to do justice to both the divine element and the historical, human element in Christ. The unity between the two was described as being of a moral nature, a unity of will. The believer, of course, worships the one Christ—a subjective form of unity. In reality there are two essences or natures.
The Alexandrian point of view was based on the fundamental distinction between the divine and the human, which coincides, of course, with the attitude of idealism. The Incarnation was set forth as a transmutation of the Deity into human nature. But in view of the fact that the divine essence is unchangeable, this meant that human nature was elevated to the level of divinity, transmuted into divine nature. Conceived of thus, unity was thought to involve not only activity and will, but substance itself. It was, in other words, a substantial, physical unity, in which the qualities of human nature disappeared.
Nestorius and Cyril
The opposition between the Alexandrians and the Antiochenes provided the background for the bitter struggle which took place between Nestorius and Cyril at the beginning of the fifth century. It must be said, however, that church politics and personal ambition also entered the picture. Alexandria was in competition with Antioch, and particularly with Constantinople, for ecclesiastical domination in the East, and theological questions became involved in this fight for power.The Synod of Ephesus (431) decided in favor of the Alexandrian theology, and Nestorius, who upheld the opposing position, was declared heretical and driven into exile. When this was done, the entire Nestorian party separated itself from the rest of the church. The Nestorians then organized their own church body in Persia, and spread throughout Asia, but they were doomed to an isolated existence. Small Nestorian congregations have remained, however, right down to the present time (cf. The Marthoma Church in India).
Nestorius, who became patriarch of Constantinople in 428, was in general a representative of the Antiochene school of theology. The verdict of history on Nestorius and his works has changed radically. Because of the anathema hurled at him by his contemporaries, it has been generally concluded that he carried the Antiochene point of view a bit too far and that he came up with a false Christology as a result. It has been thought that he set forth a doctrine of “two Christs,” one divine and one human, and thereby invalidated the Christian faith. Thus it was that the “heretic” label has been attached to Nestorius, and he has been held up as the prototype of a point of view which presents a false antithesis between the divine and the human.
During the time of the Reformation, for example, the Roman Catholic Church was accused of having a Nestorian Christology. In our own time, one could point to the attitude which often forms the basis for the scientific approach to theology; it is marked by a bifurcated view of theology, one using history as a point of departure, the other using religious experience. A similar distinction is made between the historical Jesus and Christ, the Son of God. These attempts to solve the question of the relationship between theology and science remind us in a way of Nestorius and the basic elements in his Christology.
Modern research has presented us with an evaluation of Nestorius which is completely at variance with the older tradition. Improved access to primary sources has made this reconsideration possible. It is now being heard that Nestorius was misunderstood and wrongly interpreted by his opponent, Cyril, and that it was this, together with church politics, which provoked the struggle between them. The fact of the matter, it is said, is that Nestorius’ theology was similar to the old Antiochene school of thought and that he had no heretical tendencies. According to Seeberg, “None of the great ‘heretics’ of the history of dogma have borne this name so unjustly as Nestorius” (Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, II, 2d ed., 204). Seeberg and Loofs have done more than any others to rehabilitate Nestorius.
It must be said in this connection, however, that these two historians of dogma represent a theological point of view which is much more closely related to Nestorius and the Antiochene school than it is to the Alexandrian. The Antiochene Christology, with its emphasis on the historical Christ and on the moral union of the divine and human elements, has been found more tenable, as seen from the scientific point of view, than the Alexandrian Christology with its emphasis on the physical union of Christ’s two natures or the deifying of the flesh. The Antiochene Christology is better adapted to the modern scientific point of view, and it is this which explains, in part at least, the altered verdict on Nestorius. It is obvious, however, that his teachings were misinterpreted by his opponents in the heat of their struggle, and also that the fight against him was not motivated entirely by theological considerations. The difference between Nestorius’ theology and the theology of the older Antiochenes was not as great as his opponents claimed it to be.
The basis of Nestorius’ Christology was the same as that of the earlier Antiochene theologians; all insisted that the divine and human natures in Christ must not be confused, that they must be thought of as completely distinct. The immediate point in question between Nestorius and his opponents was related to this fundamental teaching, though in itself it would appear that this point was no more than an insignificant detail. The Alexandrian theologians had begun to refer to Mary as θεοτοκος (the mother of God). If there was in Christ a physical union of God and man, then, it was argued, the man Christ who was born of Mary must be called God, and Mary must be called “the mother of God.” This conclusion was in harmony with the adoration of Mary which was increasing at that time. Other things contributed to this same development. It was said, for example, that Mary was untouched by the taint of original sin; it was also held that she remained a virgin throughout her life.
But Nestorius was opposed to the expression θεοτοκος. Mary, he said, gave birth to David’s son, in whom the Logos had taken residence. The divine element in Christ was not to be found in His human nature; it was present only because the Logos had united Himself to this man. This union, according to Nestorius, took place at the time of Christ’s birth. In saying this, Nestorius contradicted the Dynamic Monarchians, who held that this union was not accomplished until the time of Christs baptism. Because he felt as he did about these matters, it was impossible for Nestorius to refer to Mary as θεοτοκος. At most, he claimed, one might refer to her as χριστοτοκος (the mother of Christ).
As a result of this, Nestorius was accused of denying the divinity of Christ. If Christ lived and suffered and died only as a man, then the salvation He wrought is of no avail. The older Antiochene theology held that the human element was united to the divine in Christ in a moral, spiritual fashion, so that He was truly one person. But how did Nestorius feel about this? He, too, spoke of Christ as being one person, but he had a tendency to distinguish between the natures in such a way that there was no actual oneness in the person of Christ. He said, for example, “I distinguish between the natures, but I worship but one [Christ].” This does not imply a real unity in Christ Himself. To say “I worship but one [Christ]” rather implies a subjective unity on the part of the believer.
Whether or not it is fully just to say that Nestorius was a heretic, it is nevertheless true that his trend of thought made it difficult to make a clear statement on the unity of Christ’s person. The divine and human natures stood starkly side by side. Nestorius can be quoted as saying that certain characteristics and events in Jesus’ earthly life were purely human, while in others the divine powers came to the fore. But on the basis of what he believed, it was impossible to express in an adequate manner the simultaneous union of the divine and human elements in Christ.
As we have already noted, Nestorius’ chief opponent was Cyril, the patriarch of Alexandria, who was also his competitor for the greatest ecclesiastical power in the Eastern Church. Cyril was a representative of the Alexandrian school of theology, but he was not as one-sided about this as was Apollinaris. He sought, above all, to combine the basic concepts of the Antiochene theology with those that were typically Alexandrian. But he was ruthless in his opposition to Nestorius, and he published a statement against Nestorius which included a dozen anathemas. At the Council of Ephesus his position emerged victorious. It was there that the Alexandrian θεοτοκος concept was accepted, while the Nestorian point of view was rejected.
In contrast to Apollinaris, Cyril emphasized that Christ is completely man, with a human soul. Both natures are found in Him, each retaining its own qualities. With the Antiochenes, Cyril therefore stressed that there are two complete natures in Christ and that they are not changed into or confused with one another.
But in contrast to Nestorius, Cyril insisted that there is a real, substantial union between the two natures in Christ. He rejected the idea of a moral or devotional union. One of his anathemas against Nestorius goes as follows: “He who does not confess that the Logos came forth from God the Father to unite Himself hypostatically with flesh, to form with the flesh one Christ, God and man, he shall be damned.” If it was not God Himself who appeared in Christ’s earthly life, so that God Himself thus suffered and died, He cannot be our Savior. Nestorius’ point of view made Christ’s true divinity an impossibility, and thereby also salvation through Him.
Cyril described the unity between God and man as a physical or substantial unity. The heart of the matter is found in his words “unity with respect to the hypostasis.” This expression may appear to correspond to the doctrine of the personal union, unio personalis. But in the writings of Cyril the word “hypostasis” does not denote “person,” as in the doctrine of the Trinity; it is rather used as a synonym for ousia. This expression, therefore, suggests the same as the words “unity with respect to the essence.” What Cyril is trying to say here is that this is a question of a real union, which is implicit in the nature of the matter itself, in Christ Himself, and not simply in our worship of Him. Cyril, in other words, borrowed from Apollinaris, who said, “God’s Logos has but one nature, that which became flesh.”
Because Cyril asserted, at the same time, that the two natures must retain their separate identity, a contradiction developed within his Christology. He placed the Antiochene teaching of the two distinct natures (complete with an emphasis on Christ’s true humanity) side by side with the Alexandrian idea of a physical unity. The same paradox is to be found in the Christological formula which was finally fixed and accepted as definitive, but in Cyril this concept is not as sharply delineated. His point of view has been recognized as fully orthodox, but at the same time it was also possible for the later Monophysites to accept certain of his formulations.
In the doctrinal controversy which preceded the Council of Chalcedon in 451, it was the Nestorian and Cyrillic points of view which constantly contended for domination. A third important element involved in this struggle was the Western Christological position, which was developed by Hilary, Ambrose, and Augustine. Their ideas, and the way in which they were presented, exerted a decisive influence on the eventual formation of the official ecclesiastical point of view. Even Tertullian had spoken of Christ as having two natures in the one person. Western theology developed this concept by saying that it is the Logos who constitutes the person of Christ itself, who took up human nature and united Himself with it and acted through it. Christ, therefore, is but one person, and this person bears the stamp of divine nature. Such ideas are similar to the Alexandrian point of view. At the same time, however, the distinction between the natures was emphasized.
Eutyches; the Council of Chalcedon
Eutyches, who was the archimandrate of a cloister in Constantinople, was in general agreement with the Alexandrian school of theology and was definitely opposed to the Antiochene Christology. He claimed that after Christ became man He had but one nature. His humanity, however, was not of the same essence as ours. On the basis of these beliefs, Eutyches was excommunicated in Constantinople. The matter was finally brought before Pope Leo I. A general synod was called to meet in Ephesus in 449, and it was here, with the assistance of the Alexandrian party, that Eutyches was reinstated into his office. The papal attitude in this matter, which was conveyed in a letter to Bishop Flavian of Constantinople, was not even discussed. This is the synod which is remembered in church history as the “robber synod.” It has been given this name because of its stormy proceedings, and it never received recognition as an ecumenical council.
As a sequel to the “robber synod,” Pope Leo’s above-mentioned letter came to the fore as the center of interest. It was Leo’s intention to call into being a new meeting which would undo the decisions taken at Ephesus. Hence it was that another synod was held in 451, this one in Chalcedon. By that time the situation had been altered to the pope’s advantage, and his letter served as the basis for the proceedings at Chalcedon. Here it was that the Alexandrian point of view was sharply repudiated, while Leo’s Western position was commended. The pope’s letter was not expressly approved by the council, however; it rather decided to write a new formula which was clearly Western in tenor. This formula rejected not only Nestorius but also Eutyches, which is to say that it repudiated both pronounced Dyophysitism and pronounced Monophysitism. On the one hand, Chalcedon condemned those who proclaimed “two sons,” and on the other, those who assumed that there were “two natures before the union but only one after the union.”
The Chalcedonian decision marks the conclusion reached as the result of the various controversies which arose in the early church, and it provides the confessional summary of the thought processes which flourished within the Christological sphere. A glance at a number of the decisive sentences in the formula will reveal how Chalcedon was related to the earlier points of view, and how the different controversies were settled: “We confess one and the same Son [against Nestorius, who so distinguished between David’s son and God’s Son that he was believed to teach that there were ‘two sons’], our Lord Jesus Christ, who is perfect in His divinity [against dynamism, Arius, and Nestorius] and perfect in humanity … with a reasonable soul and a body [against Apollinaris, who replaced Christ’s human soul with the Logos and taught that the Logos assumed a “heavenly flesh“], of one essence with the Father according to divinity [cf. the Nicene Creed] and of the same essence as we according to humanity [against Eutyches], like us in all things save that He was without sin; who according to His divinity was generated by the Father before all time, and who according to His humanity was born of the Virgin Mary, the mother of God [Cyril vs. Nestorius; cf. Ephesus, 431], for our salvation: one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, Only-begotten, revealed in two natures [the Western Christology] without confusion, without change [against Eutyches—and earlier opinions such as that of Apollinaris], indivisibly, inseparably, the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one person and one hypostasis, not parted or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son and only begotten God, Logos, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
The significance of the Council of Chalcedon was extremely great. The intention of the decision reached there was to combine the Alexandrian and Antiochene positions. Nestorius was condemned, but none of the other Antiochenes was. Eutyches’ teachings were repudiated, but Cyril’s were recognized as orthodox. The men gathered at Chalcedon also had a loftier goal in mind: the combining of Eastern and Western points of view in connection with these dogmatic questions. Pope Leo I, who gave the development of Christology a Western touch, exerted a great influence on the decision reached at Chalcedon. Here it was, therefore, that ideas from Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch were combined in a common, orthodox doctrinal formulation.
Severus; Monophysitism
Long-standing doctrinal controversies arose in the wake of the Council of Chalcedon. These were conditioned in part by political motives, but the theological position sanctioned at Chalcedon also helped to ignite the flames. Numerous groups, particularly in the area of the Eastern Church, opposed certain expressions in the Chalcedonian formula. It was thought that Chalcedon made concessions to Nestorius’ teaching of the two persons in Christ and thereby denied the unity of the person of Jesus. Some went so far as to say that the Christ described in the Chalcedonian formula was an “idol with two faces.”
As a result of this opposition, the so-called Monophysite school arose, which can be divided into two main groups. One of these represented a more moderate position and deviated but little from the orthodox Christology, even though it refused to recognize the Chalcedonian decision. Its chief spokesman was Severus of Antioch, whose theological position was close to that of Cyril of Alexandria. The formula cited above (p. 97) which states that “God’s Logos has but one nature, that which became flesh,” was interpreted by Severus in such a way that the word “nature” corresponds more nearly to the hypostasis concept, or “person,” than to the Chalcedonian use of “nature” (which signified “essence,” or “substance”). As a result, Severus’ understanding did not exclude what the church taught concerning two natures. He also held fast to the belief that Christ is true man.
In the other Monophysite branch we find a trend of thought which reminds us of Apollinaris of Laodicea or of the Eutychianism which was rejected by the Council of Chalcedon. Those who upheld this Monophysite position began with the idea that Christ in His manhood could not have the same nature as we; they rather believed that He transmuted His human nature to conform with the divine nature. They were unable, apparently, to do justice to Christ’s true humanity without thinking of the flesh as having been deified in one way or another. Thus, according to one theory, Christ’s body was glorified and exalted to a state of incorruptibility from the outset of the Incarnation. In other words, Christ’s body was the same before the Resurrection as it was after this took place. This point of view, frequently referred to as Incorruptible Docetism, was upheld by Julian of Halikarnassus, among others.
The Monophysites criticized the Chalcedonian decision on the basis that it would be unreasonable to speak of the two natures in Christ and yet maintain that there is but one person, or hypostasis. Nature or essence must also include an independent hypostasis. One could not speak of a perfect human nature without also thinking of it as an independent personal existence. If one assumed that there are two natures, this would imply (said the Monophysites), as a matter of fact, that one also was thinking of two persons.
This criticism had its effect on the interpretation of the Chalcedonian formula. For one thing, in the years that followed there was a tendency to strengthen the emphasis on the unity of Christ’s person. Thus it was that the Chalcedonian decision regained its domination; the Monophysite position failed to win the victory. It was nevertheless true, to a certain extent at least, that the problem raised by the Monophysites was not completely resolved. The question still remained: How can a belief in the two natures be combined with a belief in one person, or hypostasis?
Leontius of Byzantium; the Monothelite Controversy
One answer to the chief problem involved in the Monophysite struggle was provided by Leontius of Byzantium (d. 543). He derived some assistance from the philosophy of Aristotle; in fact, he was one of the first theologians to do this. In his Christology, however, he borrowed the terminology of the three Cappadocians, for the most part, and contributed the idea of the “enhypostasis” as a solution to the contradiction between the Monophysite and Dyophysite points of view.
He began with the old concepts employed in the doctrine of the Trinity, φυσις (= ουσια) and υποστασις (= προσωποv). Φυσις indicates a thing’s “beingness”—that it is, and that it is constituted in a certain way. It refers to that which makes a thing what it is. The hypostasis concept denotes that something exists for itself, as an independent subject. These concepts were in current use previously. In the Christological formulation, therefore, Christ was presented as two natures (essences) in one hypostasis (person). The problem, therefore, is this: Can there be a “nature” which is perfect with respect to its own kind and which is nevertheless not an independent hypostasis? Leontius sought to solve this problem by the use of the εvυποστασια concept. It is conceivable that there is a nature which does not have an independent existence but rather exists in something else. There is in Christ but one hypostasis, and this is the hypostasis of the Logos, which has existed from eternity and which, in time, took upon itself human nature. Therefore the Logos became the hypostasis of the man Christ as well, so that Christ’s human nature has its hypostasis in the Logos. Christ’s human nature is not without a hypostasis; it rather has its hypostasis in something other, viz., in the Logos (εv-υποστατοσ).
This type of Christology suggested an approach to the Monophysite position. It is the Logos which constitutes the person of Christ, which provides the hypostasis even for the human nature. This human nature does have an independent existence, but it is incorporated, so to speak, into the Logos. This does not deny, however, that Christ’s human nature is complete, consisting of both body and soul.
This “enhypostasis” theology was endorsed by the Fifth Ecumenical Council (held in Constantinople, 553) and judged to be a correct interpretation of the Chalcedonian decision. As a result of this, the Monophysites obtained a certain degree of support for their views. They still were not satisfied, however, with the solution set forth by Leontius. His position was presented in a purely logical manner, while the Monophysites desired to give expression to a physical union. Subsequent to this, the Monophysites went their own way and organized their own church body, which was found, for the most part, in Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. A number of national churches in the East came to have a Monophysite character: the Armenian, the Syrian-Jacobite, the Egyptian (Coptic), and later the church in Abyssinia. In general it was the more moderate branch of Monophysitism (that represented by Severus) which influenced the churches in these areas.
After the Monophysite controversy had run its course, the so-called Monothelite struggle arose. The major question involved here was this: Does Christ have one will or two? It is worthy of note, in this connection, that the Christological problem (as reflected in this struggle) had moved away from purely metaphysical considerations; concrete psychological factors were now being injected. This did not, however, result in greater clarity. The Monothelites accepted the teaching of the two natures, but they insisted that Christ had but one will—that of the divine Logos. They sought thus to do justice to the psychological unity which characterizes the Biblical picture of Christ. The will, they maintained, belongs to the person and forms one facet of its essence. The Dyothelites said, on the other hand, that such a position came very close to Docetism. If one believes that Christ possesses a complete human nature, this presupposes that He also has a purely human will, just as His divine nature has a divine will. Those who held this position also believed, however, that that divine will dominates and works through the human will, so that there is no gulf between them. Such a point of view was developed by Maximus the Confessor (d. 662) and was accepted by the church at the Sixth Ecumenical Council (also held in Constantinople, 680–81), the so-called Trullan Synod. An attempt was made at this council to combine Dyothelitism with the enhypostasis idea, thus emphasizing the independence of both natures as well as the existence of the human nature in the divine. This decision was not clear-cut, however, and it was not recognized by the Reformers of the 16th century.
John of Damascus
The Christological position of the early church attained a degree of completeness in the work of John of Damascus, who lived in the eighth century (the years of his birth and death are unknown). More than anyone else, he summarized the tradition which subsequently became the norm in the Greek Orthodox Church. He also exerted a profound influence in the West. John reechoed the theology of the early church fathers and presented it in a standardized form with the assistance of the philosophical apparatus he employed. His magnum opus is entitled The Source of Knowledge, and it consists of three different parts. The first section is dialectic in form and discusses nothing but the philosophical questions; the second section deals with heresy; while the third is the dogmatic section, “An Exposition of the Orthodox Faith.” This last section eventually came to serve as the dogmatic norm of the Greek Church.
John was well acquainted with Aristotelian and Neoplatonic philosophy, and he borrowed concepts and thought forms from both. These were used as the foundation of his theological system. In other words, he employed a scholastic methodology; he was the first to do so in the field of dogmatics. For the most part he collected the ideas of the past and gave them a more specific form without pretending to be original. His scholastic adaptations are his chief contribution. In the extended presentation of his Christological position he associated himself with Leontius of Byzantium and Maximus the Confessor.
John of Damascus strongly emphasized the unity of the person of Christ: “The hypostasis of God’s Logos is perpetually one.” This one hypostasis is, at the same time, the hypostasis of the Logos and of the human soul and body. He believed, in other words, that the human nature exists in the divine and does not have an independent personal existence.
At the same time John also emphasized the difference between the two natures and assumed the Dyothelite point of view. He gave careful consideration to the question of the relationship of the two natures to one another and contributed some new ideas in this area. Because of the unity of the person, a “mutual penetration” takes place, by which the Logos takes up the human nature and then imparts His qualities to it. Thus it can be said, for example, that “the Lord of glory” was crucified or, on the other hand, that the man Jesus is uncreated and infinite. In this way both natures retain their uniqueness and distinction.
John also gave very strong expression to something which at times would seem to contradict what he said about the idea of “mutual penetration.” For he went on record as believing that it was the divine nature alone which penetrated the human, and not vice versa. He did this to give point to the fact that divinity, as such, must remain unchanged, untouched by suffering and death. The rays of the sun which shine upon a tree are not affected by the fact that the tree is cut down. So it is with God; He is above the suffering which Christ experienced. If one asks about the natures in an abstract sense (as “divinity” and “humanity”), they must be sharply distinguished; the divine does not become human, the human does not become divine. But if one looks upon Christ as an actual person, the unity of the natures is apparent. He is wholly and completely God and at the same time wholly and completely man—as far as the identity and unity of His person are concerned. That which accomplishes this unity, therefore, is the hypostasis of the Word, which also becomes the hypostasis of the human nature manifested in Christ. The picture of Christ which we find in the scholastic formulations of John of Damascus is also reflected, in a way, in the iconography of the Orthodox Church, in which our Lords transcendent and majestic qualifies clearly shine forth.
The role of symbolism is consistent with the degree to which the absolute transcendence of divinity is emphasized. It was not sheer coincidence that the theology of John of Damascus came to the defense of the “worship of pictures” (this did not imply worship in its true sense; it rather suggested adoration and veneration). Symbols serve to mediate divinity; they are accessible to the senses and represent that which is invisible, heavenly. Pictures do, in a real sense, represent the divine, and as such they might become the object of adoration. After a long struggle between the opposing parties in the Eastern (Byzantine) Church (some were strongly opposed to the adoration of pictures), it was decided at the Council of Nicaea in 787 that this practice was acceptable (see below, p. 153).
Such questions came to the fore in the earliest period of church history, particularly in the struggle with the Docetists and in the rejection of the Ebionites. The heretical tendencies implicit in these schools of thought reappeared in new forms during the so-called Christological controversies, which had a prominent place in the development of dogma beginning with the middle of the fourth century.
Apollinaris
The fact that the Christological question reappeared at this time must be seen against the background of the rejection of Arianism and the confirmation of the homoousios formula. How could the fact that the Logos is of one substance with the Father be combined with the fact that the Logos appeared in human form? That was the major question involved in the theological discussions of the time.
The man who first posed the problem in this form, and motivated the ongoing theological reworking of the answer, was Apollinaris of Laodicea, who appeared on the scene sometime after the middle of the fourth century. And while he was actually a member of the “Nicene party,” he nevertheless dealt with the Christological problem in a way that was repudiated by the church.
Apollinaris was not satisfied to accept the idea that the Logos (i. e., Christ) was, with respect to His divine nature, of the same substance as the Father. The main problem, as he saw it, was this: How can man conceive of Christ’s human existence? According to Apollinaris, Christ’s human nature had to possess a divine quality. If this were not the ease, Christ’s life and death could not have wrought man’s salvation. It would appear, therefore, that Apollinaris taught as follows: God in Christ was transmuted into flesh, and this flesh was then transmuted into something by nature divine. According to this point of view, Christ did not receive His human nature, His flesh, from the Virgin Mary; He rather brought with Him, from heaven, a heavenly kind of flesh. The womb of Mary simply served as a passageway. (Cf. Schoeps, Vom himmlischen Fleisch Christi, 1951, p. 9 ff., and Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines, p. 294)
As Apollinaris understood Christ, therefore, He has only one nature and one hypostasis. This nature is the nature of the Logos, which in Christ was transmuted into flesh. The latter, in turn, assumed a divine quality at the same time. Apollinaris strongly opposed the idea that the divine and human elements in Christ were combined, that the Logos simply arrayed Himself in human nature and was connected with it in a spiritual manner.
One of Apollinaris’ characteristic tendencies is to be seen in the way he developed his idea about how the Logos became man. To accomplish this, he proceeded from the distinction between flesh and spirit, or between body, soul, and spirit. Man is constituted of these components, and it is the spirit (or the reasonable soul) which makes man what he is—which provides his true essence. Christ’s reason or spirit did not consist of human reason; it consisted of God’s Logos. God and man are therefore united in Christ as body and soul are in man, inasmuch as the human soul was replaced by God’s Logos.
This unity of Logos and flesh has had the result that the flesh is thought of as a divine or heavenly flesh. For it is the spirit or reason which molds the physical so that, together, they form one nature. In Christ, however, as Apollinaris saw it, this one nature is of a divine variety.
It is obvious that Apollinaris emphasized the divinity of Christ to such a degree that he lost sight of His true humanity. Christ, according to Apollinaris, does not have a human soul. He has but one nature, the incarnate nature of the divine Logos. Because of this point of view, Apollinaris was not far removed from the old modalism. There was a strain of Docetism in his theology. Opposition to Apollinaris came chiefly from the Cappadocians and from the school in Antioch. In contending with him, the opposition emphasized that Christ’s true humanity must mean that He not only had a human body but also a human soul, for it is body and soul together which provide the essence of humanity. Apart from human reason, man is no longer man. Apollinaris’ detractors were also repulsed by his assertion that God Himself would be fleshly, or that He submitted Himself to suffering.
Antioch and Alexandria
The so-called school of Antioch was very sharply opposed to Apollinaris. Its foremost representatives were Diodorus of Tarsus (d. 394), Theodore of Mopsuestia (d. 428), and Theodoretus. The famous preacher John Chrysostom (d. 407) can also be included in this list, as well as Nestorius, whose teachings were later rejected as being heretical. When Nestorius’ theology was repudiated, the influence of this school diminished considerably. But it was nevertheless very significant for the development of doctrine, and it distinguished itself particularly for its consistent scientific approach.
The Antiochene exegetes refused to employ the allegorical method; instead, they worked out a historical-grammatical mode of interpretation. Scripture, they said, must be interpreted in a literal sense, in a manner consistent with its original meaning.
The Christology which developed in Antioch was also related to this basic historical approach. The primary emphasis was placed on the humanity of Christ. Christ, they said, had both a human soul and a human body; furthermore, He underwent a process of development. It was thus that He became more closely united to God, until the process was completed at the time of the Resurrection.
The Antiochenes also held fast to the Nicene decision regarding the homoousios. According to His divine nature, Christ was actually of the same substance as the Father. The Logos, however, was not transmuted into a man; instead, He retained His divine nature, took upon Himself a human form, and united Himself to human nature. This union was conceived of thus by the Antiochenes: the Logos employed human nature as an organ; He worked through it. At the same time, however, the two natures remained distinct; each was an independent entity, and they were united only by their activity and by their unity of purpose. It was, then, a question concerning spiritual and moral unity; it was not a physical problem, as it was for Apollinaris.
As a result of such opinions, the Antiochene theologians also opposed Apollinaris on Christological grounds. Each of the two natures in Christ must be preserved intact. The divine and human natures were not changed in such a way that the one was merged into the other. Christ possessed the true divine nature, but at the same time He was also a real man with a human body and soul. To Apollinaris, Christ had but one nature: the divine. The Antiochenes asserted that we must distinguish between the Logos and the human nature which He assumed. The Logos combined Himself with man and dwelt in him as in a temple. This does not mean that the one nature was merged into the other. The natures were not transformed in such a way that they became identical. When we read in John 1:14 that “the Word became flesh,” the “became” (εγεvετο) must be interpreted in a figurative sense, said Theodore. The Logos took flesh upon Himself, but He did not become flesh. “For when it says that ‘He took’ the form of a servant (Phil. 2:7), that means that it actually happened thus; it was not a pretense. But when we read that ‘He became,’ that must not be taken literally, for He was not transmuted into flesh.” (De incarnatione, 9)
The Antiochenes therefore emphasized the difference between the two natures and insisted that each retained its own unique qualities. There was a complete divine nature, that of God’s Logos, and a complete human nature. At the same time, however, the original Antiochenes also asserted the unity of the person. And it was this aspect of the Christological problem which was decisive for the school of Antioch. It was on this point, for example, that Nestorius was accused of heresy. His predecessors had emphasized the fact that Christ is one person, with one will, and a single independent existence. “We do not say that there are two sons; we properly believe in but one Son. For the distinction between the two natures must be upheld unconditionally, and the unity of the person perpetually maintained.” (Theodore, De incarnatione, 12)
In the struggle which involved the Antiochenes and Apollinaris was reflected the persistent opposition of the two leading theological schools of that period, the one in Antioch and the other in Alexandria. This opposition was based on two different points of view regarding the entire field of theology. The Antiochene school emphasized the historical aspect, rejected the use of allegory, and put particular stress on Jesus’ earthly, human existence, His development and historicity. The Alexandrian school, on the other hand, was deeply influenced by Greek philosophy, with its emphasis on the metaphysical, on the spiritual, divine realities, as well as its sharp antithesis between the divine and the human. The divine element in Christ was emphasized in such a way that the human element was not always properly recognized.
Parallels to both of these points of view can be seen in two diverse tendencies in the New Testament. The Incarnation is described in John in terms of Christ “becoming man” (“the Word became flesh,” 1:14), and in Philippians we read that Christ “took the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” (2:7)
In the Antiochene school the attempt was made to do justice to both the divine element and the historical, human element in Christ. The unity between the two was described as being of a moral nature, a unity of will. The believer, of course, worships the one Christ—a subjective form of unity. In reality there are two essences or natures.
The Alexandrian point of view was based on the fundamental distinction between the divine and the human, which coincides, of course, with the attitude of idealism. The Incarnation was set forth as a transmutation of the Deity into human nature. But in view of the fact that the divine essence is unchangeable, this meant that human nature was elevated to the level of divinity, transmuted into divine nature. Conceived of thus, unity was thought to involve not only activity and will, but substance itself. It was, in other words, a substantial, physical unity, in which the qualities of human nature disappeared.
Nestorius and Cyril
The opposition between the Alexandrians and the Antiochenes provided the background for the bitter struggle which took place between Nestorius and Cyril at the beginning of the fifth century. It must be said, however, that church politics and personal ambition also entered the picture. Alexandria was in competition with Antioch, and particularly with Constantinople, for ecclesiastical domination in the East, and theological questions became involved in this fight for power.The Synod of Ephesus (431) decided in favor of the Alexandrian theology, and Nestorius, who upheld the opposing position, was declared heretical and driven into exile. When this was done, the entire Nestorian party separated itself from the rest of the church. The Nestorians then organized their own church body in Persia, and spread throughout Asia, but they were doomed to an isolated existence. Small Nestorian congregations have remained, however, right down to the present time (cf. The Marthoma Church in India).
Nestorius, who became patriarch of Constantinople in 428, was in general a representative of the Antiochene school of theology. The verdict of history on Nestorius and his works has changed radically. Because of the anathema hurled at him by his contemporaries, it has been generally concluded that he carried the Antiochene point of view a bit too far and that he came up with a false Christology as a result. It has been thought that he set forth a doctrine of “two Christs,” one divine and one human, and thereby invalidated the Christian faith. Thus it was that the “heretic” label has been attached to Nestorius, and he has been held up as the prototype of a point of view which presents a false antithesis between the divine and the human.
During the time of the Reformation, for example, the Roman Catholic Church was accused of having a Nestorian Christology. In our own time, one could point to the attitude which often forms the basis for the scientific approach to theology; it is marked by a bifurcated view of theology, one using history as a point of departure, the other using religious experience. A similar distinction is made between the historical Jesus and Christ, the Son of God. These attempts to solve the question of the relationship between theology and science remind us in a way of Nestorius and the basic elements in his Christology.
Modern research has presented us with an evaluation of Nestorius which is completely at variance with the older tradition. Improved access to primary sources has made this reconsideration possible. It is now being heard that Nestorius was misunderstood and wrongly interpreted by his opponent, Cyril, and that it was this, together with church politics, which provoked the struggle between them. The fact of the matter, it is said, is that Nestorius’ theology was similar to the old Antiochene school of thought and that he had no heretical tendencies. According to Seeberg, “None of the great ‘heretics’ of the history of dogma have borne this name so unjustly as Nestorius” (Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, II, 2d ed., 204). Seeberg and Loofs have done more than any others to rehabilitate Nestorius.
It must be said in this connection, however, that these two historians of dogma represent a theological point of view which is much more closely related to Nestorius and the Antiochene school than it is to the Alexandrian. The Antiochene Christology, with its emphasis on the historical Christ and on the moral union of the divine and human elements, has been found more tenable, as seen from the scientific point of view, than the Alexandrian Christology with its emphasis on the physical union of Christ’s two natures or the deifying of the flesh. The Antiochene Christology is better adapted to the modern scientific point of view, and it is this which explains, in part at least, the altered verdict on Nestorius. It is obvious, however, that his teachings were misinterpreted by his opponents in the heat of their struggle, and also that the fight against him was not motivated entirely by theological considerations. The difference between Nestorius’ theology and the theology of the older Antiochenes was not as great as his opponents claimed it to be.
The basis of Nestorius’ Christology was the same as that of the earlier Antiochene theologians; all insisted that the divine and human natures in Christ must not be confused, that they must be thought of as completely distinct. The immediate point in question between Nestorius and his opponents was related to this fundamental teaching, though in itself it would appear that this point was no more than an insignificant detail. The Alexandrian theologians had begun to refer to Mary as θεοτοκος (the mother of God). If there was in Christ a physical union of God and man, then, it was argued, the man Christ who was born of Mary must be called God, and Mary must be called “the mother of God.” This conclusion was in harmony with the adoration of Mary which was increasing at that time. Other things contributed to this same development. It was said, for example, that Mary was untouched by the taint of original sin; it was also held that she remained a virgin throughout her life.
But Nestorius was opposed to the expression θεοτοκος. Mary, he said, gave birth to David’s son, in whom the Logos had taken residence. The divine element in Christ was not to be found in His human nature; it was present only because the Logos had united Himself to this man. This union, according to Nestorius, took place at the time of Christ’s birth. In saying this, Nestorius contradicted the Dynamic Monarchians, who held that this union was not accomplished until the time of Christs baptism. Because he felt as he did about these matters, it was impossible for Nestorius to refer to Mary as θεοτοκος. At most, he claimed, one might refer to her as χριστοτοκος (the mother of Christ).
As a result of this, Nestorius was accused of denying the divinity of Christ. If Christ lived and suffered and died only as a man, then the salvation He wrought is of no avail. The older Antiochene theology held that the human element was united to the divine in Christ in a moral, spiritual fashion, so that He was truly one person. But how did Nestorius feel about this? He, too, spoke of Christ as being one person, but he had a tendency to distinguish between the natures in such a way that there was no actual oneness in the person of Christ. He said, for example, “I distinguish between the natures, but I worship but one [Christ].” This does not imply a real unity in Christ Himself. To say “I worship but one [Christ]” rather implies a subjective unity on the part of the believer.
Whether or not it is fully just to say that Nestorius was a heretic, it is nevertheless true that his trend of thought made it difficult to make a clear statement on the unity of Christ’s person. The divine and human natures stood starkly side by side. Nestorius can be quoted as saying that certain characteristics and events in Jesus’ earthly life were purely human, while in others the divine powers came to the fore. But on the basis of what he believed, it was impossible to express in an adequate manner the simultaneous union of the divine and human elements in Christ.
As we have already noted, Nestorius’ chief opponent was Cyril, the patriarch of Alexandria, who was also his competitor for the greatest ecclesiastical power in the Eastern Church. Cyril was a representative of the Alexandrian school of theology, but he was not as one-sided about this as was Apollinaris. He sought, above all, to combine the basic concepts of the Antiochene theology with those that were typically Alexandrian. But he was ruthless in his opposition to Nestorius, and he published a statement against Nestorius which included a dozen anathemas. At the Council of Ephesus his position emerged victorious. It was there that the Alexandrian θεοτοκος concept was accepted, while the Nestorian point of view was rejected.
In contrast to Apollinaris, Cyril emphasized that Christ is completely man, with a human soul. Both natures are found in Him, each retaining its own qualities. With the Antiochenes, Cyril therefore stressed that there are two complete natures in Christ and that they are not changed into or confused with one another.
But in contrast to Nestorius, Cyril insisted that there is a real, substantial union between the two natures in Christ. He rejected the idea of a moral or devotional union. One of his anathemas against Nestorius goes as follows: “He who does not confess that the Logos came forth from God the Father to unite Himself hypostatically with flesh, to form with the flesh one Christ, God and man, he shall be damned.” If it was not God Himself who appeared in Christ’s earthly life, so that God Himself thus suffered and died, He cannot be our Savior. Nestorius’ point of view made Christ’s true divinity an impossibility, and thereby also salvation through Him.
Cyril described the unity between God and man as a physical or substantial unity. The heart of the matter is found in his words “unity with respect to the hypostasis.” This expression may appear to correspond to the doctrine of the personal union, unio personalis. But in the writings of Cyril the word “hypostasis” does not denote “person,” as in the doctrine of the Trinity; it is rather used as a synonym for ousia. This expression, therefore, suggests the same as the words “unity with respect to the essence.” What Cyril is trying to say here is that this is a question of a real union, which is implicit in the nature of the matter itself, in Christ Himself, and not simply in our worship of Him. Cyril, in other words, borrowed from Apollinaris, who said, “God’s Logos has but one nature, that which became flesh.”
Because Cyril asserted, at the same time, that the two natures must retain their separate identity, a contradiction developed within his Christology. He placed the Antiochene teaching of the two distinct natures (complete with an emphasis on Christ’s true humanity) side by side with the Alexandrian idea of a physical unity. The same paradox is to be found in the Christological formula which was finally fixed and accepted as definitive, but in Cyril this concept is not as sharply delineated. His point of view has been recognized as fully orthodox, but at the same time it was also possible for the later Monophysites to accept certain of his formulations.
In the doctrinal controversy which preceded the Council of Chalcedon in 451, it was the Nestorian and Cyrillic points of view which constantly contended for domination. A third important element involved in this struggle was the Western Christological position, which was developed by Hilary, Ambrose, and Augustine. Their ideas, and the way in which they were presented, exerted a decisive influence on the eventual formation of the official ecclesiastical point of view. Even Tertullian had spoken of Christ as having two natures in the one person. Western theology developed this concept by saying that it is the Logos who constitutes the person of Christ itself, who took up human nature and united Himself with it and acted through it. Christ, therefore, is but one person, and this person bears the stamp of divine nature. Such ideas are similar to the Alexandrian point of view. At the same time, however, the distinction between the natures was emphasized.
Eutyches; the Council of Chalcedon
Eutyches, who was the archimandrate of a cloister in Constantinople, was in general agreement with the Alexandrian school of theology and was definitely opposed to the Antiochene Christology. He claimed that after Christ became man He had but one nature. His humanity, however, was not of the same essence as ours. On the basis of these beliefs, Eutyches was excommunicated in Constantinople. The matter was finally brought before Pope Leo I. A general synod was called to meet in Ephesus in 449, and it was here, with the assistance of the Alexandrian party, that Eutyches was reinstated into his office. The papal attitude in this matter, which was conveyed in a letter to Bishop Flavian of Constantinople, was not even discussed. This is the synod which is remembered in church history as the “robber synod.” It has been given this name because of its stormy proceedings, and it never received recognition as an ecumenical council.
As a sequel to the “robber synod,” Pope Leo’s above-mentioned letter came to the fore as the center of interest. It was Leo’s intention to call into being a new meeting which would undo the decisions taken at Ephesus. Hence it was that another synod was held in 451, this one in Chalcedon. By that time the situation had been altered to the pope’s advantage, and his letter served as the basis for the proceedings at Chalcedon. Here it was that the Alexandrian point of view was sharply repudiated, while Leo’s Western position was commended. The pope’s letter was not expressly approved by the council, however; it rather decided to write a new formula which was clearly Western in tenor. This formula rejected not only Nestorius but also Eutyches, which is to say that it repudiated both pronounced Dyophysitism and pronounced Monophysitism. On the one hand, Chalcedon condemned those who proclaimed “two sons,” and on the other, those who assumed that there were “two natures before the union but only one after the union.”
The Chalcedonian decision marks the conclusion reached as the result of the various controversies which arose in the early church, and it provides the confessional summary of the thought processes which flourished within the Christological sphere. A glance at a number of the decisive sentences in the formula will reveal how Chalcedon was related to the earlier points of view, and how the different controversies were settled: “We confess one and the same Son [against Nestorius, who so distinguished between David’s son and God’s Son that he was believed to teach that there were ‘two sons’], our Lord Jesus Christ, who is perfect in His divinity [against dynamism, Arius, and Nestorius] and perfect in humanity … with a reasonable soul and a body [against Apollinaris, who replaced Christ’s human soul with the Logos and taught that the Logos assumed a “heavenly flesh“], of one essence with the Father according to divinity [cf. the Nicene Creed] and of the same essence as we according to humanity [against Eutyches], like us in all things save that He was without sin; who according to His divinity was generated by the Father before all time, and who according to His humanity was born of the Virgin Mary, the mother of God [Cyril vs. Nestorius; cf. Ephesus, 431], for our salvation: one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, Only-begotten, revealed in two natures [the Western Christology] without confusion, without change [against Eutyches—and earlier opinions such as that of Apollinaris], indivisibly, inseparably, the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one person and one hypostasis, not parted or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son and only begotten God, Logos, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
The significance of the Council of Chalcedon was extremely great. The intention of the decision reached there was to combine the Alexandrian and Antiochene positions. Nestorius was condemned, but none of the other Antiochenes was. Eutyches’ teachings were repudiated, but Cyril’s were recognized as orthodox. The men gathered at Chalcedon also had a loftier goal in mind: the combining of Eastern and Western points of view in connection with these dogmatic questions. Pope Leo I, who gave the development of Christology a Western touch, exerted a great influence on the decision reached at Chalcedon. Here it was, therefore, that ideas from Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch were combined in a common, orthodox doctrinal formulation.
Severus; Monophysitism
Long-standing doctrinal controversies arose in the wake of the Council of Chalcedon. These were conditioned in part by political motives, but the theological position sanctioned at Chalcedon also helped to ignite the flames. Numerous groups, particularly in the area of the Eastern Church, opposed certain expressions in the Chalcedonian formula. It was thought that Chalcedon made concessions to Nestorius’ teaching of the two persons in Christ and thereby denied the unity of the person of Jesus. Some went so far as to say that the Christ described in the Chalcedonian formula was an “idol with two faces.”
As a result of this opposition, the so-called Monophysite school arose, which can be divided into two main groups. One of these represented a more moderate position and deviated but little from the orthodox Christology, even though it refused to recognize the Chalcedonian decision. Its chief spokesman was Severus of Antioch, whose theological position was close to that of Cyril of Alexandria. The formula cited above (p. 97) which states that “God’s Logos has but one nature, that which became flesh,” was interpreted by Severus in such a way that the word “nature” corresponds more nearly to the hypostasis concept, or “person,” than to the Chalcedonian use of “nature” (which signified “essence,” or “substance”). As a result, Severus’ understanding did not exclude what the church taught concerning two natures. He also held fast to the belief that Christ is true man.
In the other Monophysite branch we find a trend of thought which reminds us of Apollinaris of Laodicea or of the Eutychianism which was rejected by the Council of Chalcedon. Those who upheld this Monophysite position began with the idea that Christ in His manhood could not have the same nature as we; they rather believed that He transmuted His human nature to conform with the divine nature. They were unable, apparently, to do justice to Christ’s true humanity without thinking of the flesh as having been deified in one way or another. Thus, according to one theory, Christ’s body was glorified and exalted to a state of incorruptibility from the outset of the Incarnation. In other words, Christ’s body was the same before the Resurrection as it was after this took place. This point of view, frequently referred to as Incorruptible Docetism, was upheld by Julian of Halikarnassus, among others.
The Monophysites criticized the Chalcedonian decision on the basis that it would be unreasonable to speak of the two natures in Christ and yet maintain that there is but one person, or hypostasis. Nature or essence must also include an independent hypostasis. One could not speak of a perfect human nature without also thinking of it as an independent personal existence. If one assumed that there are two natures, this would imply (said the Monophysites), as a matter of fact, that one also was thinking of two persons.
This criticism had its effect on the interpretation of the Chalcedonian formula. For one thing, in the years that followed there was a tendency to strengthen the emphasis on the unity of Christ’s person. Thus it was that the Chalcedonian decision regained its domination; the Monophysite position failed to win the victory. It was nevertheless true, to a certain extent at least, that the problem raised by the Monophysites was not completely resolved. The question still remained: How can a belief in the two natures be combined with a belief in one person, or hypostasis?
Leontius of Byzantium; the Monothelite Controversy
One answer to the chief problem involved in the Monophysite struggle was provided by Leontius of Byzantium (d. 543). He derived some assistance from the philosophy of Aristotle; in fact, he was one of the first theologians to do this. In his Christology, however, he borrowed the terminology of the three Cappadocians, for the most part, and contributed the idea of the “enhypostasis” as a solution to the contradiction between the Monophysite and Dyophysite points of view.
He began with the old concepts employed in the doctrine of the Trinity, φυσις (= ουσια) and υποστασις (= προσωποv). Φυσις indicates a thing’s “beingness”—that it is, and that it is constituted in a certain way. It refers to that which makes a thing what it is. The hypostasis concept denotes that something exists for itself, as an independent subject. These concepts were in current use previously. In the Christological formulation, therefore, Christ was presented as two natures (essences) in one hypostasis (person). The problem, therefore, is this: Can there be a “nature” which is perfect with respect to its own kind and which is nevertheless not an independent hypostasis? Leontius sought to solve this problem by the use of the εvυποστασια concept. It is conceivable that there is a nature which does not have an independent existence but rather exists in something else. There is in Christ but one hypostasis, and this is the hypostasis of the Logos, which has existed from eternity and which, in time, took upon itself human nature. Therefore the Logos became the hypostasis of the man Christ as well, so that Christ’s human nature has its hypostasis in the Logos. Christ’s human nature is not without a hypostasis; it rather has its hypostasis in something other, viz., in the Logos (εv-υποστατοσ).
This type of Christology suggested an approach to the Monophysite position. It is the Logos which constitutes the person of Christ, which provides the hypostasis even for the human nature. This human nature does have an independent existence, but it is incorporated, so to speak, into the Logos. This does not deny, however, that Christ’s human nature is complete, consisting of both body and soul.
This “enhypostasis” theology was endorsed by the Fifth Ecumenical Council (held in Constantinople, 553) and judged to be a correct interpretation of the Chalcedonian decision. As a result of this, the Monophysites obtained a certain degree of support for their views. They still were not satisfied, however, with the solution set forth by Leontius. His position was presented in a purely logical manner, while the Monophysites desired to give expression to a physical union. Subsequent to this, the Monophysites went their own way and organized their own church body, which was found, for the most part, in Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. A number of national churches in the East came to have a Monophysite character: the Armenian, the Syrian-Jacobite, the Egyptian (Coptic), and later the church in Abyssinia. In general it was the more moderate branch of Monophysitism (that represented by Severus) which influenced the churches in these areas.
After the Monophysite controversy had run its course, the so-called Monothelite struggle arose. The major question involved here was this: Does Christ have one will or two? It is worthy of note, in this connection, that the Christological problem (as reflected in this struggle) had moved away from purely metaphysical considerations; concrete psychological factors were now being injected. This did not, however, result in greater clarity. The Monothelites accepted the teaching of the two natures, but they insisted that Christ had but one will—that of the divine Logos. They sought thus to do justice to the psychological unity which characterizes the Biblical picture of Christ. The will, they maintained, belongs to the person and forms one facet of its essence. The Dyothelites said, on the other hand, that such a position came very close to Docetism. If one believes that Christ possesses a complete human nature, this presupposes that He also has a purely human will, just as His divine nature has a divine will. Those who held this position also believed, however, that that divine will dominates and works through the human will, so that there is no gulf between them. Such a point of view was developed by Maximus the Confessor (d. 662) and was accepted by the church at the Sixth Ecumenical Council (also held in Constantinople, 680–81), the so-called Trullan Synod. An attempt was made at this council to combine Dyothelitism with the enhypostasis idea, thus emphasizing the independence of both natures as well as the existence of the human nature in the divine. This decision was not clear-cut, however, and it was not recognized by the Reformers of the 16th century.
John of Damascus
The Christological position of the early church attained a degree of completeness in the work of John of Damascus, who lived in the eighth century (the years of his birth and death are unknown). More than anyone else, he summarized the tradition which subsequently became the norm in the Greek Orthodox Church. He also exerted a profound influence in the West. John reechoed the theology of the early church fathers and presented it in a standardized form with the assistance of the philosophical apparatus he employed. His magnum opus is entitled The Source of Knowledge, and it consists of three different parts. The first section is dialectic in form and discusses nothing but the philosophical questions; the second section deals with heresy; while the third is the dogmatic section, “An Exposition of the Orthodox Faith.” This last section eventually came to serve as the dogmatic norm of the Greek Church.
John was well acquainted with Aristotelian and Neoplatonic philosophy, and he borrowed concepts and thought forms from both. These were used as the foundation of his theological system. In other words, he employed a scholastic methodology; he was the first to do so in the field of dogmatics. For the most part he collected the ideas of the past and gave them a more specific form without pretending to be original. His scholastic adaptations are his chief contribution. In the extended presentation of his Christological position he associated himself with Leontius of Byzantium and Maximus the Confessor.
John of Damascus strongly emphasized the unity of the person of Christ: “The hypostasis of God’s Logos is perpetually one.” This one hypostasis is, at the same time, the hypostasis of the Logos and of the human soul and body. He believed, in other words, that the human nature exists in the divine and does not have an independent personal existence.
At the same time John also emphasized the difference between the two natures and assumed the Dyothelite point of view. He gave careful consideration to the question of the relationship of the two natures to one another and contributed some new ideas in this area. Because of the unity of the person, a “mutual penetration” takes place, by which the Logos takes up the human nature and then imparts His qualities to it. Thus it can be said, for example, that “the Lord of glory” was crucified or, on the other hand, that the man Jesus is uncreated and infinite. In this way both natures retain their uniqueness and distinction.
John also gave very strong expression to something which at times would seem to contradict what he said about the idea of “mutual penetration.” For he went on record as believing that it was the divine nature alone which penetrated the human, and not vice versa. He did this to give point to the fact that divinity, as such, must remain unchanged, untouched by suffering and death. The rays of the sun which shine upon a tree are not affected by the fact that the tree is cut down. So it is with God; He is above the suffering which Christ experienced. If one asks about the natures in an abstract sense (as “divinity” and “humanity”), they must be sharply distinguished; the divine does not become human, the human does not become divine. But if one looks upon Christ as an actual person, the unity of the natures is apparent. He is wholly and completely God and at the same time wholly and completely man—as far as the identity and unity of His person are concerned. That which accomplishes this unity, therefore, is the hypostasis of the Word, which also becomes the hypostasis of the human nature manifested in Christ. The picture of Christ which we find in the scholastic formulations of John of Damascus is also reflected, in a way, in the iconography of the Orthodox Church, in which our Lords transcendent and majestic qualifies clearly shine forth.
The role of symbolism is consistent with the degree to which the absolute transcendence of divinity is emphasized. It was not sheer coincidence that the theology of John of Damascus came to the defense of the “worship of pictures” (this did not imply worship in its true sense; it rather suggested adoration and veneration). Symbols serve to mediate divinity; they are accessible to the senses and represent that which is invisible, heavenly. Pictures do, in a real sense, represent the divine, and as such they might become the object of adoration. After a long struggle between the opposing parties in the Eastern (Byzantine) Church (some were strongly opposed to the adoration of pictures), it was decided at the Council of Nicaea in 787 that this practice was acceptable (see below, p. 153).
No comments:
Post a Comment