Ten Interesting Facts on the Christological Divide that Anticipated Chalcedon, Part 1

(1) The major christological controversies of the fourth and fifth centuries are directly attributable to the fallout from the Arian controversy, particularly the widening rift between two distinct approaches to christology within the Nicene party -- repectively dubbed the Alexandrian and Antiochene approaches to christology.

(2) Arianism shared a fundamental conception of the incarnation with orthodox Alexandrians (i.e., the Nicene party), wherein the Logos was seen as constituting the real subject of everything that happens to the Christ presented in the Gospel accounts. Consequently, both positions agreed that the Logos in the flesh experienced hunger, thirst, doubt, suffering, and every other limitation known to the human condition.

(3) The Arians appealed to these limitations as proof that the Logos possesses a passible nature, and thus is a creature. In contrast, Athanasius and the Alexandrain party argued that in assuming human flesh the Logos had also assumed a human way of being without forfeiting his divine way of being.

(4) Despite these differences, both the orthodox Alexandrians and the Arians worked from the Platonic premise that the physical body is animated by a spirit or soul that is essentially alien to it. Hence, the Logos, in assuming flesh, constitutes the true life-principle or "ego" of Jesus Christ. The weakness of this approach was that it did not adequately account for a separate created human mind in Christ. This approach is aptly characterized as a "Logos-flesh" Christology, and is fundamentally monophysite in its conception of the incarnation.

(5) In contrast, the dyophysite approach of the orthodox Antiochene school, aptly characterized as a "Logos-man" Christology, emphasized the role of Christ as the "Second Adam," and thus understood the Word or Logos as uniting Himself to a complete human nature, both body and soul. However, the weakness of this position lies in viewing the incarnation as a conjoining, rather than a union, of two complete natures, divine and human, each considered to be the proper subject of its own respective actions and attributes.

(6) Tensions between the two christologies can be dated as early as 352 AD. In 362, a temporary doctrinal accord was reached at a synod held in Alexandria, in which Athanasius himself presided. There Paulinus of Antioch successfully argued that Christ must have assumed a full human nature (both body and soul) in order to save man's body and soul. This argument clearly impressed Athanasius. Yet since he held (in common with other Alexandrians) that the Logos was the very archetpye of the mind or soul, it is doubtful that he actually understood or appreciated the full anthropological implications of the Antiochene position.

(7) Serious controversy erupted a decade later when Apollinaris of Laodicea, an ardent defender of Nicene dogma and a friend of Athanasius, put forward an extreme version of the Alexandrian position. Interestingly, Apollinaris had been the person largely responsible for bringing Basil of Caesarea to the homoousian position.

(8) Anticipating the Eutychian heresy of the 5th century, Apollinaris took the Platonic conception of anthropology to its logical conclusion by denying the existence of a human psychology in Christ and contending that the assumption of the flesh by the Logos resulted in a composite unity of impassible divinity and passible flesh, in which the flesh was considered to be fully absorbed into the divine (flowing from an extreme application of the Alexandrian principle of communicatio idiomata). Incidentally, Apollinaris was the first to employ "hypostasis" (Gr. hupostasis) in a christological setting, a term which he understood to be synomous with the terms prosopon (i.e., person) and phusis (i.e., nature).

(9) For the orthodox Alexandrians, the scandal of Apollonaris' teaching was his admission that Christ's nature was different from that of ordinary human nature, thus rendering Christ immune from human passions, suffering, and limitations. The resulting christology was expressed in the phrase "one incarnate nature of the divine Word" (Gr. mian phusin tou theou logou sesarkomenen).

(10) Pope Damasus condemned Apollinaris outright at a synod in Rome in 377. The actions of this synod were confirmed by synods held in Alexandria (378) and Antioch (379) respectively, and finally at the Council of Constantinople (381). Despite the condemnation of Apollinaris' teaching, the Apollinarian-inspired phrase "one incarnate nature of the divine Word" would eventually become associated with the teaching of Cyril of Alexandria, the champion of the Council of Ephesus (431).

Pennsylvanian-Anglican moves to Canterbury

My friend Brett (formerly Pennsylvanian-Anglican) has packed up his blog and moved to a new URL. You can now visit him at A Pilgrim on the Canterbury Trail. I guess Pennsylvania Dutch Country was no match for England's green and pleasant land.

Summer Reading

My inspiration for posting this list comes from the promising young scholar who I hired to teach theology two years ago. Visit his new blog: What God Reads.

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1. J.N.D. Kelly. Early Christian Doctrines, Revised Edition. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1978.

--A book I re-read on a fairly regular basis.

2. Kenneth R. Miller. Finding Darwin's God: A Scientist's Search for Common Ground Between God and Evolution. New York: Harper Perennial, 2007.

--If my readers haven't figured it out yet, this guy changed my entire perspective on the Intelligent Design / Creationism issue.

3. Matthew Alper. The God Part of the Brain: A Scientific Interpretation of Human Spirituality and God. New York: Rogue Press, 2001.

--I haven't started it yet, but plan to soon. The subtitle says it all. I suspect the author is on a spiritual journey and doesn't know it.

4. Nicholas Wade. Before the Dawn: Recovering the Lost History of Our Ancestors. New York: Penguin Books, 2006.

--If you have an open mind (i.e., your gag-reflex is not set off by evolutionary theory), this is an extremely well-written work. I enjoyed every moment of it.

5. Bryan Sykes. Saxons, Vikings, and Celts: The Genetic Roots of Britain and Ireland. New York: W.W. Norton, 2006.

--I couldn't put it down. Sykes is a world renown geneticist and the author of the groundbreaking Seven Daughters of Eve. Not only does he demonstrate that the Celtic roots of England run as deep as those of Ireland, he also shows how genetics can even serve as the bridge between origin-myths and history.

6. Aidan Nichols. No Bloodless Myth: A Guide Through Balthasar's Dramatics. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000.

--Nichols is one of my favorite authors, and Hans Urs Von Balthasar one of the greatest minds of the 20th century. The combination of the two makes for an incredible read.

7. Lorna Kendall, Ed. Michael Ramsey as Theologian. Oxford: Cowley Publications, 1995.

--Something that's been on my shelf for years. Archbishop Ramsey was a giant, so this reads more like a devotional to me. His theological insights never cease to amaze me.

Skewed Theologies, Dangerous Movements, and other Bad Ideas that Threaten to Discredit Christianity in the 21st Century

1. The Evangelical Take on Biblical Inerrancy (e.g., The Chicago Statement)

Any idea or doctrine that must die a death of a thousand qualifications for the sake of plausibility is ... well ... not very plausible. For a better understanding of inerrancy, study Sections 105-107 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

2. Penal Substitution Theory of the Atonement

Lying somewhere between a case of divine child abuse and a gross miscarriage of cosmic justice, it’s high time for this monstrous understanding of the atonement to be abandoned. For a more biblical and patristic alternative, read Gustav Aulen’s Christus Victor.

3. Belief in a Young Earth

Face it, the earth’s years are properly measured in the billions, not the thousands. It is time for Christians to admit and accept this fact as a "given," just like other "givens" once disputed by theologians (such as the fact that our spherical earth rotates on its axis while revolving around the sun).

4. Creation Science

Have you checked out any science reviews lately? Creationist polemics notwithstanding, the fossil evidence is actually mounting in favor of biological evolution. But I predict that Genetics, not Archeology, will pound the final nail into the coffin of Creation Pseudo-science.

5. Intelligent Design (related to, but not the same as, above)

What does it say about the state of contemporary evangelical theology that its best argument against Charles Darwin's century-and-a-half old theory rests on a Deistic rehashing of the age-old “god of the gaps” fallacy? For that matter, what does it say about Darwin's theory? Read Ken Miller’s In Search of Darwin’s God.

6. Dispensationalism and the Modern State of Israel

Where does Scripture teach that Israel has an unrestricted, unconditional deed to prime coastal real estate in the Middle East? There is no telling how much political, domestic, and foreign policy damage has been done by Dispensational theology. Remedy: Study the BIBLE, not Scofield's notes, to show thyself approved.

7. The term "Born-Again Christian"

Redundant, misleading, anti-sacramental, ecclesiologically nonsensical, and much too often a blatant oxymoron.

8. MegaChurches

Rather than challenging narcissism, the MegaChurch embraces and institutionalizes it, thus turning narcissism into a Christian virtue. The resulting paradox is a hugely successful message that is profoundly vacuous of any objective content.

9. TULIP Calvinism

Once upon a time there was Isaac Newton, and then came Albert Einstein. Once upon a time there was Theodore Beza, and then came Karl Barth.

10. The “Imminent” Rapture

It’s been 2000 years folks! The end may be a bit closer, but don’t cash in your pension or stop paying your life insurance premiums just yet!

Ten More Interesting Facts About the Struggle for the Nicene Faith, Part II: The First Council of Constantinople (381)

(1) After the death of Athanasius (373), the intellectual and spiritual struggle against Arianism was taken up by the "new" Nicene party of the Eastern or Greek Church, consisting of old Origenists and former Homoiousians (i.e., "of like substance" with the Father), who had been persuaded by Athanasius to support the Nicene formula. Early on, the mantle of both organizational and theological leadership fell upon Basil of Caesarea (in Cappadocia). He, along with his brother, Gregory of Nyssa, and lifelong friend, Gregory of Nazianzus, would come to be known as the Cappadocian Fathers.

(2) Basil wrote his famous treatise, On the Holy Spirit, to combat the Macedonians or Pneumatomachi ("Spirit-fighters"), a party of former Homoiousians who admitted the divinity of the Son, but not that of the Spirit. Gregory of Nazianzus, known as an orator of great distinction, left behind many homilies defending the cause of the Nicene Faith. Of the three, Gregory of Nyssa possessed the most theological depth, and it was his development of Basil's theology that led to the critical rethink and revision of Eastern Origenist theology that finally brought the "new" Nicenes and the "old" Nicenes together.

(3) Up to this point, the "old" Nicenes had always contended for a single divine hypostasis through which the three Persons -- Father, Son, and Spirit -- subsisted. This explanation sounded suspiciously modalistic to Eastern ears, and, indeed, in some individual cases (like that Marcellus of Ancyra) it frequently was! In contrast, the East had always contended for three individual Hypostases.

(4) By carefully distinguishing between the terms ousia and hupostasis, Gregory successfully contended that the Father, the Son, and the Spirit are three distinct hypostases (i.e., concrete, subsistent realities) that shared a single, identical being or nature (thus properly considered homoousios). What sets the hypostases apart is not activity, but how each hypostasis relates to the others and to the whole, as Source, Offspring, and Procession.

(5) The political and theological turning point for the Cappadocian cause was the defeat of the eastern Augustus, Valens, by the Visigoths at the Battle of Adrianople in 378. The surviving emperor in the West, Gratian, promptly appointed Theodosius I ("the Great") as Augustus in the East, who, unlike Valens, was committed to the Nicene faith. Together, Gratian and Theodosius issued a decree that the whole empire should practice the religion of Damasus of Rome and Peter of Alexandria (i.e., the Nicene faith), effectively establishing these sees as the "senior churches" and guardians of orthodoxy. The Nicene faith was now the official religion of the entire Empire.

(6) Theodosius summoned the council of Constantinople in 381 to deal with the Macedonian issue. Consisting of only 150 eastern bishops, the council had not been intended as an "ecumenical" council at all, but would gradually and eventually be recognized as such.

(7) The council, in contending for the deity of the Spirit, naturally confirmed the original symbol of Nicaea. It also considered another formula based on a baptismal creed in which key Nicene terms and phrases were inserted, and including a phrase declaring that the Holy Spirit is "worshiped and glorified together with the Father and the Son."

(8) The council never actually adopted the new symbol, ironically due to the desire of some and the reluctance of others to insert the term homoousios in reference to the Spirit. Nevertheless, the creed would always be associated with its name and work. Because of its increasing popularity and use as a liturgical symbol, the creed eventually achieved universal acceptance. It was finally confirmed by the Council of Chalcedon in 451, which solemnly declared it to be the faith of the 150 bishops assembled under Theodosius at Constantinople. This creed, rather than the original symbol of Nicaea, is the one we know and recite today as the "Nicene Creed."

(9) Far from being free of contention and controversy, the Council of Constantinople became the source of further tensions between the East and the West: first, by bypassing Rome and Alexandria's choice for president of the council -- Paulinus , a prominent leader of the "old" Nicenes -- in favor of Meletius, a "new" Nicene supported by the majority. Meletius, however, died in the course of the meeting, and the council proceeded to appoint another "new" Nicene, Flavian of Antioch. Gregory of Nazianzus, who had been elected at the beginning of the council to replace the Arian bishop of Constantinople, quickly resigned his see in protest to the council's failure to conciliate Rome. The council then elected Nectarius to be bishop of Constantinople.

(10) The council's Second and Third Canons served to further alienate Rome and Alexandria by declaring (i) Constantinople to be a patriarchal see, and (ii) the bishop of Constantinople to have "the primacy of honor" after the bishop of Rome on the grounds that Constantinople was "new Rome." This not only set up a new source of friction between East and West, but also a new rivalry between Constantinople and Alexandria

TOP FIVES: My Rock Music Favorites

Favorite Rock Groups / Favorite Songs:
1. Pink Floyd / Echoes
2. Beatles / My Guitar Gently Weeps
3. Yes / Revealing Science of God
4. Led Zeppelin / No Quarter
5. Rush / Working Man

Favorite Male Vocalists:
1. Steve Walsh (Kansas)
2. Paul Rodgers (Free, Bad Company)
3. Freddy Mercury (Queen)
4. David Gilmore (Pink Floyd)
5. Van Morrison

Favorite Female Vocalists:
1. Anne Wilson (Heart)
2. Annie Lennox (Eurythmics)
3. Stevie Nicks (Fleetwood Mac)
4. Grace Slick (Jefferson Airplane)
5. Chrissie Hynde (The Pretenders)

Favorite Rock Guitarists:
1. David Gilmore (Pink Floyd)
2. Jimmy Page (Led Zeppelin)
3. Steve Howe (Yes)
4. Eric Clapton (Cream, etc.)
5. Jimmy Hendrix (Jimmy Hendrix Experience)

Favorite Rock Keyboardists:
1. Rick Wakeman (Yes)
2. Keith Emerson (ELP)
3. Richard Wright (Pink Floyd)
4. Kerry Livgren (Kansas)
5. Ray Manzarek (Doors)

Favorite Rock Drummers:
1. Neal Peart (Rush)
2. John Bonham (Led Zeppelin)
3. Bill Bruford (Yes / King Crimson)
4. Stuart Copeland (Police)
5. Carl Palmer (ELP)

Favorite Rock Bassists:
1. Chris Squire (Yes)
2. Sting (Police)
3. Geddy Lee (Rush)
4. John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin)
5. Jack Bruce (Cream)

Favorite Rock Albums (from different groups):
1. Led Zeppelin IV (Led Zeppelin)
2. Aqualung (Jethro Tull)
3. White Album (Beatles)
4. Are You Experienced? (Jimmy Hendrix)
5. Let It Bleed (Rolling Stones)

Favorite Progressive Rock Albums (from different groups):
1. Dark Side of the Moon (Pink Floyd)
2. Close to the Edge (Yes)
3. 2112 (Rush)
4. In the Court of the Crimson King (King Crimson)
5. Masque (Kansas)

Athanasius on the Semi-Arians: De Synodis, ca. 359 AD

Those who deny the council (of Nicaea) altogether, are sufficiently exposed by these brief remarks; those, however, who accept everything else that was defined at Nicaea, and doubt only about the Co-essential (i.e., homoousios), must not be treated as enemies; nor do we here attack them as Ariomaniacs, nor as opponents of the Fathers, but we discuss the matter with them as brothers with brothers, who mean what we mean and dispute only about the word. For, confessing that the Son is from the essence of the Father, and not from another subsistence, and that he is not a creature nor work, but his genuine and natural offspring, and that he is eternally with the Father as being his Word and Wisdom, they are not far from accepting even the phrase Co-essential. Now such is Basil of Ancyra, who wrote concerning the faith. For only to say 'like according to essence' (i.e., homoiousios) is very far from signifying 'of the essence', by which, rather, as they say themselves, the genuine relationship of the Son to the Father is signified....This is sufficient to show that the meaning of the beloved ones, that is, the Semi-arians, is not foreign nor far from the 'Co-essential' (Athanasius, De Synodis, 41, 43).

Ten Interesting Facts About the Struggle for the Nicene Faith

1. Constantine's initial solution to the Arian controversy was to send a letter (in 324) to Alexander of Alexandria and Arius stating that the issue being debated amounted to a minor difference over a point of detail.

2. The idea for dealing with the Arian controversy in an "ecumenical" council came from Hosius of Cordova, who on his return from dropping off Constantine's letter, presided over a council in Antioch which installed Eustathius, an anti-Arian, and issued a rather clumsy confession of faith that proclaimed the Logos "begotten not from non-existence but from the Father, not as made but as properly an offspring."

3. In 325, Constantine invited every bishop of the empire to convene at Nicaea, over 1800 in all, at the empire's expense. However, only about three hundred (the traditional number is 318) actually attended, and only six from the West.

4. Three disparate parties were represented at Nicaea: (1) Arius' supporters, the most prominent being Eusebius of Nicodemia; (2) Alexander's supporters, such as Eustathius of Antioch and Marcellus of Ancyra; and (3) those holding a "conservative" subordinationist position (as taught by Origen), by far the largest contingent, among them Eusebius of Caesarea. Many from this last party were at the time, or would eventually become, sympathizers of Arius.

5. All but two bishops signed the creed, wishing to keep the emperor happy. Yet many expressed suspicion that the creed's language -- particularly the term homoousios -- implied or outright taught the error of modalistic monarchianism. And, indeed, the views of at least one of the creed's prominent fervent supporters, Marcellus of Ancyra, were implicitly monarchian.

6. Eusebius of Nicodemia was exiled shortly after the Council of Nicaea for communicating Arius, but was recalled by Constantine in 328 to become bishop of the imperial capital and Constantine's principle advisor in the process. From this position, he labored to reestablish the dominance of the Eastern subordinationist position, undermining the Nicene formula (under Constantine's nose). Eusebius managed to depose and exile Alexander's successor, Athanasius, on trumped up charges, and Marcellus of Ancyra.

7. After Constantine's death, the depositions of Athanasius and Marcellus would lead to a schism between the East and the West when both bishops appealed to Julius of Rome. Eastern bishops gathered in Antioch in 341 to repudiate Arianism, disavow Rome's right to act as a court of appeal, and assert a subordinationist view of the Logos over against the alleged monarchianism implied by the Nicene symbol. The Latin church convened a separate council at Sardica, from which the Greeks withdrew when Athanasius and Marcellus were invited to sit, where they insisted that there is but one hypostasis of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit (ousia and hypostasis were not yet distinct terms).

8. The efforts of Emperor Constantius (Constantine's son) to enforce a non-committal imperial orthodoxy led to the Council of Sirmium's (357) prohibition of terms such as ousia and homoousios, effectively repudiating the Nicene formula. This made room for a revival of "Arianism" in various forms, such as the Homoean party (from homoios, asserting that the Son is "like" the Father), the Anomoeans (who held that the Son was "unlike" the Father), and, lastly, those who insisted that the Son was not only "like" the Father, but "like in respect of substance" (the Homoiousian party).

9. The efforts of Athanasius from 359 to achieve reconciliation between the Homoousian and the Homoiousian parties opened the way to a fresh reappraisal of the Nicene symbol. The pro-Arian policies of Constantius II (and fifth and final exile of Athanasius) further encouraged the budding alliance between the two parties. From this alliance a "new Nicene party" would emerge, eventually finding worthy leadership in Basil of Caesarea (in Cappadocia) and Miletius of Antioch. Basil's brother, Gregory of Nyssa, and friend, Gregory of Nazianzus, would also contribute their theological acumen to the Nicene cause. (These three would come to be known as the Cappadocian Fathers.)

10. Differences between the "old" Nicenes (West) and "new" Nicenes (East) continued to persist for a time, including uncertainty as to the divine status of the Holy Spirit. The differences would be resolved by the Cappadocians' ingenious distinction between the terms ousia and hypostasis in their articulation of the Trinity. The Council of Constantinople in 381 marked the final triumph of Nicene orthodoxy. Intriguingly, while condemning the Pneumatomachi ("Spirit-fighters"), the council did not insist on using homoousios to describe the Holy Spirit's relation to the Father, in deference to the few remaining Homoiousians.

"Reappraisers and Reasserters": A Re-Working of Balthasar's Statement in Light of the Present Struggles of the Anglican Communion

See the earlier entry below for the original quote.
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They are either fanatically "come of age" (the "reappraisers") or fanatically immature (the "reasserters" who clamor for a strict enforcement of confessional standards, as interpreted by them, and seek to move the Communion away from its Canterbury-centeredness toward a federalist scheme). Just as the fanatics (i.e. Puritans) who insisted on a more thoroughgoing reform of the Church of England were condemned, by an iron law of the philosophy of history, to bring about the very opposite of what they intended and thus fall prey to the schizophrenia of dialectics, so today the elements on the fringe of the Anglican Communion, reappraisers and reasserters, are forever metamorphosing into each other, dialectically provoking each other into existence.

"Progressives and Integrists" by Hans Urs von Balthasar

The last sentence is the money statement...
LINK

They are either fanatically "come of age" (the progressives) or fanatically immature (the integralists who clamor for the tangible exercise of papal authority and elevate to the status of dogma things that are not, such as Communion on the tongue and all kinds of apparitions of the Mother of God, etc). Just as the fanatics who insisted on the soli of the Reformation were condemned, by an iron law of the philosophy of history, to bring about the very opposite of what they intended and thus fall prey to the schizophrenia of dialectics, so today the elements on the fringe of Catholicism, progressivism and integralism, are forever metamorphosing into each other, dialectically provoking each other into existence.

Confession is Good for the Soul

Here is my contribution to the Theological Confessions Meme. Biretta tip to Per Caritatem.

I confess that if I were ever given the opportunity to rewind my life and career, and to start over, I would probably enter the Dominican Order. I also confess that when I look at my wife and children, I am grateful that I will never be tempted with that choice.

I confess that I really enjoy having teenage children. I confess that still having a pre-teen in tow makes me feel younger than I am.

I confess that the Catechism of the Catholic Church has been a more formative influence on my life than Cranmer's Book of Common Prayer.

I confess that Karl Barth has irrevocably changed the way I do theology, and that, along with him, Karl Rahner, Henri de Lubac, Paul Tillich, and, lately, Hans Urs von Balthasar, are among my favorite dialogue partners in theology.

I confess that I wish my theological seminary had encouraged me to read modern theology rather than to avoid it.

I confess that those who have hurt me most in life are those who have used the pretense of orthodoxy to secure my trust.

I confess that theological liberals have often been more gracious to me than I have been to them.

I confess that C.S. Lewis, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, John Paul II, and Mother Theresa are among the reasons that I remain a Christian.

I confess that I have given very serious consideration to becoming a Roman Catholic twice in my life.

I confess that Sacred Heart devotion, gawdy statues, St. Christopher medals, scapularies, and other cheap trinkets are among the reasons that I doubt I'll ever become a Roman Catholic.

I confess that the virtues of the 1979 Book of Common Prayer more than make up for its deficiencies.

I confess that George Harrison is my favorite Beatle, that Pink Floyd's Echoes is the perfect musical composition, and that the end of Yes's Gates of Delerium sometimes brings a tear to my eye.

I confess that some of my most profound spiritual experiences occur while listening to Yes's The Revealing Science of God. I also confess that I find more spiritual value in listening to Rush's 2112 CD than in a MegaChurch service.

I confess that Christian fundamentalism leaves me cold.

I confess that I am in the distinct minority among orthodox thinkers in believing that Interfaith Dialogue is not only beneficial, but also necessary.

I confess that I don't exercise nearly enough for my physical health, nor drink nearly enough for my mental health.

I confess that I sometimes resent that, given my choice of career and my own aspirations, I would have gotten much further in life as a woman and/or an ethnic minority.

I confess that Charles Darwin poses the most serious challenge to the faith of many Christians, mainly because he was correct.

I confess that my disenchantment with Intelligent Design theory rests entirely on my commitment to Theism.

I confess that I am convinced that life exists in other places in our universe, perhaps even in our own solar system, and that the eventual discovery of non-terrestrial life will inspire the most serious re-think of Christian theology since Copernicus. I confess every intention of staying ahead of the curve on this one.

I confess that local orthodoxies (i.e., confessions of faith), while serving a certain usefulness, often become "household idols" that stifle theological inquiry, stall ecumenical progress, and stunt the faith of many. I also confess that I am often impatient with Anglicans who revere the 39 Articles as such.

Why the Articles Must be Interpreted in Light of the Creeds, and Not the Creeds in Light of the Articles: Article I

ARTICLE I: There is but one living and true God, everlasting, without body, parts, or passions; of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness; the Maker, and Preserver of all things both visible and invisible. And in unity of this Godhead there be three Persons, of one substance, power, and eternity; the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

The shortcoming of this article is that it does not follow the creedal pattern. It starts out correctly: “There is but one living and true God...” but it should continue thus, “...the Father almighty,” as do the catholic creeds. Article I thus falls short of a truly catholic (ecumenical) articulation, as many western articulations do. This is not to say that the article is incapable of supporting an orthodox reading, only that it is capable of supporting an unorthodox one, which constitutes its major flaw.

As it stands, Article I could be read to imply that there is a “Godhead” or “God-stuff” or some supra-personal “God” that is above the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, who are subsumed within or beneath It (or Him). Yet the universal creeds (Apostles, Nicene) teach that the Father, not the "Godhead" (however that is understood), is the ground and hypostasis of unity. Thus the unity of the Godhead is grounded in the Father's monarchy: the Son and the Spirit derive from Him, for the Father is the source of their essence. This is the faith of the Church Catholic.

My Mugshot

Y'all can check out my mugshot at my parish's website, where I will be serving out my diaconate until my ordination to the priesthood in six months. My diocese considers my place of work, (the seminary), as my official placement.

Namárië

Not exactly breaking news...but for those readers who may not have heard, Fr. Al Kimel of Pontifications is now retiring from the blogosphere. Read his departing entry here.

Here is an excerpt:

Becoming Catholic has brought many blessings, but it has not healed the sorrows of my heart. Indeed, in some ways it has intensified these sorrows. But this is all very private. All I need say is that I often find them overwhelming. God is silent. I am reduced to silence.

I think many of us can relate to this on some level. I know that I can. Fr. Al, you will be missed.

Praying Saint Patrick's Breastplate with Anglican Prayer Beads

The Cross:
I bind unto myself today the strong Name of the Trinity, by invocation of the same, the Three in One, and One in Three. Of whom all nature hath creation, eternal Father, Spirit, Word: praise to the Lord of my salvation, salvation is of Christ the Lord.

The Invitatory:
Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me. Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

The Cruciforms:
I bind unto myself today
the strong Name of the Trinity,
by invocation of the same,
the Three in One, and One in Three.

The Weeks:
1. I bind this day to me for ever, by power of faith, Christ’s Incarnation;
2. his baptism in Jordan river;
3. his death on cross for my salvation;
4. his bursting from the spicèd tomb;
5. his riding up the heavenly way;
6. his coming at the day of doom:
7. I bind unto myself today.

1. I bind unto myself the power of the great love of cherubim;
2. the sweet "Well done" in judgment hour;
3. the service of the seraphim;
4. confessors’ faith, apostles’ word,
5. the patriarchs’ prayers, the prophets’ scrolls;
6. all good deeds done unto the Lord,
7. and purity of virgin souls.

1. I bind unto myself today the virtues of the starlit heaven,
2. the glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
3. the whiteness of the moon at even,
4. the flashing of the lightning free,
5. the whirling of the wind’s tempestuous shocks,
6. the stable earth, the deep salt sea,
7. around the old eternal rocks.

1. I bind unto myself today the power of God to hold and lead,
2. his eye to watch, his might to stay,
3. his ear to hearken, to my need;
4. the wisdom of my God to teach,
5. his hand to guide, his shield to ward;
6. the word of God to give me speech,
7. his heavenly host to be my guard.

The Closing Prayers:

Invitatory Bead:
The Lord’s Prayer

The Cross:
I bless the Lord.

Or, in a group setting:
Let us bless the Lord
Thanks be to God.

Anglican Prayer Beads: A Form of Contemplative Prayer

From the King of Peace website.

Anglican Prayer Beads are a relatively new form of prayer, blending the Orthodox Jesus Prayer Rope and the Roman Catholic Rosary. The thirty-three bead design was created by the Rev. Lynn Bauman in the mid-1980s, through the prayerful exploration and discovery of a contemplative prayer group.

The use of the rosary or prayer beads helps to bring us into contemplative of meditative prayer—really thinking about and being mindful of praying, of being in the presence of God—by use of mind, body, and spirit. The touching of the fingers on each successive bead is an aid in keeping our mind from wandering, and the rhythm of the prayers leads us more readily into stillness.

Symbolism of the Beads

The configuration of the Anglican Prayer Beads relate contemplative prayer using the Rosary to many levels of traditional Christian symbolism. Contemplative prayer is enriched by these symbols whose purpose is always to focus and concentrate attention, allowing the one who prays to move more swiftly into the Presence of God.
The prayer beads are made up of twenty-eight beads divided into four groups of seven called weeks. In the Judeo-Christian tradition the number seven represents spiritual perfection and completion. Between each week is a single bead, called a cruciform bead as the four beads form a cross. The invitatory bead between the cross and the wheel of beads brings the total to thirty-three, the number of years in Jesus’ earthly life.

Praying with the beads

To begin, hold the Cross and say the prayer you have assigned to it, then move to the Invitatory Bead. Then enter the circle of the prayer with the first Cruciform Bead, moving to the right, go through the first set of seven beads to the next Cruciform bead, continuing around the circle, saying the prayers for each bead.

It is suggested that you pray around the circle of the beads three times (which signifies the Trinity) in an unhurried pace, allowing the repetition to become a sort of lullaby of love and praise that enables your mind to rest and your heart to become quiet and still.

Praying through the beads three times and adding the crucifix at the beginning or the end, brings the total to one hundred, which is the total of the Orthodox Rosary. A period of silence should follow the prayer, for a time of reflection and listening. Listening is an important part of all prayer.

Begin praying the Anglican Prayer Beads by selecting the prayers you wish to use for the cross and each bead. Practice them until it is clear which prayer goes with which bead, and as far as possible commit the prayers to memory.

Find a quiet spot and allow your body and mind to become restful and still. After a time of silence, begin praying the prayer beads at an unhurried, intentional pace. Complete the circle of the beads three times.

When you have completed the round of the prayer beads, you should end with a period of silence. This silence allows you to center your being in an extended period of silence. It also invites reflection and listening after you have invoked the Name and Presence of God.

Science and Eastern Orthodoxy

LINK

LIGHT FROM THE EAST: Theology, Science and the Eastern Orthodox Tradition
by Alexei V. Nesteruk
Fortress Press (2003)

In the non-Orthodox world, a lively dialogue between science and theology has been taking place for decades. Among Orthodox, however, the theological response to modern scientific theory has hitherto been extremely muted. It has therefore been with great anticipation that they have awaited the study by Alexei Nesteruk which has now been published. For Nesteruk, as well as being a member of the Orthodox Church, is also a researcher at the University of Portsmouth, and, as such, he is someone who can speak of the scientific enterprise from within.

As a mathematical physicist, Nesteruk has clearly decided to stick to those aspects of science that he knows well. Some might regard this as a pity, since it leads him to ignore almost entirely the theological questions arising from some of the aspects of modern scientific theory that Christians tend to find the most disturbing, such as neo-Darwinism. This is, however, less of a problem that might appear at first sight, since Nesteruk’s approach is far more subtle than that of those Western theologians, who – through a methodology of beginning with questions about the perceived dissonance of science and theology – often by-pass important and necessary questions about the nature of the two disciplines.

His fundamental thesis is, in fact, not that theology and science can be interpreted in terms of some surfacelevel consonance, but rather that both can be “reinstated to their proper relationship to the Eucharist,understood in cosmic terms as the offering of creation back to God through art, science, and technology.” In this context, he goes on, scientific activity can be treated as a cosmic eucharistic work (a “cosmic liturgy”). Science can thus be seen as a mode of religious experience, a view obvious to those scientists who participate in ecclesial communities, but as yet undemonstrated to those outside such communities, (p.2).

To illustrate this view, Nesteruk provides, in the second half of the book, a number of extremely interesting but scientifically complex arguments. This scientifically informed argument is, however, based on a more general attempt, in the first half of the book, to develop a patristically-oriented rationale for seeing the sciences as an important aspect of our contemplation of divine realities. To expand on this he provides an extremely thought-provoking analysis of the patristic use of apophatic and cataphatic language in relation to God. He links this way of using theological language to the way in which God must be seen as immanent in the cosmos and yet as utterly transcending it. Like many Orthodox commentators, he sees the witness of St. Maximus the Confessor – especially in relation to the concept of the logoi of created things having their origin in the Logos himself – as central to the development of a contemporary understanding.

A recognition of the importance of this book does not, of course, imply that it is beyond reproach. Being both ambitious and complex, it inevitably has many features that raise critical questions. Some, for example, may wonder whether the concept of hypostasis can really carry the weight that Nesteruk makes it bear. Others,perhaps, will wonder whether a modern Orthodox theology really requires a utilizing of neo-Platonic categories of the sort that is attempted here (and, even if it does, whether modern cosmology can be used to underpin this usage in the way Nesteruk suggests). Perhaps more important than any of these questions, however, is one that arises from the way in which Nesteruk has – as he candidly admits – “been deeply influenced by the ideas of [the Presbyterian theologian] Thomas Torrance” (p. 2). These ideas are, admittedly, themselves deeply influenced by patristic (and especially Alexandrian) perspectives. They are also, however, rooted in important strands of continental Protestant (‘neoorthodox’) theology, and it is far from clear that Nesteruk has taken this adequately into account.

To recognize that such questions are posed by Nesteruk’s approach is not, however, to diminish the importance of what he has done. On the contrary, it bears witness to it. For, by setting off trains of thought of this kind, Nesteruk has surely done an invaluable service, both to his fellow Orthodox – who can now begin to see the sciences in a new and positive light – and to non-Orthodox, who can now see a way in which their own ongoing dialogue of science and theology can be expanded and deepened by Orthodox perspectives.

Nesteruk himself is modest enough to recognize (p. 12) that his efforts represent no more than “first steps ... with no pretensions to completing the enormous task” that lies ahead. It is, however, the first steps in any journey that are the most important, and for this particular journey Nesteruk has arguably not only pointed us in the right direction, but also provided us with many of the vehicles that we shall need as we progress. Our long term judgements of some of his specific arguments may, perhaps, turn out to be negative ones. Even if this is so, however, this will not prevent him from being remembered, in the history of the Orthodox Church, as the pioneer of a new frontier that had for too long remained unexplored. As the first clear expositor of the view that science is a cosmic eucharistic work and a mode of religious experience, he has begun a phase of Orthodox theological reflection which may have truly momentous consequences.

Christopher C. Knight
Condensed from SOUROZH:
A Journal of Orthodox Life and Thought, 2003, N 94, pp.45-49
Also reviewed in ESSSAT News, 13.4

The Master Stroke of Quantum Indeterminacy

To be sure, there is nothing about quantum indeterminacy at the base of our existence that proves it was the work of God. Or of a design to the universe clearly put there by an intelligent force to accommodate living things. However, if there is a God, consider what a master stroke quantum indeterminacy was. To create an orderly material world that didn't require constant intervention, the Creater had to make things obey defined laws. But if those laws were to run all the way down to the building blocks of matter, they would also have denied free will. They would have made it possible for His creatures (eventually) to figure out that all past events and all future ones could be inferred from a single reading of the state of the physical world at any given time.

Remarkably, what quantum indeterminacy does is to deny us the possibility of that ever happening. We cannot uncritically extrapolate the details of the present backwards to learn the past; and the future is what we make of it. Were this not the case, the future would be what our particles make of us. Instead, we are inextricably locked into the present, with our thoughts, words, and deeds helping to construct the future, a future that remains open to our own choices, to a world of possibilities.

Once He had fixed the physical nature of our universe, once He had ensured that the constants of nature would create a chemistry and physics that allowed for life, God would then have gone about the process of producing the creatures that would share this new world with him. He could have created anything He wanted, of course, by any means He cared to use. But He had already decided that the living world would be physically independent of direct divine intervention, and that life would find its support in the physics and chemistry that He was careful to create.

--Kenneth Miller, Finding Darwin's God, pp. 251-2.

One week away from the "Midas touch"

Just an update on my status, for those who may not be "in the know": I will be ordained to the diaconate by Bishop Don Wimberly of the Diocese of Texas next Saturday, June 23, 2007 at 10:00 a.m. This will take place at Christ Church Cathedral in downtown Houston. I will, however, continue in my present position as Dean of the Faculty at an ecumenical seminary.

Do Positions on Evolution Really Matter in 2008?

Believing in evolution and God is fence-sitting??
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Do Positions on Evolution Really Matter in 2008 Race?
By DeWayne Wickham

During a televised debate among GOP presidential candidates last month in California, Sen. John McCain of Arizona was asked whether he believes in evolution. McCain first answered with one word: "Yes." Then he quickly added: "I believe in evolution. But I also believe, when I hike the Grand Canyon and see it at sunset, that the hand of God is there also."

That bit of fence walking might remind some people of what comedian W.C. Fields, a life-long atheist, said when he was discovered reading a Bible shortly before his death. When a friend asked incredulously what he was doing, Fields responded: "Looking for loopholes."

But a recent USA TODAY/Gallup Poll suggests McCain's attempt to have it both ways is not an uncommon view. One-quarter of Americans think evolution, a scientific theory on the origins of life, and creationism, the biblical description of how life began, are both likely explanations. But in the world of politics, reality is too often shaped by what it takes to win over the relatively small number of voters who take part in a political party's selection process — not the thinking of a wider group of people.

Whatever the reason, three of the GOP presidential wannabes standing with McCain that day gave a much different answer. Former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee, Sen. Sam Brownback of Kansas and Rep. Tom Tancredo of Colorado answered with a show of hands when a reporter asked, "Is there anybody on the stage that does not agree, believe in evolution?"
This month, during a GOP debate in New Hampshire, Huckabee was asked about his rejection of evolution. "To me, it's pretty simple," the Baptist minister answered. "A person either believes that God created this process or believes that it was an accident and that it just happened all on its own."

In politics, few things are described so simply. But for many members of the religious right — an influential bloc in the GOP's presidential candidate selection process — answers to questions of faith have no middle ground. This is especially so in the long-running debate over the beginning of life.

Faced with such intransigence in 1925 on the eve of the trial of John Scopes — a man charged with violating a Tennessee law that prohibited teaching evolution — H.L. Mencken, a columnist for Baltimore's The Sun, wrote, "Enlightenment, among mankind, is very narrowly dispersed." Mencken would be surprised to know that when it comes to debate over the origins of life, enlightenment is now in greater supply.

Many Americans think the theories of divine creation and evolution can coexist. And why not accept the Bible's story of God's creation of life as a metaphor, and the evolutionist's version of how life started as a more detailed account of the same event? Isn't it possible the "Big Bang" theory of the universe's beginning is just science's explanation of what happened when God said, "Let there be light?" Why worry about where presidential candidates of either party stand on this issue?

At one point in the New Hampshire debate, Huckabee bristled at being asked about his position on the origins of life. "I'm not planning on writing the curriculum for an eighth-grade science book. I'm asking for the opportunity to be president of the United States," he said.

But with that job comes significant influence over public education, as we have seen with the Bush administration's imposition of teaching standards. The Oval Office job also plays a role in defining the nation's response to harmful atmospheric changes that many scientists say are man-made, and in determining government's response to calls for expanded stem cell research, which could alter lives afflicted with disease.

Putting a religious absolutist in the White House might sharply reduce the role of science in our national life — and distance the next president from the thinking of a lot of Americans.

DeWayne Wickham writes on Tuesdays for USA TODAY.

NEWS FLASH: "Fed-cons" unite in resolve to scupper Cantuar

Well, folks, Matt Kennedy and Stephen Noll are finally on the same page. Actually, truth be told, they always were, but there was this little issue of the upcoming Lambeth Conference to resolve between these two "fed-cons." For details, catch the latest over at Stand Firm.

Someone, somewhere along the way, coined the terms "federal conservative" and "communion conservative" to describe the differences between two rather nuanced and (up to now) ambiguous, i.e., hard-to-define, positions within what Kendall Harmon dubbed the "re-asserting" camp.

However, what divides so-called "conservatives" (I hate that term too) has never been so clear as it is today. The issue is CONCILIARISM, and we can thank Ephraim Radner and the ACI for articulating this difference beyond any question (See Dr. Radner's excellent article below).

"Fed-con" and "Com-con" are messy, imprecise, and outmoded designations. They should be put to rest. The real division is between non-conciliarists and conciliarists. Obviously, Noll and Kennedy are non-conciliarists, and Radner, Seitz, et al. are conciliarists. It should be obvious where Catholic in the Third Millennium stands.

Let's call 'em what they are.

A MUST READ: Ephraim Radner's "Lambeth Can Be What It Wants to Be"

Read the entire article at the Anglican Communion Institute website. Here's the Link

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The charismatic character of conciliar authority

In light of all this, I would emphasize that the real basis for the authoritative nature of the Church’s conciliar vocation is not, therefore, the entity of a “council” in itself. Councils are not Scripture. Councils themselves are not the Holy Spirit. Councils guarantee nothing. Just because one has a council – local or wider – does not mean that what it decides has any authority in Christian terms. Rather, the basis for the authoritative nature of the Church’s conciliar vocation lies in the faithful perseverance of its members in common over time, that is, in their willingness to live the Christian life together “for the Lord” and “in the Lord”. Since the authority of councils derive from their place in a historical series, it is grasped only retrospectively, and it is possible to do this only because one has carried through with the conciliar life together long enough and through a perseverant life of faithfulness on such a path that the truth is apprehended together. A synod may indeed come to a decision that is “true” in the sense of conforming to and displaying the truth of Scripture, but that council may never gain “authority” in the Church because it never took place within the extended conciliar life of the Church in such a way that its truth was apprehended.

The place where the Holy Spirit “authorizes” a council, therefore, is not first in the abstract nature of its decisions nor even in the juridically-defined and defining shape of a given gathering. It is in the ongoing Christian life of those making decisions and receiving them. Councils are authoritative when they are perceived, that is, as being “holy”, enacted by holy people and received by holy people, conformed to the Scriptural shape of God’s will. True councils are “charismatic”, in the qualification used by Orthodox theologians. Councils are authoritative, not only when they speak the “truth” (this is not a sufficient condition for conciliar authority), but when they are filled with and give rise to the gifts and fruit of the Spirit – faith, generosity, and so on, and “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Rom. 12:6ff.; Gal. 5:22f.). This should not be a surprise, Scripturally speaking: for it is the “gathering in my Name (cf. Mt. 18:20), in its rich and profound sense of the Spirit’s common life, that is promised the presence of Jesus. The Church “over time”, and hence as a truly conciliar reality, exists as Christ’s Body only as she embodies the Holy Spirit’s gifts and fruit in this sense that allows her to gather at all (1 Cor. 12).

The necessary and essential link between council and Holy Spirit, understood in the sense above, underscores a paradoxical reality: the Church’s councils need not be wholly “pure” in their make-up to be valid and authoritative. Rather they require only that some of their members be holy and, more importantly, that such holiness persist in the midst of the Church’s errors and sin. For the Spirit is “sent”; the Spirit does not constitute. The Spirit inhabits; the Spirit does not embody. This is the model of the apostolic church of Jesus, at the Last Supper and Passion: the holiness of the Church – and her councils – is given in the means by which her saints demonstrate the Spirit’s fruit within the Church’s fallenness, by the exercise of truthful witness, mercy and charity with and among her corrupted members, as Jesus did not only towards his persecutors, but towards his own followers who would and who did eventually abandon Him.

In light of this discussion, we can answer a number of questions currently being raised about attendance at the Lambeth Conference of Anglican bishops. We can do so by observing the character of the Church’s first great councils – e.g. Nicea and Constantinople – and seeing how in fact they conform to the outline of conciliar life suggested above, and how they clarify current concerns. Although these two councils represent something “new”, from the perspective of history, they were not in fact “primordial”. They emerged from and took their place within an existing and long line of previous councils, some of considerable significance and weight. As “councils”, they are “general”, not de novo.

Does one sit in council with those with whom one is out of communion?

Nicea answered this question affirmatively: present were not only the Novationist schismatic bishop Acesius, but also Arians (including Arius himself!) who had previously and formally broken with bishops of the (finally decided) “orthodox” party. One does not need to share the Eucharist with another Christian in order for the counsel of the Holy Spirit to be authoritatively pursued among them.

In the midst of disputes within the Church, including ones that cut deeply and that burden us today, this reality (more fully demonstrated below) cuts in all kinds of directions.

Does one sit in council with heretics?

Invited to Nicea, as we know, were Arius and his friends and supporters (e.g. Eusebius of Nicomedia, who ended up causing so much trouble for the orthodox after Nicea, despite signing on to the final agreement).

The first Council of Constantinople, over 50 years after Nicea, had to revisit with much anguish and conflict the very matters already decided at Nicea. This means that the later council, by definition, was one engaged with known “heretics”, established as such by a previous council. Yet that did not prevent the council’s gathering and its engagement of orthodox and heretic together.

Does one sit in council with the excommunicated?

As the previous question and response show, “heresy” can already be conciliarly defined and still be engaged subsequently on a personal level at another council. Hence, Arius, along with at least two African bishops, Secondus and Theonus, had been formally condemned and excommunicated by a formal Alexandrian synod, some time before Nicea convened. Yet Bp. Alexander (and Athanasius, his then-secretary) met with them at Nicea. Both Nicea and Constantinople gathered bishops who had, at various times, been excommunicated and even exiled by opposing parties.

One of the questions to be asked in the context of the above is, “does not counsel with heretics and the excommunicated threaten the corruption of the council itself and of the church subsequently?”. This question has been posed within the Anglican Communion currently in terms of TEC being a liberal “heresy” similar to a “gangrene” or “cancer” whose presence cannot be tolerated in council for fear of contamination. Clearly this was not the view of those participating in the first councils of the Church, including the first two Ecumenical Councils. It was not so because the nature of Christian conciliarity, as we have explained, is founded on the power of the Holy Spirit within the lives of those taking council, not uniformly, but simply really – just as Jesus’ authority in the Church is based on His own pneumatic life, not on His members’ uniformly.

Certainly, there are a variety of responses given in the New Testament church to heresy or immorality within the Christian community. In all cases where possible, discipline is exercised. But discipline within the New Testament is not uniform – as Paul’s experience with the “false apostles” at Corinth makes clear – and is often set aside in favor of the “power” of the Spirit’s “demonstration” in the lives of the Church’s saints, regardless of the failures of others around them. Indeed, the one text in the New Testament regarding “gangrene” (2 Tim. 2:17) is not about complete disengagement with heretics, but about the proper kind of engagement, based not on drawn out controversy but on a particular kind of charismatic posture and example as a teacher (2 Tim. 2:24ff.) that leads the erring person to “repentance”.

The point here is that a council may choose to invite or not, on the basis of discipline or not – none of this validates or invalidates a council. These are prudential decisions, not matters of faith (see below).

Does one sit at council with those who have betrayed previous councils?

Following Nicea, an entire array of Arians and related “heretics” continued to agitate and in fact often “triumph” ecclesially through episcopal establishement and numerous new councils, both local and wider. Many, although not all, of these subsequent councils were attended by “orthodox”, who knowingly came to gatherings in which they were outnumbered, deceived, and mistreated. Their attendance, where possible, was based on the courage, calm, and faith granted them by the Holy Spirit, not on juridical realities. Such councils were often later judged to be invalid; but not because of their initial gathering, but rather because of their fruit. I personally believe it to be the case that, at certain point, if one can no longer trust the word of certain members of the Church, their presence at the Church’s councils do indeed become problematic. But again, to what degree is a prudential decision, not one based on principle.

Does non-invitation of potentially worthy attendees invalidate a council?

The Bishop of Rome was never invited to (nor did he or his formal representative attend) the Council of Constantinople (and he was, at the time, out of communion with the Council’s president, Melitius, as well as with others present). Yet, in time – and not a long time either – the Council of Constantinople was recognized by the Pope as a valid “ecumenical” council, despite not even having a formal papal representative present.The conclusion here, to restate a point made before and well-grounded in conciliar theology, is that councils are authoritative in their historical reception, not in their immediate form. The form, however, points to the character of the council in an initial way, and eventually reveals that inner character over time: one comes to council, and God does His work.

--The rest of the article.

Gerald Bray on Augustine's Conception of the Spirit as Love

The link between the Trinity and human salvation is clearer in Augustine than in any other ancient writer, and it has indelibly marked the entire Western tradition. The belief that God is love is now such a commonplace that we seldom realize what a new and powerful idea it was to Augustine. Unfortunately though, Augustine formulated his belief in a way which leaves it open to serious question. As he understood it, the essence of God was both spirit and love. Despite serious hesitation, Augustine eventually argued himself into believing that spirit and love were the same thing, with the result that the Holy Spirit must also be the personification of holy love.

The basis for this equation come from a comparison of John 4:24 ('God is spirit') with 1 John 4:16 ('God is love'). Today we would say that the word 'spirit' refers primarily to the nature of God, whereas love is the way in which God functions. To tie the two together as Augustine eventually did is to unite essence and function in a way which distorts the biblical data. This conjunction later became a standard feature of Western theology, which to this day likes to claim that pure being is the same as pure act. During the centuries when the emphasis was ontological, however, love tended to become a remote abstraction. Now that the emphasis has shifted to the functional, the opposite tendency has asserted itself, and love tends to be regarded mainly as a subjective feeling, which is then somehow identified with the very being of God.

In fairness to Augustine, it must be said that he himself never went anything like as far as that. He did not regard 'Spirit' as the personal name of the third person of the Trinity, but only as a designation of the divine nature. As such, the word could and did refer equally to the Father and the Son. On the other hand, Augustine toyed with this question of finding the personal name of the Holy Spirit, but never really came up with a satisfactory answer. At one point he suggested that it might be 'gift' (donum), although that is hardly a personal name in the sense that we would understand it. Later on, he put forward the view that the Spirit's personal name was Holy. this was slightly better than 'gift', but it suffered from the fact that, like Spirit, it was a term which could be applied to the other persons of the Trinity as well.

Augustine's difficulty here is symptomatic of his whole approach, which locates the unity of the Father and the Son in the person of the Holy Spirit. But because the unity of God is expressed at the level of nature, there is an inescapable tendency to think of the Holy Spirit as a personification of the impersonal qualities which constitute the being of God. Admittedly, this tendency is helped to some extent by the impersonal name which is given to the third person, even in the Scriptures, although of course he is also called Comforter (Paraclete). Augustine was aware of this, but neither he nor his successors made much of it when discussing the names of the Trinity in their writings.

--Gerald Bray, The Doctrine of God (Intervarsity, 1993), pp. 171-2.

Latest from the Anglican Communion Institute

The whole article is well worth reading. What follows below is the conclusion. Here's the LINK.

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Given the fact that the Primates have been assigned "enhanced responsibility" by the Lambeth Conference itself, and given the fact that no one with the authority to do so has withdrawn their proposal to address the threat of fracture our Communion now faces, and given the fact that the claim made that these proposals do not accord with the Constitution and Canons of TEC remains no more than an unsupported assertion, we ask four questions:

1. The Primates still have warrant to make their appointments to the Pastoral Council. Why have they not done so?

2. The Archbishop of Canterbury still has the authority to make his appointment to the PastoralCouncil. Why has he not done so?

3. The Presiding Bishop of TEC still has authority to make her appointment to the Pastoral Council. Why has she not done so?

4. The Windsor Bishops still have warrant to make their nominations for Primatial Vicar. Why have they not done so?

We believe that the credibility of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Meeting of the Primates, the Presiding Bishop of TEC, and the Windsor Bishops depends upon a speedy answer to these four questions. Some may think us naïve for continuing to think these instruments of unity still have credibility. We have, however, considered the alternatives-all of which portend the end of Anglicanism as a communion of churches. We pray, therefore, that those in whose hands Providence has placed responsibility for the peace, faithfulness, and unity of the church will respond publicly and speedily to these questions that rest so heavily upon the minds and hearts of all who care about the future of the Anglican Communion.

Christopher Seitz
Philip Turner
Ephraim Radner

Officers of the Anglican Communion Network

A Blast from the Past: What did Augustine and Arius have in common?

--Originally posted on June 26, 2006. I'm reposting this in view of Trinity Sunday.

Answer: Both Arius and Augustine defined deity in terms of divine causality, thus understanding causality to be the essential attribute of deity rather than the hypostatic (i.e. personal) feature of the Father's monarchy.

In this confusion of Person, nature and attribute, Arius went on to assert that only the Father was truly God, for the Logos was begotten of the Father. Thus Christ could not be fully divine in that he was "caused by," and in no way the "cause of," the Father. Divine causality and essential deity are inextricably mixed.

In his argument against the later heresy of semi-Arianism, Augustine conceded this point, but went on to employ it in favor of the essential deity of Christ by positing the filioque doctrine. Thus Augustine saw the Son as the "cause," along with the Father, of another divine Person: the Holy Spirit. "For if the Son has of the Father whatever He has, then certainly He has of the Father that the Holy Spirit proceeds also from Him" (De Trinitate 15:26:47). In other words, the Son receives divine causality from the Father and thus is fully divine, for the Holy Spirit proceeds from both.

At this point the inconsistency in Augustine's view of the Trinity becomes apparent, for where does this leave the Holy Spirit? If the Holy Spirit is a fully divine hypostasis then wherein is manifested the attribute of causality?

From the Telegraph: Church Call on Intelligent Design

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/06/02/ndarwin02.xml

By Graeme Paton

The Church of England yesterday suggested that schools should teach the controversial theory of intelligent design in science lessons.

The Rev Jan Ainsworth, the Church's head of education, said that the belief - that man was created by an intelligent being, such as God - should have a place in the national curriculum.
The comments come despite warnings from academics that intelligent design and creationism are "anti-science" and a veiled attempt to smuggle fundamentalist Christianity into teaching.
It also places Mrs Ainsworth on collision course with the Archbishop of Canterbury and Government ministers, who have told schools to keep strict Biblical interpretations of life out of school science lessons.

Speaking at a seminar on faith schools, Mrs Ainsworth, who is responsible for almost 5,000 primary and secondary schools, said: "While it is not something I would subscribe to, it is a recognition that there are different ways of looking at the evidence."

Intelligent design is often seen as a more "acceptable" version of creationism, the strict Biblical theory that God created the world in six days 6,000 years ago.

Its proponents argue that life on Earth is too complex to have evolved on its own, suggesting that there was a hidden hand behind the creation of man.

Over at Stand Firm: Hospitality and Heretics

Stand Firm's Matt Kennedy recently wrote an article of interest entitled, Hospitality and Heretics: The Necessity of Discipline in the Anglican Communion. The article itself is what I've come to expect from Matt: a well-written, impassioned argument for the federal conservative view. But the comment section reveals the essential flaw in the fed con view, and why a presumed Communion set up in the fashion that fed cons envision will never work.

In the providence of God, the Church used councils to deliberate controversial matters, and, yes, actually to DEFINE dogma, not merely to reiterate scriptural teaching, as Matt seems to be saying in his remarks (one commenter does a good job challenging Matt on this point). Conciliarism as a process for discerning what the Spirit is saying to the churches is often messy, political, and (in the ancient world) has even been violent. And in the aftermath of a council (i.e. the period of reception for a council's teaching), things could even be worse. As unholy as it sounds, like or not, orthodoxy triumphs by virtue of being the "last man standing" after a conflict has subsided.

The Anglican Communion is a very young community of churches, ever inching their way to a conciliar model of community life and discipline. We are not there yet, and the present struggle is by no means the first or last challenge that will threaten its very existence.

In short, I think Matt should have started with Acts 15 rather than with Matthew 18.

Prayer for the Departed

Why does the Church pray for the departed? Simple: because they, like us (or, better, along with us), have not yet experienced the full redemption of their beings, which will take place at the resurrection. The Church on earth, entrusted with the care of souls of all the faithful, pleads the mercies of God in solidarity with all of its members, both living and dead. This implies nothing at all about the "state" of the dead before the resurrection apart from the acknowledgement that BEFORE the resurrection neither they nor us have reached the goal, and reaching that goal depends completely and utterly on the mercy and grace of God.

Non-specificity characterizes the Church's prayers for the departed; that is, the Church does not pray for temporally-bound "needs." Rather, the Church prays for the departed within the general intercessions for the whole Church, that they, along with us, may share with all God's saints in his eternal kingdom. Someone might ask, what profit lies in such prayers for the departed? But one might just as well ask, what profit lies in such prayers for those of us who still live here on earth? One will find the same answer for both questions.

Darwin's Pope?

Darwin's Pope?"
by Kenneth R. Miller

"Intelligent design," the notion that living things are too complex to have been produced by evolution, has gotten a cold shoulder in the scientific community. Not so in the popular imagination, where its advocates have convinced much of the public and even an Austrian cardinal that it deserves a place alongside Darwin in science classrooms.

The public-relations successes of what's being widely called "ID" reflect the skillful way in which its proponents have framed the debate to place God and Darwin in direct opposition. As Phillip Johnson, the movement's most respected leader, has candidly described it, the principal strategy followed by the "design" movement "is to convince people that Darwinism is inherently atheistic, thus shifting the debate from creationism vs. evolution to the existence of God vs. the non-existence of God." That, the ID folks are convinced, is a winning argument, at least in the United States.

Unfortunately for ID, for years there has been a dramatic, highly visible, well-known contradiction to this claim—the Roman Catholic Church's acceptance of evolution as being entirely consistent with Christian teachings. From Pius XII's first cautious but positive words in 1950, in Humani Generis, to John Paul II's recognition that evolution was now "more than just a hypothesis" and was supported by "discoveries in various fields of knowledge," in a 1996 address, the Church has made it clear that the scientific conclusions of evolution need not contradict the core teachings of the Christian faith. Indeed, reflecting on the broad scientific support for Darwin's theory, John Paul II stated flatly that "truth cannot contradict truth." The "truths" he had in mind were the empirical scientific truth of evolution and the eternal truths of faith. Powerful stuff.

Why, then, did Benedict XVI, on the day of his coronation, preach a homily saying: "We are not some casual and meaningless product of evolution. Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary." And echoing Benedict's words, on July 7, 2005, Christoph Cardinal Schönborn wrote in The New York Times that "neo-Darwinian" theory is not "compatible with Christian faith." Incredibly, his essay bore the provocative headline "Finding Design in Nature."

In the United States, those words caused hearts to leap in the breasts of the anti-evolution movement. To hear the ID folks tell it, it's just a matter of time before the new pope places the influence of the Catholic Church squarely into the fight against godless Darwinism. A few have even suggested that Benedict will invite the champions of ID to the Vatican for a private audience.

While no one should be foolish enough to state categorically what the Holy Father will or will not decide on any issue, I'd urge the ID crowd to wait a while before booking those first-class tickets to Rome.

Although Benedict is widely viewed as a theological conservative, with respect to science, his conservatism fits squarely into the mold of Augustine and Aquinas, and follows the long Catholic tradition of respect for scientific rationalism that shaped John Paul II's 1996 endorsement of evolution.

So, what are we to make of his assertions that we are not the "casual and meaningless products" of evolution? We can start with Benedict's own writings, and in particular, I'd point to his book In the Beginning: A Catholic Understanding of the Story of Creation and the Fall.
After describing the scientific elements of neo-Darwinian theory, then-Cardinal Ratzinger asked: "What response shall we make to this view [evolution]? It is the affair of the natural sciences to explain how the tree of life in particular continues to grow and how new branches shoot out from it. This is not a matter for faith. But we must have the audacity to say that the great projects of the living creation are not the products of chance and error."

Ratzinger, like John Paul II and Puis XII before him, is not at all concerned about the emerging evolutionary account of humankind's material origins. As he makes clear, "this is not a matter for faith." However, he draws the line at any suggestion that we are the mere products of "chance and error," and the reason is the Christian teaching that humanity is not here by accident, but as the intentional result of a Divine plan. As he explains later, the point is: "Human beings are not a mistake, but something willed; they are the fruit of love."

Does this rule out evolution, with its emphasis on chance and necessity, and leave room only for the intentionality of "design"? Cardinal Schönborn certainly seems to think so. But to find the true answer, we need only to look at "Communion and Stewardship," a 2004 Curia document produced under Ratzinger's watch by the International Theological Commission. Paragraph 63 of this document carries a ringing endorsement of the "widely accepted scientific account" of life's emergence and evolution, describes the descent of all forms of life from a common ancestor as "virtually certain," and echoes John Paul II's observation of the "mounting support" for evolution from many fields of study. But just like Ratzinger, it draws the line at any theory of evolution that might "deny to divine providence any truly causal role in the development of life."
I don't doubt for a second that the advocates of ID would be tempted to pencil in their "designer" for the "causal role" that the document reserves for God. But that would be a great mistake, as the document points out a few paragraphs later. Specifically addressing the arguments made to support ID, the commission writes that the argument between ID and evolution concerns "whether the available data support inferences of design or chance, and cannot be settled by theology. But it is important to note that, according to the Catholic understanding of divine causality, true contingency in the created order is not incompatible with a purposeful divine providence. Divine causality and created causality radically differ in kind and not only in degree. Thus, even the outcome of a truly contingent natural process can nonetheless fall within God's providential plan for creation."

As the late Stephen Jay Gould was fond of pointing out, evolution is indeed a truly contingent natural process. To a nonbeliever like Gould, the inherent unpredictability of a contingent process was proof that the result of the process could not be the handiwork of a gracious God. But Gould, like many in science, seriously underestimated the philosophical depth of religious thought. As Aquinas wrote: "The effect of divine providence is not only that things should happen somehow, but that they should happen either by necessity or by contingency. Therefore, whatsoever divine providence ordains to happen infallibly and of necessity happens infallibly and of necessity; and that happens from contingency, which the divine providence conceives to happen from contingency."

The key insight, which sits at the very heart of Benedict's thoughts on the matter, is that "neo-Darwinians who adduce random genetic variation and natural selection as evidence that the process of evolution is absolutely unguided are straying beyond what can be demonstrated by science."

Precisely. The point of the pope's homily was not to take issue with evolution itself, but with the philosophical view that humans are nothing more than the casual and meaningless products of that process. Schönborn's ill-considered op-ed made the same point, but erred in its mistaken assertion that these philosophical views are an inherent part of neo-Darwinian theory. The authentic lesson to be stressed is that "divine causality can be active in a process that is both contingent and guided," a process like evolution.

Pope Benedict may never be seen as "Darwin's Pope," but his writings and homilies place him squarely in the tradition of scientific acceptance established by his predecessors. The Holy Father's concerns are not with evolution per se, but with how evolution is to be understood in our modern world. Biological evolution fits neatly into a traditional Catholic understanding of how contingent natural processes can be seen as part of God's plan, while "evolutionist" philosophies that deny the Divine do not. That was the point of the pope's coronation homily.
Despite claims to the contrary by the ID camp, a careful reading suggests that the new pope will give quarter neither to the enemies of spirituality nor the enemies of evolutionary science. And that's exactly as it should be.

--Kenneth R. Miller is Professor of Biology at Brown University, and author of the book Finding Darwin's God: A Scientist's Search for Common Ground Between God and Evolution (Harper).

The Word of the Lord? Indeed, yes, thanks be to God!

Should one ever end a first lesson reading from the Apocrypha (sic) with "The Word of the Lord?"

For much of my time as a teacher of liturgy I would have answered this question firmly in the negative, appealing to Article VI (39 Articles of Religion). And for pastoral reasons I still do prefer the optional acclamation, "Here ends the first lesson," (or simply, "The first lesson," which goes better with the response "Thanks be to God"), when reading from the Deuterocanon (as I prefer to call it). However, I no longer hold that opinion so firmly. Why? Simply put: the Church should rightly affirm the deuterocanonical books as belonging to the Canon of Scripture.

Before I proceed with my argument, I will caution the reader to keep in mind that "canon" and "inspiration," though obviously related theological concepts, should not be confused or equated. Christians affirm that God inspires the writing of scripture. However, God does not canonize scripture; rather, the Church does. Canonization means the process of recognizing and authorizing those books for public worship where the Church has heard, and continues to hear, God speaking to his people. Hence, the Canon includes those books that the Church confidently affirms (defines) as those where it hears the voice of God. These in turn are authorized for public worship.

Historically, the debate centers around two competing views of canonicity with regard to the Old Testament, and consequently two understandings of scriptural inspiration: what I term the "narrow vs broad" and the "hard vs soft" views respectively. Each understanding employs different, though (I would argue) not necessarily conflicting, criteria.

Those who affirm the narrow canon position reckon as canonical only those OT books that (1) the Jews receive as scripture, and thus (2) no one in the Church disputes. Naturally, then, the Church confidently employs these books for the confirmation of doctrine (a la Jerome), which fact tends to harden (or restrict) inspiration to only those books that meet these criteria.

The broad canon view uses a different criterion to determine an OT book's canonicity: authorization for use in public worship. Thus, in practice, this broad canon view recognizes the Septuagintal Old Testament tradition, both in form and content, as canonical scripture. However, this view does not preclude an important distinction within the Old Testament between the Hebrew (or "Proto") Canon and what Article VI refers to as the "other books" (i.e., deuterocanon). Advocates of this position have ranged from those who recognize no or very little distinction in degree of inspiration between the "protos" and the "deuteros" (e.g., Trent), to those who give first place of honor to the Hebrew Canon and second place to the deuteros. Naturally, those who hold this latter position favor "softer" or less restrictive categories of scriptural inspiration. Throughout history, the broad canon (along with the soft view) has been the predominent position, commended by the continuous and unbroken use of the Septuagintal tradition in the worship and devotion of the Church.

Interestingly enough, Jerome's distinction between those books used to confirm doctrine (protos) and those books read only for edification (deuteros) has co-existed comfortably within the broader canonical view (despite the fact that Jerome argued for a narrow canon!). Cardinal Cajetan (yes, Calvin's nemesis) sums up the matter quite succinctly when he states: "...these books (or any other like books in the canon of the bible) are not canonical, that is, not in the nature of a rule for confirming matters of the faith. Yet, they may be called canonical, that is, in the nature of a rule for the edification of the faithful, as being received and authorized in the canon of the bible for that purpose" (Comments on Esther).

I do realize, however, that the Protestant mind seems hardwired to think only in terms of either/or categories of scriptural inspiration: i.e., either a book is inspired or it is not. Indeed, for many, the whole notion of sola Scriptura stands or falls on this very consideration. However, the ancients quite comfortably and aptly thought in terms of degrees of scriptural inspiration and/or importance. For instance, Jews to this day venerate the Torah (i.e., Pentateuch) in a manner that underscores their belief that only the books of Moses constitute the immediate Word of God; relegating the Prophets and (even to a lesser degree) the Writings to the lesser status of books where God spoke mediately through human beings. In similar manner, many church fathers (e.g., Augustine) readily accepted the deuteros into the ranks of canonical scripture, while admitting their inferior status, or lesser degree of inspiration. Even the "hardliner" Athanasius did not hesitate to afford the deuteros a certain level of scriptural dignity.

In the final analysis, in an Anglican context, I think how one defines the Canon boils down to preference. I can happily accept the assertion that Article VI does not admit to the canonicity of the deuteros, because I know the Article employs the narrower definition that limits the term to only those books within the biblical corpus that are used for the confirmation of doctrine. However, in liturgical praxis, I would argue that the Anglican tradition fits more comfortably in the broader canonical tradition, which would admit into the Canon of Scripture all the books of the biblical corpus that are authorized for publich worship. The crucial distinction between those books used for the confirmation of doctrine and those books read only for purposes of edification remains operative in both understandings. But to my way of thinking, God inspired both the protos and the deuteros, albeit for different purposes and to different ends.

Thanks be to God!

P.S. - The illuminated text above pictures Tobit being blinded by the droppings of a sparrow - an apt metaphor for many contexts.

Emerging from the depths of despair...

...Actually, just emerging from a long hiatus, an even longer soul-searching, some honest reappraisal of my priorities, and some annoying health issues. Nuff said.

Over at Stand Firm, frequent contributor Sarah Hey articulates the Anglican state-of-affairs quite well when she states: "There are only two real options for the Anglican Communion: discipline, and thus a restored, clear, boundaried identity, or fracture and an incoherent, undisciplined identity for what remains of the Anglican Communion."

I very much concur with this statement (though not very frequently with much else over at Stand Firm, I should note). I also have to admit that, of the two options, our present struggles will probably yield the latter outcome. If so, then (personally speaking) I will have to prepare for an existence in "what remains of the Anglican Communion," for (at this time) I cannot see myself joining the much anticipated Nigerian-led exodus!

Despite my hiatus and soul-searching, I wish my readers to understand that my essential understanding of Anglican Catholicity has not changed. I believe the Church Catholic always lives within the tension between its struggle to maintain fidelity to its creedal commitments and the need for the application and adaptation of those commitments to the unique set of contextual pressures that face the Church of every age and in every culture. Into this tension we are obliged to mix the advances of learning (theological, scientific, societal, hermeneutical, etc.), along with the scholarly reappraisal of time-honored formularies and traditions that inevitably takes place in each age. Sometimes such inquiries prove harmful and end up hindering progress (like mutations in the genetic code). Much of the time they prove benign. But sometimes (and I believe ultimately) the process of inquiry, testing, and affirmation produces the very theological adaptations necessary to articulate and communicate the "faith-once-delivered" from generation to generation. In short, the Church Catholic must inevitably experience conflict, often tumultuous conflict, as it balances out these factors. We live in just such an age.

P.S. - Written diligently in "E-Prime".

Hello? Is there anybody in there?

Okay, so I stole that line from Pink Floyd. "Comfortably Numb" -- great song. For those who may still come by to read this blog, be on the lookout for the resumption of my blogging come this weekend. I spent much of last weekend (Thurs.-Mon.) in the hospital. I had a little chest pain scare, and went through a number of tests over the weekend, including the dreaded stress test...not fun. Heart seems okay. I'm still having chest pains, but at least I'm not stressed about it. Ha! That's ironic since stress seems to be the problem!