The Original Meaning of ‘Primacy of Honor’

Position and Patronage in the Early Church: The Original Meaning of ‘Primacy of Honor’

Brian E. Daley

'The Bishop of Constantinople shall have the primacy of honor after the Bishop of Rome, because Constantinople is new Rome.' This terse sentence, tantalizing both in what it implies and in what it leaves unexplained, is the full text of canon 3 of the First Council of Constantinople (381), as it is usually translated into English.¹ Like the six other canons attributed to that Council (three of which are probably the work of later gatherings), it seems to have had only limited authority in the early Church, until a caucus of the Eastern bishops participating in the Council of Chalcedon seventy years later appealed to it in the famous resolution that came to be known as that Council's 28th canon—a text that set out to define the primacy of the see of Constantinople more closely, among the churches of the Eastern Empire.² Yet in the centuries that followed, as both the Eastern and the Western Churches struggled to identify and shape, theologically and canonically, the structure and norms of ecclesial authority, this third canon of Constantinople I, along with its interpretation in the 28th canon of Chalcedon, has remained fundamentally important, both for denning the terms of Church leadership and for identifying the relationship of its traditional centres.

To most people today, a 'primacy of honor' doubtless suggests a status of eminence and a role of leadership that is purely ceremonial: a mark of public recognition without practical rights or duties, much like honorary citizenship, an honorary fellowship in a college, or an honorary degree. So most modern authors who discuss these early canons tend to assume that a 'primacy of honor' is a position of moral leadership: a sign of traditionally recognized auctoritas or prestige, as distinguished from effective decision making or juridical power within the structures of Church institutions—in other words, as distinguished from jurisdiction.³

This also seems to have been what it suggested, first of all, to the great twelfth-century Byzantine canonists. Joannes Zonaras, for instance, in arguing that the placing of the Bishop of Constantinople 'after the Bishop of Rome' cannot have a simply chronological meaning (as Alexios Aristenos and others argued), but that it must refer in some way to their relative rank in the universal Church, observes that it would be impossible for both 'thrones' to possess exactly equivalent honor (tinf]): someone, after all, must be named first in the Eucharistic anaphora and sit in the first place at synods, and someone's name must appear first on conciliar documents.⁴ And Theodore Balsamon, in a comment on canon 28 of Chalcedon, lists as the privileges (7rpov6|iia) of the Bishop of Rome several of the ceremonial distinctions accorded the Pope in the ninth-century 'Donation of Constantine': the right to wear a Phrygian cap and a chain of office, for instance, or to carry a sceptre and walk in procession preceded by banners, or to ride a horse—all quasi-imperial honors Balsamon wistfully wishes his own Patriarch might be allowed to claim as well.⁵ By modern standards, these clearly fall into the category of 'purely honorary' privileges.

As always, however, there is a danger here of reading back into the decisions of the fourth and fifth centuries distinctions that are meaningful only in the context of a later Church and a later civil society. However important it may be to distinguish between personal or moral 'authority' and canonical or structural 'jurisdiction' in the Churches and constitutional republics of today, one cannot simply assume that such distinctions hold good for the traditions and legislation of the Patristic age. I believe, in fact, that in the mind of the ancient Hellenistic and Roman world, 'honor' and actual influence on the course of events within society were not so easily separated from each other, and that the 'primacy' these canons ascribe to the bishops of both Rome and Constantinople among their episcopal colleagues must be understood, in their original context, as having clearly practical, even juridical implications.

¹ The translation here is that of W. A. Hammond, in Creeds, Councils and Controversies, J. Stevenson (Seabury: New York, 1966), 148. For the Greek text, see Centro di Documentazione, Istituto per le Scienze Religiose (Bologna), Conciliorum Oecumenicorum Decreta (Freiburg, etc., 1962) (hereafter: COD) 28, 11. 14-19. This collection has newly been republished with facing English translation: N. P. Tanner (ed.), Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, 2 vols., (London and Washington, 1990) (hereafter: Tanner). For can. 3 of Constantinople in this collection, see p. 32.

² The Papal delegates at Chalcedon first responded to the use of can. 3 of Constantinople by suggesting it did not form part of the received collection of conciliar decisions: ACO II, 1, 453 f. For the history of the text of the canons of Constantinople I, and of their later inclusion in canonical collections of the Eastern and Western Churches, see A. Michel, 'Der Kampf um das politische oder petrinische Prinzip der Kirchenfuhrung', in Das Konzil von Chalkedon 2, A. Grillmeier and H. Bacht (Wurzburg, 1953), 495-99; I. Ortiz de Urbina, Nicee et Constantinople (Paris, 1963), 206; A. M. Ritter, Das Konzil von Konstantinopel und sein Symbol (Gottingen, 1965), 92; 'II secondo concilio ecumenico e la sua recezione. Stato della ricerca', Cristianesimo nella storia 2 (1981), 341—65.

³ See, for example, the classic statement of J. Meyendorf: 'L'autorite de ces Eglises [i.e., those recognized in these canons as having a 'primacy of honor'] ne comportait pas, par elle-meme, de pouvoir juridique: la distinction entre cette autorite et ce pouvoir est essentielle pour comprendre Porganisation de l'Eglise ancienne et son evolution.' ('La primaute romaine dans la tradition canonique jusqu'au Concile de Chalcedoine', Istina 4 (1957), 481.) Among Roman Catholic authors the same assumption tends to be made; see, for instance, G. Jouassard, 'Sur les decisions des conciles generaux des IVe et Ve siecles dans leur rapports avec la primaute romaine', ibid. 490; and more recently, A. de Halleux, 'Le decret chalcedonien sur les prerogatives de la Nouvelle Rome', Ephemerides theologicae Lovanienses 64 (1988), 300, 308.

⁴ Commentary on can. 3 of Constantinople I (PG 137. 325 C2—7).

⁵ Ibid. 488 A3—Bn. For the corresponding text in Donatio Constantini 14—16, see C. Mirbt and K. Aland (eds.), Quellen zur Geschichte des Papsttums und des Romischen Katholizismus (Tubingen, 1967), 254 f.

I. The Meaning of the Terms

In ancient Mediterranean societies, the respect of one's neighbors was a prime criterion for determining the value of a person's life. 'Honor' (honos), for the Romans of Republican times, was not simply an internal sense of human dignity, an attitude of respect, or an awareness of one's own or another's worth; it was understood to be essentially something bestowed by other members of the body politic in recognition of a person's intrinsic virtue and meritorious public actions, in other words, the result of a public judgement about someone's value to society.⁶ Honor was the grateful recognition not only of political goodness but of political service; and the normal means ancient societies had for expressing it was through the bestowal of office: an institutionalized position of political responsibility. A city without the ability to elect public officials, in Cicero's view, was crippled, because it had no way of stimulating generous displays of public service: 'Where honor is not publicly given, there can be no desire for glory.'⁷ So both honos and dignitas-—which suggested the long-term status of a person who is continually given honor—came to be used, by the Romans, to mean political office itself: the elected position of influence and power that was a mark of public recognition. Thus the ideal career of a Roman male, who had enough wealth and social connections to realize it, was conceived of as a kind of spiral of generous actions and resulting civic responsibilities: personal excellence {virtus) showed itself in virtuous public deeds, which were recognized by election to office; good performance there led to the more profound recognition of higher offices. 'Honor', habitualized as 'dignity', meant both society's approval and the position of leadership, or even legal jurisdiction, through which that approval was normally expressed.

Classical Greece seems to have shared the same basic assumptions about virtue and its rewards. Ti(xf|, which we usually translate as 'honor' or 'esteem', was also used to mean the prerogative of a king⁸ or an elected office within a democracy. In arguing that only virtuous people (oi tnieiKEiq) should actually rule (dp^eiv, Kupiouq eivai) in society, Aristotle concludes: 'Therefore the rest must necessarily be without honor (a.xi[io\)q), since they are not given the honors of political office; for we call positions of rule (&PX<X<;) "honors", and if these are the ones who always rule, the rest must necessarily be "those without honor".'⁹ The peak of honor, clearly, was to win first prize in a game or political contest, or to hold first place (TO 7tpa>T£iov): this was once Athens' role among the cities of the Greek world,¹⁰ and was, analogously, the mind's role among human powers.¹¹ It was natural for a Greek, then, to equate 'first place' (TOC JtpcoTEia) with 'honor' (TI^T)) and 'glory' (56£,ot),¹² and also to refer to the leading figures of a city, when exercising their civic functions, as 'the first people' or 'primates' (oi JtpcoteuovTEi;).¹³ And it was natural, too, for early Christian writers to use this same term for the 'headship' of Christ in the universe,¹⁴ or for the role of the bishop as 'head' of the local church.¹⁵

/7pecjPeia, too, was an important term for the position that served as the basis for practical leadership. Related to the adjective 'old' (rcpeaPix;), it meant, first of all, 'seniority', and then 'precedence'— authority based on age, which Aristotle suggests is one of the main sources of parental authority, as well as 'the form of royal rule'.¹⁶ Plato uses this notion of precedence in parallel to 'power' (56vaut<^), when speaking of the 'super-essential' position and causal role of the Form of the Good¹⁷—a passage Origen alludes to in discussing the essence of God.¹⁸ Similarly, the neuter form of the related adjective (TO TipsciPeiov, T& TtpeapeTa) is regularly used to mean the rights and privileges that come with seniority: the authority to judge (E7u8iaKpiv£iv)¹⁹ or to rule as king.²⁰ Like other expressions of 'firstness', rcpeapeioc and TA TipeapeTa clearly imply, for classical Greek authors, a primacy of position that is assumed to have practical results in terms of social authority: prerogatives that are not merely honorary in modern terms— but are also real. Rank and power are, for the ancient Mediterranean mind if not for our own, inseparable from each other.

⁶ See the interesting reflections, with abundant sources, of F. Klose, 'Altromische Wertbegriffe (honos und dignitas)', Neue Jahrbiicher fur Antike und deutsche Bildung i (1938), 268-78.

⁷ De lege agraria 2.91, speaking of the political paralysis of the city of Capua.

⁸ E.g., Herodian, Historiae 7.10.5 (2nd cent. CE).

⁹ Politics 3.6.3 (1281a 30—33).

¹⁰ Demosthenes, Fourth Phillippic, Or 10.74.

¹¹ Plato, Philebus 22e, 33c.

¹² For a revealing discussion using all these terms, see Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica 1.1.4-1.2.2; Diodorus suggests that the 'first place' of honor should really be given to history itself, for making the healthy desire for lasting civic honor capable of realization.

¹³ E.g., Herodian, Historiae 8.7.2.

¹⁴ A striking example is a passage in the third book of Irenaeus' Adversus Haereses. The Word of God became visible, comprehensible, even passible, Irenaeus writes, 'so that, as the Word of God has first rank (princeps est; JtpcoieuEi) in things that are above the heavens, in spiritual and invisible things, so also he might have first rank (principatum; itpcoxeoCTT)) in visible and corporeal things, and that, by taking primacy (primatum; T<i ItpcoTEia) to himself and making himself head of the Church, he might draw all things to himself in the proper time' (3.16.6). For a perceptive study of the ecclesiological implications of this whole family of expressions, see H. Holstein, '"Propter potentiorem principalitatem" (Saint Irenee, Adversus Haereses III, 3, 2)', Reckerches de science religieuse 36

¹⁵ Cyprian, for instance, seems to use primatus not just to mean 'firstness' in temporal sequence or ceremonial seniority, but to imply some claim to a 'prior' authority to preach, baptize, and judge within the Churches; this, at least, seems to be its implication in Epp. 69.8 and 71.3—otherwise there would be no cause for argument. See J. Le Moyne, 'Saint Cyprien est-il bien l'auteur de la redaction  breve de "De Unitate" chapitre 4?' Revue Benedictine 63 (1953), 107-11. Opposed to this understanding, however, is M. Bevenot, "'Primatus Petri Datur". St. Cyprian on the Papacy', JTS 5 (1954), 22-25, esP- 24: 'That [primatus] should have the meaning of "power" in general, or of "episcopal power", seems to have no roots anywhere in Cyprian.' Bevenot's later interpretation of primatus in Cyprian's works, however, is more cautious: it 'need not mean "the primacy", with all its modern overtones. It could imply no more than a certain priority, usually in time' (Cyprian, De Lapsis and De Ecclesiae Catholicae Unitate (Oxford, 1971), xiv).

¹⁶ Politics 1.5.2 (1259b 12).

¹⁷ Republic 6.19 (509b).

¹⁸ Commentary on John 13.21 (123): SC 222.95 f.

¹⁹ Plato, Gorgias 79 (524a).

²⁰ Sophocles, Aegeus, Fragment 1 (from Strabo 9.601): 'My father decided to go away ..., Giving me authority over the land

II. The Prerogatives of ‘Old’ and ‘New’ Rome

It is always a risky business to base the interpretation of historical events and institutions on the study of words, especially since the meanings of words evolve in ways that can only be determined from the context of a previously understood history. Making precise judgments about the meaning of Greek words in the later Patristic period is especially difficult, because the lexical and grammatical features of the language in the early Christian centuries have, until now, been only sketchily and inconsistently studied. Still, our knowledge of Greek literary style and usage in the fourth and fifth centuries—particularly in the imperial capital—suggests that one is justified in looking to the classical form of the language, rather than later Byzantine idiom, for help in understanding the nuances of official proclamations. It was, after all, the language of Libanius and the Emperor Julian, of the great fourth-century grammarians and lexicographers, as well as the language of the Cappadocian Fathers—a language that was normally intended to be classical when used before a discerning world. For this reason, I suggest that a more natural translation of the third canon of Constantinople, in the context of classical usage, would be the following: 'The Bishop of Constantinople shall have the prerogatives of office (TOC TtpeaPeToc TTJ<; Tiufjc;) after the Bishop of Rome, because it [i.e., Constantinople] is a new Rome.' And I believe that a careful reading of the documents that form the broader context of this legislation—particularly the acts of the Council of Chalcedon, where the meaning and implications of the Bishop of Constantinople's privileges were discussed and specified in clear, practical terms—confirms the intuition that a 'purely honorary' primacy for the Bishop of either 'Old Rome' or 'New Rome' was not at all what the early councils meant to define and confirm.

The development of Church office in the early Christian community, as well as the events and implications of the early councils, have been discussed in almost overpowering detail; we cannot and need not do more here than highlight a few aspects of that development, and of the discussions that surrounded it, which may shed light on our argument.

1. The Council of Nicaea (325), that first world-wide gathering of Christian bishops which remained, for later councils, the norm of authoritative proclamation and legislation, itself took important steps to regulate and define the relationships of the major sees. Canon 6 of Nicaea laid down, as consistent with 'the ancient customs' of Egypt and Libya, 'that the bishop of Alexandria should have authority (8^ouaiocv) over all these [churches], since this is likewise the custom for the bishop in Rome'.²¹ Similarly, the Council ordains, 'the prerogatives (7tpeaPeia) are to be preserved for the Churches in Antioch and in the other provinces'. Apparently, a first attempt was being made here to define canonically the precedence or 'seniority' of metropolitan sees: the churches in the capital cities of civil provinces, with particular reference to the church of Alexandria, the centre of both theological and jurisdictional crisis in 325. The normal Christian practice, as reflected here and in the preceding canon, was for the bishops of the local churches to gather for common concerns in synodal groupings parallel to each civic province (eTtocpxia), under the presidency of the bishop of the province's major city or metropolis; but the Bishop of Alexandria is recognized here as having, by force of ancient custom, a wider jurisdiction: a seniority and an authority over the four provinces of eastern North Africa that comprised most of the civil 'diocese' of Egypt.²² The model given by the canon, in confirming this extraordinary role for the Alexandrian bishop, is the authority of the Bishop of Rome—presumably in his role in the provinces of central Italy.

The canon then ordains, more generally, that 'in Antioch and the other provinces, the prerogatives (rcpeaPela) of the Churches are to be preserved', and gives, perhaps simply as a classic example, at least one important way in which the normal pattern of super-episcopal authority is to be understood: if someone is made bishop without the approval of the metropolitan bishop, 'the great synod'—presumably the full assembly of the bishops of the province, meeting twice a year and presided over by the metropolitan, as decreed in canon 5—is to decide by vote whether or not he is to be recognized. 'The npEaPeia of the Churches', and of metropolitans within them, both in Alexandria and elsewhere, clearly has a juridical application here, precisely in the often contentious question of confirming the appointment of local bishops.

Canon 7 of Nicaea is also interesting as an illustration of how this same range of terms is used in an ecclesial context. 'Since the custom and the ancient tradition still holds good', it decrees, 'that the bishop in Aelia [Jerusalem] should have rank (TiuaaGou: lit., 'be honored'), let him possess the consequences of that rank (TT)V aKoX.oo0iocv zr\q ii\if\c,), while the proper dignity (d^icoua) of the metropolitan [of Caesaraea] is preserved'.²³ The ancient status of the see of Jerusalem—insignificant since the early second century, but now regaining its importance as a Christian centre—is to be recognized in a practical way; yet how that role is to be realized concretely is here left undefined, even though the canon obviously foresees a clash between the revived rank of Jerusalem and the privileges of Caesaraea, the metropolitan see of southern Palestine. Despite its vagueness, this canon seems to imply more than the purely ceremonial rank some have seen in it;²⁴ if the 'consequences of rank' confirmed here were not of some practical import in the life of the Palestinian churches, there would be no need to stress the continuing 'dignity' of Caesaraea as well.

2. The great post-Nicene provincial Synod of Antioch, traditionally dated in 34i,²⁵ carried this definition of the authority of the 'metropolitan' bishop a step further. He is to 'precede the others in rank (xfj xi(xrj JiporiyeiaGai)', according to canon 9, and to 'bear responsibility (xf|v <j)pOvTi5a ava8exeaGai) for the whole province'; this is interpreted as meaning that bishops within the province are not to do anything 'without him', except what is strictly internal to their own local churches. And the metropolitan, in turn, is not to act—again, presumably, outside the boundaries of his own church—'without the approval of the rest [of the bishops of the province]'.²⁶ Although his jurisdiction is limited by the obligation to consult the provincial synod, the Tijif) of the metropolitan bishop is understood here, once again, to be more than a simply honorary title.

3. The main agenda of the synod that gathered in Constantinople in 381, under the sponsorship of the Emperor Theodosius I, is recognized by scholars today to have been more than simply dogmatic: more than simply the reaffirmation of the faith of Nicaea, through the Trinitarian lens of Cappadocian theology, and the condemnation of the principal heresies of the late fourth century. In the turbulence of the theological conflicts in the capital at the beginning of Theodosius' reign, Maximus 'the Cynic' had managed to have himself ordained bishop of the homoousian community there by a legate of Peter, Bishop of Alexandria—with the long-distance support of Ambrose of Milan—in opposition to Gregory of Nazianzus, homoousian Bishop of Constantinople, who was to preside over the synod. Another prime sponsor of the gathering, Meletius of Antioch, had himself struggled for some twenty years with Paulinus, the rival claimant to his see who also had the backing of both the Roman and the Alexandrian Churches. Understandably, this synod seems to have gathered in an anti-Alexandrian (and possibly an anti-Roman) mood, and to have had from the start the clear purpose of reaffirming the principles of non-interference among the regions of Christendom that had been laid down at Nicaea and Antioch earlier in the century, but which had been widely abused in the intervening decades.²⁷ Gregory was, as always, a reluctant chairman, and Meletius died during the early days of the Council; but the bishops present—mainly from central, northern and eastern Asia Minor, and from Syria and Palestine (all part of the Antiochene and Constantinopolitan spheres of influence)—seem to have been determined to limit the ability of the Alexandrian Church to influence the affairs of the other Eastern Churches in the future.

Canon 2 of Constantinople extended the ancient principle of a territorially limited jurisdiction over groups of local churches, formally enunciated at Nicaea, from the provincial level to that of the civil diocese or region. The canons of Antioch had proposed guidelines for appeals by bishops to 'greater', super-provincial episcopal gatherings if they should be unwilling to accept decisions of their own provincial synods on disputed issues, but they did not define just how those 'greater' gatherings were to be composed.²⁸ This canon now clarified the same principle, expressly on (civil) diocesan lines, by insisting—doubtless with Alexandria primarily in mind—that no bishop may 'go beyond' his diocese to share in any administrative activity (oiKOvouia) or to participate in ordinations, unless he is specially invited. Explicitly listed here are the five civil dioceses of the Greek-speaking part of the Empire: Egypt (the northeastern corner of Africa), Oriens (including the Levant, Syria, and Palestine), Pontus (northern and eastern Asia Minor), Asia (western and southern Asia Minor) and Thrace (the eastern tip of Europe south of the Danube). Only the diocese of Egypt is spoken of here as having a single bishop as its administrative head; responsibility in the other four is attributed simply to 'the bishops', which presumably refers, at least in principle, to new, super-provincial or diocesan synods.²⁹

But while the leadership of the Bishop of Antioch in the diocese of Oriens would certainly be felt under such a new, regional system,³⁰ the three smaller dioceses of the north, of Asia Minor and Greek-speaking Europe, had now been officially recognized as super-provincial ecclesial units without having parallel, traditionally recognized centres of gravity. The implication seems clear enough: Constantinople, the imperial capital on the Bosporus, the 'New Rome' of the Christian Empire, would be expected to fill the vacuum of Church leadership in those regions. Without explicitly defining the terms of Constantinople's influence or focusing it directly on this area, canon 3 of the Council of 381 seems to follow naturally from this line of thought; it not only sets the stage for the development of such a 'northern' centre of authority, but ranks it second after 'Old Rome' in order of importance—ahead of both Alexandria and Antioch. The foundation of the 'patriarchal' system that would be canonized by Justinian in the sixth century had now been laid.

4. After 381, the bishops of Constantinople were not slow to begin using their newly enunciated 'seniority' or 'prerogatives of office' in a practical way.³¹ In 394, for instance, Bishop Nectarius of Constantinople presided at a synod in the capital, attended by the bishops of both Alexandria and Antioch, at which the agenda included a discussion of the affairs of the Church of Bosra in Arabia—part of the diocese of Oriens (and therefore in the 'patriarchal' region of Antioch), under the metropolitan jurisdiction of Caesaraea, and in the acknowledged sphere of influence of Jerusalem! John Chrysostom, at the start of the next decade, ordained bishops in all three of the 'smaller' dioceses of the north, as did his successors Atticus (406—25) and Proclus (434—46).³² In a decree of 14 July, 421, the Emperor Theodosius II placed the province of Illyricum (today northern Greece) under the ecclesiastical supervision of the Bishop of Constantinople, even though it had, for some sixty years, been supervised by the Bishop of Rome through his legate, the Bishop of Thessalonica; Theodosius' reason was that Constantinople 'enjoys the prerogatives (praerogatoa = 7tpeaPeva) of Old Rome'.³³ Pope Boniface I persuaded Honorius, Theodosius' Western colleague, to countermand this decree, but it was clear that the thinking in the Eastern capital, of both bishop and emperor, was moving in the direction of real, formally recognized super-provincial jurisdiction for the see of Constantinople, at least in the matter of episcopal ordinations. The 'office' of being bishop of the imperial city was already understood to have practical consequences far beyond the Bosporus, even before those powers were canonically defined.

5. This definition was begun in earnest at the Council of Chalcedon (451). Doctrinally and politically, that gathering also meant defeat for the Church of Alexandria and its ambitious bishop, Dioscorus. After the completion of the dogmatic statement on the person of Christ, and the enactment of a number of disciplinary canons, a smaller group of 185 Greek-speaking bishops—mainly from the three smaller dioceses of the north³⁴—passed a resolution on 29 October, 451, defining more exactly the prerogatives (rcpeaPeia) of the Bishop of Constantinople in the wider Church.³⁶ This resolution, which eventually came to be known as the 28th canon of Chalcedon, begins with a declaration of intent to follow both 'the definitions of the Fathers'—a phrase which probably refers to canon 6 of the Council of Nicaea36—and the legislation of the Council of Constantinople. 'The Fathers have rightly recognized³⁷ the prerogatives' of 'the throne of the older Rome' because of the city's imperial status, and the 'hundred and fifty' at Constantinople followed the same reasoning in giving 'equal prerogatives (m i'cra 7tp£ap"eia) to the most holy throne of new Rome': its growth to second status on the political stage calls for it to 'be magnified, as [Rome] is, also in ecclesiastical matters'. The decree then spells out at least two major jurisdictional dimensions of these prerogatives: the bishops of Constantinople shall, from now on, ordain all the metropolitan bishops of the three northern imperial dioceses, leaving it to these metropolitans to ordain the bishops of their own provinces; and the bishops of Constantinople shall also ordain the bishops of the 'barbarian' or mission regions, dependent on these dioceses but outside the borders of the Empire.

Canons 9 and 17 of the council, previously approved by the full assembly, had spelled out another new aspect of Constantinople's super-provincial jurisdiction, by allowing a bishop who had a canonical complaint against the metropolitan of his province to appeal either to 'the exarch of the diocese'—the metropolitan, presumably, of the diocese's main city—or to 'the throne of Constantinople'.³⁸ It is not clear from the text whether this arrangement is meant simply to apply, like the jurisdictional details of 'canon 28', to the three smaller Eastern dioceses, none of which could claim an ancient ecclesiastical point of reference at its centre with the prestige of an Alexandria or an Antioch, or whether it is intended to recognize the see of Constantinople as at least an alternative court of appeal for bishops throughout the Greek-speaking world.³⁹ The result, in any case, of these three canons of Chalcedon was to provide a first canonical definition of what would be called, from the sixth century on, the 'Patriarchate' of the capital city. And Bishop Juvenal of Jerusalem, who, through private negotiations with the Bishop of Antioch at the time of the council, succeeded in defining his own see's super-metropolitan jurisdiction within the three provinces of Palestine,⁴⁰ joined with these three canons in setting the stage for the classical theory of the Pentarchy, which would begin to be articulated in the time of Justinian.

6. In themselves, of course, these jurisdictional measures only provide us with a sketchy structural outline of the way the 'primacy' of these episcopal sees was meant to function; they tell us nothing of the motivation behind them, or the fears and expectations they aroused, and give us little information on what contemporaries considered to be their real relevance. Legislation always needs to be contextualized if its meaning and force is to be understood; and since the Acta of Chalcedon—thanks to Justinian's apologetic efforts during the following century on behalf of the Council's Christology⁴¹—have been preserved with a fullness unparalleled in ancient or medieval Christianity, they provide the best contextual guide to how the terminology of 'honor', 'primacy', and 'power' was understood, in Latin and Greek, at the time of the Council and its reception.

If one compares the Greek and Latin texts of the debates and documents of Chalcedon on this issue, one cannot help but be struck by the fluidity with which terms implying rank and honor are used. The letter of the assembled bishops to Pope Leo at the end of the Council, for instance, speaks of the TipeaPeTa or privileges which the Council has accorded to the see of Constantinople, second now to those of Leo himself; the Latin translation of Rusticus the Deacon renders this by honores, while an earlier Latin translation speaks instead of primatus,⁴² When the Roman legates and the Greek secretary of the Council each read aloud the text of canon 6 of Nicaea at the start of the debate on the resolution in session 17, the Latin version (which seems to represent a late fourth-century translation of the Nicene canons⁴³) translates the original word used there for the rights of metropolitan bishops, TtpeaPeia, by primatus, which in turn is rendered back, in the Greek version of the Acta of Chalcedon, by 7tpayteia.⁴⁴ Primatus, in fact, seems to be used rather broadly in the Latin Acta to signify 'chief responsibility', final executive or judicial power: so the imperial letter appointing Dioscorus to preside over the quasijudicial proceedings of the Synod of Ephesus in 449, and included in the Chalcedonian dossier, grants him 'authority and primacy' (xr|v aoGevtiav mi TCX npcoxEia = auctoritatem et primatum^); the monk Eutyches' role, as superior of his community, is also referred to in the Latin translation as primatus.^*6 Perhaps most significant of all, Rusticus' Latin version of canon 3 of Constantinople, as read by the secretary in session 17, translates the phrase 'primacy of honor' (7rpEapeia xf\c, Tijifjq) as primatus honorem ('the honor of primacy' or 'the status of seniority'): for this sixth-century Latin writer, at least, the 'precedence' implied in rcpeapEia was sufficiently close to the 'honor' it conferred to allow the two terms to be reversed without altering the meaning of the phrase. 'Primacy' and 'honor' seem, for him at least, to be synonyms.

In all this shifting usage of Greek and Latin terms, it is clear that being 'first' implied much more practical consequences for the bishops of the mid-fifth century than wearing a Phrygian cap or riding a horse. In his stern letter of protest on the primacy resolution, written in the spring of 452 to Bishop Anatolius of Constantinople, Pope Leo complained that the new structure infringes the privilegia honoris (TtpeaPeia Tfjq Tiufj<;) confirmed at Nicaea for the bishops of Alexandria and Antioch: now, in effect, they are deprived of proprio honore and 'subordinated to your powers' (iuri tuo subditi).⁴⁷ To Maximus, Bishop of Antioch, Leo wrote a year later, urging him to take steps to affirm the traditional privilegia of his Church. Even if the merits of bishops vary through the years, Leo observes, 'the rights (iura) of their sees remain, and the ambitious may perhaps trouble those sees, but cannot lessen their worth (dignitatem)'.⁴⁸

For the Eastern bishops who had voted for the resolution on 31 October, and who explained their reasons during the debate the following day, these primatial rights or 7ipeCTPeia of the see of Constantinople meant above all the right to ordain bishops. So five of the thirteen who spoke on the subject—all from provinces in Asia Minor and all from cities at some distance from the capital—pointed to the fact that they, and in several cases two or three of their predecessors, had been ordained by the Bishop of Constantinople.⁴⁹ And the right to ordain clearly implied, for them, not simply a ceremonial custom, but the ability to act as referee—as well as the duty to take unpopular decisions—in the struggles over episcopal succession that racked so many small Hellenistic cities.⁵⁰

What was at stake, in fact, was not simply 'moral authority' in the modern sense, but the relationship of a powerful benefactor to a grateful and dependent protege, closely analogous to the patronage that continued to play an important role in the relationships of both individuals and cities to wealthy senators and officials, even in the fifth and sixth centuries.⁵¹ To have been confirmed as a candidate for Church office and ordained by an important metropolitan, especially if the election process had been contentious, put both a bishop and his whole Church in that metropolitan's debt. It made the local bishop his dependent, and so, in a very practical sense, his client, with traditionally understood obligations of loyalty and support. So Critianus of Aphrodisias defends his own support of the Chalcedonian resolution in these terms: 'I gave my signature of my own free will, wanting to follow the intentions of the holy Fathers [i.e., canon 3 of Constantinople] and because I am a debtor (x.pecoo'TGuv) to that throne; I was ordained [by the bishop of Constantinople], and my predecessors were, and our Church received its whole patronage (Trpocnacria) from it.'⁵² Romanus of Myra puts the relationship more simply and more forcefully: 'I was not forced to sign [the resolution]; I am glad to be under (vno) the throne of Constantinople, since he gave me my position and he ordained me (amoc, ue etiuriaev Kai aoxog ue £xeiPOT°VTlCTev)-'⁶³ The one who confers an honor can expect, in the ancient Church as in the ancient world, to receive both deference and higher honor in return.

This does not mean that the bishops assembled at Chalcedon were unable to confer titles and distinctions that were also purely honorary in the modern sense of the term—lacking, that is, both canonical jurisdiction and recognized practical influence. At the end of session 6, for instance, amid the cheers and self-congratulation of the ceremony at which the Emperor and Empress formally received the council's definition of faith, Marcian himself proclaimed that the city in which this definition was forged—simply a small town of Bithynia, across the Bosporus from the capital—should henceforth have honorary metropolitan status: 'In honor of the holy martyr Euphemia and of your holinesses,' he informs the bishops assembled in Euphemia's shrine, 'we have decreed that the city of Chalcedon, in which the holy faith has been confirmed by this synod, shall have the rank (npeaPeia) of a metropolis; but we only wish to honor it with the name (6V6".<XTI \iov(i> ... Tiuf|(javTe<;), and the proper role (TOO oiKeiou &^i6uaTO<;) of the metropolitan city of Nicomedia is to be preserved.'⁵⁴

The brief fourteenth session of the Council was dedicated to solving a jurisdictional dispute between Eunomius, Bishop of Nicomedia, and Anastasius, Bishop of Nicaea, both of whom—on the basis of custom and earlier imperial decrees—claimed metropolitan rank in the province of Bithynia, and the rights of ordination and patronage that flowed from it. The judgment of their fellow bishops was that the Bishop of Nicomedia, the see of more ancient importance, should have 'the full authority (OCUOEVxia) of metropolitan' in the province, 'and the bishop of Nicaea shall have only the honor (TT|V Tiur)v novr|v) of metropolitan, but shall be under the authority (C)7iOKEiu£VOv) of the bishop of Nicomedia in the same way as all the other bishops of the province'.⁵⁵ A 'purely honorary' rank among the churches, in other words, was certainly possible in the fifth century; but the language that recognizes it must be explicitly and rather laboriously nuanced' in order to show that the Tinf) in question is not endowed with its normal powers. In the absence of such periphrasis, it is to be presumed that 'honor' and 'rank' have practical consequences in the structure of authority.

Even a brief look such as this at the language of 'honor' and 'primacy' in the debates of Chalcedon may help us to understand more clearly not only the controversial resolution of 29 October, 451, and the canon of Constantinople which it claimed as its precedent, but also the precisely worded judgement by which the imperial commissioners, who presided at the following day's debate of the resolution, expressed their understanding and approval. From what had been argued in the debate, they concluded 'that according to the canons, the first place (xd 7tpcoT8ia) and the highest rank (TT)V EcaipeTOV xiuf)v) before all others (npo mxvTCOV) is reserved to the archbishop⁵⁶ of the older Rome, beloved of God; and that the most holy archbishop of the royal city of Constantinople, New Rome, enjoys the same prerogatives of office (xcov OCUTCOV TtpsaPeicov xfjc; xi\if\q = eisdem primatibus honoris)'.⁵⁷ They then proceed to spell out in some detail what these 'prerogatives of office' entail: the Bishop of Constantinople shall have 'full and supreme authority' (&E, auBevxiai; e^ouaiav = potestatem) to ordain the metropolitans of the three civil dioceses of Asia, Pontus, and Thrace, once they have been duly elected by the 'clerics, landowners and distinguished men of each metropolis, and then chosen by all or a majority of the reverend bishops of the province ...’⁵⁸ The Bishop of Constantinople is to ordain each metropolitan, either in the metropolitan city or in the capital; and with that right of ordination, as the discussion at Chalcedon and as the practice of the preceding seventy years attests, came the duty of approving the elected candidates for metropolitan sees and of making an authoritative judgement in disputed elections. The commissioners stress, however, that he is not to become involved at all in the elections or ordinations of local bishops—i.e., those below metropolitan rank—within these civil dioceses.⁵⁹ No further mention is made of the ordination of bishops for 'barbarian' territories, presumably because this was clear in itself and less controversial.

Read in this way, the v|/fj4>o<; of 29 October, 451, was both an affirmation and a restriction of the ecclesiastical patronage practiced by the bishops of the Eastern capital since the 390s. Like canon 6 of Nicaea, the super-metropolitan rights of Constantinople are defined here with the help of a reference to the older, parallel rights of 'Old Rome', in Italy and the West.⁶⁰ In the three northern dioceses of the East, at least, 'New Rome' is to enjoy the same effective status, the same 'prerogatives of office', that the older Rome enjoys in its own geographical sphere of influence. Yet on the wider stage of Christendom, the hallowed traditional 'firstness' of 'Old Rome' is still to be respected; the i a a npeapeux of Constantinople, as defined by this resolution, are in no sense to be seen as a contradiction of the e^aipSToq Ti|af), the primary position of honor and influence in the world Church, of the Bishop of Rome.

The clarity of the imperial commissioners' reading of canon 28 of Chalcedon helps clarify, in turn, what was and what was not behind Rome's strongly negative reaction to the resolution. As soon as the text was read, on the morning of 30 October, 451, Leo's delegates, Paschasinus and Lucensius, protested that it was both an 'affront' (iniuria) to the Roman see and 'a violation of the canons' [canonum eversio).⁶¹ Yet the problem cannot have been that the resolution had failed to acknowledge the traditional 'first place' of the Roman bishop, or that it canonized the primatial function which the bishops of Constantinople had, in fact, been exercising—with Rome's tacit acceptance—for some seventy years.⁶² Both of these primacies, by now, were beyond question.

The problem for the West, apparently, lay both in the resolution's argumentation and in the precedents it cited. By emphasizing the third canon of Constantinople as a normative antecedent, the resolution implied official acceptance, as law, of the canons of a council that had not yet been formally received by the Western Church, and probably not even by the Church of Alexandria. The Western delegates had apparently been prepared to accept the solemn invocation of Constantinople I as a precedent for the Chalcedonian definition of Christological faith, presumably because this was simply a variant of a widely-used Eastern baptismal creed, which reaffirmed the basic teaching of Nicaea and developed it more fully with respect to the Holy Spirit.⁶³ But they were much more wary of giving official recognition to Constantinople's disciplinary measures.⁶⁴ To set it alongside Nicaea as a source of binding canonical tradition, as well as a supplementary witness to right faith, was to alter the perspectives of that tradition, to raise a second episcopal gathering beyond the status of the various synods of the mid-fourth century, and to attribute to it the normative value that until then was attributed only to Nicaea. Thus Lucensius' first question, after hearing the text of the resolution, was not simply whether the bishops who had signed it had done so free of compulsion—a question one might well ask when the privileges of the emperor's own city were at stake—but why they 'had been forced to give their signatures to canons not included in the official collection {non conscriptis canonibus)' .⁶⁵

Perhaps more serious were the objections Leo and his delegates raised to the way in which the resolution argued for the reasonableness of its measures. The framers of the text clearly went out of their way to suggest that all primacy in the Church, at least in the concrete details of its practice, is founded on political realities, and therefore must be adjusted as those realities change: 'The Fathers rightly recognized the prerogatives of Old Rome because that city reigned supreme; moved by the same purpose, the 150 bishops [at Constantinople, 381], beloved of God, gave the same prerogatives to the most holy throne of New Rome, rightly judging that a city honored by the imperial rule and by the Senate should enjoy equal privileges with the older royal Rome, and in ecclesiastical matters should be elevated as [Old Rome] is, being second after it ...'⁶⁶ Leo's repeated insistence, in the years that followed the Council, that the ancient order of the Churches, officially sealed by canon 6 of Nicaea, could never be changed,⁶⁷ seems to have grown out of his sense of the continuity and integrity of apostolic tradition, and of his consciousness of his own role as being, above all, the guardian of that tradition.68 His 'Petrine' office, as he understood it, was the obligation to be the personal and abiding foundation of a different, more lasting order than that of the Roman Empire. 'May the city of Constantinople have its own glory, as we hope,' he wrote to the Emperor Marcian in 452, 'and by the protection of God's hand may it enjoy your Clemency's constant imperial rule; nonetheless, the order (ratio) of the things of the world is one thing, and that of the things of God another, nor will there ever be a stable edifice except that built on the rock which the Lord laid as a foundation.'⁶⁹ It was not the confirmation of Constantinople's 7tpeaPeia Tfj<; uufji; in themselves, in other words, to which Leo objected in the Chalcedonian resolution—not to the establishment of Constantinople's 'pariarchal' jurisdiction of the northern dioceses and the areas beyond the frontier—but the resolution's attempt to rearrange the global order of precedence among the great sees which had been canonized by ecclesial tradition and the Council of Nicaea, and the subordination of the ecclesial to the political order that such an innovation, in his view, implied. The reasoning of the resolution opened the way to 'dissolving all the Church's rules (dissolvi omnes ecclesiasticas regulas)', he wrote to his Eastern representative, Bishop Julian of Kios, and in doing so it ultimately could only mean 'the destruction of the Church's constitution (excidium ecclesiastici status)'.⁷⁰

7. In the end, Anatolius and the Emperor did not insist on the reception of the Chalcedonian resolution as binding, and good relations between the Churches were restored.⁷¹ Nevertheless, the Bishops of Constantinople continued to make wide use of their ecclesiastical position, in both an 'honorary' and a 'real' way, during the decades that followed Chalcedon. Patriarch Acacius, for instance, himself ordained Calandion, a loyal Chalcedonian, as Bishop of Antioch in 479, during the early struggles over the reception of the Council, despite the accepted canons and the misgivings of Pope Simplicius.⁷² These actions may have been canonically irregular, but they were necessary for the continuity of Chalcedonian orthodoxy in those regions, as Simplicius himself conceded, and the Bishop of Constantinople took responsibility for them.⁷³ A decree of Emperor Zeno of 16 December, 477, revoking all the ecclesiastical legislation of the usurper Basiliscus during Zeno's forced exile, spoke of the Church of Constantinople as 'mother of our piety [i.e., of the Emperor himself!] and of all Christians of orthodox religion' and restored all the former 'prerogatives and titles (privilegia et honores)' which its bishops had 'over the creation of bishops and the right of being seated before others, and all the rest'.⁷⁴ During the late sixth century, too, Bishop Acacius of Constantinople was the first to use the title 'ecumenical Patriarch', a title also applied to the bishops of Rome and Antioch in sixth-century imperial correspondence, but later sharply rejected by Gregory the Great.⁷⁵ While the title probably denoted simply a Church leader of the highest rank, and of imperial rather than local importance,⁷⁸ its use suggests some sense of special pastoral responsibility towards the whole Church, as well as a justification for intervening even in the affairs of other Churches than one's own, in extraordinary circumstances.

The Emperor Justinian was capable of using both the traditional language of Roman 'primacy' and the newer, pragmatic dominance of Constantinople in the Eastern empire as 'second' see in the interests of his own plans for imperial reunification. A letter to Pope John I dated 5 June, 533—at the height of Justinian's attempts to reconcile the anti-Chalcedonian opposition within the Church—assures the Pope that 'we have taken steps that all bishops of the whole Eastern region should be subject to (subicere) and united with your holiness' see', and promises that he will keep the Pope informed of 'everything that pertains to the state of the Churches, ... since [your holiness] is head of all the holy Churches'.⁷⁷ The purpose of the letter is to win the Pope's seal of approval for Justinian's own reading of Chalcedonian Christology, which strongly emphasized the union of natures in the single divine hypostasis of the Son—a position Pope John was quite ready to confirm. Justinian, in turn, was willing to accord special favors to the Roman See, even in the Eastern empire, such as his extension of the legal privilege of praescriptio from 30 to 100 years for Papal properties there.⁷⁸ On the other hand, he formally confirmed the legislation of Constantinople I and Chalcedon on the 'second place' of the Bishop of 'New Rome', specifying that the bishop of the Eastern imperial capital should 'have a position of prior honor (rcpcmnaaGai =praeferatur), before all others'.⁷⁹ In practice, Justinian tended to treat the bishops of Rome simply as Patriarchs of the West,⁸⁰ and was not above changing the boundaries of their super-provincial jurisdiction,⁸¹ or even keeping Pope Vigilius under house arrest to force him to join in condemning the 'Three Chapters'. In matters of authority, the theologian-emperor was above all a politician.

²¹ COD 8; Tanner 8 f.

²² Since well before the time of Nicaea, the bishops of Alexandria apparently exercised extraordinary 'patriarchal' power in the provinces of Upper and Lower Egypt, Libya, and the Pentapolis, monitoring all episcopal elections and ordaining all the bishops of the region, as well as virtually controlling the doctrinal and liturgical life in these provinces. See E. Wipszycka, 'La chiesa nell' Egitto del IV secolo: le strutture ecclesiastiche', Miscellanea Historiae Ecclesiasticae VI: Les transformations dans la societe chretienne au IVe siecle (Congress of Warsaw, 1978; Brussels, 1983), 182—201; cf. R. Williams, Arius. Heresy and Tradition (London, 1987), 42-45, and further references cited there. On the original intent of the sixth canon of Nicaea, see H. Chadwick, 'Faith and Order at the Council of Nicaea: a Note on the Background of the Sixth Canon', Harvard Theological Review 53

²³ COD 8; Tanner 9.

²⁴ E.g., Jouassard (above, n. 3), 489.

²⁵ Eduard Schwartz, however, argued that the canons of Antioch should not be associated with the 'Dedication Synod' of 341 but with an earlier gathering, a few years after Nicaea itself: Zur Geschichte der Alten Kirche und ihres Rechts ( = Gesammelte Studien 4, Berlin, 1960), 163, n. 1; 189-97; 241 f.

²⁶ G. A. Rhalles and M. Potles, Syntagma ton Theion kai Hieron Kanonon 3 (Athens, 1853), 140 f.; the medieval Byzantine commentators point out the substantial agreement between this canon and Apostolic Canons 34, which probably was formulated later in the century {ibid.; cf. 2.45).

²⁷ See esp. Ritter (above, n. 2) 38 ff., 87 ff.; also Metropolitan Maximus of Sardis, Le Patriarcat oecumenique dans I'eglise orthodoxe. Etude historique et canonique (Theologie historique 32, Paris, 1975), 123 f.

²⁸ Synod of Antioch, cans. 12 and 14: Rhalles and Potles 3.146, 152.

²⁹ So can. 6 of Constantinople (COD 27 f.; Tanner 33 f.), which may well be the work of a synod held in that same city the following year, defines the 'greater synod' as that of all the bishops in a civil diocese: see Ritter 92, n. 1. Ritter rightly points out here that the interest of the Synod, in can. 2, is not so much to set up new organs of jurisdiction as to draw sharper limits to the spheres of influence in which any bishop may expect to operate.

³⁰ Depending on how the Greek is punctuated, can. 6 of Nicaea could also be taken as attributing to the Church of Antioch a special role of leadership in the diocese of Oriens, similar to that of Alexandria but not further defined. Constantinople, can. 2, clearly interprets the earlier canon in this sense: ' . . . The bishops of the Orient should administer only the Orient, with the seniority (npEdPsta) given to the Church of Antioch in t h e canons of Nicaea preserved ..." (COD 27.27-31; Tanner 31). Schwartz saw can. 6 of Nicaea not only as ambiguous, but as deliberately so: 'Der sechste nicaenische Kanon auf der Synode von Chalkedon', Sitzungsberichte der Preussischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, philosophisch- historische Klasse 27 (Berlin, 1930), 636 and n. 1. See also Chadwick (above, n. 22), 180-83.

³¹ For details of the increasingly active role of the bishops of Constantinople in the affairs of all the Eastern Churches from the 390s onwards, see Maximos of Sardis, 139—53.

³² Socrates, Hist. Eccl. 7.28. See Emil Herman, 'Chalkedon und die Ausgestaltung des konstantinopolitanischen Primats', Das Konzil von Chalkedon II, 472 ff.

³³ Codex Theodosiana 16.2.45, T. Mommsen (ed.) I 2, 2nd ed. (Berlin: 1854, 852); cf. Codex Justiniana 11.21.1, P. Krueger (ed.): Corpus Juris Civilis II (Berlin: 1888, 434).

³⁴ For an analysis of the geographical and political significance of the group of bishops who signed the resolution known as canon 28, see Schwartz, 'Der sechste nizanische Kanon' (above, n. 30), 614 f., n. 2.

³⁵ COD 7s f.; Tanner 99 f.; A C O I I , i , 4 4 7 , 1.28-448, I.17 ( G r e e k ) ; A C O I I , 3, 541, H.3—19 (Latin). This text is referred to in the Ada of Chalcedon simply as a 'resolution' (i|/fj(po<;), and probably was not intended to be a formal enactment of the whole synod, but rather a policy decision by the bishops of the dioceses of Asia, Pontus, Thrace, and Oriens, who were principally affected by it. It was not included in sixth-century Greek canonical collections, and was only 'received' as part of the canonical heritage by canon 36 of the Synod 'in Trullo', in 692. See Schwartz, ibid. 613. For a very full and nuanced recent discussion of the original intent and importance of this canon, with extensive bibliography, see A. De Halleux, 'Le decret chalcedonien' (above, n. 3), 288-323. On the dating of the discussion and enactment of the resolution, I have followed Eduard Schwartz; De Halleux (290, n. 9), however, returns to the more traditional dating of 30 Oct. and 1 Nov., 451, following E. Chrysos, "H Sidta^i^ tcov cjuveSpuov xf\c, iv X(XXKT|86VI OlKouueviKfji; Zuvooou', KXr|povouia 3 (1971), 275-81.

³⁶ So Herman (above, n. 32) 466 ff.; De Halleux 289. Maximos of Sardis prefers to take the phrase simply as a reference to long-standing tradition: Le patriarchal oecumenique (above, n. 27), 269.

³⁷ The word used here, arcoSeStbictxai, usually does not simply mean 'give' or 'accord', but suggests the repayment of a debt or the assignment of what is due; the verb used for the granting of 'equal prerogatives' to New Rome a few lines later, however, ineveiuav simply means 'assign', 'apportion'. The framers of the resolution were aware that they were canonizing a new institutional development. See De Halleux 289.

³⁸ For the text of these canons, see COD 67, 11.18-40; 71, 11.1-24; Tanner 91, 95; ACO II, 1, 356, H.5-13; 357, II.17-24 (Greek); ACO II, 3, 533, I.26-534, 1.3; 535, H.19-28 (Latin).

³⁹ Joannes Zonaras, commenting on can. 17 of Chalcedon, limits the right of bishops to choose to be judged by the Bishop of Constantinople to those living within his 'Patriarchal' area: i.e., those in the three 'northern' civil dioceses (PG '37-456A 2—11). For arguments of Byzantine and modern Orthodox canonists in favour of a broader interpretation, see Maximos of Sardis, 191—253.

⁴⁰ See S. Vailhe, 'La formation du patriarcat de Jerusalem', Echos'd'Orient 13 (1910), 325-36; Herman (above, n. 32), 478 f.

⁴¹ On the origin and character of the various versions of the Acta of Chalcedon, see especially Schwartz, 'Der sechste nicaenische Kanon' (above, n. 30), 615-26.

⁴² Greek: A C O I I , 1, 4 7 7 , I.15; L a t i n : A C O I I , 3 , 3 5 4 , I.12; 356, I.40.

⁴³ See Schwartz (above, n. 30), 627—31.

⁴⁴ Latin : A C O I I , 3 , 548, I.24; G r e e k : A C O I I , 1, 454, I.20.

⁴⁵ Greek: A C O I I , 1, 74, 11.19 f.; L a t i n : A C O I I , 3 , 4 9 , I.17. At session 3, Bishop Julian of Hypaipon refers to Dioscorus' authority in 449 as TO Kupoi; (Latin: primatum), and says the papal legate Paschasinus now possesses 'the authority (TO Kupb<;; primatum) of the most holy Leo' (Greek: ACO II, 1, 224, 11.5, 9; Latin: ACO I, 3, 304, H.4, 7).

⁴⁶ ACO II, 3, 173, H.s, 22 (for Greek riyeuoviav: ACO II, 1, 182, I.24 and 183, I.2); ACO II, 3, 165, I.22 (for Greek jipotcrtaaGoii: ACO II, 1, 176, I.19).

⁴⁷ ACO II, 4, 60, H.6-11 ( = Ep. 106.2: PL 54.1003 A11-B6).

⁴⁸ ACO II, 4, 74, II.1-3 ( = Ep. 119.3: PL 54.1043 A4-7).

⁴⁹ These bishops were: Romanus of Myra (Lycia, diocese of Asia); Seleucus of Amasea (Hellenopontus, diocese of Pontus); Peter of Gangra (Paphlagonia, diocese of Pontus); Marinianus of Synadoi (Phrygia Salutaris, diocese of Asia); and Critonianus of Aphrodisias (Caria, diocese of Asia). See ACO II, 1, 455 f. (Greek); ACO II, 3, 550 f. (Latin). Only the first three of these were metropolitan sees; the last two were ordinary bishoprics, in which the Bishop of Constantinople would no longer have ordination rights according to the new resolution.

⁵⁰ See the revealing, if rather rambling remarks of Eusebius, metropolitan of Ancyra (and apparently chief metropolitan or 'exarch' of the diocese of Pontus), in the same debate: while insisting that he has never had any desire to get involved in the business of episcopal ordinations personally, because of the conflicts involved, he suggests that the only way to prevent violence and bribery would be to canonize a system that allowed each provincial synod to solve its own problems internally. The agents of the Bishop of Constantinople quickly argue him down. See ACO II, 1, 456, I.31-457, 1-3' (Greek); ACO II, 3, 551, I.13-552, I.7 (Latin).

⁵¹ On the continued vitality of the patronage system in the late Roman Empire, both East and West, see F. Tinnefeld, Die friihbyzantinische Gesellschaft (Munich,•977). 42 f-; J.-U. Krause, Spatantike Patronatsformen im Westen des Romischen Retches (Munich, 1987), 8—20 (patronage of private individuals), 68—87 (patronage of cities); A. Demandt, Die Spatantike. Romische Geschichte von Diocletian bis Justinian (284-565 n. Chr. (Handbuch der Altertumswissenschaft 111/6, Munich, 1989), 286.

⁵² Greek: ACO II, 1, 456, 11.24—27 (xpECOOicov t(p 8pov(p TOUTQ) ... KOti Ttpocrcotaiac; f\ tKKkr\oin f\[i&v TETOXEV); Latin: ACO II, 3, 551, 11.1-3 (debitor huius sedis existens...et omne patrocinium nostra ecclesia promeretur). This language of indebtedness for favours from above echoes the classical Roman view of the attitude a client or protege should show towards his patron: see R. P. Sailer, Personal Patronage under the Early Empire (Cambridge, 1982), 15—18.

⁵³ Greek: ACO II, 1, 455, H.30-32; Latin: ACO II, 3, 550, H.8-10.

⁵⁴ Greek: ACO I, 1, 353, H.35-38; Latin: ACO II, 3, 439, H.i-5-

⁵⁵ Greek: ACO II, 1, 421, 11.27-30; Latin: ACI II, 3, 509, II.29-32. On the position of Chalcedon and Nicaea, as well as of Nicomedia, in the official Notitia Episcopatum of the Church of Constantinople in later centuries, see H.-G. Beck, Kirche und Theologische Literatur im Byzantinischen Reich (Munich, 1959), 165 f.

⁵⁶ On the early use of this title, see Maximos of Sardis (above, n. 27) 76 f.

⁵⁷ Greek: ACO I I , 1, 457, H.33-36; Latin: ACO I I , 3, 552, H.10-12.

⁵⁸ Greek: ACO II, 1, 457, H.36-40; Latin: II, 3, 552, H.12-15.

⁵⁹ Greek: A C O I I , 1, 4 5 8 , H.4-8; L a t i n : A C O I I , 3 , 552, 11.19-22.

⁶⁰ For classic discussions of the various levels of patronage or spheres of influence in which the Roman bishops exercised their power in the fourth and fifth century, see P. BatifTol, Cathedra Petri (Unam Sanctam 4, Paris, 1938), 41—79; and C. Vogel, 'Unite de l'eglise et pluralite des formes historiques d'organisation ecclesiastique du I He au Ve siecle,' in L'Episcopat et I'Eglise Vniverselle, Y. Congar and B.-D. Dupuy (eds.) (Unam Sanctam 39, Paris, 1962), 591—636.

⁶¹ ACO II, 3, 553, I.3; Greek: ACO II, 1, 458, II.20 f.

⁶² See De Halleux (above, n. 3) 300—304; Maximos of Sardis (above, n. 27) 253. Note Lucensius' sarcastic question, after hearing the draft of the resolution: 'They say this [privilege] was established eighty years ago. If they have made use of its prerogatives for all this time, what more do they need now? If they have never used them, why do they seek them?' see ACO II, i, 454, 11.3 f. (Greek); II, 3, 548, U.3—5 (Latin). Leo complained to the Empress Pulcheria, in fact, in July of 451, that Dioscorus and the synod of Ephesus (449) had stripped some people (presumably Flavian of Constantinople above all) of their privilegium honoris (ACO II, 4, 51, H.4—7); a t the third session of Chalcedon, the Roman legates charge Dioscorus with having 'taken the primacy into his own hands' (au9evTf|aot<;; praesumens sibi primatum) in receiving Eutyches into communion, so doing injury to both Leo and Flavian, who had lawfully excommunicated him! See ACO II, 1, 224, I.29 (Greek); ACO II, 3, 304, 11.26-28 (Latin).

⁶³ See J. Lebon, 'Les anciens symboles dans la definition de Chalcedoine', Revue d'histoire ecclesiastique 37 (1936), 809-76, esp. 810 f., 859 ff., 874; J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds (London, 1950), 299-305, 317 f., 322-31, 344-48.

⁶⁴ Rome had been unwilling to recognize the validity of the disciplinary canons of Constantinople I even at the time of their first enactment. The Roman synod of 382, held under Pope Damasus, responded to can. 3 of Constantinople by reaffirming the traditional order of the great sees implied in can. 6 of Nicaea. For the text of this Roman resolution, with commentary, see P.-P. Joannou, Die Ostkirche und die 'Cathedra Petri' im 4. Jahrhundert (Papste und Papsttum 3; Stuttgart, 1972), 285—89.

⁶⁵ ACO II, 3, 547, 11.23 '• (Latin). See Leo's similar remark in his letter to Anatolius of Constantinople of May 22, 452: ACO II, 4, 61, 11.13—18. The Greek text of the discussion of 30 October 451, significantly omits the suggestion that the third canon of Constantinople I was 'not officially received': ACO II, 1, 453. H-33 ff-

⁶⁶ Greek: ACO II, 1, 448, 11.3-9; Latin: ACO II, 3, 541, H.7-13.

⁶⁷ See, e.g., his letters to the Emperor Marcian, of 22 May 452: ACO II, 4, 56, H.20-27; to the Empress Pulcheria, of the same date: ibid. 58, I.33—59, I.2; to Anatolius, of the same date: ibid. 60, 11.16—21; 61, 11.1—9; to Julian of Kios, of the same date: ibid. 62, 11.14—17; to Maximus of Antioch, of 11 June 453: ibid. 73, H.34 £; 74, H.5—9.

⁶⁸ On Leo's understanding of his own 'Petrine' office primarily as guardian and proclaimer of the whole Church's continuing tradition, and particularly as defender of the work of earlier councils, see H.-J. Sieben, Die Konzilsidee der Alten Kirche (Paderborn, 1979), 124—35.

⁶⁹ ACOII, 4, 56, II.13-17.

⁷⁰ ACO II, 4, 62, II.16, 21 ( = Ep. 107: PL 53.1009 B13-16). For a revival of A. Wille's suggestion that Julian may be bishop of Kios in Bithynia, not far from Chalcedon and the capital, rather than from the Aegean island of Kos, see W. H. C. Frend, The Rise of the Monophysite Movement (Cambridge, 1972), 147, n. 2.

⁷¹ See the letter of Anatolius to Leo, April 454 (Leo, Epist. 132: PL 54.1084 A5-B7), and Leo's reply of 29 May 454 (Epist. 135: ACO II, 4, 88, 11.22-39).

⁷² See Simplicius' letters to Emperor Zeno on this issue, Collectio Avellana 66 and 67, O. Guenther(ed.), CSEL 35 (Vienna, 1895) 148,1.14-149,1.5; 150,11.1—22.

⁷³ On the growing dominance and active leadership of the Patriarchate of Constantinople, even in the regions traditionally dominated by Antioch and Alexandria, during the late fifth and sixth centuries, in the face of growing popular dissent against Chalcedonian Christology, see H.-G. Beck, 'Die Fruhbyzantinische Kirche', in H. Jedin (ed.), Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte II\2: Die Reichskirche nach Konstantin dem Grossen (Freiburg, 1982), 75 ff.

⁷⁴ Codex Justinianus 1.2.16, P. Krueger (ed.) (above, n. 33), 14B46-51. One should note again the connection here between the power to confirm and confer Church office and the publicly recognized rank or precedence of the one who has that power.

⁷⁵ For literature on this title, see Michel (above, n. 2) 494; more recently, see C. Dagens, 'L'eglise universelle et le monde oriental chez Gregoire le Grand', Istina 20 (1975), 457—75; A. Tuilier, 'Gregoire le Grand et le titre de Patriarche Oecumenique', in J. Fontaine, R. Gillet and S. Pellistrandi (eds.), Gregoire le Grand (Colloque de Chantilly, 1982; Paris, 1986), 69—81.

⁷⁶ So Henri Gregoire, 'Notules II: Patriarche ecumenique', Byzantion 8 (1933), 57O f.

⁷⁷ Codex Justinianus 1.1.8.9, "1 Krueger (above, n. 33) 11 A24f., 32—38.

⁷⁸ Nov. 9, of 13 April, 535, R. Schoell and G. Kroll (eds.), Corpus Juris Civilis III (Berlin, 1912), 91. The reason for this privilege is that Rome is both the 'source of laws' and the 'summit of the high priesthood' (summi pontificatus apex); it is only appropriate, then, for that priesthood to receive the law's special favour.

⁷⁹ Nov. 131.2, of 18 March, 545 (ibid. 655, 9—14).

⁸⁰ So Michel (above, n. 2), 494. On the development of the canonical theory of the Pentarchate, and of Patriarchal jurisdiction in general, see Maximos of Sardis (above, n. 28), 288—302. For astute reflections on the conception of Patriarchal jurisdiction in relation to traditional Latin ideas of Papal primacy, see Y. Congar, 'Le Pape comme patriarche d'Occident. Approche d'une realite trop neglige', Istina 28 (1983), 374-90.

⁸¹ See Nov. 11, of 14 May 535 (Schoell and Kroll 94), setting up a new, ecclesiastically independent region in the provinces south of the Danube, under the supervision of the bishop of his new city, Justiniana Prima. This limitation of the Roman see's authority came at about the same time as the grant of special privileges for Roman real estate mentioned above!

III. Concluding Reflections

This brief consideration of the origins of the phrase 'primacy of honor', and of its implications in the two centuries that surrounded its first use as a canonical term, raises many more issues than it has been possible even to touch on here: issues of authority and structure in general in the early Church, of the relations of East and West, of the developing roles of Popes and Patriarchs in late antiquity and the early Middle Ages.⁸² The purpose here has simply been to illustrate the original point: that what was at stake in these first discussions of 'primatial' privilege and power in the Church was not simply ceremonial practice or even 'moral' authority alone, but jurisdiction—practical leadership—in a very real sense. In fact, it seems that the distinction between authority and jurisdiction, that is between prestige or honor or status, on the one hand, and the ability to make decisions that bind—in other words, to end disputes and ratify elections, and to 'lay down the law'—on the other, was not at this time clearly made in many areas of Roman society, let alone in either the Eastern or the Western Churches.⁸³ In an age in which the patronage system still functioned, often under other names but nonetheless with reliable consistency,⁸⁴ and in an age, too, in which both synods and Patriarchs were struggling to regulate customary procedures and relationships with the limiting tools of canon law, the recognized position of an episcopal see was clearly a matter of effective influence, of 'office', as well as of rank. The reason that the 'primacy of honor' of the great sees, and the sequential ordering of that primacy in the universal Church, was important enough to argue about was precisely because it could—and, in some circumstances, did—make a practical difference.

Our difficulty, as modern Westerners, in grasping the full implications of the phrase 'primacy of honor' is mainly due, no doubt, to the fact that we live in societies in which honor and patronage are carefully distinguished—at least in theory—from the judicial and executive power that are defined by constitutions and realized in the impersonal functioning of bureaucracies. More deeply, perhaps, our difficulty lies in the ambiguity of authority itself. Leadership, influence on decisions that are made, and the role of being a pillar of ultimate recourse in times of crisis are all the charismatic qualities of extraordinary people, as much as they are the juridically definable roles of institutions.

Nevertheless, even this rapid survey of the language and legislation used to describe the developing role of the see of Constantinople among the Eastern Churches, its new 'priority' and its relationship to the traditionally recognized 'priority' of the older See of Rome, should make it clear that these early councils, bishops and emperors were struggling to define a structure of Church authority that would not simply rest on the personal charisms of individuals, or exhaust itself in ceremony alone. When the bishops who were gathered in Constantinople in 381, and in Chalcedon seventy years later, decreed that the bishop of the Eastern capital should have the Tipeapeioc ifj<; ti|ifj<; directly after the bishop of the older Rome, they were attempting, in a rather daring way, to assure and confirm for both of them a position of eminent and coordinated power within the rapidly evolving institutional structures of the Christian Church. Whatever use the Churches make of this hoary phrase today, in their delicate ecumenical discussions and in their own internal theological and structural renewal, they must also take into account the very concrete ecclesiological implications of its original meaning. If either 'primacy' or 'honor' are to be genuine, they must still imply the ability to make a practical difference.

⁸² A concise but classic account of the developing understanding of primacy in the Eastern and Western Churches, until the 'freezing' of positions on both sides in the scholasticisms of the thirteenth century, is F. Dvornik, Byzantium and the Roman Primacy (New York, 1965).

⁸³ So Perikles Joannou suggests that 'primacy' (which he defines as 'allgemeiner Vorrang') meant, in the fourth century, that its possessor was first of all a judge of last resort: 'hochster Richter im Glauben wie in der Disziplin'. Originally a matter of custom and only later codified by imperial legislation, such 'primacy' found its conceptual model in the role of the paterfamilias, 'der Vorrang des Familienaltesten', Die Ostkirche und die 'Cathedra Petri' (above, n. 64), 19. This same model lay behind the traditional understanding of patronage in civil society: see Sailer, Personal Palonage (above, n. 52), 7—39.

⁸⁴ See L. Harmand, he Patronal sur les collectivites publiques des origines au basempire (Paris, 1957), especially 467-73 (on the continuation of local and civic clientage in the Eastern empire, from the fourth through the tenth century). For a complete discussion of the ideology and functioning of patronage, both personal and civic, in Roman society, see R. P. Sailer (above, n. 52); P. D. Garnsey and R. P. Sailer, The Roman Empire. Economy, Society and Culture (Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1987), 148—59; and A. Wallace-Hadrill (ed.), Patronage in Ancient Society (London and New York, 1989).