A
Celebration of Living Theology: A Festschrift in Honour of Andrew Louth
Authority
and Doctrinal Normation in Patristic Discourse:
The
Nicene Creed at the First Council of Ephesus
pp.
20 – 38
Thomas
Graumann
In Andrew Louth’s wide-ranging Patristic
scholarship, a question of fundamental theological significance may be detected
as being repeatedly examined: What constitutes and legitimates theological
discourse beyond the restating of what has already been said before, and what
frames, underpins and limits such expansive systematic reflection? The
possibility of advancing theological thinking, even in a traditional mode, is
demonstrated in exemplary fashion in the recovery of the distinct theological
‘originality’ of John of Damascus. The famous quotation from the prooemium of his so-called Fountain Head
of Knowledge – ‘I shall say nothing of my own, but collect together into one
the fruits of the labours of the most eminent teachers and make a compendium‘–
may seem to mark him out as the proponent of a purely restrictive notion of
tradition par excellence. However, it is taken in Andrew’s seminal study as a
key stimulus for a discussion of John’s approach and thought much more
sensitive to the subtle and complex nuancing and appropriation of this
tradition, helping to reveal the dynamics of ‘Tradition and Originality in
Byzantine Theology’ which the book’s subtitle announces.1 Moving beyond the stereotypes of past
scholarship on John, it rediscovers the creative operations of the theological
mind and the way it seeks to support itself on the central pillars and unshaken
foundations of theological enquiry. Tradition as a starting point and guiding
principle of theological reflection is also a central concern in Andrew’s
introductory portrait of the other great figure of early Byzantine theology –
Maximus the Confessor. Maximus ‘way of thinking alerts us to the relationship
between faithfulness to tradition and the potential of original theological
thinking within certain legitimate boundaries, and to the main elements
involved in this difficult balancing act. Maximus ‘displays . . . [a] theological
mind, drawing on Scripture and all that is meant in Orthodox Christianity by
Tradition – the Fathers, the councils, spiritual experience. . .’.2 Tradition, in this equation, with all the
complexity of the aspects and ingredients that make up the notion, appears, to
me, to be the major challenge for any discussion of theological norms and the
processes and principles by which to authenticate doctrinal reflection and
discourse. Arguably, this problem is one of the main driving forces behind the
transformation of the Patristic heritage into the scholastic modes of theology
in the Medieval West, and signals one of the major fault lines in the disputes
of the Reformation Era and the early modern ‘Confessional’ age.3
The following brief
investigation has no aspirations to contribute to a systematic exploration of
the norms, authorities, limits and presuppositions of contemporary theological
enquiry, let alone a distinct Orthodox perspective on the matter. Rather, in
the historical mode, it aims to illustrate just one small but significant
component of the problem. The historical test-case in focus here is the
‘canonization’ of the Nicene Creed at the First Council of Ephesus, which now
merits closer inspection.
The relevant conciliar
decision comes to pass within an extended process of nascent theological
reflection on the conditions of its own possibility, prompted by the
Trinitarian and Christological disputes. The triangulation of scripture,
Fathers and councils in this process, suggested by Andrew’s reading of Maximus
as decisive – accounting for spiritual experience proves rather more difficult
in historical examination – is gradually worked out over the course of the
fourth and early fifth centuries as the principal method to legitimize
doctrinal discussion and authorize its results as orthodox. Creeds for the most
part stand in for the cypher ‘councils’ in this process but creeds can also be
used, and claimed, as a summary of the tradition of the Fathers, and, in
individual instances, creeds through citation and allusion arguably also
provide specific reference to the scriptures. The strategies and
presuppositions of doctrinal normation in the demarcation of orthodoxy are,
however, not always self-consciously deliberated.4
It is the Council of
Ephesus in 431 that takes precedence in this respect, for, in addition to the
condemnation of Nestorius, it issued the first formal decision (horos) of its
kind. For the first time, a council explicitly took up a position vis-à-vis the
question of doctrinal norms, and decreed a certain standard for deliberation
and decision-making that went beyond the constant and almost stereotypical
assertions made on many earlier occasions about the need to conform to
scripture.5 This decision is
eminently pertinent, in principle, to the problem of authoritative teaching,
its grounding and limitations, and proved to be, historically, of far-reaching
consequence for subsequent doctrinal deliberations and debates generally, and
conciliar definition in particular. We refer, of course, to the canonization of
the Nicene Creed as the sole and sufficient norm of Orthodoxy set out in what
later canonical collections list as the so-called ‘Canon 7’ of Ephesus.6 That this ‘canonization‘ should have happened
in circumstances where the council’s own legitimacy was hotly contested from
the outset emphasizes the need for a closer historical examination into the
likely motivations and purposes behind this ruling.
The decision to
canonize the Nicene Creed in this way was taken in a meeting of a group of
bishops who associated themselves with Cyril of Alexandria, held on 22 July,
four weeks after the initial condemnation of Nestorius and amid the turmoil
that followed it.7 However, the
Nicene Creed had already played a significant role in the dealings of the
council, notably in the condemnation of Nestorius, as has been observed many
times in scholarship.8 Here, once the
initial turmoil caused by the challenges to Cyril’s initiative to gather a
meeting on 22 June (not reported in the acts of the meeting) had settled, and
the substantive agenda was entered into, Bishop Juvenal of Jerusalem asked for
the recitation of the Creed in a rather matter-of-fact way, without providing
any justification and without elaborating on the purpose of this motion.9 Its function nonetheless soon became clear in
that, subsequently, the orthodoxy first of Cyril’s Letter to Nestorius and then
of Nestorius’ response was examined against the standard of the Creed.10
The seeming
inevitability, then, of starting any theological enquiry on the basis of the
Nicene Creed, and of ultimately returning to it, after a four-week interval,
when summing up conciliar business by a solemn affirmation of the Creed, may in
fact cloud rather than illuminate the precise historical contexts of the
council’s contentious and contested activities. For it is these activities
which account for this remarkable self-positioning, and which allow a rather
more distinct evaluation of what the canonization of the Nicene Creed both
tried to achieve, and to what it in fact amounted.
Indeed, the council was
contentious from the start, and it remained hotly contested for the entirety of
the period of the bishops’ activities in Ephesus (and at the court) during the
summer of 431, and for some time after that. We need to examine more closely
the history of that period to appreciate fully that the famous Canon 7, which
declared the sufficiency of the Nicene formulation of orthodoxy, was much more
than a simple reaffirmation of the obvious, and yet also, perhaps, initially
much less than an absolute prescription of the limitations of doctrinal
definition and expression for all future discussion. At the same time, the
circumstances provide us with a pertinent insight into the principles operative
in the council’s doctrinal deliberations, and the way in which doctrinal
normation and authorization were being carefully negotiated – if not always
fully and consciously reflected – in the process.
The task set before the
council, then, adumbrated initially in the imperial letters of convocation, and
subsequently spelled out more clearly in the imperial instructions read out to
the council by the infelicitous imperial envoy Candidianus at the beginning of
the session of 22 June, was principally to discuss and examine the issues
threatening rupture in the church and damaging the stability and welfare of the
empire.11 The imperial sacra is
concerned chiefly with the fair and amicable conduct of this undertaking,
without so much as hinting at a desired outcome beyond regaining peace and
unity. This lack of specific guidance and – it is argued – the purposeful
restraint avoids not only taking sides, but even leaves it to the council to
determine in what way the problem might be solved. Only one thing is expressed
rather more specifically: the request that there be consideration of ‘the truth‘
or ‘true doctrine‘ or ‘dogma’; this, in fact, is pointed out as the sole
purpose of the council, setting aside engagement with all other grievances and
challenges.12
The rather generic and, in a sense, self-evident expectation is voiced
that the council’s conclusions ought to be in accord with ‘orthodox religion’.13 Nothing else could reasonably be expected.
There is no attempt to be any more specific on what might constitute orthodoxy
or on what basis it might be deliberated or in what form it might be expounded.
What is all the more
interesting then is that a number of actors on the Ephesine stage, and on all
sides of the doctrinal divide, invariably understood this imperial instruction
to refer to the Nicene Creed – even if tacitly. Thus, in his protests written
against the Cyrillian part-council, immediately after it had declared his
deposition, Nestorius summed up his understanding of what the emperor had
charged the bishops to do.14 He emphasized as the central imperial demand the need
of a ‘joint meeting of all’, at which the bishops ‘by a joint decree confirm
the Creed of the holy fathers convened at Nicaea’.15 In stark contrast to his own compliance, so he
complains, the Egyptians chose to disobey imperial orders ‘for in the letter
sent out by your piety you said that a single concordant faith should be issued
by all, corresponding to the writings of the evangelists and the apostles and
the doctrines of the holy fathers’.16 Theodosius had not been so specific.
The council of the
oriental bishops also makes a similar point after their belated arrival in
Ephesus.17 Having
heard the imperial sacra read to them, Bishop John of Antioch summarizes it to
the assembly, and makes an important addition. According to his understanding
of what he just heard, the sacra demanded an ‘exact examination and
confirmation of the pious faith of the holy and blessed fathers who assembled
at Nicaea in Bithynia’.18 Nicaea was not mentioned in the sacra but, it
appears, was readily understood to be meant by its references to orthodoxy and
holy doctrine. That the Creed of Nicaea described the standard of orthodoxy and
that any doctrinal decision could only consist in its confirmation therefore seems
the unquestioned assumption of all; hence, it was read into the emperor’s
rather more general statement. The emperor’s representative, the Count
Candidianus, also takes this understanding for granted when reporting back to
the court: not only the churchmen, and certainly not only the eastern bishops,
drew this conclusion. In Candidianus’ report about his efforts to prevent the
meeting on 22 June from going ahead, the comes is also rather more specific on
the question of orthodoxy than the emperor’s instructions had been.19 He expresses
his firm conviction that the emperor’s desire was the ‘confirmation of the
faith’.20 This
might entail, as one option, that the council could find that ‘they all equally
professed correctly according to the religion of the holy fathers’.21 Once again,
the presupposed notion of orthodoxy behind this phrase is one that describes it
as that of ‘the fathers’, and even though Nicaea is not specifically mentioned,
the fact that in the other statements just examined the ideas of the Fathers
and the Nicene Council virtually fuse into one, suggests that Candidianus too
may have understood the Nicene Creed as the archetypal expression of the
religion of the Fathers. What ‘confirming Nicaea‘ meant in reality, and what
kind of theological exposition could be considered its most adequate
expression, was of course the centrally contested issue between the conflicting
parties.
These immediate
responses to the sacra, all written within a week of the fateful events of the
meeting of 22 June in which it was read to the bishops joining Cyril (or its
respective reading to the bishops in alliance with John of Antioch at their
meeting on 26 June) thus allow us to surmise that references to ‘orthodoxy’
were on all sides immediately equated with (an as-yet contested understanding
of) the Nicene Creed. This sentiment may have been in line with Emperor
Theodosius’ unspoken presumptions. More importantly, the evidence suggests that
it expresses the prevailing ecclesiastical mentality at the time, cutting
across the ‘party-lines‘ in the Christological dispute, and also characteristic
of the religious presuppositions operative in imperial administration. In fact,
this emphasis cannot come as a surprise.
After confessing
allegiance to ‘Nicaea‘ had already become the minimum requirement for the
rapprochement of a number of religious ‘parties‘ in the 360s, the
Constantinopolitan Council of 381 had after all – in the words of the historian
Socrates – ‘strengthened’ the Nicene Creed,22 thus making it the official declaration of orthodoxy
in the Theodosian Church and Empire. Thus we find in the later decades of the
fourth and into the fifth century, repeated allusion to credal formulae
considered to be Nicene, even if they did not always conform exactly to the
wording originally set out in the council of 325 (nor to the Creed of 381).23
Against this
background, the correct understanding of the Nicene Creed had already played a
major role in the epistolary confrontation between Cyril and Nestorius before
the council24 – and it is for this
reason that the test applied to their letters during the meeting represents an
effective and plausible procedure. Nestorius, furthermore, had discussed the
Creed in his sermons even before that25
and Cyril had criticized his interpretation of it in the Contra Nestorium as
early as 430.26
Importantly, this
interpretation of the council’s remit – as being charged to confirm the faith
of the Fathers and specifically the Nicene Creed – was specifically held up in
protest against the meeting of 22 June led by Cyril, which had allegedly violated
both ecclesiastical custom and imperial instructions rather than enacting this
expectation. Unsurprisingly, Nestorius contrasts the expected confirmation of
the faith of the Fathers in unison and accord, with the partiality and
procedural flaws of that meeting.27 Bishop
John, in the meeting of the Syrians on 26 June, speaks of the confirmation of
Nicaea as of one of those elements in the imperial instruction that Cyril chose
to ignore and hold in contempt, and asks his part-council to determine the
appropriate sanction.28 In response,
the Oriental council collectively lists this and other trespasses by Cyril and
Memnon as intended to prevent examination of the ‘heretical‘ doctrines
contained in the Twelve Chapters.29 These
they consider to corrupt the faith of the Fathers, so the avoidance of engaging
with them already amounts to a failure to confirm to that faith. In complete
accord with this sentiment, John suggests stipulating the following terms for
the reconciliation of all the bishops involved in Cyril’s ploy: (1) the
anathematization of the Chapters, and (2) the profession, rather, of the Nicene
Creed, ‘introducing nothing different from it or alien to piety’.30 This contrast between the Chapters and the
Nicene Creed, and the implied suggestion that the Chapters introduce ‘something
different‘ from it will mark the stance of the bishops in alliance with John of
Antioch throughout the following weeks and months, and can be heard as a
general base in all their pronouncements.
Their letter, for example,
to the clergy of Constantinople repeats the demand for condemnation of the
Chapters and to ‘sincerely accept‘ the Nicene Creed – the notion of sincerity
introduces a small but important qualification behind which the difficulty of
the Creed’s authentic interpretation already raised its head.31 Confirmation of the faith of the Fathers,
thus, might not necessarily consist in the simple restatement of the Nicene
Creed alone. In their letter to the senate, they talk of their opponents‘ necessary
’recovery‘ of the Nicene Creed,32 and
the letter to the urban laity demands their ‘return‘ to it.33 In all these statements, it is the implied
juxtaposition with the damnable Chapters that has, in the view of the
Orientals, turned the Cyrillians away from the Nicene Creed, and which requires
them to recover it. However, they do not offer any firm statement about how
this alleged move away from Nicaea and towards the heresy of the Chapters found
expression in the meeting of 22 June. It is, rather, the fact that the
positions outlined in the Chapters had remained unchallenged that alone
sufficed to make this claim. For Orientals such as Theodoret, the Chapters
consisted of heretical violations of, and additions to, the faith of the Nicene
Creed, and this is what they had come to Ephesus determined to expose and
condemn.34
Both sides, then, in
reality took the Nicene Creed to be the unquestioned and unquestionable
expression of orthodoxy and the starting point and yardstick in any doctrinal
discourse. But that conviction served as justification for diametrically
opposed strategies and objectives. The Creed gained a specific critical
potential for Cyril and his allies in that it was brought to bear against
Nestorius in the session of 22 June once its Cyrilline use and interpretation –
as set out in his Second Letter to Nestorius – had been accepted.35 In contrast, the easterners mustered the
Creed against the alleged heretical innovations and additions found in the
Twelve Chapters and a meeting, which had failed to expose them. In this way
both sides talked past each other and disputed both the Creed’s proper
application, and its consequences for the current debate, while sharing in
unspoken agreement the assumption of its authoritative status.
The importance of
adhering to the Nicene Creed as the description of one’s own position and in
identifying the critical failure of one’s opponents gained an increasingly
acute political edge with the repeated imperial interventions over the
following weeks. By sending additional missives and further high-ranking
officials to Ephesus, the emperor tried to rescue a council that – if viewed
from an imperial stance – had descended into turmoil and was threatening to
become a dismal failure.
Theodosius angrily
demanded, on 29 June, to receive the minutes of the meeting of 22 June. In the
response written by the council on 1 July, the council insists that it had, in
fact, conducted the examination of doctrine required by the earlier sacrae in
that they had measured Nestorius against the Nicene Creed.36 Over the following weeks, this defence
becomes ever more forcefully repeated in response to the increasingly raised
tone of criticism by the easterners, who continued to allege the council’s
failure in conducting a proper examination, and in their violation of the
traditional faith. When the Cyrilline council reported to Theodosius about
their later meetings of 16–17 July, it made the same point once more,
expressing first of all and emphatically their complete confidence in having
fulfilled the task set before them: ‘We have clarified for your piety the
apostolic faith expounded by the 318 assembled at Nicaea and deposed Nestorius
whose beliefs were contrary to it.’37
This report, drafted by Juvenal of Jerusalem, projects a sense of closure. The
council reports its entire business over the past weeks, starting from the
deposition of Nestorius, now almost a month ago, right down to its present
reinstatement of Cyril and Memnon – quite unnecessary, they affirm, since their
calumnious so-called deposition by the easterners had always been null and void
– and the necessary deposition of John and his followers.38 The report summarizes all activities and
decisions with apparent satisfaction and a noticeable sense of finished
business. Over and above what had already been negotiated, nothing, it seems,
remained to be done. Another report to the Pope, probably written concurrently
with it,39 equally reads like a
closing statement and entails in equal measure information and justification of
the council’s activities.
This self-satisfaction
contrasts markedly with the sentiments expressed by the easterners at the same
time. Recent developments must have marked the nadir of their struggles. On
learning of the Cyrillian report to Theodosius, they immediately, and in great
haste and alarm, sent a counter-report after the Count Irenaeus, who had
already departed from Ephesus with a bundle of their messages to the emperor.40 Hoping for their messengers to catch up with
Irenaeus in time, they charge him to deliver the document to the emperor
together with those handed to him earlier. In this hasty report, their
exasperation and despair shines through their repeated ridiculing and
disparaging of the activities of the Cyrillians. Nothing seemed able to prevent
or stop the Cyrilline juggernaut, and their own efforts appeared to remain
completely without resonance. It is in this document, marking their lowest ebb,
that the Orientals' self-confessed positioning as defenders of the Nicene Creed
gains added poignancy. They put the Creed at the beginning of the letter,41 presenting it
thereby not just as a preface to all they have to say, but making it, in
effect, their charter. Correspondingly, the letter concludes by imploring the
emperor to order the signing of this Creed by all bishops, in place of any
misguided attempts at doctrinal formulation in Ephesus, and so effectively to
cancel out all such recent attempts. For the first time in the surviving
documents, they not only repeat the formulaic warning not to add to the Creed,
but also provide an explanation or illustration of the specific critical
assertions that must not be allowed to be added to it: ‘In addition to this, we
beseech your piety to order everyone to sign the Creed of Nicaea, which we have
placed at the beginning of this our letter, and to add nothing alien to it,
neither asserting that our Lord Jesus Christ was a mere man (for he is perfect
God and perfect man), nor making Christ's Godhead passible; for both are
equally reckless.42
The rejection of these
two statements is entirely in keeping with Antiochene’ theology; yet it
responds at least in part also to the constant accusations levelled against
Nestorius – namely, that he taught Christ to be a mere man. The pairing
‘perfect God’ and perfect man is of course their preferred concept, found later
in the Formula of Reunion, and consistently thereafter.43
It is in this
highly-conflicted context that we must place the gathering of the Cyrilline
supporters on 22 July, just a few days after the sending of these reports by
both sides. This session decreed the momentous Canon 7.44 The minutes of
the meeting are a problematic blend of material from the session of 22 June,
four weeks earlier, and the disciplinary case of one Charisius, a former
Quartodeciman schismatic, which provides the opportunity to present for
condemnation a declaration of faith, known to be authored by Theodore of Mopsuestia
but remaining anonymous in the minutes.45 The minutes, whatever we think of the way they
represent actual events, now provide a much clearer rationale for what the
earlier meeting against Nestorius had done (which had not demonstrated much
conceptual or procedural clarity or reflection). This time, the Nicene Creed is
read out with the explicit acknowledgment of its doctrinal sufficiency.46 Yet the
dangers of misinterpretation and adherence in words only are also pointed out,
and quotations from the Fathers are adduced as authoritative guides and as
assurances of an orthodox reading.47 This model of legitimate dogmatic reflection as
resting firmly on the basis of the Creed, and guided authoritatively by the
Fathers, has informed doctrinal discourse in the ancient church and beyond.
When, later, the case of the Quartodecimans shows how a problematic ekthesis
came to be used in their reconciliation with the church, the condemnation of
such practice results in the decree (horos) known as Canon 7.48 No examination
of the theology of the ekthesis is recorded, yet its apparent difference from
the Nicene Creed is alleged in the canon by the sheer juxtaposition between the
two49 and subsequently reinforced by
the repeated condemnation of Nestorian thought and – likely as an editorial
addition50 – the introduction of
appended extracts documenting his errors.51
The horos reads:
When, therefore, this
had been read, the holy council laid down that no one is allowed to produce or
write or compose another creed beside the one laid down with the aid of the
Holy Spirit by the holy fathers assembled at Nicaea, and that as regards those
who dare to compose another creed, or produce or present it to those wishing to
turn to the knowledge of the truth whether from paganism or Judaism or any form
of heresy, they, if they are bishops or clerics, are to be expelled, the
bishops from episcopacy and the clerics from the clergy, while if they are
laymen they are to be anathematized. In the same way, if any are found, whether
bishops or clerics or laymen, either holding or teaching the things contained
in the exposition of the incarnation of the only-begotten Son of God presented
by the presbyter Charisius, or the abominable and perverted doctrines of
Nestorius, which are also appended, they are to be subjected to the verdict of
this holy and ecumenical council, with the result, clearly, that a bishop is to
be stripped of episcopacy and deposed, a cleric is likewise to be expelled from
the clergy, while if he is a layman, he too is to be anathematized as has been
stated above.52
What is prohibited in this way by the horos, is in a
narrow and specific sense the usage of another declaration, such as the
incriminated ekthesis, for the conversion of pagans, Jews and heretics or
schismatics. The horos declares the condemnation of a distinct practice, it
does not prescribe, however, the closure of all further dogmatic discussion or
declaration; nor does it stipulate adherence to the precise wording
of the Creed of 325.53 Rather, the very start of the minutes from which the
horos is taken acknowledges the continual difficulty and necessity of the
Creed’s interpretation and recognizes the need for authenticating this process.54 While it makes
no mention of the earlier approbation of Cyril’s letter, this very process
could be seen to illustrate the way in which the Creed’s effective canonization
left open – even more, demanded – its continuous re-thinking and interpretative
appropriation after the model of the Fathers. Indeed, it was this practice that
alone was able to guard it against abuse and error. Once separated from this
context, the Canon could be read in a much more restrictive vein as potentially
precluding any additional statements from the delineation of orthodoxy – as is
already the case in the second council of Ephesus.55
The story of the Nicene
Creed in the disputes over authentic theology, its content and conduct, does
not finish here even for the Ephesine council itself. Surprisingly, the
decision taken by the Cyrillians is not referred to in the ongoing dispute. The
strategy of the easterners, in turn, adumbrated in their report rushed to
Irenaeus, seems to have struck a cord with the court. Irenaeus reports back to
them somewhat hastily – and ultimately prematurely – that this position won the
day,56 and
a sacra sent by Theodosius through the Count John in August accordingly confirms
the deposition of Nestorius, Cyril and Memnon, while underlining his own
unwavering attachment to the orthodoxy, ‘which we received from our fathers and
forebears and which the most holy council in the time of Constantine of divine
memory concordantly confirmed’.57
Count John orally
instructed both sides that the emperor thus expected an exposition of their
respective positions, which probably meant not simply a response ‘on the
question of the holy Virgin Theotokos‘ (as the Orientals put it58), but a position-paper on the dispute in
general. Both sides replied to the sacra. The Cyrillians (now in effect led by
Juvenal of Jerusalem), after much complaint about the unjust ‘deposition‘ of
Cyril and Memnon and about the outrages of the Orientals, simply restated their
affirmation that the faith had been clarified in their meeting against
Nestorius and that the Nicene Creed had been given pride of place in the
context. Nothing else, we may infer, was required.59 It may seem surprising that no mention is made of the
meeting and ruling about the sufficiency of the Nicene Creed on 22 July, or of
the arguments produced in the context, which ostensibly would have made a much
stronger case.
In contrast, the
Orientals delivered an extensive discussion of their relationship to the Nicene
Creed, and its relevance to the matters in hand, before eventually providing a
short formulary of their Christological thinking. This would become the
foundation of the Formula of Reunion agreed two years later. This response is
the most explicit and important statement of self-confessed Nicene
Christological orthodoxy emanating from Ephesus during the summer of 431, and
deserves to be quoted at length.
What is more important
than everything – they write to the emperor – is your authority's command in
the letter itself for the removal of the causes of offence insinuated into the
orthodox faith by some and for the use, as rule and norm, of the creed formerly
issued by the fathers at Nicaea, which, containing nothing defective or
superfluous, presents salvation in summary, comprehending in a few words
everything that the divine scriptures have handed down to us about piety, and
banishing the beliefs of those who want to innovate for us and have wandered
off into error.60
As a necessary consequence, they repeat their
zealous desire for ‘throwing out' Cyril's Chapters, and report how they had
urged the opposing party to join them in signing the Creed. Yet having failed
to persuade them, they moved on their own to acknowledge this orthodox Creed as
immaculate, to subscribe to it and reject in written confession that bizarre
issuing of the Chapters.61 In what follows, they expound the sufficiency of the
Nicene Creed, which they underscore repeatedly. The Creed hands down a ‘precise
definition of the economy’ in that it teaches firmly and unwaveringly the true
Godhead of the Only-begotten from which may be also deduced (in accord with the
scriptures) that our Lord Jesus Christ is not a mere man but truly Son of God.62 This, of
course, is hardly an exhaustive answer to the questions disputed between the
parties. Still, they go on: ‘We therefore, following them, neither add nor
subtract anything from the Creed and the exposition of this confession, since
the exposition of the fathers suffices for everything.’63
On this firm ground,
and only after the repeated insistence of not in any way adding or subtracting
from the Creed, they address the emperor's demand for a profession of faith on
the subject of the holy Virgin Theotokos.64 And so, after prayer for divine assistance and
emphatically asserting not to be speaking by human standards, they profess,
obligingly, what scripture has taught them.65 The following formula is in this way heavily guarded,
and the effort of theological clarification and profession is only ventured
into in the context of prayer. There could hardly be a more intensive and full
evocation of all safeguards against error. This is not the voice of the
confident intellectual or the inquisitive theologian — both stereotypical
attitudes of the heretic – but of the humble, prayerful hearers of Holy
Scripture, readers and followers of the Fathers and guardians of the Nicene
Creed. The formula thus prefaced is in essence the same that will be agreed two
years on in the Reunion, professing Mary Theotokos, asserting the double
consubstantiality of the Incarnate Son with respect to his Godhead and Manhood,
the unmixed union of two natures and, emphatically, confession of one Christ,
one Son, One Lord.
It is essential to
underline that the formula is framed not only by the prefatory remarks about
the status of the declaration in relation to the Nicene Creed as the sufficient
expression of orthodoxy, but is also followed by a concluding paragraph that
insists once more on the firm tradition of this profession, which they make
‘having been taught these things by the theologians, evangelists, apostles,
prophets and those who in their time were teachers of the pious faith.’66
Its resultant demand is
for the emperor to impress upon the bishops the rejection of Cyril's theology
and to subscribe only to the confession of the holy fathers convened at Nicaea.67 In other
words, the profession offered by way of explanation about their position in the
present theological controversy does not result in the demand for the
stipulation of this formula (or any other new propositional text on the
matter), but rather in demanding nothing beyond the Nicene Creed. This
criterion also explains the rejection of Cyril, whose principal fault,
according to their analysis, lies precisely in the effort (from their
perspective both flawed and ineffective) of seeking conciliar authorization for
certain additional statements.
The following weeks
were characterized by turmoil and strife, as a result of the parties’ mutual
accusations and condemnations, both in Ephesus and in Constantinople at the
imperial court. Yet, amid the complaints about harassment, and in the lobbying
and desperate calls for support, matters of doctrinal import receive little
mention. Nothing in the surviving documents of the time goes beyond the (by now
already rather formulaic) vilifications of Nestorius on the one side, and the
equally repetitive condemnations of Cyril’s Twelve Chapters and their alleged
Apollinarianism on the other. Sophisticated reflection on the authority of the
Nicene Creed and on the methodologies, hermeneutics and procedures by which to
employ it in aid of an ever more improbable solution to the crisis may not be
expected and are indeed not in evidence.68 Despite this general caution, the continuing silence
over Canon 7 remains noteworthy and puzzling.
What, then, might the
historical enquiry into the contexts and modes of claiming the Nicene Creed in
the Ephesine council contribute to the question of how to conduct and authorize
theological discussion and relate it to normative expressions of faith? We can
hardly be content to note that, as ever, things are more complex, and murky,
than is apparent by paying attention solely to the abstracted decisions
gathered in collections of the decrees of Ecumenical Councils or canonical
collections. Yet the second council of Ephesus, and that of Chalcedon shortly
thereafter, did just that – reading the canon (or horos) as a general
prescription limiting theological enquiry and definition.69
Guarding against such
abstraction, it is important to realize, first, that the majoritarian Cyrillian
council was neither distinctive nor exclusive in laying claim to Nicene
Orthodoxy. Against the swirl of accusations and protests by the Orientals,
their promulgation of Canon 7 can be seen as a defensive (and retrospective)
justification of their activities on 22 June; and as a defence, also, against
the accusations of having departed from the Nicene Creed by the affirmation of
Cyril’s orthodoxy (and, indeed, a specific text) on the occasion. Yet, the move
may equally be considered in a more expansive, even aggressive, way: as
precluding any conceivable declaration of Christological orthodoxy by the
Orientals set up against, mainly, Cyril’s Twelve Chapters, and as preventing
any other envisaged attempt to enshrine Antiochene principles in an
authoritative statement of whatever kind.70 The concomitant refutation of the anonymous Ekthesis
(known to be authored by Theodore of Mopsuestia) put a stop to any attempts in
this direction – if indeed the Orientals had shown any appetite for such an
endeavour. In fact, they did not – rather, they were the first to insist on the
exclusive signing of the Nicene Creed, in a clearly restrictive measure against
the Cyrilline doctrinal propositions and the ‘heretical’ move away from the
Creed that they detected in the anathemas. Signing the Nicene Creed was
sufficient ground for them to re-establish communion because they perceived in
it an implied rejection of the entire work of the session of 22 June and whatever
it entailed for the laying down of doctrinal definition. If the Cyrilline
message of 22 July was that the sufficiency of the Nicene Creed allowed no
other declaration of faith, it required, nevertheless, interpretative guarding
by the Fathers. The easterners, in contrast, demonstrated in their response to
the emperor’s wishes for clarification, that a new declaration achieving this
might just about be possible, if only its status in relation to the Nicene
Creed was sufficiently clarified as one completely subservient to it, and as
offering nothing that might be construed as an addition or modification. This
strategy the council of Chalcedon would later also adopt.
Placing it in the
turmoilofa split council, it is suggested, expresses best the sense in which
the necessary attachment and orientation towards the Nicene Creed were
conceived of in Ephesus, rather than focusing on one party’s exclusive – and
deceptively calm – declaration. The lasting tension and dynamic interaction
between the needs for restriction and expansion in doctrinal discussion (and
behind the canonization of the creed), are reflected, argued and fought over
even more determinedly and forcefully than in the initial disputes over the
Nicene Creed in the fourth century. In the canonization of the Nicene Creed,
the principal discussion about the norms and limits of theological definition
reaches a decisive step. The process effects an unshakable foundation and fixed
point of reference for subsequent discussion. Yet it is anything but rigid or
ossified. Rather like in the dynamics of ‘tradition and originality’ – to
conclude with Andrew’s words – the apparently restrictive canonization of the
Nicene Creed comes with the simultaneous realization of its need for interpretation
and is, thus, immediately opened up again for further reflection and even for
the possibility of distilling the results of such reflection into doctrinal
statements in the future. The Orientals already do this in Ephesus during the
summer of 431; Cyril in effect endorses the practice and concurs with it when
agreeing to the Formula of Reunion two years later, and the Council of
Chalcedon makes it the lynchpin of its complex layering of authoritative texts
meant to support, hedge and guard what they are willing to say in their own
voice. The historical investigation, it is hoped, shows the intrinsic dynamic
and dialectic, the continuing conversation between different voices, in the
very making of a canon that only seemingly disallows it.
1 John Damascene, Dialogues, proem. 60–62, quoted in:
A. Louth, St. John Damascene: Tradition and Originality in Byzantine Theology
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), p. 15 and p. VIII.
2 A. Louth, Maximus the Confessor (London: Routledge,
1996), p. VII.
3 See, for instance, the studies collected in I.
Backus (ed.), The Reception of the Church Fathers in the West: From the
Carolingians to the Maurists (2 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1997); and A. Merkt, Das
patristische Prinzip. Eine Studie zur theologischen Bedeutung der Kirchenväter
(Leiden: Brill, 2001).
4 For a sketch of the development, see T. Graumann,
‘The Conduct of Theology and the “Fathers” of the Church’, in P. Rousseau
(ed.), A Companion to Late Antiquity (Oxford: Blackwell-Wiley, 2009), pp.
539–55.
5 See T. Graumann, ‘The Bible in Doctrinal Development
and Christian Councils’, in J. N. Carleton Paget and J. Scharper (eds.), The
New Cambridge History of the Bible (Vol. 1: From the Beginnings to 600;
Cambridge: University Press, 2013), pp. 798–821.
6 For the canonical collection, see K. H. Ohme, ‘Kirchenrecht’,
RAC 21 (2004), pp. 1099–139; esp. 1024f. on the inclusion of Ephesine ‘canons’.
7 On the history of the council in general, see J. A.
McGuckin, St. Cyril of Alexandria. The Christological Controversy: its History,
Theology and Texts (Vigiliae Christianae Supplementum, 23; Leiden: Brill,
1994); C. Fraisse-Coué, ‘Le débat théologique au temps de Théodose II.:
Nestorius’, in Histoire du Christianisme: des origines à nos jours (vol. 2:
Naissance d’une chrétienté (250–430); Paris: Desclée, 1995), pp. 499–550; L.
Perrone, ‘Da Nicea (325) a Calcedonia (451)’, in G. Alberigo (ed.), Storia dei
concili ecumenici (2nd edn; Brescia: Queriniana, 1993), pp. 11–118 (77–83); B.
J. Kidd, A History of the Church to AD 461 (vol. 3; Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1922), pp. 218–53; C. J. Hefele and H. Leclercq, Histoire des conciles d’après
les documents originaux (vol. II.1; Paris: Letouzey, 1908), pp. 287–377; S.
Wessel, Cyril of Alexandria and the Nestorian Controversy: The Making of a
Saint and of a Heretic (Oxford Early Christian Studies; Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2004), especially pp. 146–80, may only be used with caution.
8 A. DeHalleux, ‘La première session du concile d’
Éphèse (22 Juin 431)’, EThL 69 (1993) pp. 48–87, considers its function in the
first meeting held against Nestorius as equivalent to a definition of the legal
basis from which the examination proceeds (pp. 73–4); H. J. Sieben, Die
Konzilsidee der Alten Kirche (KonGe.U; Paderborn: Schoeningh, 1979), speaks of
its doctrinal ‘Monopolstellung’ in all conciliar considerations (pp. 232–42,
passim); and A. Grillmeier, Christ in the Christian Tradition (vol. 1; trans.
J. Bowden; 2nd edn; London: Continuum, 1975), in assessing the doctrinal
achievement of the council, can simply state: ‘For the Fathers of 431 Nicaea
provided the real authoritative christological formula. The dogmatic idea that
the Fathers found in it was this [i.e. that one and the same is Son of the
Father and Son of the Virgin Mary; and she may therefore be called Theotokos].
. , , This was the dogma of Ephesus, Which ran thus what did of Nicaea '(p.
486).
9 Collectio Vaticana, 43; E. Schwartz (ed.), Acta
conciliorum oecumenicorum (Berlin and Leipzig, 1927-84; hereafter ACO), 1.1.2,
p. 12.
10 Collectio Vaticana, 44-8; ACO 1.1.2, pp. 13-36. For
analysis of the session, see De Halleux (as n.8); T. Graumann, The Church of
the Fathers. Patristic theology and fathers evidence in the churches of the
East until the Council of Ephesus (431) (contributions to historical theology,
118; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), pp. 357-93; T. Graumann, ‘"Reading"
the First Council of Ephesus (431)', in R. Price and M. Whitby (eds.),
Chalcedon in Context:Church Councils 400-700 (TTH Contexts, 1; Liverpool:
Liverpool University Press, 2009), pp. 27–44.
11 Collectio Vaticana 25, ACO 1.1.1, pp. 114–16 for the
full Greek text; cf. Collectio Vaticana 35, ACO 1.1.2, p. 8, for the place in
the proceedings of 22 June where the letter was read.
12 Collectio Vaticana 31, ACO 1.1.1, pp. 120–1. 12
13 Ibid. p. 121,7f.
14 Collectio Vaticana 146, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 13-15.
15 Collectio Vaticana 146.1, ACO 1.1.5, p. 13, 31f .:.
. . so audience responds poiisai Auditors and koinii psifoi kyrosai sanctorum
fathers faith of Nikaido yet throisthenton.
16 Collectio Vaticana 146.3, ACO 1.1.5, p. 14, 13–15:
μίαν γὰϱ παϱὰ
πάντων σύμϕωνον ἐϰτεθῆναι πίστιν ἐν τοῖς ὑπὸ τῆς ὑμετέϱας εὐσεβείας ἀποστα λεῖσι διηγοϱεύσατε γϱάμμασι
πϱόσϕοϱον
τοῖςτε εὐαγγε λιϰοῖς ϰαὶ ἀποστολιϰοῖς γϱάμμασι
ϰαὶ τοῖςτῶν ἁγίων πατέϱων
δόγμασιν. Translations provided in this essay use drafts for an English edition
of the Acts of Ephesus by R. Price and T. Graumann, Translated Texts for
Historians, Liverpool (forthcoming).
17 Collectio Vaticana 151, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 119–24.
18 Collectio Vaticana 151.10, ACO 1.1.5, p. 121, 14f.
19 Collectio Casinensis 84, ACO 1.1.4, pp. 31–2.
20 Ibid. p. 32, 8f.: ‘uelle namque eum [sc.
imperatorem] dixi [sc. at the meeting of the bishops on 22 June] fidem nostram
. . . strengthened. ‘
21 Collectio Casinensis 84, ACO 1.1.4, p. 32, 25f .: ‘cunctis
uobis presentibus iudicaretur quis praue et praeter regulas ecclesiasticas
credere uideretur an certe recte omnes pariter confiteri, sicut sanctum patrum
religio habet.’ The other option presented here is to identify those who had
believed contrary to the rules of the church.
22 See Socrates Scholasticus, Ecclesiastical History
5.8.1 (279,15 Hansen): ϰϱατύναι
τὴν ἐν Νιϰαίᾳ πίστιν.
23 Cf., for example, the creed that may be
reconstructed from the Catechetical Homilies of Theodore of Mopsuestia. See P.
Bruns, Theodor von Mopsuestia: Katechetische Homilien (2 vols; Fontes
Christiani, 17, 1–2; Freiburg: Herder, 1994), esp. pp. 24–35, and A. Mingana
(ed.), Commentary of Theodore of Mopsuestia on the Nicene Creed (Woodbrooke
Studies, 5; Cambridge: W. Heffer & Sons, 1932). On the question of a
possible flexibility of wording in creeds considered to be ‘Nicene’, see V. H.
Drecoll, ‘Wienizänisch ist das Nicaeno-Constantinopolitanum’, ZKG 107 (1996),
pp. 1–18; and, with different emphasis, L. Abramowski, ‘Was hat das
Nicaeno-Constantinopolitanum (C) mit dem Konzil von Konstantinopel zu tun?’,
Theologie und Philosophie 67 (1992), pp. 481–513. The entire discussion on this
particular creed (for which see also generally, J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian
Creeds (3rd edn; London: Longman, 1972) illustrates the wider problem in hand.
The point to make, here, is the understanding implied in all these cases that the
Nicene Creed, however varied versions and readings might have been used in
practice, should constitute the foundational expression of (post-) Theodosian
orthodoxy. On the formation of Nicene Orthodoxy over the course of the fourth
century, see also L. Ayres, Nicaea and its Legacy. An Approach to
Fourth-Century Trinitarian Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004).
24 See: Cyril, Ep. 4 (Collectio Vaticana 4, ACO
25 For instance, in the sermon ‘Über das Nicaenum ‘(Loofs,
Nestoriana, pp. 294–7).
26 Cyril of Alexandria, Against Nestorius 1.6–8 (ACO
1.1.6, pp. 26–31).
27 Collectio Vaticana 146, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 13–15.
28 Collectio Vaticana 151.1–10, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 119–21.
29 Collectio Vaticana 151.11, ACO 1.1.5, p. 121, 28f.: ‘ὥστε
τὴν αἱρετικὴν κακοδοξίαν μὴ ζητηθῆναι, ἣν ἐν τοῖς κεφα λαίοις εὕ ρομεν.’
30 Collectio Vaticana 151.12, ACO 1.1.5, p. 122, 5. The
same is repeated in reverse order in the decree issued by the oriental
part-council (Collectio Vaticana 151.15, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 122–3).
31 Collectio Vaticana 155, ACO 1.1.5, p. 127.
32 Collectio Vaticana 156, ACO 1.1.5, p. 128, 17.
33 Collectio Vaticana 157.3, ACO 1.1.5, p. 129, 21–2.
34 Cf. the criticism and attack on the chapters
composed in the run up to the council by Theodoret of Cyrus, Impugnatio xii
anathematismorum Cyrilli (CPG 6214), to be reconstructed, in part, from ACO
1.1.6, pp. 108–44; and (the lost treatise of) Andreas of Samosata, Impugnatio
XII Anathematismorum Cyrilli (CPG 6373); for fragments, see ACO 6.3.1, pp.
111–13; and generally P. Évieux, ‘André de Samosate. Un adversaire de Cyrille
d’Alexandrie durant la crise nestorienne’, REByz 32 (1974), pp. 253–300.
35 This is the main trajectory and procedural logic of
this part of the session, Collectio Vaticana 44–47; ACO 1.1.2. pp. 13–35; cf.
the interpretation in Graumann, Die Kirche der Väter, pp. 372–85.
36 Collectio Vaticana 84.1, ACO I.1.3, pp. 10, 29–11,
5.
37 Collectio Vaticana 92.1, ACO 1.1.3, pp. 28, 26–9, 2:
‘τήν τε ἀποστολικὴν πίστιν, ἣν καὶ οἱ ἐπὶ τῆς Νικαίαςτριακόσιοι δέκα καὶ ὀκτὼ
συναχθέντες ἐξέθεντο, φανερὰν κατεστήσαμεν τῆι ὑμῶν εὐσεβείαι καὶ τὸν ἐναντία
ταύτηι φρονήσαντα Νεστόριον καθείλομεν.’
38 Collectio Vaticana 92.2–4, ACO 1.1.3, p. 29f.
39 Collectio Vaticana 82, ACO 1.1.3, pp. 5–9. In the
Latin collection, this letter (Collectio Veronensis 22) immediately follows the
one to the Emperor (Collectio Veronensis 21); in intent and scope, it appears
very much to be the sibling of the one to the emperor.
40 Collectio Vaticana 159, ACO I.1.5, p. 131.
41 Collectio Vaticana 163, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 133–5; that
this letter was prefaced by the Nicene Creed is stated near the end of the
letter (see following note) and is repeated in the rubric of the Greek version,
p. 133, 34f., which, however, does not preserve the text of it.
42 Collectio Vaticana 163.3, ACO 1.1.5, pp. 134, 38–p.
135, 4: ‘Tpög 68 toutoug &vtußokobuev budov tny evočBelov kekeboot Távtog
till kota Nukoiov Útoypdayol Riotel, iv toutGov mudov Tpoetáčogev töv Ypoguátov
koi uměv outfit gévov &Tetoo yoyeiv, unte yikov &věpotov tov köptov
mudov'Incouv Xplotöv Méyov to #3. Beög Y&p &oti täketog koi
&veportog téMetog & unte to 6mthy eio &yetv thv Beótmto: toū
Xplotob to Munpöv Yàp &tions &kátepov.
43 On Antiochene theology at Ephesus and the formula,
see, for instance (and despite a somewhat narrow perspective), P. B. Clayton,
‘The Christology of Theodoret of Cyrus. Antiochene Christology from the Council
of Ephesus (431) to the Council of Chalcedon (451) (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2007), pp. 153–64; cf. also G. Gould, Cyril and the Formula of Reunion,
DR 105 (1987), pp. 235–52.
44 The session of 22 July receives comparatively little
attention in scholarly accounts of the council; a terse paragraph in McGuckin,
St. Cyril, p. 100, and a few lines in Fraisse-Coué, ‘Le débat’, p. 536, both
simply ‘list ‘the session and its decision. As is the case in general church
histories, the classical account by Hefele/Leclerq, Histoire, p. 330f., is a
straightforward paraphrase of the acts. J. R. Wright, ‘The seventh canon of
Ephesus’, in E. M. Leonard and K. Merriman (eds.), From Logos to Christos:
Essays on Christology in Honour of Joanne McWilliam (Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier
University Press, 2009), pp. 83–9 offers no historical insights, presenting,
rather, sweeping theological judgements on the import of canonical decisions.
The brief account in Wessel, Cyril, 178f. is erroneous on fact and confused in
its interpretation.
45 Collectio Atheniensis 73–79, ACO 1.1.7, pp. 84–117.
For discussion of the ‘minutes ‘of this meeting and the extent to which they
were editorially reworked already at the time, see T. Graumann,
‘Protokollierung, Aktenerstellung und Dokumentation am Beispiel des Konzils von
Ephesus (431)’, Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum 42 (2010), pp. 7–34 (esp.
26–32); L. Abramowski, ‘Die Sitzung des Konzils von Ephesus am 22. Juli 431:
‘Über die Befestigung des Symbols von Nizäa und über den vom Presbyter
Charisius übergebenen Libellus’, ZKG 115 (2004), pp. 382–90; Graumann, Kirche
der Väter, pp. 400–9, and the observations by E. Schwartz, praefatio ACO 1.1.4,
p. XVIIIf.
46 Collectio Atheniensis 74.2–4, ACO 1.1.7, p. 89. 47
47 Collectio Atheniensis 75.1–22, ACO 1.1.7, pp. 89–95.
48 Collectio Atheniensis 75–76, ACO 1.1.7, pp. 95–106;
the horos at 77, ACO 1.1.7, p. 105, 20–106,8. For the text, see below n. 52.
49 Charisius’ plea ends with a broadly Nicene version
of the Creed (Collectio Atheniensis 76.3, ACO 1.1.7, p. 97, 16–23), after which
follows immediately the ‘falsified creed’ (Collectio Atheniensis 76.4–11, ACO
1.1.7, pp. 97–100), and ‘Canon 7 ‘then follows at Collectio Atheniensis 77, ACO
1.1.7, pp. 105–6.
50 See Schwartz, praefatio, ACO 1.1.4, XVIIII.
51 Collectio Atheniensis 78.1–25, ACO 1.1.7, pp.
106–11.
52 Collectio Atheniensis 77, ACO 1.1.7, pp. 106,
20–106, 8: Toutov toivov &voyvoo,6&vtov, (optoev n &Yio Guvoôog
&tépov Riotiv undevi &#eivot Tpopépetv in Youv Guy/papeuv ii ouvtlévol
Topč thv ôptobeioov Topč tdov &Yíov Totépov táv čv till Nukočov ouvoyéévtov
obv &yiot Tvebuoti toug 68 to\udovtog in ouvt16évol Riotiv Štépov in Youv
Rpokouigely in Rpopépetv toig 86&Mououv Šttotpépetv eig &tiyvootv trig
&Ambetog n & EXAmviouou in 83 Touðolouot in Youv 83 oipéoedog oio
Gómtotobv, toūtoug, ei uév elev Štiokotol in k}\mpukoi, &\}\otpious civol
toug &tiokóToug trig &Tlokotrig koi toug KAmpukous toū K}\ripou.ei 68
Moukoi elev, &voßeuotiëe0601. kotă tov toov 68 tpóTov, ei (popo Geièv tives
eite étickoTou eite k\mpukoi eite Moukoi in ppovobvteg i ötöáokovteg to £v till
Tpokoutobeiant £k6&oel Top& Xoptoiou tou Tpeoputépou Tepi trig
&vovëpoTrioedog tou uovoyevobg violi tou Beob in Youv to utop& koi
öteotpoupévo Neotopiou 6óYuoto, & koi útotétoktoi, brokeio 6000 v till
&topdoel trig &yiog to utmg koi oikouplevuking ouvööou, Öote 6m Movóti
tov učv Štiokotov &\}\otpuobobol trig &Tlokotris koi etvol
kočnipmuévov, tow 68 k\mpukov Öpioidog &KRittetv tou k}\ripou. ei 68 Moukóg
tug ein, koi obtog &voßeuotiščaboo koba Tpoeipmtou.
53 Pace Kidd, History, p. 247, who erroneously
maintains the prescription of any other form of words' to be the only plausible
reading. In contrast, L. Perrone, Da Nicea, p. 81, notes, rightly, that the
decision at the time non implicava necessariamente una fedelta letterale. See
also the discussion of ‘Nicene Creeds above.
54 Collectio Atheniensis 74.4, ACO 1.1.7, p. 89, 15–20.
55 For this reason, Patristic excerpts are then adduced
75, 1–22. 55 For the usage of this ‘canon ‘to effect the deposition of Flavian
of Constantinople by Dioscuros of Alexandria at the council of 449, see
CChalc., act. I943(a)-1067; ACO 2.1.1. pp. 189–95; The Acts of the Council of
Chalcedon (trans. R. Price and M. Gaddis; Translated Texts for Historians, 45;
3 vols; Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2005), pp. 340–63. It is
noteworthy and puzzling that the results of this meeting find no echo in any of
the following exchanges and are also not reported, it seems, to the emperor.
This observation adds to the unease with the reliability of the acts of that
meeting.
56 Collectio Vaticana 164, ACO I.1.5, pp. 135–6;
according to the Latin Collectio Casinensis, this was written before the
mission of Count John.
57 Collectio Vaticana 93.3, ACO 1.1.3, p. 31, 24–7.
58 Collectio Atheniensis 48.5, ACO 1.1.7, p. 70, 10.
59 Collectio Vaticana 94, ACO 1.1.3, pp. 32–3.
60 Collectio Atheniensis 48.2, ACO 1.1.7, p. 69, 18–23:
‘éxelvo 68 R&vtov Heigov to Toootáčol budov to xodtog &v outoig tois
YQ&pluo'ouv &vexeiv učv to oxévôoko to thióoën Riotel Rood tuvov
Štiavoévto, xOvövt 68 xoi Yvdopovi Zongoa Boatni &v Nucoioi bro tov Totéoov
&xtebeian Rákoa Totè Riotel, it's, oute 8AMTég ti oute Teottöv &ouco,
Gövtouov thv Gotnotov Xooigetol, oriucaly 6%iyots to Tóv öto MoRoooo tov Öoo oi
Betoa Yogood nuiv Teo eucepeiog Rooo.6eódoxoalv, xoi égoudoooo to tov
xcavouoyev mutv Boukouévov ×od Retkovnuévov Oooviluoto.
61 Collectio Atheniensis 48.4, ACO 1.1.7, p. 69, 40–2:
‘àxéoolov thv Óoëny éxeivny xoboluo).oyñool tiotiv [sc. that of Nicaea] xoi
toutml x0/60Toyodayol xoi éxpo Aeiv &YYQ&OGol Ógo).oyiol thy Teottny
£xeivmv xocoöogiogyégouoov tdov xedo).oidov #x6eouv'
62 Ibid. p. 70, 4f.
63 Ibid. p. 70, 6–8: ‘öBev xoi mueig &xeivoug
&xoMoutouvteg till uév Riotel xoi till &x6&oel trig ópio).oyiog
oüte Roootiteuév ti oute &Qolqobuev, doxobong Roog āTovto tristóv Totéodov
8x6éoedog.'
64 Collectio Atheniensis 48.5, ACO 1.1.7, p. 70, 10.
65 Ibid., p. 70, 12f.
66 Collectio Atheniensis 48.7, ACO 1.1.7, p. 70, 22–4:
'touto, ötö0%6évteg tood töv Geo).óYGov &vôodov, euoyye Motöv xoi &
Rootó). Gov xoi Tooomtöv xoi tāov xotó xoloöv Yevouévov trig euoeBoüg Rioteog
ötöooxã).Gov.
67 Ibid. p. 70, 29f.: uóvnt 68 till bito tdov
&Yidov Totépov tdov čv Nukoioi ouvoëpoločávtov Ógo).oyiol Kobutoypéayou.’
68 For the period of tense negotiations, competition
and vying for political influence between the parties, during the late summer
and autumn of 431, see McGuckin, St. Cyril, pp. 101–7; Fraisse Coué, ‘Le
débat’, pp. 537–40.
69 See above, n. 55.
70 At the same time, the horos pre-empted any demands by
the emperor to this effect. It is this sentiment and conclusion that explains
the resistance by most bishops in the second session of the Council of
Chalcedon to the idea of drafting a new confession of faith.
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