Studia Patristica

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S93 STUDIA PATRISTICA
v. vz,
VOL. XLII
Papers presented at the Fourteenth International Conference

on Patristic Studies held
in Oxford 2003
Other Greek Writers

John of Damascus and Beyond
The West to Hilary
Edited by
F. YOUNG, M. EDWARDS and P. PARVIS
Index Auctorum and Table of Contents of Vols. XXXIX-XLIII in Vol. XLIII
PEETERS
LEUVEN - PARIS - DUDLEY, MA yN|y Qp M(qH
2006
/U07
STACKS
STUDIA PATRISTICA
VOL. XLII
A CIP record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.
© Peeters Publishers — Louvain — Belgium 2006

All rights reserved, including the right to translate or to
reproduce this book or parts thereof in any form.
D. 2006/0602/140
ISBN-10: 90-429-1885-3
ISBN-13: 9789042918856
Printed in Belgium by Peeters, Leuven

STUDIA PATRISTICA
VOL. XLII
Papers presented at the Fourteenth International Conference

on Patristic Studies held
in Oxford 2003
Other Greek Writers

John of Damascus and Beyond
The West to Hilary
Edited by
F. YOUNG, M. EDWARDS and P. PARVIS
Index Auctorum and Table of Contents of Vols. XXXIX-XLIII in Vol. XLIII
PEETERS
LEUVEN - PARIS - DUDLEY, MA
2006
Table of Contents
XIII. OTHER GREEK WRITERS
Pauline Allen, Brisbane

The Syrian Church Through Bishops 's Eyes: The Letters of Theodoret
of Cyrrhus and Severus of Antioch 3
Rosemary A. Arthur, Wakefield
Ps-Dionysius' Angelic Hierarchy and the Chaldaean Oracles 23
Antonia Atanassova, Boston
Cyril of Alexandria and His Contribution to Mariology 29
Demetrios Bathrellos, London
The Temptations of Jesus Christ according to St Maximus the
Confessor 45
Paul M. Blowers, Johnson City, Tennessee
Bodily Inequality, Material Chaos, and the Ethics of Equalization in
Maximus the Confessor 51
Katharina Bracht, Berlin
Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des Methodius von Olympus bzw. Patara
in der Tradition der orthodoxen Kirchen 57
Peter Bruns, Bamberg
Kirchengeschichte als Hagiographie? Zur theologischen Konzep-
tion des Johannes von Ephesus 65
Istvan M. BugAr, Debrecen
Epiphanius of Salamis as a Monastic Author? The so-called Testa-
mentum Epiphanii in the Context of Fourth-Century Spiritual Trends 73
Catherine Burris, Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Imagining Thecla: Rhetorical Strategies in Severus of Antioch 's 97th
Cathedral Homily 83
Henry Chadwick, Oxford
Was Marinus' Life of Proclus a Reply to Dionysius the Are-
opagite? 89
Byoung-Ha Cho, Seoul
Zu De Spiritu Sancto von Didymus dem Blinden: Didymus der
Blinde iiber den Heiligen Geist 91
Ysabel de Andia, Paris
Inconnaissance et priere chez Evagre le Pontique et Denys l'Ar6o-
pagite 97
HA. Drake, Santa Barbara
'Measure Our Religion Against Yours': Constantine's Concept of
Christianity in the Oration to the Saints 107
VI Table of Contents
Jan Willem Drijvers, Groningen

A Bishop and His City: Cyril of Jerusalem 113
Everett Ferguson, Abilene, Texas
[Ps]-Eusebius of Alexandria, 'On Baptism [of Christ]': A Contest
Between Christ and the Devil 127
James George, Oxford
Severus of Antioch's Response to Heresy and Religious Promiscuity 133
Jean-Noel Guinot, Lyon
La Lettre 147 a Veconome Jean de Theodoret de Cyr: Problemes
historiques et prosopographiques 139
L. Michael Harrington, Dallas
Body and the Discursive in the Anthropology of Dionysius the Are-
opagite and His First Scholiast 147
Petra Heldt, Jerusalem
Delineating Identity in the Second and Third Century CE: The Case
of the Epistle of Paul to the Galatians 4:21-31 in the Writings of
Hippolytus 163
Assaad E. Kattan, Minister
The Christological Dimension of Maximus Confessor's Biblical
Hermeneutics 169
Thomas W. Mackay, Provo
The Newly Edited Pages of Didymos the Blind on Psalms 175
Ariane Magny, Montreal
Porphyry Against the Christians: A Critical Analysis of the Book
of Daniel in Its Historical Context 181
Sebastien Morlet, Paris
L'Ecriture, image des vertus : la transformation d'un theme philo-
nien dans l'apologetique d'Eusebe de Cesaree 187
Joseph G. Mueller, S.J., Milwaukee
The Use of Tobit and Revelation in the Apostolic Constitutions:
Corrections of the Critical Edition 193
Domenico Pazzini, Verucchio
II Liber adversariorum nel Commento a Giovanni di Cirillo Ales-
sandrino 199
Marcus Plested, Cambridge
Wisdom in St Maximus the Confessor 205
Jean-Marc Prieur, Strasbourg
Philostorge et la theologie neo-arienne 211
Jon Robertson, Oxford
Divine Mediation in Marcellus of Ancyra: The Concept of the Image
of God in the Fragments of his Work Against Asterius 217
Table of Contents VII
James L. Siebach, Provo, Utah

Interpretive Motives and Practices in Didymus the Blind's Com
mentary on Psalms 223
James D. Smith III, San Diego
On Pseudo-Ignatius' Fourth-Century Antiochene Assertion of Epis
copal Supremacy 231
M.C Steenberg, Oxford
Gnomic Will and a Challenge to the True Humanity of Christ in
Maximus Confessor 237
Peter D. Steiger, Washington
The Image of God in the Commentary On Genesis of Didymus the
Blind 243
Jan-Eric Steppa, Lund
Anti-Chalcedonianism, Hellenic Religion, and Heresy in Zacharias
Scholasticus' Life ofSeverus 249
Torstein Theodor Tollefsen, Oslo
The Mystery of Christ as a Key to the Cosmology of St. Maximus
the Confessor 255
Gabino UrIbarri, S.J., Madrid
Trasfondo escrituristico del nacimiento de Cristo en los fragmen-
tos de Pablo de Samosata 259
Peter Van Nuffelen, Leuven / Exeter
Sozomen's Chapter on the Finding of the True Cross (HE 2.1) and
His Historical Method 265
Maxine West, London
Serapion of Thmuis: Between Origen and Athanasius 273
XIV. JOHN OF DAMASCUS AND BEYOND

Kristina Alveteg, Lund
In Silence We Speak: Romanos Melodos and Mary at the Cross 279
Ioannis Bekos, Geneva
The Image of God in Man according to St John Damascene: Implica
tions on Issues Surrounding Euthanasia 285
Peter C. Bouteneff, Crestwood, New York
The Two Wills of God: Providence in St John of Damascus 291
Marc De Groote, Ghent
Joannes Geometres Kyriotes and His Metaphrasis Odarum 297
Job Getcha, Paris
The Treatise on the Priesthood by Symeon of Thessalonica 305
Vffl Table of Contents
Julia Konstanttnovsky, Oxford

Dionysius the Areopagite versus Aristotle? The Two Points of Refer
ence for Gregory Palamas in Initial Confrontations with Barlaam
the Calabrian 313
Basile LouriE, St. Petersbourg
Une dispute sans justes: Leon de Chalcedoine, Eustrate de Nicee
et la troisieme querelle sur les images sacrees 321
George Metallidis, Thessalonica
Theology and Gnoseology and the Formulation of Doctrine in
St John Damascene 341
Joost van Rossum, Paris
Dionysius the Areopagite and Gregory Palamas: A 'Christological
Corrective'? 347
XV. THE WEST TO HILARY
Ian L.S. Balfour, Edinburgh

Tertullian's Religious Beliefs before his Conversion 357
Geoffrey D. Dunn, Brisbane
Cyprian's Care for the Poor: The Evidence of De Opere et Eleemo-
synis 363
References to Mary in the Writings of Cyprian of Carthage 369
Stefan Freund, Eichstatt
Laktanz und die epikureische Seelenlehre 379
J. Albert Harrill, Bloomington, Indiana
The Metaphor of Slavery in the Writings of Tertullian 385
G£bor Kendeffy, Budapest
Metaphorical Approach in Lactantius' Theology and Cosmology .... 391
Jeronimo Leal, Rome
Nota sobre el metodo Tertulianeo 399
Bryan M. Litfin, Chicago
Tertullian's Use of the Regula Fidei as an Interpretive Device in
Adversus Marcionem 405
Mark Weedman, Rochester, Minnesota
Not the Athanasius of the West: Hilary's Changing Relationship
with Athanasius 41 1
Abbreviations
AA.SS see ASS.

AAWG.PH Abhandlungen der Akademie der Wissenschaften in Gottingen Philologische-
historische Klasse, Gottingen.
AB Analecla Bollandiana. Brussels.
AC Antike und Christentum, ed. F.J. Dolger, Miinster.
ACL Antiquite classique, Louvain.
ACO Acta conciliorum oecumenicorum, ed. E. Schwartz, Berlin.
ACW Ancient Christian Writers, ed. J. Quasten and J.C. Plumpe, Westminster
(Md.)/London.
AHDLMA Archives d'histoire doctrinale et litteraire du moyen age, Paris.
AJAH American Journal of Ancient History, Cambridge, Mass.
AJP American Journal of Philology, Baltimore.
AKK Archiv fur katholisches Kirchenrecht, Mainz.
AKPAW Abhandlungen der koniglichen PreuBischen Akademie der Wissen
schaften, Berlin.
ALMA Archivum Latinitatis Medii Aevi (Bulletin du Cange), Paris/Brussels.
ALW Archiv fiir Liturgiewissenschaft, Regensburg.
AnalBoll Analecta Bollandiana, Brussels.
ANCL Ante-Nicene Christian Library, Edinburgh.
ANF Ante-Nicene Fathers, Buffalo/New York.
ANRW Aufstieg und Niedergang der romischen Welt, ed H. Temporini et al.,
Berlin.
AnSt Anatolian Studies, London.
AnThA Annee theologique augustinienne, Paris.
APOT Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament in English, ed.
R.E. Charles, Oxford.
AR Archivum Romanicum, Florence.
ARW Archiv fiir Religionswissenschaft, Berlin/Leipzig.
ASS Acta Sanctorum, ed. the Bollandists, Brussels.
AThANT Abhandlungen zur Theologie des Alten und Neuen Testaments, Zurich.
Aug Augustinianum, Rome.
AugSt Augustinian Studies, Villanova (USA).
AW Athanasius Werke, ed. H.-G. Opitz et al., Berlin.
AZ Archaologische Zeitung, Berlin.
BA Bibliotheque augustinienne, Paris.
BAC Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Madrid.
BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research, New Haven, Conn.
BDAG A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Chris
tian Literature, 3rd edn F.W. Danker, Chicago.
BEHE Bibliotheque de l'Ecole des Hautes Etudes, Paris.
BETL Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium, Louvain.
BGL Benedictinisches Geistesleben, St. Ottilien.
BHG Bibliotheca Hagiographica Graeca, Brussels.
BHL Bibliotheca Hagiographica Latina Antiquae et Mediae Aetatis, Brussels.
Abbreviations
BHO Bibliotheca Hagiographica Orientalis, Brussels.

BHTh Beitrage zur historischen Theologie, Tubingen.
BJ Bursians Jahresbericht iiber die Fortschritte der klassischen Altertums-
wissenschaft, Leipzig.
BJRULM Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, Manchester.
BKV Bibliothek der Kirchenvater, ed. F.X. Reithmayr and V. Thalhofer,
Kempten.
BKV2 Bibliothek der Kirchenvater, ed. O. Bardenhewer, Th. Schermann, and
C. Weyman, Kempten/Munich.
BKV3 Bibliothek der Kirchenvater. Zweite Reihe, ed. O. Bardenhewer, J. Zel-
linger, and J. Martin, Munich.
BLE Bulletin de litterature ecclesiastique, Toulouse.
BoJ Bonner Jahrbiicher, Bonn.
BS Bibliotheca sacra, London.
BSL Bolletino di studi latini, Naples.
BWAT Beitrage zur Wissenschaft vom Alten Testament, Leipzig/Stuttgart.
Byz Byzantion, Brussels.
BZ Byzantinische Zeitschrift, Leipzig.
BZNW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift fur die neutestamentlische Wissenschaft, Berlin.
CAr Cahiers Archeologique, Paris.
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly, Washington.
CCCM Corpus Christianorum, Continuatio Mediaevalis, Turnhout/Paris.
CCG Corpus Christianorum, Series Graeca, Turnhout/Paris.
CCL Corpus Christianorum, Series Latina, Turnhout/Paris.
CCSA Corpus Christianorum, Series Apocryphorum, Turnhout/Paris.
CH Church History, Chicago.
CIL Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum, Berlin.
CP(h) Classical Philology, Chicago.
CPG Clavis Patrum Graecorum, ed. M. Geerard, vols. I-VI, Turnhout.
CPL Clavis Patrum Latinorum (SE 3), ed. E. Dekkers and A. Gaar, Turnhout.
CQ Classical Quarterly, London/Oxford.
CR The Classical Review, London/Oxford.
CSCO Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium, Louvain.
Aeth = Scriptores Aethiopici
Ar = Scriptores Arabici
Arm = Scriptores Armeniaci
Copt = Scriptores Coptici
Iber = Scriptores Iberici
Syr = Scriptores Syri
Subs = Subsidia
CSEL Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, Vienna.
CSHB Corpus Scriptorum Historiae Byzantinae, Bonn.
CTh Collectanea Theologica, Lvov.
CUF Collection des Universites de France publiee sous le patronage de
l'Association Guillaume Bude, Paris.
CW Catholic World, New York.
DAC Dictionary of the Apostolic Church, ed. J. Hastings, Edinburgh.
Abbreviations XI
DACL see DAL

DAL Dictionnaire d'archeologie chretienne et de liturgie, ed. F. Cabrol,
H. Leclercq, Paris.
DB Dictionnaire de la Bible, Paris.
DBS Dictionnaire de la Bible, Supplement, Paris.
DCB Dictionary of Christian Biography, Literature, Sects, and Doctrines,
ed. W. Smith and H. Wace, 4 vols, London.
DHGE Dictionnaire d'histoire et de geographie ecclesiastique, ed. A. Baudrillart,
Paris.
Did Didaskalia, Lisbon.
DOP Dumbarton Oaks Papers, Cambridge, Mass., subsequently Washington, D.C.
DOS Dumbarton Oaks Studies, Cambridge, Mass., subsequently Washington, D.C.
DR Downside Review, Stratton on the Fosse, Bath.
DS H.J. Denzinger and A. Schonmetzer, ed., Enchiridion Symbolorum,
Barcelona/Freiburg i.B./Rome.
DSp Dictionnaire de Spiritualite, ed. M. Viller, S.J., and others, Paris.
DTC Dictionnaire de theologie catholique, ed. A. Vacant, E. Mangenot, and
E. Amann, Paris.
EA Etudes augustiniennes, Paris.
ECatt Enciclopedia Cattolica, Rome.
ECQ Eastern Churches Quarterly, Ramsgate.
EE Estudios eclesiasticos, Madrid.
EECh Encyclopedia of the Early Church, ed. A. Di Berardino, Cambridge.
EKK Evangelisch-Katholischen Kommentar zum Neuen Testament, Neukirchen.
EH Enchiridion Fontium Historiae Ecclesiasticae Antiquae, ed. Ueding-
Kirch, 6th ed., Barcelona.
EO Echos d'Orient, Paris.
EtByz Etudes Byzantines, Paris.
ETL Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses, Louvain.
EWNT Exegetisches Worterbuch zum NT, ed. H.R. Balz et al., Stuttgart.
ExpT The Expository Times, Edinburgh.
FC The Fathers of the Church, New York.
FGH Fragmente der griechischen Historiker, Berlin.
FKDG Forschungen zur Kirchen- und Dogmengeschichte, Gottingen.
FRL Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments,
Gottingen.
FS Festschrift.
FThSt Freiburger theologische Studien, Freiburg i.B.
FTS Frankfurter theologische Studien, Frankfurt a.M.
FZThPh Freiburger Zeitschrift fur Theologie und Philosophie, Freiburg/Switzer
land.
GCS Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller, Leipzig/Berlin.
GDV Geschichtsschreiber der deutschen Vorzeit, Stuttgart.
GLNT Grande Lessico del Nuovo Testamento, Genoa.
GNO Gregorii Nysseni Opera, Leiden.
GRBS Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies, Cambridge, Mass.
GWV Geschichte in Wissenschaft und Unterricht, Offenburg.
XII Abbreviations
HbNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament. Tubingen.

HDR Harvard Dissertations in Religion, Missoula.
HJG Historisches Jahrbuch der Gorresgesellschaft, successively Munich, Cologne
and Munich/Freiburg i.B.
HKG Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, Tubingen.
HNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament, Tubingen.
HO Handbuch der Orientalistik, Leiden.
HSCP Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, Cambridge, Mass.
HThR Harvard Theological Review, Cambridge, Mass.
HTS Harvard Theological Studies, Cambridge, Mass.
HZ Historische Zeitschrift, Munich/Berlin.
ICC The International Critical Commentary of the Holy Scriptures of the
Old and New Testaments, Edinburgh.
ILCV Inscriptiones Latinae Christianae Veteres, ed. E. Diehl, Berlin.
ILS Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae, ed. H. Dessau, Berlin.
J(b)AC Jahrbuch fur Antike und Christentum, Munster.
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature, Philadelphia, Pa., then various places.
Jdl Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archaologischen Instituts, Berlin.
JECS Journal of Early Christian Studies, Baltimore.
JEH The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, London.
JJS Journal of Jewish Studies, London.
JLH Jahrbuch fur Liturgik und Hymnologie, Kassel.
JPTh Jahrbucher fur protestantische Theologie, Leipzig/Freiburg i.B.
JQR Jewish Quarterly Review, Philadelphia.
JRS Journal of Roman Studies, London.
JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman
Period, Leiden.
JSOR Journal of the Society of Oriental Research, Chicago.
JThSt Journal of Theological Studies, Oxford.
KAV Kommentar zu den apostolischen Vatern, Gottingen.
KeTh Kerk en Theologie, 's Gravenhage.
KJ(b) Kirchliches Jahrbuch fur die evangelische Kirche in Deutschland, Giiters-
loh.
LCL The Loeb Classical Library, London/Cambridge, Mass.
LNPF A Select Library of Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian
Church, ed. P. Schaff and H. Wace, Buffalo/New York.
L(0)F Library of Fathers of the Holy Catholic Church, Oxford.
LSJ H.G. Liddell and R. Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon, new (9th) edn
H.S. Jones, Oxford.
LThK Lexikon fur Theologie und Kirche, Freiburg i.B.
MA Moyen-Age, Brussels.
MAMA Monumenta Asiae Minoris Antiqua, London.
Mansi J.D. Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio, Florence,
1759-1798. Reprint and continuation: Paris/Leipzig, 1901-1927.
MBTh Miinsterische Beitrage zur Theologie, Munster.
MCom Miscelanea Comillas, Comillas/Santander.
MGH Monumenta germaniae historica. Hanover/Berlin.
Abbreviations XIII
ML Mediaevalia Lovaniensia, Louvain.

MPG See PG.
MSR Melanges de science religieuse, Lille.
MThZ Miinchener theologische Zeitschrift, Munich.
Mus Le Museon, Louvain.
NGWG Nachrichten der Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Gottingen.
NH(M)S Nag Hammadi (and Manichaean) Studies, Leiden.
NovTest Novum Testamentum, Leiden.
NPNF See LNPF.
NRSV New Revised Standard Version.
NRTh Nouvelle Revue Theologique, Tournai/Louvain/Paris.
NTA Neutestamentliche Abhandlungen, Miinster.
NT.S Novum Testamentum Supplements, Leiden.
NTS New Testament Studies, Cambridge/Washington.
OBO Orbis biblicus et orientalis, Freiburg, Switz.
OCA Orientalia Christiana Analecta, Rome.
OCP Orientalia Christiana Periodica, Rome.
OECS Oxford Early Christian Studies, Oxford.
OLA Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta, Louvain.
OLP Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica, Louvain.
Or Orientalia. Commentarii editi a Pontificio Instituto Biblico, Rome.
OrChr Oriens Christianus, Leipzig, then Wiesbaden.
OrSyr L'Orient Syrien, Paris.
PG Migne, Patrologia, series graeca.
PGL A Patristic Greek Lexicon, ed. G.L. Lampe, Oxford.
PL Migne, Patrologia, series latina.
PLRE The Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, ed. A.H.M. Jones et
al., Cambridge.
PLS Migne, Patrologia, series latina. Supplementum ed. A. Hamman.
PO Patrologia Orientalis, Paris.
PRE Paulys Realenzyklopadie der classischen Alterthumswissenschaft, Stuttgart.
PS Patrologia Syriaca, Paris.
PTA Papyrologische Texte und Abhandlungen, Bonn.
PThR Princeton Theological Review, Princeton.
PTS Patristische Texte und Studien, Berlin.
PW Paulys Realencyclopadie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, ed.
G. Wissowa, Stuttgart.
QLP Questions liturgiques et paroissiales, Louvain.
QuLi Questions liturgiques, Louvain
RAC Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, Rome.
RACh Reallexikon fur Antike und Christentum, Stuttgart.
RAM Revue d'ascetique et de mystique, Paris.
RAug Recherches Augustiniennes, Paris.
RBen Revue B6nedictine, Maredsous.
RB(ibl) Revue biblique, Paris.
RE Realencyklopadie fur protestantische Theologie und Kirche, founded by
J.J. Herzog, 3e ed. A. Hauck, Leipzig.
XIV Abbreviations
REA(ug) Revue des etudes Augustiniennes, Paris.

REB Revue des studes byzantines, Paris.
RED Renim ecclesiasticarum documenta, Rome.
REL Revue des etudes latines, Paris.
REG Revue des etudes grecques, Paris.
RevSR Revue des sciences religieuses, Strasbourg.
RevThom Revue thomiste, Toulouse.
RFIC Rivista di fllologia e d'istruzione classica, Turin.
RGG Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart, ed. Gunkel-Zscharnack, Tubingen
RHE Revue d'histoire ecclesiastique, Louvain.
RhMus Rheinisches Museum fur Philologie, Bonn.
RHR Revue de l'histoire des religions, Paris.
RHT Revue d'Histoire des Textes, Paris.
RMAL Revue du Moyen-Age Latin, Paris.
ROC Revue de l'Orient Chretien, Paris.
RPh Revue de philologie, Paris.
RQ Romische Quartalschrift, Freiburg i.B.
RQH Revue des questions historiques, Paris.
RSLR Rivista di storia e letteratura religiosa, Florence.
RSPT, RSPh Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques, Paris.
RSR Recherches de science religieuse, Paris.
RTAM Recherches de theologie ancienne et medievale, Louvain.
RthL Revue theologique de Louvain, Louvain.
RTM Rivista di teologia morale, Bologna.
Sal Salesianum, Roma.
SBA Schweizerisches Beitrage zur Altertumswissenschaft, Basel.
SBS Stuttgarter Bibelstudien, Stuttgart.
ScEc Sciences eccl6siastiques, Bruges.
SCh, SC Sources chrttiennes, Paris.
SD Studies and Documents, ed. K. Lake and S. Lake. London/Philadelphia.
SE Sacris Erudiri. Bruges.
SDHI Studia et documenta historiae et iuris, Roma.
SH Subsidia Hagiographica, Brussels.
SHA Scriptores Historiae Augustae, .
SJMS Speculum. Journal of Mediaeval Studies. Cambridge, Mass.
SM Studien und Mitteilungen zur Geschichte des Benediktinerorderns und
seiner Zweige, Munich.
SO Symbolae Osloenses, Oslo.
SP Studia Patristica. Papers presented to the International Conference on
Patristic Studies held in Oxford, successively Berlin, Kalamazoo, Louvain.
SPM Stromata Patristica et Mediaevalia, ed. C. Mohrman and J. Quasten,
Utrecht.
SQ Sammlung ausgewahlter Quellenschriften zur Kirchen- und Dogmen-
geschichte, Tubingen.
SQAW Schriften und Quellen der Alten Welt, Berlin.
SSL Spicilegium Sacrum Lovaniense, Louvain.
StudMed Studi Medievali, Turin.
Abbreviations XV
SVF Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, ed. J. von Arnim, Leipzig.

TDNT Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Grand Rapids, Mich.
TE Teologia espiritual, Valencia.
ThGl Theologie und Glaube, Paderborn.
ThJ Theologische Jahrbiicher, Leipzig.
ThLZ Theologische Literaturzeitung, Leipzig.
ThPh Theologie und Philosophie, Freiburg i.B.
ThQ Theologische Quartalschrift, Tubingen.
ThR Theologische Rundschau, Tubingen.
ThWAT Theologisches Worterbuch zum Alten Testament, Stuttgart.
ThWNT Theologisches Worterbuch zum Neuen Testament, Stuttgart.
ThZ Theologische Zeitschrift, Basle.
TLG Thesaurus Linguae Graecae.
TP Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association,
Lancaster, Pa.
TRE Theologische Realenzyklopadie, Berlin.
TS Theological Studies, New York and various places; now Washington,
D.C.
TThZ Trierer theologische Zeitschrift, Trier.
TU Texte und Untersuchungen, Leipzig/Berlin.
USQR Union Seminary Quarterly Review, New York.
VC Vigiliae Christianae, Amsterdam.
VetChr Vetera Christianorum, Bari (Italy).
VT Vetus Testamentum, Leiden.
WBC Word Biblical Commentary, Waco.
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament, Tubingen.
WZKM Wiener Zeitschrift fur die Kunde des Morgenlandes, Vienna.
YUP Yale University Press, New Haven.
ZAC Zeitschrift fur Antikes Christentum, Berlin.
ZAM Zeitschrift fiir Aszese und Mystik, Innsbruck, then Wiirzburg.
ZAW Zeitschrift fiir die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft, Giessen, then Berlin.
ZDPV Zeitschrift des Deutschen Palastina-Vereins, Leipzig.
ZKG Zeitschrift fiir Kirchengeschichte, Gotha, then Stuttgart.
ZKTh Zeitschrift fiir kafholische Theologie, Vienna.
ZN(T)W Zeitschrift fiir die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der
alteren Kirche, Giessen, then Berlin.
ZRG Zeitschrift fiir Rechtsgeschichte, Weimar.
ZThK Zeitschrift fiir Theologie und Kirche, Tubingen.
XIII. Other Greek Writers
Pauline Allen
Rosemary A. Arthur
Antonia Atanassova
Demetrios Bathrellos
Paul M. Blowers
Katharina Bracht
Peter Bruns
Istvan M. Bugar
Catherine Burris
Henry Chadwick
Byoung-Ha Cho
Ysabel de Andia
H.A. Drake
Jan Willem Drijvers
Everett Ferguson
James George
Jean-Noel Guinot
L. Michael Harrington
Petra Heldt
Assaad E. Kattan
Thomas W. Mackay
Ariane Magny
Sebastien Morlet
Joseph G. Mueller
Domenico Pazzini
Marcus Plested
Jean-Marc Prieur
Jon Robertson
James L. Siebach
James D. Smith III
M.C. Steenberg
Peter D. Steiger
Jan-Eric Steppa
Torstein Theodor Tollefsen
Gabino Unbarri
Peter Van Nuffelen
Maxine West
The Syrian Church Through Bishops's Eyes: The Letters of
Theodoret of Cyrrhus and Severus of Antioch1
Pauline Allen, Brisbane
It is my aim in this paper to make a contribution to the somewhat vewed and

neglected area of late antique and Byzantine epistolography2 by a study of the
letters of Theodoret of Cyrrhus and Severus of Antioch. Incidentally I hope to
make a step in the direction of restoring Severus to his rightful place in this epi-
tolographical tradition: although his letters were systematically plundered for
biographical data by Ernest Honigmann in his 1951 monograph on mono-
physite bishops and bishoprics3, and more recently by the editors of the Proso-
pography of the Later Roman Empire, because the letters survive in the main
only in Syriac translations they tend to be ignored by Byzantinists4. Where pos
sible, too, I will be trying to combine in a prudent manner data from the letters
of Theodoret and Severus to help reconstruct some aspects of the Syrian church
in the second half of the fifth century and the first third of the sixth century.
Let us make no mistake: with these two bishops we are dealing with big
personalities and with influential and controversial men. In the case of
1 The research on which this paper is based was made possible by the Australian Research
Council and by Australian Catholic University. For Theodoret's letters I have used the edition of
Y. Azema, Theodoret de Cyr. Correspondance, SC 40, 98, 111, and 429. The first three volumes
were published in Paris in 1955, 1964, and 1965 respectively, and vol. 1 was revised in 1982.
Vol. 4 appeared in 1998. I use the abbreviation SL to refer to E.W. Brooks (ed. and trans.), The
Sixth Book of the Select Letters of Severus Patriarch of Antioch in the Syriac Version of Athana-
sius ofNisibis, vol. 1 (London, 1902; reprint Farnsborough, Hants., 1969 [text]); vol. 2 (London,
1903; reprint Farnsborough, Hants., 1969 [trans.]).
2 For a splendid overview of the problems see P. Hatlie, 'Redeeming Byzantine Epistologra
phy', Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 20 (1996), pp. 213-48 with literature.
3 Eveques et eveches monophysites d'Asie anterieure au VI' siecle, CSCO 127, Subs 2 (Lou-
vain, 1951).
4 Even in the otherwise exemplary studies of Margaret Mullet, 'The Classical Tradition in the
Byzantine Letter', in M. Mullet and R. Scott (eds.), Byzantium and the Classical Tradition, Uni
versity of Birmingham Thirteenth Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies 1979 (Birmingham,
1981), pp. 75-93; eadem, Theophylact of Ochrid. Reading the Letters of a Byzantine Bishop,
Birmingham Byzantine and Ottoman Monographs 2 (Aldershot, 1997); P. Hatlie, 'Redeeming
Byzantine Epistolography'. This negligence of the letters of Severus is being addressed by James
George (Keble College, Oxford), to whom I am indebted for helpful discussions of the matter,
and for kindly allowing me to read and use a draft of his paper 'The Letters of Severus of Anti
och. Some Problems in their Use for the Historian and their Place in the Late Antique Tradition
of Letter Writing'.
4 P. Allen
Theodoret I quote Theresa Urbainczyk: 'Theodoret often provokes strong

opinions, being referred to as "one of the noblest figures in the intellectual
struggles of the Eastern church", "a highly attractive individual", or more crit
ically "however unpleasant Theodoretus may be at times, his is a very genuine
voice'"5. In the case of Severus, the opinions are no less divided. Edward Gib
bon gave him the title 'the tyrant of Syria'. The French church historian Louis
Duchesne accused him of having a cold and fanatical soul and of continuing a
regrettable schism, which it would have been easy for him to mitigate6. On the
credit side, according to Honigmann, Severus had a rare talent and was an
imposing personality7. Dom Alexandre Olivar has called him one of the great
est orators of the early church8.
There are problems associated with the surviving letters of both bishops,
and there are problems too with a combined reading of the data which their let
ters contain. In the first part of the paper I will deal with these difficulties; in
the second part I will look briefly at some of the positives of such a combined
reading. But first a word on the historical background.
Theodoret, we believe, died in c. 460, perhaps in 4669; Severus was born
probably a few years to a decade earlier, in c. 456. It must be said at the out
set that neither Theodoret nor Severus would have welcomed being treated
together in this paper. As a friend and supporter of Nestorius, the former was
anathema to the latter, who in his turn was a continuator of the christology of
Cyril of Alexandria. In his polemical works Severus describes Theodoret in
such complimentary terms as 'loathsome', 'moaning', 'godless', and display
ing 'his deceitful impiety in his filthy discourse'10. After the Council of Chal-
cedon, the bishopric of Cyrrhus, under the jurisdiction of the metropolitan of
Hierapolis (Mabbug), experienced opposition to the rise of the anti-Chal-
cedonian movement. After Philoxenus became metropolitan of Hierapolis in
485, he had to erase Theodoret 's name from the diptychs in Cyrrhus and for
bid his commemoration. Bishop Sergius I of Cyrrhus, however, was present at
the consecration of Severus in Antioch in 512, and in 514 Severus delivered
Homilies 58, 59, ad 60 in Cyrrhus. After Sergius' expulsion as a result of the
Chalcedonian restoration in 518, he was succeeded by Sergius II, a Nestorian,
during whose incumbency an image of Theodoret was paraded through the
5 Theodoret of Cyrrhus. The Bishop and the Holy Man (Ann. Arbor, 2002), p. 3.
6 L'dglise an Vlimt siecle (Paris, 1925), pp. 99-100.
7 Eveques et eveches, pp. 18-19.
8 'Sever d'Antioquia et la historia de la predicaci6', Revista Catalana di Teologia 5 (1980),
403.
9 See I.R. Tomkins, 'The Relations between Theodoret of Cyrrhus and His City and Its Ter
ritory, with Particular Reference to the Letters and Historia Religiosa' (DPhil thesis, Oxford,
1993), p. 14, on the possible dates.
10 'Loathsome': Ad NephaliumOratio II, CSCO 65, p. 12; 'moaning': ibid.,p. 14; 'godless':
Contra impium Grammaticum Or. III.14, CSCO 45, p. 246; 'his deceitful impiety in his filthy
discourse': ibid., p. 248.
The Letters of Theodoret of Cyrrhus and Severus of Antioch 5
town with great ceremony11. There is a certain irony in the fact that, if
Theodoret was a native Syriac-speaker, as we have some reason to believe12,
his letters survive in his elegant Greek prose, whereas those of Severus, a
native Greek-speaker from Pisidia, who seems also to have been a competent
stylist, have come down to us almost exclusively in Syriac translations.
I turn now to some of the problems we encounter in dealing with the cor
respondence of Theodoret and Severus.
Firstly, there is a problem with the percentage of the presumed total of the
letters of each bishop that is preserved. From the Byzantine period in general
we have over 150 collections of letters, containing possibly around 15,000 let
ters13. This is an indication of the centrality of the letter in Byzantine society
and literature, although the famous pronouncement of one scholar that "The
average Byzantine letter is about as concrete, informative and personal as the
modern mass-produced greetings card'14 would have a good number of sup
porters. It is obvious, however, that the approximately 15,000 letters extant
from Byzantium represent - as is the case in classical antiquity, in the Latin
West, and indeed in other civilizations — only a portion of what was actually
written. In the fourteenth century Nicephorus Callistus had access to over 500
of Theodoret's letters15, which still may not have been the total written by the
bishop of Cyrrhus, whereas today we have only 232, or less than half the num
ber available to Nicephorus16. Severus' case is much worse. It is estimated that
the total number of letters written by him must have exceeded 3,759 (I shall
return to discuss the calculation of this curious cipher later), of which fewer
11 For a discussion of these events, see R. Devreesse, Le patriarcat d'Antioche depuis la paix
de I'Eglise jusqu'a la conquete arabe (Paris, 1945), pp. 284-5; Honigmann, Eveques et eveches,
pp. 68-70. There are two extant letters from Severus to Sergius I: SL V.15, and LXXXVIII. See
SL V.12; Brooks, pp. 341-2 for Severus' disgust at the Nestorianizing of Sergius II.
12 For a discussion of this, see Urbainczyk, Theodoret of Cyrrhus, pp. 14-19, who, however,
believes that all we can say with certainty is that Theodoret 'understood Syriac and was very pro
ficient in Greek' (p. 18).
13 These are the figures given by Mullet, Theophylact ofOchrid, p. 75.
14 G. Dennis, The Letters of Manuel II Palaeologos, Dumbarton Oaks Texts 4 = Corpus
fontium historiae Byzantinae 8 (Washington, DC, 1977), p. xix.
15 HE XIV.54.
16 See M. Richard, 'La lettre de Theodoret a Jean d'Egees', Les Sciences Philosophiques et
Theologiques 2 (1941-1942), 415 (= no. 48 in Richard, Opera Minora 2 Turnhout-Leuven,
1977). On Theodoret's correspondence see M. Wagner, 'A Chapter in Byzantine Epistolography:
the Letters of Theodoret of Cyrus', DOP 4 (1948), pp. 121-79; C. Spadavecchia, 'The Rhetori
cal Tradition in the Letters of Theodoret of Cyrus', in V. Vavfinek (ed.), From Late Antiquity to
Early Byzantium. Proceedings of the Byzantinological Symposium in the 16'h International
Eirene Conference (Prague, 1985), pp. 249-52; I.R. Tomkins, "The Relations'; idem, 'Problems
of Dating and Pertinence in Some Letters of Theodoret of Cyrrhus', Byz 65 (1995), 176-95.
6 P. Allen
than 300 survive, less than one-fifteenth of the presumed total17. Such statistics
point immediately to an initial methodological problem in dealing with ancient
letters: fascinating and informative, or artificial and tedious, as these works
may be, they can offer only a partial reflection of the persons who penned
them.
A second problem concerns the rationale of ancient letter-collections. Here
the news is not good either. 'We rarely know in Byzantium how the collection
came into being', we are told pessimistically, 'and we can never be certain of
its original arrangement'18. This holds true for classical antiquity and for both
Christian and pagan late antiquity as well: in Libanius' correspondence, for
example, which has not been preserved in its entirety, we have varying num
bers of letters from year to year, and probably more for some periods than for
others19. In a different case, we know that Gregory Nazianzen made a collec
tion of the letters of Basil of Caesarea and it is speculated that the letters to the
same addressees were originally grouped together20, but were subsequently
subjected to heavy scribal intervention which has resulted in a lack of fidelity
in the text21. The coming into being of Basil's letter-collection has in fact
received considerable scholarly attention compared wih that of other authors,
and in the course of this conference we have been told by Professors Fedwick
and Chadwick about further developments.
The rationale behind the collections of Theodoret's letters is not always
clear. First of all, as Marcel Richard noted over sixty years ago, almost all of
them date from the years 431-437 or from 444-45 122; thus we have sparse evi
dence for 437 to 444, and only fragments of one letter23 from the years
between Chalcedon and Theodoret's death. Firstly, we have the so-called Col-
lectio Sirmondiana, named after its first editor, which comprises 147 letters;
secondly, we have forty-seven letters in the Collectio Sakkelionis, also named
after its first editor, and another five letters which are duplicated of letters in
the Collectio Sirmondiana74. Another group, for which the rationale is clear,
17 See Brooks, SL 2, pp. LX-X; P. Allen, 'Severus of Antioch and Pastoral Care', in P. Allen,
W. Mayer, and L. Cross (eds.), Prayer and Spirituality in the Early Church, vol. 2 (Brisbane,
1999), pp. 388-9.
18 Mullett, Theophylact ofOchrid, p. 19.
19 See J.H.W.G. Liebeschuetz, Antioch: City and Imperial Administration in the Later Roman
Empire (Oxford, 1972), p. 23.
20 R. Deferrari, Saint Basil. The Letters, vol. 1 (Cambridge, Mass-London, 1972), p. xxxviii,
n. 1. For a study of the information contained in Basil's letters, see B. Gain, L'Eglise de Cap-
padoce au W siecle d'apres la correspondence de Basile de Cesaree (330-379), OCA 225
(Rome, 1985).
21 On this see Hatlie, 'Redeeming Byzantine Epistolography', pp. 235-6 with literature; P.J.
Fedwick, Bibliotheca Basiliana Universalis: A Study of the Manuscript Tradition of the Works of
Basil of Caesarea, vol. 1, The Letters (Turnhout, 1993), pp. xxviii-xxxi and 665-8.
22 'La lettre de Theodoret a Jean d'Egees', p. 415.
23 See Richard, ibid., pp. 415-23.
24 For the details see Tomkins, 'The Relations', p. 26.
has come down to us in conciliar documents concerning the Council of Eph-

esus. This comprises thirty-two letters in Latin translation, and four in Greek.
Further there are two letters outside these groups25.
Theodoret's letters, as published by Yvan Azema last century, appeared in
four volumes, the first volume containing the Collectio Sakkelionis, volumes
two and three the Collectio Sirmondiana, and volume 4 the conciliar evidence.
The letters in the first volume range in all probability from 423/42926 to about
April 448 (Letter XVI). On some occasions consecutive letters are addressed
to the same person, but cannot be dated27. In other cases, for example, to Aerius
the sophist (VII, X, XXIII, L), or to Isocasius the sophist (XXVII-XXVIII,
XXXVIII, XLIV, an LII), they are spread through the collection. The letters in
volume two in Azema's edition range from possibly before 431 (66 and 67) to
the end of 448. Festal letters tend to be grouped together according to years28.
On the other hand, Letter 8 to Eugraphia in this volume is posterior to Letter
69 to her, and Letter 1 1 to Flavian in volume two is posterior to Letter 104 to
him in volume three. The rationale for the collection published in volume
three, dating from the end of 448 to 45 1 , when Theodoret was embroiled in
conciliar controversies, is more transparent: the more self-involded the dis
graced bishop of Cyrrhus became, the easier it was to order the letters chrono
logically29.
Severus' letters30 have also come down to us in various groups, almost
invariably in Syriac translations. Originally they were divided into three
classes: those before his episcopacy (before 512); those during his episcopacy
(512-518); and those after his expulsion from his see in 518 until his death in
538. These classes contained four, ten, and nine books, respectively, but there
were letters outside these twenty-three books. The ancient division into
classes, notwithstanding the letters which are obviously missing, enabled
Brooks to calculate the figure of 3,759+ for the total of Severus' letters. In the
first group we have 123 letters translated by the priest Athanasius of Nisibis in
669, the so-called Select Letters. These deal solely with ecclesiastical affairs
and are not in chronological order. However, at the beginning of each letter its
place in the original collection of twenty-three books is stated. In the second
group we have 117 scattered letters, preserved in many cases fragmentarily in
25 See further ibid., pp. 26-7.

26 Letters XXXII and XLV to Theodotus, bishop of Antioch from 423-429.
27 E.g., VIII and IX to the magistrates at Zeugma; XXVII and XXVIII to the sophist Isoca
sius.
28 Letters 4-6, 25-26, 38-39, 54-56, 63-64.
29 On Theodoret's christological preoccation in the letters composed during this period (Let
ters 21, 83, 85, 101, 104, 131, and 146), see S.-P. Bergjan, Theodoret von Cyrus und der Neu-
nizdnismus. Aspekte der Altkirchlichen Trinitdtslehre, Arbeiten zur Kirchengeschichte 60
(Berlin-New York, 1994), p. 197-8.
30 The following paragraph is a summary of my paper 'Severus of Antioch and Pastoral
Care', pp. 388-9.
8 P. Allen
twenty-eight manuscripts. In only twenty-six of these do we find any indica

tion of what book the letter originally belonged to. Other letters have come
down to us in the works of other anti-Chalcedonian authors, such as in the
Ecclesiastical History of ps.-Zachariah Scholasticus31, at least four survive in
Coptic translations and two in Arabic32, and there are some unedited letters33.
With regard to the Select Letters, it seems that their translator, Athanasius, or
someone else, 'ordered' them. The preface to the collection runs:
He that meets with this book must know that it is not only the topics mentioned in the
sectional titles that are included in the letters arranged under these, but that most of
them also contain or set forth matter relating to various subjects. However, they have
been arranged under each of the sections in accordance with the larger part of the mat
ter expressed in them.
The sections of the sixth book of the select or chosen letters, taken from the letters of
the blessed Severus, patriarch of Antioch in Syria, on doctrines and the words of Scrip
ture34.
There follow eleven sections of letters, ostensibly arranged under the topics,
as promised. The division is sometimes unhappy. Section eight provides an
extreme example of this:
About men who cut off their genital members, and about men who have them cut off
through necessity, and about men who killed themselves in time of martyrdom, and
that is the custom in many churches for the glories and praises of the saints to be
read35.
Section eleven, whose stated topic is 'That a man who can help or assist the
right confession while engaged in state affairs must not become a monk'36,
contains only one letter.
Within the books of the Select Letters the order is mostly, but not always,
chronological37, to the extent that the letters are assigned to one of the three
periods before episcopacy, during episcopacy, and exile. However, given
Severus' long time in banishment (518-538), having a letter assigned to that
period does not take us very far.
The person who selected Severus' letters and ordered them after a fashion in
Select Letters seems to have had a keen interest in canon law and ecclesiasti
cal discipline. It was also the case, however, that Severus himself had a legal
31 WELX.il, 13,16,20,22,23.
32 See CPG 7070 (9), (12), (13), and (14), (15), and (16), respectively.
33 See S.P. Brock, 'Some New Letters of the Patriarch Severos', SP XII, TU 115 (Berlin,
1975), pp. 17-24; idem, 'Severus's Letter to John the Soldier', Gottinger Orientforschung, Reihe
1. Syriaca, 17 (1978), pp. 53-75.
34 Brooks, SL, p. 1.
37 See Book Seven, Letter 1 (during episcopacy), and Letter 2 (before episcopacy).
mind38, and that a significant part of his administrative load during his episco
pate, and his main concern during exile, were to ensure that the anti-Chal-
cedonian church remained authentic, and free from defections both from and
to Chalcedonianism.
If we are using the letters of Theodoret and Severus to view the Syrian
church, some considerations of the evidence available from their other works
which bear on the same subject cannot be sidestepped, particularly if we are to
take into account their pastoral activity in their roles as homilists. Here we are
on uneven ground if we try to relate the letters of both bishops to their homi
lies. While Severus' letters add much background and texture to his homilies,
Theodoret's letters cannot really be related to his preaching activity because
no corpus of his homilies has come down to us. All we have is one complete
homily (CPG 6224) and fragments in Photius' Bibliotheca, in conciliar acta,
and, ironically, in the polemical works of Severus (CPG 6225-6231). No doubt
Theodoret was an active and talented preacher too - certainly he would have
us believe that he was.
The locus classicus is found in Letter 125, dating from 449-450, where the
disgraced bishop of Cyrrhus speaks about his detractors :
They used to praise what I said in Antioch, both when they were my brothers, and
when they had become readers, and ordained as deacons and presbyters and bishops.
And at the end of my homily they would embrace me and kiss my head and my breast
and my hands. Some of them would even touch my knees, calling my teaching that of
the Apostles39.
There are numerous other passages in the letters were Theodoret speaks ful-
somely of his preaching activity in Syria, claiming that he has preached to
'many thousands' or multitudes40, and has taught without trouble throughout
the incumbencies of three bishops of Antioch41, but these passages derive from
works composed during his time of disgrace when he was confined to his see,
and are instances of special pleading to defend the orthodoxy of his christo-
logical position. His point in letters from this period is uniformly that in his
preaching career he has countless witnesses to the fact that he said nothing that
was contrary to apostoliec teaching or to the faith of Nicaea.
Severus' homilies, on the other hand, are a wonderfully rich source for the
life of the Syrian church within a six-year span, not only of the church in Anti
och, but also of the churches and monasteries in the hinterland of the metropo
lis. Here the full gamut of church life is exposed42, in contrast to the ecclesias
38 On this point see V. Poggi, 'Severo di Antiochia alla Scuola di Beirut', L'eredita classica
nelle lingue orientali (Rome, 1986), pp. 57-71; R. Roux, L'extgise biblique dans les Homelies
Cathedrales de Severe d'Antioche, Stadia Ephemeridis Augustinianum 84 (Rome, 2002).
39 Azema, vol. 3, p. 96, 11-16.
40 E.g., Letter 83: Azema, vol. 2, p. 208, 1-2; Letter 104: Azema, vol. 3, p. 24, 13-14.
41 Letter 83: Azema, vol. 2, p. 208.
42 See P. Allen, 'A Bishop's Spirituality: the Case of Severus of Antioch', in P. Allen,
10 P.Allen
tical, canonical, and disciplinary minutiae contained in many of his letters

which have survived.
If we cannot relate Theodoret's correspondence to his homiletic activity, it
must be admitted that from Severus we have nothing comparable to
Theodoret's Ecclesiastical History or his Historia Religiosa, or counterparts to
Theodoret's systematic biblical commentaries. On the other hand, Severus'
hymns and liturgical works were important in the church of Syria both in his
lifetime and well after it. One of his six biographers, John of Beith Aphthonia,
tells us that, because the people of Antioch loved songs, either those of the the
atre or those of the church, their patriarch set about composing hymns for
them, in order to save them from the perdition of the theatre and to encourage
them to attend church43. In fact, in the Octoechus of Syria, a hymn-book in
which the works are arranged according to the eight tones to which they were
sung, 295 of the 365 hymns are attributed to Severus.
My contention is that the letters of both bishops need to be used as much as
possible to round out our pictures of these men which we have from their
works. This is far more easily done in the case of Severus, the remains of
whose letters are mostly factual, serious, business-like, and informative, than
in the case of Theodoret, where vagueness, rhetoric, and, later, self-involve
ment abound. We know that the messenger or deliverer of the letter was meant
to fill in for the recipient the personal details which had been communicated to
them from the writer, but Theodoret's messengers were often carrying letters
which were devoid of any information whatsoever about the church of Syria,
or anything else, for that matter44.
I come back to this question in the next section, where I will be dealing with
the extent of the use of rhetoric in the letters of both bishops, and the problems
which its use or apparent non-use entails.
While Theodoret's epistolographical style was analysed in Wagner's mono
graph over fifty years ago, Severus' is still waiting for a treatment which, of
course, will probably never come because of the fact that his letters survive
almost totally in Syriac translations. In the letters of both bishops we find the
standard expressions of joy at the reception of a letter, anxiety at its delay,
wishes for the health of the recipient, apologies for a delay in replying, and
statements about keeping the letter to a moderate length. Theodoret's style was
praised by Photius for its clarity and simplicity45. We know that the bishop of
Cyrrhus employed various types of prooimia, ingratiatory devices, or propae
deutic, and concluding formulae including the customary greeting before the
R. Canning, and L. Cross (eds.), Prayer and Spirituality in the Early Church, vol. 1 (Brisbane
1998), pp. 169-80.
43 Life of Severus, PO 2/3, pp. 244-5.
44 On this see Tomkins, 'The Relations', p. 29; on obscurity in letters and the role of the mes
senger, see Hatlie, 'Redeeming Byzantine Epistolography', p. 221 with n. 27.
45 Bibliotheca, cod. 31, 46, 56, 203-205.
clausula. He favours paronomasia as a device, and uses stock metaphors and

comparisons from the rhetorical schools, such as athletic images and images of
the sea and seafaring. Bees, honey, and chameleons are well represented. Yet
not all letters begin or end with the standard literary conventions; sometimes
they are missing completely, or else Theodoret substitutes something in their
stead46. However, in the case of both bishops, their letters were intended
almost invariably for a learned audience both in Syria and elsewhere. In
Theodoret's correspondence, as in that of Severus, few 'little people' appear47,
and the letter-bearers themselves were of some status. Indeed, canon 1 1 of the
Council of Chalcedon, reinforcing the canons of previous councils, legislated
on certain types of letter-bearers, decreeing that
subject to examination, all paupers and needy persons are to travel with ecclesiastical
letters or letters of peace only, and not of commendation, since it befits only reputable
persons to be provided with letters of commendation48.
I have already had cause to remark that many of Theodoret's letters are
extremely vague. This is particularly so with the festal letters, in which the
bishop sends Easter greetings, as evidenced by Letter 2649.
Without ceasing, the fountains of the Master's bounty pour out benefits for believers.
But the feastdays commemorating the greatest advantages bring something more to
those who celebrate with extra enthusiasm. Having completed the celebrations on the
present occasion and drawn benefit from them, we address Your Piety, for the law both
of the feast and of love enjoins this50.
Most of the letters to monastics are also generic and vague. The elegant but
empty Letter 28, addressed to Jacob, priest and monk, is a good example.
Those who have been distinguished in the prime of life by their works of virtue
advance joyfully towards old age, rejoicing on the one hand at their former victories,
while being delivered by their old age from further struggles. I think that Your Piety
also has this pleasure and bears old age more easily by remembering the works of your
youth51.
Since Theodoret's correspondents numbered pagans and sophists, it was
natural that the bishop of Cyrrhus would use his classical training in his letters
to them. Thus Letter XXIII to the sophist Aerius contains allusions to Thucy
46 See Wagner, A Chapter in Byzantine Epistolography, p. 181.

47 Wagner, A Chapter in Byzantine Epistolography, p. 127.
48 Tr. N.P. Tanner, Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, vol. 1, Nicaea to Lateran V (Lon
don-Washington DC, 1990), p. 92. See Hatlie, 'Redeeming Byzantine Epistolography', p. 221 n.
27 for literature on the role of the messenger.
49 On the genre of festal letters, which in Syria and elsewhere were written after Easter and
other feasts, as opposed to Egyptian festal letters, which were written to announce the Paschal
feast, see M.F.A. Brok, 'A propos des lettres festales', VC 5 (1951), 101-10.
50 Azema, vol. 2, p. 84.
51 Azema, vol. 2, p. 86.
12 P. Allen
dides and Homer, Letter LII to the sophist Isocasius refers to Sophocles and
Menander. However, classical allusions also occur side by side with biblical or
Christian references in letters to cultivated Christian correspondents as well. In
Letter 21 to the scholasticus Eusebius, Theodoret cites liberally and freely
from Paul's letter to the Romans, then turns to Plato, Demosthenes, Thucy-
dides, and Homer. Letter 62 to the priest John opens with a citation from ps.-
Pythagoras.
In so far as we can judge, the use of classical allusions was not part-and-par-
cel of Severus' epitolographical style; at least their use is not detectable
throught the veil of the Syriac translations. While it may be the case that they
were discarded by the translators with a view to making the contents of the let
ters more intelligible for Syriac readers, one or two of Severus' own comments
suggest that he was a Christian purist. Writing during his episcopate to the
clergy of the metropolis of Apamea, the patriarch of Antioch says,
Your love of God, marked out as you are by the orders of the holy clergy of the church,
and addressing a bishop, and upon a spiritual subject, ought not to have cited the rhetor
of Greece in the preludes or beginnings [prooimia] of your admirable letter. In due
time Elijah the Tishbite, urged by the same zeal, will now say to you also, 'Is it
because there is not a prophet in Israel that ye go down to inquire of the fly-Baal, the
abomination of the gods of Ekron?' [4 Kgs 1:3]. Fitly also will the book of Proverbs
reprove you which says, 'Drink waters out of thy vessels and out of the spring of thy
wells' [Prov 5: 15]52.
In another letter, addressed to Musonius and Alexander, the vindices or tax
officials of Anazarba in Cilicia Secunda, the patriarch writes,
As to Martyrius the poet, whom you made the occasion of the letter, I wish you to
know that he is a trouble to me, and a nuisance. Indeed in the case of the others also
who follow the same profession, and were enrolled in the holy clergy of the church that
is with us, I have debarred them from practising such poetry; and I am taking much
trouble to sever this theatrical pursuit from ecclesiastical gravity and modesty, a pur
suit that is the mother of laxity, and is also capable of causing youthful souls to relax
and casting them into the mire of fornication, and carrying them away to bestial pas
sions53.
Because many of Severus' translated letters are extracts or have survived
fragmentarily, it is not always easy to assess whether, like Theodoret, he dis
pensed sometimes with prooimia. The most problematical cases are those pub
lished in PO 12, where we can be almost certain that several of the prooimia
did not survive the process of selection, editing, and/or translation54. Where we
52 SL I.30; tr. Brooks, pp. 92-3.

53 SL I.27; tr. Brooks, pp. 88-9.
54 See, e.g., Letter V: p. 195, and Letter VI: p. 196. Cf. George, 'The Letters of Severus of
Antioch': 'The proemia and conclusions are the most likely elements to contain evidence of
rhetorical practices. But not only are these the most likely parts to have been lost and not been
have prooimia, however, they are used in a rhetorical way, such as in SL V.l 1 :
'I owe thanks to God that after the winter-season I have again heard your
sweet and cheerful voice'65, after which there is talk of flowers and meadows.
At other times Severus goes in medias res56 or begins with a scriptural quota
tion57.
Both Theodoret and Severus employ special pleading when it comes to the
financial state of their respective jurisdictions, a fact that I will consider in the
second part of this paper when we come to assess the economic situation in
Syria.
Another problem which we encounter in combining the evidence of
Theodoret's and Severus' letters is the disparity in the contents and sub-genres
of their letter-writing. From Theodoret's extant letters, written during his three
decades as bishop of Cyrrhus, we have twelve festal letters58, containing
annual Easter greetings from the bishop, which are usually quite short, formal,
and, as I have said, uninformative. In Severus' epistolary legacy we have not
a single festal letter, although presumably he composed six of them. Again,
from Theodoret we have at least nine letters of consolation59, some of them
quite moving and personal60, whereas from Severus we seem to have perhaps
only one extant, that adressed to the priest-archimandrite Elisha, in which, as
James George observes, the 'familiar complaints of the epitaphios logos are
clear'61. However, the letter is not dedicated solely to the death of the priest
John, but covers a number of other topics.
There is a similar imbalance in the numbers of letters of recommendation
which have come down to us from both bishops. In Theodoret's surviving let
ters we have sixteen, where he acts on behalf of sophists (XI and 20), a priest-
doctor (114-115), and refugees from Vandal invasions62. In Severus' letters we
have nothing similar. In one letter he asks mercy for the letter-bearer63, another
refers to a letter of recommendation that he wrote on behalf of the wife of
made a part of the collection, they are also, along with no longer relevant historical detail, the
most likely targets for a scribe to leave out, being neither relevant to his purpose nor perhaps
suited to his literary tastes'.
55 Tr. Brooks, p. 325.
56 E.g., Utter XCVI: PO 14/1, p. 181.
57 E.g., SL I.4: Brooks, p. 23; I.39: Brooks, pp. 1 10-1 1 ; I.41 : Brooks, p. 1 16 (allusion); I.48:
Brooks, p. 130; and often.
58 Letters 4-6, 25-26, 38-39, 54-56, 63-64.
59 Letters XLVII, XLVIII, 7-8, 14-15, 17-18, 69.
60 On this see Wagner, A Chapter in Byzantine Epistolography, pp. 157-60; Tomkins, 'The
Relations', p. 191.
61 Letter 34: PO 12/2, pp. 269-71. Letter CXVII (PO 14/1, pp. 285-90) to the patrician Cae-
saria may be part of a letter of consolation; the nature of the fragmentary Letter LX (PO 12/2,
pp. 339-40) is to my mind not clear.
62 Letters XX, XXIII, 29-35, 52, 70.
63 SL I.37.
14 P. Allen
John, count of Antaradus in Phoenicia Maritima64, and in another he com

mends the letter-bearer65. That is all we have in the surviving letters.
When it comes to letters to monastics, however, we have a startling contrast
which makes it difficult to relate the dealings of a Syrian bishop in the mid-
fifth century to those of the patriarch of Antioch in the first third of the sixth
century66. Despite the fact that in his Historia Religiosa Theodoret mentions
that there were numerous monasteries around Cyrrhus67, it is much more likely
that there were few monasteries in the region in the fifth century because the
eremitical life predominated in the area68. It is, after all, individual virtuosic
ascetics who are centre stage in the Historia Religiosa, although there was
often movement between the eremitic and communal life and vice versa69.
Convents of nuns in this part of Syria were perhaps more common than
monasteries70. In any case, it appears that, in contrast to the area around Anti
och and Apamea, at this time communal life in and around Cyrrhus was not
significant71. It is probably only a century or so after Theodoret's death that
monasteries such as the famous one at Goubba Baraya near Cyrrhus were in a
flourishing condition72. Theodoret's surviving letters to monastics are in the
main vague letters of friendship in which he asks for addressees' prayers. Let
ter 27 is a message of consolation to Aquilinus, a deacon and archimandrite,
and Letter 146 to the monks of Constantinople is a long letter of self-defence
containing a statement of Theodoret's christological position. Otherwise there
is little to suggest the interpersonal dynamic between bishop and monastics
which we find in the Historia Religiosa.
Severus' letters to monastics, on the other hand, supply us with vital infor
mation about the organization of monasteries in the patriarchate of Antioch
and the respective roles of the bishop and the archimandrite with regard to
these establishments. A good example of the level of detail to which we are
privy in SL I.43, which is addressed to the unnamed archimandrite of the
famous monastery of St Simeon Stylites the Elder at Qa'lat Sim'an73. A monk
64 SL IV.6.
65 SL VII.6.
66 On Syrian monasticism in general, see P. Canivet, Le monachisme syrien selon Theodoret
de Cyr, Theologie historique 41 (Paris, 1977); P. Escolan, Monachisme et Eglise. Le monachisme
syrien du TV' au VII' siecle, Theologie historique 109 (Paris, 1999).
67 HR 30.5, 6; cf. Urbainczyk, Theodoret of Cyrrhus, p. 80: 'Theodoret comments on how
numerous monasteries were, and this is borne out by his text.'
68 P. Canivet, Le monachise syrien, p. 209.
69 On this point see, e.g., G. Gould, The Desert Fathers on Monastic Community (Oxford,
1993), pp. 88-106.
70 So conjectures Tomkins, 'The Relations', p. 183.
71 Tomkins, 'The Relations', p. 179.
72 On the location of Goubba Barraya, see Honigman, Eveques et eveches, p. 205.
73 More details on the question of the administration of monsteries are found in my paper
'Severus of Antioch and Pastoral Care', pp. 397-9.
belonging to this monastery, a certain Nonnus, even before embracing the

monastic life had often been charged and summonsed for illicit financial deal
ings74. Finally he was placed under injunction by the ecclesiastical court, and
made a clandestine visit to Severus by night, hoping in this way to clear the
matter up. Severus then sent him another summons through the archimandrite,
giving Nonnus ten days' grace to appear in court. After twenty days and no
response, the patriarch wrote to Nonnus again through the archimandrite.
Meanwhile, the bishops who were to sit in judgement on the case had been
waiting in Antioch all this time, so that Severus had even considered the pos
sibility of asking secular judges to take over the case. The fact that this proce
dure was expressly forbidden by canon law75, however, dissuaded him from
this course of action.
From this and other letters of Severus to monastic establishments in Syria it
is clear that by the first quarter of the sixth century, a certain protocol had been
established with regard to the exercise of the bishop's responsibilities. The
archimandrite was the person who in the first instance was responsible for the
monks; on all matters he was approached by the bishop, and the monks were
approached only through him. The bishop had the right, however, to lay down
the law on matters of ordination76, although even here the formal consent of
the archimandrite for the monk's ordination was required77. The reception of
heretics into monasteries78 and the dismissal of monks from their communities
(which did not involve a dismissory letter or similar permission as it did in the
case of clergy)79 also fell within patriarchal jurisdiction.
I come now to consider some of the pastoral concerns of our two Syrian
bishops80. As presented in the letters, these concerns naturally vary because of
the make-up of the letter-collections involved and the personal situation of
each bishop. Theodoret travelled a great deal outside his territory, a fact borne
out by Letters 77 and 78, where he gives advice outside his see that caused his
demise at the Council of Epheus, where he was accused of summoning coun
cils at his own discretion. He tells us on several occasions that he preached in
Antioch, and this, it appears, he did on a regular basis over decades81. In the
74 See Council of Chalcedon, canon 3 ('Against a cleric or monk concerning himself with
other people's business') and canon 4 ('Against monks doing anything against the will of their
own bishop, or founding a monastery, or taking on worldly concerns').
75 See, e.g., Council of Chalcedon, canon 9 ('Against clerics going to a secular court; they are
to bring the case before their own bishop').
76 See, e.g., SL I.55, I.59, and I.60.
77 SL V11.6.
78 SL V.9.
79 SL X.6.
80 On the topic of pastoral care in late antiquity with special reference to John Chrysostom
and Severus, see P. Allen and W. Mayer, 'Through a Bishop's Eyes: Towards a Definition of
Pastoral Care in Late Antiquity', Aug 40 (2000), 345-97.
81 See Letter 83: Azema, vol. 2, p. 208.
16 P.Allen
letters written after his disgrace, where he was at pains to demonstrate his
orthodoxy, we find numerous references to his pastoral activities involving the
conversion of heretics: he brought, we are told, eight villages of Marcionites
to the truth, one village of Eunomians, and one village of Arians, and he
claims that he was frequently assaulted and stoned for his efforts82. He was
also supposedly responsible for having over 10,000 baptized83, a figure sup
posedly surpassed a century later by that other master of Syrian hagiography,
John of Ephesus ('80,000 were converted and rescued from paganism')84- In
the Haereticarum fabularum compendium Theodoret tells us that he removed
two hundred copies of Tatian's Diatessaron from his see, putting in their place
copies of the four separate Gospels85.
I have already mentioned Theodoret' s letters of consolation, in which gen
uine sentiments of pastoral concern are evident. He was equally pastoral in
acting as patron for certain persons from Africa who had ended up as refugees
in Syria in the aftermath of the Vandal invasions. Thus he writes to his fre
quent correspondent, the sophist Aerius, to request patronage for the refugee
Maximianus (Letter XXIH) and sends no fewer than eight letters (29-36) to
various bishops and functionaries on behalf of Celestiacus, a refugee from
Carthage. Letter 70 is addressed to Eustathius, bishop of Aigiai in Cilicia
Secunda, on behalf of a young noblewoman, Maria, a refugee from Libya, who
together wih her servant was sold into slavery and ended up in Syria. Maria
was ransomed by some soldiers while Theodoret was absent from his diocese,
but the bishop eventually arranged accommodation for her with a deacon, and
then facilitated her repatriation to the West by sending her to a fair in Aigiai
where merchants would take het back to her father86. Letters 52 and 53 are
written on behalf of Cyprian, a Lybian bishop. Two letters (XXVII and
XXVUI) to the sophist Isocasius demonstrate Theodoret's interest in securing a
formal rhetorical education for young men in his see. On a more practical level
the bishop assists his pagan friend Isocasius by sending him a skilled wood
turner (Letter XXXVIII), and puts at the disposal of a functionary (archon) of
Hieropolis a deacon who was a water-diviner or well-sinker (Letter 37). Ari-
obindus, the powerful patrician and magister militum*1, is requested for
drought relief (Letter 23). Unlike Severus' letters, those of Theodoret demon
strate little interest in matters of canon law, but this may be attributable to the
82 Letter 81: Azema, vol. 2, p. 196-8.

83 Letter 146: Azema, vol. 3, p. 188.
84 John of Ephesus, Lives of the Eastern Saints, PO 18, p. 681.
85 PG 83, 372A. See further Tomkins, 'The Relations', pp. 248-252.
86 On the ransoming of captives as part of a bishop's pastoral care, see W. Klingshirn, 'Char
ity and Power: Caesarius of Aries and the Ransoming of Captives in Sub-Roman Gaul', JRS 75
(1985), 183-203.
87 J.R. Martindale, The Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, vol. II, A.D. 395-527
(Cambridge, 1980), pp. 145-6.
rationale, or lack thereof, in the compiling of the letter-collections. All we

have are two letters to the magistrates of the town of Zeugma warning about
incestuous marriages (Letters VII and VIII), and a letter concerning, inter alia,
the ordination of men who had been married twice (Letter 110). Theodoret's
building activity, comprising porticoes, bridges, and an equeduct, as well as
the maintenance of the public baths, which is mentioned in Letters 79,81, and
139, is probably to be related to his aristocratic upbringing and his concept of
Hellenistic public philanthropia rather than to a pastoral concern88. The epis
tolary interventions of the bishop of Cyrrhus with the imperial government
with the aim of reducing the taxation on tenant farmers in his jurisdiction will
be discussed later in connection with the economy of Syria.
In Severus' surviving correspondence there is scarcely a letter in which
there is not a consideration of the problem of Chalcedon. As I have already
had cause to remark, one of Severus' preoccupations, at least in his surviving
letters, is the reception of clergy from the Chalcedonian side. He is adamant
that they not be re-ordained, but must make a written statement or plerophoria
anathematizing their former beliefs, after which there is a mandatory period of
separation for penitence, at the discretion of the bishop89. He is also consulted
by his correspondents with regard to the proper conduct vis-a-vis Chalcedo-
nians and their churches90, and is expected to provide advice on matters of
scriptural interpretation and christology91. Unlike Theodoret, Severus does not
seem to have engaged in philanthropia to any great extent: there is a reference
to the construction of a well which the patriarch financed through a loan92, and
the mention of a small gift which he sent to a new monastery93 - in both cases
he refers pointedly to the financial embarrassment of his see. Whether we are
again at the mercy of the rationale behind the letter-collection, or whether
Severus had indeed used up his large patrimony founding the monastery near
Gaza, as one of his biographers would have us believe94, is unclear. On the
positive side, we learn a great deal from Severus' letters about his life in exile:
nobody knew where he was living except those who brought him the necessi
ties of life95; he was forever on the move, sometimes changing his abode when
some news reached him96; and even for those who did know where he was,
88 On this point I follow Tomkins, 'The Relations', pp. 85-8, who also discusses contrary
views.
89 SL I.60: Brooks, p. 201.
90 See, e.g., SL IV.9 and 10.
91 See, e.g., Letters LXIX and LXXI for scriptural interpretation and Letter XCVII for chris
tology.
92 SL I.42.
93 SL I.35.
94 John of Beith Aphthonia, PO 2/3, p. 229.
95 SL V.12: Brooks, p. 339.
96 SL V.12: Brooks, p. 341.
18 P.Allen
access appears to have been possible only through certain officials97. Despite
the isolation, however, the sophisticated networks which he had established
even before his patriarchate ensured that he was kept informed of events and
that he could be reached by letter. His administration of the church in Syria
continued vigorously during his exile in Egypt, to the point that he becomes
offended by some of his correspondents who act without first asking his advice
from his place of banishment98. Severus acted through the offices of two
priest-archimandrites, both called John, to whom a number of letters are
adressed". These men, whose whereabouts are uncertain, seem to have
assumed Severus' responsibilities for the anti-Chalcedonian churches in Syria,
while in Palestine he was represented by a certain Theodore100.
Finally, I would like to consider the financial position of the churches of
Syria as far as it is revealed in the letters of Theodoret and Severus. In so
doing, let us keep in mind Peter Garnsey's assessment that 'some sections of
the Syrian economy at least can be seen to have been booming from the third
to the sixth century AD'101.
The eight letters which Theodoret wrote between 445 and 446 to the high
est officials in the empire regarding the assessment of the iugatio or taxation
in the area of Cyrrhus are well known, if not always well understood102. Via
the intermediary of a certain Philip, a prominent citizen of Cyrrhus who made
two visits to Constantinople on behalf of the tenant farmers of Cyrrhus who
were experiencing difficulties with the level of taxation to which they were
subjected, the bishop sent the letters to well-placed dignitaries in the capital,
even to the empress Pulcheria. It seems from his correspondence that a certain
deposed bishop, probably Athanasius of Perrha, to the north of Samosata, was
trying to revise the assessment of the iugatio upwards and destroy the city of
Cyrrhus. Theodoret's epistolary references to Athanasius, if that is the identity
of the person involved, have been characterized as 'emotive', 'personal', and
containing 'language of spite and hatred', and we have been sensibly warned
to treat these letters with caution103. Special pleading in one of these letters by
97 SLVIII.5: Brooks, p. 415.

98 SL I.49: Brooks, p. 152.
99 SL I.49, 50, 52; 0.2; V.ll, 12 (cf. V.15: Brooks, p. 395); Letters XXII, XXVI (frg.),
XXVII.
100 See Letter XXVII (CXVI): PO 12/2, pp. 248-59.
101 'Prolegomena to a Study of the Land in the Later Roman Empire', in ENEPrEIA. Stud
ies on Ancient History and Epigraphy Presented to H.W. Pleket, ed. J.H.M. Strubbe, R.A.
Tybout, and H.S. Versnel (Amsterdam, 1996), p. 142.
102 The letters are XVII, XX, and 42-47. Discussion in I. Halm, 'Theodoretus Cyrus und die
friihbyzantinische Besteurerung', Acta Antiqua Academicae Scientiarum Hungaricae 10 (1962),
pp. 123-30; E. Bellini, 'L'opera sociale de Teodoreto di Ciro alla luce del suo Epistolario', Aug
17 (1977), 227-36; most reliable is Tomkins, 'The Relations', pp. 96-123, later revised in idem,
'Problems of Dating and Pertinence' (with literature and important conclusions for dating).
103 Tomkins, 'The Relations', p. 97.
Theodoet includes comments to the effect that the region around Cyrrhus was
barren and infertile104. This is seemingly in stark contrast to another comment,
made in a complaining letter about his treatment to Leo of Rome, that the dio
cese of Cyrrhus was flourishing, with 800 churches105. The reality must have
been somewhere in between: there is evidence that churches, monasteries, and
bishops themselves in Syria at the time were often very wealthy, but their
wealth derived in most cases from benefactions and it was not mobile106. This
does not, of course, detract from the fact that Theodoret used his episcopal
weight to intervene on behalf of poor tenant farmers in the region of Cyrrhus.
Let us move now to Antioch some fifty years later. At the time of Severus'
accession to the patriarchate in 5 12 it seems that the church of Antioch was not
well off. There are references in his homilies to the affairs of the church bring
ing more worry than profit107 and to the fact that material cares make him inca
pable of teaching108. While some of these may be topoi, the sentiments are cor
roborated by numerous passages in the letters, one of the most heartfelt being
the following:
Our holy church is very poor and needy, and ... it is so much distressed and laden by
the weight of interest, that it is hardly able even to hold up its head, but debts upon
debts are added to its account, and interest upon interest is piled up against it. Of this
all who live in the great city of Antiochus are witnesses: and I think there are not many
even among those beyond its bounds who have not heard of the fact109.
Severus complains that his predecessor, Flavian, whom he calls 'the traf
ficker in all divine things', had been prepared to admit men to ordination for
payment110. Severus himself was also troubled by requests for ordination from
men who were interested only in priestly vestments and being supported by the
church111, and indeed the numbers of clergy on the distribution list of the patri
archate is said to be a cause for concern, to the extent that after Severus' ban
ishment one bishop apparently suggested that elderly clergy should receive
either a reduced stipend, or no stipend at all112. Other passages confirm the
problem of the ability of the patriarchate to pay sacerdotal stipends113. If, as
104 Letter 42: Azema, vol. 2, pp. 106-13. Cf. Letter XV: Azema, vol. 1, p. 86: 'We who
inhabit small and very deserted villages' - but is a self-conscious contrast with Proclus' patriar
chate of Constantinople.
105 Letter 113: Azema, vol. 3, pp. 56-67. Cf. Urbainczyk, Theodoret of Cyrrhus, pp. 21-23 on
Theodoret's use of rhetoric when speaking of his see.
106 Evidence deftly assembled by Tomkins, 'The Relations', pp. 85-7.
107 Homily XXXVII: PO 36/3, p. 474, 4-6.
108 Homily LIV: PO 4/1, p. 45.
109 SL I.8: Brooks, p. 43.
1,0 SL I.8: Brooks, p. 131.
111 SLl.S.
112 5LI.57: Brooks, p. 190-2.
1,3 See, e.g., SL I.4: Brooks, p. 25; I.8: Brooks, pp. 42-3; I.13: Brooks, p. 56; I.17: Brooks,
p. 65.
20 P. Allen
Severus alleges, Flavian was indeed guilty of corruption and simony, it may be
that he had to resort to such measures to ensure some degree of solvency for
his see. The problem of corruption at all levels of the clergy seems to have
been endemic114.
This picture of the unhappy financial position of the church in Antioch does
not square with other, secular evidence. Under the reigns of the emperors Zeno
and Anastasius (474-518) there appears, on the contrary, to have been a great
increase in wealth and building activity in Antioch and the surrounding region
as a result of the flourishing olive industry east of the metropolis15. In spite of
the ravages of the Persian invasions and repeated earthquakes, this industry
seems to have prospered because of its offshore markets, much of its produce
being exported by ship116. In contrast, it seems that the ecclesiastical turmoil in
the area in the fifty or sixty years after the Council of Chalcedon had taken a
financial toll on the churches there117, and, as in the case of Cyrrhus during
Theodoret's incumbency, the patriarcate consequently experienced a serious
cash-flow problem.
Conclusion
We have seen the difficulties of combining the data concerning the Syrian
church as found in the letters of Theodoret and Severus. To begin with, we are
dealing with only a part of their epistolary legacy, and in the case of Severus
we know that we are dealing wih a very small part. Furthermore, we are at the
mercy of those who compiled the letter-collections of the two bishops in the
forms in which we have received them, and the rationale of the compilations,
if there is one, is not clear. We are also disadvantaged by the fact that we have
no thoroughgoing modern investigation of the manuscript traditions of Patris
tic and early Byzantine letter-collections in general, an investigation which I
suggest in an urgent desideratum. On the positive side, we are in a position to
make some comparisons between the monastic life in Cyrrhus and the more
formal monastic establishments around Antioch some sixty years later; and it
is possible to discern that in both areas of Syria the immobility of church
finance was problematic.
At the beginning of this paper, I spoke of the need to restore Severus of
Antioch to his rightful place in the traditions of Patristic and early Byzantine
epistolography. As far as we can tell from what survives in both epistolary cor
pora, and always bearing in mind that with Severus' letters we are dealing with
1,4 W.H.C. Frend, The Rise of the Monophysite Movement (Cambridge, 1972), pp. 224-5.
115 See G. Downey, A History of Antioch in Syria from Seleucus to the Arab Conquest
(Princeton NJ, 1961), pp. 501-2.
116 See Liebeschuetz, Antioch, p. 80.
117 An interpretation shared by R. Roux, L'exegise biblique, p. 139 with n. 19.
translations, we form the impression that the patriarch of Antioch was more
factual and business-like in his correspondence than was the bishop of
Cyrrhus. He seems also to have been less self-pitying in his long exile than
was Theodoret in his briefer period of disgrace - for that matter, Severus was
less self-involved than John Chrysostom, whose letters from exile became a
benchmark for post-exilic literature. Margaret Mullet, whose work on Byzan
tine epitolography is worthy of great respect and has been very helpful in this
paper, detected a trend in letters from the seventh to the ninth centuries to deal
with functional and political matters, as opposed to the letters of what she
called 'the archaizing fictional epitolographers of the sixth and early seventh
centuries'118. I submit that the surviving letters of Severus of Antioch, con
taining as they do much practical and administrative information, require us to
revise this assessment.
118 'The Classical Tradition', p. 86.

Ps-Dionysius' Angelic Hierarchy and
the Chaldaean Oracles
Rosemary A. Arthur, Wakefield
It has been well known for some time that Dionysius was influenced by the
Chaldaean Oracles, particularly in his vocabulary. I hope to show that this
influence extended much further, to include the celestial hierarchy itself,
which I see as central to his thinking. The Dionysian corpus contains numer
ous examples of Chaldaean expressions, the most characteristic of which is
theurgy. The basic conception of the triadic structure of the universe is also
from the Oracles: 'The Triad measures and bounds all things'1. The Oracles
similarly have the conception of God as both Monad and Triad2. Unfortu
nately, the Chaldaean Oracles are now only extant in fragments. That they
have survived at all is due largely to references in the works of Porphyry3,
Iamblichus, Proclus, and Damascius, all of whom Dionysius is believed to
have used, or at least known. It should be noted, however, that Proclus and
Damascius elaborated the original Chaldaean system somewhat, and I have
attempted to restrict myself to the original system as far as it can be deduced.
The universe of the Chaldaean Oracles is ruled by a hierarchical system of
powers in which a triadic arrangement tends to predominate. At the summit is
the Ineffable One hidden in silence, then the Paternal Monad4, from which
emanate the triads of the intelligible world: the Iynges, Synocheis, and
Teletarchs. Each of the orders of the intelligible world is itself a triad5. Proclus
tells us in proposition 148 of his Elements of Theology that 'every divine order
has an internal unity of threefold origin, from its highest, its mean, and its last
term'6. Below this are the gods, the angels, daimones both good and bad7, and
so on down to humankind. Fr 146 portrays a variety of divine entities which
manifest in the form of a fire, a voice, a horse, or a child, either naked or cov
1 Fr 23, Oracles Chaldaiques, ed. E. Des Places (Paris, 1971), p. 72; T. Taylor, Oracles and
Mysteries, Thomas Taylor series 7 (Frome, 1995), p. 26.
2 Fr 26 (Des Places, p. 72).
3 S. Lilla, 'Pseudo-Denys L'Areopagite, Porphyre et Damascius', in Denys L'Areopagite et sa
Posterite en Orient et en Occident, ed. Ysabel de Andia (Paris, 1997), pp. 117-52.
4 Fr 1 1 (Des Places, p. 69).
5 Des Places p. 14.
6 Proclus, The Elements of Theology, ed. E.R. Dodds, 2nd edition (Oxford, 1963).
7 The word 'daimon' is used throughout in preference to 'demon', except in quotations, in
order to avoid the negative associations of the latter.
24 R. A. Arthur
ered in gold or wrapped in fire or standing on a horse, bow in hand8. The

whole hierarchy emanates from the One. The universe is divided into three
worlds: the Intelligible World, the Ethereal world (which includes the planets
and fixed stars), and the sensible, hylic, or sublunar world9. Each world has a
ruler10. Since 'in each world a triad shines forth, ruled by a monad'11, we have
a three times threefold order of rule: 'The number nine is divine, being made
up of three triads and constituting the summits of the theology of the Chal-
daean philosophy'12. This seems to be a model for Dionysius' ninefold angelic
hierarchy. The angels emanate from the Paternal Intellect.
In his On the Hieratic Art Proclus tells us that angels, daimones, and men
exist in hierarchies13.
We know from Porphyry14 that there are three levels of angels:

those who stand perpetually before God - these include the Archangels;
those who are separated and who go out with messages and ministrations -
this is the class of ministering angels; and
those who perpetually bear God's throne and sing - this includes the
Thrones and Glories15.
The word 'perpetually' is significant, as it indicates that the angels are situ
ated permanently in distinct areas of the cosmos, as well as having distinct
functions. John of Apamea is a witness to the Chaldaean distinction between
angels of the intelligible world, who stay near to God because of their wisdom,
and those with less knowledge, who dwell in the sensible world and are sent to
minister to mankind16.
A Jewish influence is apparent here, but this may confirm, rather than inval
idate its Chaldaean origin17. The heavenly worlds of Semitic paganism were
full of angels and other spirits arranged in a hierarchy18. A particular interest
8 Des Places p. 102; Taylor, p. 45.

9 Proclus, In Tim. ii.57.9ff., in A. Smith, Porphyry's Place in the Neoplatonic Tradition (The
Hague, 1974), p. 63.
10 H. Lewy, The Chaldaean Oracles and Theurgy, Mysticism, Magic and Platonism in the
Later Roman Empire, 2nd edition (Paris, 1978), p. 423.
11 Fr 27 (Des Places, p. 73; Taylor, p. 25).
12 John Lydus (De Mensibus IV. 122), quoting Porphyry, in P. Hadot, Porphyre et Victorinus
I (Paris, 1968), p. 262; also Taylor, p. 56.
13 Catalogue des manuscrits alchimiques Grecs, ed. J. Bidez et al. VI (Brussels, 1928), p.
144-5.
14 Philosophy of the Oracles II, in H. Lewy, pp. 9-16.
15 P. Hadot suggests that these may be the same as the Cherubim and Seraphim (Porphyre et
Victorinus, 392-8).
16 Dialogue 3, tr. R. Lavenant, SC 311 (Paris, 1984), p. 69; P. Hadot, p. 395.
17 Lewy, p. 14-15.
18 F. Cumont, 'Les Anges du Paganisme', RHR 72 (1915), 159-76).
in angelology is a Syrian, rather than a Greek, trait. Porphyry's Syrian back

ground is responsible for his interest in demonology and angelology19. The
books of Enoch were a considerable inspiration to the development of angelol
ogy in the early church. Ephrem and John of Apamea have well-developed
angelic hierarchies, but they are not those of Ps-Dionysius. That of Ephrem is
an eightfold one consisting of Cherubim, Seraphim, Vigilants, Thrones, Dom
inations, Archangels, Virtues, and Powers20.
Iamblichus is the first pagan to describe the Chaldaean angels in any detail.
He tells us that, like all the other celestial beings, they are divided into three
orders21. Their fixed place in the hierarchy is reflected in their appearance, the
grandeur of which is proportional to their power and to the extent of their
authority. So also is their brightness and the clarity of their appearance. For
example, the archangels are surpassingly luminous, solemn and tranquil, and
of great beauty; the angels are resplendent with light, and gentler than the
archangels, from whom they receive their beauty, distributed into portions22.
They have a purificatory power23 which becomes less as one descends the
hierarchy. Superior beings illuminate those below them24.
In the Chaldaean system the Iynges, Synocheis, Teletarchs, and Angels
seem to have distinct functions. The Iynges correspond to the class of minis
tering angels; they are messengers and mediators between the divine and
human worlds25. The Synocheis, or Connectives, are unifiers who maintain the
parts of the universe together in harmony. They also seem to be involved in
the demiurgical stage of the creation of the world26, and to have some kind of
role in the theurgical elevation of the soul, or anagoge. The Teletarchs (Rulers
or Archai) are involved in initiation and have a purificatory role; Fr 86
describes them as 'masters of souls'27. The angels also assist the soul in the
anagoge28. Proclus explains that the soul is led upwards by the host of angels
shining all around it and filling it with a pure fire29. The soul is progressively
purified in the ascent: '(The angel) cuts (the stain) out (of the soul)'30.
19 J. Bidez, Vie de Porphyre (Ghent, 1913; repr. Hildesheim, 1964), p. 15.

20 J. Parisot, 'Ange. VI. Angelologie chez les syriens', DTC I (1903), 1254.
21 De Mysteriis, ed. E. des Places (Paris, 1966), II.6.
22 De Mysteriis II.4; see EH 1.2, 373A-B.
23 F.W. Cremer, 'Die Chaldaischen Orakel und Jamblich 'de mysteriis", Beitrdge zur Klas-
sischen Philologie 26 (1969), 67.
24 De Mysteriis V.23.
25 Fr 78 (Des Places, p. 86).
26 S.I. Johnston, Hekate Soteira, American Classical Studies 21 (Atlanta, 1990), p. 64.
27 Des Places, p. 88.
28 Lewy, p. 161.
29 Proclus, Chald. Philos. I.3, quoted in Cremer, p. 65.
30 Guilelmus Kroll, De oraculis Chaldaicis, Breslauer philologische Abhandlungen 7,1 (Bres-
lau, 1894), p. 18 line 19, as supplemented by Lewy, p. 541.
26 R. A. Arthur
'Celebrating the Holy Rite in the sacred performances therefore not only purifies us, but
it also makes perfect something of the defects in us or about us, establishes in harmony
and order, and otherwise delivers us from faults of deadly character. It likewise brings
all into familiar relations with the races superior to us ... At the same time, nothing
obstructs the superior races from being able to illuminate the lower orders from their
own substance. Nor does anything hold matter back from participating of the superior
natures'31.
The combination of perfection, purification, and illumination is very remi
niscent of Dionysius32.
Dionysius is the first Christian writer to go into much detail about the func
tions and qualities of angels - one is almost tempted to say 'personality', for
there is a certain degree of selfconsciousness about them which makes them
almost seem human33. Perhaps Iamblichus was his inspiration for this, but that
Dionysius was sufficiently interested in them in the first place is probably due
to his own Syrian background.
What Dionysius has done is to place in the first hierarchy 'those who per
petually bear God's throne and sing' (Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones)34. In
spite of their normally prominent role in other hierarchies, Archangels cannot
go here, since they come into direct contact with humans and therefore belong
with the 'ministering angels'; therefore they have to go in the third hierarchy
with the Angels. It is not clear why the other four groups, the Dominions (kuri-
otetes), Powers, (dunameis), Authorities (exousiai), and Principalities
(archontes), are placed where they are, except that there has to be, according
to the Chaldaean scheme, a third member of the third hierarchy and a second
hierarchy, 'those who stand perpetually before God'. Into this second hierar
chy he has placed Dominions, Powers and Authorities, leaving the Principali
ties to complete the third hierarchy. All four are to be found in the Apostolic
Constitutions. The Testament of Adam has Dominions, Powers, and Authori
ties, but no Principalities. These latter are found only in John of Apamea35.
Dionysius' angels, like those of Origen, are rational powers. Dionysius' ref
erence to the intellect of the angelic powers, 'Their thinking processes imitate
the divine'36, is reminiscent of the Chaldaean Fr 77: 'The Iynges, being
thoughts of the Father, themselves think'37. Do the Synocheis and Teletarchs
also have a parallel in the Dionysian Celestial Hierarchy! In the Oracles, the
Synocheis have a specific function in promoting unification and harmony; the
31 De Mysteriis V.23.
32 CH 3.2, 165B-C, Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works, trans. C. Luibheid (New York,
1987).
33 CH 6.1, 200C; CH 7.3, 209B.
34 CH 6.2, 201A.
35 Treatise 1, SC 311, pp. 133, 141.
36 CH 4.2, 180A.
37 Fr 77 (Des Places, p. 86; Iamblichus, De Mysteriis I. 10).
Teletarchs (masters of initiation) have a purificatory role. Although Dionysius

does mention purification in connection with the Seraphim38 and harmony in
connection with the Authorities39, it is his whole angelic hierarchy that draws
the soul to God by a continuous process of perfection, purification, and illu
mination.
In the theurgical tradition the word 'epopteia' was used to describe the spir
itual experience of the worshipper during the anagoge rite40. Now this is a
word that Dionysius uses quite a few times. In CH 4.1, 177C, and CH 8.1,
237B, he is referring specifically to a vision of the angels. There are definite
Chaldaean overtones to CH 15.6, 336B: "They [the angels] have a generative
power, a life-giving power, a power to give increase and completion, for they
rain understanding down and they summon the breast (kolpos) which receives
them to give birth to a living tide'. He also refers twice to singing a hymn to
the angels41. This is interesting; the theurgists had different rites for the cults
of the different gods. Fruits of the earth were brought as sacrifices for benefi
cial demons, fire for the visible gods, a hymn of pure thoughts for the intelli
gible gods, and silent contemplation of Being for the Supreme God42. As we
have seen, angels and intelligible gods are more or less synonymous.
What we do not see in the Christian writer is a number of parallel hierar
chies of angels and demons, each ruled by an archangel and with a god at the
summit. Proclus43 refers, for example, to the hierarchy of the sun, which con
tains angels of the sun, an archangel of the sun, and so on. Neither do any of
his angels have a demiurgical function, or a role in the maintenance of the
physical universe, as do the Chaldaean Synocheis44.
Many elements appear in both the Chaldaean Oracles and the Dionysian
Celestial Hierarchy. Indeed, Dionysius admits that his ninefold angelic hierar
chy is not biblical, but is inspired by the Neoplatonist tradition45. The names
he gives to them are, however, derived from his own Christian tradition. It
may be objected that the Chaldaean system includes a whole collection of spir
itual entities or powers - Iynges, Synocheis, Teletarchs, and gods transmun-
dane, planetary, and astral - in addition to the angels, and therefore Dionysius
is unlikely to have based his hierarchy completely on the Oracles. However,
there does seem to have been a certain fluidity in the nomenclature of gods,
angels, and demons in late antiquity. Philo remarks that 'those beings, whom
38 C//7.1.205C.
39 CH 8.1.240A.
40 Lewy, p. 203.
41 CW2.1, 136D; C//4.1, 168B.
42 Bidez, Vie de Porphyre, p. 100.
43 On the Hieratic Art, in Catalogue des Manuscrits Alchimiques Grecs VI, 144-5.
44 A. Golitzin, Et Introibo ad Altare Dei (Thessaloniki, 1994), pp. 142, n. 168, and 143.
45 Pseudo-Dionysius, tr. Lubheid, p. 160, n. 68.
28 R. A. Arthur
other philosophers call demons, Moses usually calls angels'46. Augustine com
ments several times on how Platonists refer to angels as 'good demons' or
'gods'47. Lewy also notes that in the Chaldaean system 'angels' includes the
planetary and astral gods, as well as good demons48. This accords with
Aquinas' definition of an angel: 'Not all intellects are conjoined with bodies;
there are some that exist separately, and these we call angels'49. So if we con
sider the functions and qualities of the two celestial hierarchies, and allow for
variations in the precise terminology, it may be seen that Dionysius does
appear to derive aspects of his celestial hierarchy from the Chaldaean Oracles.
46 De Gigantibus 6, from The Works of Philo, tr. CD. Yonge (Peabody, Massachusetts,
1993).
47 The City of God IX.19, 23; X.l (trans. D.S. Wiesen, LCL City of God, vol. 3 (London,
1968)).
48 Lewy, p. 101.
49 ST. I.51. lc: tr. from St Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, vol. 9, Angels (la. 50-64),
ed. and tr. Kenelm Foster O.P. (London, 1968), p. 33.
Cyril of Alexandria and His Contribution to Mariology
Antonia Atanassova, Boston
I argue that in order to grasp the purpose of Cyril's soteriology (or to under
stand his Christology as being essentially soteriology), it is necessary to affirm
the systematic inter-dependence of Christological and Mariological modes of
discourse. According to Cyril, in the context of incarnational theology, neither
Christ nor Mary is intelligible if separated, one from the other. Moreover,
Cyril's understanding of salvation necessitates the application of Marian
themes in the praxis of the church and thus situates Mary prominently in litur
gical life and communal practices of devotion.
1. The Theoretical Construction
a. Naming Mary Theotokos

Three main principles - the divine identity of Christ, the depiction of Chris
tology as essentially soteriology, and the adoption of the communication of
properties - create the framework in which Cyril's Mariology is situated.
Cyril's Christological thought features a carefully structured understanding of
Mary's role in the incarnational process which illustrates its main points and
makes them intelligible. From the very beginning of the Theotokos contro
versy, the principal contours of Cyril's argument are clearly outlined: he con
siders the usage of the title Theotokos as essential to the orthodox Christian
faith. Nestorius, he charges, 'destroy[s] utterly the mystery of the economy of
the flesh by saying that the holy Virgin should not be called Theotokos'1. For
Cyril the title Theotokos serves a specific purpose by encapsulating the signif
icance of the incarnation as the decisive point in history at which God trans
forms history from within and by becoming human, enables human beings to
return to him2.
In his early works, predating Ephesus, Cyril approaches the notion of Christ's
birth in a traditional way, not explicitly mentioning the title Theotokos, but indi
rectly, I believe, making its usage justifiable in the context of his thought as a
1 Cyril, Adversus Nestorium I.1, tr. Norman Russell, Cyril of Alexandria, The Early Church
Fathers (London: Routledge, 2000), 135.
2 Cf. ibid., 134.
30 A. Atanassova
whole. This approach is visible in his commentary on Isaiah, which reads the
prophetic message in Isaiah 7:14 in a fairly conventional way. Here there are
two dimensions of the image of Mary that Cyril wants to underline: the impor
tance of prophecy and the facts of the virginal motherhood. Both of those are
related to Cyril's depiction of Christ as God incarnate. Cyril stresses the mirac
ulous character of Mary's virginity as part of his polemic against the Jews, the
Jewish disbelief in the virginal birth being a standard topos in patristic litera
ture3. Cyril picks on the Jewish insistence of assigning Isaiah 7: 14 to Hezekiah
rather than to Christ and argues that the 'virginal womb' brings forth the Sav
iour 'from the power and energy of the Holy Spirit' - a statement which fore
shadows his later and more explicit association of the Son of Mary with the Son
of God4. Even in this early text, Cyril's Christological vision is consistent with
the position that he would defend in the controversy: Christ is God 'both from
the womb and before it, or rather before all ages, seeing that he did not lose his
own prerogatives on account of the human nature'5. The prophecy of the virgin
is related to other passages in the Old Testament where the image of Mary
(Cyril does not mention her name) is interwoven with the theme of the genera
tion of the Church through Emmanuel as a holy land, pure and intact:
'When the Virgin who is pregnant gives birth, you, O house of David, will call his
name Emmanuel. Then all who trouble the holy land will abandon her. For she is not
yet accessible to those who wish to penetrate her.' This is a spiritual saying. For when
Emmanuel was born, the real holy land and city, which is the Church, became the good
thing that was hoped for6.
The Nestorian controversy demanded from Cyril a clearer outline of the
interrelation of such Christological and Mariological themes. In reaction to
Nestorius' rejection of the Theotokos, Cyril's Letter to the Monks is as much of
a Christological manifesto as a defence of the Theotokos. The beginning of the
letter indicates that Cyril saw the debate as stemming from the (misinterpreta
tion of the Nicene creed. As O'Keefe suggests, the Nestorian argument did not
seem to present to him any new problems, other than those inherent in Nicene
theology and posed by Arianism7. Accordingly, Cyril spends a good portion of
the letter commenting on the creed of Nicaea and from this vantage point
declares himself 'completely amazed' that anyone might doubt the propriety of
3 In Is. 1:4, tr. Russel, 78.

4 Ibid., 78-9.
5 Ibid., 80.
6 Ibid.
7 Cf. John O'Keefe, 'Impassible Suffering? Divine Passion and Fifth-Century Christology',
JThSt ns 58 (1997), 39-60, p. 44. Like the Arians, who claimed that the Son does not fully par
ticipates in the Father, Nestorius suggests that God is not fully present 'with us' in Mary's womb.
See also Cyril's Letter to the Monks 3-6, in John McGuckin, St. Cyril of Alexandria, The Chris
tological Controversy: Its History, Theology, and Texts, Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 23
(Leiden: Brill, 1994), 246-8.
the title Theotokos. The creed depicts Christ as God and thus his mother is a
God-bearer: '[F]or if our Lord Jesus Christ is God, then how is the holy virgin
who bore him not the Mother of God?'8 Furthermore, Theotokos is a term of
faith, he states, handed down by Jesus' disciples, even though they did not
specifically mention it, and used by the Fathers. Chief among those is Athana-
sius, Cyril's predecessor on the throne of Alexandria, a 'brilliant and famous
man' whose orthodoxy was confirmed by the 'holy and great Synod' of
Nicaea9. Cyril goes on to cite Athanasius' Oration Three against the Arians in
which Mary is called Theotokos and additional texts in which Athanasius, the
exegete, had deduced the propriety of the title from scripture10. It is not acci
dental that Cyril relies on Athanasius so heavily in this letter; first, because of
their common Alexandrian heritage and, second, because, like Cyril, Athana
sius championed the usage of a non-scriptural term, the homoousios, which
nevertheless became a criterion of orthodoxy at Nicaea. Just as at Nicaea, the
opponents of the Theotokos, Cyril points out, are looking for the title in scrip
ture11. But Cyril searches for its inner logic: he affirms that because the son of
Mary is God in the flesh, the Virgin should be called the mother of the (incar
nate) Word. In this context the denial of the Theotokos is dismissed as an exam
ple of inaccurate Christological thinking implying that Mary gives birth to a
man, anointed with the Holy Spirit, in whom God is said to dwell12.
In his defence of the term, Cyril contends, his opponents have charged him
with improving on the Nicene creed. The Theotokos question was not part of
the Nicene agenda, he admits, but 'the synod recognized by the meaning of
the terms the Holy Virgin to be the Mother of God.'13 Cyril interprets the
creed as a defence of the authenticity of the Son's incarnation as a result of
which the Word's own body, born of Mary, suffers in the economy of salva
tion. Either he is one of us and undergoes the fullness of human reality, or he
has no relation to the human race whatsoever: 'because the Word was united
to the flesh, when his flesh was suffering he appropriated the suffering to
himself since his own body was suffering'14. Commenting on the Nicene
creed in an orthodox way is a major concern for both Cyril and Nestorius:
and if the latter charges that the term Theotokos is an innovation, the former
has an equally strong case in pointing out that the expressions Christotokos
(mother of Christ) or Theodochos (receptacle of God) have no doctrinal and
8 Letter to the Monks 4, tr. McGuckin, 247.

9 Ibid.
10 Ibid.
11 Cf. ibid.
12 See Letter to the Monks 11, 14, tr. McGuckin, 250-1, 253.
13 Commentary on the Gospel of St. Luke by Saint Cyril of Alexandria, tr. R. Payne Smith
([n.p.]: Studiun Publishers, 1983; repr. with new pagination of edn in 2 vols (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1859)), 55.
14 Ibid.
32 A. Atanassova
conciliar weight behind them15. Moreover, Cyril finds these Nestorian terms
to be mutually contradictory: how could Mary be the receptacle of God if she
did not carry God in her womb16 or give birth to him17?
Discounting Nestorius' exclusivist usage of the title of Christ, Cyril claims
that using it in the sense of 'messiah' or 'anointed one' is not restricted to
Jesus: 'and if the anointing is enough [to make him Christ] and they tell us
that this is the case, then note that we too have been anointed as the divine
John will bear witness saying: "And you have an anointing from the Holy
One" (1 Jn. 2.20),l%. For Cyril the christic title (in the strict linguistic sense) is
not a unique privilege belonging to the son of Mary. It is not enough to say
that the incarnate one is simply and only the Christ (and his mother is a Chris-
totokos); he is above all the Son of the Father who comes in flesh. Hence
Mary has a special dignity: 'in that case what pre-eminence could one see in
the holy virgin beyond other women, even if one says that she gave birth to
Emmanuel?'19
b. Motherhood and Incarnation

Like his opponent, Cyril acknowledges the ontological incompatibility of
divine transcendence with the human condition before the incarnation but
notes that the Son manifests himself 'with us economically and in our condi
tion'20. In this sense 'Emmanuel is the only Christ who is true God'21. Mary is
both the Mother of Christ (unlike the mothers of other anointed saints, for
instance, Elizabeth)22, and the Mother of God through whom the Son of the
eternal Father is born in the flesh while remaining God 'in nature and in truth':
Only the holy virgin can be said to be both Mother of Christ and Mother of God, for
she did not give birth to a mere man like us, but rather to the Word of God the Father
made flesh and made man23.
Cyril's opponents claim, the author continues, that calling Mary Theotokos
amounts to proclaiming her the mother of Christ's Godhead24. On his part
Cyril makes a distinction between designating Mary the mother of God and
15 Letter 10.8, tr. John I. McEnerney, in St. Cyril of Alexandria: Letters 1-50 and Letters 51-
110, FC 76 and 77 (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1987), I, 58.
16 Leena Man Peltomaa, The Image of the Virgin Mary in the Akathistos Hymn (Leiden: Brill,
2001), 135: 'The Theotokos as x<*>pa [container] is a concept which refers to the philosophical
discussion on the nature of God.'
17 Letter 10.8, tr. McEnerney, I, 58.
21 Letter to the Monks 1 1, tr. McGuckin, 251.
22 Cf. Habakkuk3:13.
designating her the mother of the Godhead. In this he relies on Athanasius'

earlier contention that the flesh is not coessential with the Word25. No one
argues the absurd point, Cyril states, that the divinity of the Word comes
through Mary:
For even though she be mother of the holy Flesh, she hath nevertherless borne God the
Word out of God truly united thereto, and though any call her Mother of God, he will
not be defining a more recent beginning of God the Word nor that the flesh hath been
made the commencement of His Being26.
Instead we should re-examine the definition of motherhood as such and con
sider its deeper significance in regard to the christic union. Cyril points out
that human mothers bring forth a whole person, and they 'give birth to the
whole living creature, I mean that of soul and body, and not ... to just a part'27.
If we observe, Cyril argues, the reality of the process of gestation and giving
birth, we know that we could not draw a distinction other than perhaps men
tally and abstractly between the components of a living creature such as split
ting him/her into soul and body28. In this sense it is false to speak of two dis
jointed realities in Christ, and of Mary as being related only to one of them.
Mary is the mother of a whole person, body and soul brought together in union
for the purposes of the divine economy29. The flesh or the humanity of Christ
is the Word's own flesh and an indivisible component of his person - a state
ment that is an entrenched Alexandrian theologoumenon30. Hence Cyril's con
clusion: 'the Only Begotten Word was born from the essence of God his
Father, but since he took the flesh and made it his very own, he is also called
Son of Man, and he became as we are'31.
Cyril states that Christ is one: the same Son from the Father who is born 'as
man from a woman.' This theme of identity makes Christ's human body his
very own, the 'personal flesh of him who for our sakes became, and was called,
the Son of Man'32. The birth that the Virgin gives to a 'God hypostatically
25 The references are from Athanasius' Letter to Epictetus; see translation in McGuckin, 379-89.
26 Adversus Nestorium I.4, tr. P.E. Pusey, in S. Cyril, Archbishop of Alexandria, Five Tomes
against Nestorius; Scholia on the Incarnation; Christ is One; Fragments against Diodore of
Tarsus, Theodore of Mopsuestia, the Synousiasts, LF (Oxford: James Parker and Co, 1881), 47.
27 Letter to the Monks, ed. McGuckin, St. Cyril of Alexandria, 250; cf. Adversus Nestorium,
ed. Pusey, 21-22.
28 The analogy of the union between soul and body is Cyril's favourite illustration of the
christic union. For the structure and usage of this image see Steven A. McKinion, Words
Imagery, and the Mystery of Christ: A Reconstruction of Cyril of Alexandria's Christology, Sup
plements to Vigiliae Christianae 55 (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 67-71.
29 Adversus Nestorium I.4, tr. Pusey, 22.
30 Cf. Athanasius, On the Incarnation 17-20, tr. Archibald Robertson, in Edward R. Hardy
(ed.), Christology of the Later Fathers, Library of Christian classics (Philadelphia: Westminster
Press, 1954), 70-74.
32 Third Letter to Nestorius 7, tr. McGuckin, 271.
34 A. Atanassova
united to flesh'33 signifies the human condition which God has decided to make
his own in Mary's womb34. Since he was born from a woman, he also annulled
Eve's sentence of giving birth in sorrow (Gen. 3:16) and the curse of death
with which human bodies, most of all, are affected35. The blessing of human
existence and its origins was at the heart of God's voluntary joining of broken
human reality; the act of divine freedom which accomplished it demonstrated
God's ultimate and binding solidarity with his creation.
There are two major points which Cyril sets out to prove here, conventional as
they may sound: Christ is truly human and Christ is truly God. Cyril contends
that the Saviour is God who 'fashioned a body for himself by his own power'
through the Virgin36. Conversely, Cyril casts Mary's motherhood as determina
tive of the authenticity of Jesus' humanity: 'how could he have become flesh,' he
asks rhetorically, 'if he had not received birth from a woman?'37 The Theotokos
title embodies this incarnational reality in which the divine Word is the subject of
all human experiences and becomes flesh by 'the force of true union'38. Unless
the Son had undergone this second voluntary generation and the birth from a
woman, he could not have made the flesh his own 'by the laws of nature'39. God,
Cyril explains, 'does not violate the laws which he himself has established'40. Of
course, Cyril concedes, this event could have happened some other way, as for
instance, in the way Adam was formed out of clay. But God wanted to 'assure'
everyone that he is human from the seed of Abraham. In this connection Cyril
uses strong language to indicate the inalienable connection between the Son and
his flesh: the Only-begotten recapitulates human birth in himself, he makes his
own the body he receives from a woman, he is truly born41. It is inadequate, Cyril
states, to argue that the Word has descended on a 'particular individual like our
selves' or dwelt in him42. Only the factual event of the birth from a woman could
make God truly and completely human. Only in this way Christ healed, saved,
and restored: 'we see human nature, as if experiencing a new beginning of the
human race, enjoying freedom of access to God'43.
In applying the language of birthgiving to God, Cyril reverses the logic of
Nestorius' argument against the Theotokos: to affirm that God was born in the
flesh, Cyril argues, is also to deny a conception of the divine that would allow
33 Third Letter to Nestorius 11, tr. McGuckin, 273.

34 Ibid.
35 Ibid.,
36 Cf. Adversus Nestorium I.1, tr. Russell, 134.
37 Adversus Nestorium I.1, tr. Russell, 133.
38 Comm. on Luke, tr. Payne Smith, 4.
40 Ibid
42 Ibid.
43 Ibid.
it a movement, circumscription, and passage in time44. While Nestorius argued

that Mary's womb cannot circumscribe the omnipresent divinity, Cyril asserts
that precisely because the divine is infinite and incorporeal, it cannot pass
through the Virgin or simply dwell in her45. In this sense the divine presence
fills all things and cannot be transferred to a particular location in and out of
the Virgin's body46. Rather the incarnation makes God human 'like us' accord
ing to the laws of creation that God had established himself at the very begin
ning of things. It brings God to the level of human experience so that he can
sanctify it with his presence. If God simply passes through or dwells in her47,
Cyril contends, Mary is no different from the mothers of prophets and saints in
whom the Holy Spirit was also active. The 'dignity of the divine birth' sets
Mary apart from all humanity48. The term Theotokos cannot be accepted con
ditionally, he writes, any more than Christ can conditionally be called God49.
Cyril interprets such a slur as a double affront - to Christ as the divine Saviour
and to the Virgin as stripped of the honour of the 'divine birth'.
Cyril attacks Nestorius precisely on the basis of this lukewarm acceptance
of the title as a necessary evil. The incarnation is a mystery, not a mere fan
tasy50, for the fact of the birth demonstrates God's kenotic submission to the
boundaries of creaturely human nature. In turn the utter obedience and humil
ity of the Son becomes the means for the enriching of human nature with what
is divine51. If the stakes are so high and if this is the basis of Christian faith,
Cyril states, then the title Theotokos is either accepted at face value or, if
deemed blasphemous, as Nestorius suggests, it should be erased from the
memory and traditions of the church. But it cannot be employed provisionally:
from Cyril's viewpoint it specifies the orthodox understanding of the incarna
tion and it is a term of praise, rather than of grudging compromise52.
c. Addressing Imperial Women

If these ideas were outlined in Cyril's early works at the beginning of the
controversy, towards its end his defence of the Theotokos becomes clearly a
pronounced part of his Christological argument. Toward the end of 430, Cyril
sent three separate treatises to the imperial court, one of them addressed to

45 Cf. Adversus Nestorium I.2, tr. Russell, 140: 'If the divine is incorporeal, infinite and
omnipresent and is not localized or circumscribed, how will it pass through an individual body?'
46 Ibid., tr. Russell, 139.
49 Cyril states that Nestorius deems the title 'untrue and blasphemous' in his attempt to for
sake the truth. Ibid., 137.
50 Cf. Comm. on Luke, tr. Payne Smith, 8.
51 Ibid., 9.
52 Ibid., 11-12; also Adversus Nestorium I.2, tr. Russell, 137-8.
36 A. Atanassova
Theodosius I and two others titled Address to the Princesses and Address to
the Empresses.53 The first of those is usually associated with the imperial sis
ters, Arcadia and Marina; its heading states that it is directed to the 'pious and
God-loving princesses'54. The second treatise is traditionally referred to the
empresses Pulcheria and Eudokia, Theodosius' wife. Although three of the
presumed recipients had taken vows of virginity55, Cyril's work contains no
specific exhortations to follow asceticism. Nor does Cyril draw a parallel
between the chaste lives of the women at court and Mary's own virginity.
Instead, he constructs a sophisticated Christological argument, in the context
of which the faithful and virginal Mary is depicted as giving birth to the divine
Word.
The letter to the princesses is the one that focuses explicitly on the designa
tion of Mary as Theotokos and its Christological reasoning. After a sufficiently
flattering introduction on the merits of virginity and piety among the imperial
sisters56, the Address to the Princesses states that the Emmanuel is truly God and
thus the virgin who has borne him is a Theotokos: 'uaGf|aexai yap, oxi cpuaei
uev Kai dXr|Geia 0e6<; £axw 6 'Euuavouf|A,, Geoxoko<; 8s 8V auxov Kai f|
xeKoOaa rcapGevo<;'57. This same premise structures the rest of the opening por
tion of the letter, whose main purpose could have well been a defence of the
orthodoxy of Cyril's teaching as supported by his reading of scripture and tradi
tion. The text is remarkable with its clear and repeatedly stated affirmation of
Mary as a Theotokos5*. It places the Christological and Mariological doctrines
side by side, as, for instance, in the following statement: "O xoivuv yevvr|Gei<;
ek xf\q fryiaq rcapGevou, Ylo<; ©eoC cpuaei Kai 0eo<; a7.r|Givd<; Kai oi> xapixi
Kai uExouma, Kaxa adpKa uovov xf|v £k Mapia<; avGpcoTto<;, Kaxa 8e
TtveCua, avjxoi; ulo<; xoO ©eou Kai @eo<;'59. The two modes of discourse,
focusing on Christ and Mary respectively, are seen as complimentary to the full
explication of the Christian faith. This approach is clear in Cyril's summary of
the points that he had defended from the onset of his argument with Nestorius:
53 De Recta Fide adDominas (PG 76, 1201-1336); De Recta Fide ad Augustas (PG 76, 1335-
1420). All references to the text follow the critical edition by P.E. Pusey, in Sancti Patris Nostri
Cyrilli, Archiepiscopi Alexandrini, De Recta Fide ad Imperatorem, De Incarnatione Unigeniti
Dialogus, De Recta Fide ad Principissas, De Recta Fide ad Augustas, Quod Unus Christus Dia-
logus, Apologeticus ad Imperatorem (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1877; repr. Brussels: Culture et
Civilisation, 1965).
54 Cf. Kenneth G. Holum, Theodorian Empresses: Women and Imperial Dominion in Late
Antiquity, Transformation of the Classical Heritage 3 (Berkely: University of California Press,
1982), 159. Holum considers the ascription to be a later gloss to the text.
55 Pulcheria, Arcadia, and Marina, the emperor's sisters.
56 Ad Principissas, ed. Pusey, 154-5; Holum, 159-160.
57 Ad Principissas, ed. Pusey, 156.
58 Ibid., 158, 161, 162-3. Cyril relates the scene of the annunciation, describing Mary as
Theotokos, and repeatedly (three times in the span of one paragraph) affirms that the Son of God
was born through her in the flesh; ibid., 162.
59 Ibid, (quoted by Cyril from Athanasius).
1) the Son, who comes from the essence of the Father and is one of the Holy
Trinity, has become man through the holy virgin and God-bearer Mary60;
2) he has come into the form of a slave to be a human being 'like us'61;
3) in truth and by nature he remains the Son of the Father at the same time at
which he becomes the Son of Man62;
4) whoever denies this generation of the divine Son in the flesh (through
Mary) affirms two sons63;
5) by being born from a woman, God does not change, but partakes of human
flesh in order to pay its debts and release it from the power of death64;
6) Mary is described as Theotokos by scripture and by the Fathers of the
church65.
Furthermore, the treatise is supplemented by a florilegium of scriptural and
patristic prooftexts asserting the validity of the title Theotokos. Among the
leaders of the church who had discussed Christ as God incarnate, Cyril men
tions, first of all, Athanasius - also Atticus, the bishop of Constantinople who
defended God's 'philanthropy' and the kenosis of the Logos as an evidence of
this divine love for human beings; Ammonas, who portrays Mary as a God-
bearer; and John Chrysostom, who speaks of the salvific mission of Christ66.
Finally, Cyril outlines lengthy excerpts from scripture, selecting texts which
encourage faith in the mission and miracles of Jesus Christ, including his birth
from a virgin woman67.
It is noteworthy that Cyril solicits the support of the imperial family with
the assumption that by virtue of their ascetic lifestyle and, presumably, gender,
they would have a special reason to venerate the Virgin as a God-bearer. The
implications of the text, seen in this light, are tantalizing. There is no reason to
assume that the presence of a female addressee had no bearing on the compo
sition and theological message of the treatise68. Presumably, the recipients of
this lengthy piece should be in a position to follow the theological issues out
lined, including the promotion of Cyril's cause at the court. Is the existence of
60 Ibid., 157, 162.

61 Ibid., 157: &XX& kaixoi kciG' f|uac, yeyovax; Kai xt)v xou 8ouXou uopcpf)v oIkovouikcoc,
imo8uc, ... yeyove adp^, xouxeaxi, KaG' f|ua<; xe Kai avGpamoc,.
62 Ibid.: ercei8f) 8e axpeTtxo<; Kara epuoiv &q ©eo<;; cf. 158: Ttpocncuvouuev yap d><; 0e6v
dXr|Giv6v xov 'Ennavouf|X. The affirmation of Christ as God appears throughout the text.
63 Ibid., 163, contains the standard Cyrilline accusation directed against Nestorian Christol-
ogy (Nestorius is not mentioned by name): 6>q elvat 8uo uloix;, Sva Kara cpumv utov xou
©eou, xov eK ©eou, Kai eva Kaxa xdptv, xov ek Mapia<; avGpamov. In contrast, Cyril repeat
edly affirms that there is only one Son, the Son of God who is born of Mary in the flesh.
64 Ibid., 162: drcoGavcov uev xov f|uexepov Gdvaxov Kaxa aapKa 6rcep xa>v auapxtcov
f|u©v, i'va xov Gavaxov dveXr| 6td xou unep f|uxov Gavdxou.
65 Ibid., 163.
66 Ibid., 161, 163, 164, 165.
67 Examples include Rom. 1-4; Gal. 4:6; 2 Cor. 3:14-17; Heb. 1:6; Matt. 1-3 (the birth nar
rative). The scriptural quotations occupy more than two-thirds of the contents of this text.
68 Holum, 161, suggests that this is Cyril's roundabout way of approaching Theodosius.
38 A. Atanassova
this text an indication that women, no less than men, were able and expected
to follow theological disputations in the Byzantine court and take sides in
them? This is a very real possibility. If true, it would lead to the conclusion
that in late antiquity women took an active role in the shaping and perpetuat
ing of particular theological conceptions. Presumably, they were educated
enough to pick their own way among the christological alternatives presented
to them, and discern between an 'orthodox' and a 'heretical' theory.
This assumption seems to be confirmed by the Address to the Empresses, a
second treatise which Cyril sent alongside his Address to the Princesses. This
text is usually referred to Pulcheria and Eudokia, the two crowned Augustas69.
This second treatise must have taken a considerably longer time to compose
than the Address to the Princesses. It contains a carefully nuanced and elabo
rate Christological formulation. Cyril argues that, as part of the divine econ
omy, Christ is born from a woman to save humanity (cf. Gal. 4:4)70. He is the
same Son from the essence of the Father who takes on flesh and appears as a
second Adam71. Cyril underlines that God comes from the seed of Abraham in
'a flesh endowed with a soul' without changing his divine essence72. Truly
human while remaining God, Christ wills to save all. The repeated mentioning
of the Logos' birth according to the flesh occurs frequently in the treatise, even
if it focuses on Christ and does not specifically mention Mary by name. This
is a typical statement, linking together the facts of the Son's becoming flesh
and suffering death by virtue of God's union with the flesh, in order to save
'us':
£rcei8f| 8e £axi xcov zf\q KaG' t)u&<; voouuevnc; avGpGmoxnxo<; kneKtiva. uexpcov xo
rcaxfjaai Gavaxov, fcv&aei cpauev fjyouv Koivcovia xfj npbq aapKa xe Kai alua, xov
xoO ©eou Aoyov yeveo-Gai KaG' i]\iaq avGpamov, &Ttoueuevr|Ksvai 8e Kai oOxco
0avaxou Kpeixxovcr ©ed<; yap r\\ £v aapKi73.
The text is conspicuous with the emphasis it places on the facts of both the
generation and the death of the Logos in the flesh. Both of those realities refer
to the exchange of properties which is a result of the christic union.
Holum suggests that this text was meant primarily for Pulcheria who could
'plague her brother' with the New Testament citations Cyril utilized74. In con
trast, the treatise De Recta Fide which was sent to Theodosius himself under
lines the importance of fighting heresy. Why did Cyril consider it prudent to
send Pulcheria or her female contingent of virgins a refined theological piece
69 Pulcheria is the sister of Theodosius n, and Eudokia is his wife.

70 Ad Augustas, ed. Pusey, 265.
71 Ibid., 268.
72 Ibid., 272.
73 Ibid.
74 Holum, 160-1. He argues that Eudokia is an unlikely recipient, based on Cyril's own dat
ing of the letter's dispatch in the autumn of 430: ACO I, 1,3, 77.
while reserving the simpler (and more practically oriented) prose for her
brother? One wonders if Pulcheria's expertise in all matters theological as
betrayed by this piece, was not much greater than commentators are willing to
agree.
2. Mary in a Liturgical Context
For Cyril to speak of Mary's place in scripture and tradition would also
mean affirming the place of the Theotokos in the liturgical piety of the day -
for both of those found their expression in the life of worship. Cyril's homilies
on the Gospel of Luke75, usually treated together as a commentary on the
Gospel, as well as his Marian homilies from the time of Ephesus 431, supply
proof for this contention.
a. Cyril's Homilies on Luke

The Lukan homilies, especially those dedicated to the birth narrative in
Luke 1-2, are noteworthy with their reiteration of Cyril's take on Alexandrian
Christology. They aim to prove that Christ is truly God and truly man76. For
example, Cyril emphasizes the importance of Old Testament prophecies of the
incarnation, but, by way of taking an original trajectory, affirms that it is the
Word of God, not just the Son of Man, who is born in the flesh77. Christ is
described as both the Father's Only-Begotten and Mary's First-Begotten to
reiterate the twofold theme of double generation and its salvific purpose which
shows how in becoming the 'first-fruits as it were of the adoption of men, He
might make us also the sons of God.'78 'He was indeed in the likeness of our
flesh,' Cyril continues, 'but not according to its standard.'79 Christ was a baby
like other human children with the difference that 'he knew only the good'80.
Cyril asserts powerfully the facts of Christ's humanity as it is brought in direct
contact with the divine: the child wrapped in swaddling clothes is to be seen
in the contemplation of his 'godlike glory' as the power of the devil is shat
tered through the virginal birth81. Cyril casts the Virgin as a Theotokos and
asserts that the temple she supplied became the flesh of God himself82. The
75 For the availability of the text, including the fragments in Syriac, and the translations in West
ern languages, see J. Quasten, Patrology, vol. Ill (Utrecht: Spectrum Publishers, 1960), 123-4.
76 McKinion, 226, considers this to be the essential thrust of Cyril's Christology and the basis
of its merit.
78 Ibid., 48.
79 Ibid., 52.
80 Ibid.
81 Ibid., 52-3.
82 Ibid., 47.
40 A. Atanassova
language of appropriation of properties with its underlying dimension of para

dox readily emerges in these texts to underline the attitude of wonder appro
priate to God's abasement into the reality of human constraint.
b. The Ephesian Homilies

A comparison between Cyril's Lukan homilies and those delivered six
months later at Ephesus shows the similarities in the relationship Cyril postu
lates between Christological and Mariological themes. In turn, these similari
ties testify to the coherence of Cyril's Mariological vision as a whole. During
the four months spent at Ephesus83, Cyril is said to have delivered eight ser
mons dedicated to Mary84. Six of those are preserved in a complete form. The
homily numbered four in the collection of Homiliae Diversae is considered
one of the most famous Marian homilies in antiquity85.
Homily One, which Cyril preached in the summer of 431, situates its mes
sage in the polemical context of conciliar debates86. Cyril discusses the bibli
cal episode of Jacob fighting with the angel for a blessing87. Like Jacob seeing
the deity face to face, the church has seen the luminous revelation of the one
true God in the incarnation. This way God has become immediately present
among his people in order to bless and save them88. This picture, which Cyril
relates so artfully to the scriptural story of seeing God and understanding his
blessings, fits easily within the tumultuous context of the Nestorian contro
versy. In the same way in which the divine presence sheds light on 'intellec
tual confusion' and brings harmony and concord among the people, so, Cyril
implies, a confession of Christ as God is the orthodox statement of faith that
would pacify the outcry in the church. Furthermore, this confession needs to
be qualified along certain theological lines: in order to enjoy peace, the church
should confess that God in the person of the divine Word has been humanized
by taking flesh from a woman89. The mentioning of Christ's mother at the end
of the sermon - 'he [the Son] was truly born from a woman according to the
flesh' - indicates that her presence is indispensable in the orthodox scheme of
the incarnation90. Christ, Cyril affirms, is both divine and human - divine as
83 June through October 431. The council session started 31 July 431.
84 Quasten, III, 123-4, cautiously ascribes all eight to Cyril; the critical edition of E. Schwartz
disputes the authenticity of the most famous of these pieces, Homily Four on Mary. Refuting
Schwartz, Santer considers this piece genuine; see M. Santer. 'The Authorship and Occasion of
Cyril of Alexandria's Sermon on the Virgin (Horn. Div. iv)', SP XII, 144-50.
85 See previous note.
86 PG 77, 981-6.
87 PG 77, 985A-C; cf. Gen. 32:24-32.
88 Ibid.
89 Ibid.
90 PG 77, 985D: 'O abxoq ouv apa Kai £k naxpo<;, &q Aoyo<;, Kai £k yuvaikoi;, cbe, avGp-
cono;, Kaxd aapka.
retaining his unchangeable nature of the Son and human as coming through
Mary. A recognition of the divine subjectivity of Christ is essential for achiev
ing peace in the church, and it needs, Cyril asserts, to be supplemented by an
affirmation of the authenticity of Christ's humanity for which Mary is the
guarantee. In sum, in this opening piece Cyril aims at two things - recogniz
ing the importance of the Marian question as an integral part of incarnational
theology and acknowledging the importance of settling this question as the
means to achieving peace in the church as a whole: riaA,aiei u£v yap Kai
udxexai xdiq foq £v vukxi Kai gKoxco, xoiq acpeyyfj Kai acpdma-cov exouai
xf)v Kap8iav, ovj uaxerai 8e xol<; ev cpam yeyovom, xoii; xov vor|x6v
opGpov ex00o-t Kaxd voCv. The question, Cyril implies, is essential to the
definition of the Christian faith; and the faith should assign Mary her proper
place as the mother of the incarnate God.
The second homily in the collection91 develops a similar message with more
qualifying characteristics in regard to Mary:
The Only Begotten Word of God appeared to us, the Good Shepherd, the True Lamb,
and Mary, that unwedded and holy Mother of God, for our sake gave birth to that life-
giving shoot, God made man, from her own virginal womb92.
Here again Cyril emphasizes the oneness and sameness of God who has
become incarnate: 'The same one was humbled and yet enthroned beside the
Father. The same one was emptied out and yet from his own fullness he dis
tributed good things to his own'93. The theme of kenosis is complimented by
an explicit notion of the importance of Mary's womb as the locus of salvation,
a notion that underlines the physical aspects of the incarnation as well as its
paradoxical nature. Mary's womb is a place, a circumscribing entity which
contains the one 'above all creation'. The insistence on this image is notewor
thy as it has not had such significance in the tradition so far, nor such explicit
theological detail connected with it. Like Proclus, Cyril hastens to this paradox
of containment as the most proper and unique illustration of the incarnational
reality94. From his perspective the humanization of the Word is the means to
salvation, and in such a context Mary is proclaimed a Theotokos. The jubilant
tone of the sermon as a whole speaks of the universal acknowledgment of the
oneness of the Saviour that Cyril seeks - and it is a tacit declaration of his
understanding of the council of Ephesus as a triumph of orthodoxy, - a con
viction that not even the events following the aftermath of the council could
shake.
91 Homily Two (PG 77, 985-9), tr. McGuckin, 280-1.

92 Translation follows McGuckin, 280.
93 Ibid., 280-1.
94 Peltomaa, 70: 'this paradox is characteristic of the homilies of the Ephesian context.'
42 A. Atanassova
Homily Four, Cyril's famous discourse on Mary, is replete with this spirit of
triumphant exaltation. The opening encomium to the homily95 is reminiscent
of Proclus' works: it is saturated with the salutation xaipoiq (be hailed; let us
praise you), addressed to Mary. As Peltomaa notes, the salutations, a great
liturgical device of praise, come as a result of the Nestorian controversy
'which prompted exaltations of Mary, expressed in encomia, exclamations and
salutations'96. The acclamations, structured on Gabriel's salutation to Mary at
the Annunciation scene in Luke 1 :2897, are a particularly apt description of the
important role which Mary assumes in the incarnation. The adoption and
extensive usage of salutations in a liturgical context testifies to the inalienable
link between Mary and the Word's enfleshment and serves as an indirect
rebuttal of the Nestorian idea that the title Theotokos implies casting Mary as
a pagan goddess. In fact, Cyril contends, the Theotokos is a summary of the
specifically Christian and scriptural notion of Mary's contribution to the divine
economy, taking shape in the event of the incarnation98.
The ease with which Cyril moves the levels of Mariological and Christo-
logical discourse - a feature of all his writings related to the controversy - is
noteworthy. The ultimate focus of his reflections remains Christological, yet
the Christological foundation serves as a convenient springboard for the for
mulation of Marian paradigms. God's solidarity with his creation is the only
means to salvation, Cyril contends, thus weaving an emphatic soteriological
thread within the fabric of his discourse. The benefits of the incarnation are
repeatedly offered to the human race, and the birth from a woman is the clear
est sign of the fulfilment of the divine promise to David and the dispensation
of universal salvation99. This emphasis on the birth of God in the flesh
deserves a special mention, as scholarship has tended to ignore it while focus
ing on the theopaschite language which Cyril employs on other occasions. In
fact, the birth, the suffering on the cross, and the death of the Lord of glory are
all phenomena which from Cyril's viewpoint underline over and over again
the authentic character of God's presence 'with us' and the salvific properties
that this presence bestows on humanity. An orthodox Christology should bring
them together in a continuum of meaning in the context of which Mary's fig
ure stands out and provides the concrete content of God's unity with his cre
ation.
In sum, how do Cyril's homilies enrich our knowledge of the origins of
early Mariology? Cyril has the precedent of calling Mary Theotokos in the ear
lier tradition as well as some rudimentary patterns of imagery and theological
95 PG 77, 992BC: a partial translation of the encomium is available in Peltomaa, 68.

96 Peltomaa, 66.
97 Cf. Peltomaa, 66-7.
98 PG 77, 992B.
99 PG77, 1000-1001.
insight in which she would be cast as a Second Eve, a holy Virgin, a virginal
mother. In this sense, if Mary is described by Cyril as a 'holy treasure'100, he
is using a conventional metaphor to structure her praise, as the emphasis on
her holiness is already commonplace in the Christian tradition. However, the
explicit emphasis on Mary's mediating role between God and creation, the
focal point of which is her womb, is new101. Similarly, the lavish praise which
both Cyril and Proclus bestowed on her in their homilies has no parallel. In the
context of Ephesus such praises receive a clear dogmatic sanction and thus lay
out the potent possibilities of developing Marian imagery and theology further
on, eventually transforming what is a collection of theological perspectives on
the significance of Mary in incarnational theology into a fully fledged cult
dedicated to the Virgin.
Finally, Cyril makes clear that his theology of Mary is something that is
lived in the praxis of the church. Cyril's first letter on the subject of the
Theotokos is, not accidentally, addressed to the monastics for whom Mary
would hold special significance as the Christian paragon of chastity. Cyril
relied on monastic support on numerous occasions throughout the controversy,
the most spectacular example being the case of the hermit Dalmatius, who
appeared before Theodosius II after forty years of silent seclusion to defend
Cyril's cause102. Similarly, in his correspondence related to the controversy
Cyril several times mentions the case of Bishop Dorotheus, a supporter of
Nestorius who anathematized anyone calling Mary theotokosim. The implica
tions of this denigration of the Virgin, Cyril affirms, are disastrous104. This is
because true faith sees the Virgin as the mother of God105.
3. Conclusion
I proposed that Cyril's Mariology is not simply derivative from his Chris-
tology, but an integral part of its structure and message. In Cyril's estimation,
one cannot have an orthodox Christology without a consideration of Mary's
elemental role in the incarnation.
Cyril understanding of Christ's mission emphasizes its soteriological aspect.
His Christological perspective underlines the unity of the divine hypostasis of
the Son with his flesh. Moreover, Cyril argues that the inalienable character of
this unity enables human and divine natures to exchange their properties in
Christ and thus accomplish the purpose of the divine economy - the restoration
100 Homily Four (PG 77, 992B).

101 Peltomaa, 61.
102 Cf. McGuckin, 97.
103 Letter 8.1, tr. McEnerney, I, 52.
104 See Letter 14, tr. McEnerney, 1,73-4.
105 Letter 1 1 .6, tr. McEnerney, I, 62.
44 A. Atanassova
and sanctification of all creation in God. In this context, Cyril portrays Mary as
a Theotokos or God-bearer and describes the Virgin's womb as the locus in
which the uncontainable God has voluntarily descended into the limitations of
true human existence.
Finally, Cyril affirms that Mary's figure is indispensable in theological
reflection as well as in the life of the church. Mary is to be venerated as the
mediator between God and humankind. Cyril's approach to Mariology suggests
that the theological and the cultic (or homiletic) components of Marian theology
should go hand in hand; neither one is intelligible without the other.
The Temptations of Jesus Christ according to
St Maximus the Confessor
Demetrios Bathrellos, London
I. Introduction
The temptations of Christ are one of the most important, fascinating, and
intriguing aspects of his life. When one tries to understand their significance,
one is immediately faced with a variety of puzzling questions. Could Christ be
tempted? Was he really tempted? Why was he tempted? What kind of temp
tations was he faced with? Could he succumb to temptations? What is the
importance of his temptations for us?
In this paper I will attempt to present Saint Maximus the Confessor's treat
ment of the temptations of Christ, which will provide some useful indications
for responding to the aforementioned questions1.
II. Adam's Fall and Fallen Humanity
According to Saint Maximus, before the fall man was not subject to either
pleasure or pain. He had only a rational capacity for pleasure, by virtue of
which he would be able to enjoy God. Man, however, turned his rational desire
for God towards the objects of the senses and thus experienced a pleasure that
was against his nature. As a result, God's providence linked pain, and eventu
ally death, to pleasure, as a punishing power, with a view to limiting man's
sinful desirous movement towards sensible things. In this way, pain and death
counteracted irrational pleasure, and thus made it possible for the mind to
experience the grace of divine pleasure. It is noteworthy that all human beings
were ensnared in this vicious circle of pleasure, pain and death because all of
them, that is all of us, are conceived through a pleasurable union. Pleasure is
the foundation of our own being2.
1 Despite its importance, the question of the temptations of Christ in St Maximus the Confes
sor has so far received very little attention by the secondary literature. Occasional references to it
occur in Jean-Claude Larchet, La divinisation de l'homme selon saint Maxime le Confesseur
(Paris: fiditions du Cerf, 1996), pp. 231-49.
2 61" Question to Tnalassius (PG 90, 628A-D, and Carl Laga and Carlos Steel (eds), Maximi
46 D. Bathrellos
On the basis of the pleasure - pain dialectic, Maximus makes a distinction

between two different types of temptation. The temptations of the first type
relate to pleasure, whereas the temptations of the second type relate to pain.
The former push us to experience pleasure, whereas the latter cause pain and
sadness3. When man succumbs to pleasure, he experiences pain and eventually
death. Even when he tries to sustain himself in life and to procreate for the
continuation of humanity, he experiences pleasure, and thus, contrary to what
he wishes, leads himself and his offspring to death4.
In fact, man seeks refuge in pleasure precisely in order to avoid pain and
death. He attempts to alleviate his pain through pleasure, but the only thing he
succeeds in doing is to intensify his pain5. Thus, sin leads to pain and death,
and death and pain lead to sin. Both man's nature and his will are ensnared in
this vicious circle6. Perfect is only he who manages to resist the pleasurable
temptations through continence and endure the painful ones with patience7.
This man can experience the only true and life-giving pleasure, the pleasure
produced by God's grace.
Elsewhere, Maximus adds that the fall bequeathed to all human beings the
passions of pleasure, sadness, desire, and fear. These passions may become
good ones, if they are used properly, namely, with a view to gaining the heav
enly things8. But it is precisely through these passions, through this 'passible'
element in man, that man is tempted, led to sin, and eventually to death9.
III. The Humanity of Christ
Under the conditions of fallen humanity, no one could ever break the
vicious circle of pleasure and pain, which leads to ethical perversity and onto-
logical annihilation - not only because every man is conceived in a pleasurable
manner, but also because later in his life he sins and, as a result, brings pain
and death upon himself.
The conception of Christ, however, 'out of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin
Mary' made a beginning in breaking this vicious circle. Christ's conception
Confessoris Quaestiones ad Thalassium, vol. II, Quaestiones LVI-LXV, CCG, 22 (Turnhout: Bre-
pols and Leuven: University Press, 1990), 85, 8 - 87, 41).
3 58'h Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 593B, and Laga and Steel, II, 29, 25-33).
4 21s' Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 313A-B, and Laga and Steel (eds), Maximi Confessoris
Quaestiones ad Thalassium, vol. I, Quaestiones I-LV, CCG, 7 (Turnhout: Brepols and Leuven:
University Press, 1990), 127, 19 - 129, 35).
5 61s' Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 629D-632A, and Laga and Steel, II, 89, 94 - 91, 100).
6 21s' Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 313A-B, and Laga and Steel, I, 127, 19 - 129, 35).
7 58'k Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 593D, and Laga and Steel, II, 29, 50 - 31, 52).
8 1" Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 269A-C, and Laga and Steel, I, 47, 5 - 49, 33).
9 21" Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 312B-316D, and Laga and Steel, I, 127, 5 - 133, 107).
The Temptations of Jesus Christ according to St Maximus the Confessor 47
was not stained by pleasure and, therefore, did not deserve to be followed by
pain and death. Man had experienced pleasure and thus caused the coming of
death upon himself. Now Christ experiences an unwarranted death, that is, a
death that had not been preceded by a pleasurable conception, and thus breaks
the vicious circle within which humanity was trapped. In man, an unjust plea
sure brought about a just death. Now an unjust and undeserved death makes it
possible for humanity not to be under the power of death as a punishment for
pleasure. Christ's pain and death restore human nature to its pre-fallen poten
tialities10.
However, in order for this to happen, not only Christ's conception, but his
whole life had to be free from sinful pleasure. And furthermore, Christ had to
endure pain and death. This is the crux of the matter when, following Max
imus, we attempt to understand the meaning and the significance of his temp
tations.
IV. The Temptations of Christ
According to Saint Maximus, on becoming man, the Logos assumed the

passible element of human nature, yet without sin. The evil powers, hidden
in our passibility, saw that Christ shared our passible element. Therefore,
they thought that he was subject to the law of nature (the link between plea
sure and pain is here implied), ignoring the fact that 'he moved voluntarily
according to [his own] will' (Kaxa Gekrjoiv yvcbfin Kivo6fievov)\ Thus they
tried to make him sin by tempting him with the two aforementioned types
of temptation, the pleasurable ones and the painful ones. First, in the
wilderness, they tried to make him succumb to pleasure. When they failed,
they tried to make him display cowardice in the face of pain and death at
the time of his passion. Christ, however, remained invulnerable at that time
too. In so doing, he healed our passibility with regard to both pleasure and
pain, and totally defeated the demonic powers that had been tormenting
humanity11.
V. Could Christ Have Sinned?
So far, so good. But, one wonders, could Christ have sinned? And if not,
were his temptations real? Let us attempt to respond to the second question
first, always following Saint Maximus.
10 61" Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 629A-636B, and Laga and Steel, n', 87, 61 - 99, 260).
11 21s' Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 312B-316D, and Laga and Steel, I, 129, 36 - 133,
107).
48 D. Bathrellos
The incarnate Logos assumed our passible element, yet without sin, in order
to free us from the sinful bondage to it. The assumption of this passible ele
ment accounts for the reality of his temptations, the successful confrontation of
which contributed to our salvation. Let us briefly examine why.
Jesus was in need of bread, as we are, in order to sustain himself. In the
wilderness, fasting caused him pain (hunger), whereas to eat the bread at the
devil's instigation would cause a pleasurable overcoming of this pain. In this
sense, his temptation was real. Otherwise, if he were, for instance, an angel, the
temptation would not be real and would not make sense. It is precisely the fact
that Christ bore a passible human nature that accounts for the reality and mean-
ingfulness of the devil's suggestion. Similarly, Christ also confronted painful
temptations. His passible human nature made it possible for him to feel pain and
experience death, and this is why the temptation to avoid them makes sense.
However, although it was possible for Christ to be tempted, because of his
passible human nature, it was impossible for him to sin, because of his impas
sible human will. Let us see why.
On the basis of Maximus' thought, there are two interrelated reasons that
make it impossible for Christ to sin. Both have to do with his human will,
since, as we have already said, for Maximus Christ was not moving under the
compulsive power of the law of fallen humanity, but 'voluntarily according to
[his own] will' (mxa GeA,r|aiv yvcbuTi). If we wish to employ a high Chris-
tology, as Maximus himself in fact does, we will draw attention to the personal
identity of Christ. Christ is God the Logos incarnate. It is this Logos who
moves his human will towards the fulfilment of our salvation12, and this pre
cludes any possibility of this will going astray. This of course also shows
clearly and emphatically that the author of our salvation is not a man enabled
by God, but God himself as man.
However, there can be an approach from a lower Christology, namely, an
approach from the point of view of Christ's humanity. In order to understand
this, we may refer to St Maximus' comments on John the Evangelist's state
ment according to which he who is born of the Spirit both does not and cannot
sin13. For Maximus, St John has in mind the Christian who is baptised and
regenerated by the Spirit. To be born of the Spirit means to be born into a new
life, into a life of deification, namely into a life of participation in the life of
God, in which the possibility of sinning is excluded. In such a life, one can be
tempted, but cannot sin. The fact that we can and do sin is due to the fact that
we have not been fully regenerated by the Spirit14.
However, if we take into account Maximus' insights, we can see in St
John's statement a Christological dimension too. He who is conceived by the
12 Opusculum 1 (PG 91, 32A) and Opusculum 3 (PG 91, 45C).

13 Seel John: 3:9 and 5:18.
14 6'* Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 280C-281B, and Laga and Steel, I, 69, 1 - 71, 51).
The Temptations of Jesus Christ according to St Maximus the Confessor 49
Spirit par excellence is Jesus Christ himself. The Logos becomes man not as a
result of a pleasurable union, but as a result of the direct intervention of God
the Spirit. It is the Spirit that deifies the will of the Christian15. All the more,
it is the Spirit that deified the humanity of Christ, including, of course, his
human will16. The hypostatic union and the sanctifying activity of the Spirit
caused the deification of the human will of Christ and, therefore, made it
impossible for him to sin. Christ moved voluntarily according to his own will,
as we have already seen, but this will was in absolute conformity with and
obedience to the will of God, as Maximus made absolutely clear in his dyothe-
lite writings17.
VI. Soteriological and Ontological Implications
In Adam and his descendants death was a punishment for sin. In Christ,
however, whose birth and whole life were free from sin, death is not a punish
ment for sin, but a judgement of sin. Christ abolished the sinful law of nature
that led from pleasure to pain and death. This means that all those who are
with Christ and in Christ share the same fate. Through baptism, they are
reborn (without the interference of pleasure) into a new life. And if they
remain faithful to God in resisting the pleasurable and painful temptations they
are faced with, as Christ did, they will die, of course, as he did, but their death
will not be a punishment for sin, but a judgement of sin, as was Christ's death.
This death will be for them the beginning of divine and everlasting life18.
15 6'h Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 280D, and Laga and Steel, I, 69, 21-23).
16 Maximus writes that God the Logos 'sanctified his own flesh by his own Spirit' (Opuscu-
lum 8 (PG 91, 108A)). Moreover, in Opusculum 20 (PG 91, 236D), he argues that the human will
of Christ was wholly deified.
17 For more on this, see my book, The Byzantine Christ: Person, Nature and Will in St Max
imus the Confessor (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004).
18 61" Question to Thalassius (PG 90, 636B-637A, and Laga and Steel, II, 97, 216 - 99, 260).
Bodily Inequality, Material Chaos, and the Ethics of
Equalization in Maximus the Confessor
Paul M. Blowers, Johnson City, Tennessee
In Christian thought, contemplation of the reality of bodily inequality and

its relation to divine providence and judgement is at least as old as Jesus'
response to his disciples who questioned whether the blind man's infirmity
resulted from his parents' sin or from his own (John 9: 1-7). Patristic commen
tators on this text like Chrysostom and Augustine stressed Jesus' diversion
from questions of theodicy to the overriding theme of God's glorious power to
heal, and of suffering as a training ground for faith1. Cyril of Alexandria even
discerned, in the clay and spittle that Jesus applied to the blind man's eyes and
in his enjoining him to wash in the pool of Siloam, the interrelated mysteries
of divine creation, redemptive incarnation, and holy baptism2.
A story in the Pseudo-Clementine Homilies, however, doubtless betrays the
kinds of questions that believers and unbelievers alike were wont to ask and to
which Christian teachers were challenged to give cogent answers. In this par
ticular episode, Simon Magus queries the Apostle Peter at length on God's jus
tice in allowing so much bodily inequality (dvcouaXia) in the world. Conced
ing Peter's argument that there need to be people with bodily anomalies to
prompt compassion from the righteous, Simon presses how this can yet be fair
to those born with infirmities. Here too, however, Peter's response assumes a
more or less traditional logic: justice will be dealt to penitent sufferers in the
age to come; meanwhile, the Church counsels patience and the function of
pain to educate to virtue3.
This same counsel reappears in Gregory Nazianzen's Oration 14, On Love
for the Poor. Human misery and bodily inequities are a punitive result of the
Fall, for which reason healthy Christians are enjoined to bear a cross for suf
fering fellow-believers with whom, in the Church, they are already equals any
how. In reading the text of this Oration, however, Maximus the Confessor was
seized by the following phrase from Gregory: 'But whether the affliction [the
1 Cf. John Chrysostom, Hom, in Joannem 56 (PG 59, 305-10); Augustine, Tract. In Evang.
Joannis 44 (PL 35, 1713-19). On patristic approaches to disciplinary suffering, see Jean-Claude
Larchet, A Theology of Illness (Crestwood, N.Y., 2002).
2 Comm. in Joannem, Bk. 6 (PG 73, 961B-965A).
3 SeePs-Clem. Hom. 19.22-23 (GCS 422, 265.5-266.18); cf. Ps-Clem. Recog. 3.40-41 (GCS
51, 124.10-125.12).
52 P.M. Blowers
infirm] suffer comes from God is not clear so long as matter bears with it
chaos (xo axaKxov), as in a flowing stream'4. In Ambiguum 8 Maximus com
ments on the specific phrase 'as long as matter bears with it chaos, as in a
flowing stream'5.
As is well known from this and other of the Ambigua ad Joannem, Max
imus is reclaiming Gregory to counter Origenist assertions about divine prov
idence and judgement and the whole mystery of the embodiment of souls. For
Maximus, Gregory has already satisfactorily confuted the hypothesis that dis
parities among created bodies are a divine punishment commensurate with the
lapse of pre-existent spiritual beings. Bodily infirmity and inequality begin
with, and carry forward from, the historical Fall of Adam, wherewith God sub
jected the corporeal creation to corruption (Rom. 8:20) and rendered human
beings passible6. Maximus further clarifies that, in subjecting human souls to
the capacity to suffer and to the tyranny of the passions, God was exposing
them to the very instability (xo aaxaxov) and inequality (xo dvdbLiaA,ov) of
material being itself7, effectively allowing them to edge toward the brink of
non-existence - a perspective congenial with Athanasius' view of the Fall as a
reversal of creation, a relapse into non-being8.
Gregory Nazianzen's image of material or corporeal existence as a 'flowing
stream' that 'bears with it chaos' takes on a certain life of its own in Maximus,
who exploits it as one among other possible descriptions of divine provi
dence9. Here in Ambiguum 8, where the issue, as in the closing section of
Ambiguum 7, is bodily inequalities or anomalies, Maximus expands upon the
image of the 'chaos' of the flowing stream as a persisting undercurrent con
stantly being tamed by God. Bodily life is an active/passive dialectic of 'bear
ing' and 'being borne along' in the stream of materiality10. Maximus provides
biblical substantiation of the image in Ad Thalassium 64, interpreting the
prophet Jonah's descent into the abyss as a typos of human nature's fall into
chaos, 'where it both bears, and is borne along in, the unstable, helter-skelter
4 Gregory Nazianzen, Or. 14.30 (PG 35, 897B); Maximus, Amb. 8 (PG 91, ilOlDff.).
5 For a full translation of Amb. 8, see Paul M. Blowers and Robert L. Wilken, On the Cosmic
Mystery of Jesus Christ: Selected Writings from St. Maximus the Confessor, Popular Patristics
Series (Crestwood, N.Y., 2003), pp. 75-8.
6 Amb. 8 (PG 91, 1104A-B). Recalling solutions tendered by his predecessor Gregory of
Nyssa, Maximus speculates that either God partnered the soul with the passible body at the very
moment of the Fall, or else he did so antecedently, in foreknowledge of the Fall. Cf. also Ad Thai.
61 (CSG 22, 85.8-21).
7 Ami. 8 (PG 91, 1104A).
8 See Athanasius, De incarnatione 4-6 (ed. Robert W. Thomson [Oxford, 1971], pp. 142-8).
9 Maximus's doctrine of providence is summarized in Amb. 10 (PG 91 : 1 188C-1 193C). See
also Vittorio Croce and Bruno Valente, 'Provvidenza e pedagogia divina nella storia', in Max
imus Confessor: Actes du Symposium sur Maxime le Confesseur, Fribourg, 2-5 septembre 1980
(Fribourg, 1982), pp. 247-59; and Lars Thunberg, Microcosm and Mediator: The Theological
Anthropology of Maximus the Confessor, 2nd ed (Chicago, 1995), pp. 66-72.
10 Amb. 8(PG91, 1105B).
Bodily Inequality, Material Chaos, and the Ethics of Equalization 53
delusion and confusion of material things'". Elsewhere in Epistle 10, where

the issue is political inequality as a corollary social manifestation of corporeal
disequilibrium, Maximus again describes bodily life as 'bearing' and 'being
borne along' in the continuum of material change (dAAoicom<;), which, while
punitive, is also God's means of preventing human nature from moving in an
endlessly unnatural direction12.
The nuances of this image are subtle and far-reaching. As in modern scien
tific theories of chaos, the seeming disorder of the cosmos gives way through
deeper contemplation to a constantly emerging orderliness13. Nazianzen's, and
now Maximus', image of chaos as a forward-moving stream serves to depict
the multilevelled change or flux giving way to a providential economy. Chaos
(xo acrcaxov) and conductibility (xo cpepouevov) are, in one perspective, the
only stability (xo cn;aGepov) and security (xo Pdmuov) of bodies14. The
ostensible disorder (&xaxia), Maximus suggests, actually 'disposes' (KaGi-
axr|ai) human life, and the whole scheme 'has been arranged (8iexurccbGr|)
according to the plan (^.oyo<;) befitting God's wisdom' to turn souls from the
confusion of this life to the equanimity of spiritual realities15. Similarly, in
Ambiguum 7 Maximus cites Nazianzen's image of God's playfulness in using
the constant change or flux of material things as a way to redirect deluded
creatures toward that which is enduring16. Thus the 'chaos' or disorder in one
way threatens, - yet in another and mysterious way sustains, - bodily life.
'Chaos' is itself a marvellous dialectic. For Maximus it bespeaks, on the
one hand, the utter vulnerability of matter, the anomaly of the status of bod
ies at any given point in time. It indicates the experienced 'randomness' of
pain and pleasure, for in expounding on the punitive character of pain Max
imus never claims that it is strictly 'proportionate' to the individual's sin or
fallenness17. Proportion and true equity belong rather to the salvific economy
of the Incarnation, in which God assumed fallen human nature precisely to
the extent necessary to redeem it in its own sinful state ('He exhibited the
equity of his justice in the magnitude of his condescension ,..'18). The inten
sity of bodily suffering is bound, therefore, to be experienced as random in
the purview of the passible individual, despite its overarching rehabilitative
function. On the other hand, 'chaos', on the ontological level, corresponds
11 Ad Thai. 64 (CCG 22, 191.60-8).

12 Ep. 10 (PG, 91: 449B-C).
13 On the redemption of 'chaos' in modern physics vis-a-vis theological understanding of
divine providence, see, e.g., Robert John Russell et al.. eds, Chaos and Complexity: Scientific
Perspectives on Divine Action (Vatican City and Berkeley, 1995).
14 Amb. 8(PG91, 1105B).
15 Ep. 10 (PG 91, 449C-D). Cf. Amb. 7 (PG 91, 1093B-C), quoting Gregory Nazianzen, Or.
17.4 (PG 35, 969C).
16 Amb. 7 (PG 91, 1093A-B), quoting Gregory Nazianzen, Or. 14.20 (PG 35, 884A-B).
17 See especially^ Thai. 61 (CCG 22, 85-91).
18 Ibid. (CCG 22, 89.85-6).
54 P.M. Blowers
with 'gnomic' will or inclination (yvcouti) on the moral level; it is a positive

manifestation of redeemable differentiation in the cosmos, until, as Maximus
affirms in Ambiguum 42, the state of eternal well-being after the general res
urrection puts an end to the pattern of 'bearing' chaos and 'being borne
along' in it19.
Taming the undercurrent of chaos is an ongoing divine strategy that
demands human cooperation and interplay. Central to the drama is the healing
or reorientation of the human passions - being that aspect of human nature
most given to chaos and disorder, and most perfectly manifesting the dialectic
of passivity and activity. Maximus suggests in Ambiguum 8 that either God
directly intervenes to purge deviant passions, 'setting the chaos (xo dxaKxov)
of matter in good order (euxdKxax;)', or else we ourselves learn - by practiced
avoidance of vice, or by imitating the superior example of the virtuous - to
retrain those passions20. The faithful must confront the 'flow' of 'chaos', be it
the internal disequilibrium of the body or the external inequities among bod
ies, through a combination of resignation to the punitive character of suffering
and fierce ascetical resistance. In this circumstance, the diligent and the strong
must intervene to compensate for the deficient and the weak. As Maximus puts
it, 'we [the faithful] should ... even out the disparity (dvconaA,ia) of our
human nature, which in its own right is equal in dignity, by filling others' defi
ciencies with our own abundances'21.
What more precisely does Maximus mean by this 'equalizing'? We must
look, I would suggest, to his conception of the human mediation between 'Par
adise' and 'inhabited earth' wherein Christians are called to share in the vicar
ious suffering of Christ through appropriate acts of self-mortification22. The
faithful can, in their own bodily acts of renunciation and abnegation, dramatize
the pure equality of Paradise (that is, the equality grounded in the common
logos of human nature), exalting the debased by debasing themselves. This
self-mortification, however, is but the negative dimension. The ministry of
'filling others' deficiencies with our own abundances' demands positive,
extraverted action. Identifying with the physically infirm or assuaging the suf
ferings of the weak and lowly in eleemosynary acts, however crucial, would
alone seem an inadequate demonstration. For the inequality (&vo>paA,ia) beset
ting the human race is not purely a matter of physical infirmity or handicap; it
is a universal anarchy of bodily passions, at which level the configuration of
the passions and the spiritual conquest thereof varies among each and every
19 Amb. 42 (PG 91, 1348D-1349A).

20 Amb. 8 (PG 91, 1104C-D). See also Paul M. Blowers, 'Gentiles of the Soul: The Sub
structure and Transformation of the Human Passions in Maximus the Confessor', JECS 4 (1996),
57-85.
21 Amb. 8(PG91, 1105B).
22 Amb. 41 (PG 91, 1309B). On this mediation, and Maximus' understanding of Paradise in
terms of Christian virtues cultivated socially, see Thunberg, pp. 381-91.
Bodily Inequality, Material Chaos, and the Ethics of Equalization 55
human being. In the Chapters on Love Maximus therefore makes clear that it
will require a radical love of all human beings ('neighbours') without discrim
ination, an equalizing love that treats any and all according to their peculiar
disparity23 - which for one might be an enslavement to pain through physical
infirmity, but for another an enslavement to pleasure through the deviance of
passions in the seemingly healthiest of bodies. In his encomium on love in
Epistle 2, Maximus declares that Ayant] itself, which overcomes every dispar
ity in restoring the common logos of human nature,
levels off and makes equal any inequality or difference in inclination in anything, or
rather conforms it to that praiseworthy inequality (dviaoxr|<;), by which each is so
drawn to his neighbour in preference to himself and so honours him before himself,
that he is eager to spurn any obstacle in his desire to excel24.
For Maximus, to be overly taxed by the issue of injustice of bodily status or
station in life would be to remain fixated on particulars rather than seeking the
higher contemplation (Gecopia) of the interconnectedness of particulars to uni
versal, the magnificent and providential configuration of the cosmos moving
toward its telos under the wise guidance of Christ the Logos. Yet, at the level
of particulars, the struggles of creatures in their own inclinations (yvcbuai) and
modes (xporcoi) of existence, Maximus glories in the redemptive ingenuity of
the Creator amid the ambiguity and tragedy of history, the unfolding drama
that has obtained from the very instant of humanity's creation25. At times, as
in Ad Thalassium 2, employing the scriptural image of the Logos as a work
man diligently preserving his creation, Maximus paints a serene portrait of the
reintegration of the cosmos26. But with the metaphor of the chaotic stream of
bodily life - more in line with Qoheleth's instruction on cosmic vanity in the
Hebrew bible - Maximus conveys a far more sobering picture of the existen
tial reality of chaos, the underbelly of creation, one that encourages believers,
without looking back (that is, second-guessing the providence operative in the
universe), to 'go with the flow' while also fiercely resisting the undercurrent
of chaos that threatens to engulf them in the instability of matter. Doubtless it
is by defying the momentum of chaos and inequality that the faithful are
drawn into the deeper and more stable - indeed reposing - motion that is from
God and toward God.
Just as in Epistle 2 Maximus points toward a higher 'equanimity' (xairto-
xr\q), a state of reconciliation, stability, and integrity transcending the confu
23 See especially Capita de caritate 1.71 (PG 90, 976B-C).

24 Ep. 2 (PG 91, 400A), tr. Andrew Louth, Maximus the Confessor, Early Church Fathers
(London, 2000), p. 88 (with slight modification).
25 For this dramatic perspective, see Hans Urs von Balthasar, Cosmic Liturgy: The Universe
according to Maximus the Confessor, tr. Brian E. Daley (San Francisco, 2003), especially
pp. 179-205.
26 Ad Thai. 2 (CCG 7, 51), commenting on John 5: 17.
56 P.M. Blowers
sion and disorder associated with matter27, in Ambiguum 8 he is anticipating

the ultimate 'equality' of bodies as an eschatological goal. Such a state, how
ever, should not be imagined as a sheer metaphysical or physical 'sameness'
devoid of a history. As Hans Urs von Balthasar rightly observed some time
ago, Maximus distrusts the concept of a fully autonomous or objective human
'nature' considered independent of a concrete participation in grace28. We can
conclude that for Maximus, the equality of bodies in the age to come will be -
in the manner that the bible dramatizes the 'new creation' - a reordered chaos,
an ambiguity given new definition, a vulnerability overcome with new
strength, the gracious achievement of a God who, in Maximus' christocentric
and eschatological perspective, has used human fallenness and the fragility of
matter as the raw material for recreating, renewing, transforming - deifying.
27 See Ep. 2 (PG 91, 400B); cf. Amb. 41 (PG 91, 1312B-D). Maximus uses the same term -
xai)xOxr|<; - to describe the stability of spiritual realities transcending 'the confusion (cpupaii;)
and disorder (xapaxr|) of visible things' (Ep. 10 [PG 91, 449D]).
28 Von Balthasar, p. 190.
Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des Methodius von Olympus bzw.
Patara in der Tradition der orthodoxen Kirchen
Katharina Bracht, Berlin
Einleitung
Die Rezeption und Wirkungsgeschichte des Methodius von Olympus bzw.

Patara und seiner Schriften in den liturgischen Texten der orthodoxen Kirchen
ist in der patristischen Forschung bislang weitgehend unbeachtet geblieben.
Um diesen Themenbereich zu erhellen, ist (1) nach dem Bild des Methodius
zu fragen, das durch die hagiographischen und liturgischen Texte seit dem
fruhen Mittelalter bis heute im Bewusstsein der orthodoxen Kirchen gepflegt
und tradiert wird, und (2) nach seiner Funktion fur die Frommigkeit der Glau-
bigen. Im Zentrum der Darstellung stehen das Synaxarium Sirmondianum,
erganzt durch representative Beispiele aus der Ikonographie, sowie der von
Theophanes Graptos verfasste Odenkanon. Dabei ist die Warnung H. Dele-
hayes, der das Synaxarium Sirmondianum edierte1, zu horen: '... il ('all ait pre-
munir le lecteur contre 1 'illusion de voir dans les notices des resumes fideles'2.
Gleichwohl stelle ich die These auf, dass sich in diesen Texten die Rezeption
der methodiamschen Schriften nachweisen lasst.
1. Methodius von Olympus bzw. Patara im Bewusstsein der orthodoxen

Kirchen
1.1 Der Eintrag im Synaxarium Sirmondianum

Das Synaxarium Sirmondianum bietet das alteste und zuverlassigste Quel-
lenmaterial fur die Verehrung des Hl. Methodius von Patara in den Ostkir-
chen3. Es handelt sich um ein vollstandiges Synaxar, das das ganze Kirchen
1 Synaxarium Ecclesiae Constantinopolitanae, hg. v. Hippolyt Delehaye (Briissel, 1902) =

Propylaeum ad Acta Sanctorum Novembris.
2 Hippolyt Delehaye, 'Le synaxaire de Sirmond', AB 14 (1895), 396-434, da 412.
3 Das altere Menologium Basilii (Edition: PG 117; 10. oder friihes 11. Jh.) bietet aufgrund
der Uberlieferungslage hinsichtlich des Textes zu Methodius von Patara eine so unsichere Situa
tion, die keine Aussagen zu Alter und Herkunft dieses spezifischen Textes zulasst, dass sich das
Menologium nicht als Ausgangspunkt fur unsere Untersuchung eignet. Eine Diskussion der Pro-
blematik des in PG 1 17 dem Menologium Basilii zugeschriebenen Textes eines Manuskriptes von
Grotta-Ferrata fiir das Sommerhalbjahr (PG 117, 18; vgl. Delehaye, Synaxaire, S. 404) ist aus
Raumgriinden hier nicht moglich.
58 K. Bracht
jahr umfasst. Die Handschrift befindet sich in der Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin,

sie ist auf das 1 1. bis 13. Jh. zu datieren4. Die Notiz unter dem Datum des 20.
Juni zu Methodius von Patara gibt Auskunft dariiber, was zu dieser Zeit in der
Gegend von Konstantinopel, wo das Synaxar verfasst wurde, iiber Methodius
bekannt war und weshalb sein Gedachtnis gefeiert wurde. Das Synaxarium
Sirmondianum lasst, soviel lasst sich zumindest fiir den Eintrag zu Methodius
von Patara sagen, eine Uberlieferungstradition erkennen, die bis heute unun-
terbrochen ist. Der Wortlaut des heutzutage am 20. Juni gelesenen Synaxars
unterscheidet sich von dem des Synaxarium Sirmondianum vor allem durch
eine Glattung der heutzutage altertiimlich wirkenden Sprache5.
Die ersten Satze der Synaxarnotiz sind richtungweisend fiir die Interpreta
tion:
Omoq 6 naKapio<; £k Trai86<; eairrdv xcp 0e<p avaGei<; cnceuo<; xiuiov6 Kai 8oxeiov
Geiou riveuuaxo<; yeyove- 66ev Kai zt\q Geia<; lepcoauvn<; yticpcp ©eoi3 im^dq
KaXaq Kai BsoipiXaq ercoiuaive xo eauxoC Ttoiuviov7, A,6yoi<; Ttpoar|Vecti Kaxa-
cpcoxiaai; xo xf\q, eKKA.naiai; TtXf|pcoua8.
Diese Satze lassen erkennen, dass das Bild des Methodius, das in den Ost-
kirchen tradiert wird, zwei Aspekte aufweist. Zum einen wird die Reinheit sei
ner Lebensfuhrung herausgestellt. Von friihester Kindheit an widmete Metho
dius sein Leben Gott. Er wird von Gott zum Priesteramt berufen, das er, erfullt
vom Geist Gottes, 'gut und gottliebend' verwaltet. Das Mittel, mit dessen
Hilfe er sein Priesteramt so gelungen ausiibt, sind 'geeignete Worte', i.e. die
Lehre - und damit ist der zweite Aspekt benannt, der fur das Methodiusbild in
den orthodoxen Kirchen charakteristisch ist.
Diese beiden Aspekte, Lebensfuhrung und Lehre, werden im folgenden
Text ausgefuhrt. Zunachst wird der Aspekt der Lehre weiterverfolgt. Metho
dius wendet sich gegen die Haresie des Origenes und vernichtet sie 'durch die
Weisheit der Worte' (aoqrip A,oyov) und gottliche Gnade. Hier ist auf seine
schriftstellerische Tatigkeit angespielt, insbesondere auf seine antiorigenisti-
schen Schriften De resurrectione, De creatis und De autexusio. Die Worte des
Methodius haben der Notiz zufolge eine iiberaus breite Wirkung entfaltet, die
machtvoll in die ganze Welt ausstrahlte. Beachtenswert ist die ausgepragte
4 Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin - PreuBischer Kulturbesitz, Signatur: Ms. Phill. 1622; ebd.

f. 239v, Z. 2-19 die Notiz zu Methodius von Patara. Zur Datierung und Geschichte der Hand
schrift s. Delehaye, Synaxaire, S. 407f. (Datierung 12.-13. Jh.); S. 413, 417 (Datierung 11. Jh.).
5 Matthaios Langes (Hg.), Ho megas synaxaristes tes orthodoxu ekklesias, 5. Aufl. (Athen,
1992), S. 283f. Diese Glattung schlieBt auch eine vorsichtige Erlauterung schwieriger Stellen
durch Hinzufiigung oder durch Eintausch eines unverstandlichen Begriffs ein. Hinzugefiigt
wurde ein Absatz iiber die Schriften des Methodius.
6 Vgl. Rom 9,21; 2 Tim 2,20f.
7 Vgl. Joh 21,16.
8 Zitiert nach der Edition von Delehaye, Sp. 757f.
Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des Methodius von Olympus bzw. Patara 59
Licht-Dunkel-Metaphorik: Gegen die Finsternis (d.xXvq) und die mondlose

Nacht (cncoxOuavia) der Haresie stehen der blitzende Glanz (daxparcf|) und
das gottliche Feuer (rcCp GeTov) der Worte des Methodius. Dieser weltweite
Erfolg seiner Lehre ist dem 'Feind' (£x©p6c;) - gemeint ist der Teufel - jedoch
unertraglich. Deshalb riistet er seine 'Diener' ((moupyoi) auf, damit sie
Methodius hinrichten.
Damit kommt der Text zu dem zweiten Aspekt, dem der Lebensfiihrung des
Methodius. Hier steht das Martyrium im Vordergrund, wobei der Begriff in
zweierlei Weise verstanden wird. Zum einen ist Methodius' leiblicher Tod
durch Enthauptung gemeint, der inn 'zum besseren Leben' (rcp6<; Kpeixxova
Ôr|v), d.h. zum wahren, ewigen Leben bringt. Dieser Martyriumstod wird als
Opferhandlung verstanden, wobei Methodius das lebendige Opfer ist, das Gott
dargebracht wird. Doch bereits zu seinen Lebzeiten hat Methodius 'den lebens-
spendenden Tod angezogen', also gewissermaBen ein Martyrium auf sich
genommen. Damit ist gemeint, dass Methodius wahrend seines Lebens durch
sein Priesteramt und die damit verbundene Askese dem irdischen Leben ent-
sagte und bereits gewissermaBen am himmlischen Leben teilhatte. Da Metho
dius zweier Martyrien stirbt, wird er mit zwei Siegeskranzen geschmiickt.
Hier finden sich enge Beriihrungspunkte mit Methodius' Symposium. Die
Charakterisierung von Methodius' enthaltsamem Leben als Priester, das ihn
bereits am himmlischen Leben teilhaben lieB, entspricht seiner eigenen Defi
nition von Jungfraulichkeit (vgl. z.B. symp. VIII.2.173f.). Hierzu passt es,
dass Methodius zu Beginn der Synaxarnotiz als jemand beschrieben wird,
der sich von Kindesbeinen an Gott iibergab, also fur Gott unberiihrt und
jungfraulich blieb (vgl. symp. V.3.115). Auch die Vorstellung eines Martyri-
ums im Leben findet sich im Symposium. Hier ist die Jungfrau aufgrund
ihres enthaltsamen, asketischen Lebens dem Martyrer gleichgestellt, ja sogar
iiberlegen, denn sie hat nicht nur eine kleine Weile, sondern ihr gesamtes
Leben lang gelitten (symp. VII.3.156f.). Jungfraulichkeit gilt Methodius als
Martyrium. Im Synaxar wird also ein Inhalt seiner Schriften auf sein eigenes
Leben bezogen.
1.2 Zur Ikonographie

1.2.1 Aspekt 'Lebensfiihrung': Methodius von Patara als Martyrer
Diese beiden Aspekte 'Lebensfiihrung' und 'Lehre', die das Bild des
Methodius im Bewusstsein der orthodoxen Kirchen ausmachen, schlagen sich
in der ikonographischen Tradition nieder. Diese lasst sich bis in die Mitte des
16. Jh. zuriickverfolgen. Die Darstellungen aus dieser Zeit greifen jedoch mit
hoher Wahrscheinlichkeit auf altere Traditionen zuriick. Die alteste bekannte
Darstellung des Hl. Methodius von Patara findet sich im Bereich der slawi-
schen Tradition. Sie stammt aus der Klosterkirche von VoroneJ, einem heute
in Rumanien, in der nordlichen Moldau gelegenen Dorf am FuBe der Karpa
60 K. Bracht
ten9. Das Fresko, im Jahre 1547 entstanden, stellt das Martyrium des Metho
dius dar, ganz in der Tradition der hagiographischen Synaxarnotizen als Tod
durch Enthauptung. Am oberen Bildrand ist das Bild als Darstellung des Hl.
Methodius von Patara bezeichnet.
1.2.2 Aspekt 'Lehre': Methodius von Patara als Kirchenlehrer
Ein Beispiel fur die ikonographische Tradition, die den anderen Aspekt des
in den Synaxarien tradierten Bildes von Methodius von Patara aufnimmt und
inn als Kirchenlehrer darstellt, findet sich im Ikonenmalerhandbuch der Fami-
lie Stroganow10. Dieses Malerhandbuch enthalt Malvorlagen und -anleitungen
fur Dconenmaler, die Stilmerkmale der Stroganow- und Zarenschule zu Ende
des 16. Jh. wiedergeben11. Die Vorlagen sind das bereits verfestigte Ergebnis
einer iiber lange Zeit wirksamen Traditionsbildung. Die Skizze zeigt einen
aufrecht stehenden Mann im Bischofsgewand. In den Handen halt er etwa auf
Brusthohe vor sich ein Buch12. Dieses Buch, Zeichen von Methodius' schrift-
stellerischer Tatigkeit, ist das Attribut, das inn in dieser ikonographischen Tra
dition aus der Menge anderer Bischofsdarstellungen heraushebt und erkennbar
macht13. Es weist auf den Aspekt des Kirchenlehrers hin, der durch das schrift-
liche Wort gewirkt hat und noch wirkt.
2. Methodius von Patara in der Frommigkeit der orthodoxen Kirchen:

Der Odenkanon des Theophanes Graptos
Soviel zu dem Bild des Methodius von Patara im Bewusstsein der orthodo
xen Kirchen. Hier schlieBt sich die Frage an, welche Funktion dieses Metho-
dius-Bild fur die Frommigkeit der Glaubigen hat. Einblick gewahren uns die
anderen liturgischen Texte, die am Gedenktag des Heiligen im Gottesdienst
9 S. Petru Cormanescu, Voronej - Fresken aus dem 15. und 16. Jahrhundert, Rumanische
Kunstschatze (Bukarest, 1959); dort Abb. 22. Die Darstellung des Methodius befindet sich im
Rahmen einer Darstellung aller Tage des orthodoxen Kalenders mit den entsprechenden Heiligen
im AuBennarthex. Da viele der dargestellten Motive auf alteren oder neueren Vorbildern beru-
hen, diirfte auch der Abbildung des Methodius eine altere Vorlage zugrunde liegen (aaO., S.
14f.).
10 Ikonenmalerhandbuch der Familie Stroganow, hg. v. Slavischen Institut Miinchen (Miin-
chen, 1965), S. 349.
11 AaO., S. 8.
12 Derselbe Darstellungstyp, den wir im Malerhandbuch der Familie Stroganow als Gesamt-
darstellung kennengelernt haben, kommt auch in der Form eines Portraits vor, s. die Ikone von S.
Stamatisa, in: Blagoslov svetog archangela Michaila, Zitija svetich (Belgrad, 1975), S. 470. Die
Ikone zeigt die Biiste eines Mannes mittleren Alters mit geteiltem Bart, mit zwei Kreuzen
bestickter Stola und Nimbus, die rechte Hand segnend, die linke ein Buch haltend.
13 Einschrankend ist zu bemerken, dafi Ikonen des Hl. Bischofs Nikolaus von Myra diesen
Darstellungen des Methodius sehr ahnlich sehen, vgl. z.B. Konrad Onasch, Ikonen (Gutersloh,
1961), Tafeln 9; 12; 17; 48; 63; 70; 112.
verlesen werden. Besonders aussagekraftig ist der Odenkanon, der im Mor-

gengottesdienst (Orthros) gesungen wird14. Der Text ist von Theophanes
Graptos, einem Hymnographen des 9. Jh. (gest. 845), verfasst worden15. Auch
hier liegt also altes Material vor, das bis heute liturgisch verwendet wird.
Der Odenkanon bietet die hagiographischen Themen des Synaxars in geho-
bener Sprache. Die beiden Aspekte, die das Bild des Methodius von Patara im
Bewusstsein der orthodoxen Kirchen pragen, finden sich auch hier: seine
Lebensfiihrung, die mit den beiden Siegeskranzen ausgezeichnet wurde (Oden
I.2-4; V), und seine groBe Bedeutung als Kirchenschriftsteller und -lehrer
(bes. Ode ID).
Beide Aspekte werden u.a. unter Bezugnahme auf Methodius' eigene
Schriften ausgefiihrt. Hinsichtlich des ersteren, der Lebensfuhrung, werden
Motive aus dem Symposium aufgenommen. Mit ihrer Hilfe wird das himm-
lische Leben beschrieben, das Methodius nach seinem Martyrertod fiihrt: Er
sei aufgenommen worden fiir den Opferaltar im Himmel (Ode lA/symp.
V.6.126f.)16, sei in der hochsten Schau in die gottlichen Dinge eingeweiht wor
den (Ode VII.3; vgl. IV. 1; lXA/symp. VIII.3.175f.) und habe die Frucht des
Baumes des unsterblichen Lebens geerntet (Ode lX.3/symp. IX.3.245f.). Hier
werden dem Symposium theologische Vorstellungen und Motive entnommen,
die dann auf die Person des Methodius selbst projiziert werden.
Hinsichtlich der Lehre lebt der Kanon von der Uberzeugung, dass sie bis in
die Zeit des Betenden fortwirkt: Die SiiBe seiner Lehren flieBe weiter wie ein
Strom bis hin zu den Betenden (Ode IV.3), die sich an ihrer Fiille (VIII.4)
erquicken. Dabei geschieht die Lehre nicht nur direkt durch Methodius bzw.
seine Schriften (III.2), sondern auch durch die Vermittlung derer, die seine
Schriften gelesen haben. Die Leser seines Symposiums nahren mit der 'festen
Speise', die sie in diesem geistlichen Gastmahl empfangen haben, wiederum
andere (III.4).
Methodius' Lehre gilt als Mittel gegen mancherlei Irrlehren, gegen die ori-
genistische Haresie (Ode III. 1), aber auch gegen diejenigen, die zu dem jewei
14 Menaia tu holu eniautu. Tomos 5 periechon ten anikusan akoluthian ton maiu kai iuniu
menon, 1. Aufl. (Rom, 1899), S. 321-327. Der entsprechende Text des Menaions der russisch-
orthodoxen Kirche: Mineja lun\ i, cast' vtoraja (Moskau, 1986), S. 140-147, unterscheidet sich
kaum davon, da es sich im Wesentlichen um eine Ubersetzung des griechischen Textes handelt.
Drei Ausnahmen gibt es indes: Das vierte Troparion der Ode IV fehlt im slawischen Menaion;
hinzugekommen sind ein Troparion, das dem Kanon vorangeht, und ein Kondak, der zwischen
der 6. und 7. Ode eingeschoben ist.
15 Dem Odenkanon ist der Hinweis auf den Verfasser vorangestellt, s. Menaia tu holu
eniautu. Tomos 5, S. 322; vgl. Theodoros Xydes, Vyzantine Ymnografia (Athen, 1978), S. 137.
Zur Datierung vgl. Hans-Georg Beck, Kirche und theologische Literatur im byzantinischen
Reich, Handbuch der Altertumswissenschaft 12. Abt., 2. Teil, 1. Bd. (Miinchen, 1959), S. 516f.
16 In symp. V.6.126 bezeichnet Methodius unter Berufung auf eine namentlich nicht genannte
Autoritat die Versammlung der Heiligen als unblutigen Altar Gottes (Guaiaaxf|piov dvaiuaK-
xov Geou); anschlieBend folgt als Schriftbeleg Ex 25,40. Vielleicht steht Polyc. ep. 4.3 im Hin-
tergrund, wo die Witwen als Guaiacrtrjpiov 8eoC bezeichnet werden.
62 K. Bracht
ligen Zeitpunkt, an dem der Kanon gebetet wird, im Schwange sind

(Polytheismus: Hesperinos, Sticheron 2; Atheismus: VI.4). In Ode IX. 1 wird
Methodius um Fiirbitte angerufen, damit Christus 'die Konstruktionen der
Haresien unter uns' (ra KaG' fincov urixavoupyr|ua'ca) beende. Methodius
wird als in besonderer Weise fur den Kampf gegen Irrlehren zustandig ange-
sehen, weil der Verfasser des Odenkanons um Methodius' antiorigenistische
Polemik weiB. Auch im Odenkanon lasst sich also eine Rezeption der Schrif-
ten des Methodius erkennen, sei es anhand der Aufnahme von Motiven, sei es
durch explizite Bezugnahme auf seine Schriften.
Im Hinblick auf die Bedeutung, die der Hl. Methodius fur die Frommigkeit
der Glaubigen hat, lassen sich drei verschiedene Funktionen ausmachen:
1. Der gesamte Kanon wird von dem Gedachtnis des Methodius als eines
Vorbildes und Wegweisers gerahmt (Oden I.1 und IX.4). Hier liegt die Vor-
stellung zugrunde, dass Methodius bereits den Weg gegangen ist, den alle
Glaubigen, auch die 'gewohnlichen' Glaubigen, gehen wollen. Sie alle hoffen
darauf, wie Methodius selbst (IX.2) dereinst zu Gott zu kommen und das ewige
Leben zu erlangen (I.1), kurz: gerettet zu werden (Kathisma). Deshalb wird an
Methodius die Bitte gerichtet, den Glaubigen den Weg zum Heil zu zeigen
(I.1; IX.4). Da Methodius all die Kampfe und Anfechtungen dieses Weges
bereits bestanden hat, wird er auch als Vorkampfer (Ttpouaxo<;; IX.4) bezeich-
net. Nicht nur in zeitlicher Hinsicht geht Methodius den Betenden voran, son-
dern er bietet ihnen auch das Vorbild, an dem sie sich orientieren konnen. In
diesem Sinne hat die Verehrung des Hl. Methodius didaktische Funktion.
2. Neben dieser Vorbildfunktion hat Methodius nach den Texten des Oden
kanons die Moglichkeit, Einfluss zu nehmen auf die Rettung der Glaubigen,
indem er im Jiingsten Gericht als ihr Botschafter (rcpea(3u^; IX. 1) zwischen
ihnen und Christus vermittelt (VI.2) und Fiirsprache fur sie einlegt (V.2f.).
Diese Mittlerfunktion des Hl. Methodius ist von so groBer Bedeutung fur die
Frommigkeit der Glaubigen, dass sogar sein gesamtes Martyrium darauf bezo-
gen wird: Methodius sei 'um unseretwillen' (8i' fina<;) Christus als Opfer dar-
gebracht worden, beten die Glaubigen im Kathisma.
3. SchlieBlich ist Methodius nicht nur das Gegenuber, das gepriesen und zu
dem gebetet wird17. Vielmehr ist er eingebunden in die Gemeinschaft, die
Methodius und die Glaubigen im Verhaltnis zu Christus bzw. Gott bilden:
Beide 'Parteien', die Glaubigen und Methodius, preisen gemeinsam Gott bzw.
Christus (VII: Gott; VIII: Christus). So ist garantiert, dass bei aller Verehrung
des Methodius die Grenzen zwischen Menschlichem und Gottlichem nicht
verwischt werden.
17 Vgl. die Vokative in jedem einzelnen Troparion des Kanons; vgl. besonders Kathisma;
Ode V; Ode IX.
Zusammenfassung
Im Odenkanon des Theophanes Graptos zum Gedenktag des Hl. Methodius

von Patara sind exemplarisch drei Funktionen der Heiligenverehrung fiir
die Ffommigkeit der Glaubigen zu erkennen. Methodius wird im Gebet als
Vorbild und Wegweiser sowie als Mittler und Fursprecher angerufen. Trotz
dieser herausgehobenen Rolle bleibt unvergessen, dass er Teil der glaubigen
Gemeinde ist.
Dariiberhinaus lasst der Odenkanon wie die Synaxarnotizen und die ikono-
graphische Tradition erkennen, dass das Bild des Methodius von Patara im
Bewusstsein der orthodoxen Kirchen zwei Aspekte aufweist: Zum einen wird
seine Lebensfiihrung als Priester und Martyrer herausgestellt, zum anderen
wird die Bedeutung gewiirdigt, die Methodius aufgrund seiner Schriften als
Kirchenlehrer hat. Dabei weist das Bild des Methodius keineswegs ausschlieB-
lich typisierende Ziige auf, sondern spiegelt die Kenntnis und Aufnahme sei
ner Schriften wider. Mit Sicherheit lasst sich die Kenntnis der antiorigenisti-
schen Schriften nachweisen sowie in besonderer Weise die Rezeption des
Symposium.
Insofern ist die anfangs zitierte Warnung Delehayes einzuschranken und
positiv zu erganzen: Zwar diirfen die hagiographischen und liturgischen Texte
der Ostkirchen zum Gedenktag des Hl. Methodius nicht als historische
Berichte genommen werden, wobei sie diesen Anspruch auch gar nicht erhe-
ben. Gleichwohl basieren sie in wesentlichen Ziigen auf der Rezeption der
methodianischen Schriften.
Kirchengeschichte als Hagiographie?
Zur theologischen Konzeption des Johannes von Ephesus
Peter Bruns, Bamberg
Einleitung
Die historiographische Literatur1 der Syrer scheint in den letzten Jahrzehnten

aus ihrem Schattendasein herausgetreten zu sein. Ein Vergleich mit der
ErschlieBung byzantinischer Quellen laBt zwar noch immer einen gehorigen
Riickstand erkennen - was nicht zuletzt sprachliche Grande hat -, doch hat die
Erkenntnis zunehmend an Boden gewonnen, wonach die Erforschung etwa der
byzantinisch-arabischen und byzantinisch-persischen Beziehungen ohne Unter-
suchung der syrischen Kirchengeschichte nicht auskommt2. Keineswegs laBt sich
behaupten, die syrische Historiographie liege schlechthin brach. Einzelne syri-
sche Kirchenhistoriker wie Johannes von Ephesus haben erst jiingst monogra-
phische Beachtung3 gefunden, aber auch davor schon die Chronik des Pseudo-
Dionysius von Tel-Mahre4, zuletzt noch die Chronik des Josua Stylites5. Der
kompilatorische Charakter der westsyrischen, 'jakobitischen' Geschichtsschrei-
bung kommt besonders im Werk Michaels des Syrers6 zum Tragen. Die Erfor
schung syrischer Historiographie wird durch den Umstand begiinstigt, daB auf
diesem Felde die editorischen Voraussetzungen groBtenteils bereits gegeben
1 Einen Uberblick bietet Peter Nagel, 'Grundziige syrischer Geschichtsschreibung', in: Quel
len zur Geschichte des friihen Byzanz (4.-9. Jahrhundert), hrsg. v. Friedhelm Winkelmann und
Wolfram Brandes, Berliner Byzantinische Arbeiten 55 (Berlin, 1990) 245-259.
2 Verwiesen sei hier auf das VI. Buch des III. Teils der Kirchengeschichte des Johannes von
Ephesus. Dem Araberfursten Mundar bar Harith sind einige Kapitel gewidmet. Die Bedeutung
orientalischer Quellen fur die Rekonstruktion der byzantinischen Reichsgrenzen ist seit Honig-
mann allgemein bekannt, vgl. Ernst I lonigmann. Die Ostgrenze des byzantinischen Reiches von
363 bis 1071 nach griechischen, arabischen, syrischen und armenischen Quellen (Briissel, 1935).
3 Vgl. etwa Jan. J. van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus. A Monophysite Historian in Sixth-Century
Byzantium', (Diss. Groningen, Rijksuniv. 1995); Siegfried G. Richter, Studien zur Christianisie-
rung Nubiens (Wiesbaden, 2002).
4 Witold Witakowski, The Syriac Chronicle of Pseudo-Dionysius of Tel-Mahre. A Study in
the History of Historiography (Uppsala, 1987); Pseudo-Dionysius of Tel-Mahre, Chronicle
(Known also as the Chronicle of Zuqnin, Part III, tr. Witold Witakowski, Translated Texts for
Historians 22 (Liverpool, 1996).
5 Andreas Luther, Die syrische Chronik des Josua Stylites (Berlin/New York, 1997).
6 Dorothea Weltecke, Die 'Beschreibung der Zeiten' von Mor Michael dem Grqfien (1126-
1199). Eine Studie zu ihrem historischen und historiographiegeschichtlichen Kontext (Louvain,
2003).
66 P. Bruns
sind, obwohl manche Chronik noch der Herausgabe7 harrt. Eine theologische
Sichtung und Wertung des vorhandenen, konfessionell kolorierten Quellenmate-
rials bleibt jedoch nach wie vor Aufgabe des Kirchenhistorikers.
Beziiglich des nestorianischen Kirchenhistorikers Daniel bar Maryam8
(Arbela-Chronik) urteilt Erika Degen nicht unzutreffend: 'Ihren eigentlichen
Ursprung hat die nestorianische Kirchengeschichtsschreibung jedoch in den
syrischen Martyrerakten und Heiligenviten. Aus dieser literarischen Gattung
entwickelte sie die nestorianische Kirchengeschichtsschreibung, ohne sich je
ganz von ihr zu trennen.' Die Frage muB erlaubt sein: Gilt ein solches Dictum
ohne Einschrankung auch fur den 'Jakobiten' Johannes von Ephesus?
Das Leben des Johannes von Ephesus
Die wichtigsten Lebensdaten des Johannes lassen sich aus den wenigen
Andeutungen in seinem Werk9 rekonstruieren. Da Johannes' Schreibstil nicht
immer sehr klar und eindeutig ist, seine Chronologie oft im Unbestimmten
verbleibt und nur wenige konkrete Hinweise enthalt, kommt der Historiker an
einigen Punkten seiner Biographie iiber begriindete Vermutungen kaum hin-
aus. Johannes wurde um 507 in der Gegend von Ingila, nordlich von Amida
(Mesopotamien) geboren. Seine Geschwister verstarben friih, noch vor Errei-
chung des zweiten Lebensjahres. Auch Johannes verfugt iiber eine eher debile
Gesundheit. Die Genesung von einer ansteckenden Krankheit auf die Furspra-
che des Saulenstehers Maro, des Lokalheiligen im Raum von Amida, lieB in
den Eltern den EntschluB reifen, ihren Sohn Johannes als puer oblatus zur Ele-
mentarbildung ins Maro-Kloster zu geben. Die monastische Laufbahn war
damit vorgezeichnet. Nach dem Tode des heiligmaBigen Asketen wechselte
Johannes im Alter von funfzehn Jahren in das Kloster des Mar Johannes
Urtaya, welches sich ebenfalls im Stadtgebiet von Amida befand. In diese Zeit
unter den chalkedonischen Patriarchen von Antiochien, Paul (519-521) und
Euphrasius (521-526), fallen die ersten Monophysitenverfolgungen10; 521
wurde der Konvent der Stadt verwiesen und zog sich in das Kloster des Mar
Mama auf dem Land zuriick. Weitere Exilierungen folgten; 530 ebbte dann
7 Als Beispiel sei die Chronik des Johannes bar Penkaye genannt, zur Uberlieferungsge-
schichte vgl. den Beitrag von Hubert Kaufhold, 'Anmerkungen zur Textuberlieferung der Chronik
des Johannes bar Penkaya', OrChr 87 (2003), 65-79; zur theologiegeschichtlichen Wiirdigung
vgl. Peter Bruns, 'Von Adam und Eva bis Mohammed', OrChr 87 (2003), 47-64.
8 Erika Degen, 'Daniel bar Maryam. Ein nestorianischer Kirchenhistoriker', OrChr 52
(1968), 45-80, hier: 49.
9 Vgl. dazu van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 27-37; Richter, Christianisierung
Nubiens (wie Anm. 3), 29f.
10 Zu den christologischen Streitigkeiten in diesem Zeitraum vgl. Alois Grillmeier, Jesus der
Christus im Glauben der Kirche 2/2. Die Kirche von Konstantinopel im 6. Jahrhundert (Freiburg,
1989).
Kirchengeschichte als Hagiographie? 67
die Verfolgung ab, und die Monche kehrten wieder nach Amida zuriick. In der
Zwischenzeit war Johannes durch Johannes von Telia zum Diakon geweiht
worden. Die zwanziger Jahre waren fiir Johannes ganzlich vom asketischen
Ideal gepragt. 530 lieB er sich in Amida in einer Zelle nieder; Reisen zu pro-
minenten Asketen in der nitrischen Wiiste, aber auch nach Konstantinopel
schlossen sich an. 532 fand in der Reichshauptstadt die collatio cum Severia-
nis statt, bei der die gemaBigten Monophysiten fiir das Chalcedonense gewon-
nen werden sollten; doch die Unionsbemiihungen scheiterten. Patriarch
Ephram von Antiochien und der nach Konstantinopel beorderte romische
Papst Agapet verhangten 536 iiber die renitenten Severianer den Kirchenbann.
Johannes hatte auf der Synodos Endemusa unter Patriarch Menas die mono-
physitische Sache vertreten. Das dort ausgesprochene Anathem fiihrte zu
neuen Verfolgungen dissidenter Monophysiten; auch Johannes' Konvent von
Amida war davon betroffen und muBte ins Exil. Johannes nutzte die Zwangs-
ausweisung, um ausgedehnte Reisen nach Syrien, Mesopotamien, Palastina
und Agypten zu unternehmen. Nachdem der Sturm sich gelegt hatte, begab er
sich wieder nach Konstantinopel, um die dortige kleine Herde der Monophysi
ten zu sammeln. Dies war wohl gegen 540; wenig spater, 542, finden wir inn
nach Ausbruch der verheerenden Pest in unmittelbarer Umgebung des Kaisers
Justinian. GewiB war seine einfluBreiche Position dem Wirken der Kaiserin
Theodora zu verdanken, die vieles fiir die monophysitischen Gemeinschaften
in der Reichshauptstadt tat. Jedenfalls wird Johannes 542 vom Kaiser hochst-
personlich mit der Aufgabe der Heidenmission in Kleinasien betraut. Nach
eigenen Angaben11 - die Zahlen schwanken allerdings - hat er in Kleinasien
zwischen 70.000 und 80.000 Seelen bekehrt, 98 Kirchen errichtet, 12 Kloster
gegriindet sowie sieben Synagogen in Kirchen umgewandelt. In der Nahe von
Tralles12 errichtete er das Mutterkloster Dar(e)ira auf den Triimmern eines
heidnischen Tempels, von dem ausgehend, er gezielt die Tochtergriindungen
in Kleinasien vorantrieb, welche ihrerseits wiederum Keimzellen fiir die Mis
sion unter der heidnischen Landbevolkerung bildeten. Michael der Syrer13
berichtet zwar, die Neubekehrten seien Chalkedonier geworden, doch da
Johannes selber ein strenger Parteiganger der Monophysiten war und auch von
Syrien aus personell und finanziell unterstiitzt wurde, ist nicht anzunehmen,
daB er in Kleinasien zum Schaden der monophysitischen Sache gewirkt habe.
Bei einer Missionskampagne stieB er auch auf die Reliquien des Montanus,
des Griinders jener phrygischen Sekte, der auch der Nordafrikaner Tertullian
angehorte. Der Missionar lieB diese letzten Uberbleibsel einer ausgestorbenen
Haresie in aller Offentlichkeit verbrennen14. Nicht daB Johannes grundsatzlich
11 Vgl. dazu die Diskussion bei van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 31, Anm. 42.
12 Johannes von Ephesus, h. e. III.3.36f.
13 Vgl. dazu van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 3 If.
14 Diese Begebenheit wird bei Ps-Dionysius und Michael dem Syrer erwahnt, vgl. dazu van
Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 32.
68 P. Bruns
eine Abneigung gegen den Reliquienkult gehabt hatte - er forderte ihn ja eif-
rig in den eigenen syrischen Klostern -, er wollte auf diese Weise lediglich
einen haretischen Kult unterbinden, was ihm auch gelang. Nach dem Zeugnis
Michaels des Syrers, h. e. 9.33, verbrannte Johannes etwa 2000 heidnische
Werke, Biicher und Statuen eingeschlossen. Sein missionarischer Eifer wurde
belohnt: Um 558 weihte ihn der Untergrundbischof Jakob Baradaeus15 zum
monophysitischen Metropoliten von Ephesus. Freilich konnte Johannes von
seiner Diozese nicht Besitz ergreifen, sondern hielt sich zumeist in Dareira bei
Tralles oder im Mar Mara Kloster, einer monophysitischen Hochburg, am Gol-
denen Horn auf. Als Abt, Missionar und nach 558 auch als Bischof wurde er
zu einem der prominentesten Vertreter der monophysitischen Sache in der
Reichshauptstadt und in dieser Eigenschaft ein enger Vertrauter des exilierten
alexandrinischen Patriarchen Theodosius, der bis 566 in Konstantinopel
wirkte. Nach dessen Tod 566 war Johannes16 der fiihrende Kopf des antichal-
kedonischen Widerstandes, geriet aber innerhalb der monophysitischen Bewe-
gung immer mehr zwischen die Fronten der einzelnen Gruppen und Parteiun-
gen17. Mehrmals suchte er zwischen den divergierenden Richtungen zu
vermitteln und die Krafte der Bewegung zu biindeln, was ihm aber nicht
gelang. Auch nach dem Tode Justinians 565 unter dem neuen Kaiser Justin JJ.
war Johannes der monophysitische Gesprachspartner fur die chalkedonischen
Theologen schlechthin. Unter dem chalkedonischen Patriarchen von Konstan
tinopel, Johannes Scholasticus18, kam es 571 zu einer weiteren Verschlechte-
rung des Gesprachsklimas. Johannes von Ephesus verweigerte die Kom-
munion der Synoditen, wie er die Chalkedonier abschatzig nannte, und
bezahlte seine Hartnackigkeit mit dem Exil am Marmarameer. Bis zum Tode
des Johannes Scholasticus 577 blieb er unter Hausarrest. Unter dem Konstan-
tinopler Patriarchen Eutychius (577-582), der selbst aus dem Exil zuriickgeru-
fen wurde, kam es zu einer leichten Besserung der Beziehungen zur Reichs-
kirche, doch muBte Johannes einige Kloster raumen lassen. Politische
Unterstiitzung erhielt Johannes 580 in dem Araberscheich Al-Mundhir19, der
15 Vgl. dazu David D. Bundy, 'Jacob Baradaeus. The State of Research', Mus 91 (1978), 45-86.
16 Vgl. h. e. III.4.45.
17 Auf das Problem des Tritheismus kann an dieser Stelle nicht eingegangen werden. Der
christologischen Frage ist die trinitarische inharent. Wird die Physis des Erlosers als eine einzige
und individuelle aufgefaBt, kommt man nicht umhin, dem Vater und dem Geist eine je eigene
Natur zuzuschreiben, was freilich einen Bruch mit der kappadokischen Trinitatsterminologie zur
Folge hat. Vgl. auch Albert van Roey, 'La controverse tritheite depuis la condamnation de Conon
et d'Eugene', in: Von Kanaan bis Kerala: Festschrift fur Prof. Mag. Dr. Dr. J.P.M. van der
Ploeg O.P., hrsg. v. W.C. Delsman et al., Alter Orient und Altes Testament 211 (Neukirchen-
Vluyn, 1982); vgl. ders., 'La controverse trith6ite jusqu'a l'excommunication de Conon et d'Eu
gene', OLP 16 (1985), 141-165.
18 Vgl. Johannes von Ephesus, h.e. III. 1.5. Der chalkedonische Patriarch kommt natiirlich in
der Darstellung des Johannes schlecht weg. Leider fehlen hier einige Kapitel zu Beginn des drit-
ten Teiles. Das bei Michael dem Syrer, h. e. 9.30; 10.3 dargebotene Material stammt wohl aus
dem zweiten Teil.
19 Vgl. dazu Irfan Shahid, Byzantium and the Arabs in the Fifth Century (Washington, 1989).
Kirchengeschichte als Hagiographic? 69
seine Ghassaniden auf byzantinischer Seite gegen die Perser und ihre arabi-
schen Hilfstruppen in die Schlacht fiihrte. Doch machten in den letzten
Lebensjahren die internen Schismen der monophysitischen Bewegung20,
besonders zwischen den Agyptern und den Syrern - 581 weihte der alexandri-
nische Patriarch Damian Petrus von Kallinikos zum Bischof von Antiochien -,
Johannes immer mehr zu schaffen. Johannes weigerte sich, die Giiltigkeit der
Weihen anzuerkennen. Dieser Streit scheint derm auch das letzte groBere
Ereignis gewesen zu sein, an dem er aktiv teilnahm. Mit dem Jahre 588 endete
der dritte Teil der Kirchengeschichte, kurz darauf muB Johannes dann gestor-
ben sein. Nach einer nicht ganz verlaBlichen Notiz bei Michael dem Syrer21 sei
Johannes in Chalkedon verstorben, nachdem er noch gut ein Jahr im Gefang-
nis zugebracht hatte, und unter groBer Anteilnahme der Bevolkerung der
Reichshauptstadt, Chalkedonier wie Nichtchalkedonier, sei er schlieBlich zu
Grabe getragen worden.
Johannes' Modell der Kirchengeschichtsschreibung
Die Hauptwerke des Johannes, die Vitae beatorum orientalium sowie die
beiden Teile der Historia ecclesiastica, stammen aus den letzten Lebens
jahren22 und sind die Summe eines reichen literarischen Schaffens. Einige
Friihwerke23 gelten als verloren. Bedauerlicherweise ist Johannes' opus mag
num, seine Kirchengeschichte, nur unvollstandig iiberliefert, ein Teil hat in
Form von groBeren Zitaten und Ausziigen bei spateren Autoren (Ps-Diony-
sius; Michael der Syrer) iiberlebt. Leider fehlen die fur die Aussageabsicht des
Autors so entscheidenden Einleitungskapitel zur Kirchengeschichte; gliickli-
cherweise verhalt es sich im Falle der Monchsviten anders. In Anspielung auf
die Bergpredigt (Mt 5,16), wonach es den heiligen Jiingern Christi ziemlich
sei, ihr Licht vor den Menschen leuchten zu lassen, fiihrt Johannes beziiglich
seines Unterfangens, eine Geschichte der heiligen Vater zu verfassen, aus:
Aus diesem Grunde in der Kraft seines Wortes und der Hoffnung auf seine Gabe haben
wir Mut gefaBt und, auch wenn die Aufgabe vielleicht fur uns zu groB erscheinen mag,
es gewagt, uns der Miihe hinsichtlich der Abfassung von Geschichten beziiglich ihres
Wandels, ihres heldenhaften Triumphes und ihrer guten Taten zu unterziehen, dam it
20 Mehrere Kapitel (41, 43-47) im vierten Buch des dritten Teiles der Kirchengeschichte sind
diesen Querelen gewidmet.
21 Es scheint wohl ein Einschub von zweiter Hand zu sein, vgl. dazu van Ginkel, 'John of
Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 37, Anm. 89.
22 565-567; 567-571; 577-588; zu den Werken des Johannes vgl. van Ginkel, 'John of Ephe
sus' (wie Anm. 3), 39-44 (Lives of Eastern Saints); 45-68 (Teil I-II der KG), 69-85 (Teil ID der
KG). Ausgabe des syr. Textes mit lat. fibers, in der CSCO 105/106 (E.W. Brooks), dt. Uberset-
zung bei Joseph Schonfelder, Die Kirchengeschichte des Johannes von Ephesus (Munchen,
1862). Syr. Text und engl. Ubersetzung der Monchsviten finden sich in der PO 17,1-307; 18,513-
698; 20,153-285 (E.W. Brooks).
23 Vgl. van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 87-91.
70 P. Bruns
wir, wenn auch etwas verschwommen, mit Hilfe der schlichten, fast verachtlichen Far-
ben unserer armseligen Rede das Gleichnis (cfmutd) ihrer Bilder (Ikonen) fur unsere
Nachfahren malen und unsere Aufzeichnungen dem Andenken hinterlassen.24
Die Heiligen als Ikonen und der Historiker als Kunstler, der die Tugenden
der Asketen zu einem Gemalde vereint, dies ist Johannes' Konzeption von
Kirchengeschichte. Was das Monchsleben anbelangt, so kann er auf iiberwie-
gend miindlich tradierte exempla-Sammlungen zuriickgreifen. Im Vordergrund
dieses hagiographischen Interesses steht nicht die Skizzierung einer Gesamt-
personlichkeit, sondern bestimmte Einzelziige der geschilderten Personen, ihre
Beispielhaftigkeit in Tugend und Frommigkeit. Individuelle Eigenarten und
psychologische Stimmungen treten demgegenuber in den Hintergrund, was
nicht bedeutet, daB unser Autor nicht zu einer psychologischen Deutung fahig
ware, doch spielen sie in der hagiographischen Literatur allenfalls eine unter-
geordnete Rolle. Die Erfordernisse einer instruktiven Geschichtsschreibung
verlangen nach dem illustrierenden Beispiel. Als Asket hat Johannes ein leb-
haftes Interesse, die Gesamtgeschichte allgemein, aber auch die Geschichte
der Kirche im besonderen, moralisch-exemplarisch auszuwerten. Gerade der
padagogische Aspekt ist bei Johannes m. E. nicht zu vernachlassigen, er riickt
seine Auffassung von Monchs- und Kirchengeschichte in die Nahe der Pre-
digt, der monastischen exhortatio, wenn es z. B. heiBt:
So glauben wir, daB, wenn die Leute auf ihre guten Werke und ihren bewunderungs-
wurdigen Lebenswandel stoBen und ihn sehen, ein doppelter Nutzen daraus entspringt:
zum einen, daB sie, wenn sie ihre guten Taten sehen, ihren Vater im Himmel preisen,
wie geschrieben steht, und zweitens, wenn das Licht von den Erzahlungen ihrer Taten
aufleuchtet iiber die von den Nichtigkeiten dieser Welt verdunkelten, vom Irrtum ver-
finsterten Seelen, daB diese dann selbst durch das Licht ihrer Triumphe erleuchtet und
zu ihrer Nachahmung ermuntert werden.25
Kirchengeschichte, dargestellt am Beispiel einzelner gottbegnadeter Aske
ten, wird so Erbauungsliteratur, die sich vornehmlich, wenngleich nicht aus-
schlieBlich, an ein asketisches Publikum wendet. Johannes hat seine Zuge-
horigkeit zu asketischen Kreisen nie verleugnet - das wird schon allein daran
deutlich, mit welcher Warme er den Heimatkonvent des Mar Johannes Urtaya
zeichnet -, und auch im Rahmen der Kirchengeschichte, die im Vergleich zur
Monchsgeschichte etwas weltlicher erscheinen mag, spricht er den Leser gele-
gentlich mit 'meine Briider'26 an. Mit groBer Warme und Anteilnahme wird
das Missionswerk in Kleinasien beschrieben sowie der Beitrag, den die von
Johannes gegriindeten Kloster dazu leisteten. Auch fehlt es in der Kirchenge
schichte nicht an exemplarischen Heiligen, die wegen ihres heroischen
24 Prooemium: PO 17, If.

25 Prooemium: PO 17,2.
26 Van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 94, Anm. 10, hat die Belege zusammenge-
tragen.
Kirchengeschichte als Hagiographie? 71
Tugendgrades eigens Erwahnung finden, obgleich sie auf der politischen

Biihne jener Tage eher Randfiguren blieben. Ihnen allen hat Johannes ein
literarisches Denkmal gesetzt, so etwa jener rebellischen Nonne, die mit den
dogmatischen Neuerungen des Chalcedonense haderte und deshalb in einen
anderen Konvent strafversetzt wurde (h. e. III.2.39), oder jenem Hofbeamten
(h. e. III.2.9), der sich standhaft weigerte, die Kommunion der 'Synoditen'
(Chalkedonier) zu empfangen und deshalb seinen Posten verlor.
Johannes schreibt, obwohl er standig in der Reichshauptstadt lebt und
flieBend griechisch spricht27, syrisch. Aufgewachsen in den nordmesopotami-
schen Klostern Mar Maro und Mar Johannes Urtaya, artikuliert er seine
Gedanken in jenem Idiom, das ihm seit seiner friihesten Jugend vertraut war.
Als Historiker und geistlicher Schriftsteller wendet er sich nicht an die kleine,
versprengte monophysitische Herde syrischer Zunge in Konstantinopel, son-
dern vornehmlich an die Glaubensbriider in den Konventen und Klostern des
nordlichen Zweistromlandes. Der Grundtenor im Gesamtwerk ist eher endzeit-
lich duster (h. e. III. 1.3). Das Schifflein der Kirche wird von den Wellen der
Haresien geradezu uberschwemmt; die wenigen Rechtglaubigen erdulden Ver-
folgung durch die vermeintlichen Glaubensbriider. Der Verfasser will seine
Erinnerungen der Nachwelt uberliefern, doch weiB er nicht, ob diese ange-
sichts des nahen Endes uberhaupt noch eine Zukunft hat.
Resiimiert man die historische Leistung des Johannes von Ephesus, so ist
freilich zu konstatieren, daB er aus dem etwas verengten Blickwinkel konfes-
sioneller, gegen den Chalkedonismus der Reichskirche gerichteten Polemik
heraus schreibt. Gleichwohl hat er manches historische Detail getreuer
bewahrt als seine literarischen Vorbilder28. Als Geschichtsschreiber weiB er
sich zwar der Tradition antiker Historiographie verpflichtet, steht daher dem
Erbe der Spatantike sehr nahe, doch tragt er die historischen Fakten in einen
stark apokalyptisch gefarbten Horizont29 ein.
Ganz bewuBt spiegelt Johannes die historischen Ereignisse in kirchlich-
monastischer Brechung wider und avanciert damit zu einem Kirchenhistoriker
und Hagiographen par excellence.
27 Vgl. dazu van Ginkel, 'John of Ephesus' (wie Anm. 3), 94-96.
28 Hier sei nur etwa an die Schilderung der Pestepidemie in Konstantinopel 542 erinnert, vgl.
dazu Mischa Meier, 'Beobachtungen zu den sogenannten Pestschilderungen bei Thukydides II
47-54 und bei Prokop, Bell. Pers. II 22-23', Tyche 14 (1999), 177-210, bes. 197-204. Auch die
Studie von Richter (wie Anm. 3) hat die historische Relevanz des Nubienberichtes bestatigt.
29 Charakteristisch ist fur die Geschichtsdeutung des Johannes der Rekurs auf den Tun- und
Ergehen-Zusammenhang etwa im Zusammenhang mit der Pest, die als gottliches Strafgericht fur
die ungerechte Verfolgung der 'Orthodoxen' (= Monophysiten) gedeutet wird. Aber auch die
Bekehrung der Heiden in Nubien steht in einem eschatologischen Kontext, da nun die Verkiindi-
gung des Gottesreiches die Enden der Erde erreicht habe und die Parusie bevorstehe, vgl. h. e.
m.4.53 mit Bezug auf Mt 24,14.
Epiphanius of Salamis as a Monastic Author?
The so-called Testamentum Epiphanii in the Context of
Fourth-Century Spiritual Trends
Istvan M. Bugar, Debrecen1
Although Epiphanius of Salamis is mainly known for his ardent fights

against heresies and especially as a key figure in the late-fourth-century anti-
Origenist movement, in his time he was renowned as one of the most impor
tant monastic founders, who did not give up the spiritual guidance of his
monastery in Palestine even as an archbishop of Cyprus2. His writings, how
ever, reveal almost nothing of his monastic activity and teaching. In this paper
I gather together some information about his spiritual doctrine and provide a
comprehensive analysis of a fragment attributed to Epiphanius which played a
key role in the Iconoclastic Controversy and in modern debates about the rise
of a Christian cult of images.
The alphabetical collection of the Apophthegmata Patrum preserves a num
ber of moral stories under the name of Epiphanius3, but these are of debated
authenticity4 and in any case reveal very little of his spiritual doctrine. The
only exception is probably the third saying under his name, which deals with
daily and ceaseless prayer. The same teaching is repeated in a fragment of a
letter by Epiphanius to the Emperor Theodosius5. His fourth saying places
daily mutual reconciliation at the centre of spiritual life, which is reflected also
1 I am grateful to Istvan Perczel and to Nicholas Gendle, Oxford, for their advice on style.
2 Sozomen, HE 6.32.1-6; cf. Jon F. Dechow, Dogma and Mysticism in Early Christianity:
Epiphanius of Cyprus and the Legacy ofOrigen (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1988), 36-41.
3 Nos. 196-212.
4 Cf. J. C. Guy, Recherches sur la tradition greques des Apophthegmata Patrum, Subsidia
hagiographica 36 (Bruxelles, 1962) ad indicem. However, if it is true that the collection was pre
pared around Gaza, that is to say, not far from the site Epiphanius' monastery, we can give more
credit to the tradition. On the place of the compilation of the Apophthegmata, see Samuel Ruben-
son, 'The Egyptian Relations of Early Palestinian Monasticism', in The Christian Heritage in the
Holy Land, ed. Anthony O'Mahony, Goran Gunner and Kevork Hintlian (London: Scorpion
Cavendish, 1995), 43.
5 On the reconstruction of the letter, see my 'Mit is frt Epiphaniosz Theodosziosz csaszarnak?
[What did Epiphanius write to Emperor Theodosius?]' In Studia Patrum: A Magyar Patrisztikai
Tdrsasdg I. Konferencidja az Okori keresztenysegrol (Kecskemet 2001. Junius 21-23), ed. by
Peter Nemeshegyi S.J. and Rihmer Zoltan, 91-100 (Budapest: Szent Istvan Tasulat, 2002);
Forthcoming in English: 'What dit Epiphanius write to Emperor Theodosius', in Universum
Hagiographicum (Scrinium 2, St. Petersburg), 34-53.
74 I. M. BugAr
in the Life of Epiphanius, an important document that we shall consider later

on. These sayings, however, elaborate on basic teachings of the Gospel and are
less revealing of a characteristic spiritual doctrine.
There is, however, a fragment that survives supposedly from the testament
of Epiphanius and became known during the Iconoclastic Controversy. As I
shall point out, these few lines contain in a condensed form a spiritual theory
characteristic of the different monastic movements of the late fourth century.
Our analysis, however, will also show that the relationship of Epiphanius to
these teachings is problematic, thus our investigations will finally reveal more
about the mutual connections of these spiritual trends, than about Epiphanius
himself.
Besides the so-called Testamentum Epiphanii a number of fragments attrib
uted to Epiphanius came to light in the Iconoclastic Controversy that attack the
legitimacy of sacred images within the life of the Church. Most of these, how
ever, do not appear to be authentic or even as early as the fourth century6,
though there is a passage in the letter by Epiphanius to bishop John of
Jerusalem which mentions that during one of his journeys in Palestine Epipha
nius tore down a curtain with a representation of a human being in a village
church. His motives are not revealed clearly in the letter, and the reference
does not give sufficient grounds to attribute to Epiphanius a thorough icono
clastic theology. The Testament differs significantly from the rest of these
iconoclastic texts both in its content and in the external evidence for its early
existence. As for the external evidence, the Testament not only does not
emerge until the eighth century among the iconoclastic fragments attributed to
Epiphanius7, but the earlier Vita Epiphanii also appears to know it, as we shall
see. The early dating of the fragment is supported by the fact that it denotes
martyr shrines with such an archaic expression as £v xoXq Koiur|rnpiou; xcov
hyiatw, 'cemetery of the saints'. As for the content, in the Testament we do not
find either the charge of idolatry or any of the arguments against images
advanced in the Iconoclastic Controversy and repeated in the other fragments
attributed to Epiphanius. Instead, in the Testament the author opposes the use
of images on very different grounds. He writes,
6 See my '"Origenist Christology" and Iconoclasm: The Case of Epiphanius of Salamis', in

Christus bei den Vdtern: Forscher aus dem Osten und Westen Europas an den Quellen des
gemeinsamen Glaubens, ed. Ysabel de Andia and Peter Leander Hofrichter (Innsbruck-Wien:
Tyrolia, 2003), 96-1 10 with note 44 on earlier scholarly literature.
7 The Testament is the only writing attributed to Epiphanius that was undoubtedly quoted at
the iconoclastic Council of Hiereia (Mansi XIII, 292CD.), and seems to have been mentioned
already by St. John Damascene, thus Georg Ostrogorsky, while rejecting the rest of the frag
ments, considered it to be authentic, 'Die pseudo-epiphanischen Schriften gegen die
Bilderverehrung als Bindeglied zwischen den ikonoklastischen Synoden von 754 und 815', in
Ostrogorsky, Studien zur Geschichte des byzantinischen Bilderstreites (Breslau: M. & H. Mar
cus, 1929; reprint, Amsterdam: Adolf M. Hakkert, 1964), 109-11.
Epiphanius of Salamis as a Monastic Author? 75
... remember always, my beloved children, that you should not dedicate images in
churches or cemeteries of the saints, but rather keep always God in your heart by
means of your memory. And not even in common buildings (oikov koiv6v): it is not
permitted for Christians to be distracted through the eyes (uexecopi£eaGai &Y
6epGaA,n6Vv) or by the roaming of the mind (£>enBaancp xoC vooc,), but the things per
taining to God should rather be written and printed in you all8.
The argument here, as it stands, is much more in the manner of St Bernard of
Clairvaux than of the Emperors Leo III or Constantine V. We shall analyse
more precisely the sense of these lines later.
An independent source, the Vita Epiphanii, a text that was composed
before the seventh century9, describes in detail the oral testament of Epipha
nius10. He begins with a reference to Jesus' last sermon before his arrest: 'If
you love me, you will obey my commandments' (John 14:15). Then he
recounts that after once being tortured by demons, he has never seen any
again in all his life, but only heretics: the Simon ians in Phoenicia, the Gnos
tics in Syria, the Valentinians in Cyprus, and 'the rest of the heresies'. He
then prescribes a number of ethical principles : do not desire money, do not
hate any person11, do not say a bad word about anybody, do not listen to
heresies (here he refers to the Panarion), and refrain from the pleasures of
the world that excite the body and your thoughts (A,oyiauoi); instead, 'let
your mind be all watchful and keep the memory of God\ Finally, the Vita
informs us, Epiphanius added a few 'similar points'. Now, in the clause just
quoted, it is very tempting to recognize a phrase of our fragment of the Tes
tament. Furthermore, the spiritual context - obviously monastic12 - seems to
be essentially in conformity with that of the Testament. Thus, the author of
the Vita must have been familiar with a text preserved as a Testament of
Epiphanius and we have good reasons to suppose that it was identical with
the source of our fragments.
As to the original wording of the Testament, although the odd syntax of the
fragment may indicate a cut-and-paste type of intervention, it seems to be
more likely to represent the original text, while the hagiographer has passed
over in silence the issue of images, in the same way that in the account in the
8 Hans Georg Thiimmel, Die Fruhgeschichte der ostkirchlichen Bilderlehre, Texte und Unter-
suchungen zur Zeit vor dem Bildestreit, TU 139 (Berlin: Akademie, 1992), § 38, lines 3-7.
9 See Claudia Rapp, 'The Vita of Epiphanius of Salamis', An Historical and Literary Study,
(D.Phil. Thesis, University of Oxford), Faculty of Modern History (Oxford, 1991), vol 1,94-102;
cf. vol 2, Appendix, 34-35; vol. 2, Appendix, 30. 1 am grateful to Kate Leeming for drawing my
attention to this dissertation.
10 Cc. 1 19-120.
11 Both aspects are over and again highlighted in the Life of the saint.
12 See the address 'brothers', c. 63 Dindorf; cf. Rapp, 99. In the Testament the addressees are
termed simply 'Christians' as in the Macarian Homilies, which are obviously meant for a monas
tic audience: e.g., Ser Nov 4.3, line 18 Klostermann and Berthold (TU 72 (1961)).
76 I. M. BugAr
Vita of Epiphanius' Letter to John of Jerusalem, the iconoclastic episode is

missing and some important details of the Origenist Controversy are also elim
inated from the narrative.
A better clue as to the original context and intention of the text can be
reached by a closer study of its content. Elizabeth Clark has noted that the
fragment seems to propagate the Evagrian programme of non-iconic contem
plation, which she finds extraordinary in view of Epiphanius' uncompromising
anti-Origenist theology13. Let us now consider in detail the relationship of
these lines to the thought of Evagrius.
Although the heart-imagery (of biblical inspiration) that is used in the frag
ment is not characteristic of Evagrius, in whose terminology the intellect
(vou<;) of Greek Philosophy prominently plays the corresponding role, the
heart also has its place in his system. Out of numerous passages14 the follow
ing is probably the most revealing:
Perceptions of beauties of the world widen the heart,
but reasons of providence and judgement lift it up,
Knowledge of incorporeal realities raises the mind,
and presents it before the Holy Trinity15.
This passage distinguishes between the levels of Evagrian 'physics' and 'the
ology', and the heart performs its function at the former stage in the ascent of
the person to God by recognizing in the world God's plan and judgement. In
the Gnosticus Evagrius recalls also the words of the 'great and gnostic teacher
Didymus' that it is in our memory that we should try to keep the matters of
providence and judgement.16 Thus the concepts used by the Testament 'the
things pertaining to God', 'heart', and 'memory' - play their role at the 'phys
ical' level of spiritual ascent. The same is true about the term translated as 'be
distracted': elsewhere Evagrius admonished that
13 Elizabeth A. Clark, The Origenist Controversy: The Cultural Construction of an Early

Christian Debate, (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1992), 104.
14 Marcus Plested in an unpublished paper 'Evagrian and Macarian Currents of Spirituality
within the Eastern Christian Tradition' (Eastern Christian Studies Seminar, University of
Oxford, 25 October 1995), to which I am indebted in many ways, referred to Kephalaia
Gnostica 6.87 (PO 28 I 254-5): one Syriac version has 'the nous is - according to the words
of Solomon - in the heart', the other version has '... with the heart'); Ad Monachos 24, 27, 31,
36-7, 45, 58-9, 60, 62, 66, 94, 100, 117, 131, and 135-6, ed. GreBmann, which I shall discuss
below. One could certainly continue this list, e.g. with a place where he again seems to use
mind and heart interchangeably: Practicus 47, lines 5-7 Guillaumont and Guillaumont (SC 171
(1971)).
15 Ad Monachos 135-6; I have adapted Marcus Plested's translation.
16 Gnosticus 48, line 2 Guillaumont and Guillaumont (SC 356 (1989)). "Memory", again, is
a technical word in monastic spiritual doctrine: see Mary Carruthers, The Craft of Thought:
Meditaton, rhetoric, and the making of images 400-1200 (Cambridge: University Press, 1998):
2-3 and passim. I am indebted to Prof. Jostein Bonnes for this reference.
you should not utter a word in the church of the Lord

nor divert your eyes (uexecopioT|<; xobq 6cpGaXuou<;)
for the Lord knows your heart
and observes all your thoughts17.
It is not very difficult to recognize the message of the Testament in these
lines.
Now there is one more term in the fragment that needs to be analysed: the
one I have translated as 'roaming of the mind'. By introducing the concept of
vou<; the text seems to move unexpectedly to the upmost Evagrian level, that
of theology, where the ascent can be still hindered by the undisciplined moves
of the mind even after excluding sensual images. The noun translated in this
expression as 'roaming' is a very technical word in Greek. Its rare occurrence
definitely marks out a monastic domain. Out of the few instances18 more than
half occur in the Macarian corpus, where the oddness of the word can be illus
trated by the fact that it is glossed in some manuscripts19.
The development of the meaning can be easily traced. The word occurs
once in the Septuagint: 'straying desire corrupts the integrity of the mind'20.
The twofold technical usage of the term in ascetic literature sprang from
this verse. St John Damascene understands the biblical verse as referring to
fornication committed by the eyes21. It is in this sense that the term is
applied by Amphilochius of Iconium, the Constitutiones Asceticae transmit
ted under the name of Basil the Great22, and probably this sense is implied
also by St Epiphanius when he quotes the biblical passage twice in the
Panarion23.
All the other occurrences are connected with prayer and contemplation: the
term denotes what happens when prayer is disturbed by our attending to the
outer world. It is in this context that it is used in the Macarian Homilies and
17 Ad virginem, 33: ed. Hugo GreBmann.

18 The verbal form is still more unusual; the TLG word index recognises only three instances
as opposed to the 22 occurrences of the noun form.
19 Macarios/Symeon, Rede und Briefe, ed. M. Berthold, 2vols, GCS (1973) [henceforth Ser.
B] 15.2.2, line 12: £euBaauoii; Koi nepianaafioTg; cf. M. Kroeger, ed., Die 50 geistlichen Hom-
Men des Makarios, PTS 4, (1964) [henceforth Spir.] 9, line 132. Similarly with the verbal form
Ser. B, 49.1.5, 6-7: penBecrOai xai i£,anAovaGai, compared with Spir. 4, 51-2; here, however,
the strange transitive usage of the verb provokes the gloss.
20 Wisd. 4:12.
21 Sacra Parallela (PG 95, 1557, 3), cf. Mt 5:27-28.
22 Ps-Basil, Constitutiones Asceticae, c. 19. PG 31, 1389, 22; Amphilochius of Iconium, Ora-
tio 4: In mulierem peccatricem, ed. C. Datema CCSG 3 (1978), 1. 367.
23 Panarion 65.1.2 (III, 2, 19 Holl); 67.4.7 (III, 137, 14 Holl). In the first instance the mean
ing of the word is indefinite: it plainly describes the bad morals of Paul of Samosata. In the sec
ond example it emphasises against the Hieracitae that children can be holy, since their mind is
incorrupt. The Patristic Greek Lexicon adduces a further example in this sense: Gregory of Agri-
gentum (f592) uses the word to describe the restless youth: Explanations supra Ecclesiastem
(PG 98, 741).
78 I. M. BugAr
twice in the Greek Historia Monachorum24. The logical subject of the 'roam
ing' is usually the mind (voC<;)25 or the thoughts (Xoyirjuoi)26, and only once
the heart27. The meaning is best illustrated by a passage of Didymus the Blind,
the spiritual master of Evagrius:
The prayer of the just man (Job) was pure, that is to say, unmingled with any passion,
not suffering distractions of roaming and not dispersed by any concerns28.
The Patristic Greek Lexicon provides us with a further four monastic authors
who apply the term in this sense29, but neither Lampe nor the TLG database
locate the term in the surviving Greek texts of Evagrius, and I am also aware
only of one occurrence, where Evagrius quotes the passage from the Septu-
agint, but with a small change that may indicate a technical usage30. The Syr-
iac text of the Kephalaia Gnostica may also imply that the term was familiar
to Evagrius31.
Thus the Testament makes sense only against the background of a monastic
spiritual theory and terminology present in the Macarian Homilies and in Eva
grius. However, the two Evagrian levels of physics and theology appear in the
Testament blended, and the author warns his audience against physical images
alone as opposed to all mental images castigated by Evagrius.
24 Both occurrences are in the first life, that of John of Lycopolis, I, lines 141, 137 ed. Fes-
tugiere. As we may expect, the expressions are in the context of the distraction of the mind by
thoughts during prayer.
25 Macarius, Spir. 9, 120 (= Ser. B 15.2.2, 12); E. Klostermann, ed., Neue Homilien des
MakarioslSymeon, TU 72 (1961) [henceforth Ser. Nov.] 4.3, 17; Epistula Magna in Werner
Jaeger, Two Discovered Works ofAncient Christian Literature (Leiden: Brill, 1954), 273,10; see
also next note.
26 Ser. B 29.1.10, 5; Spir. 9, 62; 32, 133 (connected with the mind); Ser. Nov. 13.4, 2 (in a
question used as hen dia duoin about [distracting] thoughts: in the answer f>eul$ou is used and
connected both with the mind [genitivus obiectivus] and the thoughts [geitivus subiectivus]);
Epistula Magna 272, 16; 273, 6. In one homily the noun is connected with the soul, but is imme
diately explained to be understood as referring to the thoughts: Spir. 4, 51; 80 (= Ser. B 49.1.5,
6; 9,3) explained by the instance referred to in the next note (cf. also 9,62).
27 Spir. 4, 51-2 (= Ser. B 49.1.5, 6-7).
28 Fragmenta in Job (ex catenis) (PG 39, 1153, 33) (in Job 16,18).
29 Nilus of Ancyra, ad Magnam de voluntaria paupertate 61. PG 79, 1052A; Mark the
Eremite, Opuscula 7,6. PG 65.1080A; St Maximus Confessor, Opuscula PG 91.25C; John VI of
Jerusalem, Vita lohanni Damasceni 35. PG 94.484A.
30 'Straying desire should not conquer your determination; for roaming coupled with desire
corrupts the integrity of the mind' (Wisd. 4:12): Rerum monachalium rationes, earumque iuxta
quietem appositio (PG 40, 1257CD). (The text of Migne is obviously corrupt; instead of
fieuBoui; one should either read f>euBou-which makes little sense-or f>euBo<;, an adjective with
two endings, which I suggest.
31 In Kephalaia Gnostica 3. 39 sgisuta can render fieuBaauov, since it translates {>e\iRaa\i6c,
in Sap 4, 12 in the Peshitta text, and SgUuta d'haund (Moses-bar-Kepha, Homilia 92) obviously
corresponds to the Greek phrase f>euBaauo<; voo<;; similarly, the verbal form of SgaiS may repre
sent ^>euBd^co in Kephalaia Gnostica 5,27 (S2). However, these Syriac words are far not as rare
as their Greek equivalent.
How, then, can we explain the fact that our analysis connects Epiphanius with
spiritual trends that he fought against all his career32, and which in their turn are
often also opposed to one another? As for the latter problem, several authors
have observed that the opposition of the two movements has been overstated33.
The impact of Origenist doctrines and expressions on the Macarian Homilies is
especially striking. Besides the fact that they show familiarity with the Platonic
voC<; terminology34, there are hints in them of a double creation theory35, and
(most significantly for our purpose) the author teaches a doctrine of non-iconic
prayer which is free, at least, of any material image36. A good analogy could be
the case of the Coptic Pachomian literature, which again contains the term
penBaauo<; in transliteration37. Although the later Greek Pachomian material is
strongly opposed to Origenism, this tendency is missing from the earlier Coptic
material, thus the term itself may also indicate that different monastic move
ments had more in common than what could be supposed at first sight.
We may thus assume that the terminology and teaching echoed in the Tes-
tamentum was a common tradition of early monasticism of Egyptian origin.
Although the use of both 'roaming' and 'distraction'38 originate in a biblical
32 He denoted Origenism as the most dangerous of all heresies (Panarion 64. 4.) and his
opposition against him rouse to a peak at the and of his life. He was also the first to condemn the
Messalian movement, the influence of which is felt in the Macarian Homilies: Panarion 80.
33 See Marcus Plested, 'Macarius and Diadochus: An Essay in Comparison,' SP 30 (1997),
235-40 and below n. 36.
34 Plested, 'Macarius and Diadochus', 239.
35 Ser. Nov. 26,7,2. I should draw the attention also to the reoccurring expression of the Homi
lies: xixcov xou acnumo<; (e.g. in Spir. 4, 55; 66-7; 73-4 in a passage where peuBaano<; occurs 4
times.) The phrase refers to Origen's interpretation of the leather tunics that God prepared for the
first couple after the Fall, referring to the creation of the body. Ever since the Ancoratus (62;
Panarion 64.6-9, Ep. loh, c. 5.) this point was one of the three main targets of Epiphanius' criticism
of Origen. (The Constitutiones Asceticae - a text attesting the use of peuBaauo<; - again is held to
be under Messalian influence. Amphilochius, though not influenced by them, must have been well
acquainted with Messalian teachings, since in 383 in Side he presided over a Synod condemning
their views, and composed a tract against them [Contra haereticos]. He is an example of how one
can borrow the term without being influenced by the views; however, his usage is on the technical
level far from the highly specific application of the term in the Testament.)
36 On the basis of Macarius' teaching that man as a result of Fall has lost the image, Jon
Dechow associates the Homilies with Macarius of Scetis, to whom it was attributed by the Greek
tradition, and who was connected to Origenist monastic circles: Dechow, Dogma and Mysticism,
308. Another possible connection of the Messalians and the Origenist monastic tradition could be
the person of Adelphius, one of the fathers of the Messalian movement who is reported by
Philoxenus of Mabbug to have been the disciple of Anthony. S. Rubenson criticises Columba
Stewart for rejecting this evidence on insufficient grounds in his monograph on the Messalians:
Rubenson, 'The Egyptian Relations', 40 with n. 22.
37 S. Pachomii Vita Bohairicae scripta, ed. Lefort, CSCO 89 (1925), vol I, 132.
38 For uxxecopio-uo<; see Sir. 23:4b-5; cf. also 26,9. Elsewhere the word is used in the sense
ofarrogance': 2Mac5:21; and the verbal form in Luke 12:29 meaning probably 'to search the
sky in anxiety'. The rest of the occurrences in the Septuagint are irrelevant. A separate chapter
is dedicated to the concept in Basil's Asceticon magnum (regulae brevius tractatae), PG 31,
1097.
80 I. M. BUGAR
passage, the words (rare in the Scripture) could gain a technical meaning only
through such conscientious thinkers as Evagrius or Macarius/Symeon39. The
close connection of the term £>epBaauo<; with the notion of non-iconic prayer
especially highlights these names. The joint technical usage of the two terms
is well indicated by a later text, whose author, Isaiah of Gaza/Scetis (fifth
century), is indebted to both Evagrius and Macarius40. He already uses the
terms without any further explication, as obviously familiar to his audience:
'woe to us, because roaming, distraction, and forgetfulness remove the fear
of God from our hearts'.41 His wording is highly reminiscent of that of the
Testament.
Now let us turn to the possible connection of Epiphanius to these monastic
traditions. We may infer from information about Epiphanius' monastic forma
tion that he had been influenced by monastic circles that were indebted to Ori-
gen. He had been a close disciple of Hilarion,42 who in turn was closely
attached to St Anthony the Great43. Now Anthony's letters contain a great deal
of Origenian intellectualism44, and many of his disciples professed doctrines
connected with the name of Origen45, most remarkably Didymus the Blind46.
St. Hilarion may have transmitted some teaching common to Evagrius and the
Macarian homilies that did not appear to have anything to do directly with
Origen.
39 For Hexecopian6<; see Macarius/Symeon, Ser. B 2 1.2, 2, and Evagrius Ad virginem 33

(verbal form, quoted at p. 77 above).
40 See D. J. Chitty, 'Abba Isaiah', JThSt n.s. 22 (1971), 47-72.
41 Homilia 29.6; cf. Abba Isaiah of Scetis, Ascetic Discourses, tr. intr. and notes by John
Chrysavgis and Pachomios Robert Penkett, CS 150 (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 2002):
241.
42 Sozomen, HE 6.32.1-6; Jerome, Vita Hilarionis 1, cf. Stephan Schiwietz, Das morgen-
landische Monchtum, vol. 2 Das Monchtum auf Sinai una' in Paldstina im vierten Jahrhundert,
118; 126-31 (Mainz: Kirchheim, 1913).
43 Jerome, Vita Hilarionis 3; cf. Apophthegmata alph. 425 (Hilary 1). Although Rubenson
notes that Jerome probably consciously diminishes any implication of strong dependence of
Palestinian monasticism on Egypt, he does not attribute great importance to this connection. He
seems to refer only to the second visit of Hilary to Egypt (Vita Hilarionis 30-32) and even
expresses some general doubts concerning the historicity of Hilary's person: 'The Egyptian Rela
tions', 37-8 with n. 11.
44 Samuel Rubenson, The Letters of Anthony: Monasticism and the Making of a Saint, Stud
ies in Antiquity and Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), 62-71, esp. 65-8 (the doc
trine of the fall of the intellect caused by disorderly motion and matter as the "power of the
devil") and 69-71 (the doctrine of the return of the intellect to is original simplicity). Cf. id.,
'Origen in the Egyptian Monastic Tradition of the Fourth Century', in Origeniana Septima: Ori-
genes in den Auseinandersatzungen des 4. Jahrhunderts ed. Wolfgang A. Bienert and U. Kuh-
neweg, Bibliotheca Ephemeridum theologicarum Lovaniensium 137 (Leuven: Peeters, 1999),
322-6.
45 Rubenson, The Letters, 180-3; id., 'Origen', 326-33.
46 Palladius, Historia Lausiaca 47,2.
Like many contemporary monastic founders - for example, Basil the Great
- Epiphanius visited the monks in Egypt47. He may have met with the problem
of Origenism there, but the Origenism which he attacked was not its specific
Evagrian form. Clark detects a change in Epiphanius' charges against Ori
genism from the Panarion to the Letter to John and shows that Epiphanius
became increasingly aware of this special desert form of Origenism48. How
ever, no matter whether he was to some extent familiar with the Evagrian form
of Origenism - and condemned it - or was entirely unaware of the phenome
non, it is highly unlikely that he was influenced by Evagrius49. Nonetheless, as
we have seen, the Testament does not go beyond the Macarian Homilies in the
teaching about imageless contemplation. It may be the common Egyptian her
itage that connects Evagrius, the Macarian Homilies, and the Testament.
Certainly, this is all mere speculation. Moreover, a spirituality that concen
trates on the illumination of the mind must have been alien to Epiphanius, who
over and again emphasized that soul and body belong together, both as the
image of God50 and in their eschatological state51. Thus Epiphanius' relation
ship to the Testament remains problematic.
At any rate, our text appears to come from a Palestinian monastic milieu52.
If the document is not by Epiphanius, we might not have learnt more about
him, but still have gained an insight from a special point of view into the com
plex relations of fourth-century spiritual movements.
47 Sozomen, HE 6.32; Epiphanius, Panarion 26.17.4-9. (I, 297, 15 - 8, 18 Hall; Vita

Epiphanii c. 26-30 (Dindorf), cf. Rapp, 16-7.
48 His charge against those blaspheming the goodness of procreation appears first in his Let
ter to John of Jerusalem: Clark, 94-102. The idea off the loss of the image of God in the Fall is
also characteristic of Evagrius rather than of Origen.
49 One of our texts containing the above discussed shibboleth, the Historia Monachorum
relates a pilgrimage to the Egyptian desert undertook in 394 and related to the community of
Rufinus, the leader of the party opposed to Epiphanius.
50 See my 'Origenist Christology and Iconoclasm,' 106.
51 Panarion 64,70. II 515,24-517,12 Holl.
52 There is an other writing, transmitted under the name of Epiphanius, the Homilia in divini
corporis sepulturam, Istvan Perczel suspects that it stems from the circle of Dionysius the "Are-
opagite." It is full of hapax legomena compounds; contains the elaborate list of angelic orders
(PG 43,449,39sqq. 456,52sqq), as well as references to the nude man and God and the leather
tunics (p.464); I wonder whether the homily comes from a similar Palestinian monastic environ
ment with a high respect for the great monastic founder Epiphanius.
Imagining Thecla: Rhetorical Strategies in Severus of
Antioch's 97th Cathedral Homily
Catherine Burris, Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Delivered on the feast-day of Saint Thecla between 512 and 518, Severus'
97th Cathedral Homily strikes an uneasy balance between offering homage to
a much-loved saint and reining in understandings of, and responses to, that
saint1. This episcopal caution with regard to Thecla will not surprise those who
have looked at Greek and Latin receptions of the saint2. However, it is impor
tant to note that this is by far the most explicit witness to any of what we pre
sume was a range of Syriac receptions of Thecla, and the only strong witness
to any caution on her account in the Syriac tradition3.
The homily is unsuccessful as a panegyric on Thecla; Severus seems intent
on another set of goals entirely. Moreover, those goals do not always seem
compatible with each other. After offering a brief summary of the text, I will
argue that its peculiarities become intelligible when we correctly identify
Severus' imagined audience.
1 Severus, an anti-Chalcedonian, was patriarch of Antioch from 512 to 518. His homilies
were delivered in Greek, but were translated into Syriac in the middle of the sixth century. The
translation was revised, with notes referring to the earlier translation(s), by Jacob of Edessa
(d.708). The edition used for this paper is drawn from that later translation, preserved in MS Vat.
Syr. 141, which cannot be later than 832/3. (Briere, Patrologia Orientalis 25/1 ; Paris, 1943.) For
a summary of the manuscript tradition, including the surviving Greek fragments, see Lucas Van
Rompay, 'Les versions syriaques', in Francoise Petit, La Chaine sur l'Exode, I, Fragments de
Severe d'Antioche, Traditio Exegetica Graeca (Leuven: Peeters, 1999), pp. 111-31. This essay
also includes a discussion of Jacob of Edessa's translation technique, as well as further references
on the subject.
2 See, inter alia, Steven J. Davis, The Cult of Saint Thecla: A Tradition of Women's Piety in
Late Antiquity, Oxford Early Christian Studies (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001);
Dennis Ronald MacDonald, The Legend and the Apostle. The Battle for Paul in Story and Canon
(Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983); L. Hague, 'Thecla and the Church Fathers', VC 48
(1994), 209-18; and Monika Pesthy, 'Thecla among the Fathers of the Church', in Jan N. Brem-
mer (ed.), The Apocryphal Acts ofPaul and Thecla, Studies on the Apocryphal Acts of the Apos
tles 2 (Kampen: Kok Pharos Publishing House, 1996), pp. 164-78.
3 For a survey of the available evidence, see Catherine Burris and Lucas Van Rompay, "The
cla in Syriac Christianity: Preliminary Observations', Hugoye 5/2 (2002), available at Hugoye/
vol5No2/HV5N2BurrisVan Rompay.html; and 'Further Notes on Thecla in Syriac Christianity',
Hugoye 6/2 (2003), available at Hugoye/vol6No2/HV6N2BurrisVanRompay.html.
84 C. Burris
Severus begins his homily4 on Thecla by speaking of David, who was

speaking prophetically of the church when he said, 'The queen stands at your
right, clothed in a robe of gold and offering a varied aspect'5. This immedi
ately brings Thecla to mind, as she gives, by her deeds, a reading of the
prophecy. She is like the church, which, taken as a whole, has these same
virtues. The assembly of believers forms Christ's body, fashioned by baptism
and apostolic edicts into a glorious whole. Paul, speaking of the holy and
immaculate church, purified by baptism in order that Christ might present it to
himself6, was confirming this prophecy of David's (i-ii).
David and Paul are speaking not just of the church, but of the swift zeal of
the church in matters of faith. The assembly of those who, hearing the word,
followed7, stands like a queen, close beside Christ the king8 and enters with
him into the bedchamber as a spouse. This is what the Song of Songs9 refers
to, expanding further on David's prophetic words. The church wears an assem
blage of virtues like the robes of a queen10 and is beautiful in its perfect agree
ment. This is what David meant when he spoke1 1 of the bride who listens and
leaves her father and her home, forgetting her people to go to the king (iii-v).
But, Severus says, someone will ask, 'Why are you talking about the church
and not Thecla? Have you forgotten why you're here?' But it is only exces
sive devotion to Thecla that prevents his imagined interlocutor from seeing
that Thecla was prefigured in the prophecies that refer to the church (vi).
He explains: when Thecla heard Paul's preaching, she immediately enacted
the image of the church as predicted by David; she listened, she forgot her
family, and she became dear to the king, standing close, at his right hand,
assuming the robes of virtue and showing her changed nature12 (vii-xii).
But then his imagined interlocutor poses another question: how is Thecla
inferior to the church, which Severus now calls 'the maternal image'? She
does, after all, fulfil these prophecies, just as the church does. Again, the
prophetic words of David enlighten us : 'The virgins will follow the king after
her; the maidens will follow you, they will follow in joy and rejoicing, they
will go to the temple of the king'13. The words 'after her' indicate the subor
4 Briere's edition divides the text into paragraphs; I have numbered those paragraphs. In what
follows, I have indicated the corresponding paragraph numbers at the end of each paragraph of
my summary.
5 Referring to Psalm 45:9 (44:10). I have included Briere's notes indicating each Scriptural
citation, even where I do not quote the citation.
6 Ephesians 5:23-27.
7 Matthew 4:19, 9:9.
8 Psalm 45:9 (44:10).
9 Song of Solomon 1:3, 5:2.
10 Psalm 45: 13 (44:10).
11 Psalm 45:10-11 (44:11).
12 2 Timothy 2:9; Matthew 16:18.
13 Psalm 45:14-15 (44:15-16), 63:8(62:9); 65:4(64:5-6).
Rhetorical Strategies in Severus of Antioch's 97th Cathedral Homily 85
dination of virgins to the queen, of daughters to mothers, of Thecla to the

church (xiii-xiv).
Severus then returns to the narration of Thecla's deeds. Having endured the
flames, she cut her hair in order to damage her beauty, so that her outward
appearance agreed with her virile spirit. She became Paul's disciple, preaching
as he did. Yes, Severus says, Paul told us that women should not teach, and
another rule of the church says that women should not cut their hair or wear
men's clothing14. Thecla was special in that she had the actual strength before
she had the outward appearance. Other women, the ones who prompted the
legislation, had the outward appearance of strength but not the reality, and this
lent itself to ridicule and shame. And now, after the ban, even those women
who attempt to rival Thecla are not permitted to do these things, because it is
necessary to submit to custom, as it says in scripture, 'Do not displace the cus
toms which were given to our fathers'15 (xv-xvi).
Thecla came to Antioch with the appearance and firm resolve of a man.
Even she was unable to hide her nature; she was attacked because of her
beauty and her religion. She stood firm, and was sent to the arena to face the
beasts. When she was victorious, the Jews pondered how a mere female had
not only survived the fire like the three young men who passed through the
flames without burning, but had also surpassed even Daniel16, surviving not
just lions, but 'the whole race of savage beasts.' Because of this, they believed
in Christ (xvii-xxi).
Thecla emerged from her trials without injury, having fought as a martyr
and having received the martyr's crown17, and then she left for Seleucia in
Isauria, where her body remains and miracles occur, while her soul made the
journey to its heavenly home. And it is from there that she watches and visits
on the one hand the city of Seleucia, because of her body, and on the other
hand Antioch, because of her struggles here (xxii-xxiii).
This is why we praise her, Severus says, here in this place dedicated to Saint
Stephen and to her. He is the first male martyr, and she is the first female mar
tyr. She fulfilled Paul's command to 'Glorify God in your body and in your
spirit'18, glorifying God by both her virginity and her martyrdom (xxiv).
So, Severus concludes, virgins have a role model in Thecla, but so do mar
ried women. They can live an honest and chaste life, thus glorifying Christ and
in return being glorified by him19 (xxv).
14 1 Corinthians 14:34.
15 Deuteronomy 19:14.
16 Severus also compares Daniel and Thecla in homilies 71 and 75 (ed. Briere, PO 12/1
(Paris, 1915)). For further discussion of this pairing, see Burns and Van Rompay, 'Thecla in Syr-
iac Christianity'.
17 Isaiah 32:9; Matthew 13:46; 2 Corinthians 5:17; 2 Timothy 4:7.
18 1 Corinthians 6:20.
19 1 Kings 2:30.
86 C. Burris
And there the homily ends. The question is, what are we to make of it? He
has not made a case for his conclusion about Thecla and married women, and
in fact the assertion is somewhat jarring after what has preceded it. I suggest
that this is because presenting Thecla as a role model for all women is not the
point here. Rather, the homily is aimed squarely at a group, whether real or
imagined, of insistently, visibly, and vocally devout women in Severus'
church.
In his extended discussion of the church at the beginning of the homily,
Severus repeatedly refers to the assembled church, to the believers who,
together, form the church. He emphasizes the necessary universality of the
church, asserting that the church is not, and should not be, composed of only
one sort of person - of, for instance, women who attempt to live as Thecla did.
Moreover, what makes the church glorious is its harmonious unity; those peo
ple in the church who disrupt that unity are wrong to do so.
Those same people are wrong when they refuse - as he says, out of exces
sive devotion to Thecla - to see that she is an image of the church, admittedly
a good image, but only modelled on the perfect original. She is, he feels com
pelled to assert, not of equal stature with the church itself. This may be in
response to some notion that one could, even should, follow the example of
Thecla rather than the teaching of the church, in the person of the bishop.
These disruptive and disobedient people are almost certainly women, since
he then discusses the women who attempt to imitate Thecla. These women are,
despite Thecla's example, not permitted to teach, or to take on the appearance
of a male. They do not have Thecla's strength, and the custom of the church
forbids it. More importantly, a woman acting as a man can only be a pretence,
one which cannot succeed. Even Thecla, with her manly resolve, her inner
strength, could not hide her true, feminine, nature. If the blessed martyr has
failed in this attempt, how then can any woman succeed?
In fact, the failure of Thecla's ruse was a good thing: she won the crown of
a martyr, and the Jews who witnessed her trial believed. Women ought, in
Severus' view, to be seen to be, and to behave as, women. And, as women,
they are weak and sinful. We have already seen the women who tried, without
Thecla's strength, to take on her appearance and brought shame on them
selves. The only other women used in Severus' arguments are Thecla's
mother, who was hysterical over the loss of social and economic status
entailed by Thecla's refusal to marry20, and the rich women whom Isaiah fruit
lessly called to repentance. These last are set over and against Thecla and her
renunciation of her status and her family, while the male merchant who found
a single pearl of great price is, Severus tells us, the model Thecla imitated in
this episode of her story21.
20 Paragraph viii in the text.

21 Paragraph xx.
Rhetorical Strategies in Severus of Antioch's 97th Cathedral Homily 87
Thecla is successful only because she is in some sense masculine. Beyond

the references to manly resolve and virile strength, we can see this idea at its
most explicit in the example offered immediately after the merchant and his
pearl: Adam, who was created in the image of God, before he sinned was sur
rounded, like a king, by savage beasts, and he gave names to all of them like
the owner of a flock. So also Thecla, who had learned from Paul that 'if any
one is in Christ, he is a new creature', was surrounded by savage beasts, and
they were tame for her22. The implication is that Thecla has become a new
creature, a male creature.
Severus goes on to assert that his rhetorical targets have not only damaged
the church, overvalued Thecla, and ignored their own natures, but that they
have also misunderstood the relative importance of virginity in the grand
scheme of salvation. It has, in Severus' presentation, no priority over other
forms of devotion. Severus splits Thecla in two, body and soul. Both are
important, but the spirit is clearly more so than the body. Thecla's body is
buried in Seleucia, and acts as a magnet of sorts, drawing her soul back to per
form miracles. But that soul ascended to heaven, is responsible for the mira
cles at her shrine, and returns to Antioch as a victor.
Most of us will think of ascetic practices, including virginity, when we
speak of the pre-eminence of the spirit over the flesh, but this is not the way
that Severus presents it. He says that Thecla glorified God in her body by her
virginity and in her spirit by her martyrdom. Virginity, as a discipline of the
body, is a lesser virtue, and not, as Thecla's imitators would have it, the best
Christian life. True virtue is the swift and zealous obedience that he attributes
to the church, and to which he refers repeatedly throughout the homily.
The homily may end with the assertion that not only virgins, but also mar
ried women can take Thecla as a role model, but this is not the conclusion. It
is just one final jab at his opponents, asserting that they are so wrong about
their beloved Thecla that the very people who live the lives they have rejected,
married women, can imitate Thecla as effectively as any virgin.
Severus' rhetorical opponents are unruly and divisive. They choose to heed
the example of Thecla rather than the teachings of the church, valuing virgin
ity over obedience. They are, worse still, women who attempt to act as men,
taking on themselves authority which they cannot and should not wield.
Whether there was, in fact, a group of women in sixth-century Antioch
devoted to Thecla is not yet clear. At the very least, this homily indicates a
need to reiterate the 'proper' relationship between gender and authority, and
suggests that there were those whose actions had brought that relationship into
question.
22 Paragraph xxi.
Was Marinus' Life of Proclus a Reply to
Dionysius the Areopagite?
Henry Chadwtck, Oxford
In the 1 890s Adolf von Harnack persuaded the Berlin Academy, including a
hesitant Wilamowitz not confident of Harnack's mastery of Greek, to launch
their great series of critical editions of early Christian writers. At successive
patristic conferences we have been able to greet new critical editions. Last
time, four years ago, we could welcome the new edition of Cyprian's letters,
replacing Hartel. This time we have news of the Vienna Academy's work on
Augustine, Enarrationes in Psalmos, and the new edition by Professor Ritter
and Dr Suchla of Dionysius the Areopagite in two volumes: when one con
templates the immense number of manuscripts, the labour must have been a
nightmare or Alptraum.
Marinus' biography of Proclus the Diadochus or Successor of Plato, presiding
over the Academy in Athens, is a text lately translated into English with many
learned notes by Dr Mark Edwards for the Liverpool series Translated Texts for
Historians, 2003. A striking feature of the Life's portrait is the repeated stress on
the devotion of Proclus to pagan gods and their worship. He was especially
devoted to Athena. This love of the old religion is very apparent in Proclus'
commentaries on Plato's Parmenides and Timaeus, in his eyes the most impor
tant of the Platonic corpus1. When expounding the Parmenides, most difficult
and obscure of Platonic dialogues and for the Neoplatonists the crucial text on
the nature of things and the relationship of the one and the many, he begins by a
solemn invocation of all the gods and goddesses to help him in his problematic
task. Damascius tells us in the history of philosophy lately re-edited by Profes
sor Polymnia Athanassiadi (p. 238), replacing the edition by Zintzen, how
incomprehensible Marinus found Proclus' commentary on the Parmenides.
1 Damascius' history of philosophers is specially interested in the tension between Christians

and the Neoplatonist philosophers. In Proclus' commentaries on Plato there are passages easily
read as hostile to the Christians. He would say that the philosophers were overwhelmed by the
torrential flood of Christianity. The murder of Hypatia was not soon forgotten, Marinus' life of
Proclus, chapter 15, is emphatic that Proclus did not have a comfortable time from the Christians,
like 'huge birds of prey and Typhonian hurricanes'. In the Timaeus commentary (iii 44 Diehl)
they mistake monotheism to require a slighting of the daimones, or the local deities of polythe
ism. They overthrow the divine customs (in Parm. IV, p. 954 Cousin). These and two other texts
are gathered by H.D. Saffrey in an important article, 'Allusions anti-chretiennes chez Proclus' in
Revue des sciences philosophiques et theologiques 57 (1975), 553-663.
90 H. Chadwick
Since the papers of two learned Germans, Hugo Koch and Josef Stiglmayr,
in the 1980s, it is now universally acknowledged that the author who adopted
the name of St Paul's convert at Athens made much use of Neoplatonic texts
current late in the fifth century, especially the expositions of Platonic theology
by Proclus, which we have in two distinct forms, the beginners' introduction,
brilliantly edited by E.R. Dodds (Oxford, 1933; second edition lightly revised,
1963) and a broad synthesis of Plato's religious and philosophical teaching,
edited by Professor Saffrey of Paris and the late Professor Westerink of New
York at Buffalo in six volumes (Belles Lettres, 1968-1997).
Occasionally one meets the mistaken idea that Dionysius' use of Proclus
was so subtle and clever that it escaped notice at the time. The valuable
Lexikon on early Christian literature published by Herder in 1998 asserts that
the Areopagite's debt to Proclus was discovered in the nineteenth century, but
the debt to Proclus was familiar to Pachymeres in the fourteenth century, as
any reader of Migne, PG iii knows. In the Areopagite corpus a letter nominally
addressed to Polycarp is sufficient evidence that philosophers realised what
was being done to them. At Athens, and no doubt also at Alexandria, Neopla-
tonist philosophers did not want to concede that their labours could be rightly
used by the Christians. The Platonists saw their tradition as the rival and alter
native to Christianity. From this standpoint it would be very natural to resent
Christian exploitation of their favourite teacher at the Academy, especially
valued for his ability to present a coherent and consistent Platonism, thereby
giving the entire system the face of authority appropriate for an inspired
teacher of religion.
That the work of Dionysius was recognised at the time to owe much to Pro
clus is presupposed by the seventh letter nominally addressed to Polycarp.
There Dionysius states that a sophist named Apollophanes has complained that
his work used pagan matter to attack paganism. This is additional evidence of
the tense relationships between pagan and Christian, and we would be justified
in seeing this as yet more evidence of mutual resentment and anger.
Proclus was held in honour because of the many versatile inquiries of his
philosophy; he places Theology as the prime question in his account of Pla
tonism. If Dionysius was one of the many attending his classes, he could have
seen how close his treatment of divine transcendence was to Christian issues.
The Areopagite in the east and Boethius in the west both found Proclus partic
ularly helpful in coping with suffering which because of their Christianity they
wanted to interpret constructively.
This paper has not of course proved that the biography of Proclus is simply
a reply to Dionysius the Areopagite: we do not know in what years the two
authors were writing. But I think it clear that the work of the Areopagite
received an immediate negative reaction from the Platonic school, and that
Marinus wanted to vindicate Proclus from suggestions that Christians could
positively interpret what he had said about God and providence.
Zu De Spiritu Sancto1 von Didymus dem Blinden:
Didymus der Blinde liber den Heiligen Geist
Byoung-Ha Cho, Seoul
Unter Christen gibt es heutzutage ein groBes Interesse an Spiritualitat. Des-

wegen fragen sie nach dem Wirken (operatio) des Heiligen Geistes, durch das
sie eine tiefere Spiritualitat erlangen konnen. Aber es herrscht eine Tendenz,
die Frage nach dem Wesen des Geistes zu leicht zu nehmen. Fur das rechte
Verstandnis stellt Didymus der Blinde in seiner Schrift iiber den Heiligen
Geist ein Kriterium auf.
In Alexandrien hatte man 362 zur Beseitigung des antiochenischen Schis-
mas drei Bedingungen2 aufgestellt, von denen die dritte den Heiligen Geist
betraf: es war von den in die kirchliche Gemeinschaft Aufzunehmenden gefor-
dert, diejenigen zu verdammen, die den Geist fur ein Geschopf hielten und
sagten, er sei von der oOaia Christi getrennt (Athanasius, Tomus ad Antioche-
nos)3. Wir befinden uns in der Debatte iiber das Verhaltnis des Geistes zu
Christus und zum Vater, die 381 zu einem AbschluB kommen wird.
An diesen Auseinandersetzungen nahmen Didymus und Basileios von Caes-
area mit ihren ungefahr gleichzeitigen Schriften iiber den Heiligen Geist toil.
Basileios hat in seiner Schrift die Eunomianer von Augen4, Didymus und
Ambrosius dagegen anonyme Pneumatomachen. Erhalten ist die Arbeit des
Didymus nur durch die lateinische Ubersetzung des Hieronymus (nach 385).
Wahrend Basileios bekannlich noch zogerte, den Terminus 6uoouaio<; auf
den Heiligen Geist anzuwenden, spricht Didymus davon, daB der Heilige Geist
unius substantiae cum patre etfilio sei (vgl. §231 Doutreleau5, so in der latei-
nischen Ubersetzung seiner Schrift (vgl. auch §166! : dieselbe Natur wie Vater
und Sohn). Ambrosius, der Didymus im griechischen Original las, hat inn und
Basileios fur seine eigene Abhandlung iiber den Heiligen Geist (381) benutzr5.
1 Didyme l'Aveugle, Traite du Saint-Esprit, eU Louis Doutreleau, SC 386 (1992).

2 1. Verdammung der Arianer; 2. paulinisches Problem; 3. der Heilige Geist.
3 PG 26, 196-809.
4 Basilius von Casarea, De Spiritu Sancto; Uber den Heiligen Geist, hrsg. Hermann Josef
Sieben, Fontes Christiani 12 (Freiburg: Herder, 1993).
5 Didymus, De Spiritu Samcto, SC 386, S. 353.
6 Vgl., Byoung-Ha Cho, Trinitatslehre und Christiologie bei Ambrosius' (Diss., Tubingen,
1994), S. 46-48, 168-169.
92 B.-H. Cho
Naturlich stimme ich B. Neuschafer zu, wenn er im Lexikon der antiken

christlichen Literatur von der Ubereinstimmung des Didymus mit Athanasius
spricht. Aber wenn er sagt, 'vor allem ist Didymus an den biblisch-exegetischen
Grundlagen der Pneumatologie und Trinitatslehre interessiert (vgl. §§132-
230) '7, dann ist diese von der notwendigen Kurze eines Lexikon-Artikels
bestimmte Aussage leicht zu erweitern. Denn eigentlich wollte Didymus den
ganzen Streit auf biblisch-exegetischer und traditioneller Grundlage fiihren.
Inhaltlich hat Didymus schon einmal bis §166 alles vorgetragen, was er zu
sagen hat. Danach folgt nichts Neues mehr. Es stellt sich ihm in §167 das Pro
blem, wie man iiberhaupt von der substantia der Trinitat spechen konne. Die
menschliche Stimme konne nichts anders anzeigen als corpora, Korperliches.
Aber die Trinitat, von der er jetzt sprechen wolle, ubersteigt alle materiellen sub-
stantiae, so daB eigentlich kein wort auf si paBt und ihre Substanz anzeigen kann.
Alles, was wir iiber Unkorperliches und vor allem die Trinitat sagen, ist daher
'uneigenthch' gesagt, Kcrraxpr|cn;iKco<;. Dies ist eine grundsatzliche Aussage8.
Dagegen ist es ein topischer Ausdruck von Bescheidenheit, wenn er §272
aus seine paupertas eloquii hinweist; man solle daran seine Furcht davon
ermessen, iiberhaupt vom Heiligen Geist sprechen zu wollen. Denn selbstver-
standlich geschieht eine solche Rede im Rahmen des 'uneigentlichen' Spre-
chens iiber Unkorperliches9. Die ingenii paupertas von §174 bezieht sich auf
die Auslegung einer Passage aus dem Johannes Evangelium10.
Ein Doppelaspekt des Inhaltes der Schrift ergibt sich auch aus der Behand-
lung der substantia und der operatio des Geistes. Beides dient dem Nachweis
der Gottheit des Heiligen Geistes und der Einheit der Trinitat.
Am Anfang seiner Schrift sagt Didymus, daB man mit Ehrfurcht und groB-
ter Sorgfalt iiber Gottliches handeln miisse, besonders aber in dem, was die
Gottheit des Heiligen Geistes betrifft; er erinnert an den Satz von der Siinde
wider den Heiligen Geist, die er als Blasphemie bezeichnet (§l)n.
Der Heilige Geist hat mit Vater und Sohn gemeinsam, daB er Anteil gibt (an
seiner Heiligkeit) und nicht Anteil von anderen erhalt, sonst ware er ein
Geschopf (§19)12. Der Heilige Geist unterscheidet sich von denen, die er hei-
ligt (alius sit. . . ab his quae ipse sanctificat13, §29), er ist nicht von einer Natur
mit denen, die er heiligt. Wenn er daher in seiner eigenen essentia subsistiert,
ist er ungeschaffen, nicht gemacht. Anders als korperliche Wesen ist er nicht
ortlich begrenzt und umschrieben (§21)14.
7 B. Neuschafer, 'Didymus der Blinde', in Lexikon der christlichen Literatur, hrsg. Siegmar
Dopp und Wilhelm Geerlings, 3. Aufl. (Freiburg: Herder, 2002), S. 197-199.
8 Didymus, De Spiritu Sancto, SC 386, S. 296.
9 Ibid., S. 386.
10 Ibid., S. 302.
11 Ibid., S. 142.
12 Ibid., S. 160.
13 Ibid., S. 168.
14 Ibid., S. 162.
Zu De Spiritu Sancto von Didymus dem Blinden 93
Niemand konne so verriickt sein, sich die Taufformel ohne den Namen des
Heiligen Geistes vorzustellen, genausowenig, wie man den Namen des Vaters
oder des Sohnes weglassen konne (§101)15.
Die Grundlage der Aussagen des didymus iiber den Heiligen Geist aus dem
Alten und Neuen Testament stehen in §§3-8. Diejenigen, die auBerhalb der
heiligen Schrift 'philosophieren', kennen weder die Bezeichnung 'Heiliger
Geist' noch seine substantia (§3)16. Es ist derselbe Geist, der vor der Ankunft
des Herrn da war und dann in den Aposteln und anderen Jiingern, wie sich aus
den gottlichen Schriften erweisen laBt (§6), es ist nicht eine bloBe Namens-
gleichheit, die verschiedene Substanzen deckt (ibid.)17.
Den Propheten geschach nicht nur der Herr, das Wort (dominus verbum),
sondern auch der Heilige Geist, weil man ihn untrennbar vom Eingeborenen
Sohn Gottes besitzt (§9)18.
Die Vokabel selbst, 'Heiliger Geist', ist nicht eine leere Benennung sondern
erweist die zugrundeliegende essentia (subiacentis essentiae demonstratrix),
die Genossin (socia) von Vater und Sohn ist, vollig verschieden von den
Geschopfen, und zwar nicht nur von den sichtbaren, sondern auch von den
unsichtbaren (§10)19.
Die substantia (des Heiligen Geistes) ist die effectrix von Weisheit und Hei-
ligung. Der Heilge Geist ist unveranderlicher sanctificator, Verteiler aller guten
Gaben(§ll)20.
Das substantialiter Gute kann nicht Empfanger einer Giite (bonitas) von
auBen sein, da es ja dem ubrigen Giite zuteilt. Auch dies unterscheidet den
Heilgen Geist von den Geschopfen, korperlichen und unkorperlichen (§13)21.
Diejenigen, die die Gemeinschaft des Geistes genieBen, heiBen Teilhaber (par-
ticipes) an ihm (§14)22.
Als unwandelbarer (inconvertibilis) ist der Heilige Geist nicht den Geschop
fen &uoouai.o<; (§16)23.
In §20 spricht Didymus vom Siegel des Heiligen Geistes (nach Eph. 1,13;
4,30). Durch dies Siegel empfangt man seine Form und seine Gestalt (species).
Das deutett Didymus so: wer am Heilgen Geist teilhat, wird durch die
Gemeinschaft mit ihm geistlich (spiritualis) und heilig (sanctus)74.
Der Heilige Geist ist nicht nur den Menschen gegenwartig, die von ihm unter-
schieden sind, sondern ist auch Einwohner der Engel, Machte und Gewalten.
15 Ibid., S. 238-240.
16 Ibid., S. 144-146.
17 Ibid., S. 146.
18 Ibid., S. 150.
19 Ibid., S. 150-152.
20 Ibid., S. 152.
21 Ibid., S. 154.
22 Ibid., S. 154.
23 Ibid., S. 156.
24 Ibid., S. 160.
94 B.-H. Cho
Als Heiliger (sanctificans) der Geschopfe ist er der Substanz nache ein anderer
als sie. Derm ein Geschopf heiligt sich nicht aus seiner eigenen substantia, son-
dern aus der Heiligkeit einer anderen (§24)25. §§25 und 26 fiihren denselben
Gedanken an den Personen der Trinitat aus.
Didymus behandelt dann, immer anhand biblisher Aussagen, das Erfiilltsein
vom Heiligen Geist (§§30-38), die verschiedenen Gaben des Heiligen Geistes
(§§40-48), das AusgieBen des Heiligen Geistes (§§48-53).
Das Wort 'AusgieBen' beweist bereits die ungeschaffene substantia des
Heiligen Geistes. Nirgendwo sagt Gott von einem Engel, den er sendet, er
wolle inn 'ausgieBen'. Aus all diesem ergibt sich, daB die substantia des Hei
ligen Geistes eine ist, an der man Anteil haben kann (capabilis est); daher ist
sie ungeschaffen (§54)26. Hieronymus gibt dazu (in §55) eine Erlauterung, was
capabilis und capax bei Didymus bedeuten, ein Sprachgebrauch, der offen-
sichtlich auch ihm auffallig erscheint27. Warum teilt er uns die zugrundelie-
genden griechischen Vokabeln nicht mit?
Ein capabilis ist unveranderlich und also ewig. Fur ein capax gilt das
Umgekehrte (§56)28.
Das Hauptthema des Didymus wird in den §§74-112 behandelt:
Die Nicht-Unterschiedenheit (in-differentia), die der Heilige Geist mit Vater
und Sohn hat. Er wird ja niemals zu den Geschopfen gezahlt, sondern immer
mit Vater und Sohn zusammengestellt (cumpatre et filio positus) (§74)29. Alle
drei geben Gnade und Liebe. Die eine Gnade also des Vaters und des Sohnes,
erfiillt (completa) durch das Wirken (operatic) des Heiligen Geistes, wird die
trinitas unius substantiae erweisen (§76)30. Aus allem, was er bisher angefiihrt
hat, sagt Didymus in §81, wird bewiesen, daB Vater und Sohn und Heiliger
Geist dieselbe operatio haben. Eine operatio, eine substantia. Die 6noouaia,
die von einer substantia, haben dieselben operationes31.
Es ist klar, daB der Geist von derselben Natur ist wie Sohn und Vater, deren
Geist er ist. Ferner sind Vater und Sohn eins (unum). Also ist die Trinitat
durch Einheit der substantia vereinigt (sociatur, §86)32.
Ein anderes Beispiel aus den Schriften zeigt die Trinitat als eine von Natur
und Kraft (virtus). Das sind die Falle, wo der Sohn als Hand oder Arm oder
die Rechte Gottes bezeichnet wird. Aber auch der Heilige Geist kann Finger
Gottes heiBen. Hier sieht man wieder die Nicht-Unterschiedenheit (in-dijferen-
tia) der Natur (§87)33.
25 Ibid., S. 164.
26 Ibid., S. 194.
27 Ibid., S. 195.
28 Ebd.
29 Ibid., S. 212.
30 Ebd.
31 Ibid., S. 218-220.
32 Ibid., S. 224.
33 Ibid., S. 224-226.
Zu De Spiritu Sancto von Didymus dem Blinden 95
Auch aus einer anderen Schriftstelle kann man einen Beweis fur unseren
Glauben fuhren (§91)34. Es handelt sich um die Aussagen iiber die Weisheit
Gottes, §§92 ff. Denselben circulus unitatis et substantiae, den der Sohn mit
dem Vater hat, hat der Geist mit dem Sohn; wiederum ist er nicht verschieden
(non discrepare) in der substantia von Sohn und Vater (§94)35. Der Heilige
Geist ist das Siegel Gottes gesiegelt durch den Geist werden sie zum Siegel
Christi gefuhrt, voll von Weisheit, Wissen und vor allem Glauben (§95)36.
Wenn man die Natur des Heiligen Geistes als 'wirkend' und 'austeilend'
bezeichnet, dann ist daraus ncht abzuleiten, daB der Heilige Geist (nur) opera-
tio und nicht auch substantia Gottes ist. Der Heilige Geist ist sehr wohl natura
subsistans (§97)37. Auch das Wirken des Heiligen Geistes in der Kirche in den
Herzen der Glaubigen ist vom Wirken des Vaters und des Sohnes nicht zu
trennen (§§104 ff.)-
Der 'Ausgang' des Heiligen Geistes vom Vater ist weder raumlich noch
korperlich vorzustellen (§§11 1 ff.). Der vom Vater gesandte Sohn ist nicht vn
ihm getrennt und abgelost, er bleibt in ihm und hat hn in sich (§111)38. Das
Gleiche gilt fur den Heiligen Geist. Wie der Vater sich nicht an einem Ort
befindet, weil er jenseits aller korperlichen Natur ist, so ist auch der Heilige
Geist der Wahreit auf keine Weise durch eine raumliche Grenze eingeschlos-
sen(§112)39.
Das Ausgehen des Heiligen Geistes aus dem Vater ist so zu verstehen, wie
der Heiland von sich selber sagt, daB er von Gott ausgegangen sei, Joh 8,42
(§113). §114 sagt dasselbe mit anderen Worten. Der Heilige Geist wird vom
Sohn und vom Vater gesandt, aus dem selben Willen von Vater und Sohn40.
Die Funktion des Heiligen Geistes ist die Lehre, §§140 ff.
Er lehrt das Geistliche und Geistige, kurz die sacramenta (= mysteria) des
Glaubens (§140)41. Er lehrt nicht wie irgendein Doktor oder Magister, sondern
er ist die Weisheit selbst, aus der er mitteilt.
Der Heilige Geist ist auch Schopfer (§145)42. So ist es kein Wunder, daB er
den Leib des Herrn geschaffen hat (vgl. §144).
Eine lange Reihe von Paragraphen widmet Didymus dem Reden Gottes
(§§154 ff.).
Naturlich unterscheidet er auch die sonstige Bedeutungen von 'Geist' in der
Schrift (§238).
34 Ibid., S. 228.
35 Ibid., S. 232.
36 Ibid., S. 232-234.
37 Ibid., S. 234-236.
38 Ibid., S. 248.
39 Ibid., S. 250.
40 Ibid., S. 252.
41 Ibid., S. 274.
42 Ibid., S. 278-280.
96 B.-H. Cho
Didymus lehrt sowohl die Einheit wie die Dreiheit von Vater, Sohn und
Heiligen Geist. Der Heiligen Geist ist Gott. Er ist dem Vater und dem Sohn
gleichwesentlich. Eine Reihe von Ausdriicken belegt dies: deltas (§§83, 131,
224), deus spiritus sanctus (§§43, 224), unius cum patre et filio (§231),
&uooi>aia (§145); ex participatione sanctae trinitatis (§26), in trinitatis
mysterio (§44), unius substantiae... trinitas (§76), unitate iunctus (§139), patri
filioque sociatus (§145), eadem in trinitate natura (§166), indissociabilis et
idiscreta trinitatis (§191), copula trinitatis (§214), iuxta naturae substantlae-
que consortium (§252).
Seine Vermittlungsfunktion zwischen griechischer und lateinischer Trinitats-
lehre und Pneumatologie kann nicht iiberschatzt werden.
P.S. In der Diskussion hat mich jemand gefragt, ob Didymus eine innere Trinitat oder
eine oikonomische Trinitat leht: Fiir Didymus ist dies keine zutreffende Frage, weil er
eine derartige Methode fur seine Beweisfuhrung nicht benutzt. Grundsatzlich lieBe sich
aus seiner Argumentation sowohl mit substantia wie mit operatio sowohl die eine wie
die andere Gestalt der Trinitatslehre entwickeln.
Inconnaissance et priere chez Evagre
le Politique et Denys l'Areopagite
Ysabel de Andia, Paris
Mcncdpio<; 6<; Kaxr|XGe el<; xf|v cmeipov dyvaxriav.

'Bienheureux celui qui est descendu dans I'ignorace infinie'
(Kephalaia gnostica III.88, Frankenberg1)
La sentence d' Evagre du livre III des Kephalaia gnostica - etudiee par les
Peres jesuites Max Viller et Irenee Hausherr - a ouvert une discussion sur le
sens de l'ignorance ou de l'inconnaissance infinie chez Evagre le Pontique et
Denys l'Areopagite et sur Taccord' presume de ces deux auteurs dans la tra
dition spirituelle, byzantine et syrienne.
Reprenons le 'dossier' de l'ignorance infinie.
Pour le Pere Max Viller, 'II est certain que des phrases comme celle
d'Evagre: "Bienheureux celui qui est descendu dans l'ignorance infinie"
(III,88, Frankenberg), devraient s'harmoniser du premier coup avec les affir
mations de l'Areopagite que Dieu est connu dans la "nuee". Le Geto<; yv0-
cpo<;, de ce dernier s'identifiait tout naturellement avec l'"ignorance" du pre
mier'2.
Pour le Pere Irenee Hausherr, 'l'ignorance infinie ne saurait s'identifier avec
le yvocpo<; dionysien'. Par consequent l"accord' qu'effectue Maxime le
Confesseur entre Evagre et Denys n'est qu'une 'superposition' de l'un a
l'autre: 'Maxime, avec des mots dionysiens, n'a fait qu'exprimer des idees
eVagriennes'. D'ou la conclusion generate: ce n'est pas Denys qui a influenc6
le monde byzantin ou syriaque, mais Evagre. 'La part de l'Areopagite est
minime et le plus souvent purement verbale'3.
Cette these a ete repetee inlassablement.
Sans revenir sur l' interpretation de la Theologie mystique de Denys par
Hausherr qui me semble meconnaitre la notion d'aphairesis et surtout celle
d'henosis, je voudrais, a mon tour, reprendre la comparaison avec Evagre
le Pontique et Denys l'Areopagite sur le sens de l'inconnaissance et la
1 W. Frankenberg, Euagrius Pontikus, Abhandlungen der koniglichen Gesellschaft des Wis-

senschaften zu Gottingen N.F. 13, 2 (Berlin, 1912), p. 257.
2 M. Viller, 'Aux sources de la spiritualite de saint Maxime', RAM 1 1 (1930), p. 248.
3 Cf. I. Hausherr, 'Ignorance infinie ou science infinie?', OCP 25 (1959), 44-52 (surtout
46-48), repris dans I. Hausherr, Hesychasme et priere, OCA 176 (Roma, 1966), pp. 238-246.
98 Y. DE Andia
question du statut de l'intellect (voC<;) dans la priere pure ou l'union mys

tique et me demander, pour conclure, si l' influence de Denys sur Isaac,
alors meme qu'il cite Evagre, n'est pas plus importante qu'Ir6nee Hausherr
ne le reconnait.
I. L'inconnaissance infinie
1. Evagre
Dans son edition des Kephalaia Gnostica4 (IlI.88), Antoine Guillaumont
donne la version syriaque commune (SI) et une autre version syriaque (S2).
Voici les deux versions de cette sentence: SI : 'Heureux celui qui est parvenu
a l'ignorane indepassable' et S2: 'Heureux qui est parvenu a la science inde
passable'5: ces deux versions semblent se contredire, - a moins que cela ne
soit une erreur d'ecriture6 -, mais 1" ignorance ind6passable' et la 'science
indepassable' se correspondent comme le montre une autre sentence de la IIP
Centurie: 'Celui dont la science est limitee, son ignorance aussi est limitee; et
celui dont l'ignorance est illimitee, sa science aussi est illimitee' (KG 11I.63
(SI))7.
Dans le Practicos, Evagre distingue deux 'ignorances':
Celui qui progresse dans la pratique diminue ses passions, celui qui progresse dans la
contemplation diminue son ignorance. Or, des passions, il y aura un jour destruction
complete, mais en ce qui concerne l'ignorance, il en est une, dit-on, qui a un terme, une
autre qui n'en a pas (Practicos, ch. 87)8.
Ce qui distingue les deux ignorances9, c'est que la premiere a une fin
(rcepai;), tandis que la seconde n'en a pas. Cette ignorance ou cette 'incon-
naissance sans fin' n'est-elle pas la meme chose que la 'science illimitee' qui
a pour objet Dieu ou la Trinite?
4 A. Guillaumont, Les six centuries des 'Kephalaia gnostic' a"Evagre le Pontique, PO 200,
fasc. 1, n° 134 (Turnhout, 1985). Les 'Kephalaia gnostica' seront citees KG. Cf. A. Guillaumont,
Les 'Kephalaia Gnostica' d'Evagre le Pontique et l'histoire de l'origenisme chez les Grecs et
chez les Syriens, Patristica Sorbonensia 5 (Paris, 1962).
5 KG, p. 135.
6 Cf. I. Hausherr, 'Ignorance infinie ou science infinie?', Hesychasme et priere, p. 239.
7 KG, p. 123.
8 Evagre le Pontique, Traite pratique ou le molne, vol. I, Introduction, et vol. II, Edition cri
tique, traduction et commentaire par Antoine et Claire Guillaumont, SC 170 et 171 (Paris, 1971),
pp. 678-679. G. Bunge, Evagre le Pontique, Traite Pratique ou le Moine, Spiritualite orientale 67
(Begrolles-en-Mauges 1996).
9 Les termes dyvcocria et ayvoia ont toujours un sens negatif dans les Scholies aux Pro-
verbes, 6d. P. Gehin, SC 340 (Paris, 1987), et sont opposes a la science ou a la sagesse divine.
Ainsi: 'L'intellect impassible se "de1ecte" de la sagesse multiforme (Ep 3, 10), mais l'intellect
passionne tombera dans l'ignorance' (333), p. 423.
Inconnaissance et priere chez Evagre le Pontique et Denys l'Areopagite 99
2. Denys
Comme Evagre, Denys distingue, dans le chapitre VII des Noms divins,
deux sortes de connaissances et d'inconnaissances:
Dieu est connu grace a la connaissance et a 1' inconnaissance... la connaissance la
plus divine de Dieu, c'est celle qui est obtenue grdce a l'inconnaissance, dans une
union au-dessus de I 'intellect, lorsque I 'intellect, s 'etant sipare de tous les etats et
s'etant, ensuite, egalement quitte lui-meme, s'unit aux rayons plus que lumineux et,
a partir d'eux et en eux, est illumine par Finsondable profondeur de la Sagesse10 (DN
VII, 872 A-B).
La connaissance s'oppose a l' inconnaissance, comme la premiere hypothese
du Parmenide de Platon (Parm. 142 a) a la seconde hypothese. Dieu est 'rien
en rien' et 'tout en tout', dit Denys, car il peut etre dit a la fois selon la theo-
logie negative et selon la theologie affirmative. Mais il y a une aure connais
sance, une 'connaissance plus divine' (Geioxepa yvcoai<;) qui est 'obtenue par
l'inconnaissance'. Qu'est-ce que cette inconnaissance? Ce n'est pas l'incon-
naissance de la theVlogie negative qui est encore un discours, un logos, mais
l'inconnaissance qui a lieu dans ' I 'union au-dela I 'intellect'.
Pour comprendre l'inconnaissance chez l'un et chez l'autre, il faut se
demander quel est le statut de l'intellect dans la priere ou l'union mystique.
II. Le statut du vouq dans la priere
Tout d'abord Pseudo-Denys et Evagre le Pontique, comme Plotin, pensent

que le vo6<; qui contemple l'Un est sans forme, &vei8eo<;.
Chez Evagre, la lumiere divine est une 'lumiere sans forme' , selon le beau
titre du livre de Robert Beulay sur la 'mystique chretienne syro-orientale'11, et,
la contemplation de la Sainte Trinite est une 'gnose immaterielle et sans forme'
(dvsi8eo<;) (Or 68)12. Chez Denys, la Tenebre divine est au-dela de toute
forme. Par consequent l'intellect qui contemple Dieu doit etre egalement 'sans
forme'.
10 Cf. Rrn 11,33.

" R. Beulay, La lumiere sans forme. Introduction a I'etude de la mystique chretienne syro-
orientale, 'L'Esprit et le feu' (Chevetogne, 1987).
12 I. Hausherr S.J., Les lecons d'un contemplatif. Le Traite de l'Oraison d'Evagre le Pontique
(Paris, 1960). le commentaire d'l. Hausherr est cite Traite de l'Oraison, suivi de la page, et les
differents chapitres du Traite de l'Oraison: Or, suivi du numero du chapitre.
100 Y. DE Andia
1. Evagre
1 . La purification de l'intellect13 se fait par la praxis dont la finalite est l'im-
passibilite (Gnosticos 2 et 49)14. La gnosis ou 'science superieure a tout', qui
est un don ou une grace, ne peut se realiser que par la 'separation de l'intellect
de toutes choses terrestres'. Non seulement l'intellect doit etre 'separe de tout'
ou 'renoncer a tout' (Or 36), mais il ne doit pas 'subir l'impression d'une
forme', que ce soit une figure imaginaire ou une idee. Le 'piege' du demon est
de faire croire qu'une forme corporelle peut etre le Dieu incorporel. II faut donc
'preserver l'intellect de tous concepts au temps de l'oraison pour qu'il soit
ferme dans la tranquillite qui lui est propre (oIketo f|peuia)' (Or 69).
C'est pourquoi, pour atteindre l'oraison pure, il faut 'supprimer' toutes les
pensees: 'Tu ne saurais avoir l'oraison pure (KaGapa rcpoaeuxr)), si tu es
embarrasse de choses materielles et agite de soucis continuels; car l'oraison
est suppression des pensees' (Or 70)15.
Cette formule: 'suppression des pensees' ((tnoQeoiq vor|ndxcov) - se trans-
mettra par le Liber asceticus (24) de Maxime le Confesseur, YEchelle sainte
de Jean Climaque et Gregoire le Sinai'te dans la Philocalie16. Elle exprime l'as-
cese de l'intelligence dans la priere.
2. La priere est un 'etat de l'intellect' sans pensees et pourtant cet etat est la
'plus haute intellection de l'intellect': 'L'oraison sans distraction - dit encore
Evagre - est la plus haute intellection de l'intellect' (Or 34a).
Ilyaun paradoxe avec ce que nous venons de dire: l'oraison est a la fois
'suppression des pensees' (drcoGem<; vor|naxcov) et 'la plus haute intellection'
(mepa vor|c7ii;) de l'intellect. C'est une intellection (vor|cn.<;) sans pensees
(vof|uaxa) ou encore l'activite ou l'energie propre a l'intellect: 'L'oraison fait
exercer a l'intellect l'activite qui lui est propre (olKeia £vepyeia)' (Or 83).
L'intellect doit etre 'nu'17, 'pur'18 ou 'spirituel'19 pour atteindre la 'priere spi-
rituelle'20 ou la 'priere pure'21. Cette priere est un 'etat de l'intellect': 'L'etat de
13 Cf. G. Bunge, 'Nacht dem Intellekt leben. Zum sog. "Intellektualismus" der evagriani-
schen Spiritualitat', in: SIMANDRON: Der Wachklopfer, Gedankschrift fur Klaus Gamber
(1919-1989), W. Nyssen (Koln, 1989), pp. 95-109.
14 Evagre le Pontique, Le Gnostique, Edition critique et traduction par Antoine et Claire
Guillaumont, SC 356 (Paris, 1989), pp. 90-91 et 191.
15 Evagre le Pontique, Sur les Pensees, Edition et traduction par Paul G6hin et Claire Guillau
mont, SC 438 (Paris, 1998), pp. 294-295 n. 8 (N° 41). Cf. Lettres 58 et 61. Pour les hemes, voir
Evagre, Epistulae LXII, ed. Frankenberg, Euagrius Poncticus, et la traduction allemande in G.
Bunge, Evagrios Pontikos. Briefe aus der Wiiste, Sophia 24 (Trier, 1986).
16 Philocalie, 5 vol. (Athenes, 1957-1963).
17 Cf. Evagre, Cent. III.6 elLettre 58; cite par I. Hausherr, Traite de l'Oraison, p. 120. Sur la
nudite des intellects, voir P. Bettiolo, Evagrio Pontico. Per conoscere lui (Bose, 1996), pp. 61-
62, n. 17; pp. 229-235, n. 16.
18 Cf. Evagre, Cent. V.90 et VI.63.
19 Cf. Evagre, Cent. III.30.
20 Evagre, Traite de l'Oraison, n°s 49 et 128.
21 Evagre, Traite de l'Oraison, n°s 67, 70, 72, 97; Practicos, n° 142 etc.
l'intellect, c'est la cime intellectuelle sur laquelle resplendit, au temps de l'orai-

son, la lumiere de la Sainte Trinite' (Cent. Pseudo-Suppl. 4 = Skemmata 4).
Evagre identifie:
l'etat de pure intellectualite (Kaxaaxaaii; vooc,);
l'etat d'oraison (koxoo-xao-ic. Ttpoaeuxnc,);
et la theologie (GeoXoyia) ou la gnose (yvakric,) de la Trinite.
Quant a la 'cime intellectuelle' c'est l'image de Dieu dans l'intellect22.
2. Denys
1. Comme Evagre, Denys insiste sur la purification de l'intellect23. L'intel
lect doit etre 'pur' (KaGapo<;), 'sans forme' (dvei8eoq), 'nu' (yuuvo<;). Mais
la difference avec Evagre, c'est que la purification de l'intellect n'implique
pas, pour Denys, de 'combat spirituel' et de 'discernement spirituel' des pen-
sees (A,oyiauoi), c'est pourquoi il n'a pas trouv6 de place dans la Philocalie ni
dans la tradition proprement monastique.
Quant au statut du voOc,, la grande difference entre Evagre et Denys, c'est
que, pour l'un, la priere est un 'etat de l'intellect' (Kaxaaxacnq voo<;) ou une
'intellection' (vor|m<;), tandis que, pour l'autre, il ne peut y avoir d'intellec-
tion (vor|ai<;) dans l'union (gvaxnc,) avec Dieu. L'intellect (voO<;) qui entre
dans la Tenebre est prive d'activit6 ou d'energie (dvevepyr|aia) (MT 1001 A),
de parole (dA,oyia) et de pensee (dvor|aia).
2. La seconde grande difference entre les deux, c'est que Denys parle d'ex-
tase (eKcrcaai<;), alors qu'Evagre, a la suite d'Origene, se mefie de cette
notion et prefere celle de 'ravissement', qui est employ6e a propos de la vision
de saint Paul sur le chemin de Damas (2 Co 12, 2-3): 'L'etat d'oraison est un
habitus (§î<;) impassible qui, par un amour supreme (Spcoc, dKpoxaxoc,), ravit
sur les cimes intellectuelles l'intellect £pris de sagesse spirituelle' (Or 52).
Pour Denys, l'extase est une 'sortie de tout et de soi-meme':
Pour toi, mon cher Timothee... eleve-toi, autant qu'il est possible, dans l'inconnais-
sance vers l'union avec Celui qui est au-dessus de toute essence et connaissance24; car
c'est par une extase25 purement deliee et detochee, de tout et de toi-meme (feauxoC Kai
TtdvxcOV EKGxacnq), que tu seras souleve vers le rayon suressentiel de la Tenebre26
divine, apres avoir tout 6carte et t'etre detache de tout (MT 1001 A).
22 Cf. Evagre, Cent. V.35, citd par Hausherr, Traite de l'Oraison, p. 74.
23 Rene Roques, 'Le primal du iranscendant dans la purification de l' intelligence selon le
pseudo-Denys', RAM 30 (1954), 268-274.
24 Le terme yvcoaii; qui n'est pas employe une seule fois dans les Noms divins apparait 5 fois
dans la Theologie mystique (MT 997 B, 1000 A, 1001 A, 1025 A, 1048 A) et 15 fois dans les hemes.
25 Sur l'extase, voir: G. Horn, 'Amour et extase d'apres Denys l'Areopagite', RAM 6 (1925),
278-289 et W. Volker, {Contemplation und Ekstase bei pseudo-Dionysius Areopgita (Wiesbaden,
1958), p. 197.
26 Le terme employe ici est otcoxo<;, tandis que le titre du chapitre porte yvocpo<;. Sur la dif
ference entre ctkoxoc. (EH 433 A; DN 700 D, 728 A, 869 B2; MT 1000 A2, 1048 A; EP 1, 1065
102 Y. DE Andia
II ne suffit pas de sortir de la chair - et nous avons vu que l'oraison est en

quelque sorte une sortie du corps - l'union mystique exige une sortie de soi.
La raison donnee est une raison d' amour et ceci est repete a la fois dans les
Noms divins (DN 712 A) et dans la Theologie mystique (MT 1001 A): ne plus
's'appartenir a soi', mais 'appartenir' a celui que l'on aime.
Denys parle de l'extase a propos de Teros extatique', dans les Noms
divins, et de l'entree de Moi'se dans la Tenebre divine, dans la Theologie
mystique.
Dans les Noms divins (DN IV.13, 712 A), Denys fonde le caractere exta
tique de l'eros sur la parole de saint Paul dans YEpitre aux Galates: 'Je vis,
mais non plus moi, c'est le Christ qui vit en moi' (Ga 2, 20). L'extase de
l'homme en Dieu se double de l'extase de Dieu en l'homme. L'extase n'est
pas un ravissement passager ni un transport affectif, mais l' exigence et l'on
pourrait dire la loi constitutive de l' amour divin qui ne laisse pas 'les amants
s'appartenir a eux-memes, mais a ceux qu'ils aiment'. La 'preuve' de la
force extatique de l'amour, c'est qu'il pousse les etres a sortir d'eux-memes
pour etre la providence (rcpovoux) des inferieurs, la cohesion (crovoxr|) des
egaux entre eux et la conversion (£ruaxpocpf|) des inferieurs envers les supe-
rieurs.
Si Paul est le modele de Tamant extatique' dans les Noms divins, c'est
Moi'se qui est le modele dans la Theologie mystique.
Et alors (Moi'se) se libere meme des etres visibles et voyants et il penetre dans la
Tenebre reellement mystique de l'inconnaissance, dans laquelle il fait taire (&Ttoui)ei)
toutes les apprehensions cognoscitives et se trouve en ce qui est totalement impalpable
et invisible, appartenant tout entier a Celui qui est au-deld de tout, et a nuI (autre), ni
a lui-meme, ni a un autre, mais uni, selon un mode superieur, a Celui qui est comple-
tement inconnaissable par la suspension de toute connaissance et, par le fait qu'il ne
connait rien, connaissant au-dela de l'intellect (MT I.3, 1001 A).
La depossession est totale et pourtant l'identite n'est pas perdue: 'Moi'se est
uni a Dieu "par le meilleur de lui-meme'. Quel est ce 'meilleur'? Denys nous
dit ailleurs que c'est Yapex mentis, la 'pointe de l'intellect' ou la 'fleur de l'in
tellect'.
Ces quelques remarqes sur le statut du vou<; chez Evagre et Denys nous ont
montre qu'il est inseparable de la definition de la priere que l'un et 1 autre don-
nent, illumination par la Lumiere de la Trinite pour l'un, entree dans la
Tenebre divine, pour l' autre.
A2) et de yv6cpo<; (DN 869 A; MT 997 AB, 1000 C, 1001 A, 1055 AB, 1033 B; EP 5, 1073 A),
voir C.-H. Puech, 'La tenebre mystique chez le Pseudo-Denys l'Areopagite et dans la tradition
patristique', in: La Nuit mystique, Etudes carmelitaines, 23e annfc (Paris, 1938), pp. 33-37.
III. La lumiere de la Trinite et la Tenebre divine
1. Evagre
Evagre a pose la question suivante a Jean le voyant de la Thebaide: est-ce
'la nature de l'intellect qui est lumineuse et si c'est d'elle que vient la lumiere,
ou bien quelque chose d'exterieur l'illumine-t-il. II nous repondit: Aucun
homme n'est capable de decider cette question; mais en tous cas, sans la grace
de Dieu, l'intelligence ne saurait etre illuminee dans l'oraison et delivree des
ennemis nombreux et acharnes a sa perte' (Antirrhetique, Acedia 16)27.
La lumiere qui illumine l'intellect est soit la lumiere propre a l'intellect28,
soit la lumiere de la Trinite, qui illumine l'intellect lors de la priere.
Evagre parle de 'la lumiere qui entoure l'intelligence'29 et de la 'lumiere
propre de l'intellect' des impassibles (Gnosticos 45)30, en invoquant l'autorite
de Basile. Dans le Practicos, il donne comme indice de l'&TtdGeia le fait que
'l'intellect commence a voir son propre resplendissement' (xo oIkeiov cpey-
yo<;) (Practicos 64)31.
Quant a la 'lumiere' de la Sainte Trinite, elle est donnee soit dans le 'ravis-
sement' de l'intellect, soit comme 'resplendissement' de cette lumiere sur lui.
'La priere est l'etat de l'intellect, qui survient sous la seule lumiere de la Sainte
Trinite' (npoaet)xf| taxi Kaxdaxaaii; voC, (mo cpoxoi; uovou yivouevr| xr\q
dyia<; Tpia8o<;) (Skemmata 27, Grec [= Pseudo-suppl. KG 30]). Cette sentence
a ete traduite en syriaque: 'La priere est l'etat de l'intellect qui seulement par
la lumiere de la Sainte Trinite est coupe32 par le moyen de l'extase.'
Isaac de Ninive s'appuie sur ce texte errone pour distinguer la priere et
l'etat au-dela de la priere; car, pour lui, au-dessus de la priere pure, il y a un
etat ou cesse la priere, auquel il donne parfois la denomination de 'priere spi-
rituelle'33.
A propos de cette 'lumiere de la Trinite', Evagre se refere plusieurs fois au
passage d'Exode 24, 10: 'Et Moi'se, Aaron, Nadab, Abihu et soixantte-dix du
conseil des anciens d'Israel monterent et virent le lieu ou se tenait le Dieu
27 Cit6 par I. Hausherr, Traite de l'Oraison, p. 47.

28 Cf. Evagre, Cent. 11I.15, 62; III.6; V.15, 41 etc.
29 Cf. Evagre, Sur les Pensees, SC 438, p. 258 et n. 3.
30 Evagre le Pontique, Le Gnostique, SC 356, p. 179.
31 Evagre le Pontique, Traite pratique ou le moine, vol. II, SC 171, p. 649.
32 Cf. I. Hausherr, 'Par dela l'oraison pure grace a une conquille. A propos d'un texte
d'Evagre', in: Hesychasme et priere, pp. 8-12.
33 P. Bedjan, Mar Isaacus Ninivita. De perfectione religiosa (Paris/Leipzig, 1909), p. 260. Le
Pere Robert Beulay (La Lumiere sans forme, p. 251, n.86) note la meme influence de cette sen
tence d'Evagre sur Joseph Hazzaya (A. Mingana, Early Christian Mystics, Woodbrooke Studies,
vol. VII (Cambridge, 1934), pp. 150, 259; Cent. VI.46, 48) et sur Jean de Dalyatha (Lettre 12,
in: R. Beulay, La collection des Lettres de Jean de Dalyatha, PO 39, fasc. 3, n° 180 (Turnhout,
1978), pp. 337-343.
104 Y. deAndia
d'Israel; et ce qui etait sous ses pieds (&rco xou<; rc68a<; afrcou), etait comme
un ouvrage de brique de saphir et comme l' aspect du firmament du ciel par la
limpidite' (Ex 24,9-11).
Ce 'pavement' ou cette 'brique' de 'saphir semblable, par sa purete, au ciel
lui-meme' represente pour Evagre l'intellect qui s'etend 'sous les pieds de
Dieu' et qui reflete sa lumiere: 'L'etat de l'intellect est la hauteur intelligible34,
pareil a la couleur du ciel, sur laquelle se leve au moment de la priere la
lumiere de la Sainte Trinite' (Skemmata 4, Grec [= Pseudo-suppl. KG 4]).
Cette sentence est citee par Isaac de Ninive (Discours 32) et Calliste et
Ignace Xanthopouloi dans leur Centurie spirituelle, reprise dans la Philocalie35.
2. Denys
Quelle est maintenant la pensee de Denys sur le 'lieu de Dieu' et sur la
Tenebre?
1. La premiere difference entre Denys et Evagre, c'est que, pour Evagre, le
'lieu ou Dieu se tient' est l'intellect pur et nu 'illumine par la lumiere de la Tri
nite', alors que, pour Denys, ce sont les 'raisons hypothetiques' (Xoyoi &rco-
Osxikoi) du cree (MT I, 3, 1000 D - 1001 A). Denys a le sentiment de propo
ser une interpretation nouvelle de la signification du lieu de Dieu, car il parle
a la premiere personnel 'Cela signified pense\
II y a une 'theophanie' a travers les 'raisons hypothetiques', theophanie de
la Sagesse divine qui se manifeste, selon Rm 1, 20, d'une maniere invisible
dans les choses visibles, et, selon Denys, dans les paradigmes de ce monde.
Cela correspondrait, chez Evagre, a la 'contemplation naturelle'.
2. La seconde opposition, la plus fondamentale, entre Evagre et Denys est
celle des deux lieux scripturaires ou ils situent leur conception de la priere ou
de la theologie mystique, a savoir Exode 24, 10 pour Evagre et Exode 20, 21
pour Denys.
La Tenebre divine est appelee par Denys 'Tenebre plus que lumineuse du
silence' (MT 997 B), car c'est par exces et non par defaut de lumiere qu'elle
est 'Tenebre'. C'est la 'lumiere inaccessible' (xo drcpomxov cpax;) de la Pre
miere Epitre a Timothee (1 Tm 6, 16), citee dans la d6finition de la Tenebre
dans la Lewe V(1073 A):
'La Tenebre divine est cette "lumiere inaccessible" (1 Tm 6, 16) ou il est
dit que "Dieu habite" (Ps 38, 6). Et si l'exces meme de sa dart6 la rend invi
sible, si le d6bordement de ses effusions lumineuses et suressentielles la
derobe a tout regard, c'est en elle pourtant que nait quiconque est digne de
connaitre et de contempler Dieu' (EP V, 1073 A).
34 Le syriaque lisait: 5yo; vor|xcoi;.

35 Philokalia, t. 4, p. 261, et Calliste et Ignace Xanthopouloi, Centurie spirituelle, Philocalie,
fasc. 1 (Bellefontaine, 1979); nouvelle Edition, t. 1 (Paris, 1995).
La Tenebre a un sens subjectif car c'est Tinaccessibilite' de la Lumiere qui

la rend 'Tenebre' pour celui qui ne peut la voir. C'est un signe a la fois de la
transcendance et de l' inconnaissance dans laquelle nous demeurons quant a ce
que Dieu est en lui-meme. La parole de Jean le Theologien: 'Dieu est lumiere'
(1 Jn 1, 5) est vraie aussi bien pour Denys que pour Evagre, mais l'un parle
abondamment de la 'vision' de la 'Lumiere de la Trinite', tandis que, pour
l'autre, il n'y a pas de 'vision' (opcraie;), mais une 'union' (evcomi;) au Dieu
qui reste le 'Dieu inconnu' au sein meme de l'union.
Conclusion
Reprenons les questions posees au debut: Que signifie l'inconnaissance et

quel est le statut de l'intellect dans la priere chez Evagre et Denys? Y a-t-il un
'au-dela de la priere'? Et peut-on parler, comme le fait Ir6n6e Hausherr, d'une
influence seulement 'verbale' de Denys sur la mystique byzantine (Maxime) et
la mystique syriaque (Isaac).
La difference entre Evagre et Denys peut etre resumee dans la difference de
leurs conceptions de la Beo>.oyia. Pour Evagre la 'theologie' (GeoA,oyia),
c'est-a-dire la connaissance du Dieu Trinite\ s'accomplit dans la priere (rcpo-
aeuxf|), ce qu'exprime la sentence: 'Si tu es theologien, tu prieras vraiment,
et si tu pries, tu es theologien' (Or 60)36. Pour Denys, il y a differentes sortes
de th6ologie: la theo-logie affirmative comme la theo-logie negative qui sont
un discours (logos) sur Dieu, alors que la 'theologie' proprement 'mystique'
(uuoTiKf) GeoA,oyia) s'enfonce dans son mystere (nuaxr|piov).
Certes, la GeoA,oyia d'Evagre ne sera jamais la uuctxikt) GeoA,oyic* de
Denys37, car leur objet est different; mais il n'y a pas d'unio mystica, chez
Evagre, comme il n'y a pas de reflexion sur l'intellect image de Dieu chez
Denys.
Certes, l'opposition entre la katastasis nou et I'ekstasis est irreductible et
suppose deux philosophies differents - la fascination du Parmenide ne peut
toucher que les philosophes - et il faut ajouter deux conceptions de l'eros dif
ferentes, bien qu'Evagre et Denys se r6clament tous deux du Commentaire du
Cantique des Cantiques d'Origene —, mais l'extase a ete adoptee aussi bien
par les Byzantins que par les Syriens, dans un concordisme qui n'est pas seu
lement 'verbal', comme mouvement de depossession de soi de l'amour.
Certes, l'influence d'Evagre est plus importante que celle de Denys, mais
a condition de faire la distinction qu'Irenee Haushers a etablie lui-meme,
36 Cf. G. Bunge, Das Geistgebet. Studien zwn Traktat De Oratione des Evagrios Pontikos,
Koinonia-Oriens 25 (Koln, 1987) et '"The spiritual Prayer": On the Trinitarian Mysticism of
Evagrius of Pontus', Monastic Studies 17 (1986), 191-208.
37 I. Hausherr, 'Ignorance infinie', Hesychasme et priere, p. 47.
106 Y. DE Andia
dans son article 'Au-dela de la priere pure...', entre un 'Evagre grec' et un

'Evagre syriaque'38, ce qui permet de parler d'un 'au-dela de la priere' qui ne
se trouve pas dans l''Evagre grec'.
Quant a T ignorance infinie' qui a ete notre point de depart, il semble que
c'est bien a l'inconnaissance 'plus divine', dont parle Denys dans le texte cite
plus haut des Noms divins (VII, 872 A-B), et non a la sentence des Kephalaia
gnostica d'Evagre, qu'Isaac fait allusion dans le passage ou il cite Exode 24:
Lorsque I'intellect se depouille du vieil homme et se revet de I'homme nouveau, celui
de la grace, il voit sa propre purete, semblable a une couleur celeste que les anciens
des fds d'Israel ont appelee le 'lieu de Dieu', lorsque Dieu leur apparut sur la mon-
tagne (Ex 24, 9)39. C'est pourquoi, comme je l'ai dit, ce don et cette grace ne doivent
pas etre appeles priere spirituelle, mais ils sont les rejetons de la priere pure40 qui est
desormais engloutie par le Saint Esprit. A un tel moment, l'intellect se trouve au-dela
de la priere, celle-ci ayant ete abandonnee, puisque quelque chose de meilleur est
apparu. L'intellect ne prie pas alors par la priere, mais il se trouve etre ravi, il
contemple des choses incompr6hensibles qui sont au-dela des limites du monde des
mortels, et il est r&Iuit au silence par l'ignorance de tout ce qui s'y trouve. Voild done
cette ignorance qui est appelee plus sublime que la connaissance41.
II me semble que 'cette ignorance qui est appelee plus sublime que la
connaissance', selon Isaac, ne renvoie pas d'abord a 'l'ignorance infinie'
d'Evagre, mais a la connaissance 'plus divine', dont parle Denys. Le compara-
tif ne se trouve que chez lui.
Hilarion Alfeyev, dans son livre sur L 'univers spirituel d'Isaac le Syrien42,
conclut: 'Isaac suit l'enseignement d'Evagre sur l'intellect et sa propre nature
lumineuse, comme aussi celui de Denys sur la bienheureuse ignorance qui
depasse toute connaissance humaine'. Sa conclusion sera la notre.
38 Sur les versions syriaques d'Evagre, voir: I. Hausherr, Les versions syriaques et arme-
niennes d'Evagre le Pontique, Leur valeur - Leur relaton - Leur utilisation, Orientalia Chris
tiana 22,2 = no. 69 (1931), appendice; J. Muyldermans, Evagriana Syriaca, Bibliotheque du
Museon, 31 (Louvain, 1952); A. Guilluunlont, Les " Kephalaia Gnostica" d'Evagre le Pontique,
pp. 200-258; S. Brock (ed.), Isaac of Nineveh (Isaac the Syrian). "The Second Part" , "Chap
ters rV-XU', CSCO 555 (Louvain, 1995), pp. XXIV-XXIX.
39 C'est une citation d'Evagre: Pseudo-Suppl. 25 = Pensees 39.
40 Sur la priere, voir S. Brock, 'La priere et la vie spirituelle selon les Peres syriaques, pre
sentation generate', Parole de l'Orient 26 (2001), 201-265.
41 Isaac le Syrien, Homilies spirituelles, 1/23 (121-122) = PR 11 (174-175). Voir The asceti-
cal homilies of Saint Isaac the Syrian, translated by the Holy Transfiguration Monastery (Boston,
1984).
42 H. Alfeyev, L'univers spirituel d'Isaac le Syrien, Spiritualite orientale 76 (Bellefontaaine,
2001), p. 254. Sur l'influence d'Evagre dans le monde syro-oriental, voir A. Guillaumont, Les
"Kephalaia Gnostica" d'Evrage le Pontique, pp. 327-332; R. Beulay, Lumiere sans forme, ch. II,
'L'influence d'Evagre', pp. 16-34 et S. Chiala, Dall'ascesi eremtica alia misericordia infinita.
Ricerche su Isacco di Ninive e la suafortuna, Bibliotheca della Rivista di storia e Letteratura Reli-
giosa, Studi XIV (Firenze, 2001), 'L'illuminatore della mente, Evagrio Pontico', pp. 101-109.
'Measure Our Religion Against Yours' : Constantine's
Concept of Christianity in the Oration to the Saints1
H. A. Drake, Santa Barbara
Towards the end of that very idiosyncratic confession of faith that we know as
the Oration to the Assembly of Saints, the emperor Constantine challenges an
unnamed persecutor with whom he has been carrying on a one-way conversation
to 'Measure our religion against yours'. The passage has received scant attention,
for obvious reasons. Unlike earlier sections of the oration, it contains no hints to
Constantine's theological stance, and it both precedes and follows those parts of
the oration with the richest, and most frustrating, store of chronological clues - an
account of the persecution in ch. 22 and of Diocletian's fate in ch. 25. Scholars
can be forgiven if they have lingered over the former and raced ahead to the lat
ter. But closer attention to this seemingly innocuous chapter can help resolve a
long-standing dilemma regarding Constantine's intentions in this speech and,
more broadly, his intentions regarding the traditional cults of the empire.
In this chapter, Constantine runs through a laundry list of Christian virtues:
Christians, he boasts, have internal harmony (6u6voia), they practice charity
(cptXavGpcoTtia), they are honest and sincere in their dealing with God and
man, and they follow a simple and pure life style. These are commonplace
virtues and presumably unobjectionable. But mingled among them are two
others of a decidedly different character. Near the beginning of his list, Con
stantine points out that Christian trials are 'trials for error that lead to chastise
ment, not execution' (eXeyxoi; 8e maiGnaxoq vouGeaiav ouk 6>.eGpov
cpepcov). And he concludes his catalogue by observing that 'he who confesses
God does not become subject to violence or rage, but considers nobly bearing
the trial of his patience a necessary provision for the favour of God'2.
1 All translations from the Life of Constantine are from the edition by Averil Cameron and
Stuart Hall (Oxford, 1999). Translations from the Oration to the Saints are my own. For the text
of the Life, I have used the edition by F. Winkelmann, Uber das Leben des Kaisers Konstantins,
GCS, Eusebius' Werke 1,1 (Berlin, 1975); for the oration, I. A. Heikel, Uber das Leben Con-
stantins, Constantins Rede an die heilige Versammlung, Tricennatsrede an Constantin, GCS,
Eusebius' Werke I (Leipzig, 1902), pp. 151-92.
2 Oration to the Saints (hereafter OC, for Oratio Constantini) 23.1-2: the concluding passage
(at 23.2) reads: 6 yap xot xov Geov 6u.oXoyrjo-ai; oh yivexai rcdpepyov uPpeax; ou8e GunoO,
&XX' sbyev&q xt)v dvdyKT|v (moaxa<; xf|v xf\q Kapxepiai; rceipav £cp68iov txei xfj<; npbq xou
Geoi> efyieveiai;.
108 H.A. Drake
These two comments can help resolve one of the most contentious and long-
lived questions posed by the reign of Constantine - I mean the extent to which
he used coercive force to support Christianity once he seized control of the
eastern empire from Licinius. The evidence for this question is notoriously
double-sided. The clearest statement comes from Eusebius of Caesarea, who at
several places in the Life of Constantine depicts the emperor in acts of repres
sion that range from stripping the temples of their precious metals and works
of art (3.54) to forbidding sacrifice and idol worship (4.23) to ordering temples
destroyed and priesthoods suppressed (3.55-56, 58).
In that same work, Eusebius included an Edict to the Provincials that also
deals with the issue of pagan-Christian relations. It was issued by Constantine
in the aftermath of his successful campaign against Licinius. Here Constantine
calls to mind the 'savagery' (xo xcov xporccov aypiov, 2.49.1) of the persecu
tors and contemptuously concedes to pagans 'their sanctuaries of falsehood'
(xo xr\q \|/eu8oA,oyia<; xeuevn, 2.56.2). In light of the atmosphere of oppres
sion sketched by Eusebius, a case can be made that this concession was only
grudgingly made, and Constantine 's failure to mention sacrifice is proof that
he had indeed abolished the practice3.
The Oration to the Saints is peppered with equally derogatory language. At
one point, Constantine characterizes opponents of the Christian God as 'witless
and impious men' (xive<; &vot|xoi Kai ouaaePei<; avGpamoi, 1 1.4), and speaks
thinly veiled words suggesting that the days of sacrifices are near their end:
So be gone, impious ones, to the butchery of your sacrifices, for your unpunished sins
are forgiven you; go to your feasts and great festivals, where you simulate worship but
pursue pleasure and licentiousness, where you pretend to conduct holy rites but serve
your own pleasures. (1 1.7)
At another point, he asserts that 'the products of unjust and wild behaviour, so
ruinous to the ways and means of justice, should be destroyed', and that 'piety
should be strengthened and superstition obliterated' (16.1).
These comments seem amply to confirm a Constantinian campaign to sup
press the traditional cults and replace them - by force if necessary - with his
new faith. Other evidence, however, would force us to modify that conclusion.
The Edict to the Provincials, for instance: despite the angry outburst, its main
purpose was to condemn coercive behaviour. Constantine, in fact, holds up his
persecuting predecessors as examples of what comes from the use of violence:
the empire was plunged into a veritable civil war (2.49) and the persecutors
3 The Edict to the Provincials is at VC 2.48-60. For the argument that the Edict bans sacri
fice, see T.D. Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius (Cambridge, MA, 1981), p. 210, defended in
' Constantine 's Prohibition of Pagan Sacrifice', AJP 105 (1984), 69-72. See also M. Errington,
'Constantine and the Pagans'. GRBS 29 (1988), 309-18. S. Bradbury has pointed out in 'Con
stantine and the Problem of Anti-Pagan Legislation in the Fourth Century', CP 89 (1994), 120-
39, that such laws were primarily meant to intimidate.
'Measure Our Religion Against Yours' 109
themselves suffered 'a shameful death'. The aim of the edict is to let his new
subjects know that his own policy will be different (2.48 :T shall as far as I can
try to acknowledge openly to you all what my hopes are'). 'For the general
good of the world and of all mankind', he explains in words addressed as a
prayer to God, T desire that your people be at peace and stay free from strife.
Let those in error, as well as the believers, gladly receive the benefit of peace
and quiet ... May none molest another; may each retain what his soul desires,
and practise it'. These words immediately precede, and certainly mitigate, his
characterization of traditional cult as 'temples of lies'. (VC 2.56).
Such contradictions also crop up in the Oration to the Saints. What makes
Christ's opponents 'witless and impious', for instance, is that they 'do not real
ize that the great-spirited and forbearing one is never deterred by insolence,
nor is one with the greatest innate strength moved by shameful treatment'.
Instead, Christ breaks the wildness of opponents through 'reason and magna
nimity' (11.4). Constantine underscores the point later in the oration by citing
the moment of Jesus 's arrest, when he rebuked a disciple for drawing his
sword. 'This is indeed heavenly wisdom', he concludes, 'to choose rather to
endure than to inflict injury, and to be ready, should necessity so require, to
suffer, but not to do, wrong'. (15.4).
These seemingly Jeckyll-and-Hyde statements have fuelled the debate over
Constantine 's policies and intentions. Some of the debate, granted, can be
resolved simply by paying closer attention to the meaning of 'toleration'. It
does not mean 'acceptance', or even 'indifference'. In fact, it means quite the
opposite: willingness, for the sake of a greater good, to put up with - as the
Encyclopedia of Philosophy phrases it - 'persons, attitudes, and behaviors
which we find repugnant'4. Thus, Constantine's angry rejection of those prac
tices we now label 'paganism' does not by itself mean he took action to sup
press those practices. In fact, it should mean the very opposite, especially
when coupled with the frequently repeated injunctions against violent action in
his edict and the moral lessons he draws in the oration.
There remains Eusebius's witness, in particular his claim at VC 2.45 that
Constantine ordered 'that no one should presume to set up cult-objects, or
practise divination or other occult arts, or even to sacrifice at all'. Eusebius's
testimony would seem to tilt the balance, but for all his care as a historian,
Eusebius is notoriously given to sweeping statements and tendentious inter
pretations. Few, for instance, would want to defend his claim that Constan
tine's purpose in adorning Constantinople with pagan statuary was 'for the
laughter and amusement of the spectators'5.
4 Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, s.v. 'Toleration' (http://www.utm.edu/research/iep/t/

tolerati.htm) See further A. Galeotti, Toleration as Recognition (Cambridge, 2002), ch. 1.
5 3.54.3. On this passage, see C. Mango, 'Antique Statuary and the Byzantine Beholder',
DOP 17 (1963), 53-75.
110 H.A. Drake
Still, there is plenty of room for disagreement; hence, the importance of this
chapter in the oration. Although the sentiments Constantine expresses in these
lines are not by themselves particularly noteworthy, they become so when the
role they play in this speech is taken into account.
In the immediately preceding chapter, Constantine had raised the issue of
Diocletian's persecution, which he characterized as 'an implacable war' waged
by 'tyrants excelling in madness and cruelty' against the personified Piety to
whom he has been speaking6. He then invoked the unnamed author of these
events, identified only as the 'most impious of men' (BuaaePearaxe). What
did you think you were doing? he asks, and then supplies an answer: 'You
will say that it was because of the honor due to the gods. What sort are these?
... Do you think the gods are as emotional as you are?'7 It is after this and
other such questions that Constantine begins ch. 23 by asking his adversary to
'Measure our religion against yours'. The immediate aim of this chapter,
therefore, is to show that Christianity does not promote the wicked activity, so
harmful to the state, that had been pursued by the 'most impious of men'.
Under such circumstances, we are permitted to conclude that Constantine
deliberately chose virtues for this comparison that he believed would not sim
ply contrast with those of his adversary, but also put him to shame. That con
text makes the two particular virtues mentioned at the outset stand out from
the others. When Constantine says that Christian trials are for the purpose of
'chastisement, not execution', and when he says Christian 'confession of God'
is demonstrated by enduring violence and rage, he can be doing nothing else
but making a deliberate and immediate contrast with the persecuting policy of
his predecessors, as comparison with the language of the Edict to the Provin
cials (2.49.1-2) shows.
These virtues differ from the others, in other words, in that they refer to spe
cific events that the audience would have been sure to recognize. As the next
chapter of the oration, ch. 24, shows, this topic was politically charged, for
here Constantine invokes successively the third-century persecutors Decius,
Valerian, and Aurelian, after which he turns to the fate of Diocletian in ch. 25.
Here is where he drops those tantalizing historical clues. But the effect of our
concentration on his historical allusions has been to obscure the line of Con
stantine 's argument.
Constantine concludes ch. 23 with an argument for divine judgement of
human affairs, in which he explains that it would be foolish to think God did
not return favours when even humans do so. This bit of vintage Constantinian
reasoning leads to a comparison between the unhappy fate of Diocletian and his
persecuting predecessors, in chs. 24 and 25, and the successes of his own reign,
in ch. 26. 'Indeed, all men know', he exclaims, 'that the most holy service of
6 OC22.1.
7 OC 22.4-5.
'Measure Our Religion Against Yours' 111
these hands is due to a pure and unmitigated faith in God ... It befits all men,
therefore, to give thanks to the Saviour of All for our personal safety and for the
happy state of public affairs'8. With a final appeal to God as 'the Unconquer
able Ally (df|xxr|xo<; crb\i\iaxoq) and champion of the just', the speech, which
by this point has probably gone on for a good two hours, concludes9.
Ch. 23 thus plays a strategic role in the oration, allowing Constantine to
contrast the piety and fairness of his reign with the turmoil caused by his per
secuting predecessors. The pivotal role played by this chapter is what helps
resolve any doubt as to the message Constantine himself wished to deliver. For
ch. 23 serves not merely as a point of entry to a discussion of the persecutors,
but also as a summary of key points in the oration. It is therefore significant,
and determinative, that the points he reprises in this chapter are those dealing
with concord, forgiveness, and forbearance. If his angry dismissal in ch. 11 of
those who continue to frequent the temples were meant as anything more than
a signal of his own displeasure, if it were indeed an indication of policy, he
might easily have developed the theme of divine vengeance introduced at this
very point to explain and justify a policy of repression. Instead, Constantine
emphasizes the opposite.
This chapter is thus one further example of the deftness with which Con
stantine discredited Christians who resisted his policies by putting them in the
same category with opponents of the faith. When he ordered Anus's works
committed to the flames, for instance, he likened him to Porphyry, 'the enemy
of godliness'10. In the same way, he used this speech to discredit Christians
who wanted to use coercive force against traditional cults. In chapter 11 he
ridiculed critics who do not understand God's benevolence or a policy of using
'reason and magnanimity' to overcome violent and insolent behaviour (11.4);
later in the same chapter, he singled out Christ's willingness to forgive rather
than punish folly and error as his most astonishing miracle (11.7); in chapter
13 he argued that diversity of opinion was part of God's plan (13.1); and in
chapter 15 he used Jesus' rebuke of the disciple who drew his sword as an
object lesson that violence is to be restrained rather than encouraged (15.3),
praising as 'heavenly wisdom' (f) oupavioi; aocpia) the decision to suffer
rather than inflict injury (15.4). These are the themes he chooses to come back
to in chapter 23 - themes that highlight differences between the peaceable and
godly reign of Constantine and the brutally coercive policies of his predeces
sors.
8 OC 26.2: £rciaxavxai ye navxeq dvGpamoi xf)v xcov8e xcov xeipcov dywoxaxr|v Xaxpeiav
6cpeiXeo-Gai x<p Ge$ niaxei KaGap$ Kai eiXiKpiveo-xdxr| .... xpri xoivuv Ttdvxa<; xoix; xf|v
euaepeiav Kaxa8icbKOvxai; xdpiv &noXoyeTv xqj acoxfjpi xcov rcdvxcov Svekbv xr\q f|u.exepa<;
auxcbv ctcoxr|pia<; Kai xf|<; xcov 8r|poma>v npayudxcov euumpiai;.
9 As estimated by R. Lane Fox, Pagans and Christians: Religion and the Religious Life from
the Second to the Fourth Century A.D. (New York, 1987), p. 628.
10 Socrates, HE 1.9.
112 H.A. Drake
Constantine had learned the lesson of Diocletian's persecution: a policy of

religious coercion is neither necessary nor productive. Pronouncements like
the Edict to the Provincials and speeches like the Oration to the Saints show
how he used Christianity's own message to bring home that point.
A Bishop and his City: Cyril of Jerusalem*
Jan Willem Drijvers, Groningen
Jerusalem had become a backwater by the beginning of the fourth century.

Nothing was left of its former splendour of the first century CE. The suppression
of the Jewish revolt in 70 C.E. resulted in the partial destruction of the city and
the Jewish temple. The overthrow of the Bar Kochba rising in 135 C.E. was fol
lowed by the refoundation of the city by Hadrian; the emperor renamed the city
Colonia Aelia Capitolina after himself and Jupiter Capitolinus1. Hadrian expelled
the Jewish inhabitants from Jerusalem and did not allow them to live in the city
and in its immediate vicinity. The Jews were replaced by a gentile population,
many of them veterans coming from Syria and other nearby regions2.
The presence of units of the Tenth Legion - the Legio X Fretensis - made
Aelia Capitolina very much a garrison town. However, in spite of the presence of
these military contingents, Aelia was an insignificant provincial town, and it was
considerably smaller than Jewish Jerusalem had been in the first century in terms
of residential area and number of inhabitants3. Moreover, Aelia was a pagan city
and had completely lost its Jewish character. Temples and shrines were erected
by Hadrian in Aelia 's forum and other central places in the city; however, the
Temple Mount remained a conspicuously desolate area4. Administratively,
Aelia seems to have been organised as a normal Roman colony with a munic
ipal council, duumvirs, aediles, and decurions5; these magistrates, however,
This paper outlines part of the material discussed in my Cyril of Jerusalem: Bishop and
City, Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 72 (Leiden, 2004).
1 For the refoundation see, e.g., E.M. Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule from Pompey
to Diocletian. A Study in Political Relations, 2nd edn (Leiden, 1981) pp. 459 ff.; Fergus B. Mil
lar, 'The Roman Coloniae of the Near East: A Study of Cultural Relations', in Mika Kajava and
Keikki Solin (eds), Roman Eastern Policy and Other Studies in Roman History (Helsinki, 1990),
pp. 28-30; G. Stemberger, Jews and Christians in the Holy Land. Palestine in the Fourth Cen
tury (Edinburgh, 2000), pp. 51-5; Mary T. Boatwright, Hadrian and the Cities of the Roman
Empire (Princeton, 2000), pp. 196-203.
2 Eus., HE 4.6.4; Cass. Dio 59.12; Chron. Pasch. 1, p. 474 (ed. Dindorff (Bonn, 1832)); M.
Avi-Yonah, Jews of Palestine. A Political History from the Bar Kokhba War to the Arab Con
quest (Oxford, 1976), pp. 15-16; Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule, p. 460.
3 N. Avigad, Discovering Jerusalem (Nashville, 1983), pp. 205-7.
4 Only a statue of Hadrian was set up on the Temple Mount and possibly an idol of Jupiter:
Hier., In Esaiam 1.2.9 (CCL 73, 33). The Bordeaux pilgrim speaks of two statues of Hadrian: It.
Burd. 591.
5 B. Lifshitz, 'Jerusalem sous la domination romaine. Histoire de la ville depuis la conquete
de Pompee jusqu'a Constantin (63 a.C-326 p.C.)', in ANRW II.8 (1977), p. 484; Millar, 'Roman
Coloniae', p. 30.
1 14 J.W. Drijvers
were subordinate to the provincial administration of Syria-Palaestina in Cae-

sarea, the provincial capital. The Roman legion, the presence of which must
have influenced life in Aelia in many respects, remained until the end of the
third century when it was relocated, perhaps by Diocletian, to Aila, modern
Eilat, on the Red Sea6. The transfer of the legion must have been a serious
drain for Aelia in terms of population and economic wealth.
The Jerusalem church is the mother of all churches7. Information about the
history of the Jerusalem Christian community in the first three centuries CE.
is primarily provided by Eusebius' Church History8. We should not be misled
by Eusebius' exclusive focus on Christians and Christianity. Christians were
still a minority in a predominantly pagan Aelia. However, in the third century
the Jerusalem community appears to have become stronger both in numbers
and in terms of organisation. An increased self-assuredness of their biblical
past may be surmised among Aelia's Christians in this period. An indication of
this growing self-confidence is the composition of a bishops' list around the
year 300 CE9. The purpose of this episcopal catalogue was to demonstrate and
to enhance the continuity of the Jerusalem Christian tradition since its earliest
times. Another intention of the catalogue was to rival the great churches of
Rome, Antioch, and Alexandria, which also possessed these lists of bishops. In
addition to a growing self-assuredness, it may be that there was among
Jerusalem Christians a growing awareness of the many sites which represented
Jerusalem's biblical past; whether these were already considered holy and
whether there was already a tradition of veneration, as Christian sources and
also modern scholars would like us to believe, is uncertain10.
In the fourth century, the religious character of Jerusalem changed again:
churches replaced pagan shrines and from a pagan city Aelia gradually became
a Christian city; the 'New Jerusalem', as Eusebius calls it11. Responsible for
this change was, in the first place, the emperor Constantine the Great. His 'Holy
Land Plan' implied a focus on Christian sites in Palestine and the building of
6 Smallwood, Jews under Roman Rule, p. 534; Benjamin Isaac, The Limits of Empire. The
Roman Army in the East, rev. edn (Oxford, 1992), p. 280.
7 Thdt.,tf£ 5.9.17.
8 For an overview of Christianity in Jerusalem in the time before Constantine, see J. Murphy-
O'Connor, 'Pre-Constantinian Christian Jerusalem', in: Anthony O'Mahony, Goran Gunner, and
Kevork Hintlian (eds), The Christian Heritage in the Holy Land (London, 1995), pp. 13-21.
9 C.H. Turner, 'The Early Episcopal Lists II. The Jerusalem List', JTS 1 (1900), 529-53; F.
Manns, 'La liste de premiers eVSques de Jerusalem', in Franfois Blanchetiere and Moshe David
Herr (eds), Aux origines juives du Christianisme (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 133-58.
10 For the view that this was not the case, see Joan E. Taylor, Christians and the Holy Places.
The Myth of Jewish-Christian Origins (Oxford, 1993). Cf. E.D. Hunt, 'Were there Christian Pil
grims before Constantine?', in: J. Stopford (ed.), Pilgrimage Explored (Woodbridge, Suffolk,
1999), pp. 25-40.
11 VC 33.1 and commentary on this passage by Averil Cameron and Stuart G. Hall, Eusebius:
Life of Constantine (Oxford, 1999), pp. 284-5.
A Bishop and his City: Cyril of Jerusalem 115
magnificent churches there: the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem at the site
where Jesus was thought to have been born, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre
in Jerusalem at the alleged site of his crucifixion and burial, and a church on the
Mount of Olives, close to the site of the Ascension12. This sacralisation of space
was a new phenomenon to Christianity13. In contrast to the concept that God
could be venerated anywhere, now the notion of privileged holy space and of
local sanctity developed as well as the idea that there contact with God was
more intense. However, not only Constantine was responsible for this develop
ment. The bishops of Jerusalem were also especially keen on focusing attention
on the sacred sites, in particular those within the boundaries of their own bish
opric. It may be assumed that at the Council of Nicaea in 325 Macarius - then
bishop of Jerusalem - informed Constantine about the presence of the site of
Golgotha, and possibly about other holy sites within his bishopric14. In combi
nation with that, the Jerusalem bishops cherished and propagated Jerusalem's
biblical past. It was this past which induced the bishops present at the Nicene
Council to decide, no doubt at the instigation of Constantine, that, recognising
'custom and ancient tradition', the bishop of Jerusalem was to have a position
of honour at general church councils together with the bishops of Alexandria,
Antioch, and Rome. However, in his own church province the bishop of
Jerusalem was to remain subordinate to the jurisdiction of the metropolitan
bishop in Caesarea15. This paradoxical situation was a source of tension
between the bishops of the two sees, already becoming manifest in the relation
ship between Macarius and Eusebius. These tensions were reinforced by differ
ences between Jerusalem and Caesarea about doctrinal matters: in general the
bishops of Caesarea were favourable towards Arianism whereas the Jerusalem
bishops kept close to the Nicene formulation of the faith16.
12 VC 25-43.4. See also Taylor, Christians and the Holy Places, chaps. 5, 6, and 7 for these
churches. For the church of the Holy Sepulchre, see Shimon Gibson and Joan E. Taylor, Beneath
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre Jerusalem. The Archaeology and Early History of Traditional
Golgotha (London, 1994).
13 Robert A. Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity (Cambridge, 1990), chap. 10; Beatrice
Caseau, 'Sacred Landscapes', in: G.W. Bowersock, Peter Brown and Oleg Grabar (eds), Late
Antiquity. A Guide to the Postclassical World (Cambridge, Mass./London, 1999), pp. 40 ff.. See
also Robert A. Markus, 'How on Earth could Places become Holy? Origins of the Christian Idea
of Holy Places', JECS 2 (1994), pp. 257-71.
14 E.g., Peter Walker, 'Jerusalem and the Holy Land in the 4th Century' in Anthony O'Ma-
hony, Goran Gunner, and Kevork Hintlian (eds), The Christian Heritage in the Holy Land (Lon
don, 1995), pp. 24-5. Cf. E.D. Hunt, 'Constantine and Jerusalem', JEH 48 (1997), p. 411, who
argues that Macarius had already received instructions from the emperor about the construction
of churches in Jerusalem.
15 J.D. Mansi, Sacrorum Conciliorum nova et amplissima Collectio, vol. 2 (Florence, 1759),
671; K.J. Hefele, A History of the Christian Councils from the Original Documents, vol. 1, To
the Close of the Council of Nicaea A.D. 325 (Edinburgh, 1894), pp. 404-9.
16 J. Lebon, 'La position de Saint Cyrille de Jerusalem dans les luttes provoques par l'arian-
isme', RHE 20 (1924), pp. 181-210, pp. 357-86; Z. Rubin, 'The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
116 J.W. Druvers
This emphasis on Jerusalem's Christian past and its holy sites as tangible
expression of this past continued under Macarius' successors. However, it was
during the episcopate of Cyril that Jerusalem's history and holiness were fully
propagated. According to Cyril, Jerusalem deserved to be recognised as an
apostolic see and as the prime see within the church province of Palestine,
because of its biblical past and the presence of sacred sites, as visible and tan
gible remains of Christ's life and passion. These points of view would bring
him into direct conflict with his metropolitan superior in Caesarea.
Cyril does not belong to the premier league of late-antique Church Fathers.
He was not a great theologian; no theological and exegetical works by him are
known and it is questionable whether he wrote any. His qualities were rather
of a political and organisational nature. Cyril became bishop of Jerusalem in
350 and maintained this position until his death in 38717. Hardly anything is
known about his background. He was born possibly around the year 315, but
where is unclear. His rhetorical skills make it very likely that he received a
thorough education in the classical curriculum; he may therefore, as many
other bishops of his time, have belonged to the urban elite. He probably
became a deacon of the Jerusalem church in the first half of the 330s; he was
ordained a priest around the year 343.
Episcopal elections in Late Antiquity were often matters of profound con
troversy, and Cyril's election as bishop of Jerusalem was no exception. We
may surmise from the sources that Cyril's nomination was irregular18. His pre
decessor Maximus seems not to have wanted Cyril as his successor and had
already pushed forward somebody else. However, Cyril had the support of
Acacius, the Arian metropolitan bishop of Caesarea, and other Arian bishops
in the church province of Palestine. To obtain their support Cyril may have
given the impression that he was an adherent of Arianism; otherwise it is hard
to explain how he would have gained their required following. Jerome and
other Church Fathers later accused him of being an Arian, or, at least, waver
ing in his doctrinal points of view19.
and the Conflict between the Sees of Caesarea and Jerusalem', in Lee I. Levine (ed.), The
Jerusalem Cathedra 2 (Jerusalem/Detroit, 1982), pp. 79-105; Z. Rubin, 'The See of Caesarea in
Conflict with Jerusalem from Nicaea (325) to Chalcedon (451)', in Kenneth G. Holum and
Avner Raban (eds), Caesarea Maritima. A Retrospective after Two Millennia (Leiden, 1996),
pp. 559-74.
17 There is no modern biography of Cyril. There are several older works which deal with
Cyril's life and works: J. Mader, Der heilige Cyrillus, Bischof von Jerusalem, in seinem Leben
und Schriften nach den Quellen dargestellt (Einsiedeln, 1891); A. Paulin, Saint Cyrille de
Jerusalem Catechete (Paris, 1959); introductions in W. Telfer, Cyril of Jerusalem and Nemesius
ofEmesa, The Library of Christian Classics 4 (London, 1955), and Leo P. McCauley and Anthony
A. Stephenson, The Works of Saint Cyril ofJerusalem, 2 vols, FC 61, 64 (Washington, 1969-70).
18 Hier., Chron. a.348; Ruf., HE 10.24; Socr., HE 2.38.2; Soz., HE 4.20.1.
19 Hier., Chron. a.348; Ruf., HE 10.24; Socr., HE 5.8.1. According to Sozomen (HE 7.7.3)
Cyril adhered to the ideas of the Macedonian heresy.
However, the initial good relations between Cyril and his metropolitan
bishop Acacius soon became strained. Cyril's episcopacy was dominated and
characterised by his difficult relations with Caesarea and its bishop. The prob
lems between the two most important sees in Palestine were about doctrine
and - from Cyril's perspective the more important issue - about authority in
the church province of Palestine. As a consequence of the enmity between
himself and his superior, Cyril was several times deposed and exiled20. Of the
thirty-seven years he was bishop he spent some seventeen in exile (357-59,
360-61/2, 366/7-79). The last eight years of his episcopacy were his happiest.
Cyril clearly must have felt comfortable with the reign of the orthodox
emperor Theodosius I, after a period in which his fate had to a great extent
depended on the doctrinal stance of the metropolitan bishop in Caesarea and
that of the reigning emperors, of whom many were sympathetic towards Ari-
anism. The metropolitan see of Caesarea was occupied now by Cyril's own
nephew Gelasius21, who clearly acted as his uncle's subordinate. The climax
of Cyril's career was the Council of Constantinople in 381, where he was one
of the foremost bishops present, and where he seems to have had considerable
influence on the enactment of the so-called Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed22.
Several of Cyril's works have been passed down through the ages, not only
in his native Greek, but also in Syriac, Armenian, and Coptic translations. The
most important of these are his Letter to (the emperor) Constantius, the Cate
chetical Lectures - instructions for candidates for baptism - and the Mysta-
gogical Catecheses - Lectures on the Mysteries23. There is some discussion
about whether the last work is authentically his, but in a recent study it is con
vincingly argued that they are originally by Cyril24. Clearly Cyril's Catecheti
cal Lectures are his best known and most studied works25.
Historians of Late Antiquity, as opposed to theologians and religious schol
ars, have shown hardly any interest in Cyril. Scholars from these latter fields
have been mainly interested in his theological/christological points of view,
and have studied his works, in particular the Catechetical Lectures, from that
perspective26. Liturgical scholars have also studied Cyril, since his works are
20 First exile: Hier., Chron. a.348; Thdt., HE 2.26.7. Second exile: Socr., HE 2.42.6; Soz.,
HE 4.25.1; Thdt, HE 2.27.1-2. Third exile: Hier., De Vir. IlI. 122; Socr., HE 2.45.17-18; Soz.,
HE 4.30.3.
21 Hier., De Vir. IIl. 130.
22 Socr., HE 5.8; Soz., HE 7.7, 9; Thdt., HE 5.8-9.
23 For a succinct overview of his works see, e.g., E.J. Yarnold, Cyril of Jerusalem (Lon
don/New York, 2000), chap. 3.
24 Alexis Doval, Cyril of Jerusalem, Mystagogue. The Autorship of the Mystagogic Catech
eses (Washington, D.C., 2001).
25 The standard edition of his works is Cyrilli Hierosolymorum archiepiscopi opera quae
supersunt omnia, ed. W.K. Reischl and J. Rupp, 2 vols (Munich, 1848-60).
26 E.g., A.A. Stephenson, 'S. Cyril of Jerusalem's Trinitarian Theology', SP XI (1972), 234-
41; Robert C. Gregg, 'Cyril of Jerusalem and the Arians', in Robert C. Gregg (ed.), Arianism.
118 J.W. Druvers
among the primary sources for reconstructing the liturgy of the early Church27.
However, Cyril's works also reveal considerable information for historians
and tell us something about Cyril's social environment. They are therefore
interesting sources, in combination of course with other primary material,
for reconstructing the social and historical circumstances in which Cyril
lived and worked.
Cyril has been called the founder of the 'new' church of Jerusalem28. And
indeed, during Cyril's episcopate great changes and events took place in
Jerusalem. Worthy of mention are the development of Jerusalem as a major
centre of pilgrimage29; the development of a so-called stational liturgy30; the
(failed) rebuilding of the Jewish temple under Julian the Apostate in 36331; the
building of churches and monasteries in Jerusalem and its vicinity32. Cyril is
Historical and Theological Reassessments. Papers from the Ninth International Conference on
Patristic Studies, Sept. 5-10, 1983, Oxford (Philadelphia, 1985), pp. 85-109; R.P.C. Hanson, The
Search for the Christian Doctrine of God. The Arian Controversy 318-381 (Edinburgh, 1988),
pp. 398-413.
27 G. Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London, 1945); K. Deddens, Annus Liturgicus? Een
onderzoek naar de betekenis van Cyrillus van Jeruzalem voor de ontwikkeling van het 'kerkelijk
jaar' (Goes, 1975); John F. Baldovin, Liturgy in Ancient Jerusalem (Bramcote, 1989); Thomas
J. Talley, The Origins of the Liturgical Year (Collegeville, 1991); E.J. Yarnold, The Awe-Inspir
ing Rites of Initiation. The Origins of the R.C.I.A. (Collegeville, 1994); Yarnold, Cyril of
Jerusalem, chap. 4.
28 O. Irshai, 'The Jerusalem Bishopric and the Jews in the Fourth Century: History and
Eschatology', in: Lee I. Levine (ed.), Jerusalem. Its Sanctity and Centrality to Judaism, Chris
tianity, and Islam (New York, 1999), p. 210.
29 Standard works on pilgrimage to the Holy Land in Late Antiquity are E.D. Hunt, Holy
Land Pilgrimage in the Later Roman Empire AD 312-460 (Oxford, 1982), and P. Maraval, Lieux
saints et pelerinages d'Orient. Histoire et geographie des origines a la conquete arabe (Paris,
1985).
30 John F. Baldovin, The Urban Character of Christian Worship. The Origins, Development,
and Meaning of Stational Liturgy (Rome, 1987), chaps 1 and 2.
31 This event evoked a vehement reaction from Christian writers immediately after the death
of Julian. David B. Levenson has collected the ancient and medieval source material on the
restoration of the Temple in his 'Julian's Attempt to rebuild the Temple: An Inventory of
Ancient and Medieval Sources', in: Harold W. Attridge, John J. Collins, and Thomas H. Tobin
(eds), Of Scribes and Scrolls. Studies on the Hebrew Bible, Intertestamental Judaism, and Chris
tian Origins (Lanham, 1990), pp. 261-79. Whether Cyril himself commented on the event is
uncertain. There is a letter in Syriac ascribed to Cyril and published by S.P. Brock, 'A Letter
Attributed to Cyril of Jerusalem on the Rebuilding of the Temple', Bulletin of the School of Ori
ental and African Studies 40 (1977), 267-86; repr. in idem, Syriac Perspectives on Late Antiquity
(London, 1984). However, the letter is not considered genuine although elements of it could go
back to a Jerusalem source; see Jan Willem Drijvers, 'Cyril of Jerusalem and the Rebuilding of
the Jewish Temple (A.D. 363)', in: Caroline Kroon and Daan den Hengst (eds), Ultima Aetas.
Time, Tense and Transience in the Ancient World. Studies in Honour of Jan den Boeft (Amster
dam, 2000), pp. 123-35.
32 Avigad, Discovering Jerusalem, pp. 208ff.; John Binns, Ascetics and Ambassadors of
Christ. The Monasteries of Palestine, 314-631 (Oxford, 1994).
A Bishop and his City: Cyril of Jerusalem 1 19
furthermore known for his local patriotism, which brought Jerusalem its spiri
tual reputation and prominence within the world of Christendom33.
Jerusalem and its Christian community were always at the centre of Cyril's
actions. As a bishop he seems to have cared for his flock. Information is limited,
but one event may be considered exemplary for the way in which he perceived
his responsibilities as caretaker of his community. Cyril had been bishop for
only a few years when, in the mid-350s, Jerusalem and its surrounding area
were struck by a serious shortage of food. The poor appealed in great numbers
to the bishop for help. In order to purchase the provisions to save the people
from starvation, Cyril secretly sold sacred ornaments of the church and a valu
able holy robe, fashioned with golden threads, that the emperor Constantine had
once donated for the bishop to wear when he performed the rite of baptism.
However, someone recognised the robe when it was worn by an actress or
stage-dancer, and discovered that Cyril had sold it. This discovery was for
Acacius the pretext to have Cyril deposed for the first time34.
Taking care of the less fortunate within his community through almsgiving,
supplying food, clothing, and money, belonged of old to a bishop's tasks, and
although, unfortunately, this is the only instance we have of Cyril actually look
ing after the destitute, it appears from this story that Cyril took this obligation
seriously, and we may presume that he did so on other occasions. It was, how
ever, not only charity that may have been Cyril's motive for supporting the
poor. The bishop's support of the poor led in its turn to the poor's support of
the bishop, and made him a leader of a large part of the urban population35.
Having the common people as his clientele added considerably to Cyril's polit
ical influence within the urban community. Taking care of the socially less for
tunate was, therefore, for late-antique bishops not only an act of Christian love,
but also an act motivated by the desire for prestige and authority. The lower
classes constituted the bishop's power base within the urban community. The
fact that Cyril was able to return as bishop after each of his three exiles says a
lot about the popularity and authority he enjoyed with that power base.
Jerusalem's sacred sites and objects were central to Cyril from a theological
perspective. According to Cyril's theology, Jerusalem was first and foremost a
holy city because of the many places associated with the Gospel36. These were
33 Irshai, 'The Jerusalem Bishopric', pp. 210, 215 n. 6.

34 Soz., HE 4.25.1-4; Thdt., HE 2.27.1-2. Although it is not to be doubted that Cyril sold
church property to help the poor, the story, particularly the element of the holy robe, may have
been 'embellished' by those hostile to the Jerusalem bishop.
35 Peter Brown, Power and Persuasion in Late Antiquity. Towards a Christian Empire (Madi
son, 1992), pp. 89 ff.; idem, Poverty and Leadership in the Later Roman Empire (Hanover/Lon
don, 2002); J.H.W.G. Liebeschuetz, The Decline and Fall of the Roman City (Oxford, 2001), pp.
141-2.
36 Catech. 14.16, 17.22, 31. The following owes much to Peter Walker's study Holy City,
Holy Places? Christian Attitudes to Jerusalem and the Holy Land in the Fourth Century (Cam
bridge, 1990).
120 J.W. Druvers
the silent witnesses to the truth of the Gospel stories and were an inspiration
to faith for the pilgrims that visited them. In his baptismal instructions Cyril
emphasised unremittingly, thereby pressing home the centrality of
Jerusalem, that the Gospel events had taken place in Jerusalem37. It had been
here that the apostolic power was first established. Referring to the Gospel
of Luke and Acts, Cyril emphasises that Jerusalem was the seat of apostolic
authority. According to the spiritual grace of the Apostles operating in
Jerusalem the number of Christians had increased. In Jerusalem the Apostles
had issued a letter freeing 'the whole world' from Jewish practices and the
customs once established by Moses38. Jerusalem was also the place from
which the Word of the Lord had gone forth39, from which Paul had preached
the Gospel to Illyricum, Rome, and even Spain40. The biblical past was man
ifestly present in Jerusalem, as Cyril reminded his audience time and again
in his Catechetical Lectures. And the holy sites enabled this biblical past to
be experienced as well as offering the faithful the experience of proximity to
Christ. Or, in the words of Peter Walker, the holy sites were 'an appropriate
medium for faith, places where the divine had touched the human and the
physical, places where through the physical means of touch, of sight and
liturgical action human beings could now in return come close to the
divine'41.
The christianisation of the topography by an increasing number of sacred
places made Jerusalem, at least in Cyril's view, a pre-eminent city in the world
of Christendom. The holy sites were not isolated entities, but became con
nected by way of stational liturgy, a mobile system of worship42. A network of
holy places came into existence which were visited by processions of believers
who proceeded from one holy site to another. Visiting these sites offered the
believers a re-enactment of the Gospel events and hence, presumably, a deep
ening of their faith. However, Jerusalem's stational liturgy also served a pur
pose other than purely religious, namely that of public ritual, and Cyril must
have been well aware of that. Processions going through the streets of
Jerusalem and moving from one sacred site to another were an essential part of
37 In referring to the Gospel events he regularly uses terms like nap' f|uiv and gvxauGa; see
Walker, Holy City, Holy Places ? , pp. 332-3.
38 Catech. 16.9, 17.22, 29. Cf. Luke 24:49; Acts 5:15-16, 15:6-29. See also Walker, Holy
City, Holy Places?, pp. 337-8.
39 Catech. 18.34; cf. Isa. 2:3.
40 Catech. 17.26; cf. Rom. 15:19.
41 Walker, Holy City, Holy Places?, pp. 37-8.
42 Baldovin, Urban Character of Christian Worship, chaps 1 and 2. The development of
Jerusalem's stational liturgy is perhaps to be attributed to Cyril. In this liturgy story, ritual and
place were inextricably bound up with each other. For an evaluation of the setting and historical
context of Jerusalem's stational liturgy, see J.Z. Smith, To Take Place. Toward Theory in Ritual
(Chicago, 1987), chap. 4.
the visibility of Christianity. By way of these processions Christians appropri

ated and usurped the urban landscape. Moreover, these processions were
meant to promote and advertise Christianity, as well as to serve Cyril's ambi
tion of turning Jerusalem into the Christian city par excellence.
Cyril had great ambitions for Jerusalem and his own bishop's see. The sta
tus and prestige of Jerusalem were central to Cyril's attitude and actions. In
Cyril's view, Jerusalem was unique and could therefore claim a position of
preference within the Church, both in Palestine and in the Roman world in
general. Not only did Cyril use arguments from the scriptures to make his
point clear, he also emphasised that Jerusalem was the first bishopric. Cyril's
predecessor James, Jesus' brother, was the 'prototype' of all other bishops43.
Scriptural arguments, the fact that Jerusalem was the first bishopric, and the
holy sites as tangible remnants of the biblical past were applied by Cyril in his
efforts to acquire for his city and for himself a prominent and influential posi
tion in a world that was rapidly christianised. Of all the holy sites in or near
Jerusalem, Golgotha was considered by Cyril as particularly eminent. The
place of the crucifixion, which was incorporated into the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre, was for Cyril the 'centre of the world'44. Of equal importance was
the Wood of the Cross and the presence of its relics in the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre. These represented for Cyril 'the sense of an unbroken and unmedi-
ated contact with Christ'45. The Cross has been justly called the apex of Cyril's
theological system46. For Cyril it was the most powerful, prominent, and glo
rious Christian symbol - a source of illumination and redemption, the source
of life, and the sign of victory47.
For Cyril the relic of the Cross had a political usefulness for communicat
ing the centrality and pre-eminence of Jerusalem over the rest of the world,
and it could serve his intention of making Jerusalem an influential bishopric in
the Christian networks of power.
Already early in his episcopate this intention became clear. In May 351
Cyril reported in a letter to the emperor Constantius II the appearance of a
luminous cross in the sky above Jerusalem48. The shining light filled the sky
over Jerusalem for more than a day, and everyone there observed the phenom
enon. As a consequence, young and old, men and women, local folk and
strangers, pagans and Christians rushed to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre to
43 Catech. 4.28; 14.21.

44 Catech. 13.28.
45 Catech. 10.19, 13.39; Walker, Holy City, Holy Places?, p. 246.
46 Walker, Holy City, Holy Places?, p. 256.
47 In his Catechetical Lectures Cyril refers regularly to the Cross, in particular in his 13'h Cat-
echesis, entitled 'On the Crucifixion and Burial of Christ'.
48 The standard edition of the letter is E. Bihain, 'Epitre de Cyrille de Jerusalem a Constance
sur la Vision de la Croix (BHG3 413)', Byz 43 (1973), pp. 264-96. For the date see H. Chan-
traine, 'Die Kreuzesvision von 351 - Fakten und Probleme', BZ 86/7 (1993/4), pp. 430-41.
122 J.W. Drijvers
praise and acknowledge the one true God. In the letter Cyril argues that the
manifestation of the celestial Cross was conclusive proof of the divine support
for Constantius' reign and for his campaigns against his enemies49. Even the
favours which God had bestowed on Constantius' father, Constantine, were
surpassed. Constantine had been given a mere earthly sign - a reference to the
discovery of the relics of the Cross - whereas Constantius was shown a sign
from heaven.
The letter was evidently designed to draw the emperor's attention to the city
of Jerusalem and the see of its bishop50. No evidence is available that Con
stantius, compared with his father, was particularly interested in Jerusalem.
This letter had to change that. In practice, the emperor was head of the
Church; it was therefore important for Cyril and Jerusalem to have close con
nections with the emperor as in the days of Constantine. Cyril presented him
self as the messenger of good tidings for the emperor and as the emissary of
God to communicate and interpret a divine sign. It is not without significance
that this sign was a Cross, a symbol so central to Cyril's theology, and that it
appeared in Jerusalem. The letter had to emphasise that Jerusalem was in
God's view a pre-eminent and holy city, a view which the emperor should also
hold. Cyril's purpose in sending the letter was therefore to negotiate a power
relationship between Jerusalem and the emperor in order to obtain benefits and
privileges, such as a favourable position for Jerusalem and its episcopal see in
the conflict with Caesarea.
In his Catechetical Lectures Cyril referred regularly to the material presence
of relics of the Cross in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre51. As we know from
the pilgrim Egeria's description of the Jerusalem liturgy, these relics were ven
erated at least twice a year - on Good Friday and during the so-called Encae
nia - the annual celebration of the dedication of the Church of the Holy Sepul
chre52. In Egeria's time, the end of the fourth century53, there existed a story
49 Cyril refers here to the usurper Magnentius against whom Constantius was about to launch
a military campaign. See T.D. Barnes, Athanasius and Constantius. Theology and Politics in the
Constantinian Empire (Cambridge, Mass./London, 1993), pp. 107-8, 221.
50 J. Vogt, 'Berichte iiber Kreuzeserscheinungen aus dem 4. Jahrhundert n. Chr.', Annuaire
de l'Institut de Philologie et d'Histoire Orientales et Slaves 9 = Melanges Henri Gregoire I
(1949), p. 601; Barnes, Athanasius and Constantius, p. 107; Jan Willem Drijvers, 'Promoting
Jerusalem: Cyril and the True Cross', in Jan Willem Drijvers and John W. Watt (eds), Portraits
of Spiritual Authority. Religious Power in Early Christianity, Byzantium and the Christian Ori
ent, Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 137 (Leiden, 1999), pp. 86-87. For an interpretation
of the apparition of the Cross as the sign of the Second Coming, see O. Irshai, 'Cyril of
Jerusalem: The Apparition of the Cross and the Jews', in Ora Limor and Guy G. Stroumsa (eds),
Contra ludaeos. Ancient and Medieval Polemics between Christians and Jews (Tubingen, 1996),
pp. 85-104.
51 Catech. 4.10; 10.19; 13.4.
52 It.Eger. 37.1-3; 48.1-2.
53 Egeria visited Jerusalem probably in the years 381-84, and therefore when Cyril was still
bishop; P. Devos, 'La date du voyage d'Egerie', AB 85 (1967), 165-94. E.D. Hunt, 'The Date of
about how the Cross had been found again in the time of Constantine. This
legend tells how Constantine 's mother Helena went to Jerusalem to search for
the Cross. The empress found not one but three crosses, but with the help of
Jerusalem's bishop Macarius she was able to identify the True Cross. Part of
the Cross was left in Jerusalem, another part was sent to Constantine. I have
argued elsewhere that this legend had its origin in Jerusalem in the second half
of the fourth century and that its original version was part of the now lost
Church History by Gelasius of Caesarea, Cyril's nephew54.
Legends like the inventio crucis are not just nice stories, but they serve a
purpose and give meaning. That is also the case with the legend of the Cross.
Apart from offering an explanation for the presence of relics of the Cross -
possibly in response to questions asked by pilgrims and others - the legend
especially served a political purpose in Cyril's endeavours to gain pre-emi
nence for Jerusalem55.
In the legend of the discovery of the Cross Helena of course figures promi
nently: she travels to Jerusalem to search for and discover the Cross. But the
other protagonist of the legend is Macarius, the bishop of Jerusalem at the time
that the Cross was allegedly found (the mid 320s). Macarius is the one who,
by way of a miraculous healing, identified the True Cross from among the
three crosses which Helena had found on Golgotha. Macarius' role is an
important one: without his support the empress would not have known which
of the crosses was the one of Christ. Discovery and identification of the Cross
are therefore an undertaking of the empress and the bishop of Jerusalem
together. The primary aim of the legend was to establish a relationship
between Jerusalem, its bishop, and the imperial rule of Rome. The legend
clearly gives expression to the wish for this three-cornered relationship
between the imperial house, represented by Helena; Jerusalem and its episco
pal see, represented by Macarius; and the Cross, as the symbol which was
the hinerarium Egeriae', SP XXXVIII (2001), 410-16, has suggested that a later date is perhaps
not to be excluded.
54 Jan Willem Drijvers, Helena Augusta. The Mother of Constantine the Great and the Leg
end of Her Finding of the True Cross (Leiden, 1992); Han J.W. Drijvers and Jan Willem Dri
jvers, The Finding of the True Cross. The Judas Kyriakos Legend in Syriac. Introduction, text
and translation, CSCO 565, Subs. 93 (Louvain, 1997). For Gelasius' Church History and its
orginal contents, see F. Winkelmann, Untersuchungen zur Kirchengeschichte des Gelasios von
Kaisereia, Sitzungsberichte der Deutschen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, Jahrgang 65,
Nr. 3 (Berlin, 1966), and idem, 'Charakter und Bedeutung der Kirchengeschichte des Gelasios
von Kaisereia', Byzantinische Forschungen 1 (1966), 346-85. On the legend of the Cross see fur
ther, e.g., S. Heid, 'Der Ursprung der Helenalegende im Pilgerbetrieb Jerusalems', JbAC 32
(1989), 41-71 ; Stephan Borgehammar, How the Holy Cross was Found. From Event to Medieval
Legend (Stockholm, 1991); H. Heinen, 'Helena, Konstantin und die Uberlieferung der Kreuze-
sauffindung im 4. Jahrhundert', in E. Aretz et al. (eds), Der heilige Rock zu Trier (Trier, 1995),
pp. 83-1 17; Witold Witakowski, 'Ethiopic and Hebrew versions of the legend of The Finding of
the Holy Cross', SP XXXV (2001), pp. 527-35.
55 Drijvers, 'Promoting Jerusalem', pp. 90-2.
124 J.W. Druvers
meant to cement this relationship. Helena's division of the Cross - part was
left in Jerusalem and another part was sent to Constantine - by which the
alliance between Jerusalem and the imperial house was confirmed, is the clear
est expression of this. In that respect the purpose of the legend is remarkably
consistent and is comparable with that of Cyril's Letter to Constantius.
Although testimony is not available, it is an attractive thought that Cyril may
have been responsible for the origin and composition of the legend56. The
Cross, as symbol and tangible relic so dear to Cyril, is politically exploited to
its fullest in the legend, by using it to connect Jerusalem and its bishop to the
imperial house. That makes the legend the perfect myth with which to promote
the cause of Jerusalem.
Cyril's episcopacy was an important phase in the history of Jerusalem. In
this period Christianity became demonstrably visible in Jerusalem, and its
urban landscape acquired its Christian splendour by way of its architecture,
processions, and the masses of pilgrims who strolled the streets of the city.
From the pagan backwater that it was at the beginning of the fourth century,
Jerusalem had developed into a prominent city in the christianising Roman
Empire. Cyril did everything within his abilities to promote his city. In a world
of imperialised Christianity good relations with the emperor were extremely
profitable, and Cyril was well aware of the fact that he needed the support of
the imperial court in his conflict with Caesarea as well as for his plans to gain
for Jerusalem the pre-eminence it deserved in his opinion. In order to realise
his political ambitions Cyril exploited the biblical past and the holy sites of
Jerusalem, and in particular the main cult of Jerusalem, that is the cult of the
Cross, to link himself and his episcopate to power relationships.
Cyril's policy was successful. His conflict with Caesarea was resolved by
the nomination of his own nephew, Gelasius, as metropolitan in 367. Even
though Cyril was theoretically subordinate to Gelasius, Cyril was actually the
bishop with the greater authority; the list of participants at the Council of Con
stantinople of 381, where Cyril's name is at the top of the list of bishops of
Palestine and Gelasius is mentioned second, is proof of this57. Another impor
tant indication of Gelasius' acceptance of the primacy of Jerusalem over Cae
sarea is the incorporation in his Church History of the narrative of the discov
ery of the Cross, in which Jerusalem and its bishop are so prominently present.
For a long time connections with the imperial power remained strained. The
Arian leanings of Constantius and his successors were certainly not advanta
56 T.D. Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius (Cambridge, Mass./London, 1981), p. 382 n. 130
had already observed that the story 'was presumably invented by Gelasius, or by his uncle, Cyril
of Jerusalem'.
57 C.H. Turner, 'Canons Attributed to the Council of Constantinople, A.D. 381. Together with
the Names of the Bishops, from two Patmos MSS', JTS 15 (1914), p. 168; Z. Rubin, 'The Cult of
the Holy Places and Christian Politics in Byzantine Jerusalem', in Lee I. Levine (ed.), Jerusalem.
Its Sanctity and Centrality to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (New York, 1999), p. 155.
geous to Jerusalem. However, the relationship with the imperial house greatly
improved during the last years of Cyril's episcopate and thereafter. The Theo-
dosian dynasty showed increasing interest in the Holy Land and in
Jerusalem58. As was said above, Cyril himself played a prominent role at the
Council of Constantinople of 381, where the Nicene orthodoxy was recon
firmed. By cleverly using Jerusalem's holy sites, the tangible representations
of its biblical past as well as the relic of the Cross, Cyril had evidently succeeded
in his efforts to promote Jerusalem and to acquire for himself the position of
authority that he had striven for since the beginning of his episcopate59.
58 Female members of the imperial family, like Eudocia, visited Palestine; they took Helena
as their example and took pride in being presented as New Helenas; Hunt, Holy Land Pilgrim
age, pp. 155 ff.; Kenneth G. Holum, Theodosian Empresses. Women and Imperial Dominion in
Late Antiquity (Berkeley/Los Angeles/London, 1982), pp. 184 ff., 217 ff.; Jan Willem Drijvers,
'Helena Augusta: Exemplary Christian Empress', SP XXIV (1993), pp. 85-90; Leslie Brubaker,
'Memories of Helena: Patterns in Imperial Female Matronage in the Fourth and Fifth Centuries',
in Liz James (ed.), Women, Men and Eunuchs. Gender in Byzantium (London/New York, 1997),
pp. 52-75.
59 I would like to thank David Hunt for his comments on this paper and for correcting my
English.
[Ps]-Eusebius of Alexandria, 'On Baptism [of Christ]':
A Contest Between Christ and the Devil
Everett Ferguson, Abilene, Texas
The bibliography on the Pseudo-Eusebius of Alexandria is minimal. The

only extensive treatment in reference works is in the Dictionary of Christian
Biography by William Bright, who summarizes notable features of the twenty-
two homilies attributed to him but makes only one reference to the homily 'On
the Baptism of Christ'1. The reason for the designation 'Pseudo' is that the pri
mary source of information about the author is an obviously fictitious Vita by
John the Notary, which provokes the suspicion that John himself composed the
homilies and wrote the Vita of his invented author in order to commend them.
F. Nau has argued that John the Notary wrote numbers 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 10, 16,
22, and perhaps 3, 5, 9, and 1 1 ('On Baptism') and that the collection was then
interpolated with the other homilies2. Bardenhewer concurs and adds that num
bers 10-15 and 17 form an 'unbreakable series'3. Nau places the author in
Syria and says he was not a bishop. The description of the collection as hom
ilies or sermons may be a misnomer, for they belong to the literary genre of
'Questions and Answers'4. The works themselves had an extensive circulation,
being cited in the Sacra Parallela of John of Damascus, translated into Syriac,
Arabic, Armenian, Slavonic, and Georgian, and paraphrased in Latin5. The
collection likely comes from Syria/Palestine and probably originated in the
fifth or early sixth century, for there is a papyrus fragment of it dated to the
sixth century6.
1 DCB II, 305-7. The reference is to Christ as the Lord seen by Isaiah in his vision in Isa. 6: 1-
3 (PG 86, 376A-B). There is an unpublished dissertation by G. Fontaine, 'Les homeJies d'Eusebe
d'Alexandrie' (Leuven, 1966), which I have not seen.
2 F. Nau, 'Notes sur diverses homelies pseudepigraphiques et sur les oeuvres attribuees a
Eusebe d'Alexandrie', ROC 13 (1908), 406-35, at 433-4, also stated in his entry in DTC 5,
1526-7. Homilies 13 and 15, which share with number 11a concern with the devil, appear in
manuscripts of Eusebius of Emesa.
3 Otto Bardenhewer, Geschichte der altkirchlichen Literatur, vol. 4 (Freiburg: Herder, 1924),
pp. 86-91.
4 Jean Darrouzes, 'Eusebe d'Alexandrie', DSp 4, 1686-7.
5 B. Windau, in Siegmar Dopp and Wilhelm Geerlings, eds, Dictionary of Early Christian
Literature (New York: Crossroad, 2000), pp. 211-12.
6 S.J. Voicu, in Angelo Di Berardino, ed., Encyclopedia of the Early Church, 2 vols (Cam
bridge: James Clarke, 1992), 1, 298-9; Bardenhewer, p. 90, says the end of the fifth century.
128 E. Ferguson
The homily 'On Baptism' (PG 86, 372-80) has received even less notice
than the collection as a whole - in spite of there being a significant interest in
the interpretation of the baptism of Christ in the early church. Neither Robert
Wilken's important article, for instance, nor Kilian McDonnell's book refers to
Pseudo-Eusebius' work7. Wilken identifies four major contexts in which the
later Fathers reinterpreted the baptism of Jesus: Trinitarian and Christological
controversies; the Donatist controversy; the baptism of Christians; and the
liturgical tradition, especially on the Festival of Epiphany about the sanctifica-
tion of water. Our homily touches on three of these themes: there is no contact
with the Donatist controversy.
In regard to Wilken's fourth setting, this homily may be an Epiphany ser
mon. The author begins by saying that he spoke yesterday concerning the birth
of the Lord and comes now to speak concerning his baptism. (He addresses his
hearers as 'beloved' in the singular [373A]. Is this for rhetorical effect, or is it
indeed not a homily?) He affirms that Jesus 'needed no washing', for he was
sinless, but by his baptism 'he sanctified the nature of the waters8 and granted
to all the world purification, redemption, and forgiveness of sins'9. The bap
tism was the beginning of Jesus' manifestation to the world, because before
this time he did no signs and wonders (372C-D)10. The author elaborates on
John the Baptist's testimony to Jesus and hesitancy to baptise him (373B)11.
He adds that Jesus was baptised to give us an example (372D)12. Moreover, in
anticipation of the further contents of his message, the Son of God 'came to
baptism to abolish the power of the Enemy' (373A).
7 R.L. Wilken, 'The Interpretation of the Baptism of Jesus in the Later Fathers', SP XI
(1972), 268-77; Kilian McDonnell, Baptism of Jesus in the Jordan: The Trinitarian and Cosmic
Order of Salvation (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1996), anticipated in McDonnell, 'Jesus'
Baptism in the Jordan', TS 56 (1995), 209-36.
8 Ignatius, Eph. 18.2; Clement of Alexandria, Exc. Thdt. 77. The same phrase occurs in John
Chrysostom, De Bapt. Christi 2 (PG 49, 366); this and other similarities marked in the notes sug
gests an acquaintance with Chrysostom's sermon and would support the association of our work
with Epiphany (see my 'Preaching at Epiphany: Gregory of Nyssa and John Chrysostom on Bap
tism and the Church', CH 66 [1997], 1-17). The connection of Ps-Eusebius and Chrysostom is
further indicated by the former's sermons 16-20 also being ascribed to the latter - Bardenhewer,
p. 89; Nau, 'Diverse homeJies', pp. 407, 409-10, and 413-15 on number 16; also pp. 431-2 for
others.
9 Daniel Vigne, Le Bapteme de Jesus dans la tradition Judeo-chretienne (Paris: J. Gabalda,
1992), pp. 159-161, cites this passage last in a long list of Greek and Eastern authors who
affirmed that Jesus had no need of personal purification but that his baptism was for the purifi
cation of other human beings.
10 For the baptism as the time Jesus was revealed to the world, not his birth, see John
Chrysostom, De Bapt. Christi 2, 3 (PG 49, 366, 368).
11 As does John Chrysostom, De Bapt. Christi 3 (PG 49, 368-9). Note the progression in a
shared detail: John 'making [Jesus] known as if by a finger' (Chrysostom, PG 49, 368); John
'pointing with a finger' to Jesus (Pseudo-Eusebius, PG 86, 373A).
12 McDonnell, 'Jesus' Baptism', pp. 213-14, for Jesus' baptism as the order and image of our
baptism: Hilary, Mt. 2.5.
[Ps]-Eusebius of Alexandria, 'On Baptism [of Christ]' 129
The work touches lightly on the Trinitarian theme. Jesus did not testify con
cerning himself that he was the Son of God, but John testified to him (373A-
B). Moreover, the Father testified, and the Paraclete came. The devil too heard
the testimony of John, the Father speaking, and the Holy Spirit coming down
on the Son (373C-D)13.
The Christological theme is more prominent. The author imagines John the
Baptist protesting, 'The cherubim fear you. The seraphim praise you. The
heavens are in confusion, the earth fears on seeing you, the mountains shake,
and all these things fear your power.' His next sentence gives some indication
of the mode of baptism: 'How do I, a mortal, dare to touch your immortal
summit [head]? The clay has need of the care of the potter, the slave has need
of the help of the master. Wherefore, Lord, I dare not pour water over your
immortal summit' (373B). Jesus explains that he became a human being so
that the Jordan would receive him without the fear the elements feel in the
presence of their Maker.
The sermon/response develops extensively the 'mystery' of the divinity hid
den in the humanity, because of which the devil did not recognise Jesus as dif
ferent from any other person - born of woman, suckled at the breast, seated in
the bosom of his mother, and coming to baptism (373D-376A). The devil did
not understand that 'because of the transgression of Eve the Saviour came
forth from the virgin in order that the race of women might be set free from the
curse' (373D). Hence the devil did not think that 'the Word of God became
flesh and tabernacled among us' (376A) and that 'God dwells in a human
being' (376B). At the baptism the devil 'saw him only as one among human
beings and did not think he is the One going to baptise the world with the Holy
Spirit and fire' (376B). Only when the devil observed what occurred at the Jor
dan did he suspect that this was the Word at the beginning whom he disobeyed
and who caused him to fall down to the earth, yet he says, repeating the pagan
criticism of Christian doctrine, 'I do not believe that he who made a human
being with his own hands clothed himself with the flesh of humanity' (376C).
Wilken's theme of the relation of the baptism of Jesus to the baptism of
Christians leads into the principal concern of our author. Not only was the bap
tism of Jesus an example to be followed, but it was especially a demonstration
of victory over the devil. The account of the baptism of Jesus is preparatory to
the account of the temptation, and thus the emphasis is on the conflict of
Christ and the devil. Jesus gave the example of baptism 'in order that we
might trample on the devil in the water; for if we keep baptism undefiled, we
have power to trample on him', followed by a quotation of Luke 10:49
(372D). When the devil saw Jesus coming to baptism, 'He did not think that as
he [Christ] made Pharaoh and his army to drown in the sea, so also he would
13 McDonnell, 'Jesus' Baptism', pp. 214-17, on the event at the Jordan revealing the Trinity:
Ephraem, Hymn. Epiph. 6.1.
130 E. Ferguson
lead him [the devil] down with his demons into the Gehenna of fire through
baptism' (376A)14. Rather, he had 'expected to lock him up in Hades as also
the rest of human beings' (376B). The thought that Jesus might be the Christ
provoked the lamentation, 'Woe is miserable me that my power is checked.
My stings are despised. My strength is weakened' (376C).
Pseudo-Eusebius particularly plays up the contest between Christ and the
devil. And that was played out especially in Christ's temptations subsequent to
his baptism. Approximately the last third of the homily treats of the temptation
of Jesus. When the Lord saw the fear that overtook the devil after observing
the divine manifestations accompanying the baptism, he began to show his
human characteristics, hid his divine glory, and allowed the devil to tempt him
(376D-377A). The author does not follow either the Matthaean or Lukan order
of the temptations. Nor does he follow the Gospel text. He has the Lord take
himself to a high mountain. Then the Lord mocks the devil's temptation: 'Do
you promise to give the things created to the Creator of all? Do you promise
kingship to the King of Kings, to the One who offers salvation to kings?'
(377A). The devil devised this test since he knew the inclination of human
beings to covetousness. If Jesus were a human being, he would be made sub
ject to the devil; if he were God the Word, the devil would know what to do.
The Lord's answer, 'It is written, "You shall worship the Lord your God, and
him only will you serve" [Matthew 4: 10]', neither showed his divinity nor fol
lowed the humanity (377B).
The devil then tried another form of temptation, the first in both Matthew
and Luke, turning stones into bread. The author explains that it was not the
divinity but the form of a slave that was hungry. Once more the homilist
rhetorically plays up the irony of the temptation to the one who spoke the
heavens and earth into existence from nothing and provided manna to Israel in
the wilderness. Of course, the stones become bread at the Lord's command,
but in order that 'he might conquer [the devil] he does not say for the stones
to become loaves', but gives the answer of Matthew 4:4, 'A person does not
live by bread alone, but by every word of God' (377C-D).
The third temptation, also third in the Lukan order, was for the Lord to
throw himself down from the pinnacle of the temple. This time the Lord
'opened a small window of divinity' by his rebuke, 'Get behind me Satan'
(Matthew 16:23); 'You shall not tempt the Lord your God' (Matthew 4:7;
377D.
Pseudo-Eusebius' 'On Baptism' highlights the drama of salvation as a con
flict with the devil and deliverance from him. This was a prominent theme in
14 According to Pseudo-Eusebius, John the Baptist was the forerunner of Jesus not only in his
earthly ministry but also in his descent into Hades to free the souls there: Homilies 12 and 13,
studied in the light of this motif in early Christianity by Daniel Sheerin, 'St. John the Baptist in
the Lower World', VC 30 (1976), 1-22, at 16-22.
[Ps]-Eusebius of Alexandria, 'On Baptism [of Christ]' 131
the doctrine of the atonement in the patristic period15 and was prominent in the
interpretation of baptism, in which the typology of Israel's crossing the Red
Sea and Pharaoh's army drowning in it gave a significant point of reference in
scripture16.
In the early Christian interpretation of the baptism of Jesus a notable theme
not treated by Wilken was understanding the baptism as a descensus ad inferos
in which Jesus conquered and crushed Satan17. This was particularly true in the
interpretation of the passage of the Red Sea as a type of baptism18. Pharaoh
represented the devil, and the Red Sea itself was a symbol of the Abyss or
Hades. Two important conceptions were at work in this ancient typology:
crossing the waters of death and imitation of the Saviour who himself crossed
the same waters and so made a path for his followers through the waters of
death. These motifs were part of the early Christian baptismal ritual.
It is in this context of thought that we are to understand Pseudo-Eusebius'
description of the contest between the devil and Christ at his baptism and
temptations. Our author carries the idea of the baptismal contest further by
connecting it with the contest of the devil and Jesus in the temptation narra
tives that follow the baptism.
The author concludes by making the application of the Lord's actions to his
followers.
The Lord endured these testings by the devil because of us, not because he was unable
to thrust him away, but he hid the divinity in order that he might not banish the enemy
and that we foreigners might become sharers in the resurrection. Because of this he
was tested. For he was silent [about his divinity] indeed, in order that he might over
come the devil and summon us from his temptation. To him be the glory forever.
(380A)
15 Most famously advocated by Gustaf Aulen, Christus Victor, tr. A.G. Hebert (London:
S.P.C.K., 1931).
16 Jean Dani61ou, From Shadows to Reality: Studies in the Typology of the Fathers, tr.
W. Hibberd (London: Burns & Oates, 1960), pp. 175-201; H. A. Kelly, The Devil at Baptism:
Ritual, Theology and Drama (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985). Some patristic references
include Origen, Hom. Ex. 5.1-2; Cyril of Jerusalem, Cat. mys. 1.2-3; John Chrysostom, Hom,
in 1 Cor. 10:4.
17 Per Ivar Lundberg, La Typologie baptismale dans l'ancienne iglise (Leipzig: A. Lorentz,
1942), pp. 10-12; McDonnell, Baptism of Jesus, pp. 156-70.
18 Alluded to in our homily (376A) in the quotation before note 14. See Lundberg, Typologie,
pp. 116-35, who cites among others Tertullian, Bapt. 9; Origen, Hom, in Ex. 5-6; Cyprian, Ep.
68.15; Aphrahat, Dem. 12.6.
Severus of Antioch's Response to Heresy and
Religious Promiscuity1
James George, Oxford
In this communication, I want to draw attention to some of the ways in

which Severus of Antioch responded to heresy. I will argue here that those
responses were much more complex than we might expect from a 'disputa
tious polemicist', just one of the derogatory titles given to this bishop and the
ologian. I will try to show too, that careful study of Severus' letters can offer
important insight into the views and practices of this important bishop, and
into the kind of orthodox flock he was trying to create through his writings. To
achieve this I will draw exclusively from Severus' letters. My motives in this
are both to make the body of material more manageable and to gain a sense of
the bishop's response to heresy throughout his career, something which can
only be done through the use of his letters2.
The title 'disputatious polemicist' is one that has stuck firmly since Cardi
nal Grillmeier used it of Severus in his work Christ in Christian Tradition3. It
is a view that owes much to Ernest Honigmann's emphasis of political machi
nations within the Antioch see and more generally to the longstanding empha
sis on Severus' doctrinal works to the exclusion of his homilies and letters, an
emphasis which makes the title seem much deserved4. More recently, how
ever, works by Pauline Allen and others have begun to bring into clearer focus
the broader context of the pastoral care, administrative enterprise, and exeget-
ical activity that characterised this bishop's career, both during and after his
1 I am indebted to Alan Dearn, David Gwynn, and Scott Johnson for their valuable sugges
tions on this paper and to Pauline Allen, to whom I owe thanks for allowing me to read her paper
in advance of the conference.
2 All 125 of Severus' surviving homilies date from the period 512-18, and, despite problems
in dating some of his longer theological treatises, they all seem to come from the period 512-20.
For a broader perspective we must look to Severus' letters, which offer us a view of forty years
of his career from his time as a monk in Palestine to his death in 538.
3 A. Grillmeier, Christ in Christian Tradition, 11. From the Council of Chalcedon (451) to
Gregory the Great (590-604), 2. The Church of Constantinople in the Sixth Century, tr. P. Allen
and J. Cawte (Ixmdon, 1995): first published in German, 1989.
4 Honigmann's study pillaged Severus' letters for details of the bishops of the Antioch Patri
archal See. Despite gathering extremely detailed prosopographical information on the bishops,
his analysis of the material ends at the start of Severus' Patriarchate and picks up once again after
his death. See E. Honigmann, Eveques et eveches monophysite d'Asie anterieure au Vle siecle,
CSCO 127, Subs 2 (Louvain, 1951).
134 J. George
time as Patriarch of Antioch (512-18)5. As a result of this trend in scholarship

we can now view this bishop's response to heresy as just one part of his
broader pastoral role, a part which Severus himself interpreted metaphorically,
as the guiding and protecting of his flock from heretical wolves6. Despite this
progress, however, the view that Severus' response to heresy was straightfor
wardly polemical has been less easily dispelled.
Before we begin in earnest it is worth reiterating some words of caution.
Only a fraction of Severus' letters survive, and these cannot be considered rep
resentative of what the author wrote. The priorities of the collector are central
here. Anastasius of Nisibis was clearly looking for material that would be use
ful to bishops of his own period and beyond, and he translated Severus' letters
accordingly. The frequent evidence of clerical abuses or communities oppos
ing their bishop's wishes should not be read, as it sometimes has, as represen
tative of the situation throughout Severus' see or indeed throughout the East7.
Regardless of these problems, however, Severus' letters are a veritable gold
mine for the student of late antique heresy. His letters show clearly the many
forms of heresy that Severus encountered. There were the Gaianites in Alexan
dria, for example, or the bishops who were constantly defecting to the Chal-
cedonian position and then returning to the miaphysite one - groups requiring
very different responses. There were also figures such as Dionysius of Tarsus
or the clergy of Apamea, who could certainly be considered heretics, though
Severus did not treat them as such in his efforts to maintain control over them8.
Included here too, perhaps, could be the wife of the Patrician Calliopius. She
wrote to Severus to check if her views on the Trinity were correct, and judg
ing from the bishop's response, she was clearly in error. Despite this, Severus
wrote that he had positive knowledge that the woman was sound in faith9. No
doubt this wealthy correspondent attended the right orthodox services and
gave alms for the benefit of the orthodox poor. Little benefit could be had,
therefore, from treating her as a heretic.
Severus' letters are also full of evidence for people's motives in becoming
heretics or indeed in defecting from a heretical position to an orthodox one10.
Severus tells us, for example, that one whole community expelled its mia
5 P. Allen, 'Severus of Antioch as Pastoral Carer', SP XXXV, 353-67.

6 Severus of Antioch, The Sixth Book of the Select Letters of Severus, Patriarch of Antioch,
in the Syriac version of Athanasius ofNisibis, ed. and tr. E.W. Brooks, 4 vols. (London, 1902-4),
I.56, p. 171; see also I.4, p. 33; VII.2, pp. 171-2. Henceforth the Select Letters will be referred
to as SL.
7 W.H.C. Frend has overlooked these problems of collection in his analysis of Severus' let
ters. See W.H.C. Frend, The Rise of the Monophysite Movement: Chapters in the History of the
Church in the Fifth and Sixth Centuries (Cambridge, 1972), 223-8.
8 SL, I. 11, pp. 47-51.
9 SL, VII.7, pp. 382-3.
10 There are a number of references to such defections. See, for example, SL, VI. 1, pp. 363;
V.9, p. 323-4.
physite clergy and defected to the Chalcedonian position as a result of their

neglect and mistreatment at the hands of their bishop Musonius11. Elsewhere
we hear of the whole body of monks of one monastery who, upon the death of
their hegoumenos, all came over to the miaphysite position12. It is not clear if
it was respect for the leader or some other consideration which kept them in
the Chalcedonian position, but with his death the monks were free to change
sides. And suggestive, too, is the honour in which the bishop Cosmas of
Apamea was held. When Severus removed him from his position and broke
off communion with him, apparently as a result of his blasphemous outbursts,
the patriarch was begged by the notables of that city to reinstate the popular
bishop13.
Episodes such as these suggest the variety of factors, such as pragmatism,
popular piety, and respect, all of which could determine a community's alle
giance regardless of doctrinal concerns. Severus' letters show a clear concern
for just these kinds of extra-doctrinal issues, engaging with them in responses
to heresy. We get a clear sense of Severus' consciousness of these issues when
he writes,
But I find that the holy fathers also defended conspicuous men who are capable of
attracting many by their reputation, and this while knowing that those men did not
keep the accuracy of the faith . . .
It was this very concern, Severus goes on to say, which led Athanasius of
Alexandria to write in praise of the heretic Dionysius, out of fear that simple
people might be led to heresy through their affection for such a popular man14.
In this case of course, the bishop is referring to works of hagiography of pop
ular figures of the past, but living or dead Severus knew the popularity such
men could command.
The interest in ecclesiastical discipline that can be seen everywhere within
Severus' letters can also be understood, at least in part, as a response to heresy.
If, as we saw above, the laxity and abuses of bishops like Musonius could
cause defections, then preventing clergy from indulging in simony or loaning
money for interest or from other abuses would remove one route to heresy.
Yet another response can be seen in those letters which refer to the treat
ment of those who defected from the Chalcedonian position15. Pauline Allen
has noted that Severus strongly resisted the rebaptism of such individuals.
Instead, he required them to provide a written renunciation and undergo a
period of repentance16. Severus' various references to these written renuncia
11 SL, I.22, p. 77.

12 SL, VI. 1, p. 363; V.9, pp. 323-4.
13 SL, I.11, pp. 47-51.
14 SL, V.l 1, pp. 335-6: an opinion which Severus adopts from Basil of Caesarea.
15 SL, V.2, p. 282.
16 SL, V.13, p. 344.
136 J.George
tions give us an insight into the documentary nature of the controversy that we
are otherwise unlikely to hear about. As well, such references suggest a will
ingness to receive converts, something we might not expect in light of the
bishop's unyielding rhetoric. When these converts were important individuals
such documents could be used to great effect in continuing polemical
exchanges, and one bishop's refusal to provide such a document suggests this
is exactly the way they were being used17.
But lest we go too far in undermining the title 'disputatious polemicist', it
should be noted that his letters also display this side of Severus' response to
heresy. Still, it would be wrong to underestimate such polemic as mere name-
calling. Texts such as Severus' letters plugged into an existing system of
paideia that gave their contents authority before the addressee even began to
read18.
When Severus refers to supporters of the Chalcedonian position as Nestori-
ans, therefore, he employs a long-standing polemical technique, creating a
negative genealogy for the heresy in question. At the same time he makes clear
the set of ideas he does not want his own faithful to hold. Severus explains the
process as follows:
It is in fact a custom of the fathers to refer heresies to the roots from which they sprang
by way of reducing them to something shameful. Hence they called the corruption of
Arius idolatry, in that it exhorts us to worship a creature, and the wickedness of Sabel-
lius they termed Judaism, in that it includes the three substances in one person after the
Jewish fashion ...19
Helen Sillet has shown the way in which genealogies were used by
Theodoret of Cyrrhus for these same polemical purposes20. For Severus, then,
keen as he was in his homilies to emphasise the apostolic status of Antioch and
the greatness of its martyrs21, it must have been useful to have a negative,
heretical genealogy to contrast against his positive, orthodox one.
Another important topos Severus employs for this polemic purpose is the
use of language of illness. Following in the tradition of Epiphanius and others,
he frequently speaks of heresy as a sore that required healing. He then goes on
to portray the bishop as the physician who could heal such heretical sores with
17 SL, V.13, p. 344.

18 P. Brown, Power and Persuasion in Late Antiquity: Towards a Christian Empire (Wiscon
sin, 1992), esp. 76-112.
19 SL, V.6, p. 316.
20 H. Sillett, 'Orthodoxy and heresy in Theodoret of Cyrus' Compendium of the Heresies', in
Orthodoxie, Christianisme, Histoire, ed. Suzanna Elm et al., Collection de l'Ecole Franchise de
Rome 270 (Rome, 2000), 261-73; I am grateful to Alan Dearn here for his explanation of how
genealogy was used in Donatist and Catholic polemic in North Africa.
21 C.L. Spiessens, O.S.B., 'Les patriarches d'Antioche et leur succession apostolique', OrSyr
7 (1962), 389-434.
the guidance of the Fathers22. This kind of 'normalising' language has been
extensively discussed by Rebecca Lyman, who has shown how it was used in
reinforcing the negative connotations attached to heresy23. As Severus used it,
it marked out the heretical other and the ideas which he objected to in their
teachings, but it also placed him and his bishops at the very centre of the busi
ness of making clear the orthodox set of ideas.
In conclusion, then, Severus may well have been a 'disputatious polemicist',
but to use the term polemic in a sense of mere name-calling is to greatly
underestimate the purpose to which Severus sought to put it, of shaping his
own orthodox community. At the same time Severus was a pragmatist, aware
of the many concerns that might lead his flock into heresy, regardless of issues
of doctrine. I hope this short paper has shown some of the benefits of studying
both these concerns alongside one another, in order to better understand this
subject of orthodoxy and heresy in Late Antiquity.
22 SL, I.58, p. 176.

23 See J.R. Lyman, 'Ascetics and bishops: Epiphanius on orthodoxy', in Orthodoxie, Chris-
tianisme, Histoire, in 149-61. Rhetoricians of late antiquity were well aware of the usefulness of
the analogy between illness and heresy, as we shall see.
La Lettre 147 a Veconome Jean de Theodoret de Cyr:
Problemes historiques et prosopographiques
Jean-Noel Guinot, Lyon
La plupart des lettres de Theodoret, r6unies dans la Collectio Sirmondiana,

ont un contenu theologique et paraissent avoir ete redigees par l'eveque de Cyr
entre 447 et 451, c'est-a-dire dans les annees ou sa denonciation de l'heresie
d'Eutyches, entreprise avec YEranistes (447), s'est soldee, lors du Brigandage
d'Ephese (449), par la condamnation, la deposition et l'exil. Theodoret ne
renonce pas pour autant a poursuivre sa lutte contre le monophysisme euty-
chien, comme le prouve sa Lettre 147, la derniere du recueil1. II y denonce, en
effet, une manoeuvre adroite des partisans d'Eutyches pour imposer leurs vues,
consistant a interdire de nommer le Christ dans les doxologies sous pretexte
que seul le Monogene doit etre glorifie. Cet incident lui offre, en realite, l'oc-
casion d'affirmer, contre les partisans d'un monophysisme radical, a la fois
l'unite de la personne et la dualite des natures du Christ.
Les limites de cette communication ne permettent que de signaler la dimen
sion doctrinale et polemique de la lettre. II serait pourtant interessant de mon-
trer, a partir de l'argumentation developpee, comment Theodoret jette ici les
bases d'un veritable traite De Christo, destine a ruiner les theses monophysites
des eutychiens. Je me bornerai donc exclusivement a soulever quelques pro
blemes d'ordre historique et prosopographique. En effet, si la nature de l'inci-
dent, a l'origine de la lettre, est clairement indiquee, bien d'autres incertitudes
demeurent.
Les circonstances
Voici, relates par Theodoret, les faits qui l'obligent a sortir de sa retraite et
servent de pretexte a cette longue lettre doctrinale:
Bien des gens, en effet, a ce qu'on dit (8>q xiveq cpamv), repetent dans la ville (£v xt|
Tt6Xei) que, tandis que des pretres (rcpeaPuxepcov xivwv) avaient fait la priere et
l'avaient achevee par la formule habituelle, les uns ayant dit: 'A toi convient la gloire
et a ton Christ et a ton Esprit Saint', les autres: 'Par la grace et la bonte de ton Christ,
avec qui la gloire convient a toi et a ton Esprit Saint', le tres sage archidiacre (6 aocpeb-
Voir l'edition d'Y. Azema dans la collection 'Sources Chretiennes' (SC 111).
140 J.-N. Guinot
xaxo<; dpxi8iaKoVo<;) a declar6 qu'il ne fallait pas nommer le Christ, mais glorifier le
Monogfene2.
Et Theodoret d'ajouter, comme il se doit, lorsqu'il s'agit d'une information
rapportee par un tiers: 'Si cela est vrai, voila qui depasse toute impiete.'
L'econome Jean
Ce qui, dans ce rappel des faits, devait etre parfaitement clair pour le cor-
respondant de Theodoret ne l'est pas pour nous au meme degre. Non seule-
ment il nous est impossible d'identifier avec quelque certitude les informateurs
de Theodoret, mais nous ne savons rien de l'econome Jean a qui la lettre est
adressee ni du lieu ou il exercait cette fonction. Partageait-il la position du
'tres sage archidiacre', comme le pense Y. Azema3, ce qui nous parait diffici-
lement acceptable, ou s'est-il seulement laisse impressionner par son autorite,
au point que Theodoret ait eprouve le besoin de le conforter dans la foi ortho-
doxe? J'inclinerais plutot a penser qu'il fait partie du nombre des amis fideles
dont Theodoret, du fond de sa retraite, soutient le combat pour l'orthodoxie en
leur fournissant un dossier doctrinal qu'ils pourront utiliser contre les mono-
physites.
Un terminus a quo
La lettre fournit un terminus a quo relativement sflr. Puisque 'la dure tem-
pete' qui agitait l'Eglise depuis le Brigandage d'Ephese, et dont la correspon-
dance de Theodoret fait plus d'une fois mention, a pris fin, notre lettre est donc
posterieure a juillet 450, date de la mort de l'empereur Theodose II. La poli
tique imperiale, jusque-la favorable a Eutyches et au monophysisme, est aussi-
tot abandonnee par Marcien, le nouvel empereur, et par son epouse, Pulcherie.
Cette reaction en faveur de l'orthodoxie s'achevera quelques mois plus tard
par la convocation du concile de Chalcedoine.
Le monastere de Theodoret
S'il est clair aussi que Theodoret, au moment ou il redige cette lettre, se
trouve retire dans un monastere4, tous ne s'accordent pas sur son identification.
II nous parait peu vraisemblable que ce monastere puisse etre different de celui
Th6odoret, ep. 147 (SC 1 1 1, p. 200, 20 - 202, 1).

Voir SC 40, p. 41.
Cf. ep. 147 (SC 1 1 1, p. 200, 7-1 1).
La Lettre 147 a I'econome Jean de Theodoret de Cyr 141
de Nikertai, pres d'Apamee, ou il a trouve refuge au lendemain de sa condam-

nation a l'exil. II est difficile, en effet, d'admettre avec le P. Garnier qu'il
pourrait s'agir d'un monastere proche de la ville de Cyr, ou Theodoret se serait
retire apres le concile de Chalcedoine et d'ou, tout en ayant renonce a sa
charge d'eveque, il continuerait cependant a se preoccuper de la conduite des
affaires dans son ancien diocese5. Deja Lenain de Tillemont jugeait cette hypo-
these denuee de tout fondement6. Mais, si Theodoret se trouve bien, comme
nous le croyons, dans son monastere d'Apamene, faut-il pour autant tenir cette
lettre pour anterieure au concile de Chalcedoine et la dater du careme 451,
comme le propose Y. Azema a la suite de Tillemont7? Que savons-nous avec
certitude de la situation de Theodoret apres le concile de Chacedoine? A-t-il
aussitot regagne Cyr ou bien a-t-il prefere, au moins pour un temps encore, le
calme de son monastere? II est difficile de repondre avec certitude a cette
question.
La ville
II l'est peut-etre moins d'identifier la ville ou s'est produit l'incident. Tille

mont tient qu'il s'agit de la ville de Cyr8. Mais cette hypothese nous paratt fra
gile. Serait-il vraisemblable alors que Theodoret ait choisi de s'adresser a
I'econome de cette Eglise plutot que de reprendre directement son archi-
diacre? Tout porte a croire, en revanche, que l'expression utilisee - tv xf\
noXei - designe ici Constantinople, la Ville par excellence, celle dont il n'est
nul besoin de preciser autrement le nom. Theodoret aurait-il pu se contenter de
designer ainsi la ville de Cyr, dont il souligne ailleurs la petitesse et le peu de
lustre? D'autre part, quoi de plus naturel que de situer la scene a Constanti
nople, quand on sait les sympathies monophysites du patriarche Anatole, le
successeur de Flavien9? Ou, ailleurs qu'a Constantinople, l'incident pouvait-il
prendre un tel relief et alimenter a ce point les conversations? Quel autre
archidiacre que celui de la capitale pouvait occuper une position aussi en vue
et detenir une autorite comparable a la sienne pour que 1 'affaire ait pris de
telles proportions, qu'elle pousse Theodoret a sortir de son silence et justifie
une aussi longue epitre doctrinale?
5 Garnier, Historia Theodoreti XII.4 (PG 84, 153 BD).

6 Lenain de Tillemont, Memoir es pour servir a I'histoire ecclesiastique des six premiers
siecles, t. XV (Paris, 1711), art. 42, p. 310-311.
7 Ibid., art. 40, p. 304-305.
8 Ibid., Note XI, p. 874. Tillemont envisage, pour l'ecarter, l'hypothese qu'il pourrait s'agir
de la ville d'Apamee.
9 Lie a Cyrille d'Alexandrie, Anatole doit en partie a Dioscore son election au siege de
Constantinople.
142 J.-N. Guinot
L'archidiacre
Bien des incertitudes seraient donc levees si l'on parvenait a identifier ce

'tres sage archidiacre'. Le caractere ironique du qualificatif ne fait aucun
doute, comme l'atteste la presentation du personnage donnee quelques lignes
plus bas: cet homme 'qui occupe une premiere place dans l'Eglise' (xfj<;
£KKXr|aiacn;iK:fjc; Ttpoaxaxeuovxa xaêco<;) est si loin d'etre cKXpcbxaxo<;
qu'il parait ignorer les nombreux passages de l'Ecriture qui condamnent son
impiete10!
a) Eutyches?
Supposer, comme le fait Y. Azema, que cet archidiacre n'est autre qu'Euty-
ches ne nous parait pas recevable. Outre le fait que l' archimandrite ne semble
jamais avoir occupe la fonction d'archidiacre, il ne peut plus etre considere
comme quelqu'un 'qui occupe la premiere place dans l'Eglise', si la lettre
est posterieure a l'ete 450 et doit etre datee, comme le pensent Tillemont et
Y. Azema, du printemps 45 1. Des la mort de Theodose, il perd l'appui de Chry-
saphe dont se debarrasse l'imperatrice Pulcherie; les decrets du Brigandage
d'Ephese sont annules; Eutyches est expulse de son monastere et relegue dans
un faubourg de Constantinople. Bientot un synode reuni par le patriarche Ana-
tole le frappe meme a nouveau d'anatheme, puis le pape Leon, peu de temps
avant l'ouverture du concile de Chalcedoine, demande a Pulcherie de l'exiler
loin de Constantinople.
b) Aetios ?
En revanche, on connatt assez bien Aetios, l'archidiacre en fonction a
Constantinople a ce moment-la. II pourrait donc s'agir de lui, comme le pen-
sait deja le P. Garnier11. Archidiacre du patriarche Anatole, il assiste en cette
qualite au concile de Chalcedoine et c'est a sa demande que les Peres conci-
liaires adopterent le canon qui reglait la situation hierarchique de l'eveche de
Constantinople par rapport a celui de Rome, cela malgre les protestations des
16gats du pape. Etait-il cependant devoue aux interets d' Anatole au point de
seconder les sympathies monophysites du patriarche, en voulant imposer une
doxologie qui pouvait servir le parti eutychien a Constantinople? Cela est dif
ficile a croire et entrerait en contradiction avec ce que nous savons de l'acti-
vite anterieure d'Aetios. II avait siege comme diacre et notaire de Flavien au
concile de Constantinople de novembre 448, qui avait condamnc Eutyches, et
il en avait ensuite defendu les decisions dont Eutyches contestait la validite.
10 Ep. 147 (SCI 11, p. 202, 18 s).

11 Garnier, Historia Theodoreti XII.7-8 (PG 84, 155 B - 156 C). Tillemont le conteste (His-
Wire, Note XI, p. 875).
La Lettre 147 a l'econome Jean de Theodoret de Cyr 143
Plus tard, lorsque le patriarche Anatole l'aura demis de sa charge d'archidiacre

au profit d'un eutychien notoire, le diacre Andre, le pape Leon interviendra en
sa faveur aupres de l'empereur Marcien et de l'imperatrice Pulcherie, si bien
qu'Anatole sera contraint de le retablir dans sa charge. Cette intervention du
pape Leon, comme les nombreuses lettres que continuera a lui adresser le pon-
tife romain jusqu'en septembre 457, paraissent constituer a elles seules un bre
vet d'orthodoxie. Cela rend peu credible l'hypothese qu'il ait pu seconder de
la sorte les vues du patriarche Anatole.
Lui aurait-on alors indument prete de tels propos, comme semble le penser
le P. Garnier12? Mais comment l'aurait-on pu, s'agissant d'un homme dont
l'orthodoxie etait averee? Faut-il penser qu' Aetios ait pu 'ceder aux circons-
tances', a des pressions exercees sur lui par le patriarche, et qu'il ait agi 'par
crainte de la puissance des auteurs de l'heresie'? L'hypothese parait ecartee
par Theodoret lui-meme13, mais on ne saurait l'exclure totalement.
c) Andre?
Cela dit, il serait plus facile d'admettre que 'le tres sage archidiacre' n'est
autre qu'Andre, le successeur d'Aetios, eleve a cette charge par Anatole apres
la destitution de ce dernier14. Ce serait, en effet, plus coherent avec ce que
nous savons du personnage et de ses sympathies pour l'heresie d'Eutyches.
Comme Aetios, Andre avait lui aussi si6ge, en qualite de diacre, au concile de
448 preside par Flavien, qui avait condamne le puissant archimandrite, mais il
n'avait pas tarde a afficher la veritable nature de ses sentiments. Pour cela, il
fut meme prive un temps de sa dignite; mais il fut assez habile pour dormer au
pape Leon des gages d'orthodoxie et obtenir la faveur du patriarche Anatole,
qui lui confia la charge d'archidiacre retiree a Aetios15.
Le debut de la lettre fournit peut-etre meme un argument pour soutenir cette
identification. Theodoret dit avoir ete pouss6 a sortir de sa retraite et de son
silence en raison des 'nouveautes' (Kawoxouiav, KaivoxoueTaGal) repandues
'contre la foi de l'Evangile'16, dont il vient d'etre informe. On comprendrait
mal qu'il s'exprime de la sorte, s'il voulait seulement faire allusion aux decla
rations d'Eutyches, dont il a deja eu l'occasion, a maintes reprises, de denon-
cer le caractere heretique. Inversement, si la lettre est posterieure au concile de
Chalcedoine, les declarations du 'tres sage archidiacre', touchant les doxolo
12 Cf. supra, note 11.

13 Voir ep. 147 (SC 111, p. 202, 7-10).
14 La destitution d'Aetios dut intervenir fin 452 ou debut 453 (Cf. Ch.-J. Hefele et H.
Leclercq, Histoire des conciles, tome II (Paris, 1908), p. 851). D sera retabli dans sa charge par
Anatole, d6sireux de rentrer en grace aupres du pape Leon, au printemps 454 (ibid., p. 855)
15 Les sympathies d'Anatole pour le monophysisme, en depit de sa condamnation d'Eutyches,
sont averees et le pape Leon lui-meme ne nourrissait aucune illusion sur la fermete de son ortho-
doxie (v. g. Hefele - Leclercq, Histoire des conciles, tome II, p. 839-43).
16 Cf. ep. 147 (SC 111, p. 200, 10. 18).
144 J.-N. Guinot
gies, revetent un caractere de nouveaute, puisqu'elles tendent, de maniere

detournee, a remettre en cause les d6finitions conciliaires. Elles constituent
meme, au dire de Theodoret, un degre que n'avaient pas franchi jusqu'ici les
tenants de l'heresie monophysite, puisque meme eux 'n'ont pas defendu, dit-il,
de celebrer notre Maitre le Christ'. Une telle 'nouveaute' pourrait donc bien
etre le fait de l'archidiacre Andre, connu pour ses sympathies monophysites.
Si l'on retient cette hypothese, il faut alors necessairement situer la redac
tion de la lettre de Theodoret, non plus avant, mais apres le concile de Chal
c6doine, dans le courant de l'annee 453. Or, cela n'est pas sans consequences.
II faut admettre notamment que Theodoret n'a pas regagne Cyr au lendemain
du concile de Chalcedoine et de sa rehabilitation17, mais qu'il a prefere renon-
cer a l'episcopat et rejoindre aussitot, pour un temps ou definitivement, son
monastere d'Apamene. Cela s'accorderait bien avec les declarations qu'il avait
faites maintes fois apres sa deposition et son exil, et meme encore, lorsque
l'empereur Marcien eut rapporte les mesures prises contre lui18. D ne souhai-
tait, disait-il, qu'une seule chose: faire reconnaitre son orthodoxie et l' iniquite
de la sentence qui l'avait frappe. Dans les demarches qu'il entreprenait en ce
sens, n'entrait aucun desir de recuperer son siege et les honneurs qui y 6taient
attaches. On pourrait donc admettre, sans trop d'invraisemblance, que Th6o
doret, une fois son orthodoxie reconnue par le concile, ait choisi de se retirer
dans son monastere d'origine et de s'y consacrer a l'etude19.
Une seule chose peut donc etre tenue pour assuree: Th6odoret a redige sa
lettre apres la mort de Theodose, alors que l'empereur Marcien et l'imperatrice
Pulcherie avaient deja pris des mesures favorables a l'orthodoxie. On ne sau-
rait pourtant affirmer categoriquement qu'elle est anterieure ou posterieure au
concile de Chalcedoine. Dans un cas comme dans l' autre cependant, il est
exclu qu'Eutyches puisse etre le 'tres sage archidiacre'. II nous parait, en
revanche, vraisemblable d'admettre qu'il s'agit d'un archidiacre de Constanti
nople. Or, par chance, nous connaissons le nom de deux d'entre eux: celui
d'Aetios conviendrait bien du point de vue de la chronologie, que l'on date
l' incident des mois qui ont precede le concile de Chalcedoine ou de ceux qui
l'ont suivi, soit entre le printemps 451 et la fin de l'annee 452, mais moins
bien d'un point de vue psychologique; celui d'Andre, s'accorderait parfaite-
ment a ce que l'on sait du personnage et aurait pour cela notre pr6ference. Si
l'on retient cette derniere hypothese, il faut d'une part situer la r6daction de la
17 Le decret de l'empereur Theodose contre Flavien, Eusebe de Dorylee et Theodoret, ne sera

abroge que par l'edit de Marcien du 6 juillet 452 (voir Hefele - Leclercq, Histoire des conciles,
tome II, p. 845).
18 V.g. ep. 133 (SC 111, p. 126, 3-5); 138 (ibid., p. 140, 20-22); 139 (ibid., p. 146, 12-20).
19 Garnier, Historia Theodoreti XII. 1, (PG 84, 152 B).
La Lettre 147 a l'econome Jean de Theodoret de Cyr 145
lettre entre le debut 453 et le printemps 454, et admettre d'autre part que Theo
doret ait renonce, au moins momentanement, a regagner Cyr au lendemain du
concile de Chalcedoine, preferant aux soucis de la charge episcopate le calme
de la retraite dans son monastere d'Apamene.
Ni pour l'histoire de la crise monophysite, ni pour celle de l'eveque de Cyr,
les consequences de la datation retenue ne sont donc negligeables. Neanmoins,
quoi qu'il en soit des circonstances, Theodoret saisit l'occasion qui lui est don-
nee pour combattre les theses monophysites, en procurant a son correspondant
un veritable petit traite De Christo. C'est meme la, en realite, le principal inte-
ret de cette lettre-opuscule: Theodoret y prolonge en quelque sorte la lutte
engagee contre l'heresie d'Eutyches avec YEranistes. Du reste, des avant le
concile d'Ephese de 431, la defense du vocable 'Christ' est un des points forts
et une constante de son argumentation polemique contre toutes les formes de
monophysisme. User de ce vocable est, en effet, pour lui une maniere d'affir-
mer a la fois la realit6 de l'lncarnation et la permanence de l'union des deux
natures par-dela la R6surrection et l'Ascension. Interdire de 'nommer le
Christ', comme pretendait le faire l'archidiacre de Constantinople, et exiger de
'glorifier' seulement 'le Monogene' ne pouvait donc qu'obliger Theodoret a
sortir de son silence pour denoncer le caractere insidieux que revetait cette fois
une heresie qu'il combattait depuis qu'Eutyches avait commence a la profes-
ser.
Body and the Discursive in the Anthropology of
Dionysius the Areopagite and His First Scholiast
L. Michael Harrington, Dallas
Scholars of the pseudonymous writer known as Dionysius the Areopagite

have long claimed that the scholia which joined the Dionysian corpus within a
century of its appearance brought it safely into the realm of Christian ortho
doxy. This traditional claim takes for granted that the Dionysian corpus arose
within a heterodox environment: either the monophysite sects of Syria, or the
residue of Hellenic Neoplatonism, or both. Combefis' edition of the scholia
attributed them to Maximus the Confessor, and later scholarship paired them
with other works of his which interpreted controversial Dionysian claims in a
way consonant with the orthodoxy of the time. As a result, Maximus the Con
fessor gained the reputation, his only reputation for most of scholarly history,
of having won the Dionysian writings for orthodox Christianity. A. Ehrhard
wrote in 1897 that 'Pseudo-Dionysius has been introduced into the Greek
church through Maximus. He brought the Areopagite into harmony with the
traditional teaching of the church'1. Vladimir Lossky, in his 1944 work Essai
sur la Theologie Mystique de l'Eglise a"Orient, wrote of the Dionysian corpus,
'St. Maximus the Confessor wrested this weapon from the hands of the
heretics ... by demonstrating in his commentaries (or scholia) the orthodox
meaning of the Dionysian writings'2. Jaroslav Pelikan, in his 1987 introduction
to the English translation of Dionysius, wrote that 'it had been the historical
accomplishment of Maximus Confessor to purge Dionysian spirituality of the
interpretations that would have connected it to one or another heresy'3.
Portions of this traditional view have shown signs of weakening in recent
years. Paul Rorem and John Lamoreaux have disputed the claim that the
Dionysian corpus arose within monophysite circles in their 1998 work John
of Scythopolis and the Dionysian Corpus: Annotating the Areopagite4. The
1 Geschichte der Byzantinischen Literatur (Munich: C.H. Beck, 1897), 63. Cited by P. Sher
wood in Dictionnaire de Spiritualite, vol. Ill (Paris: G. Beauchesne et ses fils, 1935- ), 295.
2 The English translation may be found in The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church
(Cambridge and London: James Clarke and Co., 1957), 23.
3 Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works, tr. C. Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1987),
23. In Maximus Confessor: Selected Writings, tr. G.C. Berthold (New York: Paulist Press, 1985),
6, Pelikan argues that Maximus' integration of Dionysius into the orthodox tradition was not
achieved primarily in the scholia but in other works such as the Liber Ambiguorum.
4 Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998, 11-22.
148 L. M. Harrington
assumption that any Neoplatonic influence was an adulteration of Christianity

has been challenged by a battery of authors, and it is now possible to see
Dionysius as genuinely Christian and a genuine Neoplatonist5. The scholia
which are thought to have brought Dionysius into the orthodox fold are no
longer considered to be exclusively or primarily the work of Maximus the
Confessor. Hans Urs von Balthasar, in his 1914 article 'Das Scholienwerk des
Johannes von Scythopolis', presented evidence for attributing the earliest of
the scholia to John of Scythopolis6. More recently, Beate Regina Suchla has
corroborated and supplemented von Balthasar's evidence and analysis7.
While Dionysius' heterodox origins and the name of his first scholiast have
come into question, there remains the sense of this scholiast's unimpeachable
orthodoxy. If we take Dionysius to be heterodox, the scholiast has 'baptized'
him. If we take Dionysius to be orthodox, the scholiast has made that ortho
doxy explicit and relevant to the controversies of his age. There is more than
one way to incorporate Dionysius into the emerging orthodoxy of the sixth
century, though the scholiast's modern interpreters have not always acknowl
edged this. First, the scholiast may demonstrate that Dionysius holds orthodox
views on Christ and the Trinity, what we may call 'credal orthodoxy'. Second,
he may demonstrate that Dionysius means the same thing by the terms he uses
as his Christian contemporaries, that is, that they belong to the same school of
thought. Paul Rorem, the scholiast's chief interpreter in the English language,
has thoroughly shown in his 1997 article 'The Doctrinal Concerns of the First
Dionysian Scholiast, John of Scythopolis' how the scholiast demonstrates the
credal orthodoxy of Dionysius. Most frequently the scholiast simply adds to
Dionysian passages the claim that they oppose either the Nestorians, who
divide what should be united in Christ - his person - or the Acephalians, who
unite what should be divided in him - his natures. In many cases the scholiast
claims that the same passage refutes both Nestorians and Acephalians so as to
locate Dionysius squarely in the orthodox middle between the heterodox
extremes8.
There need be no question, then, of the scholiast's influence in either clari
fying or inventing the credal orthodoxy of Dionysius. The scholiast's credal
statements, however, tell us little or nothing about his understanding of the
5 See, for example, G. Shaw, 'Neoplatonic Theurgy and Dionysius the Areopagite', JECS 7:4
(1999), 573-99; A. Golitzin, 'The Mysticism of Dionysius Areopagita: Platonist or Christian',
Mystics Quarterly 19 (1993), 98-1 14; 'On the Other Hand', St. Vladimir's Theological Quarterly
34(1990).
6 In Scholastik 15 (1940), 16-38.
7 In 'Die sogenannten Maximus-Scholien des Corpus Dionysiacum Areopagiticum', NGWG.
Phil.-hist. Kl. (1980), 3: 33-66.
8 John of Scythopolis, 74-77; 'The Doctrinal Concerns of John of Scythopolis', in Denys
l'Areopagite et sa posterite en Orient et en Occident, ed. Y. de Andia (Paris: Etudes Augustini-
ennes, 1997), 193.
Body and the Discursive in the Anthropology of Dionysius the Areopagite 149
terms he uses. When the scholiast confesses the resurrection of the body, for
instance, we cannot assume that we know what he means by the terms 'resur
rection' or 'body'. While we will never have access to the mind of the scho
liast, we can at least advance our understanding of his terminology. We must
examine the theoretical framework that supports each term, and then set that
framework in relation to Dionysius, and ultimately, to the Neoplatonic schools
of thought current in his time. Little work has been done in this direction, and
it has not always been clearly distinguished from credal orthodoxy9. An exam
ple from the work of Paul Rorem will serve to illustrate the difference between
creed and theory, as well as the elision of the latter. In 'The Doctrinal Con
cerns of the First Dionysian Scholiast, John of Scythopolis', Rorem describes
what he takes to be an exemplary case of the scholiast introducing a credal
topic, in this case the body and its resurrection, into a Dionysian passage that
makes no explicit credal statement. Dionysius has said, in his eighth letter, that
Christ receives those who turn to him 'with his whole self embracing them
whole. ' 10 Dionysius is not here explicitly concerned either with incarnational
theology or eschatology. The scholiast, however, brings both into his com
ments on the passage. He says that Dionysius 'calls the Lord a "whole self",
because by taking on both soul and body he has saved us whole, meaning as
composed of soul and body'". The scholiast here ties a credal statement about
the incarnation - Christ takes on both a human soul and a body - to a credal
statement about our final state: we are to be resurrected as bodies as well as
souls. Rorem claims that these credal statements reveal the anthropology of the
scholiast, that is, what the scholiast means by human nature, its body and its
soul. Rorem says, 'John's theological convictions about Christ and the resur
rection of the body are implicitly grounded in a wholistic anthropology: Christ's
incarnation applies to the whole person, soul and body; humanity's afterlife
applies to the whole person, soul and body'12. Rorem's claim here illustrates
the difference between credal orthodoxy and thought. The scholiast's 'theo
logical convictions' are not the same as his 'anthropology', though they are,
Rorem claims, implicitly grounded in his anthropology. Neither in this 1997
article, however, nor in his book, published the next year, does Rorem investi
gate the anthropology of the scholiast or provide evidence for this claim that
the scholiast's credal statements yield insight into his anthropology. The
9 One exception is the scholiast's use of Plotinus, which has been documented and analysed
in W. Beierwaltes and R. Kannicht, 'Plotin-Testimonia bei Johannes von Skythopolis', Hermes
96 (1968), 247-51; W. Beierwaltes, 'Johannes von Skythopolis und Plotin', SP XI =TU 108
(1972), 3-7; R. Frank, 'The Use of the Enneads by John of Scythopolis', Mus 100 (1987), 101-
8; M. Harrington, The Problem of Paradigmatic Causality and Knowledge in Dionysius the Are
opagite and His First Commentator (Ann Arbor: University Microfilms, 2001), 159-66.
10 Ep. VIII 174, 7 (1088A).
11 PG 4, 545.8 (6-8).
12 "The Doctrinal Concerns of John of Scythopolis', 199.
reader must take as axiomatic that a credal statement arises from and makes
manifest a theoretical framework.
Needed, then, is a thorough study of the scholiast's anthropology, which
would allow us to do more than make conjectures on the basis of his credal
statements13. In what follows, I will draw the broad outlines of such a study,
with particular attention to the two aspects of our condition that distinguish us
as human beings: material embodiment and discursive reasoning. Since the
scholiast's valuation of these aspects of our condition is found ultimately not
in his assessment of our present life, but in whether or not he allows them to
our final perfected state, our discussion will necessarily focus on the eschato-
logical state of human nature. I will begin with a brief survey of Dionysius on
body and the discursive in our final state, since the scholiast's work arises as a
commentary on Dionysius, and since the scholiast is traditionally thought to
have, as Rorem puts it, a more holistic anthropology. Our study of the scho
liast's anthropology will reveal just the opposite. We will find that the scho
liast explicitly denies to our final state a material body and discursive reason
ing. Dionysius, on the other hand, asserts that we must have a material body in
our final state, and leaves open the possibility that we may reason discursively.
Dionysius
Early in On the Divine Names, Dionysius tells us that, in the eschaton, we

will use both sensation and thought to experience God. Of sensation he says
that 'we will be filled in most holy contemplations with his visible theophany,
which will shine its most apparent radiances around us as it did the disciples at
the most divine transfiguration'14. A facile interpretation might understand
Dionysius to mean that we will see the God above being with bodily eyes, but
the terminology here does not lend itself to such an interpretation. 'Theo
phany' is a technical term for Dionysius, and typically refers to God as visibly
manifest in symbolic form, not as above being. For instance, Dionysius
describes the appearance of the angel of the Lord to Manoah in Judges 13:17
as a theophany15. The transfiguration of the Lord is a theophany. The term may
also refer to the verbal symbols in the scriptures, so we should not be tempted
to assume that all theophanies involve luminescent human bodies16. The visi
ble theophany described here seems to refer to our sensuous experience of
13 Any such study is complicated by the fact that the scholia as found in Migne are the work
of many authors, and Von Balthasar and Suchla's identification of the early scholia with John of
Scythopolis ought to remain controversial. In what follows I will accept the hypothesis of a first
set of scholia authored by a single person.
14
DN 114,9-11 (592C).
15 £W 118,5 (596A).
it
ON 215, 14-15 (937B); 110, 16 (589A).
other bodies in our final state, when those bodies will reveal the divine as pre
sent in them. This sensuous experience requires the presence of our earthly
body, which Dionysius explicitly says will return to us in On the Ecclesiasti
cal Hierarchy: 'the pure bodies yoked to and journeying with holy souls,
enlisted and competing together with them in their divine labours, will receive
their own resurrection in the changeless grounding of their souls in the divine
life'17. To be rejected are four other possibilities - that bodies are destroyed,
that the link between soul and body is broken, that we receive other bodies,
and that our bodies will live then as they do now, eating and drinking. To
become capable of sensation without eating and drinking, the body will have
to change slightly, but not wholly. By becoming itself a 'member of Christ' its
lot (krfcyq) will become deiform (Geoei8fj), incorruptible, immortal, and
blessed18. 'Lot' is a technical term for Dionysius, describing first of all the
place we are given in the hierarchy of beings - anyone reading this paper has
been allotted a place relative to the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Our lot can change
in several ways. We may, first of all, change positions within the ecclesiastical
hierarchy. A catechumen may become one of the faithful, and a deacon may
become a priest. We may also change our lot by adopting characteristics of a
higher position without actually changing position in the hierarchy. In the
Ecclesiastical Hierarchy especially, Dionysius describes this kind of elevation
of lot, as when he says that the reason for the scriptural commandments is 'to
make a way for our elevation to a lot above the heavens'19. Only the angels are
by nature above the heavens; we remain always within the compass of the
heavens owing to our corporeality, but we adopt angelic characteristics. This is
in fact the very definition of a theophany, when an embodied nature takes on
the characteristics of a higher nature without losing its corporeality.
Our present, material body, then, has an essential role to play in our experi
ence of the divine, and so cannot be given up or exchanged for a somehow
immaterial body in our final state. Thought, too, is essential to our experience
of the divine. Dionysius says that, in the eschaton, we will share in God's
'intelligible gift of light in our passionless and immaterial mind'20. Is this 'pas
sionless' and 'immaterial' mind capable of discursive thought, or does it think
in the unitary manner of the angels? We cannot say for sure. On the one hand,
Dionysius sometimes divides knowing into only two types: one which begins
in the senses and ends in the mind - called 'passionate' - and another which
begins and ends in the mind - called 'passionless'. The former is our ordinary
mode of knowing as human beings; the latter resembles the unitary knowing
of the angels. If we may characterize knowing only by the passionate or pas
17 EH 121,1-4 (553A-B).
18 EH 121, 5-7 (553B). This list is repeated almost word for word at DN 114, 7-8 (592B-C),
the only change being that 'christoform' is substituted for 'deiform'.
19 EH 69, 2 (392A).
20 £W114, 11 -115, 1(592C).
sionless dichotomy, then our eschatological knowing must be the unitary

knowing of the angels simply because it is passionless, that is, no longer orig
inating in the senses. On the other hand, Dionysius elsewhere brings up a third
mode of knowing, one which is distinct from both unitary angelic knowing
and knowing based on sensation, and which he calls 'proper to the soul'21. In
this mode of knowing, 'the soul is illuminated with divine thoughts properly to
itself, not intellectively and unitedly, but rationally and discursively, and as
though with mixed and changing activities'22. The distinguishing feature of
this knowing is not its source - Dionysius does not say whether it originates in
the senses or comes directly from the divine - but its method. Whether the
soul receives illumination through the senses or directly from God, it never
theless thinks through that illumination by a mode proper to itself - a tempo
ral, varying mode. Dionysius again brings up this distinctive method of know
ing when he discusses the difference between angelic and human knowing in
Book Seven of the Divine Names. While the angels 'gather divine insight not
in divisible things nor from divisible things or the senses or discursive struc
tures', but are instead 'synoptic of divine intellections by their partlessness,
immateriality, and deiform unity', human beings 'possess the rational discur
sively, and revolve in a circle about the truth of beings'23. When he suggests
how human knowing may approach angelic knowing, however, Dionysius
does not suggest that we simply change the source of our knowledge. Instead,
he focuses on the transformation of our method of knowing: 'by an enfolding
of the many into one, they are made worthy of intellections equal to those of
the angels, insofar as this is proper to and fitting for souls'24.
In both these descriptions of discursive knowing, Dionysius suggests a rela
tive independence between source of knowledge and method of knowing. If
we desire angelic knowing, we must change both the source of our knowing -
it must not originate in the senses - and the method of our knowing - it must
be synoptic rather than discursive. When Dionysius describes our eschatologi
cal mode of knowing as 'passionless and immaterial', he is saying only that
such knowing does not originate in the senses, not that it is necessarily synop
tic. That is, our eschatological mode of knowing may be passionless, immate
rial, and discursive. Dionysius is able to distinguish two methods of knowing
without also requiring two different sources of knowing because he thinks of
each level of the hierarchy as differentiated primarily in itself, and not by its
relation to something outside it, for instance, a different source of knowledge.
That is, Dionysius does not primarily distinguish a bishop from an archangel
by their differing relation to the body. The bishop simply is in a more diverse,
21 DN 153, 17 (705B).
22 DN 153, 17 - 154, 1 (705B).
23 DN 195, 4-13 (868B). The metaphor of the circle here derives from Proclus, In Parm.
24 DN 195, 14- 17 (868C).
manifest fashion what the seraphim is at a greater level of uniformity. Each

level of the ecclesiastical and angelic hierarchies, in fact, distinguishes itself
by its special degree of multiplicity. This structuring of reality as a hierarchy
extending by degrees from the more unitary to the more multiple is a charac
teristic feature of all Neoplatonism, but in most Neoplatonists it stands in ten
sion with a second structuring of reality into relatively homogenous sensible
and intelligible realms. While Dionysius does not entirely avoid the tension
between these two ontological structures, his complex hierarchical system
privileges the graduated distinction between unity and multiplicity as constitu
tive of reality, a distinction which then precedes and grounds the secondary
distinction of intelligible and sensible. Human beings are essentially different
from angels by the degree of multiplicity inherent in their nature, and only sec
ondarily by their relation to the sensuous world. Owing to the inherent multi
plicity of human nature relative to the angels, it becomes possible in the
Dionysian system to see discursive knowing as a likewise essential part of
human nature.
The Scholiast
We have seen how in Book Seven of On the Divine Names Dionysius dis
tinguishes the angelic mode of knowing from the human. The scholiast uses
this discussion as an occasion to formulate his own distinction between angelic
and human modes of knowing. He says that 'the intellections of the divine
minds are not in our kind of discursions, into which discursions our mind
descends'25. The Dionysian phrase 'our kind' (koG' f|ua<;) recurs here in the
scholiast to indicate that the scholiast is describing what ordinarily pertains to
us, not all we are capable of. Our ordinary mode of knowing, for the scholiast
as for Dionysius, is discursive. But the scholiast introduces a new feature of
discursive knowing: the descent of the mind. The bits and pieces of this the
ory emerge over the course of the scholia on the Divine Names, allowing us to
understand both the nature of the descent, its origin, and its destination.
The origin of the descent is the mind in itself, conceived as separate from
any of the thoughts it thinks. The scholiast tells us that 'thoughts are lower
than the thinker, being thought and comprehended, and are naturally a scatter
ing and partitioning of the unity of the mind itself'26. Since Dionysius nowhere
describes the human mind as a unity, we know already that the scholiast is
building a different cognitive structure for the soul. In describing the nature of
thoughts, the scholiast already hints at what he thinks the descent is. Thoughts
are a 'scattering and a partition of the unity of the mind'. To think, then, the
25 PG 4, 344.3(12-14).
26 PG 4, 344.1 (3-6).
1 54 L. M. Harrington
mind must divide itself. The scholiast elsewhere describes an additional reason
for the descent. Not only is the mere thinking of one as different from another
a division, requiring the mind to leave its own unity, but the mind cannot
become convinced of anything in the first place without the demonstrative
process that occurs in reasoning. He says that 'the mind, descending into rea
sonings, is as though divided, and needs a discursive reasoning through many
examples in order to establish what it has thought of'27. The human mind is
unable simply to behold the truth of a thought. Instead, it needs proofs to
establish the thought as more than a mere delusive figment of the mind.
Important for the scholiast's understanding of the mind is that the mind can
not itself become divided. It must remain the origin of the descent and not the
subject of the descent, since it is higher than its thoughts. For a human being
to think discursively, it requires something other than the mind, something
which can become divided. The scholiast discovers this something in the
ancient doctrine of the TtveCua, the living breath which belongs somewhere
between the soul and the body28. Though rcveC|ia is generally translated as
'spirit', I will leave it in Greek in the following discussion, since the English
word often refers to something that is, unlike the scholiast's TtveCua, immate
rial and not directly related to sensation. The scholiast does not borrow the
rcveCua doctrine from Dionysius, who never mentions the TtveCua in the con
text of sensation and reasoning, and shows no interest in the term generally.
Dionysius uses it once when quoting from the scriptural letter to the Hebrews,
where the word of God is described as 'penetrating even to the partition of
soul and rcVeCua, and of joints and marrow'29. Dionysius uses this passage to
demonstrate the divine name of 'smallness'. We may call God 'small' because
he 'advances unhindered into all things and through all things'30, even through
the gap between soul and rcveC|ia, joints and marrow. The scholiast chooses to
comment on the scriptural passage rather than on Dionysius here. He does not
refer to the divine name of 'smallness' at all, but comments at length on the
division between soul and Ttveuna mentioned in the passage Dionysius
quotes31. The scholiast tells us that God, as medium, advances
even between soul and rcveOua, that is, the Ttveuua in which we have fixed our senses,
through which the soul applies itself to the senses, and we possess a reasoning faculty
for our inquiries. The wise among the Greeks call this rcveOua a power and a kind of
27 PG 4, 257.4 (7-10).
28 On the Ttveuua, see M. Nussbaum, Aristotle's De Motu Animalium (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1978), 143-64; W. Jaeger, 'Das Pneuma im Lykeion', Hermes 48 (1913), 31-
70.
29 Hebr. 4:12.
30 DN 209, 3 (912A).
31 A scholium (PG 4, 372.1) not found in any of the early manuscripts does comment on the
name of 'smallness'.
second sensitive soul. This same sensitive soul is what penetrates as far as the marrow,
the veins, the arteries, the bones, and the whole body32.
The rcveCua, according to the scholiast, has two functions: it connects the
soul to the senses, and it serves as the place of reasoning. The 'wise among the
Greeks' needed the rcveCua in its first capacity because of the conceptual dif
ficulty of directly associating the immaterial with the material. It is not easy to
see how a thought can move a body mechanically. It seems to have no power
to push. The TtveOua solves this problem by possessing characteristics of both
the material and immaterial. It can take up space like a body, penetrating 'as
far as the marrow, the veins, the arteries, and the whole body', as the scholiast
says. But it is also invisible, like the immaterial. It thus occupies a middle
place among the causes of motion, which extend from the immaterial soul,
through the nearly immaterial rcveCua, the more material bodily fluids like
blood, and reaching finally the properly material flesh and bones.
Because the rcveCua takes up space, it is also capable of division, and so can
be the place where the mind divides itself. In Book One of the Divine Names,
Dionysius says that, as a result of the divine partlessness, 'our divided differ
ences are folded together in a manner beyond this world'33. Prompted by this
mention of division, the scholiast explains how we become divided in the first
place. As we have already seen, the soul is divided when it turns to thinking or
to sensing. The scholiast here reiterates that this division occurs in the rcveCua.
He says,
the soul turns to the rcveCua, in which the senses and the reasonings are fixed. Through
them, we reason through the objects of inquiry . . . When the soul has turned to this
TtveOua, it turns also to the senses that are in the rcveCua, and through them, it turns to
the body34.
The scholiast here conceives of discursive reasoning differently than does
Dionysius, who does not mention the soul/rcveCua distinction, but suggests
that the soul itself is unfolded into multiplicity. Discursive thinking for Diony
sius does not automatically turn to the body, but is simply a divided form of
thought appropriate to a divided soul.
Though the division of the mind occurs in the rcveCua, we should not for
that reason assume that the rcveCua is a form of mind or of soul, at least in the
sense we have been speaking about them. The scholiast, like the ancients, does
consider the rcveCua to be a form of soul, but not the incorruptible form of
soul that we find in the mind. The rcveCua can control vegetative functions
like growth and reproduction, as well as sensitive functions like sensation and
32 PG 4, 372.2(11-20).
33 DN 112, 13-4 (589D).
34 PG 4, 193.5 (7-13). I have omitted a line in which the scholiast again claims that this
Ttveuua is the TtveCua referred to by the apostle Paul in his letters.
imagination, but it does not have the purely incorporeal nature that the mind
does. The scholiast makes clear that he follows the ancients on this point when
he comments on Dionysius' discussion of the divine name of 'life'. Dionysius
says of the divine life that 'when it is taken away, according to the scriptures,
all life is eclipsed'. Dionysius is referring here to the 104th psalm, which says,
'Take away the rcveuua and they die and return to their dust'35. While Diony
sius interprets this rcveuua as the life of God, without which no life can sur
vive, the scholiast interprets this rcveCua as the living breath described in
ancient psychology, and he claims to speak for Dionysius as well. The scho
liast tells us,
the lives of the irrational animals and plants are not divine, but are made of TtveCua
and fire in matter. It is concerning these last lives alone, as has been said, that David
says: 'take away their rcveuHa and they die and return to their dust.'... For the great
Dionysius takes the divine writings to say these things only about the sensible soul and
vegetative life. For he does not understand these things of our life or of intelligible life.
For God created this life substantially, for immortality36.
The scholiast here has radically altered the Dionysian claim that all life
depends on participation in the divine life. Irrational animals now depend
immediately on their TtveCua, which, since it exists in space, is perishable. The
irrational animal soul dies with its body. The human soul, on the other hand,
does not possess a perishable life, but a substantial life. Dionysius nowhere
uses the phrase 'substantial life', whether he speaks of angels or humans. He
prefers to characterize life as a gift given by the divine life to everything. Of
the angels, he says that the divine life 'more than extends to the more than
heavenly lives an immaterial and deiform and inalterable immortality'37.
Humans can participate in this immortal life only because the divine life 'gives
to men a life of angelic form, as far as possible for composites'. We do not
then possess immortal life as a characteristic of our substance. We expect to
receive it from the divine life which, Dionysius says, 'has announced that it
will transform us as wholes, I mean souls and the bodies yoked with them, into
perfect life and immortality'. This is the change of lot, or A,fjî<;, that we have
already seen. It is not a change of our substance, which remains composite,
and so engages in both sensation and thought even in its perfection.
Now that we have identified the rcveCpa as the site of discursive reasoning
in the scholiast, and seen how the mind remains unified and separate from it,
we ought to look at the nature of the human mind. It is the mind, after all, that
survives the death of the body and its rcveCua and is directly responsible for
our immortality. The scholiast has described both the angelic intellect and the
human soul as 'substantial life'. He later clarifies what he means by this
35 Ps. 104:29.
36 PG 4, 336.4(8-19)
37 DN 191, 10-2 (856C).
phrase. He says, 'They possess a substance which is life, like a kind of matter
and substrate and form itself, which is the subsistence of life'38. The scho
liast's expression here presents some difficulties. Much of ancient philosophy
regards life as a formal principle. The soul, or life, is the form of the body, and
the body is the matter or substrate of the soul. Yet here the scholiast says that
life itself is 'a kind of matter and substrate'. To sharpen the difficulty, the
scholiast in the same breath says that life is 'a kind of matter and substrate',
and that it is 'form itself (atrcoei8o<;)'. The scholiast can accomplish this feat
of juxtaposition because he understands and makes use of the Neoplatonic
concept of 'immaterial matter'39. The concept of immaterial matter depends on
an analogy drawn by the Neoplatonists between the sensuous and intelligible
worlds. Objects in the sensuous world have something in common based on
their materiality. Because they have matter in their composition, they can
interact with each other, even if their forms are entirely different. The form of
a cat and the form of a mouse, for instance, share very little, but a living cat
can eat a living mouse because they both have a material substrate which
allows them to interact. Objects in the intelligible world are not composites,
but are entirely form. It is, then, difficult to explain how they are able to con
stitute the same world together, and not constitute as many different worlds as
there are forms. In other words, how are intelligibles able to interact with each
other? The scholiast answers this question by finding in the intelligible world
a substrate comparable to matter in the sensuous world. Since there is no mat
ter, properly speaking, in the intelligible, this substrate can only be form. The
scholiast says, 'Things of the same rank and substance, like the cherubim and
seraphim and the other ranks, are like each other according to a preceding
form. This form in the intelligibles is like a kind of immaterial matter which
serves as a substrate'40. The scholiast here nominally preserves the Dionysian
distinction between nine ranks of angels, and between angels and human
beings, but he also posits a single underlying substrate common to them all.
This single substrate gives to the scholiast's intelligible realm a homogeneity
that we do not find in the intelligible ranks of Dionysius.
The scholiast elsewhere tells us that the substrate which is the life of the
intelligible beings is also the intellectual activity of God: 'the ideas and para
digms which are the eternal intellections of the eternal God, perfect in them
selves, as we have said, are considered to be like elements, and principles, and
immaterial and bodiless matter of those that participate the ideas themselves'41.
38 PG 4, 340.2 (7-9).
39 On immaterial matter, see Dmitri Nikulin, 'Intelligible Matter in Plotinus', in Dionysius 16
(1998),85-114.
40 PG 4, 377.3 (9-13).
41 PG 4, 316.4 (37-41). Following Rorem and Lamoreaux, Annotating the Areopagite, 219,
n. 80, and manuscript Florence, Bibl. Laurenziana, Conventi Soppressi, cod. 202, 1 have omitted
the Kai following u,exex6vx<ov.
158 L.M.Harrington
The thoughts of God are the immaterial matter of the angels. Because they
possess intellectual activity as their very being, the angels do not have to
descend into sensation in order to think. Instead, as the scholiast says, 'angels
intellect from themselves and in themselves, since they are deiform'42. The
term 'deiform' is not used here for the sake of veneration, but is a literal
description of the angelic being. The angels have the form of God, and so they
are able to think his thoughts. If they were able to cause this form within them
selves, they would be thoroughly self-subsistent and would not be deiform, but
would be God himself. As it is, in one and the same scholium, the scholiast
can say both that the angels 'intellect from themselves and in themselves' and
that the angels 'possess this intellective activity as something imported from
God their author'43. God is the cause of his thoughts. These thoughts are the
very being of the angels, and so they think by looking into themselves.
So far we have been speaking of human souls and angels as though they
were the same, and the scholiast has given us some licence to do this by group
ing the two under the single heading of 'substantial life'. The scholiast goes
still further, claiming that the distinction between human and angelic knowing
is transient and accidental. Dionysius has distinguished the two through his use
of the term reason (koyoq) for human knowing and intellect (vou<;) for angelic
knowing. The scholiast eliminates this distinction. He says, 'Reason is intel
lect, according to which the soul is called intellective by declension after the
angels'44. If reason is not substantially different from intellect, then we may
well wonder what distinguishes us from the angels. It turns out to be an acci
dental distinction, one we have been speaking of for quite some time. Our
activities presently have a relation to the body, even our pre-eminent activity,
the activity of thought. Though the mind remains one and immaterial, it relates
itself to the rcveCua in order to think, and so we give that thought process a
new name, calling it rational rather than intellectual. The scholiast explains,
'Human souls are rational because they have a relation to the body, just as the
sensuous man does. For if, as the Apostle says, the inner man alone is active,
that is, the soul, having no relation at all to the body, then the man is intellec
tual'45. The scholiast here expresses the possibility, elsewhere revealed to be
primarily an eschatological possibility, that the human mind may become
active, 'having no relation at all to the body'. When this occurs the mind no
longer merits the name rational, and may truly be called intellectual. The ref
erence to the 'inner man' described by St Paul is the scholiast's own46. Diony
sius never refers to St Paul's distinction between the inner man and the outer
42 PG 4, 345.3(21-22).
43 PG 4, 345.3 (7-8).
44 PG 4, 357.2 (10-12).
45 PG 4, 249.2 (5-10).
46 St. Paul refers to the 'inner man' at Rom. 7:22; 2 Cor. 4: 16; Eph. 3: 16.
Body and the Discursive in the Anthropology of Dionysius the Areopagite 1 59
man, and St Paul does not specify, as the scholiast does, that the inner man is
the soul.
The exercise of thought 'having no relation at all to the body' is an extraor
dinary circumstance in our present lives. The scholiast describes it at length
only in the case of Moses. In his famous discussion of Moses' ascent up Mt
Sinai in the Mystical Theology, Dionysius concludes the ascent with Moses'
step beyond knowledge into the darkness above the mountain: Moses
abandons all knowing awareness, and comes to be in what is wholly impalpable and
unseen. He belongs entirely to what is beyond all things and to nothing, neither him
self nor another. He is united to what is entirely unknowable to all knowing, by an
inactivity for the better. He knows beyond mind by knowing nothing47.
The scholiast presents his own paraphrase of this final stage while, as we
will see, he makes essential modifications to it: Moses
abandoning all knowing awareness, came to be in the impalpable and unseen mind of
the God beyond all knowing awareness. United through such a means to unknowing
and inactivity - I do not mean inactivity of his own mind, nor inactivity of another so
that neither he nor the other could think anything - but united to what is entirely
unknowable to all knowing of what is beyond all things, he then knew the all by
unknowing48.
The scholiast makes several modifications to Dionysius here. Dionysius
identifies the location of Moses simply as 'what is wholly impalpable and
unseen'. The scholiast specifies that this is the 'impalpable and unseen mind of
God'. In saying this the scholiast already elides the difference between the
cognitive ascent and the union beyond cognition. The final level of ascent is
no longer beyond mind, but remains cognitive. Second, Dionysius has said that
this union occurs 'by an inactivity for the better'. It is difficult to know what
Dionysius could be referring to here if not inactivity of the mind. Yet the scho
liast denies this, saying, 'I do not mean inactivity of his own mind, nor inac
tivity of another so that neither he nor the other could think anything'. We nat
urally conclude from the scholiast's modifications that Moses has not
abandoned intellectual activity, but adopted a higher level of activity, one
dependent on direct participation in the divine mind. Dionysius concludes the
ascent by saying that Moses 'knows beyond mind by knowing nothing'. The
object of the Dionysian ascent here is God, who is known by not knowing. The
scholiast, on the other hand, concludes the ascent by saying that Moses 'then
knew the all by unknowing'. The object is no longer God, but the cosmos, now
known by participation in the 'impalpable and unseen mind of God'. As we
have already seen, this direct participation can occur because the mind of God
is the substrate of the human soul, though only in special cases like that of
47 MT 144, 11-15(1001A).
48 PG 4, 421.1 (9-17).
Moses can a human being use that substrate as a source of knowledge while
attached to an animal body.
The presently extraordinary state of thinking as a bodiless mind will become
our ordinary state of thinking after the resurrection. The scholiast does not
deny that we will have a body in the resurrection, but he arrives at a novel con
clusion regarding the nature of this body by introducing and carefully inter
preting a passage from St Paul's first letter to the Corinthians. St Paul has said
of the body, 'It is sown an animal body; it is raised a spiritual body'49. He has
thus provided a simple but arcane formulation of the difference between our
present body, the animal one, and our future body, the spiritual one. The scho
liast clarifies the nature of these two bodies in describing human beings in the
eschaton:
they have come to be equal to the angels (Ictdyyea.oi) through the resurrection, and no
longer possess an animal body, as the Apostle says, meaning one inhabited and moved
by a soul, but a spiritual body, meaning that they have been released from the senses
and the manifold diversity of reasonings through the tremendous pouring of the All-
holy Spirit into them50.
The animal body as described by the scholiast requires no great effort to
understand. It is the habitation of the soul, and is moved by that soul. The spir
itual body differs so radically from the animal body that we are at some pains
to see how the same term can apply to them both. The possession of a spiritual
body seems simply to mean that we no longer relate to the animal body at all.
We are 'released from the senses and the manifold diversity of reasonings'.
These two, sensation and reasoning, were precisely the two functions of the
TtveOua, which mediated between the soul and the body. Now that connection
is broken. How can we still be said to have a body at all? The answer lies in
the scholiast's final statement, that the resurrected human beings are freed
from the functions of the rcveOua 'through the tremendous pouring of the All-
holy Spirit into them'. The animal body was the place of the soul; the spiritual
body is the place of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit allows us to continue to
engage in the activity of knowing, even though we no longer possess an ani
mal body with its sense organs or a rcveCua with its capacity for discursion.
After the resurrection, we receive our knowledge through the Spirit of God.
The scholiast says openly that there will be no sensation in the resurrection.
After describing the powers of the soul connected with the body, like sensa
tion, imagination, memory, and desire, he says that 'after death the mind alone
will be what acts, while these will be useless'51. When the scholiast says that
we will become 'equal to the angels', he uses the Dionysian term, ladyyeA,oi,
but Dionysius is careful to avoid saying that we ever become equal to the
49 1 Cor. 15:44.
50 PG4, 193.1 (12-19).
51 PG 4, 320.3 (53-4).
angels. This would necessitate a change in substance, whereas Dionysius

wishes only to affirm a change of lot for us. Dionysius says of those humans
who can enfold the many into one, 'They are made worthy of intellections
belonging to those who are equal to the angels (lodyjBXoi), in so far as this is
possible and appropriate for souls'52. Dionysius is careful to say, not that we
can become equal to the angels, but that our intellections can. Likewise, he
adds his usual qualification at the end: 'in so far as this is possible and appro
priate for souls'. We can perform the activities of higher beings, but this
occurs within the framework of our own nature. We do not lose our humanity
in our perfection.
The scholiast's anthropology rests ultimately on his conception of reality as
divided primarily into intelligible and sensible being. The scholiast stands near
one pole of the Neoplatonic tension between two competing structures of real
ity - reality as primarily divided into relatively homogenous intelligible and
sensible realms, and reality as primarily a series of levels extending from the
more unitary to the more multiple. Dionysius, by favouring the latter structure,
is not pressured to locate human nature essentially within either the realm of
thought or of body. Instead, human nature may in its very essence, and so in
its perfection in the eschaton, participate in both realms. As we have seen,
Dionysius explicitly affirms that we will be materially embodied in the escha
ton, and he leaves open the possibility of discursive knowing in the eschaton.
The scholiast, on the other hand, identifies human nature as intellectual, con
sidered as opposed to the sensuous, and so thinks of and openly describes the
body as an ultimately useless accretion to our intellectual essence. His anthro
pology is thus far less holistic than that of Dionysius and subverts many of the
credal statements he adds to the work of Dionysius, particularly those relating
to the resurrection of the body. On this point, the traditional story of the scho
liast's 'baptizing' of Dionysius, as well as the recent work of Paul Rorem and
John Lamoreaux, must be supplemented and, to some extent, corrected.
52 DN 195, 14-6 (868C).

Delineating Identity in the Second and Third Century CE:
The Case of the Epistle of Paul to the Galatians 4:21-31
in the Writings of Hippolytus
Petra Heldt, Jerusalem
The contributions of B.P. Reardon, David Dawson, and Frances Young1,

among others, have shown how literature of the second and third centuries CE
must be read with the higher text criticism of that period in mind. Through the
use of mimesis in conjunction with paideia, the Greek culture of the past pro
vided the stage on which the Roman citizen of that period could act creatively.
Mimesis provided guidance, allayed suspicions of undue originality, and
implied lack of interest in Roman culture, with the aim of provoking changes
in cultural perceptions through recourse to classic precursors. The dynamism
behind those changes lay in the author's skopos which steered the mimesis.
The innovative force of the mimesis functioned such that historical figures and
events provided a model and were taken over and made one's own. The inten
tion, therefore, was to employ the form of the past and fill it with a current
content of interest. The result is that the new fashion looks old, since it pur
ports to honour tradition rather than to depart from it.
In my recently completed doctoral thesis, I was able to confirm the correct
ness of this approach in respect of how Paul's Epistle to the Galatians 4:21-31
was read by authors of the second and third centuries CE. On the basis of more
than eighty discussions of that passage by those authors, I was able to come to
three main conclusions.
First, in modern times the Pauline passage has commonly been read as if it
had been composed as an allegory giving expression to an attitude of Chris
tians versus Jews. This reading was prompted by the occurrence of the word
allegoroumena in verse 24. In the second and third century CE, however, there
are two distinct kinds of allegory. It may function as an occasional tool - to
read a word or a short phrase for something else. Or it may appear as a sys
tematic method - to develop a meta-story with a beginning, a plot and an end2.
1 B.P. Reardon, Courants litteraires Grecs des lie et Hle Stecle Apris J.-C. (Paris: Les Belles
Lettres, 1971); David Dawson, Allegorical Readers and Cultural Revision in Ancient Alexandria
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992); Frances Young, Biblical Exegesis and the For
mation of Christian Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).
2 Cf. Dawson, Allegorical Readers, pp. 1-23, in particular pp. 9-11, where Dawson discusses
the role of the method of allegory in cultural accommodation and criticism. For allegory as a tool,
164 P. Heldt
I found that the ancient authors never treated the Pauline passage in the second
manner.
Second, I observed that there are, properly speaking, no discussions of the
passage as a whole, but rather only discussions focusing on individual verses
or at most a group of verses. Moreover, the same subject matter is consistently
attached to the same verse, not only by any individual author but similarly by
all authors discussed. Verse 26 always discusses the notion of 'Jerusalem
above' as a particular place of living for a variety of reasons. Verse 27 follows
the matter of a 'people' and discusses its attitudes and definitions in view of its
religious aims. Verses 21-24, sometimes in conjunction with verses 28-30, are
employed for searching and applying law.
Third, those three subjects of law, place, and people provide the three clas
sical elements for the identity of a people. The fullest picture of this subject
matter appears in the writings of Origen where, by way of application, a whole
independent people in the Roman empire is drawn out, albeit a 'virtual' peo
ple. Yet, even in Origen, these three subjects appear not in a discussion of the
passage as a whole, but each on its own in different places.
Consequently, the texts studied in my thesis have a profile of their own.
They are neither allegories nor appendices to a later dogmatic development, or
to an earlier precursor; they rather allow glimpses into the development of
Christian thinking in the second and third century CE. Furthermore, aspects of
social history of the second and third century CE can be gleaned from the
wealth of this material.
In what follows, I shall present as an example one of those ancient authors,
but in a more extensive analysis than appeared in my thesis. The example is
the use of Gal 4:26 and 27 by the Naassenes and the Valentinians, as reported
by Hippolytus, Refutation of all Heresies (ca. 222-235)3. His reports on the
Naassenes (Refutation 5.6.3-11.1) and on the Valentinians (6.21-38) contain
the earliest literary use currently known of verses from Gal 4:21-31.
There are three text references in the Refutation. Of these three texts, each
one presents three literary levels. The first level reports the Eleusinian Myster
ies and the Phrygian feasts, in the case of the Naassenes, and the Neo-
Pythagorean system, in the case of the Valentinians. The skopos in each of
these three Graeco-Roman systems is the life and death cycle with the option
for immortality mimetically presented with the images of Greek gods and their
stories. The second level shows the adoption of those precursors by the
Naassenes and the Valentinians. The skopoi of the two schools replace the
cf. Francis Young, 'The Fourth Century Reaction against Allegory', SP XXX (1997), 120-5, in
reference to Adrianos of Antioch, Isagoge ad sacras scripturas,
3 Employed is the edition of Miroslav Marcovich (ed.), Hippolytus. Refutatio Omnium Haere-
sium, PTS 25 (Berlin, New York: Walter De Gruyter, 1986).
Delineating Identity in the Second and Third Century CE 165
sagas and gods of the mysteries with the Judaeo-Christian God and his salva
tion plan as written in scripture. The third level, from some eighty years later,
stems from the reporter, Hippolytus, whose interests are quite different - to
win his vendetta against the Bishops of Rome Zephyrinus and Callistus
(9.1 1.1 )4. Of interest here are the first two levels.
Refutation 5.7.39, Citing Gal 4:26; Subject Matter: Place of Salvation
Paragraph 5.7.39 belongs to the broader context of 7.37b-41. In this context,

7.37b-38 is a report of the ritual of the Eleusinian Mysteries by which men
become gods and gods become men, determined by the eddying of water. On
the Eleusinian day of plemochoe, the destiny of men is determined by the
pouring of water from one vessel (plemochoe) to another, showing by the
eddying of the water a new generation of men become gods, going from earth
to heaven. The three following paragraphs, 7.39-41, present the Naassenean
rereading of four elements of the Mysteries. 1. The 'men become gods' event
of the plemochoe is mirrored, by way of mimesis, in Ps 82:6, 'You are gods
and all children of the highest.' 2. The journey from the earthly to the heavenly
realm in the Mysteries becomes a Naassenean mimetic replay of the exodus
from Egypt by way of the Philonic reading5 of Egypt in the book of Exodus as
the place of 'the body and the passions'; this is opposed to the land of the
souls, which is in heaven. 3. The final destination of the gods in the Mysteries
was the goddess Demeter, the source of all living. In the Naassenean replay
this place becomes, by way of mimesis from Gal 4:26, 'Jerusalem above' and
from Gen 3:20, 'mother of all living'. 4. Through effort, men become immor
tal. In the Mysteries men must overcome a dangerous separation, called a
'wall', a 'fortress', or Homer's 'cliff of Luecas'6, between the world and the
heavens. For the Naassenes, by mimetic reading, the separation is identified
with the Red Sea (Ex 13-15) and the backward-flowing River Jordan (Jos
3:16). The spirituals and the carnals in the Mysteries become, by way of
mimesis, the ones 'born of the spirit' and those 'born of the flesh' (John 3:6).
The impression is that mimesis is the method by which the Naassenes
approach the salvation efforts of the members of the Mysteries and furnish
them with a code of references from the Judaeo-Christian salvation story. Over
against the goddess Demeter and her abode, the final destination of immortals
becomes now 'Jerusalem above', which doubles as the 'mother of all living'.
4 Marcovich, Hippolytus, pp. 36-41.

5 Cf. Philo, On Husbandry 14.64-65.
6 Homer, Odyssey 24.9-11.
166 P. Heldt
Refutation 5.8.36, Citing Gai 4:27; Subject Matter: People
The text of 5.8.36 is part of the argument in 5.8.31-36 about the conditions
for becoming immortal according to the Phrygian cult. The Phrygian spring
festival was marked by a savage punishment of the flesh for the sake of attain
ing eternal rebirth. The arguments are reported in such a way that the Phry
gians' three conditions for becoming immortal are mirrored by the Naassenes
in precursors from scripture. The first condition is not to follow fleshly desire.
The Phrygians are reported as saying that carnal men are unfruitful when they
behave carnally. The Naassenes mimetic rereading is that 'every tree not pro
ducing good fruit, is cut down and cast into the fire' (Matt 3:10), meaning
fleshly desires prevent good deeds.
The second condition is not to devour the living. The Phrygians are reported
as saying that 'you eat the dead to make the living'; the living are like 'pearls
of the unportrayable one, cast before the creature below'. The Naassenes mir
ror this condition as 'throw not that which is holy unto the dogs, nor pearls
unto the swine' (Matt 7:6a), namely, keep yourself holy.
The third condition is not to procreate. The Phrygians are reported as saying
that 'intercourse of the woman with a man is the work of swine and dogs, a
goat-herd called Aipolis' (turning constantly all things). The Naassenes mirror
the kind of people who gain immortality with Is 54: lb/Gal 4:27b: 'more
numerous are the children of the deserted than of her who has the husband',
that is, not physical but spiritual procreation secures immortality.
Looking at the three Phrygian conditions for becoming immortal, as
reported through Hippolytus by the Naassenes, the following correspondences
are found. First, refraining from fleshly desires matches the savage punishment
of the celebrant's own flesh during the celebrations. Second, holiness matches
the demand not to eat the living and to fast. Third, the recommendation to
exercise spiritual procreation matches the exaltation of castration. The mimesis
of Gal 4:27 provides identity of the kind of people who will become immor
tal.
The Eleusinian Mysteries like the Phrygian cult teach of a triadic class of
beings, namely the immortal gods, rational men becoming immortal by effort,
and irrational or carnal men who will perish. In these reports of Hippolytus,
the Naassenes employ the same triadic structure. So also did the Valentinians,
as we shall now see.
Refutation 6.34.3, Citing Gal 4:26; Subject Matter: Place of Salvation
Refutation 6.34.3 belongs to the context of 6.34.1-8, which twice repeats the
structure of introducing Pythagorean thinking followed by Valentinian
mimetic rereading. Thus, 34.1-2 reports the Pythagorean division of the celes
Delineating Identity in the Second and Third Century CE 1 67
tial sphere with a quaternion as the source of everlasting nature7. The report
accuses the Valentinians of dividing the Pleroma by analogy with the
Pythagorean division of the Zodiac (6.34.2). This report is followed in 34.3-4
by the Valentinian definition of Sophia, which mimetically recalls the 'mother
of all living' in the book of Genesis (Gen 3:20) and defines the place of the
Pleroma mimetically as 'Jerusalem above' (Gal 4:26) where the Logos and
angels have citizenship. The second part of the paragraph, like the first, reports
first (34.5-6) Pythagorean teaching about the development of the material man,
followed (34.7-8) by the Valentinians' mimetic recall of the creator being
God, the Father of Jesus Christ (Eph 3: 14-18).
To sum up the employment of Gal 4:26 and 27 in the reports presented
above, the skopoi of the Naassenes and the Valentinians lead them to tap into
the most influential public faith forces in the Roman empire in order to pro
mote their own viewpoints. It was to the two groups' advantage to identify two
key parts in those salvation cults, namely the place and the people of salvation,
and to dress them with Judaeo-Christian images. Thereby the new fashion
looked old, since the form of the traditional celebrations remained untouched,
while the new groups gained their own profile and delineated their own iden
tity. Applying the reading techniques of their time, these texts show the
process of teaching Christian faith in the second and third century. A few
decades later, when during the reign of Alexander Severus (222-235) those
Mysteries and Feasts had lost political favour, Hippolytus presents his reports
about the Naassenes and Valentinians with little appreciation for their attempts
to teach about Christ in their own period.
Treatise on David and Goliath 7.2, Citing Gal 4:24; Subject Matter: The
Two Laws
There is one more text in the writings of Hippolytus with a reference to the
Galatians passage. The Treatise on David and Goliath 7.2, of which a num
ber of fragments survive8, employs verse 24 of Galatians 4. The fragments
employ 1 Sam 17 as a precursor, reading it verse by verse as if it anticipated
the end-time battle of the Redeemer in order to save parts of mankind. In a
triadic system, the first class, rendered as Israel alongside David, occupies
one mountain. The second class, presenting the Philistines as a mimesis for
gentiles, stand on the other hill fighting David, turned Redeemer; of this class
7 The text 6:34.1-2 describes the everlasting nature as being Sophia, which is the Spirit from
which derives the material creation, the Demiurge, which is the Soul, the Devil, which is the ruler
of the world, and Beelzebub, which is the ruler of demons.
8 The text employed here is that of Geiard Garitte (tr. from the Georgian version), Traites
d'Hippolyte sur le Cantique des cantiques et sur I'Antechrist, CSCO 264, Iber 16 (Louvain,
1965).
168 P. Heldt
some men will survive. The third class, in the valley between the two moun
tains, will perish.
The passage aims to give gentiles believing in Christ a place in the world to
come, gained through fighting, behind the uncontested first place of the
Israelites. The two mountains are mimetically read as the two testaments
(laws) of Gal 4:24. Of the two mountains, the one stands for the Jewish scrip
tures, the other for the scriptures of grace, meant for gentiles.
Comparing this passage with the reports about the Naassenes and Valentini-
ans, the same reading technique is employed, including mimesis and the sko-
pos, which in both cases ensures the author's preferential treatment of one
group vis a vis another one which is in some superior position. Although some
of the fragments refer to the 'scripture of grace', salvation is not gained by
grace, as the Epistle to the Galatians suggests, but, as in the case of the reports,
by fighting. Yet there are two differences. First, judging from the different pre
cursors, mirrored by the author's scriptures, the ruling power in the case of the
fragments are Israelites, while in the case of the reports about the Naassenes
and Valentinians the power is seen in the Graeco-Roman religions. Second,
the fragments present a triadic anthropology in an eschatological frame; the
first class consists of Israel, to which the author adds a second class. The
reports present a kind of triadic cosmology, in which the first class is occupied
by gods and the second and third classes refer to men; the second class is
saved, the third class perishes.
Apart from the remarkable literary similarity between the reports and the
fragments, the differences also show a methodological similarity. Both render
ings delineate identity from the more powerful 'other' for the favoured group
of gentiles believing in Christ, namely, from Graeco-Roman religions and
from Israel respectively. Considering the impressive similarities, it is difficult
to see how Hippolytus, if he is the author of the fragments, can be regarded as
being so different and superior in reading the scriptures from the reported sys
tems of the Naassenes and Valentinians. The condemnation pronounced by
Hippolytus upon those earlier groups pertains to his own political concerns,
rather than to the way in which they had begun to create a gentile Christian
identity. Common both to those groups and to Hippolytus himself is the fact-
that they consistently employ verses from the Galatians passage in order to
provide a way of delineating identity for gentiles. The reading of the passage
in Paul's epistle is subordinate to each author's respective skopos; there is
no attempt to read the passage, either as a whole or in parts, with Paul's own
skopos.
The Christological Dimension
of Maximus Confessor's Biblical Hermeneutics
Assaad E. Kattan, Antelias
The writings of Maximus the Confessor (c.580-662) have so far been much
more investigated with respect to the history of spirituality and dogma than to
biblical hermeneutics. In fact, many eminent students of Maximus seem to
have been convinced that his hermeneutical approach might be reduced to a
rather passive reception of already forged Alexandrian models1. This hasty
judgement has been slightly corrected thanks to the insightful work of P.M.
Blowers2. Yet, the hermeneutics of Maximus is far from being exhaustively
studied and still constitutes an interestingly rich field of scholarly investiga
tion. Especially does the developed Christological dimension that underlies the
whole hermeneutical thinking of Maximus merit more attention. The present
contribution is intended to shed more light on this issue3.
It has been generally assumed that Maximus' biblical hermeneutics gravi
tates within the orbit of Origenian legacy. Even a quick reading of Maximus'
exegetical treatises would suffice to confirm the accuracy of this assumption.
In his exegetical work par excellence, known as the Quaestiones ad Thalas-
sium, Maximus shows his capacity to allegorize almost every interpreted text.
If he occasionally provides literal clarifications4, he often confines himself to
allegorical interpretation5. Especially within the framework of the last Quaes
tiones, Maximus embarks on lengthy allegorical speculations over the text in
question, giving the impression that he misses, at the end of the book, the con
ciseness he promised at the beginning6. Nevertheless, to say that Maximus
1 Cf. I.H. Dalmais OP, 'Introduction' to Saint Maxime le Confesseur, Le mystere du salut, tr.
Astenos Argyriou, Les ecrits des saints (Namur, 1965), 24; P. Sherwood, 'Exposition and Use of
Scripture in St Maximus as Manifest in the Quaestiones ad Thalassium', OCP 24 (1958), 206.
2 Cf. especially P.M. Blowers, Exegesis and Spiritual Pedagogy in Maximus the Confessor.
An Investigation of the Quaestiones ad Thalassium, Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity 7
(Notre Dame, 1991); 'The Anagogical Imagination. Maximus the Confessor and the Legacy of
Origenian Hermeneutics', in Origeniana Sexta, Origene et la Bible, ed. Gilles Dorival and Alain
Le Boulluec, BETL 118 (Louvain, 1995), 639-45.
3 Cf. also A.E. Kattan, Verleiblichung und Synergie. Grundziige der Bibelhermeneutik bei
Maximus Confessor, Supplements to VC 63 (Leiden, 2003).
4 Cf. Maximi Confessoris Quaestiones ad Thalassium 1 (1-55) [Thai. /], ed. C. Laga and
C. Steel, CCG 7 (1980), q. 2; 6; 8; 9; 18; 19; 21; 22; 27; 29; 31; 34; 42.
5 Cf. Maximi Confessoris Quaestiones ad Thalassium 2 (56-65) [Thai. //], ed. C. Laga and
C. Steel, CCG 22 (1990), q. 61-65.
6 Cf. Thai. I, Introductio (21, 66).
170 A. E. Kattan
owes a lot to Alexandrian, more precisely Origenian, hermeneutics raises the

question of where and how he places his own hermeneutical accent. In other
words, if Maximus is the theologian who centres the synthesis of his multifac-
eted thought around the formula of Chalcedon - just as has been demonstrated
by modern scholarship - it becomes all the more important to investigate to
what extent his biblical hermeneutics goes beyond Origen and integrates Chal-
cedonian elements.
The Christological perspective within which Maximus conceives his biblical
hermeneutics can be detected, first of all, through his teaching on the incarnation
of the divine Logos in holy scripture. Actually, Maximus does not content him
self with drawing a nearly geometrical parallel between the presence of the
Logos in the cosmos and within scripture7, he also explicitly resorts to the incar-
national vocabulary (aconaxoouai, a<*p^ yivouai) in order to express his
hermeneutical approach8. Accordingly, as much as the things of the created
world, the scriptural words (pfjnaAeîc;)9, letters (ypanua), and syllables (oua,-
taxpf|)10 are metaphorically conceived as the flesh of the Logos, and thus func
tionally identified with the literal sense. Terminologically speaking, Maximus
uses also other terms like text (pnxov)11, narrative (Icrcopia)12, figure (xurco<;)13,
and symbol (otjuPoaxw)14 in order to describe the incarnational presence of the
Logos in scripture. In this respect, it is important to note that Maximus under
stands the scriptural incarnation as an act of divine accommodation. Transcen
dent by essence as he is, the Logos adapts himself to the condition of human
nature which needs written words15. Although the idea of accommodation as such
is common to several representatives of the patristic heritage, Maximus, in his
teaching pertaining to the scriptural incarnation, has been largely moved by Ori
genian insights16. However, as far as I know, Origen never speaks of an incarna
tion of the Logos in the holy book expressis verbis, even though he extensively
exploits the analogy between the Logos becoming flesh in history and himself
coming into concreteness through the biblical words17. Consequently, Maximus,
7 Cf. Maximi Confessoris De variis difficilibus locis 6-71 [Amb. Io.], 10 (PG 91, 1125D-
1128D).
8 Cf. Amb. Io. 33 (PG 91, 1285C-1288A); Maximi Confessoris Capita ducenta [Th. ec], 1I.60
(PG 90, 1149C-1152A) and 73 (PG 90, 1157B).
9 Cf. Th. ec. 1I.60.
10 Cf. Amb. Io. 33.
Cf. Th. ec. 1I.73.
Cf. Th. ec. 1I.60; A.E. Kattan, Verleiblichung, 225-35.
Cf. Thai. II, q. 62 (115-117, 25-28).
14 Cf. Amb. Io. 10 (PG 91, 1 128B).
15 Cf. Amb. Io. 33.
Cf. Kattan, Verleiblichung, 154f., 144-6, 203f.; H. de Lubac, Histoire et Esprit. L 'intelli
gence de I'ecriture d'apres Origene, Theologie 16 (Paris, 1950) 344.
17 Cf. Homilies sur le Levitique 1 (I-VII), ed. M. Borret, SC 286 (1981) I.1; Matthauserk-
larung 2. Die lateinische Ubersetzung der Commentariorum Series, ed. E. Klostermann, GCS 38
The Christological Dimension of Maximus Confessor's Biblical Hermeneutics 171
in adopting the biblical incarnation as a hermeneutical principle, utilizes and

elaborates Origenian elements, forging them into an explicit incarnation of the
divine Logos in scripture.
It has been observed that the accommodation principle serves, in Maximus'
thought, to assess positively the scriptural incarnation of the Logos, that is, the
literal sense. Nonetheless, there is another side of the coin. For, in some of his
texts, the Confessor shows an obvious inclination to discredit the scriptural
flesh of the Logos as something misleading that ought to be transcended18, thus
producing an apologia for an allegorical reading. This negative evaluation of
the scriptural flesh is apparently at odds with the interpretation of the scriptural
words in terms of an incarnational locus of the Logos. Actually, this tension
implies that, according to Maximus, the biblical words possess a double char
acter, namely their ability both to reveal and to hide the Logos. Whenever the
biblical words are regarded transparently in relation to the Logos dwelling
incarnationally in them, they enable the reader to pass through them to the
very Logos. Nevertheless, once considered independently, they function as a
barrier that keeps the reader from attaining the Logos.
At this stage, it would be inaccurate to assume that such a biblical incarna
tion is, in Maximus' thought, nothing but an abstract hermeneutical theory. It
is precisely to ward off such a possible misunderstanding that one should
inevitably ask to what extent Maximus interprets his scriptural incarnation
semantically and terminologically after the model of the historical incarnation.
Firstly, it is worthy noting that, in Maximus' thought, the double movement of
the Logos revealing and concealing himself does not represent a mere biblical
phenomenon. For the Confessor postulates two forms under which the Logos
manifests himself in his historical flesh: on the one hand, the form of God
which is exemplified chiefly by the transfiguration and, on the other hand, the
form of servant which illustrates how the Logos assumes the condition of the
sinful human nature. Whereas in the former the glorified humanity reflects the
divine essence of the Logos, this very essence is in the latter occluded by the
flesh19. This teaching concerning the two forms shows how Maximus can be
simultaneously inspired by the Epistle to the Philippians (2:6-11), developing
a Dionysian intuition20, and following Origen21. It also forces upon us the con
(1933), Comm. Ser. 27; Matthduserkldrung 3. Fragmente unci Indices, E. Klostermann, GCS
41/1 (1941) frag. 11.
18 Cf. Amb. Io. 10 (PG 91, 1129CD); Th. ec. 1I.73 (PG 90, 1157CD); Th. ec. 1I.42 (PG 90,
1144BC).
19 Cf. Amb. lo. 10 (PG 91, 1125D-1129D); Th. ec. I.97 (PG 90, 1121C-1124A): 1I.13 (PG 90,
1129D-1132A).
20 Cf. Epistulae, ed. A.M. Ritter, in Corpus Dionysiacum II, ed. Giinter Heil and A.M. Ritter,
PTS 36 (1991), 3 (1069B).
21 Cf. Contre Celse 3 (V-VI), ed. M. Borret, SC 150 (1969), VI.76f., 1I.64, IV.15f.; Homilies
sur s. Luc, ed. H. Crouzel, SC 87 (1962), 3.3-4; Matthduserkldrung l. Die griechisch erhaltenen
Tomoi, ed. E. Klostermann, GCS 40 (1935), XII.36f.
172 A. E. Rattan
clusion that the double symbolism of manifestation and concealment on the

scriptural level is closely related, in Maximus' thought, to a deeper dynamism
observed on the level of the historical flesh, namely its faculty both to mani
fest and to conceal the divine nature of the Logos.
Yet if Maximus does not hesitate to draw upon Origen as well as the author
of the Dionysian corpus, it is at this very point that his Christological Chal-
cedonian perspective attains its ultimate expression. Actually, the dialectic of
manifestation and concealment that Maximus attributes to the historical flesh
of the Logos can hardly be reckoned as a mere reception of existing Origenian
and Dionysian motifs, for Maximus penned a number of passages where this
dialectic proves to be a direct application of the Chalcedonian formula, with its
famous a-adverbs, and also its further development, through the concept of
circumincession (rcepixcbpr|aii;), itself a very distinctive feature of Maximus'
Christology22. The hypostatically united natures of the Logos permeate each
other, without being altered (dxpercxco<;) nor confused (dairyxuxax;), in such a
way as to make possible a dynamism of manifestation and concealment of the
divine through the flesh. The more the divine hides, the more the human
appears. Jesus can therefore be taken by the unbelievers for a mere human
being. This concealment does not bear a mere economic significance, but is
rather co-inherent to the divine nature hiding even when manifesting itself23.
By the same token, the more the divine appears, during the transfiguration for
instance, the more the human element, receiving divine features, becomes hid
den and invisible. Maximus terminologically illustrates this dialectic through
his famous xoaomov-oaov/tantum-quantum formula, the rootedness of which
in his circumincession concept has been thoroughly evidenced by L. Thunberg.
Consequently, it can be asserted that, in Maximus' thought, the double func
tional character of the scriptural flesh of the Logos is patterned after a deeper
dynamism of his historical flesh. This dynamism is described in terms of the
Christological teaching of Chalcedon and its reception by Maximus himself
through the concept of circumincession.
This Christological perspective of Maximus' biblical hermeneutics may be
verified, secondly, on a terminological level. The Christological dimension
of ui>axf|piov, one of Maximus' key terms, has already been signalled by
some scholars24. The several semantic constellations in which this term
22 Maximi Confessoris Diversa capita 1-15 [Cap. XV], 9 (PG 90, 1181BC); Maximi Confes-
soris Epistolae [£/?.], 2 (PG 90, 397BC); Amb. Io. 42 (PG 91, 1320AB). Concerning circumin
cession in Maximus cf. L. Thunberg, Microcosm and Mediator. The Theological Anthropology of
Maximus the Confessor (Lund, 1965; 2nd edn, Chicago, 1995), 23-36; J.-C. Larchet, La divini-
sation de l'homme selon saint Maxime le Confesseur, Cogitatio fidei; 194 (Paris, 1996), 333-46.
23 Cf. Cap. XV.8 (PG 90, 1 181AB).
24 Cf. L. Thunberg, Man and the Cosmos. The Vision of St Maximus the Confessor (New
York, 1985), 162-6; R. Bornert, 'La Mystagogie de saint Maxime le Confesseur', Les commen
tates byzantins de la divine liturgie du VII' au XV siecle. Archives de POrient chretien 9 (Paris,
1966), 110-13; Blowers, Exegesis, 122-30.
The Christological Dimension of Maximus Confessor's Biblical Hermeneutics 173
occurs in Maximus' writings pertain to a basic sense deriving from its usage
within Deutero-Pauline theology (cf. Col. 1:26; Eph. l:9f.). For Maximus,
uuaxr|piov is the hidden plan of God the Father with respect to his creation
that was revealed and implemented through the incarnation of the Logos and
his earthly mission25. Furthermore, Maximus has recourse to a set of terms,
such as symbol (auuPoA,ov), figure (zvnoq), and image (eIkcov), to refer to
the symbolic nature of the biblical text. It is not the task of the present con
tribution to delineate quantitatively the numerous terms corresponding, with
varied nuance, to what one might call Maximus' notion of symbol26. Instead,
it is of more significance to ask whether the notion of 'symbol', whatever
words Maximus might use to designate it, carries a Christological connota
tion.
In this regard, it is very instructive that the major terms indicating in Max
imus' writings the idea of a biblical symbol appear in both a good and a bad
light. Whereas, for example, the auu (3o>.a in Maximus' Mystagogia fulfil the
task of providing a foretaste of the eschatological mysteries27, they appear in
other passages as massively veiling divine realities28. The same conclusion can
also be drawn with respect to the terms figure (vbnoc) and image (elKcbv)29.
This is obviously reminiscent of how Maximus evaluates the function of the
scriptural flesh of the Logos. Accordingly, one feels tempted to hypothesize
that the same Christological 'logic' which proved to lie behind Maximus'
interpretation of the scriptural incarnation would apply to the particular
hermeneutical terms expressing the notion of symbol. In fact, this hypothesis
is explicitly supported by at least one passage where the Confessor makes use
of the term auuPoA,ov in a very specific Christological context30. The Lord is
declared to have become through his incarnation and without being altered
(dxpeTTtCo<;) a symbol (auuPoA,ov) and a figure (xurco<;) of himself. For his
invisible divine nature is rendered perceptible by the flesh, becoming a place
of divine energies, without ceasing to be essentially hidden. This is made pos
sible due to the indivisible hypostatic union of the person of Christ and the
penetration of the human flesh by the divine energy. Certainly, we are dealing
here with a further elaboration of those insights Maximus borrows from Ori-
gen and Pseudo-Dionysius, now embedded within the Christological frame
work of Chalcedon and the circumincession concept. Nonetheless, the new
ness of this passage lies especially in the fact that this Christological
25 Cf. Th. ec. 1I.23 (PG 90, 1136A); Thai. II, q. 60.
26 Cf. Kattan, Verleiblichung, 177-84.
27 Cf. Sancti Maximi Mystagogia [Myst.], 24 (PG 91, 705A, 704A).
28 Cf. Ep. 14 (PG 91, 540 CD); Amb. Io. 10 (PG 91, 1128B).
29 Cf. Maximi Confessoris Opuscula theologica et polemica 20 (PG 91, 228B); Thai. I, q. 47
(315, 56-59); Th. ec. 1I.17 (PG 90, 1132D-1133A); Myst. 1 (PG 91, 664CD); Kattan, Verleib
lichung, 182-4.
30 Cf. Amb. Io. 10 (PG 91, 1165D-1168A).
174 A. E. Rattan
interpretation is brought into organic relation with Maximus' concept of sym

bol. The Christology of Chalcedon and the notion of circumincession are capa
ble of clarifying how the Lord becomes a symbol for himself in such a way
that the viewer goes from him as symbolizing himself through the flesh in
order to reach him as a symbolized divine Logos. Thus, Maximus provides his
notion of symbol with a solid Christological basis, so that one may argue that
the two components of a symbol, namely the symbolizing and the symbolized,
relate to each other like the two natures of Christ. They belong together as a
result of an unbreakable union (dxcopiaxco<;, d8iaipexax;) and penetrate each
other (Ttepixcbpr|m<;) without being reduced (dxpercxco<;, dauyxuxox;) to each
other. This relationship explains how a scriptural symbol functions. For only
the union between both the symbolizing and the symbolized makes a symbolic
dynamism possible. Yet, the fact that those elements should not be confused
shows why, according to Maximus, it is not permissible to stay on the level of
the symbolizing, that is the literal, and to lose sight of the allegorical sense.
Is it legitimate to advance such a Christological interpretation of the scrip
tural symbol in Maximus? My response is 'yes'. It is a fact that this Chal-
cedonian interpretation of a symbol has been nowhere so explicitly affirmed
by Maximus. However, there is in the light of the above analysis enough evi
dence to consider it as a firm structure of his theological thought, even if it is
implicit.
The Newly Edited Pages of Didymos the Blind on Psalms
Thomas W. Mackay, Provo
'Stunning, brilliant, utterly remarkable', we may appropriately label Didy

mos the Blind's mind and memory as we peruse his writings. Every time I
read Didymos I am struck by his comprehension and retention, his unwavering
faith and love of God, and the expanse of his intellect. I am also struck by his
sensitive humanity, reflecting his acceptance of life without jealousy of others
who may enjoy what he does not have, ordinary visual acuity. There is no
anger, no sense of remonstrance towards God, no jealousy or envy or any
desire to be other than what he is. He speaks as one who can visualize in his
mind and with great awe and wonder contemplate the intricate interrelations of
God's creations and all of the attendant details, tangible and intangile alike. He
rejoices to perceive the hand of God in all things; he wishes to help others
seek with him to give reverence to deity.
The magnanimity of Didymos' soul peeps out when, while explaining Ps
36:1, 'do not be jealous' (uf| rcapa^nXoC £v xolq rcovnpeuouevoii;), he states
(Tura Psalm Commentary (PsT) 242, 21-23)) that we ought not envy someone
- even the wicked - who for now appears to be rich, in full health, and so on.
'For if you become jealous because of the wicked, you immediately emulate
those who work iniquity.' He distinguishes between jealousy and, with word
play echo in Greek, imitation (exepov £cmv xo ^nA,oiv Kcd exepov xo
Ttapa£r|A,oiv), and this leads to his conclusion that emulation is thus imitation
and can be negative or positive (co8e xo £nA,oi<v> xo uiueiaGai £ctxiv (242,
14—15)). When people want to dwell with God, they arouse others with them
selves to a good emulation or jealousy, one that motivates to good (e\q C,f\Xov
&yaG6v (242, 4-6)). God's love is not to destroy, but he acts that he may be
merciful to all: i'va xoix; ndvxaq £Xen.ar| (242, 7). He provides the way that
all may be saved: ouxcd 8& bbbq acoGfjvai navxaq yeyovev (242, 12).
Unfortunately, in the partial dismemberment of the Psalms codex upon its
discovery at Tura, the conjoint leaves comprising the next bifolium, pp. 243-
244 and 253-254, disappeared, leaving us with a mutilated and defective text
for the commentary on Ps 36 (missing is all after just three lines of comment
on Ps 36:3, continuing through the comment on the first half of Ps 36:9). Sev
eral single leaves and conjoint leaves were given to various members of the
discovering party. The first leaf of quire 16 (pp. 241-242) was distributed to
one of the British officers present, and his estate sold it at auction at Sotheby's
on April 25 1983. H.P. Kraus purchased it over bids by the British Library and
176 T. W. Mackay
Brigham Young University, among others. When quire 8 (pp. 113-128, with
an additional bifolium in the middle, now numbered 120A-120D) miracu
lously came into our hands at BYU, I prevailed upon the Director of Acquisi
tions, A. Dean Larsen, recently deceased, to acquire the Kraus leaf as well as
quire 8. Hence, at BYU we have 22 pages of this magnificent and unique text.
Of the 356 papyrus pages in the original codex (21 quires of 16 pages + the
BYU quire with 20), only the sixteen pages of quire 11, the bifolium from
quire 16, and another six pages remain unaccounted for and presumably unre
coverable. The British Library has 14 pages, though at least one is blank and
unused; 50 are at the Bodmer in Geneva, another 50 in Cairo, and the other
(about 194) pages are among those that Ludwig Koenen negotiated to buy for
the institute at Koln, Germany. He has been the editor-in-chief of Papyrolo-
gische Texte und Abhanglungen (PTA), where our text and English translation
will appear to complete the text and German translation of the other pages by
Michael Gronewald. My two colleagues, Dan Graham and James Siebach, and
I are seriously contemplating producing an English translation for the other
published pages as well.
Didymos constantly exposes his proclivity to deal with semantics of the
scriptural text in his exegesis, as at 242, 22, where he states: &ucovuuei rcoA,-
A,dia<; xo rcoir|xiK6v xtj<; KoA,daeco<; Kai r\ KdXacnq - 'what causes punish
ment and the punishment itself are often called by the same name/noun'.
Hence, both the action of punishment and the abstract notion of punishment
may interchange. Again, Didymos speaks of destruction and of the meaning of
the pit and Hades, regarding destruction both in the abstract and in the con
crete or specific.
When he makes reference to scriptural stories, he uses some of the common
pairings, such as Joseph and Susanna, or Joseph and Daniel. In fact, Daniel is
consistently by far the most widely illustrated story in early Christian art, fol
lowed by Jonah. Similarly, when Didymos refers to Melchizedek, he extols the
'without father' and 'without mother' characterization that we find in Hebrews
(Heb 7:3; see below).
Not infrequently Didymos will directly quote a biblical passage to illumi
nate a lemma. Didymos may also paraphrase passages, and hence from a tex
tual viewpoint we cannot always assume that Didymos (or his amanuensis/
scribe) intended to give a verbatim citation. To work an expression into gram
matical and verbal context, he often needed to accommodate the phrasing of a
scripture. He will also make ellipses at will and without notice.
Didymos' scriptural quotations, paraphrases, and allusions cannot always be
taken as a specific textual attestation since (1) Didymos memorized and did
not consult a text to proof the transcribed notes - nor could he have seen to do
so; (2) his dictation or class instructional notes, which the Psalms commentary
appears to be, may not accurately reflect all of the specific nuances Didymos
may have had in mind or may blend words grammatically; (3) the scribe may
have been influenced to use the wording from another passage of similar ver
bal expression (for example, the synoptics or, where Didymos apparently
deliberately used the OT Psalms text of Ps 33: 13 in its LXX form versus the
way it is q'ANuoted in 1 Pt 3:11); (4) he will employ ellipses and summary
recall of passages for second and third interpretations; and (5) apart from
whatever other stages of transmission or glosses may have occurred, the actual
papyrus text was transcribed more than 150 years after Didymos uttered it,
again subject to all of the typical foibles of inadvertent or unintentional errors
compounded by a scribe who may have tried to 'improve' what he saw before
him. We would consider such action a contamination of the text. These cir
cumstances of transmission are not unique to Didymos, for he shares them
with other patristic writers, but his lack of sight is another distancing factor
distinctive to himself. So much for commenting on textual transmission. Let us
rum to his distinctive content.
From his introduction to Ps 28 (PsT 120, 24-120A, 4), we read:
eP8ouo<; 'ouv' £oxiv 6 [yaXuoc,] uf|v. Std xouxo Kai eIkoxax; 6 \|/aA.uoc, 6 urcep
xou eô8iou xfjc, aKnvfjc, d86uevoc, KHW [6y8ooc, Kai eIkooxoc,] £axiv. Kai
yap 6 dpiGuo<; ouxoc, xpiycovo<; iaonXcvpoq £axiv, TtdvxoGev fep8oua8a <ex>cov.
apiGunoov drcd xou evoc, del xfjv Ttapau^r|aiv uovd8i Ttoiouuevoc/ e8ei ouv xfjv
ayouevnv xcp 6p86iicp unvi xou fiviauxou eopxf|v Kaxd xoiouxov dpiGuov KeiaGai
rc&vxoGev g/ovxa xfjv ep8oudSa. fi 8e fep8oudc, dyia Kai d8idcp6opoc, eaxiv,
dufjxcop Kai dTtdxcop cbc, noXXaKiq drco8eSeiKxai. ol uTtepPaivovxec. ouv xf|v
mcr|vr|v Kai 6^co auxfjc, yivouevoi ctrceu8ouctiv erci xov oIkov xou G(eo)u, xfiv
xeXeioxnxa' xoxe 6 G(eo)q ndvxa sv naaiv yivexai. 8t6 TtdvxoGev fepSojia<; £kei
e6picncexai. fioxiv 8e Kai xo xpiycovov oxfjna £TtiTteSov ouk e'xov pdGoc., &XXa
utjkoc, Kai nXaxoq' zf\q doco|iaxoxnxo<; Kai xfjc, voepai; ouoaa<; ounPoA,ov cpepei.
5io TtdvxoGev £cmv d8idcpGopo<;, dTtdxcop, duf|xcop' oux uTtoKeiuevn, exi yeVeOei
e^co rcdon<; yeVeOecb<; fiaxiv. TtdpGevoc, yap d5idcp6opoc, eotiv. TtdpOevov 8e
auxf|v êyouaiv oxi ou8eva dpiGudv xcov evxoc, uovd8oc. yevvp ou8e yewdxai
CTto xivoc,. fj xoivuv ou yewdxai, dndxcop Kai d^//xco/r fj 8e ou yevvg, rcdpGevoc,
&5idcpGopoc,.
Thus it is in the seventh month. For this reason it is appropriate for the psalm sung
about the Departure from the Tabernacle to be the 28th. For in fact this is the number
of an equilateral triangle, having seven units on each side. Count from one always
increasing by a unit. Thus it was appropriate for the festival which is held in the sev
enth month of the year to be positioned according to this number, since it has seven
units on every side. And seven is holy and incorruptible, without mother or father, as
is often proved. [120, 29] Thus those who go beyond [transcend] the tabernacle and get
outside of it hasten to the house of God, which is perfection. Then God becomes 'all
things in all' [1 Cor 15:28]. That is why the seven is found there on all sides. And the
triangle is a plane figure without depth, but only length and breadth. It is a symbol of
bodilessness and intellectual essence. That is why it is everywhere incorruptible, with
out father, without mother: transcending the subjection to generation, it lies outside all
generation. Indeed, it is an incorruptible virgin. They call it a virgin because seven
does not generate any number of those within the unit system [single-digit numbers],
178 T. W. Mackay
nor is it generated by any of them. So she is not generated, being without father or
mother1, and she does not generate, being an incorruptible virgin.
What unites the numerological, linguistic, and allegorical aspects of Didy-
mos' exegesis is very simply his ability to sense a perfect divine power or
presence underlying everything that is proportional, and he perceives propor
tion - and hence allegory - underlying a number, a two-dimensional figure, or
a word. When he refers to 28 as being a triangular number in the figure of an
isoscles triangle, it suggests that there is balance and symmetry and also that
by using these basic numbers arrayed in a geometrical fashion, many other fig
ures may be formed. Therefore, it was only natural for him to equate the
underlying presence of perfection, Christ, with Psalm 28, since 28 is a perfect
number, being the sum total of all of its parts (1, 2, 4, 7, 14) and being a man
ifestation of the number 7 (that is, 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 + 6 + 7 = 28) with all of
its associations with the perfection of God's creation in seven 'days' or peri
ods and with the sabbath as one-seventh of the creative periods. Furthermore,
Christ's resurrection on the first day of the week suggests that it is a renewal
of the creative process by a perfect being designed to bring perfection to
mankind. Didymos' Christological views pervade his exegesis.
The tradition of gematria - giving words numeric values and allegorizing
the numbers - which has antecedents among Jewish, Greek, and Roman intel
lectuals and in both the Old and New Ttestaments, was strong in Rabbinic tra
ditions of late antiquity and in some Christian circles. It was picked up and
developed in literature, art, and music by late antique and early medieval Irish
scholars and the Anglo-Saxons, from whom it infused the continent and can be
seen for centuries2. Mathematical proportions are also the basis of Greek musi
cal intervals, as may be noted in the recent editions of Greek music theorists.
What many saw was a harmony in the universe as manifested in words, lit
erature, numbers, music, art, the stars, plants, and animals; yet, this perfect
harmony could only happen if the creator, too, is perfect. As Didymos states in
his commentary on Zachariah,
Ttdvxa xd into GeoO yiyvoueva mi 8a>pouueva xaîv Kai &pnoviav xf|v Kaxd
dvaAoyiav £xel rcoioOvxo<; [isyaXa k<zi dveîxviao-ca, Kavovi Kai dpiGuqj rcdvxa
Siaxdxxovxo<;.
All the creations and gifts of God have order and harmony by mathematical propor
tions 'of one who made great and inscrutable things' (Job 5:9) 'because he arranges
and disposes all things by rule and number' (Wisd 11:20)3.
1 Cf. Heb 7:3; see also PsT 260, 1.)

2 See the series of volumes by David R. Howlett, The Celtic Latin Tradition of Biblical Style
(Dublin: Four Courts Press, 1996); Liber Epistolarum Sancti Patricii Episcopi. The Book of Let
ters of Saint Patrick the Bishop (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 1994); British Books in Biblical
Style (Dublin: Four Courts Press, 1997); Self-Authenticating Insular Charters (Dublin: Four
Courts Press, 1999); and several other related books and articles.
3 ZaT I.17 (commenting on Za 1 :7; ed. Louis Doutreleau, Didyme L'Aveugle, Sur Zacharie.
Therefore, behind or underlying every physical manifestation, idea, or

abstraction, including words, is a mystical or allegorical dimension that
reaches back to the perfect creator. Sometimes we can link up these dimen
sions, and so Didymos does in his exegesis. He learned to think in a way that
differs somewhat from our traditional contemporary training, to see relation
ships and dimensions where we see only plane geometrical figures, to grasp
balance and reference where, because we do not comprehend such implica
tions, we consequently tend to reject those who do. That would be a terrible
mistake and our loss. Didymos' exegesis bears serious analysis and measured
consideration.
vol. 1, SC 83 (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1961), 198, 19-21), incorporating Job 5:9 and Wisd
11:20; cf. W.A. Bienert, 'Allegoria' unct 'Anagoge' bei Didymos dem Blinden von Alexandria,
PTS, 13 (Berlin and New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1972), p. 106. (For numerology, see Doutre-
leau's introduction to SC 83, 112ff.) In Wisd 11:20 LXX (ed. Rahlfs (= Vulg. Wisd 11:21)), the
biblical text concludes, dXXa navxa uixpcp Kai dpiGnco Kai axaGuip Siexaâq,.
Porphyry Against the Christians: A Critical Analysis
of the Book of Daniel in Its Historical Context*
Ariane Magny, Montreal
What is the historical context for Porphyry's commentary on the prophecies

of Daniel? Few studies focus on this aspect of Porphyry's Against the Chris
tians, but it is important since early Christians owed the foundations and justi
fications of their religion to Daniel. The significance of the book of Daniel to
Christians is apparent since they considered Daniel as a prophet, whereas Jews
traditionally put the book with Lamentations, at the end of their canon. By
attacking the prophet's sayings, and especially the method Christians used to
interpret him, Porphyry threatened the core of their religion in his critique,
launched at the end of the third century1.
The remaining fragments of Against the Christians show that the pagan
critic had an extensive knowledge of the scriptures on which Christian apolo
gists had based their theology. His main purpose was to deny the Christian
claim that these texts were divinely inspired2. To fulfil this goal, Porphyry
argued that they were inconsistent and exaggerated3. He seems to have suc
ceeded, since only fragments of this work survive - primarily in Eusebius and
Jerome who preserve traces of his first, third, fourth, twelfth, thirteenth and
* This version was submitted in 2003, and the argument was further developed in 'Porphyre,
Hippolyte et Origene commentent Daniel', in I. Henderson and G.S. Oegema (eds.), The Chang
ing Face of Judaism, Christianity and Other Greco-Roman Religions in Antiquity (Giitersloh,
2006). I would like to thank E. Digeser, my then MA advisor at McGill University, and McGill's
Alma Mater.
1 According to T.D. Barnes, Porphyry wrote his anti-Christian treatise c.300: 'Scholarship or
Propaganda? Porphyry Against the Christians and its Historical Setting', Bulletin of the Institute
of Classical Studies 39 (1994), 65, and 'Monotheists All?', Phoenix 55 (2001), 159.
2 C. Evangeliou, 'Plotinus's Anti-Gnostic Polemic and Porphyry's Against the Christians',
in Neoplatonism and Gnosticism, ed. Richard T. Wallis (Albany, 1992), 125; P.F. Beatrice, 'Le
traits de Porphyre contre les chretiens. L'etat de la question', Kernos, 4 (1991), 1 19; R.L. Wilken,
The Christians as the Romans Saw Them (New Haven, 1984), 130, and 'Pagan Criticism of
Christianity: Greek Religion and Christian Faith', Early Christian Literature and the Classical
Intellectual Tradition: In honorem Robert M. Grant, ed. William R. Schoedel and Robert L.
Wilken, Theologie historique 54 (Paris, 1979), 129-30; P. Benoit, 'Un adversaire du christianisme
au me si&cle: Porphyre', RBibl 54 (1947), 265; P. de Labriolle, 'Porphyre et le Christianisme',
Revue de I'histoire de la philosophie 3 (1929), 397; A. Meredith, 'Porphyry and Julian against
the Christians', ANRW 2.23.2 (1980), 1131.
3 Evangeliou, 125.
182 A. Magny
fourteenth books4 - as a result of imperial edicts requesting the destruction of

Porphyry's anti-Christian works.
Porphyry's interest in Christians may have come from his master Plotinus5,
the father of Neoplatonism. Plotinus had encountered Christian beliefs in his
own entourage when some of his circle turned to Gnosticism6. He therefore
decided to write a treatise against them to 'defend both Plato against the
attacks of some apostates from the ancient philosophy, and Hellenism ...
against the metaphysical fancies and fearful cries coming from ... the Gnos
tics'7. Porphyry himself did this at Plotinus' behest8.
Porphyry's motivations may also derive from the exegetical tradition with
which he was acquainted. According to CM. Casey, Porphyry's commentary
on Daniel relied more on Christians than on pagans9. There were two major
commentators of Daniel in the third century10: Hippolytus, c.202-411, and Ori-
gen, who wrote the tenth book of his Stromateis on Daniel before 23 112.
Unfortunately, Origen's work is no longer extant, except for some fragments
preserved in Jerome's Commentary on Daniel13. His main ideas, however,
appear also in Against Celsus (c. 244-8)14, and the themes that Origen covers
4 Jerome, Commentary on Galatians, Prologue; Eusebius, HE 6.19.2; Eusebius, Chronicle,

Preface, trans. Jerome; Eusebius, PE 1.9.20; Jerome, Commentary on Daniel; Jerome, Commen
tary on Matthew 24:16; Jerome, From the Beginning of Mark. Benoit, 265-6; Beatrice, 123;
R.M. Grant, 'Porphyry Among the Early Christians', in Romanitas et Christianitas, Studia lano
Henrico Waszink oblata, ed. W. den Boer et al. (Amsterdam, 1973), 182; A. von Harnack, 'Por-
phyrius, Gegen die Christen', AKPAW (1916), Nr.l Frag. 21a, 39, 40, 41, 43, 44, 9a. A fragment
from book 13 survives in Jerome's Commentary on Matthew, but it could be attributed to a copy
ist's mistake (Benoit, 265).
5 Porphyry, Vita Plotini 4; Evangeliou, 122.
6 Porphyry, Vita Plotini 16; Evangeliou, 112.
7 Evangeliou, 112.
8 Porphyry, Vita Plotini 16; see also J. Igal, 'The Gnostics and "The Ancient Philosophy" in
Porphyry and Plotinus', in Neoplatonism and Early Christian Thought, Essays in Honour of AM.
Armstrong, ed. H.J. Blumenthal and R.A. Markus (London, 1981), 145, on the defence of Hel
lenism and ideas on cosmology; J. Bidez, Vie de Porphyre (Gaud. 1913), 63; W. Boer, 'A Pagan
Historian and His Enemies: Porphyry Against the Christians', Classical Philology 69 (1974),
199.
9 CM. Casey, 'Porphyry and the Origin of the Book of Daniel', JThSt 27 (1976), n.f. 31.
10 J. Braverman, Jerome's 'Commentary on Daniel': A Study of Comparative Jewish and
Christian Interpetations of the Hebrew Bible, Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series 7
(Washington, 1978), 13.
11 G. Bardy 'Introduction', in Hippolyte de Rome, Commentaire sur Daniel, SC 14 (Paris,
1947), 10.
12 Eusebius, HE 6.24.3; Braverman, 126.
13 Braverman, 126; according to Grant, 289, these fragments involve the stories of Suzanna
and Bel and the Dragon, as well as an interpretation of the seventy weeks of Daniel 9:24 and
Daniel 12:3. Jerome (Commentary on Galatians 5:13) also says that in this work, Origen applied
the words of Paul in that verse on freedom to a non-literal method of exegesis.
14 Eusebius, HE 6.36.1,2. Origen wrote his work during Philip's rule, when he was 60; see
also M. Borret, 'Introduction', in Origene, Contre Celse, tome I, SC 132 (Paris, 1967), 15-21.
Porphyry Against the Christians 183
here mirror Hippolytus' commentary15. Thus the latter can be used for specific
details on Daniel lacking in Origen. Julius Africanus was also interested in
Daniel, since he wrote to Origen concerning the apocryphal nature of the
book16. Neither Jerome nor Eusebius says that Porphyry knew Hippolytus or
Africanus17, but Eusebius himself knew little about Hippolytus18. We can rely
for information about the Christian exegetical tradition of Daniel on these
Christian authors. For Porphyry's main arguments concerning Daniel, our
chief source is Jerome's Commentary on Daniel. According to Jerome, Por
phyry argued that this book was not written by a prophet but by an individual
living in Judaea under Antiochus Epiphanes, during the Maccabean revolt19.
This premise implies that the book is historical, and that everything that is
meant to be prophetical is actually false20, not divinely inspired. Daniel's
unknown author wrote to sustain Jewish morale during Antiochus' persecu
tion21. The book of Daniel should thus be dated to the years 165-164 BCE.
Conversely, Christians believed that the book of Daniel was written in the
sixth century BCE, during the Persian period22. This view implies that it
includes only prophecies. According to Christians, the prophecies had been
fulfilled through Antiochus Epiphanes' reign. Most of what Porphyry had
associated with Antiochus, then, Christians connected to the Antichrist, so
these things had yet to be realized23. Christians went further: by calculating the
seventy weeks of years of Daniel, they argued that Scripture announced the
Incarnation24. By this demonstration they also justified their belief that the
15 He does not, however, allude to Daniel. He mentions him twice in relation to Celsus'
attacks (Cels. 7.53; 6.45, 46).
16 Eusebius, HE 6.31.1; Origene Philocalie, 1-20, Sur les Ecritures et la lettre a Africanus
sur l'histoire de Suzanne, ed. M. Harl and N. de Lange, SC 302 (Paris, 1983), 515.
17 Jerome, Commentary on Daniel 1 1.44-45. According to Jerome, Porphyry, like Hippolytus,
read at least Thedotion's version; see also B. Croke, 'Porphyry's anti-Christian Chronology',
JThSt n.s. 34(1983), 175.
18 Eusebius HE 6.20.2. Eusebius was unaware of which church Hippolytus was the head,
cf. Bardy, 7.
19 Jerome, Commentary on Daniel, Prologue.
20 Ibid.
21 Ibid. 11.44-45.
22 Wilken, 128; J. Trigg, Origen. The Bible and Philosophy in the Third-Century Church
(Atlanta, 1983), 240; M.V. Anastos, 'Porphyry's Attack on the Bible', in L.Wallach (ed.), The
Classical Tradition (Ithaca, 1966), 434; Croke, 172.
23 See Jerome, Commentary on Daniel 11. 2 for prophecies up to Antiochus Epiphanes. See
Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.5, 8, 10, 21, 49, 69; Hippolytus, On Christ and Antichrist
54; and Origen, Cels. 6.46 (cf. 2 Thess. 2:9) on the Antichrist.
24 See Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.23 for Daniel's announcing of Christ's coming;
see also Origen Stromateis 10 (cf. Jerome Commentary on Daniel 9. 24); Christians used the sev
enty weeks of years as found in Daniel 9:24-27 to date Christ's birth; see also Hippolytus Com
mentary on Daniel 4.39. Daniel mentions the son of man, and Hippolytus associates him with the
incarnate Word. Jesus is thus the son of God and the son of man (Hippolytus, Commentary on
Daniel 4.10); see Croke, 174.
184 A. Magny
Messiah would come a second time, as announced by Daniel25. Their mission,

therefore, must be to save from eternal opprobrium the world and all its peo
ples who would ultimately be governed by Christ26. Clearly, Porphyry, by
challenging these ideas, threatened the Church's credibility.
Eusebius' Ecclesiastical History hints at Porphyry's motivations for writing
on Daniel. Eusebius relates that Porphyry had vehemently accused Origen of
apostatizing from Hellenism and of inappropriately applying Greek allegorical
methods to interpret Jewish scriptures27 which are simple narrative, according
to the philosopher.
Since Hippolytus' ideas on Daniel are extant, they can be used to under
stand this attack. Hippolytus used Stoic methods for allegorical interpretation
as well as the Pythagorean numerical exegetical method28. He wanted to
demonstrate to Christian believers suffering under Septimius Severus' perse
cution that they would not experience Daniel's end of time29. Hippolytus used
Pythagoras to calculate the end of time and the Stoics to interpret Daniel's
visions and dreams. He thus attributed the prophecy regarding the little horn to
Antiochus (up to 24:7), and the prophecies regarding this uprooted little horn
to the Antichrist, rather than to the Maccabees as Porphyry would. Hippolytus
was unconcerned with chronology, since he asserted that the Holy Spirit, act
ing on God's will, had deliberately changed the order of history so as to
deceive the Antichrist. This argument implies that only the allegorical method
was appropriate30.
As for Origen, even if Porphyry wrongly accused him of having been pagan,
Origen was ambivalent toward Greek culture31. In Against Celsus, he deliber
ately used examples taken from Greek culture in order to answer Celsus'
attacks, thus showing the extent of his knowledge32. But other texts show him
warning his readers about Greek philosophy, arguing that it could lead to
heresy33. Origen also used the allegorical method to demonstrate that Christians
25 Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.10; Origen, Cels. 1.56; 2.29.

26 Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.8, 9; 4.12; Origen, Cels. 1.56; Daniel 7:14.
27 Eusebius, HE 6.19.4-8.
28 See Bardy, 41, on the Stoic method of interpretation; according to Meredith, 1131, during
the first two centuries A.D. the Stoic philosophers Chaeremon and Cornutus imported this
method. It was inspired by Paul's sayings and Philo of Alexandria. Cf. Labriolle, 415, and for
Paul, see Origen, Cels. 6.49. Concerning the exegetical tradition by numbers, see Hippolytus,
Commentary on Daniel 4.23-35. This traditon dates back to Pythagoras, according to Bardy, 48.
See also Aristotle, Metaphysics 1.5.
29 On Septimius Severus, see SHA, Vita Severi 17 and Bardy, 10; for the date of the end of
time, see Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.24.
30 Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.9; 2.28; 3.24; 1.5; 2.27.
31 See Eusebius, HE 6.19 on Origen's apostasy. Origen, Letter to Gregory (Philocalia XIII);
Origen Autobiographical Letter.
32 See Origen, Cels. 4.48, 49 on his attitude toward Greek culture; see Origen, Cels. 4.54; 7.3.
33 Origen, Letter to Gregory (Philocalia XIII); Origen Autobiographical Letter (cf. Eusebius,
HE 6.19.12); Gregory Thaumaturgus, Farewell Address (cf. Eusebius, HE 6.30); R. Goulet,
Porphyry Against the Christians 1 85
could read scripture for information on the Antichrist, whereas Jews could only
understand the bible mythically34.
From this point of view, we can understand the method that Porphyry chose
in order to counter Christian claims. To demonstrate his thesis, he made use of
the 'multiplex graecorum historia' and reconstructed the history hidden in
Daniel's visions and dreams35. He was, therefore, interpreting the Book of
Daniel historically36. Then to show that Daniel's author was not a prophet but
a historian, Porphyry used literary criticism and philology, both of which he
had studied with Longinus37. He even reproduced the debate between Origen
and Africanus on whether Daniel wrote in Greek or Hebrew, using the same
example of Greek wordplay that Africanus had38. Porphyry was thus able to
argue that Daniel 'was clearly a forgery not to be considered as belonging to
the Hebrew Scriptures but an invention composed in Greek'39. But Porphyry
also used allegory when it benefited his thesis. When Daniel talks about the
end of time, there is an unambiguous passage about the resurrection of the
dead, which both Origen and Hippolytus understood literally40. According to
Jerome, Porphyry understood this passage metaphorically41. Porphyry was
familiar with the allegorical method, for he applied it himself to Homer42. But
we should not conclude that he was inconsistent; it is the use that Christians
made of this method that bothered him43.
In conclusion, there were elements in the book of Daniel that were shock
ing to a Neoplatonist. First, the allegorical method of interpretation required
'an unobjectionable meaning'44. A strict rhetorical precept in Greek philoso
phy states that an exemplum must be of the same nature as the object of which
'Porphyre, Ammonius, les deux Origene et les autres', Revue d'Histoire et de Philosophie
Religieuse 57 (1977), 475-6.
34 Origen Cels. 2.4; 5.42; J. Pepin, De la philospohie ancienne a la theologie patristique,
Collected Studies Series 228 (London, 1986), 47.
35 Jerome, Commentary on Daniel, Prologue; Croke, 175; Meredith, 1132.
36 This method led him, however, to the mistake of understanding the actual prophecies as
recorded in chapter 11 of Daniel as history. Wilken, 142.
37 Porphyry, Vita Plotini 14; Wilken, 131; Croke, 178; Labriolle, 398; A. Smith, 'Porphyr-
ian Studies since 1913', ANRW 2.36.2 (1987), 717-73, at 722; Bidez, 30 and 73; Boer, 199;
Meredith, 1133.
38 See Eusebius, HE 6.31.1 for the letter; see Jerome, Commentary on Daniel, Prologue and
13.54 on the Greek wordplay.
39 Jerome, Commentary on Daniel, Prologue.
40 Origen, Cels. 5.17-24 and 7. 32-35; Hippolytus, Commentary on Daniel 4.56.
41 Jerome, Commentary on Daniel 12.1-3.
42 Porphyry, Homeric Questions; Porphyry Cave of the Nymphs; Wilken, 131; Smith, 744;
A.B. Hulen, Porphyry's Work Against the Christians, An Interpretation, Yale Studies in Religion
1 (Scottdale, Pa., 1933), 19; J. Geffcken, The Last Days of Greco-Roman Paganism, tr. Sabine
MacCormack (Amsterdam, 1978), 61.
43 G. Madec, 'Chronique porphyrienne', REAug 15 (1969), 180; Smith, 742.
44 Smith, 744; Eusebius, HE 6.19.2.
186 A. Magny
the author speaks45. Second, Porphyry rejected the Christians' notion of uni
versal salvation and their interpretation of the end of time. Salvation could
only be acquired through moral and intellectual efforts, that is, not through
mere faith, and was specific to one people who could not impose it on oth
ers46. The idea of a Christian revelation and the idea that God was only acces
sible to those who knew Christ is thus incompatible with Porphyry's concep
tions47. Third, the Neoplatonist Logos and One are opposed to the ideas of
incarnation and revelation48. To Porphyry, God would only aspire to what is
superior, and would be lowered if reduced to human nature49. And the idea of
a new truth - of a revelation - is contrary to the Platonist belief in continuity
between truth and tradition50. Fourth, resurrection is an irrational concept to
Porphyry, who understood it as a transgression of the laws of nature. Accord
ing to Helene Whittaker, for Porphyry, 'Divine law can only be apprehended
by the rational part of the soul, and is unknown to impure souls because of
their folly and recklessness'51. Christians were thus too attached to the body52.
Finally, the Christian attitude toward martyrdom, as expressed by both Hip-
polytus and Origen, who strongly encouraged it, promoted Christian prose-
lytism, against which Porphyry wanted to defend Greek culture53. Porphyry's
ideas on Daniel may thus well have been inspired by the Christian exegetical
tradition of the third century.
45 Boer, 205.
46 On salvation see Porphyry Marc. 7.14, 24; H. Whittaker, 'The Purpose of Porphyry's Let
ter to Marcella', SO 76 (2001), 159; Meredith, 1123. On salvation see Augustine, Civ. 10.32;
Augustine, Ep. 102.8; Wilken, 163; Whittaker, 159.
47 Augustine, Ep. 102. 8; Whittaker, 159; Wilken, 163; Meredith, 1136.
48 Madec (1969), 179; H. Dorrie, 'Die Lehre von der Seele', in Porphyre: huit exposes suivis
de discussions, Entretiens sur l'antiquite classique 12 (Geneva, 1965), 173.
49 Madec, 179.
50 Ibid.
51 Porphyry, Marc. 26; Whittaker, 161.
52 Porphyry, Marc. 25.
53 On martyrdom see Hippolytus Commentary on Daniel 1.21; 2.21; and Origen, Cels. 2.16-
17; on the defence of Greek culture see Eusebius, PE 1.2.3-4 and 4.1.3; on Greek culture see
also Wilken, 136-7; E.D. Digeser, 'Lactantius, Porphyry, and the Debate over Religious Tolera
tion', JRS 88 (1998), 137-8; M. Frede, 'Celsus's Attack on the Christians', in Philosophia
Togata II: Plato and Aristotle at Rome, ed. J. Barnes and M. Griffin (Oxford, 1997), 237-8;
Whittaker, 156.
L'Ecriture, image des vertus:
la transformation d'un theme philonien dans
l'apologetique d'Eusebe de Cesaree
SSbastien Morlet, Paris
Malgre les travaux importants de D.T. Runia1, la dependance d'Eusebe de

Cesaree a l'egard de Philon reste encore a explorer, surtout dans le domaine de
l'exegese. II devient d'autant plus interessant aujourd'hui de tenter de combler
cette lacune qu'on s'intiresse de plus en plus a l'exegese d'Eusebe2.
Si Ton connait la place importante de Philon dans l'oeuvre apologetique
d'Eusebe, il est plus delicat de mesurer son influence sur l'exegese de l'eveque
de Cesaree. En avan?ant prudemment, on peut au moins partir de deux
remarques:
- Philon est explicitement loue par Eusebe comme un tres grand exegete:
YHistoire ecclesiastique le dit 'uexecopo<; £v xat<; el<; xa<; Seiai; ypacpa<;
Secopiau;'3 ('il a atteint des sommets dans les speculations concernant les
divines Ecritures').
- Cependant, la plupart des commentaires d'Eusebe, y compris les grands
commentaires tardifs4, sont essentiellement consacres a la demonstration
chretienne, et plus particulierement a l'exegese messianique.
II nous paralt donc 'normal' de nous attendre a ne pas trouver chez Eusebe
de dependance massive a l'egard de l'exegese philonienne, qui convenait mal
a son propos. Qu'il ait loue Philon a plusieurs reprises comme exegete eminent
n'implique pas qu'il l'ait jamais utilise. On pourrait cependant faire l'hypo-
these qu'Eusebe a pu etre dependant de la technique philonienne, a defaut de
l'etre du detail de son interpretation. Les quelques idees deja suggerees en ce
1 D.T. Runia, Philo in Early Christian Literature. A Survey (Assen, 1993), p. 212 sq. Egale-
ment J. Sirinelli, Les vues historiques d'Eusebe de Cesaree durant la periode preniceenne
(Paris, 1961), p. 149-51; J. Ulrich, Euseb von Caesarea und die Juden (Berlin - New York,
1999), p. 88-100; E.V. Gallagher, 'Prophecy and Patriarchs in Eusebius' Apologetic', dans R.M.
Berchman (6d.), Mediators of the Divine. Horizons of Prophecy, Divination, Dreams and
Theurgy in Mediterranean Antiquity (Atlanta, 1998), p. 203-23.
2 C. Curti, 'L'esegesi di Eusebio di Cesarea: caratteri e sviluppo', in Trasformazioni della
cultura nella Tarda Antichita. Atti del Convegno tenuto a Catania, Universita degli Studi, 27 sett.
-2 ott. 1982, I (Roma, 1985), p. 459-78; M.J. Hollerich, Eusebius ofCaesarea's Commentary
on Isaiah. Christian Exegesis in the Age of Constantine (Oxford, 1999).
3 ff£II.18.1;cf. /»£ VTI.12.14.
4 Sur Isaie et sur les Psaumes.
188 S. MORLET
sens nous semblent fragiles5, car il resterait a verifier que lorsque la tech
nique d'Eusebe ressemble a celle de Philon, elle ne depend pas plutot d'Ori-
gene, ou plus generalement de la 'tradition alexandrine'. II est certes possible
qu'Eusebe ait connu des etymologies philoniennes6, mais encore une fois, il
faudrait verifier qu'il ne les connait pas plutot par le biais de la tradition exe-
getique chretienne, ou par le manuel d'etymologies qu'il mentionne et attri-
bue a Philon7, mais qui n'est pas de lui. II nous semble donc qu'un travail
d'analyse pousse est necessaire avant de conclure quoi que ce soit, mime sur
le plan de la technique.
Pour revenir au fond de l'exegese, nous ne nous attendons pas a trouver
dans les commentaires d'Eusebe, essentiellement christologiques, de traces
d'une dependance massive a l'egard de l'exegese philonienne. Cela ne consti-
tue nullement une conclusion, mais seulement l"horizon d'attente' que nous
nous croyons en droit de postuler avant de lire Eusebe. Si son exegese se reve-
lait fortement dependante de Philon (l'enquete reste a mener), cela n'en serait
que plus interessant.
En quoi Philon a-t-il pu contribuer a la formation de l'exegese d'Eusebe?
Comment Eusebe a-t-il recu l'exegese de l'Alexandrin? C'est avec ces deux
questions a l'esprit que nous voudrions ici envisager l'un des aspects de cette
reception, neglige jusque la8 et pourtant essentiel, puisqu'il est au coeur de
l'entreprise apologetique d'Eusebe9: la conception des vies des patriarches
comme 'images des vertus'. Lorsqu'Eusebe caracterise les vies des patriarches
comme des 'images des vertus', il est debiteur de Philon sur le plan du voca-
bulaire et de la doctrine, mais se singularise par le sens nouveau qu'il leur
donne, et qui s'explique par les presupposes specifiques de son hermeneutique.
Cette doctrine est brievement signalee dans deux textes: l'un dans la Pre
paration evangelique, l'autre dans la Demonstration evangelique, c'est-a-dire
dans chacun des deux volets de la grande apologie d'Eusebe.
A chaque fois, il s'agit de ceux qu'Eusebe appelle les 'Hebreux', c'est-a-
dire les hommes justes d'avant Moi'se10, qu'il faut selon lui distinguer des
'juifs', soumis a la Loi, et dechus de la piete de leurs ancetres11. Chacun de ces
deux textes qualifie les vies des 'Hebreux' d"images' des vertus.
Le premier intervient a un moment clef de la Preparation12: dans le livre
VII, apres avoir analyse les theologies pai'ennes pour les refuter, Eusebe en
5 J. Ulrich, op. cit., p. 89, n. 199.
6 J. Ulrich, ibid., p. 98-9.
7 J. Ulrich, ibid., p. 99
8 D.T. Runia, op. cit., comme J. Ulrich, op. cit., p. 88 n'en parlent pas. Un apercu chez J. Siri-
nelli, op. cit., p. 149-50; G. Schroder, dans l' introduction des SC 215 (Paris, 1975). Plus recem-
ment, E.V. Gallagher, op. cit.
9 E.V. Gallagher, ibid., p. 212.
10 DE I.2.1.
11 DE I.4.6.
12 G. Schroeder, SC 215, Introduction.
L'Ecriture, image des vertus 189
vient a l'apologie des Ecritures hebraiques. La premiere partie de ce livre est

un catalogue des vies des 'Hebreux' destine a demontrer leur piete. Notre texte
en constitue le prologue:
cov Kai xd<; elKovou; xdiq xd 9eTa rcai8ei)ouevoii; Ttape8iSou, xou<; ptou<; kaxa-
Xiyav xaiv THxA,aicov Kai xf|v l8iaôuaav evd<; eKdaxou dp£xf|v &amp ev e'ikovi
ypacpfji; 8iaxuTtouu.evo<;13, il transmettait les images de leurs ancetres14 a ceux qui
recevaient les enseignements divins, passant en revue les vies des Anciens, et repre-
sentant comme en une image peinte la vertu caracteristique de chacun.
Dans le long prologue du livre V de la Demonstration, au sein d'une dis
cussion sur la superiorite de la prophetie hebrai'que sur la prophetie pai'enne,
Eusebe, dans sa louange de Moi'se, est amene a rappeler le texte de la Prepa
ration cite ci-dessus:
xcov SeooePcov loropia<; xcov rcdA.ai 9eocpiXcbv 'EPpaicov d»<rnep xiva; dptxrov
siKovai; bnox\mcoaa\ievoq elq t,f\Xov xcov &ya$5>\ dv8pcov xobq, uTtr|kooui; dveKi-
vr|aev15, esquissant les histoires des hommes pieux, les H6breux d'autrefois chers a
Dieu, comme des sortes d'images des vertus, il incita ses sujets a imiter les hommes
bons.
Ces deux textes sont tout a fait paralleles. De plus, la doctrine qu'ils expo-
sent est au cceur de la double apologie: si le petit texte de DE V est parallele
a celui de PE VII, il faut surtout rappeler que le catalogue de PE VII.8 est
donne a nouveau en DE I16. Au livre VII de la PE, la demonstration de la
'vertu' des Hebreux s'inscrit dans la controverse avec le paganisme, pour
prouver la superiorite de l'ethique (deja) chretienne sur l'ethique pai'enne.
Dans le premier livre de la DE, la meme doctrine est mise a contribution dans
la polemique antijuive, pour prouver la superiorite de la 'vertu' chretienne sur
la 'loi' juive.
La doctrine de ces deux textes est claire: Moi'se a ecrit les vies des Hebreux
(a) comme des 'images' (b) propres a inciter a la vertu. Nous examinerons
comment, dans ce propos, Eusebe assimile deux idees de Philon et en vient, de
ce fait, a dormer de la doctrine de l'Ecriture comme 'image des vertus' une
conception originate.
L'assimilation de deux theories philoniennes
Dans ce propos, Eusebe semble reprendre deux doctrines philoniennes: celle

des patriarches comme 'images' des vertus et celle des patriarches comme
modeles ethiques.
13 PE VH.7.4.
14 'civ' a vraisemblablement pour antecedent 'xoi<; oIkeiok; auxcov TtpoTcdxopctiv'.
15 DE V.Pr.20 ed. LA. Heikel, G.C.S. 23 (Leipzig, 1913), p. 206, 12-14.
16 DE I.6.
190 S. MORLET
a. II est bien connu que pour Philon, les patriarches sont des images, des
symboles de la vertu17, des modalites d'acquisition de la vertu18, ou
encore des vertus particulieres19.
b. Philon considere egalement les patriarches comme des modeles de vertu
propres a susciter l'imitation: dans le De Abrahamo 3-4, les vies des
patriarches sont presentees comme des modeles destines a l'edification
du lecteur.
Dans nos deux textes, Eusebe articule ces deux conceptions. Si les
patriarches sont des modeles20, c'est parce qu'ils sont des images des vertus.
La fusion de ces deux conceptions est encore plus manifeste lorsqu'on lit la
suite du passage tire de la PE, ou Noe est presente comme une '&pxex\moq
e!kcov'21. L'expression, quelque peu paradoxale, temoigne a sa maniere de
cette fusion des concepts philoniens. Certes, Philon applique assez souvent aux
patriarches l'expression 'ypacpf) &pxixvnoq'22: mais precisement, Eusebe ne
dit pas 'ypacpf)', mais bien 'elKcbv'. Cette reecriture n'est donc peut-etre pas
anodine, puisqu'elle temoignerait d'une assimilation, etrangere a Philon, des
deux representations des patriarches: comme archetypes, et comme 'images'.
Un nouveau sens donne a la doctrine de l'Ecriture comme 'image'
De cette fusion, la doctrine philonienne de 1 'image sort-elle indemne? II

semble que si l'Ecriture est 'image' chez Eusebe, ce soit seulement dans le
sens ou elle constitue un modele de vie: c'est une image exemplaire ('dpxe-
ximo<; elKcbv'... ). Cette dimension paradigmatique ne parait pas explicite
dans la conception philonienne de l'image.
Par ailleurs, lorsqu'on lit le catalogue des vies des Anciens qui fait suite au
texte que nous tirons de la PE, on s'apercoit que cette doctrine de l'image
n'implique pas de lecture allegorique. Dans la Preparation, si les patriarches
sont des 'images' des vertus, ce n'est plus comme chez Philon parce qu'ils
seraient des allegories, representant des realites abstraites, mais simplement
parce que leur vie est une illustration des vertus. Cette conception de l'image
reste litterale.
Eusebe mentionne seulement a un endroit la possibilite d'une lecture figuree
de la vie des Anciens, mais n'y consacre aucun developpement23. En l'absence
17 Entre autres Sarah (De congressu 6; Quis rerum divinarum heres 62).
18 Abraham (l'etude), Isaac (la nature), Jacob (l'exercice). Cf. De Iosepho 1.
19 Enos (l'espoir, De Abrahamo 7), Enoch (le repentir, ibid. 17), No6 (la justice, ibid. 27 et 46).
20 Sur leur caractere exemplaire, voir encore DE I.5.7: Job a 'laisse aussi a sa posterite un tres
grand exemple de vie pieuse'.
21 PE VII.8.18.
22 De virtutibus 51 et De Iosepho 87.
23 PE VII.8.29.
L'Ecriture, image des vertus 191
du traite perdu d'Eusebe sur les patriarches, auquel il renvoie dans ce passage,
nous ne saurons jamais ce que l'eveque de Cesaree pensait exactement de la
lecture allegorique de Philon. II devait sans doute la trouver acceptable, puis-
qu'il renvoie le lecteur a d'autres auteurs, parmi lesquels il faut certainement
reconnaitre Philon.
II est donc remarquable qu'Eusebe semble accepter l'exegese spirituelle
de Philon, mais qu'il ne la reprend pas dans son ceuvre apologetique. Dans
son traitement de la vie des Hebreux, Eusebe reste litteraliste24. II est tentant
d'expliquer ce choix du litteralisme par le contexte polemique de la PE et
de la DE, contexte oil la question exegetique etait devenue un enjeu fonda-
mental depuis les attaques de Celse25 et de Porphyre26 contre Yallegorisme
Chretien.
Mais il y a plus: l'analyse de ce meme contexte polemique pourrait bien
eclairer l'apport de Philon a l'apologie d'Eusebe. En effet, Celse et Porphyre
reprochaient aussi aux chretiens leur exegese christocentrique, qui tend a
voir dans l'A.T. des images du Christ ou du N.T27. On a deja remarque28
qu'Eusebe evite de pratiquer la lecture typologique consistant a considerer
les recits veterotestamentaires comme des annonces voilees des evenements
de la vie du Christ. En particulier, il prend ses distances avec l'exegese tra-
ditionnelle selon laquelle les patriarches seraient des 'types' du Christ. Mais
on pourrait aller plus loin. Compte tenu du contexte polemique dans lequel
ecrit Eusebe, il est facile de voir quelles solutions l'exegese de Philon pou-
vaient offrir contre les attaques lancees par les adversaires de la lecture typo
logique: l'exegese ethique constituait une alternative a l'exegese typologique
contestee. Eusebe a choisi, lorsqu'il presente les Hebreux, de privilegier le
theme ethique sur le theme messianique. Et s'il a pu le faire, c'est en grande
partie en mettant a profit l'exegese morale de Philon.
Pour conclure, la doctrine eusebienne de l'Ecriture comme 'image des ver
tus' presente une double specificite:
- Par rapport a la tradition chretienne, et particulierement a l'ex6gese d'Ori-
gene, si l'A.T. est bien toujours image de quelque chose, ce n'est plus du
24 J. Sirinelli, op. cit., p. 151: 'Eusebe se contente de brosser le portrait d'une serie de per-
sonnages eminents dans la sagesse et la vraie devotion, en insistant sur leur role historique, non
sur la courbe spirituelle dont ils ne seraient, selon Philon, que des symboles.' En fait, Eusebe
reprend tout de meme a son compte le terme d"image' (les 'symboles' de J. Sirinelli), meme s'il
se separe de Philon sur l'idee.
25 Origene, Contre Celse IV.50.
26 WE VI. 19.4.
27 Contre Celse 1I.28. Pour Porphyre, cf. A. Carlini, 'La polemica di Porfirio contro l'esegesi
'tipologica' dei cristiani', Studi classici e orientali 46, 1 (1996), p. 385-94.
28 Cf. M. Simonetti, Biblical Interpretation in the Early Church (Edinburgh, 1994), trad, de
Profilo storico dell'esegesi patristica (Roma, 1981), p. 56.
192 S. MORLET
Christ, mais des vertus (pour ce qui concerne les vies des patriarches - le
statut de l'epoque 'juive' ne nous concerne pas ici). II est piquant de
constater que dans nos textes, Eusebe utilise le terme 'eIka)v', si souvent
associe dans la tradition a la lecture typologique, dans un sens non plus
typologique, mais ethique. On notera d'ailleurs que c'est justement la ou
il n'est nullement question du Messie que la dependance d'Eusebe a
l'egard de Philon est la plus manifeste.
- Mais par rapport a Philon, Eusebe donne de 1" image' une conception non
plus all6gorique, mais litterale. Le terme comporte par ailleurs une conno
tation d'exemplarite qui ne semble pas se trouver chez Philon.
Ce deux conclusions fournissent peut-etre un debut de reponse aux deux
questions que nous posions en introduction: elles permettent dans ce cas pre
cis de suggerer des hypotheses sur la maniere dont Philon a pu contribuer a la
formation de l'exegese et de l'apologetique d'Eusebe, et sur la facon dont
Eusebe et le contexte polemique tres particulier dans lequel s'est formee son
hermeneutique ont pu determiner une certaine reception de l'ceuvre de
l'Alexandrin.
The Use of Tobit and Revelation in the
Apostolic Constitutions: Corrections of the Critical Edition
Joseph G. Mueller, S.J., Milwaukee
The best and most recent critical edition of the late fourth-century, Syrian
Apostolic Constitutions {AC) notes putative citations of and allusions to Tobit
and Revelation, two books which never appear on any of the several lists of
biblical books contained in this work1. It seems preferable to explain all of
these citations and allusions as references to other sources. Many passages in
Revelation contradict the author's neo-Arian view of Trinitarian orthodoxy,
while the whole plot of Tobit revolves around the use of a cpapuaKov, some
thing AC 7.3.1 expressly forbids in its interpretation of Exodus 22:17. Such
doctrinal clashes might help explain the anonymous redactor's decision to set
aside these two books.
In addition to indications on books to be read at Eucharist at AC 2.57.5-7
and 5.19.3, the last of the 85 Apostolic Canons (8.47.85) provides a quite
detailed list of the redactor's sacred scriptures. Tobit and Revelation are not
mentioned on these lists, and the explicit numbering and naming of all the
books on the last of them leads one to conclude it is exhaustive. The redactor's
reworking of the Didascalia's polemic against pagan books (1.6) and his own
critique of false biblical books (6.16) confirm this impression. Does the redac
tor of the AC, then, intentionally use Tobit and Revelation in the places indi
cated in the scriptural apparatus and index of the Sources chretiennes edition?
That edition points out four putative quotations of Tobit and one allusion
to this book. In none of these do the AC explicitly mention the Book of
Tobit. Three of the quotations are versions of the Golden Rule obviously
portrayed as drawn from scripture. The editor generously notes that they fol
low 'more or less literally' the tenor of Tobit 4: 15. But he reminds us further
that the Golden Rule is a 'universal maxim many examples of which are fur
nished as much by pagan literature as by Jewish and Christian"2. Indeed, the
New Testament includes several variations: Matthew 7:12; Luke 6:31; and
one version of Acts 15:20, 29. The citations in AC 1.1.7, 3.15.3 are taken
over from the Didascalia, and, as in that source, they appear to mix together
1 Marcel Metzger, ed., Les constitutions apostoliques, 3 vols, SC 320, 329, 336 (Paris: Edi
tions du Cerf, 1985-87).
2 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 107 n.
194 J.G. Mueller
elements from Tobit 4:15 (mainly the verb 'to hate' and putting the com
mand in the second person singular) and Acts 153. In 7.2.1, the redactor
explains the Golden Rule we find in other versions of the Didache 1.2
(which is close to that in Acts 15) by putting in apposition another version
that has the same two characteristic elements from Tobit 4:15. The Gottin-
gen Septuagint takes this latter version as a witness to this verse of Tobit,
which has dropped out of the Codex Sinaiticus4. But given the many and var
ied versions of this short maxim, there seems no need to explain these three
passages of the AC as intentional scriptural references to a book that does not
appear in the canon of the bible recognized by the redactor.
In 8.44.3, the redactor of the AC expressly gives the position of scripture
regarding drink: uf] rciveiv oivov el<; ue6r|v. The Sources chretiennes edition
sees here an allusion to the second part of Tobit 4:15. But given the absence
of Tobit from the scriptural canon of the AC, one could ask if it would not be
better to look rather in Joel 1:5, where the word of the Lord says, Gpr|vf|aaxe,
Tcdvxei; ol rcivovcec; otvov eiq neGr|v. At any rate, the editor is right not to see
here a quotation in the strict sense, but an allusion. The AC can explain very
well this general position of the bible on drinking without reference to a non-
canonical book. Finally, the redactor's reference to woman as the helper of
man in AC 6.14.4 looks more like an allusion to Genesis 2: 18 than to a non-
biblical Tobit 8:6, which is citing the Genesis text in any case5.
Of all the quotations of Revelation pointed out in the Sources chretiennes
edition of the AC, none of them refer explicitly to this book, omitted from the
scriptural canon by the redactor. In 5.20.2, we read a text that follows the
Didascalia in applying the prophecy of Zachariah 12:10, 12 to the parousia of
Christ, as Revelation 1:7 does, but not with the same words. The text of AC
2.56.3 brings the original text behind the Syriac Didascalia (the Latin is miss
ing here) nearer to Revelation 7:9 by replacing 'peoples and cities' with 'peo
ples and languages'6. But the word order differs from that of the Revelation
verse, following, in fact, that of Daniel 4:21. In 8.9.3, the redactor mentions
inscription into the book of life, but without using articles as Revelation 3:5,
20:15 does. But he refers to an idea widespread enough to allow us not to
attribute its presence here to a scriptural quotation of Revelation. As for the
supposed quotation in AC 8.12.35, these words do not reproduce exactly the
3 Compare E. Tidner (ed.), Didascaliae apostolorum canonum ecclesiasticorum traditionis

apostolicae versiones latinae, TU 75 (Berlin: Akademia-Verlag, 1963), p. 4; The Didascalia
apostolorum in Syriac, tr. Arthur Voobus, 2 vols, CSCO 402, 408 = Syr 176, 180 (Louvain:
Secretariat du Corpus SCO, 1979), I, 11 n. 22; II, 155, n. 128.
4 Willy Rordorf and Andre Tuilier (eds), La doctrine des douze Apotres (Didache), SC 248
(Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1978), p. 142; Robert Hanhart (ed.), Tobit, Septuaginta: Vetus Testa-
mentum Graecum VIII, 5 (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1983), p. 23.
5 Compare Didascalia apostolorum in Syriac, Chap. XXIV, pp. 214-15.
6 Compare ibid.. Chap. XXII, p. 129.
The Use of Tobit and Revelation in the Apostolic Constitutions 195
text of Revelation 11:17, the text supposedly quoted here. In addition, the
formula 'we give you thanks' is so common that we would have trouble
attributing it to a single Christian source. Finally, David Fiensy thinks these
words 'we give you thanks' go back to a text that has its source in a prayer of
the Jewish synagogue7. Again, when, in 8.40.2, we read a prayer to God under
the common title 'Lord almighty', nothing obliges us to see here a quotation of
Revelation 11:17.
Among the allusions to Revelation noted by the Sources chretiennes edition
of the AC, the one in 2.26.1 comes as close to Isaiah 61 : 10 as it does to Rev
elation 21 :2. The AC express at 2.60.3 and 5.19.1 an idea that does not need,
in the fourth century, Revelation 2:9, 3:9 to explain its presence in Christian
minds: the Jews who refuse to follow Jesus are falsely called Jews. Further
more, AC 2.26.1 and 5.19.1 seem to come over unchanged from their source in
the Didascalia, but Georg Strecker has shown that one cannot be sure that this
third-century work cites Revelation, and Arthur Voobus's edition of the Syriac
notes no citations from it8.
Prudence appears to lead to the conclusion that the redactor of the AC did
not intentionally refer to Tobit or Revelation, while omitting them from his
canon of scripture. He would have then followed the same practice evidenced
in his commentary on Job and in his expanded version of the letters of Ignatius
of Antioch, two works which have ample room, at least, for the moral teach
ing and examples usually drawn from Tobit in the ancient Church9.
Having already averred that all the holy books are good for the education of
xeKva, vf|rcioi, and rcaT8e<; (4.1 1.1-4), the redactor of the AC attributes to Sir-
ach a status outside the rest of the Old Testament books (8.47.85). Christians
should use this book for the instruction of those young in the faith or recently
converted (xoix; veoix;), that is to say, the new catechumens10. In the tradition
of Origen, Athanasius' thirty-ninth festal letter reserved for catechumens sev
eral books that were received but not canonical. These writings differed from
the canonical books because they included neither veiled doctrine nor myster
ies. Before reading the canonical books, catechumens would find in these
deuterocanonicals an exhortation to flee idolatry and sin11. The redactor of the
7 D.A. Fiensey, Prayers Alleged to Be Jewish: An Examination of the Constitutiones Apos-

tolorum, Brown Judaic Studies, 65 (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1985), p. 187.
8 'Nachtrag', in W. Bauer, Rechtgldubigkeit und Ketzerei im altesten Christentum, 2nd ed.
rev. by G. Strecker, Beitrage zur historischen Theologie 10 (Tubingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul
Siebeck), 1964), pp. 252-3 n. 6, 261.
9 See Dieter Hagedorn (ed.), Der Hiobkommentar des Arianers Julian, PTS 14 (Berlin: Wal
ter de Gruyter, 1973); Franciscus Xavierus Funk (ed.), 'S. Ignatii epistularum recensio longior',
in Patres apostolici, vol. II, 3rd ed. rev. by Franciscus Diekamp (Tubingen: Heinrich Laupp,
1893), pp. 94-269.
10 PGL, p. 904.
11 Eric Junod, 'La formation et la composition de l'Ancien Testament dans l'Eglise grecque
des quatre premiers siecles', in J.-D. Kaestli and O. Wermelinger (eds), Le canon de l'Ancien
196 J.G.Mueller
AC appears to restrict the rubric of books for new catechumens simply to Sir-
ach. Thus, the AC do something that no other known ancient Christian practice
does: they separate Tobit from all the other usual deuterocanonicals, entirely
rejecting the former while accepting all the latter in one way or another12. We
might well ask why.
The redactor of the AC could have objected to the repeated recourse to a
cpdpLiaKov that the long recension of Tobit attributes to the title character's
ineffectual doctors (2:10) and to his son Tobias at the angel's suggestion
(6:5-9; 1 1 :8-16). In fact, the magico-medical use of a fish's heart, liver, and
bile brings about the cure and exorcism that resolve the entire plot of the
book. The redactor of the AC could have considered such a story as opposed
to the apostolic doctrine he found in the Didache and confirmed through his
quotation of Exodus 22: 17 at AC 7.3.1 and at 2.62.2. The fact that the shorter
Greek recension of Tobit excises all explicit mention of a tpdpuaKOv may
indicate that using this same term for a reprehensible, ineffective human
practice and for a divinely provided cure looked inconsistent or somehow
problematic to some pre-Christian readers of Tobit13. Even without this
Greek term, the plot of the shorter version of Tobit still revolves entirely
around Tobit and Tobias practicing magico-medical cures revealed by an
angel of the God who forbade such things in a part of his law the redactor
quotes twice. He could have set this book aside for that reason, notwith
standing the defence, in Sirach 38: 1-15, of recourse to cpapnaKa provided by
God in nature.
In the fourth century, contrasting local traditions usually seem to determine
whether Eastern Christians accept Revelation as canonical or not. At this time
Eastern Syria, Antioch, and Palestine seem not to acknowledge this book as
scripture, while Alexandria and Ephiphanius accept it into their New Testa
ment14. But the redactor of the AC canonizes all the Catholic epistles, and the
two letters of Clement, and the AC themselves, all of which puts this list of the
scriptures outside of the discernible local traditions of Syria and Antioch on
Testament. Sa formation et son histoire (Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1984), pp. 127-8, 132, 142;
Origen, Horn. 17.1, in Homilies sur les Nombres, tr. A. M6hat, SC 29 (Paris: Editions du Cerf,
1951), pp. 512-13.
12 Johann Gamberoni, Die Auslegung des Buches Tobias in der griechisch-lateinischen
Kirche der Antike und der Christenheit des Westens bis um 1600, Studien zum Alten und Neuen
Testament 21 (Munich: Kosel, 1969), pp. 34-6, 54-5, 99.
13 Loren T. Stuckenbruck, 'The Book of Tobit and the Problem of "Magic"', in Hermann
Lichtenberger and Gerbern S. Oegema (eds), Judische Schriften in ihrem antik-jiidischen und
urchristlichen Kontext, Studien zu den Jiidischen Schriften aus hellenistisch-romischer Zeit 1
(Gutersloh: Gutersloher, 2002), pp. 258-69.
14 Andrt Heinze, Johannesapokalypse und johanneische Schriften: Forschungs- und tradi-
tionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen, Beitrage zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament
142 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1998), pp. 51-66, 69-78.
The Use of Tobit and Revelation in the Apostolic Constitutions 197
this question15. We can well ask, then, why the redactor of the AC excludes the
Book of Revelation from the New Testament, while working in the vicinity of
Antioch.
Some Greek-speaking Christians of the time were suspicious of Revelation,
apparently because they doubted that it was written by an apostle16. But the AC
includes in its New Testament two letters explicitly attributed to Clement, who
is not one of the apostles (6.9.1).
Heinze thinks that the neo-Arian theology of the AC cannot explain the
redactor's rejection of Revelation since some pro-Nicenes rejected this book,
too. But I respond that ten of the twelve references to Revelation that Heinze
notes in the works of Athanasius, Didymus, Basil the Great, Gregory of
Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nyssa form part of criticisms against positions
denying the consubstantial divinity of Jesus or the Spirit17. The neo-Arian
redactor of the AC, whose reworking of his sources betrays his desire to take a
position in the Trinitarian debates of the day, could easily have known that
these highly visible opponents of his theology used Revelation to their advan
tage. In addition, he could have found in Revelation supposedly heavenly dox-
ologies granting coordinate glory to God and to the Lamb, not to God through
the Lamb (5: 13; 7:10); the application of Isaiah's title for God, the First and
the Last, to the Lamb (1 :8, 17; 2:8; 22: 13); and God's throne depicted as that
of the Lamb seated in its centre, not on its right (3:21 ; 7:17; 22: 1, 3). All of
this flies in the face of the theology of the AC, which rework their sources to
show glory only going through Christ to God, to distinguish titles and roles for
God and Christ, and to put the latter at the subordinate right of the former18.
Perhaps, then, the theology of the redactor of the AC can help to explain his
omission of Revelation from the canon of scripture.
Thus, it is highly likely that the AC remain self-consistent by avoiding the
use of Tobit and Revelation, two books omitted from the redactor's canon of
scriptures. Good reasons can lead us to hypothesize that at least this neo-Arian
churchman of the late fourth-century was willing to contradict local tradition
in order to tailor the biblical canon to the ethical and theological doctrine he
judged to be authentically apostolic.
15 Ibid., pp. 68, 81-2; Chapter 2 of my study, L'Ancien Testament dans l'ecclesiologie des
Peres. Une lecture des Constitutions apostoliques, Instrumenta patristica et mediaevalia 41
(Turnhout: Brepols, 2004).
16 Georg Kretschmar, Die Offenbarung des Johannes: Die Geschichte ihrer Auslegung im 1.
Jahrtausend, Calwer Theologischen Monographien, Ser. B: Systematische Theologie und
Kirchengeschichte 9 (Stuttgart: Calwer, 1985), pp. 77-8.
17 Heinze, pp. 58-60, 73-6, 80.
18 See Chapter 1 of L'Ancien Testament dans l'ecclesiologie des Peres.
II Liber adversariorum nel Commento a Giovanni di
Cirillo Alessandrino
Domenico Pazzini, Verucchio
1. obauodOiq n£pi£xo\i£\oq
Gv 14, 10-11: 'Non credi che io sono nel Padre e il Padre in me . . . ? ' II libro
IX del Commento a Giovanni di Cirillo riporta un frammento ariano: 'II Figlio,
contenuto sostanzialmente (ouctico8ok; Tcepiex6uevo<;) dal Padre, ha il Padre
in se che pronuncia le parole e opera i segni. II Figlio intende questo dichia-
rando: le cose che vi dico non le dico da me, ma il Padre che e in me fa le
opere lui stesso'1. Oumco8co<; rceptexonevo<;, sostanzialmente contenuto. II
Figlio e sostanzialmente contenuto dal Padre. L'espressione e nuova nel lin-
guaggio ariano. Ambigua o sottile? Cirillo ne sottolinea l'ambiguita. Se per un
verso potrebbe essere compatibile con l'homousios2, per altro verso suggerisce
l'idea materializzante di un'ousia circoscritta (rcercepac7uevr|), corpo circo-
scritto da altro corpo3.
Atanasio, CAr 3.1.2 riporta questa considerazione ariana: 'Come pud questo
(il Figlio) avere luogo (xcopeiv) in quello (il Padre) e quello in questo; o come
pud il Padre, che e piu grande, avere luogo nel Figlio, che e piu piccolo?'4 Per
Atanasio questa posizione sottintende una rappresentazione materializzante
deU'immanenza reciproca di Padre e Figlio, quasi che il pieno del Padre riem-
pia il vuoto del Figlio e viceversa5, cosi come Cirillo considera materializzante
l'esegesi ariana. Ma nell'intenzione degli ariani di Atanasio la rappresenta
zione materializzante del rapporto Padre e Figlio, quale si da nel termine
Xcopetv, viene esclusa. II termine e ancora lontano daH'assumere il significato
della piu tarda perichoresi. Analogamente si deve ritenere che il termine
Ttepiexonevo<; nell'intenzione degli ariani di Cirillo e sprovvisto di un signi
ficato materializzante. Va dunque concluso che, se gli ariani di Cirillo usano in
1 6 xoivuv Yioq oucncooak; Ttepiex6nevoc. wto xou naxpoq, xov Flaxepa ev tama
§Xei xa pr|uaxa cpGeyyonevov Kai xd ar|ueia eTcixeXoCvxa' 0Ttep epnr|Veuei Xsycov & eycb
A.a>.cb univ &n' enauxou 06 )mX&, 6 8e naxf|p ev enoI hevcov rcoiei xa gpya auxo<; (ComJn
9.1, 785 d).
2 ComJn 9.1, 786 b.
3 ComJn 9.1, 787 c; cfr. anche 786 bc. Impossibility logica di applicare il termine Ttepioxrj
al Figlio (787 bC).
4 Ath., CAr 3.1.2 (PG 26, 321 C; AW 1/1, p. 306.10-13).
5 Ath., CAr 3.1.5 (PG 26, 524 B; AW 1/1, p. 307.26-28).
200 D. Pazzini
senso positivo l'espressione oumco8co<; rcepiexouevo<; per dire l'immanenza

del Figlio nel Padre, non dobbiamo attribuire a questa espressione il senso
materializzante che ha il xcopeiv escluso dagli ariani di Atanasio. Altrimenti
occorrerebbe supporre una contraddizione fra i due testi ariani riportati da Ata
nasio e da Cirillo. Piu probabile un'evoluzione: l'esclusione del xcopeiv, per il
senso inevitabilmente materializzante, fa arretrare il pensiero degli ariani di
Atanasio difronte all 'idea deH'immanenza del Figlio nel Padre; gli ariani di
Cirillo entrano in questa idea con una terminologia che superi il limite del
xcopeiv6.
Nello stesso contesto Cirillo riporta un altro frammento, che ripete per tre
volte con leggere variazioni: 'Come noi, che siamo detti essere in lui, abbiamo
l'ipostasi non mescolata rispetto a lui (dniyf) npbq auxov), allo stesso modo il
Figlio, che si trova nel Padre, ha l'ousia differenziata (8iaKeKpiu6vr|v)
rispetto all'ingenerato'7. Oticia 8iaKeKpiuevr| suona quasi simile a ouaia
TtSTtepaauevr|, cioe all'espressione a cui Cirillo ha piegato il concetto di'so-
stanzialmente contenuto'. E prova dell'attendibilita dell'interpretazione di
Cirillo? Ma l'idea e diversa. Non l'idea di una circoscrizione spaziale, corpo
circoscritto da altro corpo, ma l'idea di una delimitazione individualizzante:
ente che ha i tratti individuali diversi da quelli di altro ente. Arriviamo pertanto
alla comparazione dei due frammenti: l'ousia abbracciata dal Padre del primo
frammento coesiste con l'ousia differenziata del secondo frammento8: non e
usato il termine ipostasi per indicare l'ousia differenziata, come ci si aspette
6 M.-O. Boulnois, Le paradoxe trinitaire chez Cyrille d'Alexandrie. Hermeneutique, analyses

philosophiques et argumentation theologique (Paris, 1994), 538, nota l'elemento nuovo della
citazione fatta da Cirillo rispetto alla citazione fatta da Atanasio. Aggiungo che la novita non si
da secondo l'interpretazione materializzante di Cirillo che significa semplicemente il rovescia-
mento della posizione riportata da Atanasio: se gli ariani di Atanasio escludono che Gv 14, 10 e
Gv 14, 28 ('... il Padre e maggiore di me') possano intendersi come rapporto fra pieno e vuoto,
contenuto e contenente, l'espressione ariana riportata da Cirillo (o6aico8cb<; Ttepiex6u,evo<;), se
interpretata nel senso materializzante di Cirillo, intende il dimorare reciproco di Gv 14, 10-11
come corpo circoscritto da altro corpo.
7 &XX' cfioTtep fineT<; £v afrcco elvai Xeyo\ievoi ... dntyfj npo<; auxov 8xonev xf|v urco-
cTxamv, xov a6xov xporcov Kai 6 YI6<; £v xaj Flaxpi xuyxavcov 8iaKeKpiuivr|v xou dyevfixou
gxet xf|v ouoiav (ComJn 9.1, 792 c; cft. anche 797 a, 798 b).
8 Boulnois, Paradoxe, 541, traduce in forma sillogistica il secondo frammento: 'Ce raisonne-
ment peut etre r6sum6 sous la forme du syllogisme suivant: Nous sommes dits etre en lui selon
Act 17, 28 (En lui nous avons la vie, le mouvement et l'etre); or notre hypostase n'est pas melee
a la sienne; donc le Fils, qui est dans le Pere, ne peut pas avoir la meme substance que l'inen-
gendre'. Notiamo nel frammento la comparativa, come ... cosi: 'Come noi abbiamo l'ipostasi
non mescolata rispetto a lui, cosi il Figlio ha l'ousia differenziata dall'Unigenito.' Non e irrile-
vante il passaggio ipostasi/ousia. Ipostasi nel senso di ousia? Ma la nota sul non mescolamento
sembra conferire ad ipostasi il carattere di segno individualizzante. Non dico d'altra parte che
ousia differenziata vada inteso nel senso di ipostasi, che il senso di ousia sia attratto in quelle di
ipostasi. II frammento denota certamente un'incertezza terminologica, cosi come l'espressione
'sostanzialmente contenuto' del primo frammento. Non e improbabile che si assista ad un lento
processo che giunga a differenziare fra ipostasi e ousia e ad esprimerne il rapporto.
D Liber adversariorum nel Commento a Giovanni di Cirillo Alessandrino 201
rebbe dall'analogia con l'ipostasi dell'uomo, probabilmente perche il pensiero

esita e rimane un passo al di qua rispetto alla distinzione ousia comune/ipostasi
differenziata. Ma sembra comunque che la posizione ariana nel suo evolversi
intenda portare avanti il piu possibile entro la terminologia ousia comune/ipo
stasi differenziata (probabilmente per deprivarla del suo valore dimostrativo)
l'analogia di fondo che colloca il Figlio nell'ordine creaturale: il Figlio e nel
Padre come noi siamo nel Figlio.
2. ev Becj / 5id Oeoo
Nel medesimo contesto Cirillo riporta un altro frammento:

Poiche' a te sembra giusto che lo essere in Dio (ev Geco elvai) possa essere inteso per
mezzo di Dio (8ia GeoC), perche vanamente prendi in giro? Perche' insisti con accuse
di empieta quando asseriamo che il Figlio e stato fatto per mezzo del Padre
(TteTtoifjaGai 8ia xou Iiaxpo<;)? Lui stesso dice sono nel Padre al posto di per mezzo
del Padre (£v xcp Flaxpi, dvxi xou 8id xoG Ilaxpoc;), secondo il tuo discorso e il modo
abituale offertoci dalle Scritture9.
L'equivalenza £v/8ia e fondata sulla Scrittura, replica Cirillo, solo quando e
riferita al rapporto Dio - creatura. La creatura, che e in Dio, e fatta per mezzo
di lui. Ma l'equivalenza non si puo applicare al rapporto Padre/Figlio. Non si
pud dire che il Figlio, poiche e nel Padre, e fatto per mezzo di lui10.
Nel frammento puo esserci una coloritura eunomiana? II lavorare
sulF'essere in' e il tratto comune a questi frammenti, pertinenti d'altronde Gv
14, 10-11, '... sono nel Padre e il Padre in me ...' Vi sono diversi approcci,
anche con qualche contraddizione. A proposito della prima espressione del
prologo, 'In principio era il Logos', YAdversus Eunomium di Gregorio di
Nissa riporta un brano delYApologia Apologiae di Eunomio che asserisce che
l''essere in' e cosa diversa da 'principio' e che vi e una differenza qualitativa
fra 'essere in' ed 'essere'11. II primo libro del Commento a Giovanni di Cirillo
riporta un lungo frammento, attribuito ai seguaci di Eunomio, che riprende
l'antica distinzione fra Logos immanente e Logos profferito per discernere due
modi radicalmente differenti dello 'essere in': il modo proprio di Dio, costi-
tuito dal Logos immanente, e il modo, stigma del creaturale, costituito dal
9 £nei aoi 8okei kou 6pGd><; exeiv cpaivexai xo iv ©eco eivai Kai voeiaGai 8ta ©eoC, xi
ndxr|v KaxacpA.uapeii;; xi 8e xoi<; 8uacpt|pia<; eyKA,fmaaiv urcoxiGth;, oxav nenoir\aQai 8ia
xou tlaxpbq 8iaxeiva>neGa xov Ylov; 18oi) yap auxo<; cpr|aiv, 6xi iya &v xcp Ilaxpi, dvxi xou
8id xou Ilaxpoi;, Kaxd ye xov aov ... Xoyov, Kai xf)v dpxicoi; f|u.iv ek xa>v lepcbv ypanu-dxcov
napevexGetaav auvf|Geiav (ComJn 9.1, 794 e).
10 ComJn 9.1, 795 de.
11 GNO II Eun 3.8.34 (251.18-23). Cfr. D. Pazzini, // Prologo di Giovanni in Cirillo di Ales
sandria (Brescia, 1997), 187-9.
202 D. Pazzini
Logos profferito12. Nel frammento riportato nel libro IX del Commento a Gio
vanni di Cirillo si da l'attrazione dello 'essere in' nello 'essere per mezzo di'.
Dunque una successione: differenza fra 'essere' e 'essere in', differenza
entro lo 'essere in', attrazione dello'essere in' nello 'essere per mezzo di'. La
cosa puo essere vista come incertezza, incoerenza di pensiero. E lo e. Ma se
Cirillo dice che l'equivalenza £v/8id puo essere applicata al rapporto Dio -
creatura e non al rapporto Padre - Figlio, anche l'avversario in linea di princi-
pio potrebbe via via giustificare le differenti rappresentazioni sulla base di
contesti scritturali differenti.
3. II Liber
Rimane il problema se vi sia una certa organicita fra i frammenti riportati da

Cirillo nel Commento a Giovanni. Si trovano soprattutto nel libro IX e X in
rapporto all'esegesi di Gv 14, 10-11; Gv 14, 28; Gv 15, 1.
1. II Figlio e contenuto sostanzialmente dal Padre. Lo abbiamo esaminato.
2. Comparazione 2 Cor 13, 3 e Gv 14, 1: come Paolo dice di avere in se
Cristo che parla ed agisce, cosi il Figlio ha in se il Padre che parla e agi-
sce13.
3. Come noi siamo in lui senza avere l'ipostasi mescolata rispetto a lui, cosi
il Figlio e nel Padre avendo un'ousia differente rispetto all'ingenerato.
Lo abbiamo esaminato.
4. Equivalenza fra 'essere in Dio' e 'essere mediante Dio'. Lo abbiamo esa
minato.
5. Gv 14, 28 '... il Padre e maggiore di me': poiche la comparazione si da
solo fra omogenei e non fra eterogenei, l'espressione va riferita alla divi-
nita del Figlio e non al Cristo nella carne14.
6. Gv 15, 1 'lo sono la vera vite, il Padre mio e l'agricoltore' : la differenza
di genere e di specie (dAAoyevfj 8e xauxa Kai 6xep6cpiAa rcavxeA,co<;)
fra vite e agricoltore contesta che il Figlio sia homoousios rispetto al
Padre, applicandosi la denominazione di vite non al Cristo nella carne
ma alla divinita del Figlio15.
I frammenti contenuti nel libro IX, relativi all'esegesi di Gv 14, 10-11, pro-
vengono da un libro degli avversari, da un PipA,i8iov, come lo chiama Cirillo:
xoiyapoCv £vexuxov |3ipA,i8iap xcov 8i" £vavxia<;, mi sono imbattuto in un
piccolo libro degli avversari16. Nel riportare poi il singolo frammento Cirillo
12 ComJn 1.4, 30 de; cfr. Pazzini, Prologo, 192-200.

13 ComJn 9.1, 788 b.
14 ComJn 10.1, 846 de.
15 Comln 10.2, 860 bcd.
16 ComJn 9.1, 785 d.
II Liber adversariorum nel Commento a Giovanni di Cirillo Alessandrino 203
usa a volte il singolare17, a volte il plurale18, riferendosi ambiguamente o al

testo o all'autore o agli autori. Nel libro X si parla, nel frammento relativo a
Gv 14, 28, di un eretico che ha affidato alla scrittura (ypacpfj rcapa868coKev)
le sue calunnie contro l'Unigenito19; e nel frammento relativo a Gv 15, 1
Cirillo sintetizza (Kaxaaxr|aouev gweXovxeq) gli argomenti che qualcuno
degli avversari ha posto in lunghe righe (£v uaKpoi<; onvxeGeiKe <yzixoiq)20.
Si tratta di un unico scritto? Sono tre scritti diversi? E gli altri frammenti
ariani ed eunomiani riportati nel Commento, soprattutto quelli del I libro,
appartengono a scritti ancora diversi o al medesimo? De Durand ritiene che
non si possa parlare di un commento ariano completo del Vangelo di Giovanni
ma di brani provenienti da omelie21. Va comunque fatto un lavoro sistematico
su tutto il Commento a Giovanni per recuperare citazioni dirette e indirette,
che allargano certamente la conoscenza dell'esegesi ariana e cunomiana e
soprattutto ci consentono di conoscerla nel suo sviluppo nel V secolo: se per
un verso essa ritorna su testimonia studiatissimi, per altro verso si volge a
testimonia non affrontati o poco affrontati, tratti dal Vangelo di Giovanni. A
me pare di ravvisare una continuita che, concludendo, esprimerei cosi : la fon-
damentale analogia (unita Figlio/Padre come unita Paolo/Cristo, credente/Cri-
sto) sospinge la posizione ariana a lavorare sui termini di ousia e ipostasi, a
cogliere l' ipostasi del Figlio, a precisare il senso dell 'ousia comune, a svilup-
pare una metafisica dell"essere collocato', di cui si possono segnalare diverse
fasi, contemporaneamente al rifiuto di una cristologia della differenza fra eco-
nomia e teologia, carne e Logos, umano e divino.
17 Xeyovxa (785 d); ... ^nxeixco ... 6 alpexiKo<; (788 a); ctkoTto<; yap afrtc*) (788 c); ypa-
q>ei xoivuv <b5i (792 c); cpriaiv 6 xcov 6XeGpicoV 8oyndxcov Ttpoeaxr|Kco<; (794 e); £pei 8e 8f)
TtdXtv (795 e).
18 Gaun&£co 8e orcco<; 06 Kaxe8eiaav ... elTteTv (788 b); xhe, Ttap' £Keivcov auKocpavxiai; ...
(788 d); cpdorKOVxe<; eivai aoepoi ... (795 a); <rK0Tt6<; e{<; ahxdiq ... (796 e); cpaoiv (798 b); ol
5i' ^vavxia<; (800 d).
" ComJn 10.1,846 b.
20 ComJn 10.2, 860 b.
21 Cyrille d'Alexandrie, Dialogues sur la Trinite I, SC 231(Paris, 1976), 31-2.
Wisdom in St Maximus the Confessor
Marcus Plested, Cambridge
Notwithstanding the striking renaissance of interest in Maximus the Confes

sor over the last century or so, the theme of wisdom in his work is not one that
has attracted any sustained or systematic scholarly attention. This oversight is
not the result of the intrinsic obscurity and insignificance of the subject -
'neglected' areas within contemporary scholarship have often been neglected
for good reason - rather, as I intend to show, wisdom constitutes a 'master
theme' of Maximus' theological synthesis. A sustained study of the theme (to
which this paper is but a prolegomenon) promises to open up fresh perspec
tives on the nature and coherence of Maximus' theological vision. In this brief
paper I shall sketch a number of the ways in which the theme is explored by
Maximus and conclude with some provisional remarks concerning the charac
ter and significance of Maximian sophiology.
Much of Maximus' understanding of wisdom comes, naturally, from his
meditation on the plentiful references to wisdom in scripture. He picks up on
many of the various dimensions of biblical wisdom literature: the role of wis
dom in the context of human and divine paideia; wisdom in its cosmological
aspect, particularly associated with the work of creation; and wisdom as a
quality of the divine being. Maximus' understanding of wisdom is very much
a product of his own direct engagement with scripture, shaped and informed
by his deep and searching knowledge of the long tradition of patristic reflec
tion on the theme. Wisdom is, moreover, the guiding principle of Maximus'
hermeneutics. In the Questions to Thalassius he rounds off a complex discus
sion of a difficult and fairly unpromising passage of scripture1 with the obser
vation that nothing is ever written in vain by the Holy Spirit, even if we can
not receive or understand it:
All things [in scripture] are mystically and opportunely [disposed] for the sake of
human salvation, of which wisdom is the beginning and the end - wisdom which in the
beginning brings fear, but in the end constitutes the fulfilment of desire2.
1 Nehemiah 7:66-69 - numbers on men, servants, musicians, horses, mules, camels, and asses
in Israel.
2 QT 55 (p. 513.526-529). Note on citations to works of Maximus: QT = Carl Laga and Car
los Steel (eds), Quaestiones ad Thalassiwn CCSG 7, 22; (Louvain, 1980, 1990); Amb. =
Ambiguorum liber (PG 91, 1031-1418); Myst. = Mystagogia (PG 91, 658-718).
206 M. Plested
Wisdom thus informs and governs our reception of scripture as both starting-
point and goal. I shall say more about this double aspect of wisdom below. For
the moment, I simply want to register the fact that in terms of exegesis Max-
imus perceives wisdom not so much as the object of his study, but as the
means by which the meaning of scripture is revealed - and also as the very
content of that revelation. Wisdom is, in other words, the active subject and
not the inert object in Maximus' hermeneutical approach.
But what precisely is the nature of this wisdom which is somehow both the
beginning and end of our journey? Maximus is not entirely clear or systematic
in his response to this question (and to expect him to be so is to misunderstand
him altogether), but nonetheless an overall picture of a coherent and developed
sophiology may be seen to emerge from his work.
The prologue to the Ambigua to Thomas gives us a further signal of the
importance of the theme of wisdom in Maximus' work. Thomas is hailed both
as a chaste lover of wisdom3 and as a lover of 'the beauty of wisdom', which is
defined as 'knowledge put into action'4. This is typical of Maximus: true phi
losophy is simultaneously practical and intellectual. This is something he
expands upon on many occasions, for example in Ambiguum 10, where he
asserts that the knowledge of the underlying reality of things requires the disci
pline and exercise of both body and mind. Philosophy, he says, is not worthy of
the name unless supported by ascetic endeavour5. Equally, ascetic endeavour is
of little or no value without intellectual contemplation: those who stick to bod
ily observances without the illumination of the mind brought by the Spirit do
not partake of the 'mixing bowl of divine wisdom' (cf. Proverbs 9: 1-6)6.
Wisdom is, furthermore, presented by Maximus as the mind operating
according to its own inner principle or logos: the intellect 'is and is called wis
dom when it unswervingly directs all its proper movements towards God'7.
Wisdom is the unmediated and infinite gift of God which allows us to attain to
3 Cf. Augustine, Soliloquies 1.22f: the chaste love demanded of her votaries by Lady Wis
dom.
4 This would seem to owe something to the Stoic distinction between wisdom and prudence
(wisdom as the universal cosmic logos and prudence as wisdom put into practice).
5 Amb. 10(1108A).
6 Amb. 10(1145A).
7 Myst. 5 (673A). Cf. QT 43 (p. 295.57-5): to eat of the tree of life is to eat of the 'wisdom
which is constitutive of the intellect'. Cf. also Augustine, De trinitate 14. Augustine asserts that
it is only when the threefold operation of the mind is focused on God, when, in other words, the
mind has attained (or received) wisdom, that the imago Dei is realised - without the gift of wis
dom we still speaking merely of vestigia, not of the image itself (14.12.15). He goes on to say
that one can sum up this threefold process as the worship of God which is, as the Book of Job
puts it, wisdom (cf. Job 28.28). 'God himself is the chiefest wisdom,' he writes, 'but the worship
of God is the wisdom of man' (14.1.1). In so worshipping God, the mind will be wise, 'not by its
own light, but by participation in that supreme light; and wherein it is eternal, therein shall it
reign in blessedness. For this wisdom of man is so called, in that it also is of God' (14.12.15).
an angelic understanding of reality in which the division between the noetic

and the sensible is broken down and we experience the unity of the creation8.
The spirit of wisdom evoked by the prophet Isaiah (Is. 11:2) is defined by
Maximus as the ascent to and re-union with the cause of the logoi9. Note the
'ascent to and re-union with'. It is important to recognise that for Maximus
wisdom is not only a dimension of contemplation, but also the stage beyond
contemplation. In Ambiguum 65 he speaks of wisdom as that which succeeds
contemplation, which itself succeeds practical endeavour10. Wisdom here is
the stage at which our perception of the logoi of creation becomes participa
tion in the unity that holds these logoi together, participation in their cause -
the 'hypostatic Wisdom and Word of God'11.
Maximus' teaching on the logoi of creation is, as should already be obvious,
fundamental to his sophiology. Christ is, of course, the 'hypostatic Wisdom
and Word', in whom lie from all eternity the logoi of the whole creation, the
ideas of God corresponding to every created thing brought into being in time
and destined to be freely gathered and reunited to God in the eschaton. Here
the logoi, grounded in the divine Logos, constitute the world in God and also
represent God's self-revelation ad extra, in other words, God in the world.
Wisdom is the link-piece here, for it is Christ as Wisdom who binds the logoi
together:
For the wisdom and prudence (or sagacity: cppovnau;) of God the Father is the Lord
Jesus Christ, who holds together the universals of beings by the power of wisdom, and
embraces their complementary parts by the prudence of understanding (xtj cppovf|aei
xf\q ouveaecoc,) since by nature he is the fashioner and provider of all, and through
himself he draws into one what is divided, and abolishes war between beings, and
binds everything into peaceful friendship and undivided harmony12.
This sense of wisdom as the bridge or link-piece between God and the
world is something that forms a central plank of Maximus' theological vision.
In him we have a fully developed vision of the world in God and God in the
world - to borrow from Bulgakov's summary of his own sophiological vision.
It is, however, important to recognise that wisdom is not the exclusive prop
erty of the Son. God also grants, and is revealed as, wisdom by the Paraclete:
8 Amb. 41 (1308AB).
9 QT 54 (p. 461.326-328).
10 Amb. 65 (1393A). Here wisdom would seem to correspond to the stage of theology in the
schema of the spiritual life developed by Evagrius of Pontus.
11 QT 63 (p. 147.51-52).
12 Amb. 41 (1313B). This comes in the context of the reintegration of cosmos through aboli
tion of the five divisions of the universe: between masculine and feminine, paradise and world,
heaven and earth, noetic and sensible, created and uncreated. Wisdom is distinguished from pru
dence in that the latter brings together the logoi of particulars, while the former performs the
same function for universals. Translation adapted from Andrew Louth, Maximus the Confessor,
The Early Church Fathers (London: Routledge, 1996).
208 M. Plested
[The Holy Spirit] accords perfection through luminous, simple, and complete wisdom
to those found worthy of theosis, bringing them by all means and ways to the cause of
beings ... It is in her [wisdom] that they come to know themselves through God and
God through themselves, with no wall or some such thing being interposed. For there
is nothing interposed between wisdom and God (aocpia<; yap Ttpoc, Geov ueoov
ou8ev)13.
Wisdom here is the unifying action or energeia of God (that is, not exclusively
associated with the Son), the single operation of the Holy Trinity in the world
bringing the world into the divine life - no longer in potentiality, but in actu
ality, through the free acceptance by the creation of the self-emptying of God
in the incarnation and the gift of the Spirit14.
The point regarding freedom is an important one. As Maximus puts it else
where,
The grace of the Holy Spirit does not work wisdom in the saints without the intellect
which receives it . . . nor any of the charismata without the receptive disposition and
inclination of each . . . neither does man possess any of these by natural capacity with
out divine power15.
Thus we see that wisdom is central to Maximus' understanding of the rela
tionship between man and God, in particular to his understanding of theosis.
Operating in accordance with its own logos, the pure intellect becomes, by
grace, a receptacle of divine wisdom, becomes a xonoq xf\<; Geia<; aocpiac,, a
locus of God's self-revelation in the creature. Embracing, if only in part, the
infinite depths of the divine wisdom, man 'is and is called' wisdom, not by
virtue of what he is by nature, but by virtue of him who dwells in him16.
Wisdom, in Maximus, emerges as a multifaceted and multivalent theme.
Perhaps most importantly, it emerges as the link-piece between creature and
creator - the 'and' in God and the world. As an aspect of Maximus' under
standing of the divine logoi, wisdom emerges as one of the principal ways in
which Maximus understands the operation of God in the world and the freely
willed re-incorporation of the world into God. Wisdom in this sense is both the
13 QT 63 (p. 159.219-227).
14 This refusal to tie down wisdom to the Son or Spirit alone (departing here from the major
ity of patristic writers) is an intuition shared by Augustine. In his De trinitate, he specifies that
wisdom pertains to essence in God, not to relation. In other words, the Trinity is one wisdom,
whereas it is not one Word or one Father: 'And so the Father is wisdom, the Son is wisdom, and
the Holy Spirit is wisdom, and together not three wisdoms, but one wisdom: and because in the
Trinity to be is the same as to be wise, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, are one essence. Neither
in the Trinity is it one thing to be and another to be God; therefore the Father, Son, and Holy
Spirit are one God' (7.3.5). I intend to develop some of the occasional comparisons I have made
between the sophiologies of Augustine and Maximus in the context of a planned book on wisdom
in patristic exegesis.
15 QT 59 pp. 47.55-49.62.
16 Ami. 71 (1412A).
means and the end of our vocation. It is through the gift of wisdom that we are
able to realise our own nature as wisdom through attaining likeness to and
union with uncreated wisdom. This is what Maximus means by there being
'nothing interposed between wisdom and God'. In short, wisdom is, for Max
imus, the life of God in man and the life of man in God (and, by extension, the
life of God in the world and the world in God). It is, in essence, a way of
expressing the union of the creation and the Creator without losing sight of the
distinction between their natures. All instances of the theme of wisdom in
Maximus are based on this guiding vision.
Philostorge et la theologie neo-arienne
Jean-Marc Prieur, Strasbourg
Redigee vers 430, YHistoire ecclesiastique en douze livres de Philostorge est

la premiere des grandes histoires grecques conservees qui completent celle
d'Eusebe de Cesaree. Philostorge a con9u son oeuvre a Constantinople. Ne a
Borisse en Cappadoce seconde, il appartient a une famille de tendance euno-
mienne, et a lui-meme rencontre Eunome1. Son histoire est entierement redigee
du point de vue de cette tendance qui refusait toute similitude d'essence entre le
Pere et le Fils, que l'on appelle anomeenne, mais que les chercheurs modernes
preferent nommer neo-arienne2. L'originalite de son ceuvre tient d'ailleurs a ce
point de vue: elle defend continuellement les idees et les actes d'Aece et d'Eu-
nome, et fournit sur eux des informations qui ne se trouvent nulle part ailleurs3.
Par ailleurs, Philostorge consacre une grande part a l'histoire profane, mais il se
montre egalement interesse par la geographie et les sciences naturelles.
Jugee heretique, cette Histoire n'a pas ete conservee, mais nous est princi-
palement accessible au travers d'un important resume qu'en fit Photius, le
patriarche de Constantinople. Plusieurs autres documents ont egalement puis6
a 1 'ceuvre originale et peuvent servir a en connaitre le contenu4.
Photius, qui accable Philostorge de qualificatifs meprisants et ironiques5, tient
clairement cette histoire pour heretique. II n'a pourtant pas hesite a entreprendre
1 Philostorge, Histoire ecclesiastique IX.9 et X.6. Philostorge, age de vingt ans, rencontre
Eunome retir6 a la fin de sa vie dans sa propriete de Dakoroenoi agroi en Cappadoce.
2 Th. A. Kopecek, A History of Neo-Arianism, Patristic Monograph Series 8 (Cambridge,
Mass., 1979); R.P.C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God (Edimbourg, 1988).
3 II se r6fere a des hom6lies et aux oeuvres d'Aece (V.l), ainsi qu'aux oeuvres et aux lettres
d'Eunome (X.6). II mentionne un tomos dans lequel Aece et l'eveque Eudoxe consignent leur
doctrine, et qui correspond peut-etre a Yekthesis dont parle Theodoret, Histoire ecclesiastique
n.27.6-11.
4 On se reportera a la remarquable edition de J. Bidez, Philostorgius. Kirchengeschichte, GCS
21 (Berlin, 1913). Troisieme edition (1981), par F. Winkelmann. En plus du rlsum6 de Photius,
on doit utiliser: la Passion d'Artemios, attribuee a Jean de Rhodes par Bidez, mais que B. Kotter
propose d'attribuer a Jean de Damas (Die Schriften des Johannes von Damaskos 5, Opera homi-
letica et hagiographica, PTS 29 (1988)); quelques articles du lexique byzantin la Souda; une Vie
de Constantin (BHG 365); cinq passages du Thesaurus orthodoxae fidei de Nicetas Acominatus;
deux epigrammes de YAnthologie palatine. Tous les passages utiles sont soigneusement repro-
duits par Bidez dans son edition.
5 II le nomme «impie», «menteur», «organe impie du mensonge», «ennemi de Dieu», et fait
des calembours sur son nom, 1 ' appelant philopseudis, «ami du mensonge» et kakostorgios, «mal
aime».
212 J.-M. Prieur
cet important travail de resume, peut-etre a cause de l'interet propre que repre-
sente cette oeuvre, en depit de ses idees6. La difficulte, c'est que l'on ne sait pas
quand Photius cite l'oeuvre et quand il la resume; la plupart du temps, il parait
la resumer. De plus, il condamne ceux que loue Philostorge, et dit du bien de
ceux que, de son point de vue, Philostorge calomnie. Ce que Photius nomme
heresie est orthodoxie pour Philostorge et inversement7. D'ailleurs Photius pre-
sente comme arienne la tendance de Philostorge, alors que YHistoire semble
avoir montre qu'Aece, Eunome et Philostorge ne se reconnaissaient pas exacte-
ment dans cette orientation. Tous ces facteurs rendent delicate l'analyse du texte
de Photius. Toutefois, il n'y a aucune raison de penser que celui-ci ait modifie
le fond des idees de Philostorge.
Aux plans ecclesiastique et theologique, YHistoire de Philostorge est donc
entierement congue du point de vue eunomien. II est longuement question
d'Aece, de sa naissance a sa mort (livres III. 13 a IX.6-7), et d'Eunome (livres
III.20 a XI.5). Tous deux sont exceptionnellement doues. Philostorge s'inte-
resse aussi a Theophile l'lndien dont l'ambassade aupres des Homerites sert a
propager la doctrine d'Aece. Tous ont realise des miracles.
Philostorge presente l'histoire ecclesiastique comme une opposition entre la
tendance et les idees d'Aece et Eunome et les tenants de Yhomoousios, cate-
gorie dans laquelle il regroupe tous leurs opposants8. Ces derniers sont souvent
malintentionnes; ils ont des destins redoutables, en particulier plusieurs empe-
reurs dont les fins miserables sont presentees comme des chatiments divins9.
D'ailleurs l'histoire s'acheve sur la description de fleaux naturels qui, selon
Philostorge, sont des manifestations de l'indignation divine (XII, 9).
Philostorge ne se reconnait pas comme arien au sens strict, et critique meme
la pensee d'Arius. Le mot « arien » ne figure que trois fois dans le resume
de Photius et parait etre employe du point de vue de celui-ci10. Philostorge
6 Dans sa Bibliotheque, Codex 40, Photius consacre aussi une importante notice a cette his-
toire. On y lit que Philostorge est un arien et un menteur, mais Photius lui reconnait pourtant des
talents litteraires.
7 Dans l'introduction (p. 4, 1. 7), la notion d'hertsie est comprise du point de vue de Philos
torge et s'applique aux idees niceennes. Au livre II.7-8 (p. 19, 1 et 1 1), elle est comprise de celui
de Photius et s'applique a des theologiens de la tendance d'Aece.
8 II n'ignore pas, cependant la «similitude selon l'essence» de Basile d'Ancyre: IV.11-12;
V.1;IX.13.
9 Athanase est particulierement mal percu. Philostorge insiste sur le fait que ce sont des
homoousiens qui sont responsables du massacre de la philosophe Hypatie a Alexandrie (VIII.9).
Le tremblement de terre de Nicomedie ecrase des eveques homoousiens (IV. 10). Basile perd la
vie de decouragement a la lecture de la Seconde Apologie d'Eunome (VIII. 12). Pour les empe-
reurs: Constantin (1I.16); Gratien, expressement condamn6 pour des raisons doctrinales (X.5);
Theodose (XI.2). Philostorge ne dit pas de mal de Constance et le loue, au contraire, bien qu'il
ait envoys Aece en exil. C'est que cet empereur lui semble avoir ix6 un defenseur de la bonne
doctrine
10 En I.8; IV.4; IX.19. En IV.4, toutefois, Photius ecrit que les ariens amenent Eudoxe d'An-
tioche a Yheteroousios, mais il s'agit peut-Stre d'une simplification.
n'emploie pas non plus le mot «anomeen», sauf pour le mettre dans la bouche
des opposants a Eunome". II semble, en revanche, s'etre reconnu dans le titre
d'eunomien12. Trois aspects de la pensee eunomienne doivent etre abordes.
Le premier, qui est le plus important, et sur lequel Philostorge donne le plus
d'informations, concerne la difference d'essence entre le Pere et le Fils. Deux
passages de son Histoire doivent etre pris en consideration.
Au livre IV. 12, tout d'abord, il est question du concile reuni par l'empereur
Constance II, fin 359, a Constantinople. Philostorge concentre son recit sur un
debat entre Basile d'Ancyre et Aece, seconde par Eunome. Basile se trouve a
la tete des tenants de la similitude selon l'essence mais s'exprime, selon Phi
lostorge, au nom des tenants de Yhomoousios. Quant a Aece, il represente les
partisans de la difference d'essence (heteroousios). A en croire notre auteur,
Basile est subjugue par l'eloquence d'Aece, au point de reconnaitre que l'es
sence de l'engendre (gennetheis, le Fils) differe de celle du geniteur (geiname-
nos, le Pere); ce qui paralt d'ailleurs invraisemblable du point de vue histo-
rique. Apres quoi, les deux hommes sont convoques par Constance13. Devant
l'empereur, Basile accuse Aece de dire le Fils «dissemblable (anomoios) du
Pere». A quoi Aece repond que, loin de le pretendre dissemblable du Pere, il
le proclame «exactement semblable (aparallaktos homoios)»14. Constance se
fixe alors sur le terme « exact », et, sans attendre de savoir ce qu'il signifie, il
chasse Aece du palais. Lequel sera ensuite depose de son diaconat et exile.
Philostorge precise qu'il continuera pourtant de defendre l'adjectif «exact
(apparallakton)» dans ses homelies et ses ecrits.
Le livre VI. 1 rapporte l'accusation lancee contre Eunome par certains
membres du clerge de Cyzique dont il etait l'eveque, aupres d'Eudoxe,
patriarche de Constantinople. Philostorge precise immediatement que ces
membres du clerge deformaient la pensee et l'enseignement de leur eveque,
transformant le fait que le Fils n'etait «pas semblable au Pere selon l'essence
(to me kat'ousian omoion)» en «dissemblance (anomoiotes)» du Pere a
l'egard du Fils. En d'autres termes, la ou Eunome se contentait de declarer
que le Pere et le Fils ne sont pas semblables selon l'essence, on l'accuse de
11 En IX. 13, Demophile et ses collegues anathematisent Aece et Eunome et proclament

Eunome anomeen.
12 Quand, en IX. 14, Hemophile s'en prend aux legomenoi Eunomianoi, legomenoi doit etre
impute a Photius, Eunomianoi a Philostorge. Voir aussi XII. 11 ou il est question de l'Eglise
eunomienne qui connait un schisme.
13 Sozomene (Histoire ecclesiastique IV.3-4) connait, lui aussi, un traitement en deux temps
du cas d'Aece lors de ce concile: avant la rencontre avec l'empereur, puis devant celui-ci. Mais
le contenu de ces deux etapes de la procedure differe considerablement.
14 L'adverbe «exactement» appartient a la meme famille que l'adjectif utilise dans la seconde
formule du concile des Enc6nies (Antioche 341) pour qualifier le Fils comme «image exacte de
l'essence divine du Pere». Notons que cet adjectif fait partie de l'heritage d'Aece, puisque, selon
Sozomene (op. cit. III.5.9), la formule des Encenies aurait 6t6 presentee comme venant de
Lucien, inspirateur de l'ecole dont Aece a lui-meme suivi l'enseignement.
214 J.-M. Prieur
pretendre qu'ils sont dissemblables l'un de 1 'autre. La notion d'anomoios

vient de ses accusateurs.
Traduit devant le clerge de Constantinople, Eunome n'est nullement surpris
a affirmer la dissemblance (anomoion) du Fils et du Pere, mais, bien au
contraire, il proclame la « similitude selon les Ecritures». Seulement, precise
Philostorge, il n'accepte pas de dire le Fils semblable au Pere selon l'essence,
ce qui, selon lui, serait un blaspheme. De meme qu'il faut dire le Fils «tres
semblable (omoiotatos)» au Pere, comme il convient a un Dieu monogene (le
Fils) par rapport au Pere qui l'a engendre sans passion (apathos).
II ressort clairement de ces deux episodes que, selon Philostorge, Aece et
Eunome ne recusent nullement l'idee que le Fils soit semblable au Pere; ils
sont au contraire tres ou exactement semblables, selon les Ecritures. Aece et
Eunome acceptent donc la definition du Concile de Constantinople (359) et
paraissent meme aller au-dela dans l'intensite de la similitude, si l'on peut
dire. Ce qu'ils refusent, c'est qu'on les dise semblables selon l'essence. Aece
et Eunome n'utilisent pas le terme anomoios qui apparait dans la bouche de
leurs accusateurs, au prix, semble-t-il, d'une confusion peut-etre malveillante.
Pratiquement, lorsqu'il veut caracteriser la position d'Aece et d'Eunome,
Philostorge emploie le terme heteroousios, d' «essence differente», qu'il
oppose le plus souvent au homoousios de la definition de foi de Nicee, et par-
fois a homoiousios.
Si on compare les informations de Philostorge avec celles d'autres auteurs,
on voit que l'anomeisme est effectivement une accusation qui a 6t6 utilisee par
les opposants des Eunomiens15. Basile de Cesaree doit etre proche de la realite,
lorsqu'il ecrit qu'Aece est le premier a avoir dit que «le Fils monogene est dis-
semblable de Dieu le Pere selon l'essence (anomoios kata ten ousian)»16.
Ce qui choque Aece et son ecole, c'est donc la similitude selon l'essence.
Ce que confirme le traite d'Aece, le Syngtamation11': il ne peut y avoir d'unite
d'essence entre le Pere, qui est inengendre (agennetos), et le Fils, qui est le
fruit d'un engendrement (un gennema). Aece, Eunome et les leurs n'ont-ils,
pour autant, pas utilise le terme anomoios? On ne saurait l' affirmer, car il
revient regulierement sous la plume de ceux qui cherchent a caracteriser leur
pensee18. S'ils l'ont utilisee, c'est dans le sens de ce que dit Basile de Cesaree:
«dissemblable selon l'essence». Si donc on utilise le mot anomeen pour les
designer, il faut le faire a bon escient, c'est-a-dire non comme le rejet de la
formule homeenne de Constantinople, mais comme celui du « semblable selon
15 On le constate dans la lettre de Georges de Laodicee au synode d'Ancyre (358) et chez Epi-
phane qui nomme Aece lui-meme anomoios: George de Laodicee, dans Sozomene, op. cit.
IV.13; Epiphane, Panarion 76, 1-10.
16 Basile de Cesaree, Contre Eunome I.1.
17 Le Syntagmation est reproduit par Epiphane, op. cit. 76.11-12.
18 Socrate (Histoire ecclesiastique II.45.8), Sozomene (op. cit. IV.12.1; V.14.3; VI.7.4) et
Epiphane (op. cit. 76.2.5).
l'essence» de Basile d'Ancyre et de son synode, et, plus encore, comme celui
du homoousios de Nicee.
Le second aspect de la pensee des Eunomiens, selon Philostorge, concerne
le fait que Dieu est connaissable. II en est question a trois reprises. Des le
debut du livre I.2, il decerne a Eusebe de Cesaree un bon point, louant chez lui
l'historien, et un mauvais, lui reprochant de tenir Dieu pour «inconnaissable et
incomprehensible (agnoston kai akatalepton)»19'. Au livre II.3, c'est a Arius
lui-meme qu'il reproche de pretendre Dieu «inconnaissable, incomprehensible
et impensable (agnoston, akatalepton kai anennoeton)» , et cela, non seule-
ment aux hommes, mais meme au Fils unique de Dieu20. Selon lui, la plupart
des partisans d'Arius tomberent dans cette erreur, a l'exception de certains dis
ciples du martyr Lucien. Au livre X.2, enfin, ses attaques visent de nouveau
Arius, qui affirme que l'on ne peut comprendre (katalambano) Dieu pour ce
qu'il est, mais seulement dans la mesure ou chacun a la capacite (dunamis) de
le comprendre. De plus, il pense que la generation du Fils unique n'est connue
que de celui qui l'a engendre.
La question de la possibilite de connattre l'etre meme de Dieu a effective-
ment distingue les Eunomiens, non seulement des orthodoxes21, mais aussi des
ariens. Selon Aece et ses disciples, Dieu est connaissable par le Fils, qui
connait Dieu aussi bien que lui-meme, mais aussi par les etre humains, selon
Jean 17, 2-3. On peut definir son essence meme en affirmant qu'elle est inen-
gendree22. Et, a en croire l'historien Socrate, Eunome aurait affirme que Dieu
n'en sait pas plus sur sa propre essence que nous-memes23. Au-dela de la ques
tion de la comprehensibilite de Dieu, ce debat s'etend a l'usage de la dialec-
tique, telle qu'elle est en usage chez Aece et ses epigones24.
Le troisieme aspect de la pensee evoquee par Philostorge porte sur la pra
tique baptismale. Selon le livre X.4, les Eunomiens se sont separes des ariens
sur le plan du bapteme, baptisant non pas en trois immersions, mais en une
19 Dans les Louanges de Constantin 12.1, Eusebe formule l'idee que Dieu est au-dela de toute
compr6hension, ineffable, inexprimable, sans nom.
20 Les citations de la Thalie par Athanase (Contre les ariens I.5-6) montrent qu'Arius consi-
derait effectivement que le Fils ne connait pas le Pere. Dans sa lettre aux eveques (Socrate, op.
cit. I.6), Alexandre d'Alexandrie indique que, selon la confession de foi d'Arius, le Pere est inex
primable par le Fils, que celui-ci ne le connait pas et qu'il ne peut le voir.
21 Basile de Cesaree a reagi contre ces idees en affirmant qu'il est orgueilleux de pretendre
avoir decouvert l'essence de Dieu, et qu'aucune nature raisonnable ne peut la comprendre. Seul
le Fils peut connattre le Pere. Au reste, la raison commune indique que Dieu existe, non mais ce
qu'il est (Contre Eunome I.5-16).
22 Voir ce qu'ecrit Epiphane (Panarion 76.4.1 et 7) au sujet d'Aece et ce qu'affirme Eunome
dans sa Premiere apologie 7-8.
23 Socrate, op. cit. IV.7.
24 Voir Socrate, op. cit. n.35 et IV.7; Sozomene, op. cit. ffl.15.7. Sur cette question, voir J.
de Ghellink, Patristique et Moyen Age. Etudes d'histoire litteraire et doctrinale II (Gembloux,
1948), p. 273-275 et 280.
216 J.-M. Prieur
seule. lis baptisaient en effet dans la raort du Seigneur, «qui accepta de mou-
rir une seule fois et non pas deux ou trois». Cette immersion unique est confir
mee par d'autres auteurs25. On comprend que les idees eunomiennes pous-
saient a ne pas baptiser selon les trois personnes de la Trinite, mais plutot au
nom d'une seule.
A vrai dire, Philostorge dit peu de choses sur la pensee d'Aece et d'Eu-
nome. Mais le fait qu'il s'inscrive deliberement dans cette filiation nous
pousse a prendre tres au serieux les informations qu'il fournit pour connaitre la
theologie neo-arienne. D'ailleurs elles sont largement confirmees par les autres
sources.
25 Socrate, op. cit. V.24; Sozomfene, op. cit. VI.26; TModoret, Haereticarum fabularum com
pendium IV.3.
Divine Mediation in Marcellus of Ancyra:
The Concept of the Image of God in the Fragments of his
Work Against Asterius
Jon Robertson, Oxford
The concept of the image of God was a central theme in the debates
between Marcellus and his opponents in the years following the Council of
Nicaea. In order to understand the Ancyran bishop's assertions concerning the
image of God, we need first to summarise very briefly the view of one of his
opponents, Eusebius of Caesarea. Then, as we compare and contrast Marcel
lus' view, we shall, I think, discover some interesting links as well as differ
ences between the two sides that help to illuminate one aspect of the early
Arian controversy.
Eusebius of Caesarea made great use of the Word as 'image of God' and
this concept was central to his position on the Word as a necessary mediating
link between God and the world, one that was not to be identified with the
'one and only God'1. He appreciated the title 'image' for the Son in particular
because it simultaneously encapsulated for him both the similarity and non-
identity that he felt together described the relationship between the Father and
Son. It also described the function of mediation that Eusebius envisioned tak
ing place through the Word. In this paper, I will refer to this model of divine
mediation as 'deictic', borrowing a term from grammar. A deictic function is
what certain words have, in that they serve only to make reference to some
thing else already mentioned in the context. That is, like signposts, they sim
ply 'point to' something else. Hence, for example, 'this', 'that' and 'those' are
words which have a deictic function. In the same way, for Eusebius, the Logos
points not to himself, but rather to the 'higher' God who is an essentially dif
ferent being from the Logos.
In his attack on his opponents, Marcellus of Ancyra also gave the issue of
the identity and function of the Image of God a central place. In fr. 82, Mar
cellus addressed the view of the Word as 'image' which Asterius (as well as
Eusebius) had put forth. He quotes Asterius as saying,
1 Some of the many passages where Eusebius made this clear include Laus Constantini XI. 12,
17; XTJ.l; Demonstratio Evangelica IV.3; Letter to Euphration 4; Contra Marcellum I.1; De
Eccksiatica Theologia I.20.65; 1I.21.3-4.
218 J. Robertson
Doubtless, the image and that of which it is an image are not to be considered one and
the same, but rather two substances, two things and two powers (Suo ofioiai kai 6uo
Ttp&yp.axa Kai 860 8uvauei<;), just as there are this number of names2.
Obviously Marcellus was in disagreement with the dividing of the Word and
the Father into two separate beings. In the quotation from Asterius, this sepa
ration was based on the logic of 'image' - an image was not to be considered
'one and the same' with that of which it was an image. It is perhaps to be
expected that Marcellus would then argue against this basic premise concern
ing the image, since he asserted that God and his Word were, indeed, 'one and
the same'. However, as we follow the flow of Marcellus' argument, we shall
see that he took a very different tack.
Rather than suggest that Asterius had an erroneous conception of how the
divine image related to that of which it was an image (that is, non-identity),
Marcellus instead raised the issue of the point in time at which the image
appeared in the divine economy. Marcellus reserved the function of image
only for the economy 'according to the flesh'. All the titles that could be con
sidered a part of the mediation of salvation - Way, Door, Life, and others -
were to be considered descriptive only of the economy of the Incarnation (firs
43, 91). In fr. 93 he writes, 'For, as I have said many times, before this there
was nothing other than the Word'3. However, Marcellus went into much more
detail on why it was wrong to ascribe the function of 'image' to the pre-incar-
nate Word.
Marcellus stated that the Word of God could not be the image of the invis
ible God, as Asterius had said, because the Word was not itself visible. 'How
is the Word in himself able to be an image of the invisible God, when he him
self is invisible?' (fr. 93)4. 'It is fitting for the image to be seen, in order that
through the image what is at the time unseen can be seen' (fr. 92)5. For this
reason, the function of 'image' of the invisible God had to be considered to
take place during the economy of the Incarnation. 'Now clearly, at the time he
assumed the flesh which was according to the image of God, he became a true
image of the invisible God' (fr. 94)6. There are two things to be mentioned
about this. First, and most obviously, it is in the nature of an image to be vis
ible. But conversely, and more importantly, it is the nature of God to be invis
ible and therefore necessarily only to be 'seen' through another. 'Invisibility'
had been considered by Origen a distinguishing characteristic of God (and one
2 Erich Klostermann, ed., Gegen Marcell, Uber Die Kirchliche Theologie, Die Fragmente
Marcells, GCS Eusebins Werke 4 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1905), fr. 82.
3 Ibid., fr. 91. Cf. also fr. 43, where it is stated that any 'new and more recent name' (kouvov
Kai veavtepov 8voua) is 'from the new and recent economy according to the flesh' (duto xr\q
Kaivfjc, Kai veac, Kara aapKa olKovouta<;).
4 Ibid., fr. 93.
5 Ibid., fr. 92.
6 Ibid., fr. 94.
Divine Mediation in Marcellus of Ancyra 219
which he believed to be shared by the 'invisible image of the invisible God'),

as opposed to all corporeal beings7.
That the Word, for Marcellus, could not be that mediating image is obvious
from the fact that its nature is precisely that of God, they are 'one and the
same' in the sense of one prosopon, one 'who'. The Word, qua Word, by its
nature could never function as an image of God. Therefore, it was important
for Marcellus that God (and his Word) be 'imaged' by another who had a 'vis
ible' nature. This provides the context for understanding Marcellus' assertions
concerning the 'disjunction' between the divine Word and the human flesh of
Christ. That which implies any independence or disagreement with the Father
in the Incarnation is 'according to what appears', and is not indicative of the
invisible nature of God.
At this point, we must emphasise a facet of this that is crucial to the Marcellan
view of the mediation of the knowledge of God through the flesh taken on by the
divine Word. In effect, we see that Marcellus was in agreement with Asterius
(and Eusebius) in their supposition that the image was necessarily other than that
of which it was an image8. Marcellus asserted that 'images of these things of
which they are images are indicative of things not there (drcovxcov 8eiKxiKai) so
that the things not there seem to be manifested through them' (fr. 93)9. We can
see that the 'deictic' concept of mediation implicit in Eusebius is here made
explicit. That the 'image' and 'imaged' were, for Marcellus, mutually exclusive
categories becomes even clearer as we consider how his argument continued. In
fr. 96, he berated Asterius for inconsistency in his description of the Son.
For how can the begotten Lord and God, as he said before, be the image of God? For
'image of God' and 'God' are mutually exclusive terms (exepov yap eIkcov GeoC, Kai
exepov Geo<;). So that if he is image, then he is not Lord and God, but rather an image
of the Lord and God. But if he is really Lord and God, then no longer, since he is Lord
and God, is he able to be the image of the Lord and God10.
Thus to be the image of God necessarily meant not to be God. Marcellus car
ried this even further, claiming that whatever divine attribute the Word was
said to represent by Asterius and others meant an actual denial of that quality
to the Word, qua Word. Asterius had contended that the Word was 'unchange
able image (&rcapaA,A,aKxOV elkova) of [God's] essence and will and glory
and power'11. In fr. 97, Marcellus countered,
Therefore if he is an image of substance (ouaiai;), then he no longer can be substance
himself (atkoouaia); and if an image of will (pouXfj<;), then he cannot be himself will
7 Cf. esp. De Principiis I.1.8; 11.4.3.

8 As noted above, Acacius also noted this partial agreement when he asserted that 'the image
was not of itself, but of another, as you wish' (Epiphanius, Panarion JZ.10,2).
9 Klostermann, fr. 93.
10 Ibid., fr. 96.
11 Ibid.
220 J. Robertson
(atkoPouA,f|); and if an image of power, then not power, and if image of glory, then
not glory. For the image is not of itself, but rather an image of something else12.
Here Marcellus made clear that he took the appellation of 'image of x' to be
equivalent to a denial of x' to the image itself.
Marcellus was not merely making this point in order to deny the title and
function of 'image' to the eternal Word of God. He was also stating that this
was exactly how the flesh assumed by the Word, as image, related to the
Godhead. As I have tried to prove elsewhere, the flesh was for Marcellus not
just a vessel controlled by the Word, but rather an hypostasis that had a will
independent of the Father and could even display disagreement (dauu-
ipcovia) with the Father. This was fully consistent with his theology else
where, since the Word was not a separate entity from the Father and there
fore could not exhibit the independence that Marcellus saw sometimes
expressed in the words of Christ, such as in Gethsemane. When the human
being Jesus spoke about his unity with God, it was not then the flesh speak
ing, but the Word (that is, God himself). The man assumed by the Word, as
image of God, could not, in the final analysis, be God himself by the criteria
of Marcellus.
It is vital that we capture the point of Marcellus' argument at this juncture.
According to Asterius (and the Eusebii of Caesarea and of Emesa, Acacius of
Caesarea, and Arius), the image was necessarily other than that which was
imaged. Therefore, the Word of God, as image of God, could not be 'one and
the same' with God of whom he was an image. For both sides of this debate,
'image of A' necessarily meant 'not A'. For both Marcellus and his opponents,
the mediation of the knowledge of God through the image of God necessarily
occurs 'deictically'13. God's presence is only indirectly there, if at all - for the
image is 'indicative of things absent' (8eiimKf| drcovxcov). The main differ
ence between them on this point had to do with when this image of God came
to be and who it was.
Marcellus, since he allowed no prosopic existence to the Word of God
separate from that of the Father, was forced to attribute this 'deictic' medi
ating function to the human flesh assumed by the Word, that is, to the
human being Jesus Christ. And, in fact, it seems that Marcellus would
locate any such 'mediatorial' function in the flesh, the assumed 'Son of
God'. That this was the case is evident from the fact that, as we have seen,
Marcellus allotted all titles which have to do with the bringing of salvation
and the knowledge of God (Door, Way, Life, Resurrection), to the assumed
flesh. Any 'mediating' that takes place, it would seem, must take place
12 Ibid., fr. 97.

13 In many ways, this simply follows from the logic implicit in the concept of an 'image'.
Even Augustine would later ask, 'what could be more ridiculous than calling something image
with reference to itself?' (De Trinitate VII.i.2).
Divine Mediation in Marcellus of Ancyra 221
through something hypostatically differentiated from God and possessing

the requisite 'visible' nature demanded of an image. What took place in the
Incarnation, then, was not a direct revelation of God himself through the
historical Christ, but rather a 'visible' pointer to the 'invisible' reality. To
quote fr. 74,
When he said not only, 'I and the Father are one', but also, 'So long I have been with
you, Philip, and you say, "Show me the Father?", it is evident [that he referred] not to
these eyes, but to the spiritual eyes that are able to see spiritual things. For the Father
and his Word exist invisible to the eyes of the flesh14.
Thus, even during the Incarnation, there was no 'direct' divine self-revelation,
but rather the humanity of Christ was a visible 'deictic' pointer to the invisible
divine nature.
A question that arises is whether for Marcellus the knowledge of God was
necessarily mediated through the image. In answer, we may quote more fully
fragment 94:
For if we are considered worthy through this image to know the Word of God, we
ought to believe in the very Word who said through the image, 'I and the Father are
one'. For neither the Word nor the Father of the Word is it possible to know without
this image (oCxe yap xov Xoyov ouxe xov Ttaxepa xou Xoyou xcopi<; xf\q eIkovo<;
xauxni; yvcovai xiva 8uvaxov)15.
From this, it would seem that Marcellus thought that the image was vital to the
mediation of the knowledge of God and his Word, for without it, it is simply
not possible to know them.
In summary, it would appear that Marcellus shared with his opponents the
supposition that the image of God must be distinct from God himself. Of
course, the paths the two sides then took were very different - Marcellus chose
to locate this 'gap' between the flesh of Christ and the Word, while Eusebius
and others placed it between God and his Word.
In closing, the implications of this study are at least two-fold.
1) The perspective held in common by Marcellus, Eusebius, Asterius, and oth
ers that we have titled here the 'deictic mediation' of the image of God also
highlights a theological gulf between the Ancyran bishop and Athanasius
of Alexandria. While the former, as we have seen, demanded a disjunction
between the image and God, the latter insisted strongly and consistently
throughout his writings that only the 'offspring' (yevvr|ua) of the Father's
essence could ever function as a true image of God. Only God could be an
effective image of God. For this reason, we should be hesitant to embrace
any analysis of the period that posits a close theological affinity between
Marcellus and Athanasius.
14 Klostermann, fr. 74.

15 Fr. 94.
222 J. Robertson
2) This study would seem to indicate that, even in the early years of the
'Arian' controversy, the concerns shown on both sides were not primarily
about terminology or even ontology, although both were of course
involved. Rather it had to do, in the first instance, with the way in which
the Word/Son mediated the knowledge of God to humanity. That is, the
participants were pre-eminently interested in answering the question 'How
do we see God in Jesus Christ? '
Interpretive Motives and Practices in Didymus
the Blind's Commentary on Psalms
James L. SffiBACH, Provo, Utah
I. Introduction
I shall discuss Didymus' interpretive practices and the motives behind them
specific to his Commentary on Psalms, chapters 26-29 and 36, the portion of
the Tura papyrus housed at Brigham Young University1. My conclusions are,
first, that Didymus interprets the Psalms as part of a larger pedagogical
agenda, namely, while teaching various scientific and philosophical facts, to
aid his students in living practically and theoretically virtuous lives, and, sec
ondly, his motives are Christological - to read the Psalms as informing us as
to Christ's nature, salvific work, and role as mimetic ideal. Didymus' inter
pretive practices, while resembling Philo's allegorical interpretations which
emphasize ethics, nevertheless do not fit the standard fourfold practice of
interpretation popular among Alexandrian theologians during late antiquity,
that is, literal, allegorical, anagogical, tropological2.
II. Interpretive motives and practices
M. Hirshman and W. Bienert3 have convincingly demonstrated that Didy

mus' commentaries on scripture, particularly Ecclesiastes and Zechariah,
though commentaries, are also 'Kolleg Nachschriften' , edited school lectures,
and as such have specific features unique to a pedagogical format. Those com
mentaries share identical features with Didymus' Commentary on Psalms.
These features include (1) lack of clarity in the train of thought, lacunae, rep
1 All translations are by the author. Along with two other scholars, Daniel Graham and
Thomas Mackay, I have completed a critical text along with commentary and translation. The
manuscript is currently under review for publication in 2004. Psalm references are to the Septu-
agint numbers. I should like to thank Dr. C. O'Connell for her kind assistance in doing research
for this article.
2 See the useful discussion in R. Williamson, Jews in the Hellenistic World (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 144 ff.
3 M. Hirshman, 'The Greek Fathers and the Aggada on Ecclesiastes'. Hebrew Union College
Annual 59 (1988), 137-65. W. Bienert 'Allegoria' unci 'Anagoge' bei Didymus dem Blinden von
Alexandria, PTS 13 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1972).
224 J.L. Sebach
etitions, and a spoken, staccato, rather than finely polished rhetorical, style;
(2) copious citation of previous lessons and passages from his other commen
taries; (3) questions and objections injected by the audience4; (4) reference,
incorporated into the commentary, to many diverse disciplines, including med
icine, philosophy, hermeneutics, zoology, biology, botany, and numerology;
(5) use of sermonettes, which include, as a basis, other passages from scrip
ture. These sermonettes frequently invite the auditor to imitate the virtue of a
heroic biblical figure, and to shun the vice of the villain. This structure, 'edited
school lectures', thoroughly informs the manner and motives with which
Didymus comments on Psalms. A discussion of many, though not all, motives
would certainly include the following.
A. Allegorizing in order to Teach Ethics

The pedagogical structure of Didymus' Commentary on Psalms,points us to
the first specific motive, that is, interpreting the text in such a way as to exhort
the students to moral advancement. In other words, to teach ethics.
Didymus allegorically interprets Psalm 26:11, 'Instruct me in your way, O
Lord'. His gloss: 'Only those who interpret this passage spiritually can gen
uinely understand the law of the Lord'. Because allegorical interpreters under
stand that the law is spiritual while those who concentrate on the letter of the
law, the literal interpretation, understand only the shadow of the law, literalists
cannot genuinely be instructed in God's way. The first instruction from Didy
mus, then, is to read allegorically, for only in this manner of reading do we
unfold the meaning by which we may be instructed. If one would keep the law
of the Lord, and be purified, he must interpret allegorically5.
The figurative gloss on a phrase from Psalm 27:2, likewise, has as its
motive a moral exhortation to the student. The phrase reads, 'In my supplica
tion to you and in raising my hands to your holy temple'. Didymus says that
the passage cannot be taken literally since the writer of the psalm is David and
the temple is not yet built. 'The passage must be read [figuratively, and] theo
logically. Wherever God is found, is a temple' and 'the temple is any gather
ing of the saints'. Then follows the exhortation:
It is necessary [for us] to imitate the saints... they come to Jesus, who loves them, and
he makes a dwelling place with them; to this temple, therefore, it is necessary to raise
our hands... whoever raises his hands to the holy temple becomes an imitator of
Christ, and there he leads a practical and theoretical/contemplative life.
4 Hirshman, p. 144.
5 Regarding the generation of practical virtue, there are passages in the Commentary on
Psalms which reinforce Hirshman 's view that Didymus sees himself as a teacher. Didymus is
motivated to instruct, morally and encyclopedically, his beginning as well as advanced students.
Much of the commentary is moral exhortation, and so repeatedly Didymus glosses a passage fig
uratively in order to get to the ethical lesson.
Interpretive Motives and Practices in Didymus the Blind's Commentary on Psalms 225
Here again we find the commenting pattern: figurative interpretation moti

vated by illustrating a moral ideal followed by an exhortation to the student to
imitate the ideal.
Another example of teaching ethics appears in the figurative reading of
Psalm 28: 1, 'Bring to the Lord, Sons of God'. The question is asked, presum
ably by a student, 'Who are the sons of God?' Answer:
those who offer spiritual sacrifice of praise... no one who is a son of God sins, for
everyone who has been begotten of God does not commit sin. Now when one is disci
plined in the practical and theoretical life, he is without sin, and consequently he bears
the title 'son of God'.
In this remarkable passage we find that priests officiating at the temple are not
what God wants, but rather, sons of God, offering spiritual sacrifices. These
sons are begotten of God, and they develop self-discipline in the practical and
theoretical life - the vocabulary is clearly Aristotelian. Again the interpretive
pattern is figurative reading followed by illustration of moral ideal - models
for developing practical and theoretical virtue.
B. Theoretical knowledge and wisdom

A second specific motive focuses on developing theoretical wisdom, in
Aristotle's phrase, or acquiring encyclopedic knowledge of all the non-moral,
non-productive sciences. Didymus interprets many passages so as to generate
as much non-practical knowledge as possible. His aim in such interpretations
is simply to communicate to students who perhaps have no access to the mate
rial, or, having access, would profit from a repetition of rudimentary philo
sophical, historical, pedagogical, or scientific facts: he transmits theoretical
knowledge.
Consider some passages in which Didymus remarks on how to be a good
teacher. While commenting almost continuously on how a student ought to
conduct himself, Didymus occasionally interprets a text in a manner which
illustrates a pedagogical theory - that is, a teacher remarking on what a teacher
should be dispositional^ and what a teacher is to teach.
While commenting on Psalm 27:3, 'Drag me not away with sinners', Didy
mus, is asked by a student, 'How could a saint say, "Drag me not away with
sinners?" ' The problem, presumably, is that a saint, being holy, has no need
to worry about being grouped with and treated as the unholy. Didymus
responds to the question with a reading which goes to the nature of teaching.
'Because the saint in this life always compares himself with those who are
greater, he sees himself as inferior, and he considers inferiority to be a sin,
although this transgression of law is not really a sin'. And so 'often saints put
on a facade, as should a teacher who wishes to be successful, for a teacher
is successful just when he lives and practises those things which he teaches
others'. Teachers, therefore, 'must produce discourses also about repentance'.
226 J.L. SlEBACH
In other words, there are features common to saints and teachers: (a) conso
nance between exhortation and conduct; (b) an ironic stance with regard to
their saintliness - the pretence of inferiority, putting on a face of inferiority. If
students wish to become teachers, Didymus implies, they must keep these
principles in mind. The motive in this gloss is to interpret the passage in a
manner to communicate to students the posture teachers should have toward
themselves and others, and to present the students with a saintly ideal. Thus,
the student learns not only the nature and purpose of teaching, but, so to speak,
the moral stance of a teacher. In this instance, Didymus' comment combines
theoretical and practical material.
There are many examples of interpretation designed to incorporate and
transmit philosophical, historical, medical, and scientific principles. Examples
of communicating information about Aristotle are many, including the com
ment on Psalm 27:3, 'Drag me not away with sinners'. Didymus reviews Aris
totle's distinctions, found in the Nichomachean Ethics books two and three,
between voluntary, non-voluntary, and involuntary action. Aristotle's defini
tion of human being appears in Didymus' gloss of Psalm 29:1 wherein he
defines human beings as 'rational substances'. Aristotle's theory of four
causes appears in the comment on Psalm 27: 5, 'the works of the Lord'. Didy
mus says that one only understands a created thing, a work, once one knows
the causes behind it. If the work is human being, one need discover the ideo
logical cause, the material cause, and the efficient cause: 'only when we know
for what purpose he was born and of what he is composed and the cause which
led to this [composition]'. Notice he leaves out the formal cause.
Other philosophical distinctions regularly invoked include the distinction
introduced in Plato's Republic VI between visible and intelligible substances.
The visible works of God's hands (Psalm 27:5) include moral conduct per
formed by his saints, which are visible works, along with the world, sun, and
moon. But more properly, the works of God are, in the unqualified sense of the
term, intelligible things, such as beauty itself.
An interesting zoological 'fact' from Pliny's Natural History, book VIII,
appears in the comment on Psalm 28:9, 'a voice of the Lord preparing the
deer'.
The voice of the Lord prepares those deer which are destructive of the poisonous
kinds of snakes. And the deer has a breath with which it drives out the snakes whether
they are in the deepest dens, up high, or in a shelter; they then carry them off and
destroy them, and they even use them as nourishment. It is said concerning the animal
also that when it becomes old, it seeks out the snake and by eating it, it is purified, so
that it sheds its worn out skin, and its flesh is revived6. The deer therefore destroys
snakes.
Cf. Pliny the Elder, Natural History VIII.50.118.

The motive for incorporating this fantastic zoological 'fact' is twofold. First,
Didymus seeks to inform his students of an obscure natural phenomenon - stu
dents should have a knowledge of the world in which they live - after which
appears a moral.
Those of us who can speak readily are able to punish all disobedience, and are deer
which destroy the snakes of wickedness. And those who have received the power of
Jesus again over snakes and scorpions and against all the power of enemies destroy
these snakes. The destruction of snakes also benefits them by letting them cast off the
poisonous attack of the snake7.
The comment employs a natural phenomenon in order to illustrate and adduce
a moral: nature herself provides moral lessons. Scientific knowledge is there
fore important and a teacher must put it forward when possible.
C. Christological motives
Didymus' second class of motives are Christological, since he seeks to
unfold the nature of Christ, his salvific purposes, and to hold up Christ's life
as a mimetic ideal.
As to the first, the nature of Christ, Didymus incorporates a portion of the
Nicene creed while commenting on Psalm 28: 1.
As we say [God the Father] is unmoved, unalterable, by nature holy, alone possessing
immortality, when we say the same things concerning the Son, we show due reverence.
We say he is eternal from eternal, true God from true God, light from light, holy from
holy, not light from what has been previously lighted.
The motive here is straightforwardly catechetical: 'due reverence' requires
applying the same predicates to the Son as to the Father.
Like Origen and Philo, who are major influences, Didymus frequently
employs numerology to explain scripture. An elaborate example appears in his
comment on Psalm 28. Didymus begins examining the number of the psalm
and finds in it a clear signification of Christ. The number 28 is 'perfect', that
is, its factors, when added, are equal to itself. The nature of the number points
to the mind to Christ.
There are additional numerological signs: the title of the psalm is 'A Psalm
of David for the Feast of the Tabernacles'. The feast of tabernacles occurs in
the seventh month. The number of the psalm is 7 multiplied 4 times. The
seventh month is the month diametrically opposed to the first, beginning the
second half of the year. The festival, therefore, is positioned according to the
number 7 and is appropriately treated in psalm number 28, as 28 has 7 units on
each side, when viewed as an equilateral triangle. Furthermore, the number 7
is holy and incorruptible, without mother or father because 'those who go
7 Cf. Acts 28:3-5.

228 J.L. SlEBACH
beyond the tabernacle and get outside of it, hasten to the house of God, which
is perfection. (That is, those who die, leave the earthly body for heaven.) Then
God becomes 'all things in all'. Didymus continues, 'For this reason the 7 is
found on all sides (of 28). That is, imagine an equilateral triangle with 7 on
each side, and 7 units on the interior. This triangle is a plane figure without
depth, but only length and breadth'. As such, it is a symbol of bodilessness and
intellectual essence. For this reason, 28 is everywhere, like Christ, incorrupt
ible, without father, without mother: transcending the subjection to generation,
it lies outside all generation. 'Indeed, it is an incorruptible virgin', claims
Didymus. 'It was necessary, therefore, for the person being praised in this way
as being perfect (that is, Christ), to be situated in the perfect number'8.
In his comment on Psalm 27: 2, 'In my supplication to you and in raising
my hands to your holy temple', discussed briefly above, Didymus understands
the holy temple, allegorically, to be Christ, or Christ making a habitation for
the faithful. Didymus says, 'While literally, it appears the supplicator turns his
hands to the temple, it is nevertheless possible to interpret hands as deeds,
especially as they are raised to the temple of God... And it is possible in this
way to call a gathering of the faithful a temple; and they come to Jesus, who
loves them, and he makes a dwelling place with them with the Father; and to
his temple, therefore, it is necessary to raise our hands'. Thus, when those
raise their hands together in prayer to God, they become a temple constructed
by Jesus, a dwelling place. The gloss points the reader/auditor to Christ's uni
fying mission - reuniting the faithful, in prayer, to the Father. The gloss addi
tionally asserts the necessity of prayer, 'to raise the hands', and the perfor
mance of good deeds.
Didymus interprets the passage figuratively, as a kind of prophecy. Assum
ing that it is David who raised his hands to a temple, 'it is possible for David
to have seen prophetically the incarnation, and that this is the temple concern
ing which Jesus said 'Destroy this temple' [John 2:19]9. Thus, the temple to
which David raises his hands is a prophetic vision of Christ's incarnation.
Lastly, Didymus glosses the verse in a manner which focuses on the imita-
tio dei, as a moral ideal. '(David) raises to the holy temple his hands, becom
ing an imitator of Christ, and there he leads a practical and contemplative life'.
David, by his deeds, the raised hands, becomes the prototypical imitator of
Christ, who lives the perfect life, with practical and theoretical virtues. David
is thus the ideal for students.
8 For a longer treatment of perfect numbers as symbolic of Christ, see T. Mackay, 'Didymus
the Blind on Psalm 28 (LXX): Text from the Unpublished Leaves of the Tura Commentary', SP
XX (1989), 40-9.
9 Cf. Clement of Alexandria, Stromateis, I. xxviii. 179.3: 'The meaning of the Law is to be
apprehended by us in three ways: as displaying a type, or establishing a command for the moral,
or giving a prophecy'. Didymus' gloss here illustrates all three motives: David is the type, the
moral is of to pray, the prophecy is the incarnation.
Commenting on Psalm 28, 'And the beloved one is as the son of unicorns',
Didymus says that the horn of the unicorn is the kingdom of God and that the
unicorn itself is Christ. 'The Saviour is called a unicorn, because the real king
dom is not far off, he is strong and has an unbending, immutable kingdom.
And the Saviour is also called a rhinoceros'. The physical features of the sin
gle horn signify spiritual truths: Christ's kingdom is both unity and strength,
and Christ shows the power in the spiritual realm which the rhinoceros exem
plifies in the animal. Thus, not only scripture but the animal kingdom becomes
allegorized, signifying the Christ we are to imitate.
in. Conclusion
While motives are impossible to demonstrate apodeictically, by examining

internal and external evidence relevant to his Commentary on Psalms, one can
see that Didymus' hermeneutical motives include, generally, first, a pedagogy
aimed at the practical and theoretical advance of his students. Didymus' many
figurative interpretations aim at the students' moral improvement. Repeatedly
he interprets passages allegorically in order to unfold a moral principle. After
adducing the principle Didymus exhorts his students to follow it. Didymus
also interprets Psalms in a manner to generate encyclopedic knowledge: he
includes zoological, numerological, philosophical, and other mundane facts.
Didymus' second general motive is Christological. Didymus' wishes to show
the nature and salvific work of Christ, as well as Christ as a model worthy of
imitation.
On Pseudo-Ignatius' Fourth-Century Antiochene Assertion
of Episcopal Supremacy
James D. Smith III, San Diego*
The purpose of this essay is to place in historical context an oft-overlooked

passage in the Long Recension (LR) of Ignatius' letters, and to hear Pseudo-
Ignatius as a singular fourth-century Eastern voice advocating the supremacy
of the bishop over the emperor1. In the process, I also wish to honor two of my
Harvard teachers who have passed from this life since our last Conference.
One of my mentors, George Huntston Williams, a half century ago made his
first published contribution to the study of ancient Christianity2. His essay
'Christology and Church-State Relations in the Fourth Century' occupied over
60 pages in successive issues of Church History and provoked extensive
scholarly comment3.
Williams began his essay with the memorable words of the Emperor Con-
stantius at the stormy Council of Milan in 355, after he had become sole ruler
of the Empire and was able to give full expression to his Arian sympathies:
'Let whatever I will, be that esteemed a canon'4. Whether Athanasius has
quoted him accurately is uncertain, but that he has captured Constantius' inten
tions is beyond question. In matters both sacred and secular, as Prof. Markus
has explored the meaning of those terms, Caesar was ultimately in control5.
In taking this stand, Constantius was addressing an authority question which
was hardly settled in the minds of Christian believers. Before the conversion of
Constantine, and subsequent imperial edicts granting toleration, the churches
* Special thanks to Dr John Lillis, Dean of Bethel Seminary, San Diego, for securing funds
assisting me in the presentation of this paper at the Fourteenth International Conference on
Patristic Studies at Oxford.
1 See T. Zahn, Ignatius von Antiochien (Gotha, 1873) and J.B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic
Fathers, Part II, S. Ignatius, S. Polycarp, 3 vols, 2n<l edn (London, 1889), for the foundational dis
cussions of the text and authenticity of the Ignatian letters. A welcome perspective is provided at
this conference by P. Collins, 'An Update on Questions Relating to the Authenticity of the Seven
Letters of Ignatius of Antioch'.
2 On Williams see T. George, 'Keeping Truth Alive as a Holy Calling: George Huntston
Williams in the Beloved Community of Memory and Hope', Harvard Divinity Bulletin 29 (Win
ter 2000/01), 4-6.
3 0/20(1951), 3-33, 3-26.
4 Athanasius, Hist. Arian. 33.
5 R.A. Markus, Sacred and Secular (Brookfield, 1994).
232 J.D. Smith III
had been united in rejecting the divine claims of the emperors and refusing
them any kind of worship. With the surprising rise of the emperor as some vari
ety of professing Christian, however, and the larger fourth-century debates over
matters 'Arian, Nicene and everything between,' the competing authority
claims of king and bishop became more complex. In this familiar scenario (as
in many others) Christians East and West arrived at apparently different
stances.
As Agnes Cunningham has succinctly noted, in the Western churches there
emerged the affirmation of two distinct autonomous societies, the church and
the state. This 'Theory of the Two Powers', as it came to be called, was ulti
mately given definitive expression by Gelasius I, bishop of Rome (492-496),
in a letter to the Emperor Anastasius. In the Eastern Churches, however, the
vision of a single, unified society with the emperor as head was the goal6.
For Williams, in the fourth century this Eastern view found an important
source in subordinationist Christology and, more particularly, the rise of
Arius' theology: 'The Arians held that the emperor, as the instrument of the
Supreme God, is the head of the Church founded by the Logos incarnate,
Christ, for the Empire is the earthly transcript of the Kingdom of God unto
whom Christ will deliver up His own'7. In his view the subordination of the
Son to the Father nurtures the subordination of the episcopal church to the
imperial state: 'AH who have worked through the fourth century have sensed
some affinity between Arianism and caesaropapism . . . '8.
Whether that sensibility would be true for each present reader is uncertain.
What seems clear, however, is that, in the fourth-century sphere of church-
state relations, the Arians of the East had no Ambrose. The great preacher of
Milan, as superbly detailed in McLynn's biography, subtitled Church and
Court in a Christian Capital, offers a landmark in defending the authority and
autonomy of the church in matters of doctrine and jurisdiction9. The bishop
stands above the Emperor in divine authority. His engagement with Valentin-
ian II (and his Arian mother, Justina), in 386 - leading to Ambrose' version of
'here I stand' in the cathedral of Milan, lifting the imperial edict against
Catholics - makes a definitive statement. So also does his accompanying line:
'The emperor, indeed, is within the church, not above the church'10.
There is no single mid-fourth-century figure like this in the East. Indeed,
among the notable Arian bishops of this era, the name of Eudoxius comes to
6 'Church and State', Encyclopedia of Early Christianity, 2nd edn (New York, 1997), p. 257.
For a fuller treatment, see her anthology, The Early Church and the State (New York, 1982).
7 Williams, p. 15.
8 Williams, p. 10.
9 N.B. McLynn, Ambrose of Milan: Church and Court in a Christian Capital (Berkeley,
1994). Still valuable is C. Morino, Church and State in the Teaching of St. Ambrose, tr. M. Joseph
Costelloe (Washington, 1969).
10 Ambrose, Aux. 36. See also his Epist. 51 and Sozomen, HE 7.25.
On Pseudo-Ignatius' Fourth-Century Antiochene Assertion of Episcopal Supremacy 233
mind. A candid look at his leadership reveals one who (in Simonetti's words)
'got himself elected bishop of Antioch by a coup de main', thereafter support
ing and abandoning Neo-arians and Homoeans at will to curry political favor.
Later serving as patriarch of Constantinople (360-70), Eudoxius seemingly
practised intrigue more memorably than theology11. So the question is posed:
during the fifteen-year reign of Valens (364-78), the last emperor to embrace
Arianism, were there any voices within his churches which advocated, not a
caesaropapism or political subservience, but episcopal supremacy?
The answer is yes, and we direct our attention to the fourth-century Ignatian
Long Recension (LR) and the redactor commonly called Pseudo-Ignatius.
Since the monumental work of Zahn and Lightfoot over a century ago estab
lished a broad consensus that the Middle Recension (MR) was authentically
Ignatian, the LR often has been ignored. Scholarly attempts to match Pseudo-
Ignatius with various late fourth-century Christian authors (for example
Acacius, Silvanus of Tarsus, Evagrius Ponticus, and others) have consistently
proven inconclusive12.
More recently, I have argued for a different approach: we discover Pseudo-
Ignatius not in the 'match game' with notable authors, but by taking seriously
the Antiochene connection, the Homoean theology, the enlisting of Ignatius as
a timely hero, and the quest for biblical unity which permeates the text. In
short (as demonstrated elsewhere), Pseudo-Ignatius is the voice of the Anti
ochene Homoean community, which, around 370, was near the midpoint of the
old Arian Euzoius' fifteen-year episcopacy13. If one denies Euzoius' presence
in the confession of faith he submitted, with Arius, to the Emperor Constantine
c. 327, then there is no text distinctively his to study14. But, in our historical
sources, there can be no discounting of his importance in the schism which
beset Syrian Antioch for decades15.
This being so, the fourth-century text before us has special significance. The
thirteen LR letters include six composed de novo and the seven authentically
11 M. Simonetti, 'Eudoxius', Encyclopedia of the Early Church, ed. A. Di Berardino (Cam

bridge, 1992), 1, 295-6.
12 For example, O. Perler, 'Pseudo-Ignatius und Eusebius von Emesa', HJG 11 (1958), 73-82;
R. Weijenborg, 'Is Evagrius Ponticus the Author of the Longer Recension of the Ignatian Let
ters?' Antonianum 44 (1969), 339-47; D. Hagedorn, Der Hiobkommentar des Arianers Julian,
PTS 14 (Berlin, 1973), pp. xxxiv-xxxv, xl-xli.
13 'Reflections on Euzoius in Alexandria and Antioch', SP XXXVI (2001), 514-19.
14 Socrates, HE I.26, and Sozomen, HE 1I.27. Document 30 in H.-G. Opitz, AW iii.l, Vrkun-
den zur Geschichte des Arianischen Streites (Berlin/Leipzig, 1935).
15 See F. Cavallera, Le Schisme d'Antioche (Paris, 1905); also G. Downey, A History ofAnti
och in Syria (Princeton, 1961), especially helpful archaeologically. For an overview of Antioch
ene Christianity, note especially D.S. Wallace-Hadrill, Christian Antioch (Cambridge, 1982) and
R. L. Wilken, John Chrysostom and the Jews (Berkeley, 1983), pp. 1-33. Unfortunately,
K. McCarthy Spoerl's 'The Schism at Antioch Since Cavallera', in Arianism After Arius, ed.
M. Barnes and D.H. Williams (Edinburgh, 1993), pp. 101-26, does not address Euzoius' era.
234 J.D. Smith III
Ignatian epistles, interpolated and enlarged. Ignatius to the Philadelphians falls

in the latter category. The passage from chapter four presented here offers both
a reminder of the redactor's approach to the Ignatian text and (with extensive
church order materials omitted) a clear assertion of episcopal supremacy by
Pseudo-Ignatius.
MR text and translation, Michael Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers (1999)
4. 1 STtou8daaxe ouv org euxapiaxia 4. Take care, therefore, to participate in one

XprjaGar uia yap aap^ xou Kupiou f|ncbv Eucharist (for there is one flesh of our Lord
'Ir|<toO XpiaxoC, Kai Iv Ttoxrj piov eI<; Jesus Christ, and one cup which leads to unity
gvcocuv xoC atnaxo<; afkoO' ev through his blood; there is one altar, just as
Gucuaaxf|piov, &q elq tmaKonoq, aua there is one bishop, together with the
xcp rcpeaPuxepicp Kai 8uxk6voii;, xol<; presbytery and the deacons, my fellow
auv8oi>Xoi<; \iov i'va 6 £av rcpdocrnxe, servants), on order that whatever you do, you
Kaxd Geov rcpdao-nxe. do in accordance with God.
LR text, J.B. Lightfoot, The Apostolic Fathers (1889) ; translation A. Roberts and
J. Donaldson, ANCL 1 (1867) = ANF 1 (1885).
'Eyd) nenoiQa elq vjn&<; fiv Kupicp, oxi I have confidence of you in the Lord, that ye
o68ev dAAocppovrjaexe' Sio Kai Gappcov will be of no other mind. Wherefore I write
ypoKpco xfj dîoGea> dyarcrj &u<dv, boldly to your love, which is worhty of God,
TtapaKaA,cov b\iaq \iiqt Ttioxet Kai evi and exhort you to have but one faith, and one
Kr|puyu.axi Kai urgi euxapiaxia ... xpfja0ai ol [kind of] preaching, and one Eucharist . . .
apxovxe<; rceiGapxeixcoaav xcp Kaiaapr ol Let governors be obedient to Caesar; soldiers to
oxpaxicoxai xoii; apxouaiv ol 8idKovoi those that command them; deacons to the
zoiq Ttpeo-puxepoii;- dpxiepeucuv ol presbyters, as to high-priests; the presbyters,
rcpeaPuxepov Kai ol 8idKovoi Kai 6 and deacons, and the rest of the clergy, together
XoiTto<; KXfj Po<; &Ha Ttavxi xcp Xacp Kai with all the people, and the soldiers, and the
zolq axpaxicbxai<; Kai zoiq apxoucu Kai govenors, and Caesar [himself], to the bishop;
xcp Kaiaapi, xcp ercicncorccp- 6 iniaKonoq the bishop to Christ, even as Christ to the
xcp Xpiaxcp, &q 6 Xpiaxo<; xcp Ttaxpv Kai Father. And thus unity is preserved
ouxco<; f| evoxt|<; 8id Ttdvxcov acbêxai. throughout.
Michael Holmes, to whose labours we owe the MR text utilized here, has
commented in personal communication, 'In a context in which the interpola
tor's foundational concern is Christology, the almost casual mention that the
emperor is to be subject to the bishop is unexpected and, in an Eastern docu
ment, seemingly unparalleled.' One source of his evaluation was a TLG
search for the basic root forms 'kaisar' and 'episkop' with a maximum of five
intervening words. While (as expected) there is a wealth of 'bishop of Cae-
sarea' type references, our LR passage in Philadelphians 4 was the only other
On Pseudo-Ignatius' Fourth-Century Antiochene Assertion of Episcopal Supremacy 235
reference in which 'Caesar and bishop' clustered together in the Greek litera
ture of the first five centuries16.
To cite an additional LR text, in Smyrnians 9 Pseudo-Ignatius exhorts his
readers,
Honour God indeed, as the author and Lord of all things, but the bishop as the high
priest who bears the image of God in his capacity of a priest. After him, we must also
honour the king ... For the priesthood is the very highest point of all good things
among men.
Especially since the era of Zahn and Lightfoot, literary connections between
the LR and Apostolic Constitutions (AC) have been widely recognized. While
critical examination of their relationship lies beyond the scope of this paper, it
is no surprise to find Pseudo-Ignatius supported by AC church order prescrip
tions:
The bishop, he is the minister of the Word, the keeper of knowledge, the mediator
between God and you in the several parts of your divine worship. He is the teacher of
piety; and, next after God, he is your father ... He is your ruler and governor ... your
king and potentate; he is, next after God, your earthly god, who has a right to be hon
oured by you17.
Essentially, what Antiochene redaction has done with both LR and AC doc
uments is to appropriate Syrian texts already supportive of episcopal leader
ship (for example the Didaskalia and Ignatian corpus) in generating a fourth-
century imperative inviting the church (per Frances Young) as an ancient
household to gather around episcopal authority. Confronting schism, apostles
and martyrs are present to invite all into the Great Church18.
It is important to note, however, that prior to the 'word' of episcopal
supremacy conveyed by the LR and AC, there were already legendary 'acts' in
which a bishop of Antioch had authoritatively confronted the emperor. First,
Eusebius tells us that (c. 249) Babylas had imposed public penitence on the
emperor Philip the Arab before allowing him into Easter worship. We are fur
ther told that, in 362, when Julian the Apostate visited Antioch, the oracle of
Apollo was being silenced by Babylas' nearby relics - and when they were
ordered moved, the temple was destroyed by fire19. Ordinarily, this would have
been a prime legacy for those in Euzoius' octagonal church to appropriate. He
16 M. Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations (Grand Rapids,
1999). Comment on the LR cited by permission per latest communication, 7 August 2003.
17 AC 11.26; tr. W. Whiston, rev. J. Donaldson, ANCL 17 (1870) = ANF 7 (1886).
18 Note F. Young, 'The Apostolic Constitutions: a methodological case-study', SP XXXVI
(2001), 105-18. On Pseudo-Ignatius' use of church order materials, particularly Haustafeln, see
N. Brox, 'Pseudo-Paulus und Pseudo-Ignatius: Einige Topoi altchristlicher Pseudoepigraphie',
VC 30 (1976), 181-88.
19 Eusebius, HE VI.34 with VI.29 and 39 for Babylas and Philip. For the sources relating to
Julian, see Downey, pp. 387-8, notes 41-45, with p. 364, note 217.
236 J.D. Smith III
had, however, already been adopted by a schismatic Antiochene group, the

broadly Nicene Meletians.
So the venerable Ignatius was resurrected - his remains discovered outside
the Daphnetic gate, his epistles reworked to provide a Homoean advocate, and
his martyrdom celebrated in the so-called 'Roman Acts', likely the first Greek
document to utilize the LR20. His voice was needed not only to bolster the pri
macy of one bishop in the Great Church over competing parties, but to claim
authoritative ground interfacing with a Roman emperor arguably more fierce
than the one under whom Ignatius was originally condemned - the emperor
Valens.
Since the beginning of his episcopate in 361, as Richard Hanson has noted,
Euzoius had approached the schismatic Antiochene parties as an Arian 'sang
pur', tolerant in allowing meeting places wherever possible21. A decade later,
following several years of warfare, Valens arrived for an extended stay in Syr
ian Antioch, ushering in a season of creative projects in art and architecture, as
well as brutal, sporadic persecutions (especially of magicians and Meletians)
which would disgust many - including the court orator, Themistios22. At times,
as in the case of the schismatic Paulinus, Euzoius could moderate Valens'
aggression; but more commonly (as in their 373 mission to Alexandria), when
efforts at theological persuasion lagged, imperial military enforcement fol
lowed23.
In conclusion, as Averil Cameron has observed, the term 'caesaropapism'
(denoting imperial control of the church) can be misleading. The actual situa
tion depended on the personality of the emperor and identity of church leaders
at a given moment24. In seeking their monuments (as my onetime teacher,
Ernst Kitzinger, would remind us) we both celebrate the preservation of the
Ambrose mosaic in Milan and lament the loss of the octagonal Great Church
in Antioch25. And from their literature, Pseudo-Ignatius offers a voice from the
Antiochene Homoean community of the 370s, framing the engagement of their
bishop Euzoius and emperor Valens even (as in Timothy Barnes' portrait)
while imperial Arianism was surely passing away26.
20 Zahn, pp. 33 ff., and Lightfoot, 380-3.

21 R.P.C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God (Edinburgh, 1988), p. 384.
22 Downey, pp. 403-13.
23 On the case of Paulinus, see Socrates, HE III.9, IV.2, V.5. He also records the Alexandrian
mission (rv.l and 20-24), as does Sozomen (HE VI. 19-20).
24 The Later Roman Empire (Cambridge, 1993), p. 67.
25 See Ken Johnson, 'Ernst Kitzinger, 90, Professor and Writer on Byzantine Art', New York
Times (9 Feb. 2003), pp. 44ff.
26 'The Collapse of the Homoeans in the East', SP XXIX ((1997), 3-16.
Gnomic Will and a Challenge to the True Humanity of
Christ in Maximus Confessor
M.C. Steenberg, Oxford
The Christological Problem
The desire of Maximus the Confessor to preserve the full humanity of

Christ, in concert with the fullness of his divinity, led to a natural tension
between the 'perfect humanity' (xeA,eiov ev dvGpcorc6xr|xi) proclaimed by the
definition of Chalcedon, and the 'like us in all respects except sin' (koxci
Ttavxa onoiov f|niv xcopi<; &uapxia<;) proclaimed in that same definition. If,
as Maximus readily confessed, human nature subsequent to the fall in Eden
was a nature imbued with a 'propensity to sin', a 'collective imprisonment of
fallen man'1, what then to make of Christ's full possession of such a nature,
yet lack of any actual sin - a doctrine mandated as much by Heb 4:15 as by
Chalcedon? With Maximus' deliberations on sinfulness as rooted in the mis
use of will, the problem can be stated more precisely: if the human will since
Eden is characterised by its inclination toward the wrong, by its very delibera
tive habitus that may choose the right, but is in some qualified sense inclined
towards its opposite, must not the incarnate Christ possess a will precisely so
defined, if he is indeed to possess a will 'like us in all respects'?
Maximus himself further complicates the issue: having been willing, in his
earlier writings, to allow for a gnomic disposition in the person of Christ, his
ongoing anti-Monothelete dialogue eventually drove Maximus to deny alto
gether the possibility of a yvcour| in the incarnate Logos. The person of the
divine Word-become-man cannot, by virtue of his divinity, which is simple
and perfect, allow for the deliberation of or possibility towards evil. But if
Christ's human nature is thus different from that of humanity as it exists in all
persons but himself, does not such a Christology fail the Nazianzen litmus
test: 'That which is unassumed is unhealed'?2 It is easy to write off the prob
lem with the rejoinder that Christ took on an 'unfallen' human nature, one that
was not 'sub-human' as the post-Adamic condition is often characterised; but
1 See Thai. 21 (PG 90, 312A, 313BC; Thai. 61 (PG 90, 629C). Cf. J. Boojamra, 'Original sin
according to St Maximus the Confessor', Saint Vladimir's Theological Quarterly 20.1-2 (1976),
20-3.
2 Greg. Naz., Ep. 101.
238 M.C. Steenberg
such a nature hardly needed saving. Has Maximus made Christ's humanity so
perfect that it loses its soteriological value?
The Xoyoq, xponoq, yvcouii Delineation
This is not a new question, but it is one that has not always inspired a com
plete answer. Maximus' own solution to this nagging problem of Dyophysite
and Dythelete Christology was his famous delineation of the various charac
teristics of will with respect to man. By positing a distinction between the nat
ural or God-engendered will (the A,6yo<;-will) which underlies and determines
the nature and character of human willing, and the personal or individual real
isation and manifestation of this natural will (the xporcoi; of the will), Max
imus was able to bypass the initial problem of identifying and separating the
hypostatic realisation of the GeA,r|ua from the volitional aspect of human
nature that lies more properly at the level of ofcaia. This move in emphasis
from earlier discussion on cpvaiq and £vepyeia to the volitional GeA,nua rep
resents, in part, Maximus' important distinction between the natural elements
in man (thus the notion of a A,6yo<;-will), and personal will as manifestable
only in the xponoq of the individual hypostasis. That the personal will can
only be manifest in the person, and not in the larger nature, seems a straight
forward proposition; but Maximus' clear distinction between xponoq and
A,6yo<; gave him the key by which he could unlock the dialectic between the
fallen nature of all men on the one hand and the yet inviolate and unthwarted
nature of humanity on the other3. Scholars such as Larchet and Thunberg have
made clear the importance these propositions had for Maximus' ascetical the
ology4.
But the very distinction by which they are maintained also presents Max
imus with a problem. If it is not the Xoyoq of human willing that is distorted
as a result of the fall, then the notion of fallen will must reside in the xponoq
of individual willing. But how can there be a pandemic, a fallenness of will
throughout all humankind, if such fallenness is centred in xporcoi which are,
by definition, personal and individualised?5 Enter Maximus' discussion on the
yvcbur|, or gnomic 'inclination' in the manner of willing actualised in the
xporcoi of human hypostases across the entire race of Adam. The human will,
established in the Xoyoq of its nature, continues to be realised in unique
xpoTtoi by the self-determining power of the hypostatic individual; but there is
3 Cf. Disp. Pyrrh. (PG 91, 308C).

4 See J.-C. Larchet, La divinisation de l'homme selon saint Maxime le Confesseur (Paris: Les
Editions du Cerf, 1996), 437-640; L. Thunberg, Microcosm and Mediator: The Theological
Anthropology of Maximus the Confessor (Lund, Sweden: C.W.K. Gleerup Lund, 1965) 301-50.
5 See Thai. 65 (PG 90, 696D-697C); cf. J.-C. Larchet, Maxime le Confesseur, mediatew
entre l'Orient et I'Occident (Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 1998), 97 n. 88 for additional citations.
Gnomic Will and a Challenge to the True Humanity of Christ in Maximus Confessor 239
a deliberative inclination or habitus brought into these xpoTtot by virtue of the

manner of generation of the hypostases themselves (here Maximus' discus
sions on pleasure/pain in the act of birthgiving6). Rather than human individu
als showing forth a will that is grounded in the A,oyo<; of their nature, which is
an image of the A,6yoi of God and which would therefore always freely will as
God wills (thus Maximus' vision of the freedom of will in the Kingdom), the
human condition after the fall is one of distorted deliberative capability,
requiring one to identify and choose between the right and the wrong in the
face of a distorted inclination.
And here the great problem. Maximus is clear that this gnomic disposition
is the lot of humankind, that the condition of all humanity is one in which the
freedom of volitional self-determination is experienced within the context of
the 'gnomic challenge'. The self-determining human individual has an obsta
cle to right determination ever nagging at the very core of his being, in the
form of the yvcbur|7. If, then, this yvcbun, is removed from the person of the
incarnate Christ, does he any longer meet with the 'like us in all ways' of the
Chalcedonian definition? If the incarnate Lord has removed from his person
the interior disposition, common to all men since Adam, which actively battles
against the right use of the will, can he any longer be said to be 'truly man' in
the sense that all other men are men?
The Exclusion of yvwuti in the Person of Christ
To work out an answer, we must first address the issue of the exclusion of
the yvcbp.r| from Christ. It is above all the idea of deliberation that drives Max
imus in this regard. If the one person of Christ were to possess a divine will
always knowing and willing the will of God whilst his human will deliberated
between the good and the evil, there could be conceived 'a constant quar
relling and arguing within himself to some conclusion, and that he was for this
reason two persons'8. This even though Maximus insists that distinct wills are
not always contradictory wills. Maximus ties the conception of the yvcbpr|
closely to that of ignorance or doubt9, which leads him naturally to identify it
with peccability. The yv6|iri is the seat of sin, for it is in the deliberation of
ignorance or doubt that adversity to the natural, and thus to the divine, can
come about. It is not sin itself, but the mode of willing proper to the human
hypostasis by which self-determination can be misused. J.P. Farrell has
6 See Thai. 61 (PG 90, 628BC, 632B, 633B), and indeed the whole of Thai. 61.
7 See Thai. 62 (PG 90, 652C) for Maximus' confession of the 8uo Kaxdpai; which combat
right living. The yv6u.r| is specifically cited.
8 Opusc. 3(PG91,56B).
9 See Disp. Pyrrh. (PG 91, 292D-293A); Opusc. 16 (PG 91, 192A-193B).
240 M.C. Steenberg
claimed that 'the form and peculiarity given to the human natural will by
Christ is not gnomic, nor can it be, since He has no human hypostasis'10. Far-
rell is right insofar as concerns the precision of hypostasis in his discussion:
the hypostasis of the incarnate Christ is not simply human nor divine, but
human-divine in a composite sense". Yet here the peculiar hypostasis of the
Saviour means, for Maximus, that human nature, which in the case of normal
human persons is invariably hypostatised in a manner producing a yvconr|, is
hypostatised in a different manner - sans yvcbur| - in Christ. Has not he
become, then, in some sense inhuman?
Maximian scholarship, for its part, does not appear adequately to have
addressed this question, nor have scholars of Christology always appreciated
Maximus' subtlety and ambiguity on this finer point of gnomic willing12. But
can the challenge of Christ's true humanity be met in the Maximian scheme?
Centuries of appreciation for the thought of a man who has more then once
been termed the 'greatest of Byzantine theologians'13 implies a yes, but this
response requires fleshing out. I am able here only to introduce one manner by
which this might be accomplished, and this through a reassessment of Max
imus' earlier admissions of a yvd)ur| in Christ and a careful study of the cir
cumstances and context in which he would later come to deny it.
Reassessing the Gnomic Exclusion
It is telling that Maximus allowed, in his earlier writings, for a 'passionless

yvri)ur|' to exist in the person of the incarnate Logos. The date for this delib
eration must be around ad 628-30, while Maximus was at Cyzicus and before
the full intensity of his Monothelete engagement14. Within this context Max
imus considers it possible for the yv&>\ir\ to exist apart from the passionate
state that makes such inclination a personal act of sin; and in such a state the
yvcbur| may in fact exist in concord with the natural will. Hence Christ's
10 J.P. Farrell, Free Choice in St. Maximus the Confessor (Pennsylvania: St Tikhon's Semi
nary Press, 1989), 116.
11 See N. Madden, 'Composite Hypostasis in Maximus Confessor', SP XXVTI (1993), 175-
97, and the shorter study by J. Stead, 'The meaning of hypostasis in some texts of the
"Ambigua" of Saint Maximos the Confessor' , Patristic and Byzantine Review 8.1 (1989), 25-33.
12 The best address of the matter remains the brief Annexe in F.-M. Lethel, Thiologie de l'ag-
onie du Christ: La liberte humaine du Fils de Dieu et son importance soteriologique mises en
lumiere par saint Maxime le Confesseur (Paris: Editions Beauchesne, 1979), 127-9. Cf. Thun-
berg, Microcosm and Mediator, 220-43.
13 A. Louth, 'Recent research on St Maximus the Confessor: A survey', St. Vladimir's Theo
logical Quarterly 42 (2001), 73.
14 See Or. Dom. (PG 90, 877D), where Christ possesses &TtaGfj xf|v yvcour|v; also Opusc. 1
(PG 91, 80A). Cf. Thunberg, Microcosm and Mediator, 227 n. 9; P. Sherwood, An Annotated
Date-List of the Works of Maximus the Confessor (Rome: Orbis Catholicus, 1952), 31.
Gnomic Will and a Challenge to the True Humanity of Christ in Maximus Confessor 24 1
yv®\ir\, in these earlier writings, is passionless and does not actually conflict
with his human or divine natures. It is only later, after 643 and well into his
engagement with the Monothelete controversy, that Maximus makes his first
roundabout suggestion that the yvcbur| cannot exist in Christ15, for reasons he
will make more explicit later as centred on the deliberative nature of gnomic
willing, discordant with the singular willing of the Word16. Maximus is here
battling the Monothelete insistence on concordant wills being contradictory,
using a lack of yvtf)ur| (which is not a proper will, but a manner of willing) as
the means for supporting the possibility of two non-contradictory wills. But
can this denial of a yv6)\ir\ in Christ really be squared with Maximus' thought
elsewhere, most especially in his discussion on Christ's deliberation in Geth-
semane?17 Here it is above all Jesus' self-determining will as man to heed the
will of God that gives the moment its meaning in Maximus' thought ('To say
in this context that the human will of Christ was moved by the divine will
would ruin the whole point'18); and there is ample evidence in the scriptural
text itself to suggest a certain 'inclination' or gnomic tendency in the interior
conflict experienced by Christ. And this is precisely what makes his accep
tance of the cup soteriologically important. Should Christ not face such inte
rior conflict, then he is only, to use Dalmais's phrase, 'presque comme nous
aux passions naturelles'19, and not actually 'like us in all respects save sin';
and the human will which he assumes and saves is not the same will experi
enced by his fellow men.
We must see in Maximus' move from an allowance to a disallowance of a
yVcbur| in Christ, not the actual denial of a deliberative capability grounded in
an inclination or disposition at the level of the human xpoTto<;, but rather a
denial only of such a view of gnomic willing as associates guilt or sinfulness
with the realised nature of the will itself. Maximus' later determination that
attributing a gnomic will to Christ is 'blasphemy' must be read in the context
of the argument within which it was made - the specific refutation of
15 See Disp. Pyrrh. (PG 91, 309A); Opusc. 16 (PG 91, 193A), with Sherwood, Date-list, 51.
Maximus still allows for a yvebun in Christ only one year earlier, c. 642, in Opusc. 7. Maximus
had then been engaged with the Monothelete controversy for some eight years, if we accept Sher
wood's reading (p. 9) of the Ambigua as the first clear evidence of it in the Maximian corpus, and
follow him (cf. p. 39) in accepting von Balthasar's dating of that text to 634. Even at this stage
of his anti-Monothelete reflection, Maximus has still not come to deny a gnomic will in Christ.
16 See Opusc. 7 (PG 91, 80A).
17 See Opusc. 6 (PG 91, 65A-68D); cf. Lethel, Thiologie de 1'agonie, esp. pp. 86-99, and F.-
M. Lethel, 'La priere de Jesus a Gethsemani dans la controverse monothelite', in Maximus Con
fessor: Actes du Symposium sur Maxime le Confesseur, Fribourg 2-5 Septembre 1980, ed F.
Heinzer and C. Schonborn, Paradosis 27 (Fribourg: Editions Universitaires, 1982), 207-14.
18 D. Bathrellos, 'The Relationship between the Divine Will and the Human Will of Jesus
Christ according to Saint Maximus the Confessor', SP XXXVII (2001), 350.
19 I.H. Dalmais, 'L'innovation des natures d'apres S Maxime le Confesseur (a propos de
Ambiguum 42)', SP XV (1984), 288, italics mine.
242 M.C. Steenberg
Monothelete assertions of deliberative conflict in Christ's person. But in a

larger and more ultimate sense, Christ has most potently shown, for Maximus,
that the gnomic inclination which has plagued humankind since Adam by
manifesting individual xporcoi of the human will as fallen and sinful, can be
overcome through obedience and divine grace. But such is only possible if, in
some manner, Christ himself experienced and overcame this very yvcbur|.
When Maximus' later denials of this gnomic aspect to Christ's human will are
tempered with his earlier allowances of the same, the balance may yield a
Christology that goes some way to solve the gnomic problem.
The Image of God in the Commentary On Genesis of
Didymus the Blind
Peter D. Steiger, Washington
Considerable attention has been given recently to the patristic interpretation

of Genesis 1 :26a and the broader implications of the imago dei on other areas
of theology. My presentation will contribute to this discussion by outlining the
exegesis of Didymus the Blind whose commentary On Genesis has not
received as much attention in recent scholarship1. I will summarize the main
points of Didymus' exegesis of this passage in four sections dealing with the
following: the meaning of the word avGpcorco<;; how avGpamo<; is made 'in
the image of God'; the Christological import of being made in the image; and
the distinction between being made 'in the image' and 'according to the like
ness'.
Since ancient exegesis proceeds with examination of the meaning of spe
cific words and their context, Didymus begins with a consideration of the
word avQpomoq, seeking to explain the reality that this word signifies. He
suggests four possibilities for the word in this verse based on its use else
where in scripture. Initially, he states that avGpamoi; designates the combi
nation of body and soul, but this is not the first of the meanings he supports
through scriptural examples. Rather, Didymus cites two verses from the New
Testament that suggest reading &vGpcorco<; to mean soul (\j/uxfj<;), or more
particularly mind (vou<;). The first citation, 1 Peter 3:4, speaks of the dvGp-
csmoq 'hidden in the heart', what Didymus calls the soul; the second,
Romans 7:22, refers to 'delighting in the Law of God according to the inner
avGpamot;', what Paul calls the 'law of his mind' (Romans 7:23). Associat
ing these New Testament verses, Didymus discovers a figurative meaning
for avGpomoi;, so it can now refer to the soul and, specifically, the mind.
However, the intended meaning of the word in this verse depends on an
examination of the context; prior to this, other possible understandings are
proposed.
1 Emilien Lamirande, 'Le masculin et le feminin dans la tradition alexandrine: le commen-

taire de Didyme L'Aveugle Sur la Genise', Science et Esprit 41 (1989), 137-65; Placid Solari,
'Christ as Virtue in Didymus the Blind', in Purity of Heart in Early Ascetic and Monastic Liter
ature, ed. Harriet A. Luckman and Linda Kulzer (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1999),
67-88.
244 P.D. Steioer
When restricted to the literal meaning, avGpcorccx; refers to the compound of

body and soul. Didymus cites Job 1 : 1 and Genesis 6:3 as examples of this use
of avGpcoTtoi; in representing historical persons. This literal understanding is
the most obvious, and he calls it the meaning 'according to the first glance
(£TuPoA,f|v)', implying a close connection to the senses. Next, Didymus cites
2 Corinthians 4: 16, where Paul speaks of the 'exterior avGpcorco<;', suggesting
that it is an appropriate term for speaking of the sensible body, though not
without qualification.
Lastly, Didymus claims that 'there are some who say that avGpcoTto<; is
composed of three parts: body, soul, and spirit'2. He provides three scripture
passages in support of this view: 1 Thessalonians 5:23, Romans 8:16, and
Daniel 3:86, each suggesting a spirit (Ttveuuaxo<;) in avGpcorco<; distinct from
the Holy Spirit and the soul. Opponents of this opinion equate this spirit with
the soul or the mind, and to support this view Didymus cites Matthew 10:28,
where the Lord recommends fear of the One who is able to cast both body and
soul into Gehenna. While recording both opinions, Didymus does not resolve
this question; rather, he includes them to show that there are several possible
meanings for avGpamo<; in Genesis 1:26.
Having proposed several meanings for the word avGpamo<;, Didymus next
explains which one is intended by God3. He asserts that in this verse, avGpco-
rco<; is referring to neither a compound nor the physical body because these are
not 'in the image of God'. Didymus' reasoning is based on his claim that God
is not anthropomorphic, and he appeals to John 4:24 and 1 John 3:24, where
God is called Spirit and Light. God, who is formless and simple, cannot be
imaged by something corporeal or compound. As further evidence, Didymus
refers to Zachariah 4:10, where God is said to have seven eyes, and Psalm
16:8, which implies that God has wings. Because humans have only two eyes
and no wings, he concludes that avGpcorco<; cannot be in the image of God
in any sensible way4. However, Didymus suggests that avGpamo<; must be
the image of God somehow, since Paul refers to it as 'image and glory of God'
(1 Corinthians 11:7).
The point of departure for establishing how avGpamo<; is 'in the image
(eIkaw) of God' is to consider God in the context of the first chapter of Genesis5.
2 This is clearly a reference to the doctrine of Origen, though he is never named, nor are the
opponents of this view.
3 SC 233, 56.13. Clearly for Didymus, the purpose is not to discover the intention of the
human author, but that of God, whom he considers the one that gives the text meaning.
4 Didymus is quick to point out that just because the texts he cites refer to God having seven
eyes and wings, this does not mean he takes these passages as reflecting any sensible members
in God, but that they symbolize certain immaterial attributes of God.
5 There is a subtle shift here from considering the meaning of the word avGpamoc, to now
examining the understanding of eIkcov. This is evident when Didymus refers to Paul's use of
eIkcov in 1 Cor. 11:7. This is also the initiation of Didymus' interweaving of Gen. 1 :26-27 with
1 Cor. 11:3, 7. The reason for linking these two is their similarity of vocabulary.
The Image of God in the Commentary On Genesis of Didymus the Blind 245
Didymus argues that in the first twenty-five verses God is revealed as a rational
Creator, the commander (apxcov) and guide (rcpor|yr|xf|<;) of all creation, whose
plan is carried out by his Word. Then, in verse 26, God makes avGpcorco<; such
that he is able to order and command (apxeiv) the irrational beasts. Just as God
rationally orders and guides the created world, so avGpamo<; orders and guides
the irrational animals. The idea of rational order leads Didymus to 1 Corinthians
11:3, where Paul writes, 'The head of every man (dvf|p) is Christ'. Didymus con
siders the ability to order irrational animals as analogous to the headship
(KecpaA,f]) of Christ over man, because just as the Word (kbyoq) gave order to
creation, so also through him is order given to the mind. So, being 'in the image'
entails the rational ordering of irrational creatures in imitation of Christ who gov
erns the mind6. However, Didymus points out that this is only an analogy, since
the rational order of God and that of avGpcorco<; have differing content. As an
example, he points to the practice of virtue: just as the one who participates in a
certain virtue becomes an image of it, so it is with the one who imitates God7.
Didymus summarizes: strictly speaking, avGpamo<; is the mind and soul; it is that
which, participating in God, comes to be by this participation the image of him'8.
Once he has demonstrated that the mind is an image of God through imitat
ing Christ by participating in reason, Didymus elaborates on how this is by cit
ing Galatians 4:19, where Paul speaks of being 'in labour until Christ be
formed in you'. When true knowledge of Christ enters the soul, it is marked
with the traits of Christ, causing it to be formed as an image of him9. So, the
mind that knows Christ comes to be an image of Christ, and the soul that is
formed 'in the image' of Christ is 'in the image' of God. This makes possible
the distinction between avGpamoi; 'in the image of God', and Christ as 'the
Image of God'.
Through his interpretation that the soul is 'in the image of God' through
participation in Christ, Didymus initiates his Christological explanation for
this text. He states plainly that the image of God is the only begotten Son, sup
porting this with Paul's statement in Col. 1 : 15, 'he is the image of the invisi
ble God'. However, the Son is not an image by participation, but by nature and
without defect, as Christ says in John 14:9, 'the one who has seen me has seen
6 The concept of imitation (uiueoum) will be central to the distinction which Didymus
makes between Christ as image of God and humans as in the image of God which follows. It also
is an important element in his spirituality, as it is through imitation of God that we come to par
ticipate in God.
7 SC 233, 57.28-29. The point is that one who participates in virtue does not become virtue
itself, but rather becomes an image of it in the sense that the person reveals the virtue through
behaviour.
8 SC 233, 57.26-28.
9 Guiding Didymus' exegesis of this passage is a recurring theme in Didymus' commentary
On Genesis of the teacher as one who metaphorically labours like a pregnant woman to give birth
to knowledge of the truth in the minds of his disciples. The quote from Galatians also seems to
have this metaphor in mind.
246 P.D. Steiger
the Father'. Didymus points out that this distinction does not mean there is
more than one image of God, as though there was an image of the Father and
an image of the Son. As is reported in Hebrews 1 : 3, the Son is 'the imprint of
God by nature', while the rational soul is only image of God by participation.
Since no created thing is able to be an image and imprint of God by nature, so
Genesis does not read 'Let us make avGpamo<; an image\ but 'Let us make
avGpcoTto<; in the image' . As such, it is through participation in the Son, the
Image and Aoyo<; of God, that avBpcorco<; comes to be the image of God.
Didymus concludes his Christological treatment by stating that avGpcorco<; has
been created so as to be able to contain the Image of God.
Didymus' distinction of image and likeness derives from the Christological
exegesis he has just rendered. Because avGpcoTto<; is not an image of God by
nature, this implies some dynamism: the more a rational soul imitates and par
ticipates in the Son, the more it is 'in the image of God'. He notes that the verb,
'to make', is used in two ways: to make 'in the image' and to make 'in the like
ness'. He distinguishes likeness as an extraordinary resemblance to God, one
without fault that represents the ultimate degree of being made 'in the image'.
Being made 'in the image' is the starting point in a progressive development
toward being made 'in the likeness'. The priority of being made 'in the image'
is not a chronological necessity, but a logical one - avGpcorco<; must first be a
rational creature, that is, in the image of God, before coming to be in the like
ness of God. Didymus stresses that the Spirit shows the distinction in Genesis
1:27 by mentioning God's making avGpamo<; in the image without mentioning
the likeness. This is illustrated in practical circumstances because 'the mind
which comes to piety is first marked or impressed in the image of God and only
later, through progress toward perfection, comes to be in the likeness of God'10.
He appeals to 1 John 3:2: 'we are God's children now; what we will be has not
yet been revealed, but we know that, when it is revealed, we will be like him'.
As children of God, we are 'in the image of God' ; after progress, we will come
to be like him. Paul also testifies to this when he encourages the Colossians
(3:10) to 'come to be in the image of the one who created them'. Paul exhorts
the Colossians to become what they should have been by nature, that is, 'in the
image of God'. Didymus explains that every avGpcorco<;, as a rational creature,
is in the image of God, having the capacity to contain the Image of God and
participate in reason. However, being made in the image is only a capacity; if
it is actually attained, then dvGpcoTto<; comes to be in the image as it was in the
first creation. Didymus here seems to be taking some account of sin, which
detracts from being 'in the image'11. By way of analogy, Didymus points to the
10 SC 233, 58.27-59.1.
11 Sin diminishes what avGpamoc, is by nature - instead humans become like irrational
beasts. This explains the common appeals Didymus makes throughout the commentary for his
audience not to be like certain animals.
The Image of God in the Commentary On Genesis of Didymus the Blind 247
infant child, who by nature has the disposition to be rational, but does not yet
possess reason - the capacity is present and will develop if the child is not resis
tant to education. Similarly, avGpcorcoi; possesses the capacity to be in the
image, as long as it is not overwhelmed by vice and sin. If sins have accumu
lated in the soul, it is necessary that these 'receive the broom' (Lk. 15:8), the
word of penitence. This removes the obscurity that has flooded the soul so the
traits of the Image of God reappear in it. Thus, prior to any progress toward
being in the likeness of God, avGpcmo<; must be in the image of God.
As this summary of the main points of his exegesis of Gen. 1:26a demon
strates, Didymus remains within the Alexandrian tradition of interpretation.
Like his predecessors, he sees this passage as part of the noetic creation and
links the image of God to the incorporeal soul. In addition, he follows Origen
in depicting the Christological significance of this verse and in using Paul's
theology of the image of God to explain Genesis. Consistent with the Alexan
drian tradition, he emphasizes spiritual progress and the distinction of being
made in the image and in the likeness. He follows Philo in explaining how
avGpcorco<; is in the image of God by ruling over irrational creatures. But there
are several elements in Didymus' exegesis which merit further study. Didymus
seems to be aware of alternatives to the Alexandrian tradition in his presenta
tion of views opposed to Origen. Also significant are places where Didymus
appeals to scripture passages not linked before in the Alexandrian tradition,
but common in Antioch. Two examples of this are his connection of Genesis
1:26 with 1 Corinthians 11:3-7 and 1 Peter 3:4. Didymus' exegesis could also
be compared to that of Cyril of Alexandria and other monastic authors, in
order to discover similarities and differences. Finally, some research on his
understanding of participation is also needed since this was a term common to
contemporary Neoplatonism.
Anti-Chalcedonianism, Hellenic Religion and Heresy in
Zacharias Scholasticus' Life ofSeverus
Jan-Eric Steppa, Lund
Exploring the theological controversies of the early Church may, for a vari
ety of reasons, be a frustrating business. Dealing particularly with the Chal-
cedonian controversy of the late fifth and early sixth century, frustration may
even grow stronger as one realizes that the doctrinal barriers, which for fifteen
hundred years have forcefully obstructed unity between the churches, are even
less solid than the rice paper walls separating the rooms in traditional Japanese
houses. Yet, in spite of the efforts during the last hundred years, among acad
emic scholars as well as within a number of joint ecumenical commissions, to
prove the theological rift between the Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian tra
ditions to be more imagined than real, division between the churches remains,
partly due to the usual diehard misconceptions about the doctrinal positions of
the other side.
It is a fact that most of the past and still present misconceptions about Chal-
cedonians and non-Chalcedonians derive from the semantic possibilities
attached to words such as 'hypostasis', 'prosopon', and 'physis', not to speak
of the confusion caused by the highly questionable epithets 'monophysitism'
and 'dyophysitism'. However, some misconceptions about the competing fac
tions in the Chalcedonian controversy are not based on semantics. For
instance, there is the belief, particularly maintained by Western and Chal
cedonian oriented scholars from Pope Leo I to Heinrich Bacht (and, unfortu
nately, to some extent even William Frend)1, that the anti-Chalcedonian
movement mainly consisted of dangerous crowds of conservative and anti-
intellectual monks, fanatically steamed up against something they did not
understand and that did not concern them anyway. Though it is impossible to
deny the political importance of monastic rioting and turmoil during the Chal
cedonian conflict, it is obvious that the stereotype of anti-Chalcedonians as
simple-minded and furious monks provides a deeply unbalanced picture of the
anti-Chalcedonian population in the Eastern Empire.
1 Heinrich Bacht, 'Die Rolle des orientalischen Monchtums in den kirchenpolitischen

Auseinandersetzungen um Chalkedon (431-519)', in Das Konzil von Chalkedon, ed. A. Grill-
meier and H. Bacht, vol. 2 (Wurzburg, 1953), 193-314, especially 243, 2, 296-297; W.H.C.
Frend, The Rise of the Monophysite Movement: Chapters in the History of the Church in the
Fifth and Sixth Centuries (Cambridge, 1979), 136.
250 J.-E. Steppa
It is hardly surprising that the material challenging this old and lasting
stereotype is almost exclusively found in anti-Chalcedonian sources, for
instance, the works of Severus of Antioch, John Rufus, and Zacharias Scholas-
ticus. The evidence which can be drawn from these sources concerning the
social outline of the anti-Chalcedonian communities, particularly the monastic
community centred around the charismatic leadership of Peter the Iberian in
Palestine, was enough to suggest to Derwas Chitty that the anti-Chalcedonian
movement seemed to belong to highly-educated aristocrats rather than a sim
ple-minded monastic populace2. The preliminary attention drawn by Chitty to
the connections between the anti-Chalcedonian movement and the academic
centres of the Eastern Empire, through personal contacts upheld by leading
anti-Chalcedonians with Christian Neoplatonists such as Aeneas of Gaza3, has
not been further investigated. Instead, there has been a disturbing lack of inter
est in elucidating the anti-Chalcedonian movement against the background of
the intellectual life of the eastern Mediterranean lands. The only exception is
the various attempts to trace the illusive figure of Dionysius the Areopagite to
leading anti-Chalcedonian intellectuals, and even to Peter the Iberian himself*.
One of the principal sources for our knowledge of the intellectual setting of
the anti-Chalcedonian movement is Zacharias Scholasticus' Life of Severus,
written in Constantinople possibly during the patriarchate of Severus in Anti
och, 512-5185. Covering Severus' life only up to his installation as patriarch of
Antioch in 512, the work is less a biography proper than an apology. Adopting
a biographic narrative structure, it responds to certain tabloid accusations
directed against Severus, namely that he had been caught red-handed offering
pagan sacrifice during his studies in Alexandria and Beirut. Written by one
who knew him more closely than anyone else, the Life contains a vivid and
personal picture of Severus and his development from a young pagan-minded
catechumen during his student days to a devout monk under the heirs of Peter
the Iberian, an ardent combatant for anti-Chalcedonian orthodoxy at the court
of the Emperor Anastasius, and, finally, a prominent leader of the patriarchal
see of Antioch. But the Life is more than a story of the spiritual maturation of
a future church leader. In fact, the story told by Zacharias may even be more
2 Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford, 1966), 88, 105.

3 Zacharias Scholasticus, 'Vita Isaiae monachi', in Vitae Virorum apud Monophysitas Cele-
berrimorum, ed. E.W. Brooks, CSCO, series syr, 3, 25 (Louvain, 1907), 12; Zacharias Scholas
ticus, Life of Severus, Vie de Severe par Zacharie le Scholastique, ed. M.-A. Kugener, PO 2.1
(Paris, 1907) 90.
4 Ernest Honigmann, Pierre L'lberien et les ecrits du pseudo-Denys l 'Areopagite (Brusells,
1952); Hieronymus Engberding, 'Kann Petrus der iberer mit Dionysius Areopagita identifiziert
werden?', OrChr 38 (1954), 68-95; Irenee Hausherr, 'Le pseudo-Denys est-il Pierre L'lberien?',
OCP 19 (1953), 247-60; Ren6 Roques, 'Pierre l'lberien et le "Corpus" dionysien', RHR 145
(1954), 69-98; Michel van Esbroeck, 'Peter the Iberian and Dionysius the Areopagite: Honig-
mann's thesis revisited', OCP 59 (1993), 217-27.
5 See n. 3.
Anti-Chalcedonianism, Hellenic Religion, and Heresy in Zacharias Scholasticus 251
fascinating if read against the wider background of the phenomenon of Chris-

tianization, or more specifically, the Christianization of the Greek paideia
among the intellectual elites in the academic centres of the Eastern Empire.
Attempts to explore this important dimension of the Life have most success
fully been undertaken by Frank Trombley in the second volume of his
acclaimed study Hellenic Religion and Christianization6.
The Life of Severus by Zacharias Scholasticus is evidently one of the most
important sources for anti-Chalcedonian history in the fifth and early sixth
centuries, not least because it provides valuable knowledge of the social net
works around Peter the Iberian and his disciples. The question remains, how
ever, whether the historical value of the text may exceed beyond the rational
istic sobriety and non-hagiographic tendency that endows that narrative with
the sense of historical credibility appreciated by scholars insisting on strict
objectivity from ancient sources. In other words, are we constrained to use the
Life of Severus merely as a source for empirical reconstruction of the socio-
historical conditions during the reigns of Zeno and Anastasius, or may the nar
rative reveal patterns of cultural meaning, making it possible to trace a specific
anti-Chalcedonian ideology within the text?
Zacharias' biographical sketch of the life of the young Severus is almost
completely focused on the conflicting relations between the Christian group
known as the philoponoi, and intellectual devotees to Hellenic religion at the
academies of Alexandria and Beirut. Throughout the major part of the work,
the author generously provides detailed and intriguing reports about the efforts
of the philoponoi to expose the use of magic and other cult practices among
Hellenic professors. But more important is his account of the use among the
philoponoi of rationalistic arguments against the magic and mythology of Hel
lenic religion, hence highlighting the attempts of these Christian intellectuals
to eliminate Hellenic mythology and cult practices from the Greek paideia. It
is clear from Zacharias' account that the philoponoi, in their activities against
Hellenic cult, divination, and magic, managed to elaborate a synthesis between
Christian religion and a Greek rational tradition that proved forceful enough to
attract students who had previously been under the influence of pagan profes
sors and joined in their magical rites. This is where we find the main achieve
ment of the philoponoi for the process of Christianization in the academic
cities of the Eastern Empire, where intellectual paganism, as late as the end of
the fifth century, continued to exercise significant influence.
The further question of whether this synthesis had any implications for the
formulation of Christian theology is significant. Is it possible to speak of a
merging of the Christian worldview and the Greek rationalist tradition into a
Platonic theology, where the emphasis on the heavenly realities rather than the
6 F.R. Trombley, Hellenic Religion and Christianization c.370-529, vol. 2, Religions in the
Graeco-Roman World 115 (Leiden, 1994), 1-51.
252 J.-E. Steppa
corporeal served as an effective instrument for philosophically well-founded

attacks on Hellenic religion? It lies near at hand to suggest that the philoponoi
of Alexandria and Beirut, as they analyzed and exposed the theurgic expres
sions of ancient cult with its oracles and magic formulas, defended the radical
distinction between the spiritual and the corporeal, and argued that divinity
could not be reached through worship of pagan idols or any other created
thing. Greek paideia was never the real target for the anti-pagan attacks of the
philoponoi, but the Hellenic corruption of rational truth through magic and
idolatry. Could we, then, identify a connection between the attacks of the
philoponoi against Hellenic idolatry and the anti-Chalcedonian struggle
against the idolatry which a large part of the Eastern population considered an
immediate consequence of the Chalcedonian formula, dividing Christ in two
and degrading him into a created being?
In his Life of Severus, Zacharias Scholasticus may not provide immediate
and satisfying evidence for any connection between anti-Chalcedonian ideol
ogy and Christian hostility towards the surviving Hellenic communities in the
Eastern Empire. It is, nevertheless, an evident fact that it was against the back
ground of constant struggle between Christian and Hellenic intellectuals that
Severus himself not only became a devout Christian, but also, in all probabil
ity, developed his hatred of the Chalcedonian faith. I will pose three additional
possibilities for a connection between anti-Chalcedonianism and Christian
intellectual activism against Hellenic religion.
First, there is the accusation of idolatry, which features commonly both in
anti-Hellenic and anti-Chalcedonian propaganda. The basic objection against
the Council of Chalcedon as expressed, for instance, by Severus of Antioch,
was that it had accepted the opinions of Nestorius, splitting Christ into a dual
ity of natures after the hypostatic union and establishing a dyophysite man-
worship7. This idea of the Chalcedonian faith as defining Christ as a created
being, materializing the mystery of Incarnation and, hence, re-establishing the
heresy of Arms, recurs constantly in anti-Chalcedonian tracts. However, it is
true that the heresy of Chalcedon - as is clear from one story in John Rufus'
Plerophories, where Christ himself complains that the Chalcedonian bishops
had deprived him of his divine glory - is more often explicitly associated with
Judaizing tendencies, rather than with Hellenic religion8. Still, we are dealing
with the very same notion of extreme rejection of any religion based on ven
eration of material idols.
Secondly, connections may also be found as regards the local contexts in
which intellectual anti-paganism and anti-Chalcedonianism may have coin
cided. The Life of Severus gives a strong impression of anti-Chalcedonian
homogeneity within the Christian intellectual groups in Alexandria and Beirut.
7 See The Sixth Book of the Select Letters of Severus, Patriarch of Antioch, Ed. E.W. Brooks,
2 vols in 4 (Oxford, 1902-4), 6, 38, 348, 375 (Syriac: 5, 42, 392, 422).
Anti-Chalcedonianism, Hellenic Religion, and Heresy in Zacharias Scholasticus 253
The case of Procopius and Aeneas of Gaza makes it hard to doubt that a sim
ilar doctrinal homogeneity prevailed also among the intellectuals at Gaza. The
counter-arguments in Aeneas' dialogue Theophrastus against Hellenic objec
tions about the immortality of the soul and bodily resurrection indicate that the
situation in Gaza was very similar to that depicted by Zacharias at Alexandria
and Beirut9. These circumstances urge us to pay close attention to a potential
link between the intellectual life in the academic centres of the Eastern Empire
and the making of anti-Chalcedonian doctrine.
Thirdly, for possible links between anti-paganism and anti-Chalcedonianism
we must not forget to observe the importance of Christian monasticism for
both anti-Hellenic activities and popular resistance against Chalcedon. In the
Life ofSeverus, where monasteries and monastic values play a significant role
for anti-Hellenic attacks, we are given detailed information on the close rela
tions between the philoponoi of Alexandria and the anti-Chalcedonian monks
at the Enaton monastery10. Later in the text, a full account is provided of the
association formed by Zacharias and Severus for Christian law school students
who were willing to combine their studies with ascetical practices, including
renunciation of secular life and exposure of magic rituals among their profes
sors and fellow-students". Several of these ascetic-minded law students even
tually ended up as prominent monks in Palestine, maintaining close relations
with the heirs and disciples of Peter the Iberian12. These are clues that bring
firm testimony to the possibility of an anti-Hellenic dimension of anti-Chal
cedonian asceticism, although further evidence is required.
These suggested connections between Christian hostility against Hellenic
religion and the anti-Chalcedonian movement should not be taken as more
than preliminary remarks. Still, the matter deserves further attention. Perhaps,
in the end, such a consideration of anti-Chalcedonianism against the immedi
ate background of the phenomenon of Christianization may lead us to regard
the opponents of Chalcedon not as simple-minded hotheads of doctrinal con
troversy but as natural citizens of the Late Antique world of religious transi
tion.
8 John Rufus, Plerophories. Temoignages et revelations contre le concile de Chalcedoine, ed.

F. Nau, PO 8.1 (1912), 30-1.
9 Aeneas of Gaza, Theophrastus siue de immortalitate et corporum resurrectione dialogus,
PG 85, 872-1003. See Manfred Wacht, Aeneas von Gaza als Apologet: Seine Kosmologie im
Verhdltnis zum Platonismus (Bonn, 1969).
10 Zacharias Scholasticus, Life ofSeverus, 14-16, 23-4, 27, 35-8, 43-5.
11 Zacharias Scholasticus, Life ofSeverus, 46-75.
12 Zacharias Scholasticus, Life ofSeverus, 83-100.
The Mystery of Christ as a Key
to the Cosmology of St. Maximus the Confessor
Torstein Theodor Tollefsen, Oslo
According to St Maximus' Quaestiones ad Thalassium 60, the reason for

the existence of all being is, radically and surprisingly, the hypostatic union,
that is the mystery of Christ. There is, then, a connection between creation and
cosmology on the one hand and the Incarnation and salvation on the other.
Now, cosmology is usually understood as a philosophical theory - for
instance, something like what is worked out in the natural philosophy of Aris
totle. If God enters the picture at all in non-Christian cosmology, it is in the
role of a principle explaining the origin of motion and of keeping the whole
cosmos together1. This picture is quite unlike what we find in St Maximus'
cosmology where the institution of the cosmos - its principles, causes, and ele
ments - stems from the divine motive of philanthropia. The creation is neither
the eternal result of cosmic necessity nor does it come from some eternal inter
nal activity of a Godhead that never has anything other than itself as object of
contemplation2.
Somehow, the world-view we find in St Maximus is 'warmer' than the one
met with in non-Christian thought - not that the world as such is viewed as
more pleasant, but because he has the daring to think that the whole cosmic
drama stems from the personal motif of the eternal inner relationship of the tri-
adic being of God himself. According to Plato, in his Timaeus, the divine
motive for the creation is the Goodness of the Architect of the world3. But this
Goodness is not specified as a love of something specific, something other
than God, of human beings. The world did not originate because God wanted
to establish communion with beings constituted of mind, soul, and body - the
last would have been considered unreasonable and impossible. In St Maximus'
Christian world-view, however, the totality of the world, the whole sensible
and intelligible cosmos, was made to enter communion with God. The mater
ial constituent of the world is neither some evil nor a pedagogical institution of
merely temporal significance to bring naked spirits back to God.
1 Cf. Aristotle, Metaphysics A. 7.

2 Cf. Plotinus' doctrine of double activity: Ennead 5.1.6, 5.4.2. Cf. E.K. Emilsson, 'Remarks
on the Relation of the One and Intellect in Plotinus', in Traditions of Platonism, ed. J. Cleary
(Aldershot, 1999).
3 Timaeus 29d ff.
256 T.T. TOLLEFSEN
But why talk of such ancient views of the world at all, in a modern world
with its scientific world-view, its elaborate economic and social systems, its
problems of morality, violation of human rights, and pollution of the environ
ment? There are good reasons. As human beings we depend upon nature and
are thrown into this world of pain and problems. If Christians abandon nature
as insignificant and focus only on history as the significant dimension of sal
vation of the soul, God might be reduced to a being within the world and space
is left for the unlimited exploitation of nature as religiously indifferent. For
obvious reasons, this view is quite unsatisfactory.
No Christian can be indifferent to the negative effects of exploitation and
destruction of the environment, but it is important to link such concerns to a
theology that thinks of cosmology and salvation as somehow belonging
together. One reasaon for this is that such a connection will make a strong
motivating factor. This brings us to what I have called the Christocentric cos
mology of St Maximus the Confessor and to what he called the mystery of
Christ, that is, the hypostatic union and its effects4.
It is quite easy to see the Christocentrism of Maximian theology, but this
Christocentrism could only be understood adequately within a Trinitarian
dimension. Both cosmology and salvation should be brought into the theolog
ical mystery, the mystery of God's eternal triune life. According to St Max
imus, creation and salvation are linked together in the 'energetic' movement of
contemplation and love in the Holy Triad itself. It is here that the logos of the
hypostatic union originated, for the sake of all creatures, with the natural pur
pose of deification of the whole in view. The mystery circumscribes the des
tiny of all beings, both in nature at large and in historical existence. All beings
are made to be recapitulated into communion with God, or, to use a Neopla-
tonic term with a specifically Christian significance for St. Maximus, for the
sake of the epistrophe, the conversion5.
The mystery was foreknown before the ages, by the Father as approved by
him, by the Son as being his work, by the Holy Spirit as cooperating in the
establishment and fulfilment of the mystery6. What, then, is the work of the
Son? The Son is, according to the Ambigua 7, in the first step of the Economy,
the one Logos containing all the logoi of creation and salvation. St Maximus
works out a system of the world that is a distinctively Christian metaphysics
that points to this one objective: the establishment of communion between
God and creatures through man. According to the Ambigua 41, nature has its
centre in man, the microcosm and mediator between God and the cosmic
4 'The Christocentric Cosmology of St. Maximus the Confessor', was the title of my thesis,
defended at the University of Oslo (Department of Philosophy) in 2000. 1 am at present revising
it for publication.
5 Two texts from the Ambigua, 7 and 41, leave a quite clear impression of the whole Max
imian 'system' of creation and redemption, the Ttpoo8o^ and the £rciaxpocpf|.
6 Ad Thai. 60 (CCG 22, p. 79).
The Mystery of Christ as a Key to the Cosmology of St. Maximus the Confessor 257
system. Through man communion is to be realised, because the divine phil

anthropy manifested the human being as the point at which the hypostatic
union could be actualised. Christ is the divine person that makes this come
about. It could all be summed up in the words of the Quaestiones ad Tha-
lassium 60:
For truly He who is the Creator of the essence of created beings by nature had also to
become the very Author of the deification of creatures by grace, in order that the Giver
of well-being [xo eu eivai] might appear also as the gracious Giver of eternal well-
being [xo dei eu elvat]7.
By now I think it should be quite clear how Maximus' Christocentrism should
be understood within a Trinitarian scheme. The economy of creation and sal
vation of man and the cosmos originated eternally in the communal life of the
Trinity. The agent for the execution of this divine dispensation is the Logos
himself. First he acts in the initial step of making the world according to the
system of logoi eternally conceived within himself8. This is, somehow, an
'incarnation' of the Logos in the natural world9. Then he is borne by the
Theotokos under historical conditions for the sake of fulfilling the work of sal
vation.
For philanthropic reasons man is created a microcosm and a mediator in
order that he could be, as an image of God, the object of the union between
God and creatures. But why? For the reason just stated, for the sake of the
philanthropy of the triune God. But why this love for human beings? There is
no answer to this question, since the mystery of Christ exists, according to the
Quaestiones ad Thalassium 60, on account of nothing, which obviously means
that the mystery of philanthropy is hidden in the eternal depths of the Trinity
and has no motive outside of God himself. God is and God loves, and if Chris
tianity has any scandal, I suppose it is located here rather than in the ontology
of the Incarnation as such10.
So, the eternal divine concern is for man as linked up with a totality of
beings, that is to a world that is his home. He was introduced into the whole
with the task of caring, cultivating, establishing communion horizontally and
vertically. Horizontally, he is to establish communion among his own kin and
between men and all living particulars; vertically, between levels of being in
7 Ad Thai. 60 (p. 79); Blowers' translation in St Maximus the Confessor, On the Cosmic
Mystery of Jesus Christ tr. Paul M. Blowers and Robert L. Wilken (New York, 2003), p. 128.
8 Cf. Capita 200 theologica et oeconomica 2.4 (PG 90, 1125d-28a; Ambigua 7 (PG 91,
1081c).
9 Cf. Ambigua 33 (PG 91, 1285c-88a).
10 Why should this be the real scandal of Christianity? Simply because it is completely
impossible to understand a perfect Godhead that under no constraint wants the creation of a
world that falls to corruption and wants himself to suffer death in the nature of his creatures for
the sake of his creatures. Just to imagine a God with such motives strikes me as rather surprising
and daring!
258 T.T. TOLLEFSEN
the hierarchy of being until the all enters communion with God11. If man lives
in accordance with his logos in Christ, he accomplishes his task. If he lives in
discord with his logos, he lives in sin and abuses his fellow men and the world,
a world of which he is a part and in which he should fulfil his task12. So, to be
concerned with the natural environment is to live as God made us to live. To
care for our fellow men, for animals, trees, springs, and so on is to move in the
direction of the blessed life.
I think the Maximian concept of the mystery of Christ could furnish, even
for modern Christians, a motivation for taking environmental concerns seri
ously because it is soteriologically important. And this strikes me as one of the
impressive virtues of ancient Christian thought, that it even presents a daring
modern challenge.
11 All this is well put in the Ambigua 41. There is no reason to doubt that Maximus teaches
universal deification of created being. It follows from the principles of his world-system.
12 For living in accordance with or discord with his logos or nature, cf. Ambigua 41 (PG 91,
1308c); Ambigua 10 (PG 91, 1164c-d). The terms Kara epumv and Ttapa cpuaiv occur rather
frequently.
Trasfondo escrituristico del nacimiento de Cristo en
los fragmentos de Pablo de Samosata
Gabino Uribarri, S.J., Madrid
1. Planteamiento
Dado el caracter muy firagmentario e interesado de nuestras noticias sobre la

teologia de Pablo de Samosata [PdS], una recomposicion completa y absoluta-
mente fidedigna de su teologia parece una quimera. Dando por buena la actual
tendencia a otorgar un credito amplio a los fragmentos1, parece obligado pre-
guntarse en que medida la exegesis jugo un cierto papel en su elaboracion teo-
logica2. Si bien el antecedente de Artemon3 y la carta de Himeneo o de los seis
obispos4 pueden servir de apoyo a favor de una presencia de la Escritura en las
disputas con PdS, algunas indicaciones suficientemente explicitas en los frag
mentos5 (fr. 5, 11, 13, 14, 17, 18-20, 25, 36)6 lo confirman, ademas de una
pista de Eusebio (HE V.30.10). En este trabajo me cenire a la posible inspira
cion escrituristica en los fragmentos de PdS del nacimiento de Cristo de Maria,
1 Cf. M. Simonetti, 'Per la rivalutazione di alcune testimonianze su Paolo di Samosata' RSLR

24 (1988), 177-210 (= id., Studi sulla cristologia del II e III secolo (Roma, 1993), 239-71);
'Paolo di Samosata e Malchione. Riesame di alcune testimonianze', en: Hestiasis. Studi di tarda
antichita offerti a Salvatore Calderone I Studi tardoantichi 1 (Messina, 1986), 7-25; Ch. Stead,
'Marcel Richard on Malchion and Paul of Samosata', en: Logos, Festschrift fur Luise Abra-
mowski zum 8. Juli 1993, hg. v. H.Ch. Brennecke, E.L. Grasmiick, Ch. Markschies, BZNW 67
(Berlin - New York, 1993), 140-50, que refutan a: M. Richard, 'Malchion et Paul de Samosate.
Le temoignage d'Eusebe de Cesaree' ETL 35 (1959), 325-38 (= Opera minora II, (Louvain,
1977), n° 25); R.M. Hiibner, 'Die Hauptquelle des Epiphanius (Panarion, haer. 68) iiber Paulus
von Samosata: Ps-Athanasius, Contra Sabellianos', ZKG 90 (1979), 201-20.
2 No ha sido un tema estrella en la investigaci6n: cf. L. Perrone, 'L'enigma di Paolo di Samo
sata. Dogma, chiesa e societa nella Siria del III secolo: prospettive di un ventennio di studi',
Cristianesimo nella Storia 13 (1992), 253-327.
3 Cf. Eusebio, HE VTI.30.16-17 y V.28.4; tb. HE V.28.13-15, 18-19.
4 Recogida en G. Bardy, Paul de Samosate. Etude historique (Louvain, 21929 (1923)), 13-19.
5 Cito segun H. de Riedmatten, Les actes du proces de Paul de Samosate. Etude sur la Chris-
tologie du III' au TV siecle, Paradosis 6 (Fribourg en Suisse, 1952), 135-58.
6 Por alusiones o lenguaje muy cercano a la Escritura se podrian sumar mas. P. ej., F. Scheid-
weiler, 'Paul von Samosata': ZNW 46 (1955), 116-29, 124 entiende que Hech 10,38 esta detras
del fr. 26. Pseudo-Atanasio, C. Ar. IV.30 (PG 26, 514D-516A) informa que PdS argumentaria
desde Hech 10,36 para distinguir al Logos de Jesus. No parece fidedigno Vicente de Lerins,
Commonitorium 25 (PL 50, 672), cf. G. Bardy, op. cit., 4; en contra de A. v. Harnack, Lehrbuch
der Dogmengeschichte. I. Die Entstehung des kirchlichen Dogmas (Tubingen, 51931), 727.
260 G. UrIbarri
un aspecto muy central en la teologia de PdS7, del que poseemos una cierta
cantidad de informacion y que, ademas, tambien ocupo a otros teologos de
orientacion 'monarquiana'8.
La logica obliga a pensar que no se podria discutir cual era la constitucion
de Cristo (fr. 29, 30, 36), del nacido de Maria, prescindiendo por completo de
las Escrituras. La oposicion de PdS a las tendencias exegeticas alejandrinas9 de
los origenistas y, mas en general, a los planteamientos de los teologos del
Logos descarta las posibilidades de que PdS se hubiera inspirado en el prologo
de Jn para elaborar su teologia del nacimiento y, derivadamente, de la encar-
nacion. Es mas, segun Epifanio10, quien recoge el documento homeousiano del
359, PdS habria practicado una exegesis del termino logos en este pasaje en el
sentido de considerarlo una mera palabra, de modo semejante a como hicieron
otros teologos de la corriente patripasiana", negandole toda substancialidad.
Por ello, nuestra investigacion se concentrara en Mt 1,18-23 y Lc 1,26-35.
2. Huellas de exegesis adopciana de Mt 1,18-23 y Lc 1,26-35
Inicialmente cabe sospechar que una exegesis adopciana de estos textos no

le habria de resultar diffcil a PdS. Toda la controversia en Antioquia, durante
cuatro afios, indica que realmente fue un hombre escurridizo. Los mismos tex
tos en cuanto tal se pueden prestar con una cierta pericia a una interpretacion
favorable a PdS. Indagare tanto si se da un rastro textual de estos textos bibli-
cos en los fragmentos, asi como si son congruentes con una inspiracion en su
logica general, interpretada de modo adopciano.
a) Mt 1,18-23
En Mt 1,18 se habla del origen (genesis; cf. fr. 10, 26, 29 y esp. 37) de Jesu-
cristo. En todo el pasaje mateano no hay ninguna alusion al Logos. Para PdS
es evidente que el Logos - ni la Sophia - no nacio de Maria, sino un hombre
(fr. 1,4, 13, 26). Y este hombre es Jesucristo (fr. 11, 18). Cristo y el Logos son
diferentes; no se les puede identificar (fr. 7, 19, 39). Mateo menciona el vien-
tre (gastri), que encontramos en fr. 34. Tambien apunta Mateo que Maria
7 Se refieren muy directamente a la cuesti6n: fr. 1, 3-4, 7, 10-11, 13, 15, 16-18, 21, 26, 29,
31, 34, 36, 37. En los demas fr. hay muchas alusiones a la cuesti6n teologica de fondo aqui impli-
cada.
8 Cf. p. ej„ Hipolito, C.Noet. 4M ; Refutatio 1XA2A7; Tertuliano, Adv. Prax. 26-27; Nova-
ciano, Trin. 24.135. En todos esta presente Lc 1,35.
9 F. Loofs, Paulus von Samosata. Eine Untersuchung zur altkirchlichen Literatur- und Dog-
mengeschichte, TU 44,5 (Leipzig, 1924), 202; G. Bardy, op. cit., 163.
10 Haeres. 73.12 (PG 42, 428 A-C), con referenda a Jn 1,1.
" Hipolito, C. Noet. 15.1 - 16.2; Tertuliano, /Wv. Prax. 7.5-9.
Trasfondo escrituristico del nacimiento de Cristo en Pablo de Samosata 261
estaba embarazada ek pneiimatos hagiou, una expresion tecnica que PdS repite
en varias ocasiones (fr. 5, 26, 37).
Mt 1,2012 dice que aquello que ha sido engendrado en ella, lo que nacera,
procede del Espfritu Santo, de nuevo con la expresion ek pneiimatos hagiou.
PdS estara conforme con una comprension literal de estas expresiones. Cristo
procede del Espfritu y esto se refleja en la especial inhabitation de la Sophia
en el, como en un templo (fr. 6, 9, 14, 39). Pero no nos dice el texto que nazca
la Sophia o el Logos o el Espfritu Santo. Sino un hijo engendrado gracias al
Espfritu Santo y, por lo tanto, singular en extrema medida, mas alia de cual-
quier otro personaje bfblico (fr. 6, 8, 9, 27, 31, 39). Mt 1,20 subraya la proce-
dencia davfdica de Jose. El fr. 37 recoge esa procedencia, si bien las expresio
nes lingufsticas no coinciden.
Mt 1,23 alude a la virgen (parthenos; fr. 36, 37), de nuevo al vientre (gas-
tri), a dar a luz (tekein; fr. 1,4, 11, 26) y al Enmanuel (fr. 17).
El aspecto mas diffcil de conciliar con una exegesis adopciona es la men
cion del Enmanuel. Seguramente por eso aparece en las actas del sfnodo en
claro reproche a PdS (fr. 17). El Enmanuel afirma la divinidad del que nace,
como la misma explicacion mateana indica: 'Dios con nosotros'; mientras que
PdS es renuente a concederla. Quiza PdS interpretaria el Enmanuel en el sen-
tido de una especial bendicion de Dios con el nacimiento de Jesus o algo
semejante. En cualquier caso, al no interconectar Mt 1,18-23 con el prologo de
Jn, PdS no vincula bien encarnacion y nacimiento. Al no hacerlo construye
una cristologfa no bien enlazada con la Trinidad, de lo que se siguen deficien-
cias notables en la primera.
En esta primera cala hemos podido advertir que los fr. tornados en su con-
junto reflejan un sedimento lingiifstico suficientemente amplio de expresiones
de Mt 1,18. 20. 23 (genesis, gaster, ek pneiimatos hagiou, parthenos, tekein,
enmanuel). Este aspecto, ya de por si significativo, unido a que la exegesis de
corte adopciano y desvinculada del prologo de Jn encaja muy bien con todo el
ductus de la teologfa del samosateno, induce a sospechar con mucha probabi-
lidad que el texto mateano estuvo presente en las discusiones sinodales y que
el samosateno habria realizado, bien por iniciativa propia o bien forzado a
explicarse ante Malcion, una exegesis literal del mismo como confirmacion,
aval y fuente de su cristologfa.
b)Lc 1,26-35
El texto de Lucas ha sido mucho mas importante en la controversia 'monar-
quiana' que el de Mateo, al menos para los patripasianos13. Mas todavfa, este
texto resulta importante para aquella derivacion del monarquianismo patripa
12 F. Loofs, op. cit., 254 y 251 encuentra huellas de este versiculo en PdS.
13 G. Uribarri, Monarquia y Trinidad. El concepto teologico 'monarchia' en la controversia
'monarquiana' (Madrid, 1996), 542 (fndice escrituristico).
262 G. UrIbarri
siano hacia formas mas semejantes al adopcionismo14. Su estudio nos ayudara

a una mejor comprension del transfondo exegetico de la teologia de PdS y a
ver en que medida ambas corrientes teologicas, patripasianos y adopcianos,
compartian una exegesis comun o una inspiracion en los mismos textos funda-
mentales.
Lc 1,26 habla de 'Nazaret'. En los fr. encontramos 'el nazareno' (fr. 26). Lc
1,27 menciona dos veces parthenos, referenda que ya hemos visto, y la casa
de David. Mas adelante, Lc 1,32, nombra 'el trono de David'. PdS no habla de
la casa de David ni de su trono, aunque si del engendrado de David (fr. 37) o
procedente de David (fr. 6, 8, 13, 25, 27, 37). Bastantes referencias a David
estan en conexion con la uncion15 (fr. 6, 8, 27), que quiza este ligada al bau-
tismo16 o al papel que pudo jugar Rm 1,3-4 (cf. esp. fr. 13) en las discusiones.
En Lc 1 ,3 1 encontramos de nuevo teketn y gastrl, que ya hemos comentado.
Lc 1,32 nos dice que el que nazca sera megas, tennino que aparece en los fr.
26 y 3817.
Lc 1,35 es el versfculo teologicamente mas denso. En el se da cuenta de una
manera mas expresa, dentro de esta pericopa, de la raz6n teologica de la sin
gular constitucion de Jesus, debido a la participacion singular del Espiritu
Santo y la fuerza del altisimo en el que va a ser engendrado. En PdS no hay
ninguna alusion a la dynamisis. Por otra parte, PdS concibe la actuacion del
Espiritu Santo mas bien con la formula mateana ek pneumatos hagiou. Sin
embargo, si esta presente de modo formal un cierto descenso de la Sophia (fr.
36), si bien afirmado por Malcion; y un reunirse del Logos (fr. 37), puesto casi
en paralelo con el Espiritu Santo, con el engendrado. Ahora bien, PdS parece
interpretar que esta suerte de reunion del Espiritu Santo (o del Logos o la So
phia) con el hombre que nace no es sustancial (fr. 14a, 14, 15, 22, 23, 24, 25,
29, 31, 33, 35, 36), sino una inhabitacion (fr. 8, 10, 14, 16, 25, 27, 31, 34; cf.
tb. fr. 6, 9, 39). Primero habria sido plasmado el hombre y, posteriormente, se
darfa una suerte de unidad entre este hombre y Dios (fr. 15, 34).
14 Para la problematica general, cf: Hip61ito, C. Noet. 3.1; Refutatio IX.11.3; DC.12.16-19;
X.27.4; Tertuliano, Prax. 1.6-7; 27-30; Origenes, Com Jn. 1I.16; Dial. Her. 4.4-9; Fragm Tit. D
(PG 14, 1304 D); Novaciano, Trin. 30.175 y tambien nuestra nota 22. Para mas detalles M.
Simonetti, 'II problema deU'unita di Dio a Roma da Clemente a Dionigi': RSLR 22 (1986), 439-
74, aqui 455-6 (= id., Studi sulla cristologia del 11 e III secolo, 183-215, aqui 197-9); G. Uriba-
rri, Monarquia y Trinidad, 294-7; 327-31; 369-71; 431-7; 501-4.
15 El fr. 26 trata de la uncion. sin mencionar a David.
16 H. de Riedmatten, op. cit., 33 sobre fr. 5. Sin embargo, en ninguna de las narraciones evan-
gelicas del bautismo hay alusion a la gracia. G. Bardy, op. cit., 458 niega que el bautismo haya
desempenado papel alguno.
17 F. Loofs, op. cit., 221 ve aqui una alusion a Lc 1,32. Entiende que Lc 1,35 esta detras de
muchas menciones de la Sophia, pues PdS identificaria Sophia y Espiritu Santo. Las alusiones
frecuentes a la inhabtiaci6n de la Sophia en Cristo serian una prueba. Disiente G. Bardy, op. cit.,
445. Independientemente de que Loofs tenga o no raz6n, Bardy presupone una interpretaci6n
ortodoxa de Lc 1,35, lo cual desautoriza sus argumentos.
18 Cf. M. Simonetti, Rivalutazione, 208.
Trasfondo escrituristico del nacimiento de Cristo en Pablo de Samosata 263
Finalmente, Lc 1 ,35 concluye diciendo que el va a ser engendrado de esta

forma sera llamado 'Hijo de Dios\ Este aspecto, con el que mas claramente se
afirma la divinidad del que nacera en el pasaje lucano, jugo un papel en la dis-
puta. Los fr. 21, 22, 25, 36 emplean la expresion 'hijo de Dios', pero siempre
esta en boca de los adversarios de Pablo o explfcitamente de Malcion (fr. 21,
22, 36). De lo que se deduce la negativa de PdS a interpretarlo en la linea del
reconocimiento de la doble filiacion de Jesus, humana y divina. Segun PdS un
nacimiento de la Sophia de Maria implicaria dos hijos, cosa que le parece una
aberracion (fr. 17, 32; cf. tb. fr. 3, 26).
El reflejo lingufstico del pasaje lucano en los fragmentos no es tan evidente
como en el caso del mateano, aunque no sea nada despreciable (nazareno,
parthenos, David, tekein, gastri, megas, hijo de Dios). Unido a ello, la tema-
tica y la proximidad de los temas teologicos disputados permiten sospechar
con gran fuerza que este pasaje debio de ser discutido al menos entre Malcion
y PdS, lo cual logicamente forzaria a PdS a una interpretacion adopciana del
mismo. Para PdS se da una relacion especial de Cristo, el nacido de Maria, con
la Sophia (y/o el Logos). Literalmente considerado en Lc no se dice que el
Logos o la Sophia nazcan de Maria; sino que el Espiritu descendera sobre ella
y la fuerza del altisimo la curbira con su sombra. Las expresiones mas claras
en favor de la divinidad de Cristo fueron, pues, atenuadas por PdS o entendi-
das de un modo insuficiente para sus adversarios: como inhabitacion en lugar
de como union substancial.
3. Conclusiones
A partir de estas indagaciones podemos extraer una serie de conclusiones,

siempre con cautelas, dada la precariedad de nuestra informacion sobre PdS.
1. Inicialmente hemos partido de la presencia de la exegesis en el debate con
PdS y, logicamente, tambien en su teologfa. Los estudiosos de PdS no se han
fijado hasta ahora en exceso en este aspecto. Pero una cala en Mt 1,18-23 y Lc
1,26-35 nos ha permitido comprobar la alta probabilidad de que la interpreta
cion de estos textos y los temas teologicos de fondo que proponen formaran
parte fundamental del debate con PdS; mas en concreto podemos aventurar
que forman el transfondo escrituristico de la concepcion samosatena del naci
miento de Cristo o, por lo menos, de la discusidn sinodal con PdS al respecto.
Resulta dificil pensar en una disputa teologica de altura en esta epoca sin refe-
rencias a la Escritura. La literatura teologica de la epoca lo confirma. Las
pocas alusiones de Malcion tambien. La carta de los seis obispos indica el
mismo modo de proceder. Asi, pues, queda fuertemente insinuado que la exe
gesis tuvo un peso significativo en el transcurso de las discusiones sinodales.
Aqui se abre, entonces, una nueva veta para profundizar en el estudio de la
teologfa de PdS.
264 G. UrIbarri
2. Es posible, tambien, que en el terreno de la interpretacion de la Escritura

PdS consiguiera defenderse bastante bien, subrayando una y otra vez lo que el
texto decia y su modo de entenderlo en consonancia con la literalidad del
mismo. Parece probable que la discusion no avanzara mucho en este ambito.
3. La consideracion de Mt 1,18-23 y de Lc 1,26-35 nos ha permitido cons-
tatar la interconexion de bastantes de los diferentes temas de la teologia de
PdS recogidos por los fragmentos. Asi, se pone de manifiesto la centralidad
del nacimiento de Cristo en la teologia de PdS : quien, con que constitucion o
que nacio de Maria. En la teologia de PdS se supone un sujeto redentor des-
provisto de una divinidad sustancial, producto, entre otras cosas, de su nega-
tiva a leer conjuntamente el relato del nacimiento de los sinopticos con Jn 1 19.
Esto conduce a resaltar el autentico sujeto humano de la redencion, pero pone
en cuestion su divinidad, al rechazar una teologia de la encarnacion en todo su
peso y significado. La cristologia adopciana adolece de una buena teologia tri-
nitaria20. Ciertamente no refleja una teologia trinitaria modalista, que le acer-
caria a los patripasianos y pondria mayor enfasis en la divinidad de Cristo21.
4. El estudio de estos pasajes de la Escritura pone de relieve una exegesis
muy diferente de los mismos entre los patripasianos y los adopcianos. Incluso
Lc 1,35, que esta detras del deslizamiento de posiciones patripasianas hacia
una cierta mezcla con el adopcionismo, como es el caso por ejemplo de Berilo
de Bostra y de Heraclides22, ha dejado un resto de un manejo muy diverso por
parte de PdS. Pues el samosateno, a pesar de todo, no llegaba realmente a
admitir un compuesto en Jesucristo (fr. 17, 22, 15, 36), con un elemento
humano y otro divino, ni reparte la pasion entre estos elementos. Si en el
monoteismo estricto patripasianos y adopcianos coinciden fundamentalmente,
al menos en la consideracion del nacimiento - y, derivadamente, de la encar
nacion -, de Cristo barajan motivos teologicos dispares.
19 Esto no pertenece necesariamente a la escuela antioquena; cf. Ignacio de Antioqufa, Magn.

8.2 en conexion con Smyrn. 1.1.
20 Mas detalles en G. Uribarri, 'Tertullian als Kirchenvater? Geschichtliche und dogmatische
Erwagungen zum ekklesialen trinitarischen Monotheismus', en: J. Arnold, R. Berndt, R. Stamm-
berger (Hg.), Vater der Kirche: Ekklesiales Denken von den Anfdngen bis in die friihe Neuzeit,
Festgabe fur Hermann Josef Sieben SJ zum 70. Geburtstag (Paderborn, 2004), 63-93, esp. 81-7.
21 Contra A. v. Harnack, op. cit., 724, nota 2.
22 Para Berilo de Bostra, cf. Eusebio, HE VI.33.1; para Heraclides, Origenes, Dial. Her. 1-2
(SCh 67, 53-8). Para un analisis: G. Uribarri, Monarquia y Trinidad, esp. 327-31 y 337-71.
Sozomen's Chapter on the Finding of the True Cross
(HE 2.1) and His Historical Method
Peter Van Nuffelen, Leuven / Exeter
In the first chapter of his second book, the church historian Sozomen (+/-
400-450) relates how Helena (d. c. 337), the mother of Constantine, found the
Holy Cross in Jerusalem. The sources of this chapter have often been dis
cussed1 and can be fairly well determined. The historian copies most of his
information from the Vita Constantini of Eusebius (c. 337)2, but also takes
some elements of his predecessors Socrates (c. 439)3 and Rufinus (c. 404)4. He
adds as well some references to the Gospel of John5.
None of these authors is explicitly mentioned by Sozomen, but he does
discuss an additional source - the Legend of Judas Cyriacus, which probably
originated in Jerusalem at the beginning of the fifth century. While explain
ing how the exact burial place of the cross was found, the church historian
says,
Some say that the facts were first disclosed by a Hebrew who dwelt in the East, and
who derived his information from some documents which had come to him by pater
nal inheritance. But it seems more reasonable to suppose that God revealed the fact by
means of signs and dreams, for I do not think that human information is requisite when
God thinks it best to make manifest the same'6.
In the legend of Judas Cyriacus, the Jew Judas does indeed play a leading role
in finding the burial site of the cross. His family kept its exact location a
secret, and at the demand of Helena Judas disclosed it. The only difference
from the known versions of the legend is that the church historian claims that
1 S. Borgehammar, How the Holy Cross was Found. From Event to Medieval Legend, Bib-
liotheca theologiae practicae 47 (Stockholm, 1991), pp. 23-24, 147; Luce Pietri, Constantin etlou
Helene, promoteurs des travaux entrepris sur le Golgotha: les comptes rendus des historiens
ecclesiastiques grecs du Ve siecle, in B. Pouderon and Y.-M. Duval (eds), L'historiographie de
l'eglise des premiers siecles, Theologie historique 114 (Paris, 2001), pp. 371-80, with additional
literature.
2 Eusebius, Vita Constantini 3.25-29.
3 Socrates 1.17.
4 Rufinus, HE 10.7.
5 John 19: 19, 19:32. The sources of this chapter are analysed in the apparatus of J. Bidez and
G.C. Hansen, Sozomenos. Kirchengeschichte, GCS NF 4 (19952), pp. 47-50.
6 Sozomen 2.1.4. Tr. CD. Hartrauft.
266 P. Van Nuffelen
the location of the Cross was passed on by documents, whereas the Legend
itself mentions oral transmission7.
Sozomen knows the legend but dismisses it, not because it is a Jew who finds
the cross, but because it is a human being. For the church historian, whose pages
abound with miracles, it was inconceivable that one of the major events of his
history should be due to mere human action and not to divine help.
Notwithstanding his rebuttal of the main theme of the legend, Sozomen
culls two more pieces of information from it. After having recounted how the
true Cross was identified among the three in the grave by the fact that it healed
a mortally sick woman, he writes, 'It is said that a dead person was, in the
same way, restored to life'8. None of the known sources of Sozomen tells this
story, except the Legend of Judas Cyriacus9.
The other detail Sozomen copied from the legend was the reference to the
prophecy of Zechariah (14:20): 'that which shall be upon the bit of the horse
shall be holy to the Lord Almighty'. The church historian recounts how Con-
stantine had a bit for a horse made from the nails found together with the
Cross and then adds the reference to the prophecy. Confirmation of the fact
that a bit was made can be found in Rufinus or Socrates10, but neither of those
mention the prophecy of Zechariah in relation to it. The legend of Judas Cyri
acus, however, does11. The only church historians who know of this prophecy
are Theodoret (c. 399-466) and Pseudo-Gelasius of Cyzicus (last quarter of the
fifth century), of whom the first copied Sozomen while the second copied
Theodoret12. As only one identifiable source of Sozomen, the Legend ofJudas
7 But see Jud. Cyr. Syr., CSCO 565, p. 63/62, where Cyriacus says Helena should look into
'the official acts' or for 'written records' for the location of the Cross. Perhaps Sozomen misun
derstood this passage. He may even have invented these documents (see infra for Sozomen's reg
ular invention of sources).
8 Sozomen 2.1.8.
9 Cf. Jud.Cyr.Lat. 14 (Borgehammer, p. 271); Jud. Cyr. Syr., CSCO 565, p. 66/7. The depen-
dance was suggested by Bidez and Hansen, p. 49. At p. 532, however, the editors only refer to
the explicit refutation in 2.1.4. Admittedly, Paulinus of Nola (Epistula 31.5) and Sulpicius
Severus (chronica 2.34) mention that a dead man was resurrected by the Cross, but none of these
texts was known to Sozomen.
10 Rufinus, HE 10.8 (p. 970.22); Socrates 1.17.9.
11 Cf. Jud. Cyr. Lat. 14 (Borgehammer, p. 271); Jud. Cyr. Syr. CSCO 565, p. 70/1.
12 Theodoret, HE 1.18.5 = Ps.-Gelasius of Cyzicus 3.7.8. The dependence of Theodoret on
Sozomen has recently been questioned (T.D. Barnes, Athanasius and Constantius. Theology and
Politics in the Constantinian Empire (Cambridge, Mass., 1993), p. 209; Annik Martin, 'L'origine
de l'arianisme vue par Theodoret', in B. Pouderon and Y.-M. Duval (eds), L'historiographie de
l'eglise des premiers siecles, Theologie historique 114, (Paris, 2001), pp. 349-59, at p. 349 n. 1).
But see the discussion of the parallels by L. Parmentier (L. Parmentier and G.C. Hansen,
Theodoret. Kirchengeschichte, GCS NF 5 (Berlin, 19983), p. lxxiv: 'GewiB liegt es mir fern zu
leugnen, da6 Theodoret Socrates und Sozomen gekannt hat'), and more recently by G. Lazzati.
Ambrosius Episcopus, Studia patristica mediolanensia 6-7 (Milan, 1976), p. 360; G.C. Hansen,
Sokrates. Kirchengeschichte, GCS NF 1 (Berlin, 1995), p. xxxv; N. Lenski, 'Were Valentinian,
Valens and Jovian Confessors before Julian the Apostate?', ZAC 6 (2002), 253-76, at p. 265.
Sozomen's Chapter on the Finding of the True Cross (HE 2.1) 267
Cyriacus, does mention the prophecy13, it is most likely that his reference to
the prophecy should be attributed to this source.
The identification of the Legend ofJudas Cyriacus as the source for the res
urrection story and the prophecy of Zechariah has eliminated all uncertainties
concerning the sources of the chapter we are discussing. Every piece of infor
mation can be traced to Eusebius, Rufinus, Socrates, the Gospel of John, or the
Legend. This fact allows us to reconsider the historical method of Sozomen.
Before doing so, a brief remark on the Legend of Judas Cyriacus.
It has been maintained that Sozomen knew only an oral version of the leg
end14. The explicit refutation could indeed be explained by oral sources, as
Sozomen only comments upon the general theme of the legend. But oral
sources can hardly account for all three parallels in Sozomen. In particular,
biblical quotations are not the strength of oral traditions. Moreover, the three
parallels, which represent the general subject of the legend, a miracle from its
second half, and a biblical quotation from the very end, suggest that Sozomen
knew a full version of it, as we know it from the earliest Syriac and Latin ver
sions, and not an intermediary state, as some assert15. This shows that as early
as the forties of the fifth century, when Sozomen was writing his Church His
tory, a full written version of the Judas Cyriacus Legend was in circulation16.
The chapter on the finding of the true Cross is not only very instructive for
the development of the Legend of Judas Cyriacus, but also for the historical
method used by Sozomen. By 'historical method' I am referring to the way an
historian adapts his sources. I will comment on two aspects - Sozomen's use
of the technique of accumulation and his invention of oral sources.
Although the church historian explicitly denies the value of the Judas Cyri
acus legend, he culls another miracle and a prophecy from it. The legend may
be untrustworthy concerning its main point in his eyes, but is still good enough
for use as a source of miracles. This technique of accumulation of sources,
without consideration of their historical truth, can be found in many other
chapters of the Church History. For example, Sozomen's story of the
attempted reconstruction of the Temple of Jerusalem by the Jews in 363 draws
elements from Rufinus, Socrates, Gregory Nazianzen, and John Chrysostom17.
13 Ambrosius (c. 339-397), a generation older than Sozomen, also mentions the prophecy (De
Obitu Theodosii 40), but there is no proof that this work was known to Sozomen.
14 E.g., E.D. Hunt, Holy Land Pilgrimage in the Later Roman Empire AD 312-460 (Oxford,
1982), p. 45; S. Heid, 'Zur friihen Protonike- und Kyriakos Legende', in AB 109 (1991), 73-108,
at p. 99; Borgehammar, p. 147; H.J.W Drijvers and J.W. Drijvers, The Finding of the True
Cross. The Judas Cyriacus Legend in Syriac, CSCO 565; Subs. 93 (Leuven, 1997), p. 20. They
do not seem to discuss the two additional parallels between Sozomen and the Legend.
15 As stated by J.-L. Feiertag, 'A propos du role des Juifs dans les traditions sous-jacentes aux
recits de l'invention de la croix', AB 1 18 (2000), pp. 241-65 at pp. 263-4.
16 Cf. Drijvers and Drijvers, pp. 20-2.
17 Sozomen 5.22.
268 P. Van Nuffelen
As a consequence, his version overbids his predecessors' in terms of dramatic

tone and miraculous outcome18. This is just one of the more prominent exam
ples of what is a major characteristic of Sozomen's historical method: he accu
mulates elements from different sources, often with the aim of underscoring
the miraculous aspect of the events19. Even untrustworthy sources, such as the
Legend of Judas Cyriacus, are useful in this respect.
The identification of the Legend ofJudas Cyriacus as the source for the res
urrection story and the prophecy of Zzchariah has allowed us to retrace every
piece of information Sozomen gives in Historia Ecclesiastica 2.1 to literary
sources. This fact conflicts, however, with Sozomen's declaration at the end of
the chapter.
The above incidents we have related precisely as they were delivered to us by men of
great accuracy, by whom the information was derived by succession from father to
son, and by others who have recorded the same events in writing for the benefit of pos
terity'20.
Sozomen claims to have had recourse to oral sources and written narratives.
Since the whole of the chapter is based upon literary sources, there seems to
be no reason why the church historian should refer to oral sources. How are
we to interpret this 'information derived by succession from father to son'?
Some accept this sentence at face value and explain it as a reference to 'sto
ries in popular circulation'. According to this interpretation, the reference to
the resurrection of the dead man should be attributed to these popular stories21.
As we have seen, Sozomen copied this event from a written version of the
Legend ofJudas Cyriacus, so there is nothing left to be attributed to these pop
ular, oral stories.
According to other scholars, the statement reflects a passage from the Leg
end which tells how the family of Judas Cyriacus transmitted from father to
son the secret about the true Cross22. This is not impossible, but it would only
make the situation worse. If this interpretation is correct, Sozomen has trans
formed the Legend, a written source, into an oral one, and he now claims it to
be a source of credible information although he had dismissed it a few sen
tences before as untrustworthy.
Although the foregoing interpretation cannot be ruled out, there is yet another
possibility, which we consider the most likely solution: Sozomen's reference to
oral sources in addition to written sources is a pure invention. To make this plau
18 Sozomen mentions, for example, that the earthquake killed many people (Sozomen 5.22.8),
something that Socrates does not say (Socrates 3.20).
19 Compare, e.g., Sozomen 6.16 and Gregory Nazianzen, Oratio 53.48, 51-55; Socrates
4.26.17-19.
21 Hunt, p. 46.
22 Jud. Cyr. Syr., CSCO 565, p. 61. See Borgehammar, p. 147.
sible, I will first make some remarks on Sozomen's actual practice in his Church
History, before turning to his theoretical statements in the preface.
Parallels can be found in Sozomen's Church History for the invention of
oral sources. At the end of his story of the attempted reconstruction of the
Temple of Jerusalem (363), he writes,
If anyone does not feel disposed to believe my narrative, let him go and be convinced
by those who heard the facts I have related from the eyewitnesses of them, for they are
still alive. Let him inquire, also, of the Jews and pagans who left the work in an incom
plete state, or who, to speak more accurately, were not even able to commence it'23.
In this case, Sozomen does not exactly say that he used oral sources - which
would be false, because the whole passage is based on literary texts - but he still
pretends that witnesses to the testimony of actual eyewitnesses can be found, a
fact which is most improbable. The message of this statement is clear: Sozomen
suggests that his information, although not based on oral sources, will be proven
right if checked against what eyewitnesses of the event would tell.
In chapter 14 of his first book, Sozomen remarks during his discussion of
the monks of Egypt:
Many extraordinary events happened to him [Amoun], which have been accurately
fixed by the Egyptian monks, who did very much to commemorate carefully the
virtues of the more ancient ascetics, preserved in a succession of unwritten tradition. I
will relate such of them as have come to our knowledge'24.
It may have been unwritten tradition in origin, but the next sentences are sim
ply taken from the Life of Antony, and the whole chapter depends upon
Socrates, the Historia Lausiaca, and the Historia Monachorum25.
These examples suggest that Sozomen is consciously downplaying his
dependence on literary sources and is inventing oral sources.
Another element reinforces this conclusion: the church historian rarely
refers explicitly to literary sources. Of his predecessors, he refers twice to the
Church History of Eusebius - the first time as a direct witness for the version
Constantine told him of the vision of the Cross at the Milvian Bridge (312),
the second time for the statue of Christ in Paneas (Palestine) and its destruc
tion in the third century26. Through Eusebius, he quotes De Vita Contempla
tive! of Philo. Once he quotes Libanius27. He refers to several writings of
church fathers, such as Apollinarius, Eustathius of Antioch, Athanasius,
George of Laodicea, Basil the Great, and Ephrem, mentioning them however
not as a source but simply to show that he is well informed about their literary
23 Sozomen 5.22.14.
24 Sozomen 1.14.4.
25 Bidez and Hansen, pp. 30-2.
26 Sozomen 1.3.2; 5.21.3.
27 Philo: Sozomen 1.12.10-11; Libanius: Sozomen 6.1.15.
270 P. Van Nuffelen
activities28. To these, six indefinite references to written sources must be added29.

For a work of some 400 pages, this is a rather small number. We know, more
over, that Sozomen's history was mainly based upon the works of his predeces
sors, in the first place Socrates and Rufinus, and upon other written sources30.
A very strong contrast can consequently be observed between what Sozomen
claims to be doing (writing a history based mainly upon oral sources) and what
he is really doing (writing a history based mainly upon written narratives).
The contrast becomes especially clear in his preface, where Sozomen
espouses his source theory. He writes,
I shall record the transactions with which I have been connected, and also those concern
ing which I have heard from persons who knew or saw the affairs in our own day or before
our own generation. But I have sought for records of events of earlier date, amongst the
established laws appertaining to religion, amongst the proceedings of the synods of the
period, amongst the innovations that arose, and in the epistles of emperors and priests'31.
Sozomen distinguishes between his own time and 'events of an earlier date'.
He pretends to have written the history of his own time based entirely upon
autopsy and eyewitnesses. The earlier events are, so Sozomen says, based
upon written sources, but not upon literary ones: letters, laws, acts of synods -
these are the documents Sozomen purports to have used.
We can easily show that this statement cannot be true. The last book, cov
ering the years 408 to 439 (the period Sozomen lived), is, with the exception
of the first three chapters and the final one (9.1-3, 9.16), a simple adaptation of
the classicizing history of Olympiodorus. For the earlier events, Sozomen did
use laws, acts of synods, and documents, but only occasionally: his main
sources are the historians who preceded him32.
The clue to the understanding of the preface is classical source theory.
Sozomen pretends to have used precisely those sources that source theory con
sidered the best. He claims to do for his own time what was expected from a
classical historian. In classical source theory, the best source was autopsy, and
second best were eyewitnesses33. These sources were preferable because of
their direct relation to the events. For the earlier period, Sozomen's pretence of
28 Apollinarius: Sozomen 2.17.2-3 = Apollinarius, fr. 168 (Lietzmann); Eustathius: Sozomen

2.19.7; Athanasius: Sozomen 2.30.1-5; George: Sozomen 3.6.6; Basil: Sozomen 3.14; Ephrem:
Sozomen 3.16.2, 9.
29 Sozomen 1.14.11; 2.1.11; 1.14.3; 3.14.42; 3.15.6; 3.15.9-10.
30 See Bide?, and Hansen, pp. xliv-xlv.
32 See G. Schoo, Die Quellen des Kirchenhistorikers Sozomenos, Neue Studien zur
Geschichte der Theologie und der Kirche 11 (Berlin, 1911); Bidez and Hansen, pp. xliv-lxiv.
33 See G. Schepens, L'autopsie dans la methode des historiens grecs du Ve siicle avantJ.-C.,
Verhandelingen van de Koninklijke academie voor wetenschappen, letteren en schone kunsten
van Belgie, Klasse der letteren 93 (Brussels, 1980); J. Marincola, Authority and Tradition in
Ancient Historiography (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 63-86.
relying upon documents reflects a Christian addition to source theory. It has

often been observed that documents play an important role in church histories
and that they are often quoted in extenso34. Church historians considered doc
uments to be immediate witnesses of the events. While classical historians did
not share this attitude to documents, which they considered mediate, church
historians value documents for the same reason they set such store by autopsy
and eyewitness reports : they give immediate access to past events35.
The foregoing remarks explain why Sozomen claims throughout his work to
rely on documents, eyewitnesses, and oral sources and why he tries to obliter
ate his use of narrative sources. He is pretending to have written a history
based upon the best sources according to historiographical source theory:
autopsy and eyewitnesses for his own time, and documents for the earlier
period. One can consider this pretence as an attempt of mimesis of the great
classical historians. This is partly true. But the extent of the pretence suggests
that more is at stake. By using the historical method as a rhetorical tool,
Sozomen claims to offer the most truthful account of the past and to give an
exact description of how orthodox Christianity conquered the world - the
theme he announces in the preface36.
Our interpretation of Sozomen's historical method contrasts with what has
previously been written on the subject. The church historian is often praised,
on the one hand, for his, from a methodological point of view, excellent theo
retical statements in the preface37 and, on the other, for his actual practice,
characterized by the correction of Socrates and by consulting additional docu
ments and sources38. In our opinion, this praise must be seriously qualified.
His theoretical statements are mainly rhetoric, while his actual practice is more
interested in underscoring the miraculous than in finding out the truth.
34 See e.g. H. Leppin, Von Constantin dem Grossen zu Theodosius II. Das christliche Kaiser-
tum bei den Kirchenhistorikern Socrates, Sozomenos und Theodoret, Hypomnemata 1 10 (Gottin-
gen, 1996), pp. 37-8; Averil Cameron, 'Education and Literary Culture', in Averil Cameron and
P. Gamsey (eds), The Cambridge Ancient History. Vol. 13: The Late Empire, A.D. 337-425
(Cambridge, 1998), pp. 665-707, at p. 668.
35 Eusebius, HE 8.10.1; Sozomen 1.1.14; Theodoret, HE 1.3.4; John of Ephesus, HE 1.30
(CSCO 106, p. 28.24-28); Evagrius Scholasticus, HE 4.11 (p. 161.10-14), 6.24 (ed. J. Bidez and
L. Parmentier); Ps.-Zacharias, HE 2.pr (CSCO 87, pp. 72-3). Cf. Pseudo-Gelasius of Cyzicus
1.11.21.
36 Sozomen 1.1.11.
37 Schoo, pp. 11, 90-4; D. Rohrbacher, The Historians of Late Antiquity (London, 2002),
p. 122.
38 G. Sabbah and B. Grillet (ed. and tr.), Sozomine. Histoire Ecclesiastique. Livre I-II, SC
306 (Paris, 1983), pp. 74-5; P. Heather, 'The Crossing of the Danube and the Gothic Conver
sion', GRBS 27 (1986), pp. 289-318, at pp. 300-3; Jill Harries, 'Sozomen and Eusebius: The
Lawyer as Church Historian in the Fifth Century', in C. Holdsworth and T.P. Wiseman (eds), The
Inheritance of Historiography 350-900, Exeter Studies in History 12 (Exeter, 1986), pp. 45-52,
at p. 51; A. KapnoîA.0<;, BuCavnvoi iaxopiKOt km xpovoypaxpot. Vol. I: 4oc.-7oc, ai. (Athens,
1997), pp. 155-6; Rohrbacher, pp. 122-3.
Serapion of Thmuis: Between Origen and Athanasius
Maxine West, London
Serapion's Adversus Manichaeos1 contains a number of interesting features

which suggest that, whilst he is a contemporary of Athanasius, the author's
theological thinking is, in some respects, similar to his, and, in others, bears
comparison with the works of Origen. This paper takes as examples to demon
strate this the author's view of sin and that of the status and nature of the Son.
Although Serapion speaks much more of vice (Kaida) than he does of sin,
there is nevertheless sufficient material in Adversus Manichaeos to gain a pic
ture of his understanding of the latter, material which also provides a good
comparison with the thought of Origen and Athanasius. In his refutation of
what he sees as the Manichaean opinion that human beings are either of good
or evil nature, Serapion mentions the 'company of the apostles' which he sees
as composed 'from sinners (duapxcoXcov) and unholy men (Pepf|taov), and
from men who had stumbled (tnxaiKoxdiv) many times of old and were no
longer fallen (a4>aA,eVxcov)' (15.1-3), suggesting that he considers sin a matter
of falling or slipping. The way in which Serapion recounts the story of the
Prodigal Son gives further indication of the sort of thing he is thinking of when
he uses these terms, for it shows the sequence of the son's slipping into sin:
first he is 'negligent (f>aGuuf|aa<;) towards his father', then leaving his father
behind, he devotes himself to 'passion' and 'wastefulness' (13.5-7). Yet fur
ther insight is gained from his description of Peter who, after having been
rebuked by Jesus, recovers from the sin of his denial: 'and his stumbling
(rcxata|xa) was cured by his improvement . . . and his yvcbur| took hold of the
cure (GepaTteicu;); and he was great (ueyai;) and godly (Geio<;)' (23.14-16),
for here it is clear that he regards sin as some sort of sickness, with the cure
restoring the person to health. What the nature of the healthy state is is also
elucidated, for the cured Peter is described as ueyai; and Geio<;, Geioi; also
being one of the terms used to describe the restored Prodigal Son, the other
being A,oyiKO<; (13.10-11). Such language demonstrates that the author does
not consider sin to be an automatic result of being human: the normal state for
a human being, not just as originally created, but as he or she is now, is to be
ueyai;, A,oyiKO<;, and Geto<;; so Serapion does not see the tendency to sin as
inherited.
1 For Greek text with introduction and textual variants, see R.P. Casey, Serapion of Thmuis
Against the Manichees, Harvard Theological Studies 15 (Cambridge, MA, 1931).
274 M. West
This view of sin as a sickness from which a person can recover also appears
as part of the argument to prove that demons are created, where the 'place of
punishment' is described in general terms as 'made as a medicine and remedy
for those who have sinned', with 'the whips' being 'holy', a 'medicine for
those who have sinned', and 'the blows' also being 'holy', 'remedies for those
who fell' (30.1-5). This account envisages punishment as real and painful, but
not as eternal, and ascribes to it the purpose of reforming and restoring to
health those experiencing it, thereby suggesting a doctrine of continuing devel
opment after death.
Much of what has been said, is reminiscent of Origen, who says of the fall
of a great man, 'It is not a complete collapse, but he can retrace his steps and
return ad statum suum (to his former or original state), re-establishing that
which had been lost through negligence'2, indicating that a fall is caused by
negligence, and not by inherent sinfulness, and that restoration to what a per
son was formerly/originally is possible. Elsewhere he speaks of sin as a failure
to be reasonable3 and as something requiring a remedy or cure4, with part of
the healing process being experienced in the life to come5. Athanasius, on the
other hand, generally understands sin to have been inherent in the human con
dition after Adam's fall6, seeing the consequences of his sin as men being
'pulled towards natural corruption' (el<; xf|v Korea cJ>uaiv cj>Gopav £Kpa-
xoCvxo)7, but that this state was changed by the incarnation: 'But now the
Word having become man and having appropriated the things of the flesh, no
longer do these things touch the body... but they are abolished by him, and
henceforth men no longer remain sinners and dead according to the passions
proper to them, but having risen according to the Word's power, they remain
ever immortal and incorruptible'8. Although he mentions eternal punishment9,
he does not discuss it at length, and there is no evidence that he envisaged the
time after death as remedial. It would appear, then, that, in his view of sin, Ser-
apion is much closer to Origen than to Athanasius: but what of his under
standing of the nature and status of God the Son?
2 De Principis 1.3.8, ed. H. Crouzel and M. Simonetti, SC 252 (Paris, 1978), p. 164: my
translation.
3 De Principis 1.5.2 (p. 177); see also the Greek fragment of 1.8.4, 'Now passion in a human
soul is a likeness to the irrational' (tr. G.W. Butterworth (London, 1936), p. 73, from Gregory of
Nyssa, De Hom. Opificio 28). All future quotations of the Greek of De Principiis are from
Butterworth's translation.
4 See, for example, De Principis 3.1.17 SC 268 (Paris, 1980), pp. 100 and 102.
5 See, for example, De Principis 2.10.3 (Greek: p. 146, from (Leont. Byz.), De Sectis, Act.
10.6 ) and 3.1.13 (Greek: p. 182, Philokalia 21).
6 In The Life of Antony 20.7, however, Athanasius (if he is in fact the author) speaks of the
natural state as good: 'The soul's being straight is for its intellectual part (voepov) to be natural
as it was created'. Ed. G.J.M. Bartelink, SC 400 (Paris, 1994), p. 190: my translation.
7 De Incarnatione 7, ed. R.W. Thomson (Oxford, 1971), p. 150: my translation.
8 Against the Arians 3.33, ed. W. Bright (Oxford, 1884), p. 187: my translation.
9 De Incarnatione 56 (Thomson, p. 274).
Serapion of Thmuis: Between Origen and Athanasius 275
Unlike both Origen and Athanasius, Serapion makes very restricted use of
the terms Word or Christ; instead, 'Son' is the most common title, found fre
quently in a section of the work aimed at showing the similarity of law and
gospel. Quotations from scripture are used to demonstrate this, but they are
introduced by comments relating to the nature and status of the Son: 'there
was an offspring (yevvnua) and an offspring from the bosom and a Son of the
one who begot him' (48.15-16; Ps. 109:3 LXX, Jn 1:18), 'and the Son is pro
claimed legitimate (yvf|aio<;), like to the one who begot him' (48.20-21; Mt.
3: 17, Ps. 2:7), and finally 'there is a proclamation from the Father to the godly
powers to serve the Son and give reverence and obeisance to him' (48.27-29;
Deut. 32:43 LXX, Heb. 1:6). In addition, the quotations themselves indicate
that the Son was begotten 'before the morning star' and is 'the only-begotten
God' (48.17-18, quoting Ps. 109:3 LXX and Jn 1:18). Elsewhere scripture is
again used to establish that the Son alone 'perceives and expounds' 'what the
Father plans' (40.43-44; Jn 1:18) and that he is 'like begotten of like ... the
image of the one who begot him', having 'as great things' as the Father
(39.28-30; Heb. 1:3 and Jn 14:9), and to show that he is 'the exact expression'
(xapaKxr|p) and 'radiance' (39.29; Heb. 1:3), that he knows the Father
(39.30-32; Jn 17:25), and that he has been sent and promised by God, the texts
cited themselves naming him 'prophet' and 'angel of the great will' (40.75-79;
Deut. 18:15, Isa. 9:6 LXX). These statements serve to demonstrate that the
language of begetting is that by which Serapion primarily conceives of the sta
tus of the Son and of his relationship with the Father, the Son's ability to know
the Father's will being integral to this.
Such an account of the relationship of Father and Son is resonant of the
debate with Arian theology, Athanasius describing the Son in Against the Ari
ans as 'ever the proper offspring of the Father's substance'10, and the texts
Serapion uses to establish the Son's generation from the Father - Psalm 109:3
LXX, John 1 : 18, Matthew 3:7, and Psalm 2:7 LXX - being those key to this
debate11. Similarly, statements resembling those he makes about the likeness
of the Son to the Father, and his use of Hebrews 1:3, Isaiah 9:6 LXX, and
Deuteronomy 18:15 can also be found in anti-Arian works12. In addition,
whether or not the Son had knowledge of the Father and what his position was
10 Against the Arians 1.29 (Bright, p. 31): my translation.

11 Ps. 109:3 LXX, for example, is quoted by Alexander of Alexandria (Letter to Alexander of
Thessalonica 34, tr. W.G. Rusch, The Trinitarian Controversy (Philadelphia, 1980), p. 39),
Athanasius (Defence of the Nicene Definition, 13 and 21 (PG 25, 437D and 453B)), and Arms
(Letter to Alexander of Alexandria, in Athanasius, Councils of Ariminum and Seleucia 16 (PG
26, 709C).
12 For Heb. 1:3 see Alexander of Alexandria, Letter to Alexander of Thessalonica 27 (tr.
Rusch, p. 38) and Athanasius, Against the Arians 1.40; 1.61; 2.23 et al. (Bright, pp. 42, 64, and
92); for Isa. 9:6 LXX and Deut. 18:15, see Against the Arians 3.12, 3.63, and 1.54 (Bright,
pp. 166, 217, and 57).
276 M. West
with regard to the Father's will were also matters argued about in this debate13.
These correspondences suggest strongly that Against the Manichees reflects
the debate with Arian theology and that its author draws roughly the same
inferences from the texts cited as does Athanasius. It should be noted, how
ever, that, although Serapion uses ouaia freely elsewhere, he never links the
Son's begottenness to the Father's ouaia, as does Athanasius.
If Serapion 's way of speaking of the Son is compared to that of Origen,
apart from his rare use of the designation 'Word' and the complete absence of
reference to the Son as 'Wisdom' - an ascription fundamental to Origen' s the
ology - the most noticeable difference is that, although Origen, like Serapion,
speaks of the Son as the image of the Father, the latter understands this in
terms of likeness and similarly great properties, whereas Origen generally
explains it in terms of the Son making God understood and known14 or having
an intermediatory position15, indications of his more subordinationist view.
Thus, Serapion 's understanding of the nature and status of the Son can be said
to resemble closely that of Athanasius, but bear little similarity with that of
Origen.
The fact that, within one work, there are at least two topics where Sera
pion 's understanding can either be said to be like Origen 's or like Athanasius'
suggests that this work may give evidence either of a time or of a way of
thinking which can be placed between these two authors. It is interesting that
a work with such a combination of views could be considered by Jerome to be
a 'distinguished book'16, indicating perhaps that, at the time it was written, it
was possible to hold more varied opinions and still to be considered orthodox
than is usually accepted.
13 In Against the Arians, for example, Athanasius says that Anus' Thalia states 'the Son does
not know the Father completely' (Against the Arians 1.9 (Bright, p. 9): my translation). In his
Letter to Alexander ofAlexandria, Arms holds the Son to be a result of the will of God (Athana
sius, Councils of Ariminum and Seleucia 16 (PG 26, 709A)), whilst those opposed argue that a
messenger or angel of the will (Isa. 9:6 LXX) cannot be a result of that will (see, for example,
Athanasius, Against the Arians 3.12 and 3.63 (Bright, pp. 166 and 217)).
14 De Principis 1.2.8 (SC 252, p. 126); cf. 2.4.3 (SC 252, p. 286).
15 Commentary on John 1.104 (ed. C. Blanc, SC 120 (Paris, 1966), pp. 114-116) and 19.35-
36 (ed. C. Blanc, SC 290 (Paris, 1982), pp. 66-8.
16 Liber de Viris Inlustribus XCIX, (ed. E.C. Richardson, TU 14 (Leipzig, 1896), p. 47): my
translation.
XIV. John of Damascus and Beyond
Krishna Alveteg
Ioannis Bekos
Peter C Bouteneff
Marc De Groote
Job Getcha
Julia Konstantinovsky
Basile Lourie
George Metallidis
Joost van Rossum
In Silence We Speak:
Romanos Melodos and Mary at the Cross
Kristina Alveteg, Lund
The title given to this contribution is 'In Silence We Speak: Romanos Melo
dos and Mary at the Cross'. The key words of the title follow the paradoxical
character of the hymn and do not therefore harmonise with any logic - for it is
impossible to speak and be silent at the same time. But in the context of the
hymn this impossibility becomes possible when reflected within the actual his
torical situation.
How, then, is the textual connection of the act of speaking and the state of
silence to be described? The act of speaking must be understood in the histor
ical context of imperial politics, especially under the reign of emperor Justin
ian (527-65). It is here useful to consider the early Byzantine transformation of
late antique literary genres and how Romanos develops the authoritative func
tion of rhetorical preludes, so called Prooimia1. As Romanos usually begins
his hymns with from one to three such prooimia, it is of crucial importance to
learn how Romanos, by using this rhetorical form, has succeeded in transfer
ring the authority of imperial decrees to the early Byzantine Church and its
liturgy. Thus the uniting message of the liturgical hymn became as authorita
tive as the imperial decrees of Justinian2.
The important point to be made here is that the act of liturgical speaking
has, in the hymns of Romanos, an authoritative position of its own, only partly
serving imperial interests. In Romanos' hymn 'Mary at the Cross' it becomes
evident that the dialogue form is used to portray experiences of the unspeak
able, silent experiences formed within the traditions of the Church and its litur
gical celebration. How is this experience of the unspeakable expressed? Can it
be possible that the author here uses and develops Origen's understanding of
the philosophical concept theoria as a method for interpreting the bible? Inter
estingly, as the story of 'Mary at the Cross' goes on, one finds the Greek word
theorem used as a final step on the ladder of liturgical contemplation. As Mark
Edwards puts it in his recent and most welcome book, Origen against Plato,
1 Herbert Hunger, Prooimion: Elemente der byzantischen Kaiseridee in den Arengen der
Urkunden (Vienna: Bohlau, 1964). The political significance of Romanos' works has been
shown by Johannes Koder in his Mil der Seele Augen sah er Deines Lichtes Zeichen, Herr: Hym-
nen des orthodoxen Kirchenjahres von Romanos den Meloden (Vienna: Verl. deer Osterr. Akad.
dere Wiss., 1996), 14.
2 For emperor Justinian (527-65) and his political impact on Romanos and early Byzantine
developments, see further Koder, 'Einleitung' to Mit der Seele Augen, 12-14.
280 K. Alveteg
Theoria, the Vision of the Good, may be the termminus of a quest for a philosopheer;
for Origen theoria is the vision of one's duty within the text, and thus the prelude to a
new task which ends not in an act of seeing, but in union with Christ'.3
Romanos' use of the word theorem in 'Mary at the Cross' is definitely to be
seen as 'a prelude to a new task'. This new task is metaphorically associated
with the liturgy and contemplative silence, thus reaching the sphere of mysti
cal theology. Romanos is here constantly moving towards the divine, in order
to put all the light on his sense of mysticism. The dramatic scene and story
focuses on Mary, the Virgin and the Birthgiver of God, talking to her beloved
Son. The Son, who is dying but not yet dead, sees her and answers from his
position on the Cross to her most urgent complaints. In retelling the biblical
story of Mary facing her dying son on the cross the narrative circles around the
greatest paradox of Christian and early Byzantine faith - the Incarnation. Fur
thermore, if one patiently follows the pace of the story told by the hymn, the
symbolic use of language unveils not only the secets of the Cross, but - if
interpreted metaphorically - even the Church as Mystery in her liturgical cel
ebration of Good Friday and Holy Week4.
The Mystery of Church: Transcending Visceral Seeing
Imagine now that you are attending a Good Friday Service taking place in
Constantinople and its main Cathedral, Hagia Sophia, perhaps around 550 AD.
It is late at night, during the nightly prayer (vigil), and everyone is there -
from emperor Justinian and the imperial court to military administrators,
devote monks, tradesmen and other inhabitants of the city. Closer to heaven,
from the highest point of the ambon, we can see the ecclesiastical hierarchy
perform the holy readings. As soon as the recitation of biblical texts is com
pleted, a sung explanation of their meaning is introduced by the diacon, prob
ably the author himself:
Tov 81 f|ua<; ctxaupcoGevxa 8e0xe Ttavxei; uu<;f|amuev
auxOv yap KaxeiSe Mapia Erci ^\jXou Kai eêyev
'El Kai ctxaupov vmoueveii; ai> tmapxeii;
6 vioq Kai Geoc; uou'5
3 Mark Julian Edwards, Origen against Plato (Ashgate: Variorum, 2002), 137.
4 My choice of method owes much to previous studies on Syriac theological language and the
works of Ephrem the Syrian, as evaluated by William L. Petersen and Sebastian P. Brock. See
also more recent articles and studies by Susan Ashbrook Harvey, especciall her discussions of
Syriac liturgical texts and the rol of biblical women. The theory of metaphor is my own, devel
oped in dialogue with modern discussions on theological use of poetic language.
5 The Greek text is taken from the French edition of the text by Jos6 Grosdidier de Matons,
Romanos le Melode, Hymnes, IV, Hymnes XXXII-XLV, SC 128 (Paris 1967), 160.
(Proomiori) Come, let us all sing praise to him who was crucified for us !
Mary saw him on th wooden beam and said:
Even though you endure the cross,
You remain
My Son and My God.
What kind of speech do we meet in this preludium, the prooimionl The lis
tener is here thrown into the rhetorical topos, which can be found on several
literary levels. The obvious level of understanding is given by the first sen
tence, in which the attendant of the liturgy learns his or her task - to sing
praise to him who was crucified for us. The second authoritative level is to be
seen in the inserted narrative about Mary and her vision of the Cross:
Mary saw him on the wooden beam and said:
Even though you endure the cross,
You remain My Son and My God6.
The following hymnal strophes, oikoi, represent another another authority,
which can be understood as the poweer of questioning and explaining. By
means of the poetic dialogue form, Mary's vision of the Cross is told in a
new way (lat. emulatio) and explanations of its meaning are repeatedly
given. Mary's vision is here closely attached to a dynamic act of silent expe
riences, theoria. How are these stages of contemplation represented within
the text?
Firstly, the primary voice of the dialogue, Mary, confronts her audience
with a constant tension between the human sphere and the divine, as directly
expressed already in the preludium: My Son and My God. As this paradox is
repeated at the end of every following strophe or oikos, Mary is, therefore,
repeatedly underlined as an authority placed in between ordinary humans and
God7. Romanos here uses an already developed homiltic topos and makes
something new of it. Thus, Mary's function develops and is to be understood
differently. From being Theotokos and God's obedient servant, Mary is put
into to the new task of serving the earthly union of Christ and humanity, that
is, the Church. By means of poetic imagery, Mary receives the authority to
draw humanity nearer to divine life.
6 My English translation combines the previous translations by Ephrem Lash (San Francisco:
HarperCollins, 1995) and R.J. Schork (Gainsville: University of Florida Press, 1995) as I find
them quite complementary to each other. My basic understanding of the text has grown out of a
Swedish translation of the Greek text. The translation is my own, published in 2003. The
Swedish text is to be found in the Swedish Svenskt Patristikt Bibliotek (Artos, Bibel och
predikan, ed. Sten Hidal, Skelleftea, 2003).
7 The Church's official dogma holding. Mary as being Theotokos, Birthgiver of God, must
naturally be considered in this context. For the theological concept of Theotokos and its influ
ences on later theological and rhetorical developments, see above alle Leena Man Peltomaa, 'The
Image of the Virgin Mary in the Akathistos Hymn' (Doctoral thesis, Helsini, 2000), 31-58; a
later version under the same title was published Leiden: Brill, 2001.
282 K. Alveteg
Secondly, this clearly mystical character of the hymn is established through

Mary's continuous conversation with her Son, who is nailed at the cross, but
uniquely alive. Due to Mary's caring complaints, hurt feelings, and unceasing
questions, the Son finds it necessary to explain the meaning of his coming
journey to Hades, the abode of the dead. The reason why human experience of
suffering and death is so vividly represented here is that Romanos was directly
influenced by liturgical ideas coming from Ephrem the Syrian - the idea of
Mary's unceasing complaints constantly contrasted with Christ's death on the
cross8. Consequently, the first step on the ladder of liturgical experience is to
see, to consider the vulnerable state of humanity.
Thirdly, the constant tension between the divine nature of wisdom and
power and the somewhat weaker human is, at the same time, reconciled by
Mary's ways of meditating on her son's explanations of his coming death. The
progress of contemplation up to the mysterious parable of oikos 13 is at first
sight achieved by Mary alone, as she step by step grasps the mystery within
herself. It all starts with the Greek verb katoran or Kaxel8ov:
Mary saw him on the wooden beam and cried . . .9
In the first oikos (alfa), the meaning of seeing the Son on the Cross is ampli
fied as Mary the Ewe 'beheld', theorousa, her lamb when he was dragged to
slaughter. What is the meaning of theorousa in this context? This kind of see
ing is immediately explained by Romanos in a parallelism: to behold the lamb
is to follow him to his slaughter in torment and cry out loud: Where are you
going and why?
Within the structure of the dialogue it at first seems impossible for Mary to
understand why her son has to be crucified. Being the mother of a nursed and
beloved child, Mary needs to mourn in tears, but yet she soon chases her tears
away: by asking the fundamental questions - where and why? - and by lis
tening to the words from the Divine Logos, she suddenly realises that her Son
is the heavenly bread, is the divine Word who was made flesh within her
through the Incarnation. In the seventh strophe, Mary is able to chafe her heart,
but she is not able to silence her thoughts, not understanding why her son has
to suffer in order to save Adam and Eve from their state of disobedience. As a
consequence, Mary's son instantly complains (oikos 9): You don't get it! You
do not understand (ouk oida) what I am saying! Once again Mary's son
explains the situation of humanity in which Adam and Eve need to learn how
to listen, 'how to keep the Physician's order', how to overcome the pain of
their souls. Consequently, strophes 9 and 10 show that the next stage of con
8 See above all, Jose Grosdidier de Matons and his commentary on the hymn in SC 128, 143-
157), especially 144. The liturgical idea of Ephrem was, according to Matons, reused by the
Byzantine hagiographer Symeon Metaphrastes in the tenth century, but in Symeon's poem as
well as in the poem of Ephrem the Syrian Christ appears as a dead, non-speaking person.
9 SC 128, 160. Mary at the Cross, Ttpooiuiov.
templation has a need of silenced thoughts in order to reach a proper under

standing. Later on, when Mary has expressed her doubts and fears about com
ing events, she is encouraged to listen to the parable of the good Physician of
Body and Soul (oikos 13), who uses his medical box (narthex). This box
denotes the surgical instruments of the Cross, whereby Christ is going to con
quer death by healing the wounds of a suffering humanity10. Therefore, with
out explaining any further, Mary's son urges Mary to abandon her grief and to
be joyful because of the awaiting redemption (oikos 14). It is not until this
very special, essentially liturgical, moment that Mary stops complaining and
freely confesses that the theoria of her son and God cures her (oikos 15):
GepaTteuei yap e|xe xo GecopeTv cte
meaning that she wants to follow her Son, the Divine Logos, wherever he
goes, even if it results in her own dying and death.
According to Romanos' hymn 'Mary at the Cross', the voice of Mary leads
the attentive listener to the mystery of Incarnation and the meaning for us of
Christ's coming death on the Cross. Finally, when the act of listening reaches
the point of contemplative silence, the human Gea)pf| moves beyond the con
templative act of theoria and enters into the new liturgical task: silently expe
riencing a redeemed self in union with Christ, the Church confesses and sings
praise (oikos 17, doxology):
You are the one who suffers and cannot suffer! You are My Son and My
God!
10 See further SC 128 and the conclusions of Grosdidier de Matons, especially his references
to both Origen and Ephrem the Syrian as regards the rhetorical composition of this parable (149).
The Image of God in Man according to St John Damascene:
Implications on Issues Surrounding Euthanasia
Ioannis Bekos, Geneva
The theology of St John Damascene regarding the depiction of the images

of Christ and saints on icons has attracted the attention of many theologians as
well as scholars from other disciplines. At the same time, his teaching on the
image of God in man and its originality has not been extensively studied1.
Among the works of St John Damascene that deal with the creation of man
according to the image of God - an issue which is easily overlooked in On the
Orthodox Faith and On the Divine Images - the polemical treatise On the Two
Wills in Christ merits particular attention2. Since God created man according
to his own image, which is identified with the intellectual and rational nature
and the free will3, and since Christ became man according to this image in
man4, there is a direct connection between what happened to Christ and the
image of God in man.
What I argue throughout this paper is that St John's theological approach,
marked by the interplay between Christology (the presence of the two wills in
Christ) and anthropology (the teaching on the creation of man according to the
image of God), signifies an original way of thinking, through which St John
makes use of the patristic tradition and at the same time provides the context
for direct anthropological implications5. The provision of this context is justi
fied with reference to a modern ethical issue like euthanasia6.
1 Meany's thesis is an exception (J. Meany, The Image of God in Man According to the Doc
trine of Saint John Damascene (Manila: San Jose Seminary, 1954)), even though he did not
focus on the original character of St John Damascene's theology.
2 De Duabus in Christo Voluntatibus, (ed. Bonifatius Kotter, in Die Schriften des Johannes
von Damaskos, IV, Liber de haeresibus, Opera Polemica, PTS 22 (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter,
1981).
3 Volunt. 38, lines 23-27.
4 Volunt. 30, 1-11.
5 Louth follows a very interesting and convincing approach on how originality should be
measured by referring, for example, to the complementarity of Trinitarian theology and Chris
tology in the presentation of the Orthodox doctrine of Christ (A. Louth, St John Damascene:
Tradition and Originality in Byzantine Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002),
p. 174).
6 While Rozemond acknowledges a relationship between Christology and ethics in the works
of St John (K. Rozemond, 'La Christologie de saint Jean Damascene', Studia Patristica et Byzan-
tina 8 (1959), p. 15), she does not go further to establish this relationship.
286 I. Bekos
St John's main idea is that the deliberate expression of the human will may
be either natural (relating to the cpvmq or hypostatic and gnomic. He proposes
that not only Christ's, but also man's deliberate expression of the will may be
natural. St John starts his teaching with reference to Christology. Obviously,
he is influenced by Chalcedonian terminology and the arguments that had been
used during the Christological controversies on the presence of the two wills
and acts in Christ. Thus, he elaborates his teaching through the exposition of
what is natural and what is hypostatic, in man and in Christ, in terms of the
homonymy7 of will, since it was the intellect and therefore its rational appe
tency, the will, that suffered in human nature first due to the fall8.
St John, following a long-standing patristic tradition, says that both the
'power to will' (6eA,r|xiKf| 8uvanu;) and 'just willing' (xo dnX&q GeA,eiv)9
have been given by God to man, by nature and are, therefore, present in all
human beings. But, since all human beings do not want the same things, the
'object of willing' (GeA,r|xov), on the other hand, is gnomic and hypostatic10.
While the 'object of willing' is, generally speaking, hypostatic and gnomic,
St John believes that there are also natural 'objects of willing' (Qe'kr\\iaxa)11 in
man. There are, in particular, two such natural 'objects of willing'. The first is
submission to the law of God, and the second are things constitutive of human
nature such as hunger, thirst, sleep and the like12. St John focuses on the for
mer, submission to the law of God, since it results from the deliberate expres
sion of human will.
Why is it important that the human will may have natural 'objects of
willing'?
St John does not want to challenge the well-established patristic tradition on

the natural, hypostatic, or gnomic character of the 'objects of willing' in man
and in Christ. On the contrary, he is faithful to the patristic tradition and says
that although the 'objects of willing' can be either natural or hypostatic and
7 Homonyms share the same name, but have different definitions: Dialectica (ed. Kotter, in
Schriften I, lnstitutio elementaris, Capita philosophica (Dialectica), PTS 7 (1969)), 32 recensio
fusior (15 rec. brer.), 1-18.
8 Volunt. 28, 35 and 44, 7-8.
9 In fact, St John, identifies the 'power to will' with 'just willing' in Expositio Fidei (ed. Kot
ter, in Schriften II, "EkSogiq aKpi^c, xfjg dpGo66£ov nfoxEcoc,, Expositio fidei, PTS 12 (1973)),
58, 38-39).
10 Volunt. 22, 6-8 and 23, 16-17. The 'object of willing' implies not only 'that which is sub
ject to the will, the thing itself which we will' (Volunt. 23, 20-21), but also how one wills - 'xo
n&q QeXew' (Expos. 58, 39-40).
11 St John also calls 'QeXr\\iaxa' those things that are subject to the will, which we have the
power to will or not, in lnstitutio Elementaris (ed. Kotter, in Schriften I (PTS 7)), 10, 17-22.
12 Volunt. 25, 6-9. Kotter notes a parallel to this particular passage only in a treatise of St John
The Image of God in Man according to St John Damascene 287
gnomic, the gnomic and hypostatic 'objects of willing' are ascribed to man
whereas the presence of natural 'objects of willing' is restricted to the Holy
Trinity13.
However, St John wants to emphasize the divine character of human nature
(due to the creation of man according to the image of God). For this reason, he
appears to identify the hypostatic with the gnomic 'objects of willing' and to
see both as being in accord with an individual's choice rather than in accord
with the law of God14 - a belief that is unusual not only in the previous patris
tic tradition, but also for St John himself15.
This inconsistency is resolved with reference to anthropology and in partic
ular to the way in which St John sees that which is 'common to the nature' (xo
xauxOV xfj<; cpi)aeco<;) and the 'difference' of the hypostases in man. On the
one hand, God created man in such a way that the will that is 'common to the
nature' corresponds to the participation in that nature that is given for the joy
that derives out from the natural relationship. On the other, the 'difference' of
the hypostases is meant to maintain the distinction between those who belong
to the same species, to facilitate their self-knowledge, and to avoid regarding
that which is 'foreign' as it is were proper and intimate (d)<; oiKeiq) xcp
dXA,oxpiq))16. Consequently, the 'difference' of the hypostases implies neither
an attitude 'against nature' and against the law of God nor the presence of only
hypostatic and gnomic 'objects of willing' in man. That is to say, the preser
vation of the individuality of the hypostases does not exclude the possibility of
'common' 'objects of willing' in man that deserve the characterization natural
(submission to the law of God). In other words, St John affirms that the cru
cial thing that safeguards that which is 'common' in the 'objects of willing'
among the different hypostases and, consequently, the natural character of an
'object of willing', is the sharing of a common nature and the denial of the
obligatory connection of the reality of different hypostases with the hypostatic
'objects of willing' in both the Holy Trinity and in man (though for different
reasons in these two cases).
Consequently, the presence of natural 'objects of willing' in man, without
sacrificing the individuality of the different hypostases, is important because it
stresses the significance of all humans, sharing the same nature - by pointing
to the endowed natural character not only of the 'power to will' but also of
'objects of willing' - and highlights both dependence on God, with whose
image man has been endowed, and the dependence of men on each other.
not published in Schriften, the Libellus de recta sententia (PG 94, 1421).
13 Volunt. 24, 10-36.
14 Volunt. 25, 9-12.
15 Volunt. 6, 67-77. St John, in the Expositio Fidei, drawing primarily on St Maximus the
Confessor, says that the 'objects of willing' may be either natural, hypostatic, or 'against nature'
(gnomic) (Expos. 58, 84), rather than natural or hypostatic and gnomic.
288 I. Bekos
In addition, once man chooses to use his 'power to will' according to the
law of God, in reality he follows the natural 'object of willing', since God
created man to be subject to the law of God as a slave of God and obedient to
God by nature (cprjaei yap 8oCA,oi; Geou Kai tntoxeipioq)17. Therefore, the
presence of the natural 'object of willing' in man represents the safeguarding
of what fundamentally constitutes man himself (that which is 'according to
nature' - the Kaia cptimv), whereas the hypostatic and gnomic 'object of
willing' represents the choice of human will that ignores what actually con
stitutes man himself (that which is 'against nature' - the rcapa cpuaiv). In the
latter case, the human choice does not coincide with what has been given to
man by nature. In other words, any 'object of willing ' that is not natural is
suicidal since it is directed against man 's own nature. Thus, what constitutes
a man's own nature, or the knowledge of his own nature, is proved to be of
fundamental importance. Otherwise, the man's 'objects of willing' are self-
destructive.
How are the natural 'objects of willing' substantiated in man?
St John turns to Christology to answer this question and points out its Chris-
tological implications. Submission to the law of God, as a precondition for the
presence of natural 'objects of willing' in man, is perfectly exemplified in
Christ. The phrase in the prayer in Gethsemane, 'Father, if it be possible, let
this cup pass from me; but not as I will, but as you do"8, and the phrase, T did
not descend from heaven in order to accomplish my own will but the will of
my Sender'19, lead St John to state that in Christ, through obedience to the
divine will, the divine 'objects of willing' become 'objects of willing' of
humanity20. It is in this way that the presence of natural 'objects of willing' in
man becomes possible since the divine 'objects of willing' are but natural.
Interestingly, the presence of natural 'objects of willing' in the humanity of
Christ, though being safeguarded through the hypostatic union of divinity and
humanity in the hypostasis of the Son of God, may also be connected with the
human nature itself. This connection is based on St John's consideration that
every man may also enjoy natural 'objects of willing'. Such a consideration
supports, in a particular way, the full humanity in Christ by rejecting any
mechanistic obedience of the human will to something (the divine reality) dif
ferent and foreign to it.
16 Volunt. 3, 17-24.
17 Volunt. 25, 6-8.
18 Mt. 26:39; Lk. 22:42.
19 Jn 6:38.
The Image of God in Man according to St John Damascene 289
How is such interplay between Christology and anthropology further jus

tified on an ethical level?
In this section, reference will be made only to those issues related to the
contemporary discussion on euthanasia which deal with the voluntary admin
istration of death as a deliberate expression of human will. There are three
implications of this interplay.
Firstly, according to St John Damascene, the presence of natural 'objects of
willing' reveals not only man's proximity to, but also his dependence on God
and on his fellowmen. On the contrary, a gnomic and hypostatic 'object of
willing' turns away from these previous dependencies. In this context, the
argument in favour of euthanasia according to which man is a self-determined
being and as such is free to decide on all matters in accordance with whatever
he wants21 is not justified since the presence of natural 'objects of willing' in
man invalidates the grounding of ethical decisions on human autonomy (the
independence of man from the rest of humankind has been one of the popular
arguments in modern bioethics)22.
Secondly, the natural 'object of willing' is connected with the safeguarding
of that which is 'according to nature', which represents what is proper to
human nature. What is proper to human nature cannot be defined without a
profound knowledge of man's own nature and without reference to a particu
lar anthropology. Therefore, any choice of man regarding his nature, his own
life and death, must be subject to the best possible knowledge of this nature.
Otherwise, any such decision resembles the decision of the first-created human
beings, a decision that was against their own nature due to their overlooking of
that which is constitutive of human nature. As a result, the use in modern times
of 'principlism', the idea that supports the use of mere principles23 such as
autonomy as sufficient factors for taking decisions on life and death, is elimi
nated.
Finally, the presence of the natural 'objects of willing' in man highlights the
intimate link between the human nature and a particular expression of the
human will. In such a man, the desire for absolute control over death is not
possible since that would signify the alienation of man, as a free and rational
being, from his own body and its destiny. Therefore, the argument in favor of
euthanasia according to which the choice of a patient who suffers from an
20 Volunt. 41,7-22.
21 D. Callahan, 'Reason, Self-determination, and Physician-Assisted Suicide', in K. Foley and
H. Hendin (eds), The Case Against Assisted Suicide: For the Right to End-of-Life Care (Balti
more: John Hopkins University Press, 2002).
22 J. Shuman, The Body of Compassion: Ethics, Medicine and the Church (Eugene, OR:
Wipf and Stock, 2003), pp. 24-5.
23 T.L. Beauchamp, and J.F. Childress, Principles of Biomedical Ethics ("Oxford: Oxford Uni
290 I. Bekos
incurable disease to request his own death24 is justified is not convincing as a

sufficient basis for taking a decision about the destiny of human beings25 since
it supports a profound dualism in man that distinguishes the corruptible human
nature from the expression of a particular human will.
versity Press, 2001).

24 A.J. Klotzko, 'What Kind of Life? What Kind of Death? An Interview with Dr. Henk
Prins', Bioethics, 11.1 (1997), 24-42.
25 The trend for considering medicine as a sufficient ally for the control over death is
described in G.P. McKenny, To Relieve the Human Condition: Bioethics, Technology, and the
Body (New York: State University of New York Publishers, 1997).
The Two Wills of God: Providence in St John of Damascus
Peter C. Bouteneff, Crestwood, New York
Andrew Louth's recent book on John Damascene recalls and shows more
clearly than before how St John draws on his predecessors - sometimes in
ways that would be seen within contemporary literary ethics as plagiarism -
and yet does so in a way that engenders insights and ideas that are unique to
him. 'I shall say nothing of my own', the Damascene writes at the beginning
of the Dialectica, 'but collect together into one the fruits of the labours of the
most eminent of teachers and make a compendium'1. St John effectively per
ceives himself as sitting on the shoulders of giants, but what he sees and is
able to express from that lofty perch makes him a giant himself. What does
St John of Damascus do with the wealth of patristic material on providence?
Providence in the polemical writings
The subject reveals itself in several places of his work. In his treatise against
the Manichees, providence arises in the discussion of how good and evil are
allowed to coexist in the world. The Manichee questions how God could have
created the devil, knowing that he would fall. He also wonders why a good
God would punish the wicked eternally. Part of the Damascene's response lies
in his consistently expressed theme of the impossibility of angelic or demonic
change of orientation, whether that change be a fall towards evil or a repen
tance towards the good, as well as the impossibility of such change for human
beings after their death2. But his argument ultimately rests on another of his
consistent themes - God's providential ordering of creation in such a way that
it would ultimately fit with his good purposes3.
In the Dispute between a Saracen and a Christian, John faces the argument
that God is the author of everything, not only good but also evil. He responds
in terms of God's interaction with the world in general, and with human beings
(possessed of free will) in particular. That interaction is expressed partly in
terms of the clear distinction the Damascene wants to identify within God's
1 Proem. 60-2. See Andrew Louth, St John Damascene: Tradition and Originality in Byzan
tine Theology (Oxford, 2002), p. 15.
2 Manich. 75 (Kotter IV, 391f.).
3 Manich. 34-44 (Kotter IV, 372-6). See also Louth, St John Damascene, pp. 68f.
292 P.C. BOUTENEFF
will: some things happen in direct accordance with God's essential will, while
other things happen by permission. God allows certain things to happen -
despite himself, as it were - but in the foreknowledge that they would ulti
mately lead to the fulfillment of his essential will. He suggests to the Saracen,
that if he were 'to rise up and steal or fornicate', this would not be the (essen
tial) will of God, but rather 'permission, forbearance and longsuffering'4.
In effect, these relatively brief treatments of providence, occasioned by
actual or supposed arguments of John's opponents, appear to serve as
rehearsals for what would become a more thorough and systematic (though
still relatively brief) discussion of providence in the Expositio fidei. It will be
interesting to recall, however, especially this last example of the distinction
between God's essential will and his permission, for that is something that
John will address in a significant way. As we look at the chapter in the Expo
sitio dealing with providence, we will be attentive to John's sources, of which
some are obvious textual sources and others are those predecessors which may
have been the most likely influences for his own thinking.
Providence in the Expositio fidei
As is well known, Nemesius of Emesa's De natura hominis is one of John's

main patristic sources for the anthropology of the Expositio fidei. The textual
indices found in Kotter's edition of the Damascene and Morani's edition of
Nemesius confirm the extent of Damascene's dependence on his late-fourth-
century predecessor.
The subject of Nemesius' treatise is the human person, his composition and
his place in creation. The treatise ends with a discussion of human freedom,
which the author sees as necessitating a prolonged excursus to explain how
God interacts with that freedom. This is the context for Nemesius' reflections
on providence. For his part, John Damascene follows a similar trajectory, from
human free will to divine providence. In both these areas, he reproduces
lengthy passages of Nemesius, to the extent of being almost entirely dependent
on him. Yet, for all of the Damascene's repetition of Nemesius, it is of con
siderable interest to see what he leaves out. We ought to take a parenthetic
glance at this before we return to the other sources of John's understanding of
providence.
4 'Eav apxi avaaxai; AneXQa Kai kA,e\|/a> f) Ttopveuaco, xi abxb Xeyeii; GeXruia GeoC r\
auyxcopr|aiv Kai avoxriv Kai naKpo(k>niav; Sarac. 3.18-20 (Kotter IV, 432).
The Two Wills of God 293
Omissions from Nemesius

Because Nemesius' intention was to refute other theories of freedom and
providence5, his references are eclectic throughout, and he enjoys pointing out
parallels between Christian and pagan thought. This constitutes the first cate
gory of omissions in Damascene's Expositio. For even in John's otherwise
verbatim reproductions of Nemesian passages, references to non-Christians are
systematically excised. John's aim and scope are clearly narrowed to Christian
thought, the Christian world.
Another omission may emerge from similar sensibilities. Nemesius' first
chapter explicitly about providence (42 in Morani's numbering), sets out to
convince Christians, Jews, and pagans alike of the existence of providence.
His examples are far-reaching, and in some cases appear to take a broadly
inclusive approach to non-Christian faith. One of the proofs he proposes for
the existence of providence, for example, is
the agreement among all human beings to acknowledge the need to pray and to per
form divine service by means of sacred offerings and holy places. For how, or to
whom, should anyone pray, if there were no mind guiding the world?6
The urge to pray and worship, and the zeal for good, are elements not exclu
sive to Christians; they somehow point to the one God who has providential
care over all. This kind of thinking appears not to interest the Damascene in
the slightest, for while he draws extensively from the preceding and following
chapters of the De natura hominis, he leaves this chapter entirely uncited.
Further on, in discussing providence as God's allowing people to make ill-
advised choices or his allowing bad things to happen to them, the Damascene
cites Nemesius verbatim for around fifteen lines of text.7 He adds just one sen
tence of his own, filling out the picture of how God allows a proud person to
fall in order to be humbled and brought to repentance. He eliminates Neme
sius' short citation from Menander, which had been used only to illustrate a
point about the pedagogical nature of sin. He also effectively narrows Neme
sius' understanding of the exemplary character of witness and self-sacrifice.
Nemesius portrays martyrdom as something which stirs up emulation in the
hearts of others. But aside from explicitly Christian martyrdom, Nemesius
spells out cases of secular martyrdom: for him, the inspiring example of the
martyrs is the same as that of 'those who have sacrificed themselves for their
country, their people, their liege-lords, their children, or their faith'. John sees
only Christian martyrs as exemplary in this way and so illustrations from the
pagan world are superfluous.
5 See R.W. Sharpies, 'Nemesius of Emesa and Some Theories of Divine Providence', VC 37
(1983), 141-56.
6 Nat. hom. 41, 336 (Morani 122).
7 Expositio 43 (Kotter II, 101, lines 28-43).
294 P.C. BOUTENEFF
So John reveals himself as decidedly and unapologetically less eclectic than

Nemesius. As he progresses in his chapter on providence, his relationship to
Nemesius continues to be of interest, although in different ways.
Definition of Providence
When it comes to defining providence, the Damascene begins by quoting
two sentences -the same two cited by Maximus the Confessor: 'Providence,
then, is the care that God takes over existing things. Providence is the will
(PouA,r|cTii;) of God through which all existing things receive their suitable
direction'8. The two sentences are direct from Nemesius, but interestingly
Nemesius himself suggests that they constitute already accepted definitions of
providence9, so that there appears to be an emergent stock definition, possibly
pre-existing Nemesius, but in any event codified by him and canonized by
Maximus and John of Damascus.
Providence as Permission
John goes on to set out the interaction of providence with human free will
under the rubric of divine permission, or concession (auyxcbpr|aii;). Provi
dence - which becomes itself an acting subject10 - permits bad things to hap
pen to good people, so that their virtue might be apparent to others, as in Job's
case. Providence 'permits something strange to be done, so that through this
seemingly strange act something great and marvellous might be accomplished'
- the quintessential example being Christ's death on the cross. While Neme
sius supplies John's text for much of what he says on this theme, he is not
John's only source of ideas. As we look at three other potential sources, we
must remain attentive to the precise manner of their setting out the notion of
permission as a kind of secondary will of God.
Indeed, the idea of providence as the 'permission' or 'patience' of God, pre
cedes Nemesius: it can be attributed at least as early as Irenaeus, when he
asserts that God permitted Jonah to be swallowed by the whale - using the
whale to help Jonah convert Nineveh, something which Irenaeus takes also to
mean that God permits our own apostasy in the recognition that this is ulti
mately a way towards salvation11.
8 Expos. 43.2 (Kotter II, 100); Nemesius Nat. hom. 42, 343f. (Morani 125); Maximus Ambig.
10.42 (PG 91, 1189B). Maximus only inserts the clause 'according to our God-bearing fathers',
by whom he must have meant at least Nemesius.
9 He begins the second sentence with 6piôvxai 8e auxr|v Kai oOxox;, suggesting that prov
idence is 'also commonly defined as ...'
10 Providence, for Nemesius and many Christian writers, is a subject of identity, an actor.
Providence is either to be identified with God himself, or a power exercised by God. Cf. Max
imus the Confessor: '... providence is either the one who is truly known to be the Creator, or is
a power exercised by the Creator ...' (Ambig. 10.42 (PG 91, 1 189B)).
11 Cf. Adv. Haer. 3.20.1, also 4.37.7. There is a useful treatment of these passages in John
Behr, Asceticism and Anthropology in Irenaeus and Clement (Oxford, 2000), pp. 45-52.
The Two Wills of God 295
Origen, in his third homily on Genesis, distinguishes between God's will

(voluntate) on the one hand and providence on the other.
God concerns himself with mortals, and nothing is done either in heaven or on earth
without his providence. Note that we say 'without his providence', and not 'without his
will'. For if many things happen without his will, nothing is done without his provi
dence. Providence is that according to which God organizes, administers, and disposes
all things; will is that according to which God wants or doesn't want something12.
Origen seems to be positing a primary volition of God which gives way to and
is somehow actualized by the disposition and administration of 'providence'.
Maximus the Confessor13 follows a similar kind of line and also may have
been a source for the Damascene, although he, characteristically, expresses his
understanding of providence in terms of the logoi of creation. For Maximus,
the logos of each created thing is in effect an expression of God's essential
will or intention for that thing, or for its nature. Providence, says Maximus, is
responsible for 'the eternally preserved succession of everything and each one
according to form, so that the logos of each nature is not corrupted', but rather
held together within the created order14.
This entire line of thinking, one which distinguishes a primary will of God
and a secondary providential execution of it, is something that John makes
explicit in his own particular way, independent of Nemesius.
The Two Wills of God

Before citing Nemesius on providence as permission, he introduces the
notion himself by establishing a dichotomy between those works that are
'according to [God's] good will (kcix' efjdoKiav)' and those that are 'accord
ing to [God's] permission (koxci avyxebpr\cnvy . As his reflection on provi
dence progresses through several more paragraphs, he becomes all the more
explicit on the distinction between the two. He takes leave of Nemesius' text
entirely, in order to describe a kind of double will of God. He calls them the
antecedent (or primary) will (rcpor|yoi>uevov GeA,t|na) and consequent (or
secondary) will (ferc6uevov GeA,r|ua). The primary will of God, his essential
will, is his own, (££, auxoO) - and John describes it as 'the will that all be
saved, and come to his kingdom' (cf. 1 Tim 2:4). The secondary or consequent
will, which John equates with permission, comes into play through interaction
with free human beings - its source or cause is us (£^ r|uexepou; allicn;).
John's speaking of God as having two wills is obviously not to be construed
as a theological ditheletism - they are in effect two aspects or modes of
the same essential divine will. Instead, he finds a useful and unique way of
12 Hom, in Gen. 3.2 (SC 7bis, 114-16).

13 I am grateful to Andrew Louth for providing me with his unpublished paper, 'The Doctrine
of Providence in St Maximos the Confessor'.
14 Ambig. 10.42 (PG 91, 1189A).
296 P.C. BOUTENEFF
bringing together what was being said for centuries about providence. Ire-
naeus, Origen, Nemesius, and Maximus were aiming at this primary and sec
ondary level of divine concern for creation. All of these thinkers, except
Nemesius, spoke of a primary will in God, and expressed providence in terms
other than 'will'. (Indeed, Origen was emphatic in distinguishing 'providence'
from 'will'.) Nemesius did not speak of God's primary will, but called provi
dence 'the will (Po6A,r|aii;) of God through which all existing things receive
their suitable direction'.
John brings all of this together in identifying God's providential will
(GeA,r|na - that is, faculty of will) as standing in relation to God's essential
will. That relationship is one of practicality, necessitated by God's unyielding
respect for the freely made choices of human beings.
For John, providence can be called the secondary will of God, one which is
brought to the service of his primary will. This latter is effectively God's
essential will for universal salvation, while the secondary will permits things
to happen which may seem quite contrary to that goal of salvation. They are
'willed' nonetheless, in the full knowledge that they may become the very
means of return and growth God-ward.
Joannes Geometres Kyriotes and His Metaphrasis Odarum
Marc De Groote, Ghent
Being the son of what he himself calls 'a loyal servant' (dxpnpdi;
Oepctrccov)1 of the emperor, Joannes Geometres (c.935 to the end of the tenth
century) was not only one of the leading poets and rhetoricians of his time;
he also served in the Byzantine army as a high-ranking soldier (proto-
spatharios?2). Hence he belonged to the inner circles of literary and political
Constantinople. Not long before 986 he was dismissed from military service
for reasons that are still unclear to us. He himself claims that the combina
tion of being both poet and soldier - Kai aocpirj GdA,Xcov Kai xoX\vt\
Kpa8ir|<;3 - was hardly appreciated by the authorities and envied by his fel
low citizens: therefore he would have been discharged. However, a more
plausible reason could be his attachment to the faction of Basileios Nothos4,
who had been acting as emperor since 976, because the legal heirs to the
throne, Basileios II and Konstantinos, were too young to govern the empire
themselves; Nothos was deposed in 985. Be that as it may, after his dis
missal Geometres left the luxurious mansion he had in the Mesomphalos
area of the city and retired as a monk in the monastery Tot Kupou, also sit
uated in the lepov aaxu. By doing so, he possibly got his second name,
Kyriotes5.
Joannes Geometres can be considered as a forerunner of the eleventh cen
tury pre-renaissance, a period during which authors would again, after cen
turies of merely collecting and preserving ancient traditions that would other
wise have been lost, express their own experiences in their works. Typical of
the spirit of the age, with its blending of Hellenism and Christianity6, seem to
be the ITapaSeiaog (ninety-nine elegiac tetrasticha), a paraphrase of the
Apophthegmata Patrum (see CPG 5560-5615), which was formerly sometimes
erroneously ascribed to the fifth-century Neilos, and the Mexa<ppaoig x&v
1 From the poem El<; feauxoC Ttaxepa, v. 2; ed. J.A. Cramer, Anecdota graeca e codd. ma-
nuscriptis Bibliothecae Regiae Parisiensis IV (Oxford, 1841 (Hildesheim, 1967)), p. 280,15. All
references are based on this edition.
2 So according to the Oxon. Bodl. Barocc. 25, ff. 280v and 287r.
3 From the epigram El<; Sauxov, v. 2; ed. Cramer, p. 295,24; cf. pp. 317,32-318,6.
4 See M.D. Lauxtermann, 'John Geometres. Poet and Soldier', Byz 68 (1998), 369-71.
5 Cf. V. Laurent, 'Notes critiques sur de recentes publications', EO 31 (1932), 119.
6 K. Demoen, 'Classicizing Elements in John Geometres' Letters about his garden', TIpaK-
xiko. id AieGvoix; EvvsSpiov KAaaaiKcbv Enoudcbv A' (Athens, 2001), 219.
298 M. De Groote
cbScbv, a rewording in 470 Byzantine dodecasyllables of nine biblical pericopes

which had won canonical regard in the Greek church soon after the fifth cen
tury and were recited during morning services: Ex. 15:1-19, Deut. 32:1-43, I
Reg. 2:1-10, Hab. 3:2-19, Is. 26:9-19, Ion. 2:3-10, Dan. 3:26-56, Dan. 3:57-
90, and Luc. 1:46-55,68-79.
Thorough investigation shows that the Metaphrasis Odarum has reached
us in a twofold way. Four manuscripts offer the text embedded in a rich
variety of other works; in the remaining fourteen manuscripts, the poem is
always preceded by the Metaphrasis Psalmorum, written by the fourth-cen
tury Apolinarios (CPG 3700)7, and breaks off after the first half of the ninth
ode (= 365, 17)8. Although the editio princeps was provided in 1764 by
A.M. Bandini in his description of the fifteenth-century Florentine manu
script Bibl. Medic. Laur., Gr. V 379, the best-known edition so far is that
by J.A. Cramer, dating from 1841 and based on the thirteenth-century
Par., Suppl. gr. 352 l0. This version of the text was, albeit with a few
changes, republished in Migne's Patrologia Graeca, vol. 106 (1863), col.
987-100211. Corrections were already suggested soon after Cramer's edi
tion: in his supplement to the Greek Anthology, N. Piccolos formulated
quite a number of objections; L. Sternbach, who collated the Par., Suppl. gr.
690 (11th- 12th century), proposed valuable emendations, as did F. Scheid-
weiler in his treatment of Geometres' poetic technique12. In anticipation of
7 Ed. A. Ludwich, Apolinarius. Metaphrasis Psalmorum (Leipzig, 1912).

8 First group: A = Athos, 'iprjpcov 539 (XV); I = Rome, Bibl. Vatic, Barb. gr. 74 (XVII);
P = Paris, Bibl. Nat., Suppl. gr. 690 (XI-XII); S = Paris, Bibl. Nat., Suppl. gr. 352 (XBT).
Second group: B = Munich, Bayer. Staatsbibl., Gr. 65 (early XVI); C = Oxford, Bodl. Libr.,
Barocc. 25 (early XIV); D = Berlin, Deutsche Staatsbibl., Phill. 1463 (XVI); E = Modena,
Bibl. Est., Gr. 65 (late XV); F = Paris, Bibl. Nat., Gr. 2892 (XVI); G = GieBen, Universitats-
bibl. 669 (XV); H = Athens, 'IcrcopiKOV MouoeTov xoC Neou 'EXXr|vianoC 64 (XVIII);
L = Florence, Bibl. Medic. Laur., Gr. V 37 (XV); M = Meteores, Mexauopcp. 402 (XVII);
N = Naples, Bibl. Naz., Gr. II A 11 (early XVI); O = Rome, Bibl. Vatic, Ottob. gr. 217
(XVII); Q = Rome, Bibl. Casan., Gr. 1528 (XVI); R = Rome, Bibl. Angel., Gr. 50 (C 4. 5)
(XVI); V = Rome, Bibl. Vatic, Gr. 1268 (late XV). For a complete description of the manu
script tradition, see M. De Groote, 'The Manuscript Tradition of Joannes Geometres'
Metaphrasis of the Odes', forthcoming.
9 A.M. Bandini, Catalogus codicum manuscriptorum Bibliothecae Mediceae Laurentianae
(Florence, 1764-70). Accedunt supplementa tria ab E. Rostagno et N. Festa congesta necnon
additamentum ex inventariis Bibliothecae Laurentianae depromptum accuravit F. Kudlien I
(Leipzig, 1961), 65-8.
10 Cramer, 352-66.
11 A more recent edition is that by A.-P. Koumantos, 'Translation of the Nine Odes accord
ing to John Kyriotis Geometris', Aekxiov BifthK&v MeAexmv 3 (1975), 127-33, who used only
manuscript M (see note 8) and failed to notice the previous editions.
12 N. Piccolos, Supplement a l'Anthologie grecque, contenant des epigrammes et autres
poesies legires inedites (Paris, 1853), 243-4; L. Sternbach, 'Analecta Byzantina', Ceski Museum
Filologicke 6 (1900), 308-14; F. Scheidweiler, 'Studien zu Johannes Geometres', BZ 45 (1952),
279, 281-2, 284, and 286.
a critical edition, which I am currently preparing, I very recently published

a secondary witness of the Metaphrasis, namely a paraphrase of it, written
in 518 dodecasyllables by an author unknown to us, and preserved in only
one manuscript, the sixteenth-century Par. gr. 21A3, written by Jacobos
Diassorinos13. Furthermore, basing myself on all the contributions men
tioned and on a study of the complete manuscript tradition, I was able to
propose a list of corrections to the Cramer text14. The following are some
examples15.
• 352,18: tXq xelxo<; £ppdynaav at peuaxai cpuaei<; [£ppdynaav
ABCDÊFGHI LacMNOQRS, £pdynaav DacV, £Ttdynaav L^P] - The
verb £ppdynaav should, as F. Scheidweiler has shown16, be changed into
£cppdyncrav: £ppdynaav ('broke') does not correspond to Ex. 15:8b: 'the
waters stood like a mound', while £cppdyncrav (with a very probable con
fusion between pp and cpp) can be translated as 'the waters were dammed
up like walls'. The reading £rcdyr)crav is metrically a correction for the
worse.
• 353,8: after d)8r| p\ indicating the beginning of the second ode, the fol
lowing title must be put in: Nouou rcdA,iv ypacpevxo<; <$8r\ Mcoaeax; [ita
AFHLMPS, ... ypacpevxa ... BDEGNOQR, om. CIV] - Other omissions
occur: (a) after 356,14 the title "Avvt|<; lauouf)A, unxpoc, efixapiaxia, (b)
after 364,4, two verses: dx; euXoynjo<; £v Gpovco xou ctou kA,eou<; I imep
\ieXoq Ttdv, uuvov, vyoq Kai xpovov, (c) after 364,10 the title "Yuvoi;
xcov aocpcov vecov auGii; Kai co8e, (d) after 364,22 four verses: xd rce^d,
xd rcxepand, rcdv yfj<; Gr|piov, I 6\|/oCxe, 8o^dôixe uexpi xepudxcov,
I uloi Ppoxrav anavteq, To-paf)A, anaq, I Cn|/oCxe, 8o^dôixe uexpi
xepudxcov.
• 354,18: Aarabv xov xeKovxa Kai aa%ovxd ae [Xinbv 8e FV, A,utcbv 8e
cett.} - The verse has only eleven syllables; 8e must be inserted after A,utcbv.
Similar cases are: (a) 355,12: Geoi ydp auxcov oi)8ev iaoi <xa» uovco, (b)
355,22: Kpwei <ydp> auxoix; KCpio<;, Kai xoii; A,dxpaii;, (c) 363,3:
^.f|V|/oi<xo> xo rcpoacorcov atxcov alaxuvr|.
• 354,22: rcpoaamov I8ou, xol<; axpacpeTm xd<; cppevai; [i8ou codd.] - This
is clearly a case of itacism, as F. Scheidweiler has shown17 and is to be
rewritten as f|86; cf. 355,23: dcpGaXudv fi8uv.
13 M. De Groote, 'The Paraphrasis of Joannes Geometres' Metaphrasis of the Odes', GRBS

43 (2002), 267-304.
14 M. De Groote, 'Der byzantinische Zwolfsilber in Joannes Geometres' Metaphrase der
Oden', BZ 96 (2003), 73-81. These corrections have been taken into account in all quota
tions.
15 The readings of the manuscripts are listed between square brackets. For the sigla, see note
8. Abbreviations: "* = ante correctionem, ■* = post correctionem.
16 Scheidweiler, 279.
17 Scheidweiler, 281.
300 M. De Groote
• 357,14: el<; oupavou<; dvfjA,Ge Kupio<;, Ppovxp \ieya [eic, ofipavov B, eiq
oupavoix; cett.] - Hypermetrical verse (fourteen syllables); in my opion the
reading of the paraphrase, v. 220, should be adopted, that is noXovb' ('heav
enwards')18.
• 358,1: earr\q, £rceiaGr| xGcbv, eTteioe<;, xf|Kexai [eaeiaGr| BCDEFHLM
NOPQRV, aeiaGr| G, £rceiaGr| IS] - The meaning of the author cannot
have been that the earth was 'persuaded', because Hab. 3:6 speaks about
making the earth tremble. The right reading is evidently £cteio-Gt| as Cramer
already suspected.
• 360,6-7: xikxei rcveCua jr\q acoxr|pia<;. ou8el rceaetxai naq xiq 6
PA,eTkov avco [ou8i BacDNOR, 06 8f| BÊGHL^MPQ, ou8e FLac, ou8ei
IS] - An incomprehensible passage, not corresponding with Is. 26:18:
'Salvation we have not achieved for the earth'. What Geometres really
meant was an interrogative sentence, followed by the emphatic answer
'Not at all': xikxei TtveCua xfj<; acoxr|pia<;; oO 8ty Tteaeixai naq xiq 6
PA,erccov avco.
• 360,31: dvercxepcbGr|v vuv Xax&v xov 8earcoxr|v [vCv XaPabv IS, vap
XaPabv cett.] - Aaxdbv is an incorrect reading by Cramer, for all manu
scripts undoubtedly have A,aPcbv. Considering vCv, one observes that Ion.
2:8 has 'When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord'; so vap
is more probable.
Focusing on the metaphrastic technique Geometres uses, one finds that only
up to a certain degree is the source text faithfully followed. Where this is not
the case, various alterations can be observed.
(a) Sometimes the author uses words that are mostly, if not exclusively,
used in poetry, such as ekKoutcci^co (355,27), 'boast loudly', a word for which
Soph., El. 569 is the only parallel; uiaicpovo<; (361,26), 'bloodthirsty', 'mur
derous', in Homer always an epithet of Ares; the active gePco (364,29), 'wor
ship', 'honour'. In other cases Geometres uses poetical paraphrases: QdXaaaa
> GaA,aaaia xxxnq (352,10), xa O8axa > peuaxai cpuaeii; (352,18), neaov
zr\q QaXaoor]q > uypa xvaiq (353,6), aina > ppoxsia ai'uaxa (356,8), 6
fjlio<; > cpcoxoQ apxcov (358,14).
(b) In a number of cases the author changes the original order of the
source text: Ex. 15:6b = 352,15; 8a = 352,16; 8b = 352,18; 19b = 353,6-7.
Deut. 32:4b = 353,14; 5b = 353,16. Dan. 3:27b = 361,12b-13; 27c =
361,1 lb-12a.
(c) Some passages are even tacitly omitted: Ex. 15:3, 5, 6a, 7, 8c, 12a, 15a,
15c-16a, 18, 19a. Deut. 32:3-4a, 5a, 6a, 12, 16, 20b-21, 43e-h. I Reg. 2:le,
10b,f-h. Hab. 3:3a, 5b, lOd. Is. 26:13c. Ion. 2:5b. Dan. 3:55, 59, 61, 68, 88c-
89. Luc. 1:51b, 54b.
Cf. De Groote, 'Paraphrasis', 278.

(d) Very often, the source text is extended. In some cases, these extensions
are limited to simple additions of one or a few words:
Ex. 15:1b: (krconeV xco Kupico 352,7: gaconev d)8f|v xcp Kpaxaico
Kupico
Deut. 32:23a: auvoi^co eiq aOxoix; 354,25 : Kai rcdv auvdi;co 8eivov el<;
K(ZK& auxoix; xa%oq
Deut. 32:27a: 6Y 6pyf|v exGpa>v 355,2: Si' 6pyf|v PapPdpcov
Ttapacpp6vcov
Deut. 32:27c: eiTkoctiv 355,4: Kai KonTtaacoai Kai A,aXf|acoai
peya
I Reg. 2:4a: xoôv ouvaxrov 356,25: xoôv Kpaxaicov n,aGevr|aev
f|aGevnaev el<; xeA,o<;
I Reg. 2: lOj: abxbq Kpivei aKpa yf\q 357,15: £i; uaxepou yfj<; aKpa Kpivr|
C7l)V 8iKr)
Hab. 3:6b: Kai 8iexdKr| £Gvr| 358,lb-2a: xf|Kexai £Gvn Kpaxaia
Hab. 3:9d: rcoxancov f>ayf|aexai yfj 358,10: payf|aexai yfi, vapaxcov
deippuxcov
Ion. 2:6b: iifivaaoq ekukXaxje pe 360,25: aPuaao<; fiaxaxr) pe kukA,oi
xov xdXav
Elsewhere major additions are found, sometimes specifying the Bible text,
sometimes leading to auxesis, for example:
Ex. 15:2a: PonGo<; Kai cnceTtaaxf|i; 352,1 1f: ouxo<; Por|G6<; Kai OTcercaaxfi<;
ey£Vexo noi eiq acoxnpiav Kai rcpono<;, axpecpK>v xd 8eivd rcdvxa
npbq acoxnpiav
Deut. 32:4c-d: Qebq maxbq, Kai o6k 353, 12f: elq Eaxiv f|pw, elq Qebq,
ectxiv d8tKia- 8iKaioi; Kai 6ctio<^ Qebq uovo<;, aocpoq, 8iKaio<;, nicxbq,
KUpiO<; loxupo<; novo<;
Deut. 32:6c-d: oOk auxo<; ouxo<; ctou 353,18-21: ouk auxoc; ouxo<; acopa adv
Ttaxf|p eKxf|aax6 ae Kai STtoirio-eV ae SianXaaaq Kai xEpcl rcf|Jjac, Ka^
Kai ekxictev ae; 8iapGpcoaa<; peXr|, ulov xe xd£a<; Kai
Ttaxfip KeK^.r|neVO<;, dpxrjV xe a0l
8ou<; xcov 6pconeVcoV otaov;
Deut. 32:35c-d: oxi syyu<; fipepa 355,20f: 6 Kaipo<; eyyu<;, f|Kovr|xai xo
draoXeia<; aftxcov, Kai rcdpeaxiv îcpo<;- xo xoôv fivxexaKa, xfj veupg
exoipa untv fieXoq
Deut. 32:39b: Kai of)K ectxtv Geo<; 355,32: o6k ectxi, Kav 8pdnnxe yfi,v xe
TtXnv finoC Kai nbXov
I Reg. 2:3a-b: nf| KauxdoGe Kai nf| 356,20b-22: xobq tmepKonrcoui; Xbyovq
302 M. De Groote
XdXeixe b\\n\Xd, nfj eêXMxco eKKXivexco rcd<;, ur|8e xeiXecov Ttporj

ueyaôppnuoauvr| £k xou ctxouaxo<; |xr|8' 6yKov apr|, uf| cppecri, uf| Kap8ia
uucov
Hab. 3:5a: Ttpo TtpoacOTtou auxou 357,32f: ou Ttpo TtpoacbTtou
Ttopeuaexai Xoyoq eKTtopeuaexai Xoyoc;, TtaiSeuxiKf|
H&xaipa, 8iaxouov £icpo<;
Is. 26:14b: Sia xouxo inr\yaysq Kai 359,29f: dvG' cov eTtaêi<;, ec/>X.o6peu-
&nd>Xeaaq Kai rjpa<; Ttav apaev auxcov oei<j, aprji; Ttav apaev auxcov Kai
Kaxdêi<; el<; xdcpov
Ion. 2:10a: eycb §e nexd cpcovfji; 361,2f: eycb 8e Guctco 86£av, aivov
alveaecoi; Kai e%ouoXoyf|aeco<; Guctco xeiXecov, 8dKpu, Ttpoaeuxf>v,
ctoi auvxpiPnv xf|<; Kap8iac;
Dan. 3:26: euXoynxoc; el, Kupie 6 361,8-10: co<; euXoyr|xoi;, aivexo<;,
Geo<; xcov Ttaxepcov f|ucov, Kai alvexo<;, 8orr|<; yeucov Geoc, TtecpuKa<;, 6 Ttpiv
Kai 8e8o£aauevov xo ovoud ctou el<; dcpGeicj Ttaxpaai, Geo<; Kpaxaio<;,
xou<; alcovac; eppuexo<j, olKxipucov yeucov
Dan. 3:28c: Kai eTti xf)v Tt6A.iv xfiv 361,15-16: f|uiv xe Kai ctou xfj
dyiav xf|v xcov Ttaxepcov fiucov TtavoXpicp TtoXei, TtoXei Kpaxaigt,
'IepouaaA.f| n cpiXxdxcov ctou Ttaxpi8i
Dan. 3:33b: alaxuvr| Kai ovei8o<; 361,30f: %Xei>j\, yeXcocj, 6vei6o<;,
eyevf|Gr| xot<; 8ouA,oicj ctou Kai xoi<; alaxuvri, KoTtpo<; Ttaoi 8iKaicocj ctoicj
aePouevou; ere Kaxeo'xr|Liev ^dxpaicj
Dan. 3:38a: Kai ouk Sctxiv ev xcp Kaipcp 362, 12f: ouk £ctxw dpxcov, ou
xouxcp ap/cov Kai Ttpocpf|xr|<; Kai Ttpocpf|xr|<; ou8e xicj Ttoiuf|v, 8iKaaxf|cj,
fiyouuevo<; lepeu<;, axpaxT]yexr|cj
Dan. 3:42b-c: Kaxa xfiv ercieiKeidv 362,32b-33: ola xpr|ax6<; xfiv cpuaiv,
ctou Kai Kaxa xo TtXfjGo<; xoC eXeoui; Ttpdo<;, Ttpoar|vf|cj, iXecocj, oiKxou
aOU yeucov
Dan. 3:51: xoxe ol xpei<; co<; it, evo<; 363,27-31: xoxe Kpoxouvxecj euaePco<;
ctxouaxo<; uuvouv Kai e86âôv Kai ol xpeicj Sua uip xe ytaoaarj Kai uici
euXoyouv xov Geov ev xfj Kauivcp TtpoGuuici TtX.eK0vxe<; fjaav alvov,
Xeyovxe<; uuvouv, euXoyouv, elxov xopeiav,
f|8ov euxapiaxiav Kai xauxa xepTtvcov
eêcpebvouv xeiXecov
Dan. 3:52a-b: euXoynxdcj el, Kupie 6 363,32-364,2: cbe, euXoynxoc;, foq
Qebq xcov Ttaxepcov fiucov, Kai alvexocj ULivr|xo<;, cb<; ueyai; Geoi; Kpaxaio<;,
Kai uTtepu\|/ouuevo<; el<; xoix; alcovac; Kupio<; TtavxoKpdxcop, Geo<; TtaX.atoi;
xcov TtdXai yewnxopcov, uyriXd<;
u\)/oui; Ttavxo<;, alebvcov avco
Luc. 1:47: Kai fiyaXXiaoev xo Ttveuud 365,3b-4: xo Ttveuud uou, dyaXXia,
uou eTti xcp Gecp xcp acoxfjpi uou xopeue, xaiPe Kai Kpoxei
(e) Conversely, the source text is sometimes summarized, which can lead to
meiosis, for example:
Ex. 15:4: apuaxa Oapacb Kai xtjv 352,17: SKpuye Ttovxo<; eKKprtoui;
8uvaniv auxoC eppiyev eiq lrcTtriXdxa<;
GdXacraav, etuXekxovq dvapdxai;
xpiaxaxa<; KaxeTtovxioeV ev epuGpg
GaXdcrar|
Ex. 15:9 + 10a + 11: eIkev 6 ExGpo<; 352,19: yXcbaaaq \ieyiaxaq elXeq,
Awbâ<; KaxaXr|uyouai, uepia> aKvXa, 6cppuv Pappdpcov
euTt^f|aco yv%r\v uou, AveXa xij
uaxaipg uou, Kupieuaei f| xeip nou.
&ne<rzeiXaq xo TtveOud oou, eKdXuyev
auxOu<; OdXaaoa ... xi<; 6uoio<; aoi ev
Geoi<;, Kupie; xi? 6uoio<; ooi,8e8oi;aa-
uevo<; ev dyioi<;, GauuaaxOi; ev
86£aii;, Ttoicov xepaxa;
Deut. 32: 15a-b: Kai gcpayev 'IaKcbp 354,12: TcXr|aGei<; 'IaKcbp eêA,okxicte
Kai ivEnXr\oQr\, Kai dTteXdKxioev 6 ueya
f|yarcr|HeVo<;
Deut. 32:26b: rcauo-oo Sf) e^ dvGpcbrccov 355,1b: Gf|oco vcovuuou<;
xo uvr|(i6auvov auxcov
Deut. 32:40b-c: Kai duouuai xr\v 356,2b: xouxo 8' duvuco
8eîdv nou Kai epa>
Deut. 32:42c-d: dcp' aiuaxOi; 356,10: ouxco axpaxnyf|aavxo<; apxi
xpaunaxicov Kai alxuaXrooia<;, duo KUplOU
KE(f>aXf\c, dpxovxcov ExGpaiv (sc.
ueGucta) xd PeA,r| uou)
Hab. 3:7: dvxi koTkdv eioov 358,4: Ttd<; eTtxof|Gri Ma8id(x, naq
OKrivcbuaxa AIGtoTccov Ttxor|Gf|aovxai AlGioy
Kai al aKr)vai yf\q Ma8idu
Hab. 3:18-19a: £ycb 8e ev xo> Kupicp 359,6: enoi 8e 86â Kupio<;, xaPa>
dyaXXidaouai, xapr|o-ouai zni xg> ctGevo<;
Geco xo) acoxfjpi uou. Kupioc; 6 Geo<;
8uvauic; uou
Dan. 3:27a: 6xi 8iKaio<; e! eTti Ttdoiv, 361,11a: 8iKaio<; el xd rcdvxa
ol<; eTtoir|o-ai;
Dan. 3:38b: ou8e &XOKauxcaaii; ou8e 362,14: ou Guuiaua, rcpooxpopd Kai
Guaia ou5e rcpooxpopd ou8e Guuiaua Guoia
Dan. 3:46: Kai ou 8ie1ehtov ol 363,9-1 la: ol 8' iâXovxeq el?
euPaXovxei; auxou<; imnpexai xou Kduivov xou<; veou<; pdXXovxei; ouk
PaoiA.e<D<; koIovxei; xtjv Kdnivov gXeutov olorcep xf|v cpX,6ya eiq uyo<;
vdcp6av Kai Ttiaoav Kai axiTtrcuov Kai fipov
KXrmaxi8a
Luc. 1:79a: xoii; ev otcoxei Kai orad 366,1b: ol Ka6f|uevoi ctkoxei
Gavdxou KaGnnevoi<;
304 M. De Groote
(f) For some passages in the Metaphrasis no parallels, it seems, can be

found in the Bible; apparently, the author gives proof here of his innovative
character. Examples are:
after Deut. 32:6b 353,17: rcokov KaXcov xivoixn Kupicp yepa;

after Deut. 32:10b 353,30: Ttnyr|v peouo-av xf|v avu8pov 8eikvuei
after Deut. 32:40c 356,4: £raf| 8e uaXXov Kai Ttvof| rcdvxoov eqrov
before I Reg. 2:3 356,20a: xaux' ouv bp&vxeq
after I Reg. 2:8b 357,3b: kukXakok; Ttdvxa axpecpei
after I Reg. 2:9b 357,6b: 8iScooiv euexnpiav
after I Reg. 2:10c 357,11b: Ttdvxa pel, rcdvxa axpecpei19
after I Reg. 2: lOe 357, 12f: cpoPoc, GeoC Pepaiov ev pira uovov, xfj<; dpexfj<; f|
Kxfjaac, ob Gvr|aKet xpovco
after Hab. 3:11a 358,14b: &>q napiKnevae Kdxco
after Hab. 3:16b 358,28b: Kai xo ueM.ov npo^Xstta
after Is. 26:10a 359,17a: fjaxpa\|/e xpio'xo<;
after Dan. 3 : 35a 362,3: af|v KXfjoiv al8eaGr|xi Kai xf|v of)v cpuouv
after Dan. 3:35d 362,5b: xpelc,, f| xpidc,, npeafieiq 8e%ov
after Dan. 3:41 362,29b-30: cooTtep eKTterc^.r|yuevoi, 8piuei<; ipaaxai aot
Pocouev Ik pdGouc,
before Dan. 3:42 362,31a: uf| 8f| napoyq
before Dan. 3:46 363,8: ol xpei<; uev ouxcdc, efiaePei<; veaviai
after Dan. 3:49 363,17-18: ouxoc, paTtiêt xf|v Kduivov kukX6Gev, cpai8poc,
picpeiai xoTi; veoic, eic, xf|v cpX6ya
after Dan. 3:50a 363,22-24: xo TtCp uepiaGev cpcoc, Ttapeixe xoii; veoic,, xo
Kai)axiKov 8e xoic, dvd\|/aai uovoic,, auveixev 6>q GdXauoc.
f|8i)<; xouc, veouc.
after Dan. 3:50b 363,26: 8eo-uouc, fiKauae, xcov xpt/a>v &n£c%£zo
after Dan. 3:88 364,27-28: axTcpo<; Ttpocpr|xcov, uapxupcov, drcoaxoA,cov,
6\(/oCxe, 8o^dôixe uexpi xepudxcov xov cpuvxa, xov
cpuevxa, rcveOua, xd xpia
after Luc. 1:48a 365,7: xeGetKe Gauua xf\c, 6Xr|c, otKouuevnc,
As I mentioned earlier, Joannes Geometres should be considered as a pre

cursor of a period in which authors would no longer restrict themselves to col
lecting and preserving the literary legacy of their predecessors. The Metaphra
sis Odarum shows how the poet, by reshaping his source text, succeeded in
leaving us a work which can deservedly be called a new creation.
19 Cf. Herakleitos, Test. 1 and 6 (ed. H. Diels and W. Kranz, Die Fragmente der Vor-
sokratiker, 8th edn., I (Berlin, 1956), 141,19-20 and 145,27).
The Treatise on the Priesthood by
Symeon of Thessalonica
Job Getcha, Paris
Symeon of Thessalonica as a Hesychast Writer
The studies of D. Balfour, published between 1979 and 198 11, brought us
new evidence about the figure and the work of Symeon of Thessalonica. Until
then, we knew very little about his life2, of which the main elements were pro
vided by the details contained in his writings. These were mainly studied by
liturgists, who have often criticised Symeon's exaggerated symbolism. Never
theless, R. Bornert has emphasised that the various judgements which were
formulated about him represent distortions3. The unpublished documents dis
covered by Balfour now allow us to present a more detailed biography4.
Symeon of Thessalonica was born in the second half of the fourteenth cen
tury, in Constantinople. At a very early age, he embraced the monastic life. As
a hieromonk, he was elected Archbishop of Thessalonica, if we base ourselves
on the title of his Treatise on the Priesthood. We believe that he received the
name of Symeon Metaphrastes at his monastic tonsure. This explains why he
wrote a considerable hymnography in honour of this saint, since he had a great
devotion for him.
A contemporary of Kallistos and Ignatios Xanthopouloi, who apparently
exercised a great influence on him during his youth, Symeon was probably
their disciple in a hesychast monastic milieu which we now call the 'Xan
thopouloi Monastery'. Recent studies by D. Balfour have confirmed Symeon's
dependence on hesychast spirituality. In this monastic milieu, Symeon
received a solid spiritual and ascetic formation. It seems that in his youth he
1 D. Balfour, Politico-Historical Works of Symeon, Archbishop of Thessalonica, Wiener

byzantinische Studien 13 (Vienna, 1979); 'Ayiov Zvpemv 'Apxiemcnconov dsoaaXoviKnc,
Epya GeoAoyiKa, Analecta Vlatadon 34 (Thessalonica, 1981); 'St. Symeon of Thessalonica: a
Polemical Hesychast', Sobornost 4 (1982), 6-21; 'Saint Symeon of Thessalonike as a Historical
Personality', Greek Orthodox Theological Review 28 (1983), 55-72.
2 Cf. M. Jugie, 'Symeon de Thessalonique', DTC 14/2 (1941), 2976-84.
3 R. Bornert, Les commentaires byzantins de la Divine Liturgie du Vlle au XVe sie~cle (Paris,
1966), p. 245.
4 Our biography of Symeon is based on the following studies: M.-H. Congourdeau, 'Symeon
de Thessalonique', DSp 14 (1990), 1401-7; S. Garnier, Symeon de Thessalonique et l'office
asmatique ('DEA' thesis defended at the Ecole pratique des hautes etudes (Paris), Section des
sciences religieuses, Paris, 1999-2000), pp. 9-35.
306 J. Getcha
would never study anything other than grammar and theology. The Xan-
thopouloi circle thus offered to the young Symeon access to the imperial
palace and to the patriarchal court, which made of him a convinced Palamite,
brought him close to emperor Manuel II, and made him familiar with the Great
Church and its patriarchal liturgy.
Symeon thus conducted in Constantinople an ascetic life which gave him
the reputation of a man inspired by God. From this we can understand the lack
of interest on his part in personal progress in the ecclesiastical hierarchy. He
had a very high esteem for the priesthood, and he never forgot the eminent
dignity that such a ministry requires. It seems that he awaited the canonical
age of thirty to be ordained.
Symeon became Archbishop of Thessalonica in 1416-17. He took this ele
vation to be a great misfortune. This genuine hesychast had to quit his humble,
peaceful, and contemplative life to take care of a diocese that was undergoing
many difficulties. Indeed, Thessalonica had known a first Ottoman occupation
from 1387 until 1403. Soon after Symeon's arrival, Mourad II tried to occupy
the city once again, in 1422. Symeon tried to escape secretly from Thessa
lonica to Constantinople, in order to ask for the assistance of the emperor. But
because of the Ottoman offensive, he was obliged to return to his city, which
he never left again until his death. In the face of occupation, Symeon preached
faithfulness towards Byzantium. He helped his people, who were suffering
from famine and epidemics. He died suddenly in September 1429, six months
before the final fall of the city. Symeon was canonised by the Ecumenical
Patriarchate in 1981.
The Treatise on the Priesthood
Symeon's Treatise on the Priesthood was published by Migne in his

Patrologia graeca in Paris, in 1866 (PG 155, 953-76). This edition reprints
that prepared by Patriarch Dositheos of Jerusalem and published in Jassy in
1683 (pp. 370-8 of Dositheus' edition of Symeon; Dositheus' page numbers
are reproduced in Migne). It may belong to the writings of Symeon's youth.
The title tells us that it was written when its author was still a hieromonk and
was addressed to another monk newly ordained to the diaconate. It develops a
whole theology of the priesthood, which the author considers with great
esteem. M. Jugie emphasised that everything Symeon tells us about priesthood
- its sublime character, its functions, the virtues it requires - is in every aspect
excellent5.
Symeon underlines the necessity for priesthood to be in continuity with the
work of Christ. For him, the priest does not merely reproduce Christ's min
5 Jugie, 'Symeon de Thessalonique', col. 2979.

istry. He does not act in persona Christi. The priest is a type (xurco<;), a living
icon of Christ, which actualises and perpetuates the mystery of the divine
economy realised by the Incarnation of the Son of God.
Symeon's theology of priesthood is definitely eucharistic. The Eucharist is
founded on the unique sacrifice, offered once for all by Christ (Heb. 10:10-
14). As does every Greek Church Father, Symeon considers the Eucharist to
be a continuation of the Incarnation. Therefore, this sacrifice has to be contin
uously reactualised for the sanctification of Christians, in order that the mys
tery of salvation might be renewed among them. Thus, for Symeon, the Divine
Liturgy must be celebrated every day. For this, the Church needs priests, and
therefore priesthood is a necessity for the life of the Church.
Symeon reminds us of the virtues which are required by the priesthood. No
human being is worthy of priesthood by himself, since 'this work is beyond
the level of our dignity' (960A). No one is worthy a priori. Only God, by his
grace, can make us worthy. Symeon emphasises this aspect many times
throughout his treatise. Nevertheless, the priest has to make sure that he
answers to the moral and spiritual qualities of this great ministry that has been
granted to him by God's condescendence. For this, Symeon requires of the
priest purity of life. Thereby he can manifest his dignity of serving the Divine
Liturgy every day, in order to renew in the world the divine plan of salvation.
This treatise also considers the question of the celebrant's continence. We
know that the East and the West have adopted different positions with regard
to this subject. The West has imposed celibacy on priests so that they may cel
ebrate the Mass every day. In the East, usually only monastic priests are
required to celebrate the Liturgy every day, since married priests serve alter
nately, or only a few days in the week or in the month. Nevertheless, in his
treatise Symeon emphasises that to celebrate the liturgy every day is not an
exclusive obligation of monks:
May what has been said not appear to someone beyond reason, even the thought that
men living in the world with women may be placed in this ministry. For even with
monks, there very often occur not only nocturnal emissions but also, under the impulse
of the Evil One, machinations of numerous passions, among which we find anger and
rancour. The true priest must be detached from all these things. (973B)
Referring to the example of Saint Basil the Great, who used to serve the
Liturgy at least four times a week, Symeon requires the priest to celebrate it at
least twice a week, 'since this is not impossible even for those [living] in the
world. For them, as for monks, there is no excuse: they may purify themselves
beforehead through exercise, prayer, and confession during the [other] five
days [of the week]' (973C)6.
6 On this subject, unpublished texts recently edited by Balfour show that Symeon, once he
had become Archbishop of Thessalonica, did not hesitate to blame those of the Latin clergy who
308 J. Getcha
Liturgical Typology
Liturgical typology is the key which enables us to understand Symeon's

liturgical commentary. As R. Bornert has explained, the exegetical method
that discerned four meanings of scripture was used not only for the scriptures,
but for the liturgy as well. Corresponding to the letter in the scriptures, wor
ship is a memorial of an event in the past, the image of a present reality, and
the announcement of something to come in the future. The liturgical mystery
inscribes itself in a history of salvation and maintains multiple relations with
different phases of its realisation7.
We usually consider Symeon to be one of the last disciples of Dionysios the
Areopagite and Maximos the Confessor with regard to his mystagogy that uses
Alexandrian symbolism8. Nevertheless, his symbolic interpretation is founded
on typology, where ceremonies are types (xurcoi) or figures of hidden realities.
Symeon's liturgical typology is a representation of the mystery of salvation.
First of all, worship recalls and represents to us the major events of the divine
economy. For Symeon, Christ's mystery is the centre of the history of human
ity. His typology is thus Christological and ecclesiological. Worship becomes
a type or a figure which elevates us towards the archetype, giving us a knowl
edge of the divine revelation which is proportional to the soul's purification9.
Accordingly, Symeon considers that the sacramental and liturgical sign
includes four dimensions: the mystery prefigured in the Old Testament, its
manifestation by Christ, its representation in the Church by the liturgy, and its
fulfilment in the Heavenly Jerusalem10.
For instance, in the beginning of his treatise Symeon considers the earthly
liturgy as a type of the heavenly liturgy. The deacon does here on earth what
the angels do in the heavens (956C). Symeon offers a typological interpreta
tion of Isaiah's vision (Isa. 6:1-13), in which a Seraph holds in his hands a
burning coal which he has taken with pincers from the altar. In his interpreta
tion, the coal prefigures the Holy Gifts, as the pincers do the communion
spoon, and the Seraph does the celebrant (956B).
Nonetheless, for Symeon the earthly liturgy is not merely a type of the heav
enly liturgy. It also prefigures the salvation economy accomplished by Christ,
the archetype of every priesthood, since the priest perpetuates and actualises
both the work and the unique sacrifice of Christ:
Through the priesthood which is given to us, oh miracle, [he] comes through the mys
teries, manifests himself, gives himself, is borne, is conducted, and establishes himself;
continued to celebrate the Mass daily while openly taking male or female concubines. Cf. : Gar-
nier, Symeon, p. 17.
7 Bornert, Les commentaires byzantins, p. 36.
8 Ibid., p. 248.
9 Ibid., p. 250.
10 Ibid., p. 261.
he clothes himself, and gets angry, then he reconciles himself, makes himself
favourable, and is received. (957A)
From this typological perspective we can understand the following excerpt
from the treatise, one which reminds us of the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of
Pseudo-Dionisios :
For the bishop is the image of Jesus and, with him, the priest, since he celebrates the
mysteries. [With regard] to other charismata, the bishop is the image of the Father of
lights, from whom all grace is good and every gift is perfect, and because of this, he is
the one who illuminates. The priest, on his side, represents a type of superior orders.
[He is] the second light, the one who shares and performs the mysteries, and because
of this, he is the one who accomplishes them. And the deacon is the third order, a type
of the serving angels, who are always sent in favour of those who are prepared to
receive salvation. Thus, [the deacon] is the one who announces, the one who prepares,
and the one who serves. All are assistants of the One God: those who contemplate the
unique sacrifice, those who are in communion, co-corporal (auaacouoi) and co-glori
fied, and those who share it with others. (965B-C).
In this last passage, the hierarchical subordination of angels appears as in
the Dionysian tradition". Just as the first angelical order participates directly
in the divine light, as does the second through the first and the third through
the second, so the same occurs in the ecclesiastical hierarchy12. The bishop
bears the fullness of priesthood since he not only celebrates the mysteries, but
ordains clerics as well; and thus he cares for the needs of the Church. The
priest receives his ministry from the bishop who ordained him and who
bestows his responsibilities on him. Finally, the deacon serves as the assistant
of the other two13.
The Structure of the Treatise
Symeon's Treatise on the Priesthood begins by recalling Christ's com

mandment to love one another as he has loved us (Jn 13:34). This statute is
indeed at the basis of every ministry in the Church14. Symeon then addresses
11 Cf. Pseudo-Dionysios the Areopagite, The Heavenly Hierarchy (PG 3, 120-340), The
Ecclesiastical Hierarchy (PG 3, 396-568). French translation: M. De Gandillac, CEuvres com
pletes du Pseudo-Denys I'Areopogite (Paris, 1943), pp. 185-326.
12 Bornert, Les commentaires byzantins, p. 251.
13 Cf. On the Divine Temple, PG 155, 724D, 728D.
14 Cf. N. Afanassieff, 'Le pouvoir de l'amour' in Afanassieff, L'Eglise du Saint-Esprit, Cog-
itatio Fidei 83 (Paris, 1975), pp. 367-72. This author converges with Symeon's idea when he
writes, 'Cette k£nose procedait de la nature de Dieu qui est Amour, et le ministere du Christ fut
l'expression de l'amour kenotiquc. Cet amour est a la base de tous les ministeres de l'Eglise, car
elle ne peut avoir d'autre fondement que celui pose par Dieu. Le ministere du Christ sert d'icone
a tous ces ministeres'. (p. 368).
310 J. Getcha
himself to the monk who has been ordained into the diaconate, whose chiroto-
nia has enabled him to contemplate the mysteries directly (956B). In a few
lines, he explains the role of the deacon, who calls the gathered assembly to
prayer by the litanies and who holds in his hands the divine mysteries of the
Eucharist. Making use of types and antitypes, Symeon compares this ministry
to the service of the angels, since 'what these do in the highest, [the deacon]
does here below' (956C).
Using liturgical typology, Symeon arrives at the essential point of his trea
tise: priesthood inscribes itself in full continuity with the divine economy and
with the Incarnation itself. It was God's desire to unite himself with his crea
tures in order to save them, once they had freely fallen from him. The
eucharistic sacrifice actualises the unique sacrifice of Christ (cf. Heb. 10:10-
14) and thus, at every moment, it renews our salvation. From this it appears
that the Eucharist should be permanently celebrated on earth and that the priest
should be in a state to celebrate it daily. Thus, priests become
fathers of sons of God, workers in place of gods, those who remove sin and who
deliver souls. They are as well those who deliver from eternal bonds, who are the key-
bearers of Paradise, and who hold power in the matters of God. [Thus, they are] his co
workers for the salvation of men. (957B).
A man who is only 'earth, mould, and worms' (957A) is thereby made wor
thy, through the priesthood, of a ministry which is awesome even to the eyes
of angels. These latter 'shake, cover themselves, tremble, and look from the
highest at the things we accomplish' (957C) here below. Therefore, the earthly
liturgy appears as superior to and more frightening than the heavenly liturgy
itself since it stands in continuity with the divine economy. Like Saint Gregory
Palamas, Symeon is aware that God became incarnate for the salvation of men,
and by his exaltation humanity has been elevated higher than the heavenly
hosts15.
The priests are 'assistants and servants of these most divine and great [mys
teries]' (957C). From this it follows that the priest, whose ministry it is to take
away sins, must be sure to be free himself from all sin and all passion. Symeon
recalls the example of the Church Fathers who, like angels contemplating the
greatness of their service, fled from the priesthood, considering themselves
unworthy of this ministry. He reminds us that once they became worthy of it,
they made every effort to conduct their lives accordingly (957D).
Symeon states that the work of priesthood 'is beyond the level of our dig
nity' (960A). Nevertheless, he says that just as the Incarnation was necessary
for the salvation of mankind, so priesthood is indispensable, since it perpetu
ates and actualises the work of Christ, who could not remain eternally on earth
to work out man's regeneration
Cf. Gregory Palamas, Capita physica 38-39 (PG 150, 1145-8).

Since it was not possible for the Incarnate One to remain forever here below, since this
is not human nature, life having received a limit after condemnation, it was not possi
ble for mortals to see once again the flesh which he had made immortal by [His] death
- and even less so for wicked man, who had committed a fault - and to work out their
regeneration. (960D)
For Symeon, the priest is the living icon of Christ, a type which perpetuates
and actualises the work of the Archetype:
In his place, he establishes savers, makers of souls, and guides towards the heavens,
towards light and life; he raises up fathers, pastors, guardians, and priests, who have
acquired his power, not having become [priests] for themselves, nor by themselves, but
having been established in this [ministry] for the sake of others. (961B)
Symeon then gives in this perspective an interpretation of the priest's gar
ment. He presents the phelonion, covered by crosses, as an image of Christ's
kenosis. The Lord's voluntary abasement requires from the priest not only
purity but also humility. This, he says, explains why the Church has reserved
the episcopate to monks, since 'purity and reverence go more along with the
[monastic] habit' (964A). Nevertheless, he stresses that monks, as well as mar
ried people, are not exempt from passions. Some suffer from pride and pre
sumption, others from vanity and cupidity, others from anger and rancour; and
this explains why Christ's garment is torn (964B).
Thus, in conformity with the patristic tradition from which he took many
examples, Symeon underscores the fact that the priest should celebrate the
Divine Liturgy daily, or at least two to four times a week (973B). In order to
be in a state to serve, he needs to dominate or to flee from every passion. 'The
true priest is free from all these things' (973B). For that, he has to 'purify him
self ahead of time through exercise, prayer, and confession' (973C). The priest
has to try as much as possible to remain pure and to imitate Christ, his arche
type, in 'philanthropy, humility, mercy, love for all, peace, divine sharing of
gifts, and first of all, in communion and holiness' (976A).
Conclusion
These are the essential points of Symeon of Thessalonica's theology of

priesthood, as developed in his treatise. One can notice the familiarity of its
author with the entire patristic tradition, and especially with treatises on the
same topic, coming from the Golden Age of patristics, such as the Treatise on
the Priesthood by Saint John Chrysostom or the Second Logos of Saint Gre
gory the Theologian (Nazianzen). Above all, it is the theology of the Epistle to
the Hebrews and the Dionysian Corpus that have inspired Symeon in drafting
this treatise, where he makes abundant use of typology. These sources in par
ticular have defined the main lines of his theology.
312 J. Getcha
His theology of priesthood is founded specifically on the Incarnation of

Christ. This is what marks the originality of his work, where priesthood is
given a christocentric and eucharistic foundation. Throughout his Treatise on
the Priesthood, Symeon's insistence on the Incarnation which elevated the
earthly liturgy higher than its antitype, the heavenly liturgy - reminding us of
one of the fundamental themes of Palamas, the view of man as superior to the
angels - as well as his insistence on the necessity for man to be united to God
a leitmotif of hesychasm - show once more, after the studies of D. Balfour,
how deeply Symeon was associated with the hesychast movement.
Dionysius the Areopagite versus Aristotle?
The Two Points of Reference for Gregory Palamas in
Initial Confrontations with Barlaam the Calabrian
Julia Konstantinovsky, Oxford
Introduction
A persistent stance of modern historical scholarship has been that philoso

phy is to blame for all that ever went wrong in the fortunes of Christianity by
corrupting it into a form of Greek thought. This caricature does not come to
terms with the fact that philosophy in Late Antiquity and the so-called patris
tic age was not a homogeneous entity but a tapestry of many different colours
and strands, permeating the entire cultural climate of the Christian Empire.
The assumption underlying the Hellenization of Christianity thesis, however,
is that philosophy may be collocated with Platonism, Aristotelianism, Sto
icism, and fascination with Greek pagan culture, while Christianity is expected
to be biblical, Hebraic, and hermetically sealed off from the pernicious influ
ences of the Academies, the Lyceum, and the Stoa1.
This assumption has dominated the research into the fourteenth-century
controversy between the Athonite hieromonk Gregory Palamas and the courtly
theologian Barlaam the Calabrian. Cursory and tendentious accounts of the
controversy interpreted it as that between biblical and patristic theology, on the
one hand, and Western philosophy, on the other. As far as Barlaam the Cal-
abrian's philosophical stance is concerned, many and varied philosophical
allegiances have been put forward: Aristotelianism, nominal Platonism( ! ),
Augustinianism, Thomism, and Scotism2. This paper holds that this approach
is insufficiently nuanced and aims to open up perspectives for a reassessment
of the aspect of the debate concerning the relation of philosophy to theology.
I shall focus on the inception of the Palamas-Barlaam altercation, which is
the years 1335-36, and the letters exchanged between the opponents within
1 The epitome of this opinion is A. von Harnack, Dogmengeschichte.

2 Cf. G. Schird, Epistole greche. 1 primordi episodici e dottrinali delle lotte esicaste, Instituto
Siciliano di Studi Bizantini e Neogreci, Testi e monumenti: Testi 1 (Palermo, 1954); J. Meyen-
dorff, Introduction d l'etude de Gregoire Palamas, Patristica Sorbonensia 3 (Paris, 1959); idem.,
'Humanisme nominaliste et mystique chretienne a Byzance au XlVe siecle', NRTh 79 (1957),
905-14; idem., Byzantine Hesychasm: Historical, Theological and Social Problems (London,
1974); R.J. Loenertz, 'Dix-huit letters de Gregoire Akindyne analysees et datees', OCP 23
(1957); S. Yangazoglou, 'Philosophy and Theology: The Demonstrative Method in the Theology
of Saint Gregory Palamas', Greek Orthodox Theological Review 41 (1996), 1-18.
314 J. KONSTANTINOVSKY
this period. Despite the extensive treatment of the subject by R. Sinkewicz3,

there is ample room for a fresh approach. While it is undeniable that the debate
evolved and progressed - from the Filioque and the divine arche issue in the
participants' correspondence to that of the Thaboric experience and the hesy-
chast prayer, in the Triads and the formulations of the Palamite councils - it is
my contention that the experience of God was the issue at stake right from the
start. The paper will therefore draw upon the correspondence of 1335-36 only.
This is
1. Gregory Palamas' Letter to Akindynos I;
2. Palamas' Letters to Barlaam I and II; and
3. Barlaam's Letters to Palamas I and II.
Gregory Palamas' Apodeictic Syllogism
From the beginning of the controversy, Gregory Palamas asserts the value
of logical demonstration in theology, his obvious point of reference being ele
ments of Aristotle's logical demonstration4. In his Letter to Akindynos I5, he
points out that the syllogizing about God must be demonstrative or apodeictic
(drco8eiKxiKo<;) and not dialectic or speculative (8iaXeKxiKo<;).
The speculative syllogism is based on variable opinion. However, as Pala
mas sees it, the matter of God must not be one derived from mere opinion and
probability. Hence, is not the apodeictic syllogism authorized by the Church
Tradition and the Fathers? Even the Latins, despite their apodeictic syllogisms
being defective, are not to blame for their use of demonstration in their Tri-
adological argumentation6:
EuXXoyiaeo"Gai 8e tn\ xoiq xoiouxok; (that is, things divine) fipyco UTtd xcov Ttaxe-
pcov £8i8dx0r|uev kai ou8e xoui; Xaxivoui; ypd\|/aix' av xiq xouxou xdPlv-
We have been instructed by the Fathers to syllogize about things divine in deed, and
no one would write even against the Latins on account of this.
Aristotle's Formal Logic
Palamas' preference for the apodeictic rather than speculative syllogism in

theology stems from Aristotle's theory of scientific knowledge, that is, deduc
3 See R. Sinkewicz, 'The Doctrine of the Knowledge of God in the Initial Discussions
Between Barlaam the Calabrian and Gregory Palamas', (Doctoral Dissertation, Oxford, 1979).
4 Aristotle's main logical works are Prior Analytics, Posterior Analytics, Topics, De Sophis-
ticis Elenchis.
5 Gregory Palamas, Letter to Akindynos I.8.
Dionysius the Areopagite versus Aristotle? 315
ing the particular from the general and that which is caused from its cause. In
Aristotle, the essence of scientific knowledge is to know that
1. the cause from which the fact results is the cause of that fact, and
2. that the fact cannot be otherwise7.
According to Aristotle, the speculative syllogism proceeds from premises
that are 'true and primary' (rcpayccov Kai d>.r|Gcov), as opposed to the apodeic-
tic syllogism, which is from premises that are merely 'generally accepted' (it,
ev86!;a)v)8. The premises of the apodeictic syllogism do not admit of demon
stration, but are known by 'the first principle of knowledge' (arche epistemes,
nous, intuition)9. This intuitive knowledge, clearly, is experiential.
Gregory Palamas' Syllogism
On the basis of this logic and with reference to St Dionysius the Areopagite,
Gregory Palamas constructs his apodeictic syllogism:
Ei xic, xo UTtepouo"iov TtveC|ia cpuaei £pei ek xou GeoC, xo 8e cpuaei 6v Sk xoO GeoC
nr\yaL,ecsQai ek xoC Geou, xouxectxiv ek xfj<; rcr|yaiac, Ge6xr|xoc; xo eivai Sxeiv,
Ttr|yaia 8e Ge6xt|xoc, uovoc, 6 Ttaif|p, elia auurcepaivei cb<; ek uovou xou rcaxpoc,
eOxl xO TCVeOlia10.
If someone says that the super-essential Spirit is by nature from God, and that that
which is by nature from God has its source from God, that is, has its being from the
source of divinity, [given that] the Father alone is the source of divinity, it follows that
the Spirit is from the Father alone.
Palamas considers this syllogism properly constructed because its premises
hold true, while the negations of the premises are false; the premises are
always what they are; they are the first things (protai) and unmediated (ame-
sai), in the sense that they are immediately and intuitively grasped rather than
deduced, and well-known (gnorimoterai); they contain within themselves the
conclusion; they are based upon the sure and indemonstrable and most sover
eign (archoeidestaten) principle (arche)n.
Gregory Palamas' Premises
Like that of Aristotle, Gregory Palamas' epistemology is realist: in other

words, his demonstration is an analysis of human thought in its thinking about
extramental reality.
7 Cf. Aristotle, An. Post. 0.19, 100b.
8 Cf. Topics, I, 100 ab. See also An. Pr. I.1, 24ab.
9 Cf. An. Post. 13, 72b; 1I.19.
10 Gregory Palamas, Letter to Akindynos I.11. Cf. Dionysius the Areopagite, Divine Names
2.5,2.7.
11 Gregory Palamas, Letter to Akindynos I. 11.
In Gregory Palamas' theological apodeictic syllogism, the premises are sup

plied by the divinely transmitted words and concepts (xd GeOrcapd8oxa
pf|uaxa Kai vof|naxa)12, which are the truths contained in the scripture and in
the writings of Church Fathers like the Apostle Paul and Dionysius the Are-
opagite13. What are these divinely transmitted words and concepts and how are
they known?
In apodeictic syllogizing, Aristotle distinguishes between
(1) the universal principles intuitively grasped by the nous - the premises;
and
(2) that which follows necessarily from the axioms - things demonstrated14.
For Gregory Palamas, the first has to do with the things around God that are
intuitively grasped by the nous and are participated in. These realities are
indemonstrable and are the premises of theological demonstration The second
is the things about the divine that are demonstrable and are subject of scientific
knowledge. Gregory Palamas also introduces another dimension, logically
prior to (1) and (2), that of God's transcendence. These are things in God that
are indemonstrable, unknowable, and imparticipable. This division correlates
in a particular way with the traditional patristic, and Palamas' own, distinction
between the unknowable divine essence and the knowable divine energies.
Distinctions in God
Thus, on the distinction between things in God that are knowable and those
that are unknowable Palamas writes,
Ti uev yap saxi 6 Qeoq, ou8ei<; rccorcoxe xcov eu cppovouvxcov oCx' eutev oOx'
e£f|xr|aev, oux' fivevvanoev. "Oxi 8e eaxi Kai oxi eiq eoxi Kai oxi oux §v ectxi Kai
oxi xf)v xpid8a oux {otepPePt|ke Kai noXX' gxepa xa>v rcepi auxov Gecopouuevcov,
£axi Cnxfjaai xe Kai dTto8eiâi15.
For what God is, no one of those who think well has ever uttered or sought out or con
ceived. That [God] exists, however, and that he is one [masc] and not one [neut.] and
that he has not surpassed the Trinity and many others of the things that are
thought/seen about him is to be sought and demonstrated.
Further:
xd uev dpa xou 6eoC yivcooTcexai, xa §e ^nxfjxai, eoxi 8' a Kai dTto8eiKvuxai,
gxepa 8e eIctiv dTtepiv6r|xa rcdvxn Kai dveêpeuvnxa' Tporax; yevvf|aeco<;.

13 See also Gregory Palamas, Letter to Barlaam 1I.13,40.
14 Cf. Aristotle, Topics I, 100 ab.
£KTtopeucteax;, xeA,eiac, &\ia kai &veK<poixf|xoi> TtpoeX.euaeca<;, &8iaipexou xe aua

Kai xeXeiai; 8iaipeaeux;, Kai x' aXX' a>v 8id niazeox; eTticTxnu6vcuc, exouev16.
Some things of God are known; some are sought; and there are things that are even
demonstrated. Other things are altogether inconceivable and are not searched out.
[These are] the manner of begottenness, of procession, of the perfect and unspeakable
going forth, which is undivided and at the same time of perfect division, and other
things of which we have knowledge through faith.
Further on Palamas states, 'Should anyone say that demonstration is from
prior things (£k xcov rcpcoxepcov), yet there is nothing prior to God [that is, log
ically and ontologically], we shall say to him that we examine not the things
of God (xa Kax' afrxov), but some of the things around him (xi xcov rcepi
auxov')17. Thus 'the divinely transmitted words and concepts' that supply the
premises for demonstration are also 'some of the things around God', that is,
the divine energies.
Premises, Faith, and Sense Perception
At the same time Palamas points out that those divine things that are known
beyond demonstration and provide the archai and premises for demonstration,
are known through faith (in the Scripture and the sayings of the Fathers)18.
Further, not unlike Aristotle, who suggested that the knowledge of the univer
sal premises can be by induction from sense perception19, Palamas draws an
analogy between faith - which supplies premises for the theological apodeic-
tic syllogism - and sense perception: 'For as sense perception (ai'c>Gr|m<;)
does not require demonstration, nor does faith in these things [that is, the
indemonstrable things of God] require demonstration'. He also speaks of the
'true vision of God' (f| dlr|Gf| GeoC Geropia), which is 'the prize for the faith'
and 'comes about through love'20. In a true Aristotelian fashion, he thus collo
cates faith with knowledge by participation as the source of premises for the
apodeictic syllogism. When Palamas, therefore, calls upon Barlaam to change
his opinion that faith about the things of God is divorced from demonstration,
his meaning is also that the source of the articles of faith - which supply
premises for demonstration - is experience of divine grace21. This clearly links
biblical revelation and experiential knowledge.
16 Ibid.
19 Cf. Aristotle, Anal. Post. I.31.
20 Gregory Palamas, Letter to Barlaam 1I.11.
21 Cf. Gregory Palamas, Letter to Barlaam 1I.11.
Dionysius the Areopagite
While both Barlaam and Gregory Palamas claim Dionysius the Areopagite
as their authority, their interpretations of him are vastly different. Barlaam
bends his Areopagitic evidence by citing only the apophatic half in Dionysian
apophatically cataphatic and cataphatically apophatic linguistic pairings. A
telling example of this is Barlaam's citing Mystical Theology V22 as a testi
mony that God is unspeakable (and therefore unknowable), whereupon Bar
laam ignores the Dionysian statement that 'we make assertions and denials of
what is next to it, but never of it, for it is both beyond every assertion . . . and
... also beyond every denial'23.
By contrast, Gregory Palamas cites Dionysius as a patristic authority who
professes distinctions in God other than those Barlaam is aware of and thus
different kinds of knowledge of God, including experiential24:
6 Ged<; Kai 8id yva>aecoc, yivcboKexai Kai 8t" dyvcoaiai;, Kai £cmv atixou Kai von-
aic. Kai X6yo<; Kai £kicxt\\it\ Kai fircacpf) Kai aiaOr|af|c, Kai 86â Kai cpavxaaia Kai
6voua Kai zaXXa Ttdvxa.
He is known through knowledge and through unknowing. Of him there is conception,
reason, understanding, touch, perception, opinion, imagination, name, and all other
things.
Conclusions
This paper concludes that Palamas is at least as interested in and knowl

edgeable of Aristotelian logic as Barlaam or any Western scholastic. Being a
man of his age, Palamas used Aristotle as an intellectual framework for his
own philosophical theology. Crucially, Palamas' syllogizing is at the service
of Christian dogmatic theology and epistemology, and as such pursues theo
logical purposes of its own. Palamas therefore uses Aristotle creatively and
transforms him. Despite this, there is clearly a sense in which, inasmuch as his
philosophy coincided with that of Aristotle, Gregory Palamas was an Aris
totelian.
The latter is true for Barlaam of Calabria. Barlaam differs from Palamas,
however, in that he categorically denied the applicability of demonstration to
theology and designated demonstration for the natural world only. This view
of Barlaam's was not on account of his Aristotelianism, but rather because
Barlaam was convinced that there could be no access to the divine except in
22 Barlaam the Calabrian, First Letter to Gregory Palamas, ed. G. Schiro, p. 231.
23 Dionysius the Areopagite, Mystical Theology 5 (PG 3, 1048 b). See also Barlaam's citation
in his Letter to Palamas I of Mystical Theology 4; Divine Names 5.1, 13.3.
24 Dionysius the Areopagite, Divine Names 7.3, cited in Palamas' Letter to Barlaam 1I.11.
the form of linguistic propositions learned from scripture and patristic writ
ings. For Barlaam, the universal premises for the apodeictic syllogism are
inherent in the soul and are copies of the creative universals in the mind of
God. The universals are awakened in the soul from sense perception. Since,
however, you cannot have perception of God, there is nothing in the soul to be
awakened about God, and you cannot syllogize about him25.
It is my contention, therefore, that, rather than being a dispute between Bib
lical theology and Aristotelian or other philosophy, the Palamas-Barlaam
quarrel was from the beginning a clash of two opposing philosophical theolo
gies and theological philosophies, albeit of a vastly different cast and calibre.
Moreover, if philosophizing is holding a consistent philosophical argument
and dealing with perennial philosophical problems of epistemology, then Gre
gory Palamas clearly is a philosopher, no matter how deeply his roots are in
Aristotle.
25 See, e.g., Barlaam's Anti-Latin Discourses.

Une dispute sans justes:
Leon de Chalcedoine, Eustrate de Nicee
et la troisieme querelle sur les images sacrees
Basile Lourifi, St. Petersbourg
Dans l'histoire de l'Eglise byzantine il y avait qualre episodes ou les que-

relles dogmatiques se sont concentrees sur les images sacrees. II n'y pas
besoin d'enumerer ici les deux premieres, et, en ce qui concerne la quatrieme,
celle de la seconde moitie du XIVe siecle, il faut attendre la publication de
quelques sources principales1. Mais il est certainement temps de revaloriser
nos donnees sur la troisieme periode ou l'episode central est l'affaire de Leon
de Chalcedoine2. En fait, nous avons ici une discussion dogmatique beaucoup
plus compliquee et, en outre, capable de nous introduire dans une des terrae
incognitae de l'histoire de la theologie byzantine, aux idees theologiques (et
pas seulement philosophiques) des milieux platoniciens du XIe siecle.
Les idees 'iconolatriques' de Leon de Chalcedoine, etant les plus etudiees
aujourd'hui, peuvent servir le point de depart a notre itineraire dans les
milieux theologiques de l'epoque d'Alexis Comnene.
1. Leon de Chalcedoine: une 'iconolatrie' au lieu d'une 'hylolatrie'
L'histoire de l'affaire de Leon de Chalcedoine est maintenant connue3. En

bref, les evenements se sont deroules de la facon suivante. Vers 1081-1082, le
1 Cf. une expos6 un peu plus detaillee dans: B. Louri6, 'Le second iconoclasme en recherche
de la vraie doctrine', SP XXXIV (2000) p. 145-169, spec. 147.
2 Pour l'analyse theologique, v., tout d'abord: P. E. Stephanou, 'La doctrine de Leon de Chal
cedoine et de ses adversaires sur les images', OCP 12 (1946), 177-199 (exposition privee du
contexte historique et loin d'etre complete, mais utile a titre d'une introduction) et surtout A.
A. Glavinas, 'H in\ 'AXeîou Konvr|vou (1081-1118) rcepi iepcov cnceucov, Ketpr|Xia>v Kai
ayicov elKovcov gpii; (1081-1095), Buâvxiva Keineva Kai \ieXexa\, 6 (0eaaaXoviKr|, 1972)
qui offre de mfime quelques documents important au point de vue historique, mais ne s'interesse
guere a approfondire l'analyse dogmatique.
3 Cf., a cote de la monographie de Glavinas deja citee (n. 2): Alexandre E. Lauriotes, "Icrio-
ptKov ^r|xr|ua £KK>.r|aiaaxiKdv ^rci xfj<; PaaiXeia<; 'A>.eîou Kopvf|vou', 'EKKXriaiaaxriKtj
'AXrjGEia 20 (1900), 352-358, 362-365, 403-407, 411-416, 445-447, 455-456 (l'unique Edition
des documents principaux; ci-dessous: Lauriotes); V. Grumel, 'Les documents athonites concer-
nant l'affaire de Leon de Chalc6doine', in: Miscellanea Giovanni Mercati, vol. Ill, Litteratura e
322 B. Lourifi
gouvernement d'Alexis Comnene a decide de confisquer un nombre d'icones

et de vases sacrees pour subvenir aux besoins de la guerre. La majorite du
clerge, y compris le Patriarche, accepta ces mesures, d'ailleurs acceptables
d'apres le droit canonique. L'eveque de Chalcedoine, une personne tres asce-
tique et autoritaire aux yeux du peuple, pensait autrement: pas seulement au
point de vue canonique (quoiqu'il n'etait point expert dans ce domaine), mais
surtout au point de vue dogmatique car une pareille desacralisation des objets
sacres est une daePeia (impiete). Le conflict grossit jusqu'au point qu'en
1086, on a depose Leon, apres avoir lui faire subir une longue et vive discus
sion dogmatique ou la partie des ses opposants a ete representee par l'eveque
Eustrate de Nicee. Toutefois, au concile de Blachernes en 1094 (ou au debut
de 1095) les partis ont ete reconcilies et Leon, ayant rejete ses opinions dispu-
tees en 1086, a ete retabli sur son trone.
Ce qui nous interesse ici tout d'abord, c'est 1 'argumentation de Leon en
1086. Elle est assez etudiee, quoique pas en details. Puis nous etudierons l'ar-
gumentation de son adversaire, Eustrate de Nicee, la meme annee.
Leon insistait sur l'impossibilite de detruire une icone sans commettre un
sacrilege. Tout en etant loin de l'adoration (le culte absolu) d'une matiere,
c'est-a-dire de Yhyloldtrie4, il attribue a la matiere de l'icone le culte relatif.
Dans cette optique, il est clair que la matiere de l'icone ne doit etre detruite en
aucun cas. Mais d'ou provient une pareille optique? Leon, n'a-t-il pas connu,
a propos du xapaKxf|p, de la forme sensible, la conception centrale de la doc
trine de S. Nicephore et S. Theodore Stoudite, qui indique precisement l'objet,
immateriel par lui-meme, du culte relatif dans l'icone? Bien sur, Leon
connaissait les conceptions des defenseurs de l'Orthodoxie contre le deuxieme
iconoclasme, mais sa comprehension de leurs idees etait tres etroite.
1.1. Le xapaKxrjp du Christ et l'union 'par le synodos'

D'apres les saints docteurs du IXe siecle, c'est precisement le xapaKxf|p
qui est l'objet du culte relatif (veneration) dans l'icone, c'est-a-dire, la forme
sensible ou, a un autre point de vue, la somme des traits caracteristiques de
storia bizantina, Studi e testi, 123 (Citta del Vaticano, 1946), 116-135 (&ablissement de l'ordre
et de la valeur historique des documents publies par Lauriotes d'apres l'unique manuscrit du
XIIIe siecle deja perdu vers les 1920s; ci-dessous: Grumel); P. E. Stephanou, 'Le proces de Leon
de Chalc6doine', OCP 9 (1943) 5-64 (partiellement valide meme apres Grumel); V. Grumel,
'Leon de Chalcedoine et le canon de la Fete du saint Mandilion', AB 68 (1950) [Melanges Paul
Peeters, II], 135-152; P. Gautier, 'Le Synode des Blachernes (fin 1094). Etude prosopogra-
phique', REB 29 (1971), 213-284 (avec re^dition du Inueicoua du concile edite d'abord dans PG
127, 972-976); J. Noret, 'Une allusion a Leon de Chalc6doine et non a un ps. -saint Cddonius.
Datation des scholies de YAngelicus gr. 120', AB 108 (1990), 320-322.
4 Voir sa reponse tres tranchante a ses partisans, Nicolas d'Adrianople et Basile d'Euchai'tes
(datable de 1092 d'apres Grumel, p. 120-121), qui etaient effectivement d'une pareille opinion:
Lauriotes, p. 414; tr. francaise dans Grumel, p. 122. Leon avait raison de repousser les charges
de Yhyloldtrie qu'on lui reclamait.
Une dispute sans justes 323
l'hypostase du prototype; dans le cas du Christ, ce sont les idiomes hyposta-

tiques de l'humanite du Fils qui sont les traits caracteristiques de Jesus comme
un homme individuel (bien que Jesus ne fut pas un individu humain n'etant
que l'unique hypostase du Fils de Dieu)5.
II en est autrement chez Leon de Chalcedoine. D'apres lui, c'est la matiere
iconique (eIKovikt] v\r\) elle-meme qui recoit le culte relatif, tandis que le
XapaKxf|p du Christ doit etre adore (par le culte absolu):
la matiere iconique est venei6e par le culte d'honneur et relatif, c'est-a-dire, par sa rela
tion au xapaKxf|p theohypostatique du Christ; mais son xapaKxf|p visible dans celle-
ci, est adore (par le culte absolu) non par quelque chose autre, mais par lui-meme6.
Le terme 'xapaxxr|p theohypostatique' (Qeovnoaxaxoq xapoucxr|p) est
caracteristique par lui-meme. Au lieu de parler d'une somme des idiomes
hypostatiques humains qui caracterisent le Fils de Dieu comme l'un d'entre les
hommes, le terme invente par Leon mentionne une hypostase divine. Oui, les
idiomes hypostatiques de Jesus ont ete recus par une hypostase divine, mais ils
ne sont que les idiomes d'une hypostase humaine, quoique acceptes par une
hypostase divine faute d'une hypostase humaine dans le Christ. D'apres les
docteurs du LXe siecle, le xapaK.xf|p devrait etre nomme, dans les memes
lignes, 'anthropohypostatique'. Chez Leon, le lien avec la r6alite du corps
humain du Christ est rompu. Bien que Leon soit capable d'utiliser des phrases
comme '6 Geoimoaxaxo<; acouaxucd<; xaPaKxilP' CxapaKxr|p theohyposta
tique corporel')7, il sait distinguer entre les deux xa,f>aKXr\pec„ celui de l'hu
manite et celui de la divinite:
Le Fils Monogene incarne du Pere, contemple comme lui-meme, et son tres saint
XapaKxf|p re9oivent l'unique culte absolu (latrie). Non parce que sa chair et son
XapaKxrjp recoivent le meme culte avec sa divinite, mais parce qu'il (sa, xapaicxf|p du
Fils) est accepte par Lui (sa, Fils) par Yessence <...> et, tout en etant lie (avec Fils),
soit l'unique hypostase avec Lui, mais unique non pas par la nature, mais par la
reunion (xfl ... auv6Scp). C'est pourquoi il (xapaxxr|p) recoit le culte absolu (latrie),
mais sa chair et son /apaKvip ne recoivent pas le meme culte avec lui8.
5 Cf. Louri6, ainsi que Ch. Schonborn, L'icone du Christ. Fondements theologiques, 3e edi
tion revue avec une nouvelle postface Coll. 'Theologies' (Paris, 1986).
6 Leon de Chalc6doine, Lettre a Nicolas d'Adrianople (1092; deja citee), Lauriotes, p. 415:
f) ueV eIkovikt) vXr\ xiut|xikok; Kai ctxexikcoi; Ttpoo-KuveTxav xouxeaxi 8ia xr\v npbq xov
Geoi)Tt6axaxov XpiaxoO xapaKxnPa a%£ow 6 8e dv aftxfj 6pcbu6vo<; afrtou xapaKxr|p, ou
8i' aXXov xivd, &XX' ambq 8i' feauxov XaxpeuxiKax; rcpoaKuveTxai.
7 Lauriotes, p. 446.
8 Lauriotes, p. 446: 6 8e aapKcoGeii; uovoyevf)<; Ylo<; xou naxp6g, KaG' feauxov Gecopou-
uevo<;, Kai 6 vnepayioq auxoO xapaKxf)p TtpocncuveTxai ui£ Ttpomcuvf|aei, âxpeuxiKco<;.
Ou yap aunTtpoctKuveixai f| aapi; auxou, Kai 6 xa6xn<; xapaKxf|p xf|c, ®eoxr|xo<; auxoO'
&XXa Kax' oixriav auvaepGei<; auxfj <...>, auvnuuevax; <Sv, uia 6Tt6axacri<; eaxi ctuv auxfj'
Kai elq ou xfj cpuaei, xfj 8e auvo8cp' 8ia xouxo Kai Tcpocncuveixai XaxpeuxiKax;' &XX' ou auu-
TtpoaKuveixai auxcp f| aap^ auxou Kai 6 xauxn<; xaPaKxiiP-
324 B. Lourifi
Ce fragment, expliquant qu'est-ce que ce la nouvelle forme de l'union entre

la divinite et l'humanite inventee par Leon, celle du 'Synodos', est plein de
sens. Presque chaque phrase contredit la doctrine des Peres.
Les docteurs du IXe siecle n'attribuaient la notion du culte qu'a l'hypostase.
Mais Leon dit d'un 'meme culte avec sa divinitf; or la divinite, ce n'est pas
une hypostase, mais c'est une essence (nature). On y voit, donc, une confusion
entre la nature et l'hypostase. C'est une chose grave l'amenant sans aucune
alternative a repeter, sans le connaitre, certaines theses du monophysisme.
La formule la plus explicite est la suivante:
Le xapaKxf|p du Christ, etant theohypostatique, c'est-a-dire existant dans son hypo
stase meme du Fils de Dieu, et etant par cela Dieu et lui-meme par l'essence acceptee
par Lui et, tout en etant lie avec ce Fils lui-meme, (restant) sans retraite et sans dis-
continuer meme dans les saintes icones de Lui, recoit le culte absolu (adoration) et
I'honneur comme le Dieu9.
D'apres les docteurs de l'Orthodoxie, le xapaiecf|p individuel est accepte
par le Christ comme un attribut necessaire de la nature humaine. Comme la
nature humaine tout entiere, il ne saurait etre Dieu; d'ailleurs, il ne saurait etre
accepte par I'essence de Dieu, mais seulement par l'hypostase du Fils.
II en est autrement chez Leon. En effet, il reproduit, mutatis mutandis, une
doctrine monophysite (julianite) la plus extremiste, celle des actistites, qui
enseignaient a propos le corps du Christ les memes choses que Leon sur le
Xapaiecf|p du Christ: le xapaKxr|p est accepte par l'essence de Dieu et donc
n'est lui-meme que Dieu.
La similarite avec un monophysisme extremiste va davantage, dans le
domaine de la doctrine trinitaire.
1 .2. Repetition de la doctrine trinitaire des damianites

Leon ne se limite pas par la confusion entre la nature et l'hypostase a pro
pos des objets du culte, mais, en vertu de sa conception de 'Synodos', introduit
une nouvelle confusion dans le domaine des relations mutuelles entre les
conceptions de l'hypostase et des idiomes hypostatiques (concernant le
xapaKxr|p et sa relation a l'hypostase du Fils). II va vers l'identification entre
l'hypostase et son idiome hypostatique. II ne s'arrete pas meme devant une
definition tres nette:
9 Lauriotes, p. 415: 6 8e XpiaxoO xapaKxf)p Geounoaxaxo<; 6rcdpxa>v xouxeaxiv £v afrtfj

xfj urcocrtCKrei xou ulou xou ©eou urcoaxdi;, Kai 8id xouxo ©eo<; 6ndpxa>v Kai auxo<; Kax'
oiiaiav auvacpGevxo<; aux^> Kai cti)Vrinuevou ovxo<; xouxcp xou YloC, d8iaoxdxax; Kai
d8iaaTtdaxcoi; Kai iv xalq dyiaii; eIkoctiv a6xoC, XaxpeuxiKax; rcpoaKuveTxai Kai aePexat &q
&eoq. Cf. un peu plus loin, p. 446-447, l'explication de l'union du xapaKxf|p du Christ avec son
hypostase par l'analogie avec l'hypostase humaine constituee de l'ame et du corps.
L'unique Divinite est tri-hypostatique, car le Pere et le Fils et l'Esprit Saint sont
l'unique essence, mais trois hypostases. Or, l'hypostase de chacun de ces Trois, c'est
le mode sans commencement de son existence eternelle, et ces (hypostases) sont et
sont nominees idiomes, a savoir, le Pere, qui est Tin-engendre', le Fils, Tengendre',
l'Esprit, est 'celui qui procede'.
Ces idiomes - continue-t-il -, sont immobiles, c'est pourquoi le Pere et l'Es
prit n'ont pas ete incarnes lors de l'incarnation du Fils, mais ils ont en com-
mun 'la penetration mutuelle' (xo £uJtepixcdpeiv &M,f|A,oi<;)10. L'acception de
notre nature par le Fils s'est accomplie 'dans son hypostase propre de la filia-
lite' (£v xfj t8ig xfj<; uloxr|xo<; auxoC urcooxdaei)11.
Une pareille identification entre l'hypostase elle-meme et l'idiome hyposta-
tique est connue depuis le VIe siecle, et la discussion entre deux patriarches
monophysites (severianistes), celui d'Alexandrie, Damien, et celui d'Antioche,
Pierre. L'attitude de Damien (identifiant l'hypostase et son idiome) est deve-
nue officielle en Egypte jusqu'a la fin du premier millenaire; des 581, un
nombre des julianites a rejoint les damianites, de facon que, a partir de cette
epoque-la, cette doctrine trinitaire se repande dans les milieux monophysites
des pays divers12. On en ecoute des echos meme dans les milieux byzantins
chalcedoniens de la fin du Xe et du debut du XIe siecles13.
II est non moins remarquable que Leon repete Damien meme par sa reaction
a l'heresie des 'tritheites' de Jean Philopon (historiquement, la doctrine de
Damien est apparue comme une reponse a la doctrine de Philopon ! ). Leon se
souvient de Philopon lorsqu'il cherche a definir la notion d" hypostase':
Si l'essence et l'hypostase sont identiques, il serait necessaire d'exister a un nombre
d'essences humaines egale a celui des hommes. Mais c'est la doctrine des tritheites,
dont le fondateur qui a ete Philopon, enseignait a propos de la Sainte Trinite en ce
sens qu'elle a trois hypostases ainsi que trois essences. Mais nous autres, nous disons
que l'essence est une chose existante par elle-meme, n'ayant besoin d'etre completee
par une autre, comme notre corps. C'est pourquoi nous sommes tous une essence
unique. Mais nous appelons 'hypostase', d'apres Basile le Grand, les idiomes relatifs
10 Pour l'histoire de ce terme, voir: L. Prestige, 'Ilepixcopeco and rcepixcopno'ic, in the

Fathers', JThSt 29 (1928) 242-252; idem, God in Patristic Thought (London, 19562).
11 Lauriotes, p. 446. L'original de la citation verbale: f| uia 0e6xt|<; xpiai)Ttoo'xaxoc, £cmv
6 yap riaxf|p Kai 6 Ylo<; Kai xo "Ayiov riveCpa otjaia pev taxi nicr xpei<; 8e 6Ttoaxaaeii;-
6Ttoaxaaii; 8e £axiv feKdaxq) xouxcov xcov xpicbv 6 avapxo<; xpoTto<; xf)<; a'i8iou atx&v bnap-
êaq' ol Kai I8i6xr|xec, afixcov Kai elai Kai 6voudôvxar oiov 6 Ilaxrjp, ay6vvr|xoc/ 6 Yio<;
yewr|xOi;' xo riveuua xo "Ayiov £Kwopeuxov 6v.
12 B. M. Jlypbe, 'BorocnoBHe «erHnTCTByiomHX yMOM»: MOHOcj)H3HTcKaa TpHaaojiorHa
MOKfly TpHTen3MOM h AaMHaHH3M0M (Petri Callinicensis patriarchal-, Antiocheni, Tractatus
contra Damianum)' , XpucmuancKuu BocmoK 1 (7) (1999), 479-488.
13 Discussion entre S. Symeon le Nouveau Theologien et Etienne de Nicomedie (d'ailleurs,
pas ctudiec suffisamment; cf. Jlypbe, 'BorocjiOBHe', p. 479); v. surtout: J. Koder, L. Neyrand,
Simeon le Nouveau Theologien, Hymnes II: 16-40, SC 174 (Paris, 1971), p. 131-169 (Hymne
XXI).
326 B. Louro-
aux chacun de nous14, c'est-a-dire, les accidents (existants) aupres de notre essence,
qui sont les xapatecepe<; de tous les hommes. Par cela nous sommes distinctes l'un de
l'autre et les hypostases differentes15.
La reference a Philopon est ici la plus interessante. Reellement, sa doctrine
nominee 'tritheite' par les adversaires n'impliquait qu'une comprehension de
l'unite de la Sainte Trinit6 de la meme maniere que l'unite de trois hommes
dans l'essence humaine commune. Ce qui manquait a Philopon au point de
vue de l'orthodoxie, c'est une consideration a part de l'unite specifique des
hypostases divines. II en est autrement dans 1 'expose de Leon. D'apres Leon,
Philopon identifiait l'hypostase avec l'essence (chose absurde aux yeux de
Jean Philopon). II faut rappeler cependant qu'une telle interpretation provient
d'un contexte ou l'auteur identifie l'hypostase avec les idiomes hypostatiques,
ce qui n'est qu'un autre extreme de la meme opposition fausse. La situation est
donc completement analogique a celle de Damien d'Alexandrie.
Cette parente avec le monophysisme est remarquable, quoique seulement
d'un point de vue typologique et non genetique. On ne voit aucune trace de
l'influence, dans le cas de Leon, des doctrines monophysites actuelles. Mais
passons vers un autre trait commun au monophysisme.
1.3. Traitement monophysite des icones des saints et de la Vierge

La doctrine de Leon sur le xapmcxf|p du Christ l'a force a repeter encore
une doctrine monophysite, celle de la veneration inegale des icones du Christ,
d'une part, et de la Vierge et des saints, de l'autre.
D'apres la doctrine orthodoxe (deja explicite chez S. Jean Damascene16),
toutes les icones sont venerees d'une maniere egale grace a la presence des ener
gies divines, meme dans le cas ou il ne s'agirait pas de la presence de l'hypo
stase du Christ. Cette these ne sera jamais alteree par S. Nicephore ou S. Theo
dore Stoudite, car pour ces derniers, la saintete de l'icone, en tout cas, est
toujours garantie par la meme presence des energies divines17.
14 (Ps.-)Basile le Grand, Epttre 38.6.4-6: El ydp urcoaxaaiv drco8e8cbKauev eivai xf|v auv-
8pouf|v xcov rcepi gKaaxov l8icoudxcov... (Y. Courtonne, Saint Basile, Lettres, vol. I (Paris,
1957), cite d'apres la publication electronique dans TLG.
15 Lauriotes, p. 406-407: El yap xauxov t|v ouaia Kai imoaxaan; e8ei xoaauxa<; tx
avGpamoii; eh/ai ouaia<;, oaai Kai urcoaxdaeii; elor KaGa 8f| Kai ol xpiGetxai £8oâôv, a>v
Bâpxo<;, 6 Ot^,6rcovo<; [sans majuscule dans le texte publie] yevonevo<;, xivei; im. xr\q hymq
Tpia8o<; £8oâôv, &anep xaq urcoaxdo-eii;, oi5xco 8f| Kai oftoiai;, 6noia><; xpei<;' f|uei; 8e
ouaiav p.ev XeyoueV elvai Ttpayua auGunapKxov, \ir\ 8eouevov fexepou rcpo<; auaxaaiv,
6rcoT6v &axi xo ocaua f|ucov, KaG6 8r|, Kai o6aia uia rcavxe<; urcdpxonev, urcoaxaaiv 8e
cpauev, Kaxd xov ueyav BaaiXeiov xaw rcepi SKaaxov rjucov l8icondxcov t|youv auu-
Pepr|K6xcov nepi xr|v ouaiav f|ucov 6rc0t0t xuyxdvouaiv Ttdvxcov dvGpcorccov ol xapaKxr|pei;'
KaO' r)v 8iacpepouevrii; &XXr\Kcav, Kai I8idôuaai uTtoaxdaeii; £auev. Nous avons a discuter
plus loin (section 1.5) le terme important 'aunpePnKoxa' employe ici.
16 B. Kotter, Die Schriften des Johannes von Damaskos, III, PTS, 17 (Berlin-New York,
1975), p. 106 (Contra imaginum calumnatores orationes tres 1I.14).
17 Voir, pour ce point insuffisamment connu de la doctrine des docteurs du IXe siecle: Lourie,
p. 165-167.
Les theories monophysites sur les images sacrees tiennent compte de la dif
ference entre Tunique nature du Dieu-Verbe' et la nature humaine des saints.
Ce ne sont que les icones du Christ qu'on doit venerer en vertu de la nature de
Dieu qui y serait representee, mais, en ce qui concerne des icones de la Vierge
et des saints, elles ne sont que des simples images de personnes tres estimees18.
La conclusion de Leon va dans la meme ligne, car il lui faut faire une diffe
rence entre le xapaKxf|p du Christ et celui de n'importe quel autre homme:
pour Leon, ce ne sont pas les proprietes de la meme nature humaine, mais,
dans le cas du premier, la propriete de la nature divine 'par le synodos\
D'apres Leon, memes les hypostases de la Vierge et des saints, et par
consequent de leurs icones, sont des objets du culte relatif19. Leon ne precise
pas, si la matiere iconique des icones des saints, est aussi un objet du culte
relatif, comme celle des icones du Christ ou non. En tout cas, sa comprehen
sion des icones des saints est plus proche de la tradition orthodoxe, quoique
sa distinction qualitative entre les deux genres des icones la rapproche du
monophysisme.
1 .4. La situation du corps individuel du Christ dans le Christ

Revenons vers cette phrase d'un fragment deja cite: 06 yap auurcpoa-
KuveTxai f| aap^ cmxoO, Kai 6 xatjxr|c, xapaKxr|p xf\q ®e6xr|xo<; auxou20.
Litteralement, 'Car sa (sc, du Fils) chair et le xapaKxf|p de celle-ci ne recoi-
vent pas le meme culte que sa divinit6 '.
Une fois encore, nous avons a repeter notre observation sur la confusion
entre la nature et l'hypostase a titre d'un objet du culte. Cependant, ce qui nous
interesse maintenant, c'est une exclusion de la chair du Christ du culte de sa
divinite (c'est-a-dire, d'un culte impossible dans une perspective orthodoxe,
mais confesse par Leon) et donc du culte de I'icone du Christ. Leon va jusqu'a
introduire un nouveau concept du 'xapaKxf|p de la chair' du Christ pour desi
gner son aspect humain et charnel auquel, d'apres Leon, on ne doit aucun
culte. Pas seulement cette chair et son xapaKxf|p ne recoivent pas la meme
adoration avec la divinite, mais ils ne sont point representables en icone, car
Leon insiste, dans le fragment cite, qu'on en doit faire abstraction lorsqu'on
considere I'icone du Christ. N'etant pas representables dans I'icone, ils sont
exclus meme de la veneration, du culte relatif.
On pourrait soupconner une doctrine supprimant la deification de l'huma-
nite du Christ avant la resurrection, mais tel n'est pas le cas. Bien que, en un
lieu, Leon dise que 'notre nature' dans le Christ 'a ete vraiment deifiee, a
18 C'est une doctrine qu'on peut considerer comme un 'mainstream' parmi les doctrines
monophysites sur les images qui sont d'ailleurs assez diverses et compliquees. Cf., par exemple,
chez un Catholicos Arm6nien Nerses Snorali, dans les pourparlers avec les Grecs au XIP siecle:
A. Khoudobachev [A. Xyflo6ameB'i.], HcmopimecKie naMftmnuKU erbpoynenin apMHncKoii
UepKeu (St. Petersbourg, 1847), 207 (tr. russe).
19 Lauriotes, p. 415 et 446.
20 Voir note 8.
328 B. Lourie
l'exception de la passion'21, sa doctrine sur la presence constante de la divi-

nite dans la chair du Christ est tres nette:
Car la divinite du Christ resta inseparable du tout cela et sans confusion avec tout cela,
comme on Pa deja dit, meme lorsqu'ils ont ete divises entre eux au moment de sa mort,
a savoir, sa sainte ame et sa sainte chair, et tout ce qui est relatif a la chair et son (sa,
du Fils) saint xapaKxf|p22.
La marque distinctive de ce passage, ce n'est pas la doctrine de la presence
divine dans le corps mort du Christ (parfaitement orthodoxe par elle-meme),
mais l'idee que le xapaKxf)p du Christ puisse etre separe de sa chair.
C'est uniquement l'idee de la separabilite du xapaKxf|p du corps humain
('tout cela relatif a la chair') du Christ qui rempli de sens la distinction, men-
tionnee plus haut, entre le xapaKxf|p du Christ et celui de sa chair.
1.5. Conclusion sur le fondement christologique de I'iconologie de Leon

La, ou les docteurs du IXe siecle parlaient de la chair animee du Christ,
Leon introduit sa notion specifique du xapaKxf|p du Christ. Or, le corps du
Christ muni par son xapaKxf|p propre et distinct de 'xapaKxf)p du Christ'
devient quelque chose d'accidentel par rapport a la similitude faite par l'icone.
En effet, l'icone du Christ, d'apres Leon, n'est qu'un modele du Christ, mais
de sa christologie propre, qui est distincte de celle de la tradition orthodoxe.
Dans le modele, il y a le xapaKxf|p et la matiere iconique. Le premier est
inseparable de l'hypostase du Fils, la seconde en est separable. Dans l'original,
c'est-a-dire dans le Christ de la christologie de Leon, il y a aussi le meme
xapaKxf|p inseparable de l'hypostase ainsi qu'il y a une chose materielle et
separable du xapmcxf|p: le corps humain, 'tout cela relatif est a la chair'. Bien
que Leon, avec toute probabilite, n'ait jamais ose ecrire que ce corps humain
pourrait etre separe de l'hypostase du Fils incarne, la logique interne de son
systeme dogmatique le poussait a admettre une conclusion assez proche. Le
probleme n'a pas consiste a savoir si le corps humain du Christ a ete effecti-
vement separe de son hypostase, mais seulement de sa separabilite ou non (un
probleme tout a fait analogique, mais plus connu et meme evoque par Leon a
titre d'une analogie23: corruptibilite theoretique du corps du Christ avant la
resurrection, quoique sans corruption actuelle).
La difficulte logique la plus grave, c'etait, pour Leon, de savoir distinguer
entre l'hypostase et les idiomes hypostatiques. II s'inclinait vers l'identification
des deux notions (hypostase et idiome hypostatique) meme dans la christologie
21 Lauriotes, p. 446: xo rcdGo<; nXf|v dA.r|Gax; xeGeq)HeVt|v.

22 Lauriotes, p. 415: f\ yap 6e6xr|<; xoC XpiaxoC foq f|8r| e'ipr|xai, Kai xcopio^^vxcov dTt'
&XXr\Xcov &v xco Kaipco xoC Savdxou afixoO, xr\q xe &yia<; \|/uxn<; a6xoC Kai xf|<; &yia<; aapKcx;
a6xoC Kai Ttdvxcov xc5v xfj<; aapKOi; Kai xoC dyiou xaPaK-rnP0<; auxou, d8iaipexo<; &k
rcdvxcov Kai £v Ttaaiv douyxi)ô<; eneivev.
23 Cf. Lauriotes, p. 446.
et les identifiait tout court dans sa doctrine trinitaire. II n'y avait pas, chez
Leon, une notion de l'hypostase distincte de celle de l'idiome hypostatique.
Quant a la notion de l'idiome, elle n'a jamais ete, chez Leon, assez claire.
Nous avons cite plus haut l'unique definition relevante ou Leon definit les
idiomes hypostatiques (et donc, dans son systeme, l'hypostase elle-meme)
avec l"accident': urc6<xtamv 8e cpauev, Kara xov ueyav BaaReiov xcov
rcepi eKaaxov f|ucov I8icoucixcov qyouv ctuuPePt|k6xcdv rcepi xf|v o6aiav
f|ucov &Tt0t0t xuyxavoumv rcdvxcov dvGpamcov ol xapaKxfjpe<;24. Certes, ce
n'est pas un langage des docteurs du IXe siecle qui evitaient d'utiliser le terme
'accident' (ctuuPePtiKo<;) au sens de l'idiome hypostatique inseparable, mais
le reservaient aux proprietes accidentelles de chaque hypostase seulement.
Toutefois, d'apres une tradition byzantine bien etablie (representee meme dans
les scholies au Corpus Areopagiticum), il etait legitime de parler des 'acci
dents' en deux sens: 'separables' (c'est-a-dire, accidents au sens propre) et
'inseparables' (= idiomes hypostatiques)25.
La terminologie de Leon, n'etant pas assez precise, ignorait la distinction
subtile entre les deux sortes des xapaKxr|Pîdiomes-accidents, separables et
inseparables. Par consequent, Leon traitait le corps du Christ par rapport a
l'icone comme quelque chose de separable de l'hypostase du Fils, sans, toute
fois, expliquer les consequences christologiques d'une pareille approche.
En ce qui concerne personnellement Leon, nous savons qu'il a prefere aban-
donner ses opinions specifiques et rejoindre la communion des autres eveques
orthodoxes (au concile des Blachernes en 1094).
Mais l'idee d'une 'accidentelisation' du corps humain dans le Christ avait a
l'epoque des partisans beaucoup plus consequents que Leon de Chalcedoine.
Paradoxalement, la personne de premier rang dans le camp de ces partians
etait un theologien de la cour et l'adversaire principal de Leon au concile de
1086, Eustrate, l'eveque de Nicee (1050-1 120)26.
24 Ci-dessus, note 14.

25 Voir l'analyse dans: Lourie, p. 151-152.
26 Sur sa personnalite^ voir: P. Joannou, 'Eustrate de Nicee: Trois pieces inedits de son proces
(1117)', REB 10 (1952), 24-34; idem, 'Die Definition des Seins bei Eustratius von Nikaia. Die
Universalienlehre in der byzantinischen Theologie im XI. Jh.', Byzantinische Zeitschrift 47
(1954) 358-368; idem, 'Der Nominalismus und die menschliche Psychologie Christi. Das
Semeioma gegen Eustratios von Nikaia (1117)', BZ 47 (1954), 369-378; idem, 'Le sort des
eveques heretiques reconciles. Un discours incdit de Nicetas de Serres contre Eustrate de Nicee',
Byz 28 (1958) [Melanges Rodolphe Gouilland], 1-30; J. Darrouzes, Documents inedits d'eccle-
siologie byzantine, Archives de l'Orient Chretien, 10 (Paris, 1966), p. 57-60, 306-309 [mainte-
nant replac6 surtout par Zeses, 1973, v. ci-dessous]; J. Gouillard, 'Le Synodikon de l'Orthodoxie.
Edition et commentaire', Travaux et memoires 2 (1967), 3-316, spec. 56-61, 206-210; Th. Zeses
(0. Zt|ctt|), NiKfjxa ZetSov, Aoyog Kaxa Evcrcpanov NiKaiac,, 'Ercto-xr|noviKfj<; £Ttexr|pi8o<;
tfj; ©eoXoyiKf)<; IxoX'n<; xoC naverciaxr|uioi) ©eoaaXoviKr|<;, x. iG'. riapdpxr|na, 21 (Thes-
salonique, 1973); idem, Tlepi xr|v xpovoXoyr|mv xfji; Kaxa 'Apfievicov npaynaxeia<; xoC
Eijaxpaxiou NiKaia<;', KXrjpovofiia 7 (1975), 315-326; A. C. Lloyd, "The Aristotelianism of
Eustratios of Nicaea', in: J. Weisner (Hrsg.), Aristoteles: Werk und Wirkung, Bd. II (Berlin,
330 B. Louri£
2. Eustrate de Nicee: une doctrine iconoclaste en guise d'une iconophile
La doctrine de Leon a ete attaquee de deux cotes.

Du cote patristique, Isaac le Sebastocrator a compose un florilege, principa-
lement a partir des lettres de S. Theodore Stoudite27, demontrant, tout d'abord,
que le x«paKxf|p appartient a l'humanite du Christ (comme une somme des
traits individuels humains), d'ou on pouvait conclure qu'il ne saurait etre adore.
Du cote de l'argumentation speculative, Eustrate de Nicee a compos6 deux
ceuvres polemiques. L'une, en forme du dialogue entre Philalethe ('amateur de
verite\ un alter ego d'Eustrate lui-meme, exposant des vues pretendument
orthodoxes) et Philosynithes ('amateur de synodos', c'est-a-dire, exposant des
vues de Leon de Chalcedoine)28, et l'autre, une demonstration composee de
syllogismes29.
Partout, dans son argumentation, Eustrate reste fidele a soi-meme, un theo-
logien qui pretend presenter a tout le monde une nouvelle vision de la christo-
logie orthodoxe dont on avait besoin pour les discussions perpetuelles avec les
Armeniens, ce qui etait le theme central de la polemique religieuse de
l'epoque. C'est ici, dans les discussions avec les Armeniens, qu'Eustrate a
obtenu la place du theologien de la cour imperiale le plus experimente, mais
c'est egalement ici, dans les memes discussions, qu'il a publie la theorie qui
sera la cause de sa chute et deposition en 1117 dont la memoire a ete inscrite
meme dans le Synodikon de l'Orthodoxie.
Le proces de 1 1 17 ne visait cependant que les conclusions les plus extremes
de la pensee d'Eustrate. C'est pourquoi, apres ce proces, on a detruit ses deux
discours contre les Armeniens ou il professait les opinions condamnees, mais
personne n'a prit soin de mettre en ordre son h6ritage litteraire tout entier, ou,
d'ailleurs, le systeme de ses opinions th6ologiques restait clair et bien etabli.
C'est seulement sa tentative de s'expliquer en un langage moins philosophique
que metaphorique qui a cause sa chute. La hierarchie n'est pas devenue
capable de tolerer ses formules sur le 'service d'esclavage' de l'humanite du
Christ a sa divinite. On a donc condamne Eustrate pour le nestorianisme, et il
a du se repentir.
1987), p. 341-351 (la literature sur Eustrate comme un commentateur classique d'Aristote est
tres ample, et nous ne l'aborderons guere). Les sources principales sont editees ou, du moins,
referees dans les publications enumerees.
27 Identification des lieux cites: Slcphanou. 'La doctrine de Leon de Chalc&ioine', p. 188-189.
28 Editee, parmi les autres opuscules d'Eustrate, dans: Andronic D6metrakopoulos, 'EkkX/j-
maaxiKfi BifiAwQr\Kri efinepiexouaa eAMjvcov GeoAoymv avyypdfifiaxa, ek xeipoypd<pmv xijg i\
Moaxg. ftififaoGrJKrjc; vvv np&xov eicSiSdneva, T. A' (Leipzig, 1866) [ci-dessous: EB], p. 127-
151: AiaXoyoq, nepi xmv hyimv sikovcov nax; del npooKvveioGai Kai xinaaGai abxag axexueax; fj
XaxpevxiKcbg; (Dialogue sur les saintes images, si l'on doit les venerer par le culte relatif ou
adorer par le culte absolu).
29 EB, p. 151-160: ZvAAoyioxiKr\ dnoSei&g nepi xob xponov xinijq xe Kai npoaKf>vr\aeax; xmv
ayiwv eiKovwv (Refutation syllogistique concernant la mode de veneration des saintes icones).
Cependant, les opuscules d'Eustrate contre Leon nous donneront l'occasion

de prouver que ses idees christologiques condamnees en 1117 ont €te deja
assez mures vers 108630.
2.1. Apologie des icones au moyen des arguments des iconoclastes

Le but d'Eustrate est de prouver que le xapatecf|p qui est pr6sent dans
l'icone ne saurait etre un objet du culte absolu, d'adoration. II va cependant
plus loin: au point qu'on a pu se demander comment meme le culte relatif, la
veneration, peut devenir possible. Disons a l'avance qu'Eustrate ne repondra
pas a une pareille question.
L'argumentation d'Eustrate est plus succincte dans sa Refutation syllogis-
tique que dans son Dialogue. Commencons donc par la Refutation.
Si l'assume (rcp6aXnuua = humanite acceptee par Christ) n'est pas adorable par soi-
meme, bien qu'il soit circonscriptible par soi-meme, il n'aurait rien d'adorable en
mesure qu'il est circonscriptible31.
Si on change dans cette phrase le mot 'adorable' par le mot 'ven6rable', on
trouverait un argument familier des iconoclastes. Une pareille procedure n'est
pas logiquement illegitime: Taccepte' n'est pas venerable 'par soi-meme' non
plus, le culte relatif (veneration) n'etant point possible que par une relation a
un autre.
Poursuivons l'argumentation d'Eustrate, qui definit les hypostases, les
idiomes et le xapaKxf|p.
Encore (une demonstration): l'icone contient l'image et'la forme du represente non
selon^l 'essence; or, l'image et la forme sont simplement une qualitc et le quatrieme
30 Th. Zisis, en datant de 1088 l'ceuvre d'Eustrate "EAeyxoQ Kai dvaxponfj x&v Xeyovxcov
fiiav (pvmv em xov Xpiaxov xov dAr\Givov 0eov fjfi&v, &k AoyiK&v km (pvaiK&v Kai GeoAo-
yiK&v enixsiptjasmv, s£ wv dsiKvvxai dvayKaiwg sk Svo pvaewv eivai xov awxfjpa Xpiaxov
/xov, xfjv dpptjxov avxov Kaxa adpKa oiKovoniav ayvpxax; Kai davyxvxmg Kai dxpenxmg dAAr\-
AaiQ rjvmoev £v nia Kai xfj avxfj vnoaxdaei. 'EêddGrj de nexa xfjv yevonevr/v 5idAe£,iv napa xov
PaaiAewg Kvpiou 'AAe£,iov xov Konvtjvov npoQ 'Apniviov xov Tiypdvrjv (EB, p. 160-198), en
notant, de meme temps, qu'il n'y a, dans cette oeuvre-la, 'aucune chose anti-orthodoxe' (Zeses,
Tlepi xf)v xpovoXoyncnv' p. 322-323), accepte comme evident que les vues d'Eustrate 6vo-
luassent entre les deux pourparlers avec les Armeniens, ceux de Constantinople de 1088 et
ceux de Philippopolis de 1114 (c'est a l'occasion de ces derniers que Eustrate a compos6 deux
discours condamnes). Or, l'histoire de la pol6mique d'Eustrate contre Leon de Chalc6doine
nous fera renoncer a cette opinion, largement accepted jusqu'aujourd'hui. Encore une precision
au meme article de Zisis: le discours d'Alexis Comnene aux Arm&iiens, remontant a ces
memes pourparlers de 1088, est edite par A. I. Papadopoulo-Kerameus, 'AvdAacxa 'IepoaoAv-
(iixiKrfc Zxaxuokoyiag, T. A' (St. Petersbourg, 1897), p. 116-123 (Aoyog xov nsydAov paai-
Aecog Kvpob 'AAe£,iov Konvfjvov eKdoGeig nap' avxov npoq 'ApneviovQ 8o£,dC,ovxaq kok(oq niav
(pvaiv eni Xpiaxov).
31 EB, p. 154: El 8e Xaxpeuxov nev oh KaG' afcxo xo rcpoaXr|uua, eIkovio-xov 8e KaG'
auxo' ouk apa 6xel x0 A.axpeux6v &q eIkovictxov.
332 B. Louri£
genre de la qualite32; mais chaque qualite est simplement un accident; mais l'accident
n'est pas adorable; donc, l'image ou la forme ne sont pas adorables33.
Ce traitement de 'l'image et de la forme' du Christ comme des accidents
etait l'argument principal des iconoclastes du IXe siecle, qui concluaient a
l'impossibilite d'un quelconque culte de l'icone. Quant a l'Eustrate, il n'en
conclut que l'impossibilite du culte absolu.
Allons plus loin, avec Eustrate, afin de voir l'application directe des memes
principes a la doctrine trinitaire et la christologie.
Car le Fils de Dieu preserva sans abandonner ses idiomes hypostatiques par lesquels Il
se distingue de l'hypostase du Pere et de l'Esprit; toutefois, comme Fils de l'homme,
II prit, en outre, d'autres idiomes par lesquels II se distingue de sa mere et des autres
hommes.
Jusqu'ici, tout va bien: Eustrate reproduit l' argumentation classique de SS.
Nicephore et Theodore Stoudite. Mais, soudainement, il progresse dans la
direction des leurs contemporains iconoclastes, en avancant une alternative
fausse:
Mais ces derniers [c.a.d., les 'idiomes par lesquels II se distingue de sa mere et des
autres hommes'], - questionne Eustrate -, sont-ils l'essence ou l'accident? Je parle de
la couleur, de la hauteur <...> [suit une liste des qualites caracteristiques de l'appa-
rence] et l'apparence exterieure de chacun membre du corps, par lesquels nous recon-
naissons, en les peignant sur l'icone, qui est represent6 sur l'icone de tel ou de tel34.
Mais, comme le soulignent les docteurs orthodoxes du IXe siecle, toutes
ces qualites individuelles ne sont pas les idiomes hypostatiques, qui caracte-
risent une hypostase comme distincte des autres hypostases de la raeme
essence. Une partie parmi ces qualites n'est formee que des proprietes qui
changent au cours de la vie de l'individu. Ce ne sont que des accidents, ce
qui n'implique point que les vrais idiomes hypostatiques le soient aussi.
(Alternativement, Eustrate pouvait nommer 'accidents' toutes les qualites
enumerees, mais avec reserve, n'oubliant pas de distinguer, parmi eux, entre
les accidents 'separables' et 'inseparables'; ce ne sont que les derniers qui
sont des idiomes hypostatiques.)
32 Cf. Aristote, Categories VIII, 10 a 11-17.

33 EB, p. 154: "Exv f| eIkcov xo oxnua Kori xf|v uopcpf|v xou eIkoviôhevou XanPdvei ou
xf)v oucriav xo 8e axr\\ia Kai f\ uopcpf| noi6xr\q drcXax; Kai xexaprov yevoi; Ttoiornxoi;'
naaa 8e dnXibq Ttoioxn<; ctuuPePr|ko<;' o66ev 8e ctuuPePt|ko<; Xaxpeuxov ou6ev apa axfjua
t) popcpf| Xaxpeuxov.
34 EB, p. 155: 'ilq \ie\ ovv v\bq xoC ©eou exf|pnaev &8ianxcoxa xa 6noaxaxiKa auxou
I8icouaxa, KaG' fi 8teKpivexO xou Elaxpo<; Kai xoC IlveunaxO<; KaG' i)rcoaxaaiv &q 8e uloi;
avGpa>rcou fiaxev auOii; l8icbnaxa §xepa, KaG' a 8iacpepei xf\q \ir\xpoq Kai x<bv Xoincov
dvGpcbrccov. TaiJxa 8f| xo 8ei)xepa xi ectxiv ouaia t) cr)nPePt|k6<;; olov xi Xsya, xo xp«>Ma.
xo \itysQoq <...>, Kai ekooxou nopiou koxo xt|v E^coGev eTtiepaveiav, anep ev xaii; eIkocti
ypdpovxe<;, xivo<; eoxi yvcopiônev xt|v eKaaxOu xcov eIkoviôhevcov elKova.
II en est autrement chez Eustrate. II declare tous les idiomes hypostatiques,

sans essayer de faire aucune distinction entre eux, les accidents 'separables' et
'inseparables'. II en tire la conclusion de l' impossibilite de les adorer. Comme
les iconoclastes du IXe siecle, Eustrate ne partage pas la conception patristique
de l' union hypostatique des deux natures du Christ, d'apres laquelle l'huma-
nite du Christ est une nature complete qui ne saurait etre privee des caracteris-
tiques de l'individu humain: cet 'homme Jesus' (1 Tim. 2, 5) n'est pas une
hypostase distincte de celle du Fils. D'apres Eustrate, comme chez les icono
clastes, ces caracteristiques individuelles de Jesus ne sont que des accidents
qui, tout en etant des qualites exterieures (en tous sens du mot) ne sauraient
participer dans 1 'incarnation du Fils. Sauf les conclusions sur la possibilite du
culte des icones, l'unique difference entre les iconoclastes et Eustrate consiste
en ce que les premiers refusaient de nommer 'idiomes hypostatiques' ces
caracteristiques individuelles (et chargeaient du nestorianisme ceux qui le fai-
saient), tandis qu'Eustrate prefere redefinir la conception de l'idiome hyposta
tique en l'identifiant, dans le cas de la nature creee, avec l' accident35.
C'est une chose grave par elle-meme. Nous sommes en presence d'une
autre comprehension pas seulement de 'l'idiome', mais encore de 'l'hypo-
stase'. Eustrate n'est pas trop loin, dans ce domaine-la, du systeme de Leon
de Chalcedoine.
Nous reviendrons la-dessus, mais, pour le moment, poursuivons notre
enquete sur la polemique contre Leon de Chalcedoine.
2.2. Les xapaKxfjpeq dans la conception d'Eustrate

Ayant allegue les arguments qu'on vient d'esquisser, Eustrate se tourne
directement vers la doctrine de Leon: 'Mais certains disent que nous ne ren-
dons pas de culte absolu a l' image comprise dans l'icone, mais nous estimons
par culte absolu le xapmcxf|p qui est, par soi-meme, eloigne de la matiere
parce qu'il est theohypostatique'36. Ce n'est qu'un argument de Leon.
Eustrate repond qu'on ne peut apercevoir que les choses sensibles. Apres
une courte reflexion sur le mecanisme de la perception visuelle, il procede a la
conclusion que les objets existants dans notre fantaisie et dans notre intellect
ne doivent pas etre adores non plus37. Mais il lui faut cependant de considerer
la conception du xapaKxf|p de pres.
35 Cf. une exposition des ces matieres beaucoup plus detaillee dans le Dialogue (EB, p. 131-
135). En outre, il y a, dans le Dialogue, une expos6 inteiessante sur les energies divines par rap
port aux icones (EB, p. 140-141). Il va sans dire qu'elle ne donne aucune place a la doctrine de
l'6Xr| xiuia de S. Jean Damascene.
36 EB, p. 155: Oacri 8b xivei;, foq o6k 6v xf\ elKovi Xapfiavovxeq xo el8o<; xf)v A.axpeiav
Ttpoacpeponev, &XX' atjxov KaG' feauxov &nolmcjx&vxeq xov xapaKxf\pa xfj<; vXr\q, <bq
Beourcoaxoxov ovxa, xf\q Xaxpsiaq riîoCnev.
37 EB, p. 156-157.
334 B. Louri£
Le xapaKxf|p de l'individu - dit Eustrate -, n'est qu'un griffonnage et comme si une

esquisse et une empreinte de ses accidents propres, par la somme desquels il sera uni-
quement discernable d'un autre individu de la meme nature. C'est pourquoi, en le
representant graphiquement ou, peut-etre, oralement par ces accidents-la, nous deve-
nons capables de le caractenser et le discerner des autres.
Eustrate continue, en repetant la phrase la plus chere aux iconoclastes du
IXe siecle:
Car le circonscriptible n'est pas ce qui est commun, de telle sorte qu'on puisse l'ado-
rer dans les icones, mais seulement Fapparence et l'aspect materiel de l'individu, et
tout cela par la vue exterieure38.
Deux theses cheres aux iconoclastes sont repetees ici: que le commun (l'es-
sence) ne soit pas circonscriptible et que, par consequent, la nature humaine
dans le Christ ne l'est pas non plus.
Toutefois, Eustrate ne disait encore que d'un 'xopaia;f|p de la chair' que
meme Leon savait distinguer de celui 'theohypostatique'. C'est pourquoi il
continue:
On nous dit encore: nous entendons par le xapoiKxf|p seulement celui-la que Dieu le
Verbe hypostasia en Lui-meme; c'est celui-la que nous disons adorer39.
En repondant, Eustrate dit d'abord que le xapaKxf|p theohypostatique, ce
n'est pas le materiel d'or, d'argent, d'airain, de peinture. Egalement, il n'est
pas
une empreinte dans notre fantaisie ou l'intellect, mais (le xapaK/cf|p) hypostasis a la
divinite et existant avec elle sans separation et sans confusion - le premier (sans s6pa-
ration) par l'hypostase, le second (sans confusion) par les natures. En le nommant
l'icone, on aura une relation d'identite avec le prototype. Car c'est une icone identique
au prototype, de facon qu'on doive dire que son xapaKxr|p est le prototype40.
Donc, la notion inventee par Leon, le xapaKxf|p theohypostatique, est
inutile dans la discussion de l'icone car elle est, en fait, identique au prototype.
38 EB, p. 157: Xapatcxfip 8e xou KaG' gKacrta o£>8ev gxepov, fj 8iaxapa^ti; Kai oiov 6id-
ypa\|/i<; xe Kai 8iaxuraocm; x&v I8ico<; av>nPePr|K6xG)v afixqi, a>v xo dGpoiaua ouk av in'
aXXou xivoi; xebv 6u.ocpixbv etpeGeiri noxe' 8i6 Kai £k xouxcov a6xov eIkoviôvxei;, f) Xoyco
noxe 6Ttoypdcpovxe<;, 8uaxav xcov aXXmv Kai xap<xKxr|pi£eiv 8uvdneGa- ou8' elKovtaOiiae-
xai av xo KaGoXou, i'va Kai ev eIkooi xouxcp Xaxpeuet xii;, &XX' t| novov axwa Kai EvuXov
xou KaG' gKaaxa Kai auxo xov Kax' £rcupdveiav.
39 EB, p. 157: "Exi 8e cpaaiv, dx; atixdv xov xapaKxf|pa Xappdvovxe<;, 6v 6 0eo<; Aoyo<;
eauxco f)Tteaxr|aaxo, xouxcp Xaxpeueiv Xeyouev.
40 EB, p. 158: <...> &XX' o68' 6 xfj cpavxaoia f|ua>v f) xfj 8iavoia ximouuevoi;, dXX' 6 xfj
Ge6xt|xi urcoaxdi; Kai atixfj auwTtdpxcov d8iaipexcoc; Kai dauyxuxco<;, xo uev xfj bnoaxaasi,
xo 8e xaii; cpuaeaiv 8v elKova cpdaKov, &vacpeponevr|v eêi Ttdvxax; npoq xi rcpcoxoximov.
'H yap eIkcov Ttpcoxoxurcou Ttdvxcoi;' Kai xi ectxi xo xoO xapaKxfjpo<; £Keivou Ttpcoxoximov
Xeyexa.
Ce qui manque a cette discussion, chez Eustrate aussi bien que chez Leon,
c'est une precision sur les rapports entre les idiomes hypostatiques humains du
Christ et son hypostase incarnee. Nous avons note que Leon n'a pas tire toutes
les conclusions christologiques de sa theorie des images. Chez Eustrate, la
situation est differente.
2.3. Christologie d'Eustrate de Nicee en 1086

A ceux qui disent qu'ils adorent dans l'icone le Verbe incarne, pas l'icone
elle-meme, Eustrate r6pond:
Les natures (du Christ) sont deux et composent l'unique hypostase du Christ, c'est
pourquoi ce qu'on adore dans l'icone, c'est soit la divinite, soit l'humanite, soit les
deux.
Mais, poursuivit-il, la divinite n'est pas circonscriptible, quoique adorable,
tandis que l'humanite est circonscriptible, quoiqu'elle ne soit pas adorable.
D'ou on doit conclure, par mode syllogistique, que le Christ comme Dieu est adorable,
et que le Christ comme Dieu n'est pas circonscriptible.
C'est pourquoi les Peres ont etabli de rendre aux icones un culte relatif et
non un culte absolu (axexi.Kf|v... 6.XX' ou A,axpeuxiKr|v)41.
Apres tout ce qu'Eustrate a deja explique a propos de sa theorie de la per
ception, il est clair que l'objet de ce culte relatif ne depasse pas les limites des
choses materielles ou existantes seulement dans la fantaisie et l' intellect. Les
iconoclastes du IXe siecle etaient un peu plus proches de la tradition patristique
lorsqu'ils refusaient a de tels objets un culte quelconque.
Comme les iconoclastes, Eustrate excluait explicitement, de 1 'hypostase du
Verbe incarne, les idiomes individuels humains du Christ. Son adversaire Leon
partageait le meme fondement conceptuel. Les deux adversaires attribuaient le
culte a une nature, au lieu de l'attribuer a une hypostase.
Cela affectait de meme leurs attitudes envers les icones des saints : la ou il
n'y a pas de nature divine, il n'y aura jamais qu'un objet de culte relatif. 'Car
les icones des saints ont deux relations, l'une aux saints et l'autre au Dieu', et
l'honneur qu'on rend aux icones doit etre 'plus ou moins, selon l'analogie
(Kaxa xf|v dvaAoyiav)42 des prototypes'43.
41 EB, p. 159. Original des citations verbales: 8uo otiacov xcov cpfxiecov, at xf|v uiav xoO
XpicrxoC o"u(iTtXripoCaai vKoaxamv, r\ xf| 8eoxr|xi Xaxpeueiv iv xfj eIkovi, r\ xfj dvGpcoTtox-
nxi, t| dncpoxepai;' &XX' f| pev Geoxni; o6k eIkovioxov <...> Kai auXXoyiaaixo 6' av xii;
ouxox;' 'O Xpiaxo<; KaG6 0e6<; Xaxpevxoq £axiv 'O Xpiaxo<; KaGo ©eo<; elKoviaxo<; ouk
£oxiv.
42 Terme classique depuis le Corpus Areopagiticum.
43 Dialogue (EB, p. 150): foe, elvai 8uo xd<; axeaeK; xaT<; xcov ayicov bIkoot npbq aiixou<;
xe Kai Ttpo<; ©eov <...> naXXov 8e Kai fjxxov Kaxa xf|v dvaXoyiav xcov Ttpcoxoxuraov.
336 B. Louri£
Finalement, notons, chez Eustrate, une formule qui annonce sa doctrine de

1 1 14, a savoir, que la nature humaine assumee par le Christ (xo rcp6aA,r|pua)
est quelque chose d'autre, non seulement en nature mais aussi en dignite, et qu'elle
adore Dieu et s'acquitte envers lui d'un service d'esclave44.
Dans le Dialogue de 1086, il a ecrit:
Car le Seigneur accepta la nature d'esclave, et le Createur celle de creature. Celui donc
qui adore cette nature, etant donn6 tout cela, comment lui est-il possible d'eviter la
charge de l'adoration de la creature?45
Ici, Eustrate concevait la legitimite d'un culte adresse a la nature humaine,
comme si en oubliant que l'objet du culte ne saurait etre que l'hypostase.
Ensuite, en 1 1 14, cette meme nature sera non objet, mais sujet du culte. La
caracteristique fondamentale de la theologie d'Eustrate est que la nature y joue
le role de l'hypostase: cette doctrine sera condamnee par la hierarchic
Dans cette optique, il est tout naturel que les idiomes hypostatiques soient
devenus des accidents, car leur vraie fonction a ete transmise aux idiomes de
la nature (ceux par lesquels les natures differentes se discernent entre elles). II
s'agit, chez Eustrate, d'une identification entre 'nature' et 'hypostase' comme
chez Leon. Cette identification a ete designee par son nom le plus ancien dans
l'histoire chretienne, celui du damianisme. Toutefois, la provenance de ce nou-
veau damianisme byzantin n'etait pas la meme et n'avait aucun rapport avec le
monophysisme.
C'est une caracteristique de la theologie d'Eustrate, - meme avant de 1 114,
vers le debut de sa carriere theologique en 1086 -, de traiter la nature humaine
du Christ comme si elle etait l'hypostase. Cela le rapproche du nestorianisme.
D'ailleurs, c'est pour 'nestorianisme' qu'il a 6t6 condamne en 1117. Toutefois,
la provenance des doctrines theologiques d'Eustrate (et encore moins, de
Leon) n'a rien a voir avec le nestorianisme.
3. Eustrate et Leon: leur arriere-plan commun
Nous avons deja note, quoiqu'en passant, plusieurs traits communs entre
Eustrate et Leon. Meme le point central de la theorie du synodos, l'idee du
'xapaKxr|p theohypostatique', assume 'par l'essence' divine (au lieu de
l'union hypostatique), est devenue parfaitement acceptable a Eustrate. II parte
volontiers de ce 'xapaKxr|p theohypostatique' lui-meme. Sa critique de Leon
ne concerne que la possibility a ce xcpaKxf|p-la, d'exister dans l'icone.
44 Gouillard, 'Le Synodikon', p. 20 (traduction) / p. 21.398-399: of) xfj cp6aei uovov gxepov,
&XXa Kai xfj dL,\q., Kai oxi Xaxpeuei ©eî Kai uTcr|peaiav repoaepepei 8ouA,iKf|v.
45 EB, p. 146: AouXou yap cpuaiv 6 8eoTt6xt)<;, Kai Kxianaxoi; 6 Kxiaxni; npoaeiA.r|cpev.
'O ouv xouxcp Xaxpeucov, f) xoCxo iaxi, n&c, ou Kxiapaxi ^.axpeucov £Xeyxexai;
D'ailleurs, ici, Eustrate avait raison, tandis que la position de Leon etait peu
defendable.
Chez Leon, nous n'avons donc qu'une modification peu viable de la chris-
tologie (ou, plutot, de la theologie) commune avec son adversaire.
C'est un fait de valeur fondamentale. Leon et Eustrate representent les deux
poles des ecoles theologiques de leur epoque. Leon avait la reputation d'un
traditionaliste sans tendances dangereuses vers la philosophie profane. Eus
trate, au contraire, etait un eleve de Jean Italos, condamne par le concile de
Constantinople en 1082 avec la participation de Leon46, mais Eustrate a
renonce publiquement a son ancien maitre. II n'y avait, avant le debut du
XIIe siecle, aucune figure comparable a ceux-ci par l'autorite dans les
matieres theologiques. (Aussitot que les theologiens de la nouvelle formation,
comme Nicetas Seides47 et Nicetas d'Heraclee48, apparaissent a l'horizon, la
chute d'Eustrate deviendra pr6definie.)
La crise provoquee par l'expropriation des objets sacres en 1080s est donc
une marque exterieure d'une confusion regnant dans les esprits theologiques
vers la fin du XIe siecle. II serait seduisant d'essayer expliquer cette crise par
un 'nominalisme' qu'on attribuait longtemps a Eustrate et a Jean Italos, mais
l'existence d'un nominalisme a Byzance s'est averee etre une faute des histo-
riens49.
La crise n'a eclat6 que dans le domaine de la theologie pure. Les materiaux
du proces de Jean Italos de 1082 en donnent une idee.
La liste des erreurs d'ltalos, enumerees par le Concile de 1082, se termine
ainsi:
Un dernier article rut reconnu errone\ que voici. Il y disait 'adorer l'image du Fils de
Dieu fait chair, sans s'arreter aux ombres, mais en reportant l'honneur sur le proto
type (Xaxpeueiv xf\ eIkovi xou aapKcoGevxo<; uioC xoO GeoO, ou xaic, oiaaTc,
ûuevcov, &XX' £ni xo Ttpcoxoximov xr\v xiut|v dvacpepcov)', ce qui, a l'instar des
autres articles, fut jug6 incompatible, en rigueur de langage, avec la foi orthodoxe. En
effet, alors que l'adoration s'entend proprement de l'essence divine - c'est de celle-ci
qu'on nous dit les adorateurs -, alors que les images se voient attribuer la veneration
en vertu de l'honneur du au prototype (Tri<; yap Xazpeiaq KupioXeKxOuuevni; £Tti
xr\q Qeiaq ouaia<; - £Keivni; yap xuyxaveiv ^.eyoneGa Xaxpeuxai - xalq 8e eIkooi
xf\q TtpoaKUvf|aeco<; 6id xtjv eI<; xo TtpcoxoxuTtov dTtoveno|ievr|i; xiuf|v), l'ltalos a
46 J. Gouillard, 'Le Proces officiel de Jean l'ltalien. Les actes et leurs sous-entendus', Tra-
vaux et memoires 9 (1985), 133-174. Mention de Leon dans la liste des participants: p. 145.153.
47 Voir, a cote de Zeses, NiKtjxa ZeiSov, Aoyoq Kaxa Ebaxpaxiov Niicaiag, R. Gabhauer,
Gegen den Primat des Papstes, Studien zu Niketas Seides: Edition, Einfiihrung, Kommentar
(Munchen, 1975).
48 Voir, tout d'abord, une notice de J. Darrouzes, 'Notes de litterature et de critique', REB 18
(1960), 179-194, spec. 179-184 (I. Nicetas d'Heraclee PI? xou IeppSv).
49 Cf. surtout L. Benakis [A. MnevaKri], 'To npo$kx\\ua. xcov yevikcov £vvoicov Kai 6
'EvvoioXoytKOi; PeaA.iano<; xcov Buâvxivcov', <t>ikooo<pia 8-9 (1978-1979), 311-340, contenant
des sections consacrees a Italos et Eustrate.
338 B. Louwfi
introduit qu'il adorait l'image du Fils de Dieu incarn6, ce que la divine Ecriture n'a
jamais employ6 au sens propre pour les images. Si nous nous donnions le nom d'ado-
rateurs des images, alors l'appellation appliquee aux orthodoxes par les iconomaques
nous conviendrait tout a fait.50
L'attitude d'ltalos ne sera interessante qu'en second lieu. Ce qui nous inte-
resse tout d'abord, c'est l'attitude du Concile de 1082. Sa formule £Keivn<;
(sc, xf\q Qeiaq obaiaq) yap xuyxaveiv XeyoneOa A,axpeuxai est assez vague
et meme dangereuse, car elle ne contient aucune mention de l'hypostase51. On
peut la traiter en un sens tres litteral, comme introduisant non une hypostase,
mais une essence a titre de l'objet du culte. D'ailleurs, cette meme formule ne
dit rien sur l'i3A,ri xiuia, le vrai sens du culte relatif qui ne serait possible que
par la presence divine (par les energies) dans la matiere iconique. Elle est donc
egalement ouverte a l"iconolatrie' de Leon et l"iconoclasme en guise de
l'iconophilie' d'Eustratios.
Quant a Italos, le meme Concile de 1082 l'a charge d'un acte de sacrilege,
une lapidation de l'icone du Christ, bien que Jean lui-meme ait rejete ce der
nier point d'accusation (qui aurait pu lui cofiter tres cher).52 Si son attitude vers
les icones etait proche de celle de son disciple Eustrate, un pareil incident
serait possible. D'une cote, la matiere et meme la forme sensible seraient trai-
tees comme n'ayant aucun lien reel avec le prototype. De l'autre cote, l'icone,
dans un sens, pourrait etre definie comme le prototype lui-meme. Nous avons
deja cite Eustrate sur le 'xapaKxf|p theohypostatique' qui est, d'apres lui,
identique avec le prototype (1'hypostase du Fils).
Eustrate et Leon, tous les deux, sont apparus dans l'environnement oii la doc
trine patristique etait en grande partie oubliee. C'etait les milieux theologiques
de la capitale, proches a la cour imperiale, oii etaient toleres non seulement Eus
trate et Leon, mais encore Jean Italos et Michel Psellos et oii Psellos ecrivait
une sorte des ' Anti-Ambigua, sur S. Gregoire de Nazianze pour corriger 'le phi-
losophe Maxime' (S. Maxime le Confesseur) et ce qu'il a ecrit sur la deification
de l'homme dans le Christ53. Or Psellos n'a jamais ete condamne.
II est non moins symptomatique que le celebre manuscrit des oeuvres de
S. Maxime, YAngelicus gr. 120, etait lu dans le camp des adversaires de
50 Gouillard, 'Le Proces officiel de Jean l'ltalien', p. 153 (texte)/152 (tr., un peu remaniee ici).
51 Symptomatiquement, Gouillard introduit ici une reference (p. 152, n. 35) 'VJP Concile
(Nicfe), act. VII"; Mansi XIII, c. 405 E' qui, en fait, correspond a ce lieu de Yhoros du Concile
ou les Peres declarent comme l'unique objet de l'adoration Yhypostase du Christ representee sur
l'icone.
52 Gouillard, 'Le Proces officiel de Jean l'ltalien', p. 154/155-156/157 (tr./txt).
53 P. Gautier, Michaelis Pselli, Theologica, vol. I, Bibliotheca Auctorum Graecorum et
Romanorum Teubneriana (Leipzig, 1989), p. 234. A noter son ton: 'Je m'emerveille de ce que
Maxime le Philosophe, etant question^ sur cette meme phrase [du S. Gregoire], ait repondu non-
chalamment a celui qui posa la question, disant cette meme chose que nous maintenant venons
de refuter, en la corrigeant'.
Leon54. La seconde moiti6 du XIe siecle n'etait pas seulement une epoque
d'heresies, mais aussi l'epoque du second avenement du S. Maxime le Confes-
seur comme figure de premier plan de la theologie byzantine qui amenera der-
riere lui une pleiade de theologiens orthodoxes au XIIe siecle55.
54 Noret, 'Une allusion a Leon de Chalc6doine'.

55 C'est une occasion agreable de remercier ici Mile Ysabel de Andia, qui m'a aide mainte-
nant en corrigeant mon franâis, pour son assistance amicale depuis plusieurs annccs.
Theology and Gnoseology and the Formulation
of Doctrine in St John Damascene
George Metallidis, Thessalonica
We know that one of the most important features of St John Damascene's

theological and philosophical works is the way in which he strengthens, his
arguments by the use of Patristic texts. Indeed, John's phrase, 'I will say noth
ing of my own', is really the case in the work Fountain of Knowledge, as Kot-
ter has pointed out1. Another work in which John Damascene supports his
Christology and analyses theological positions on the basis of the principle 'I
will say nothing of my own' is Against the Jacobites, which reflects his gen
uine feelings against the anti-Chalcedonians' John's way of thinking certainly
has an impressity solidity. He makes a conscious attempt to support Chalcedon
by making reference to various dyophysite Fathers. For this reason he found
Leontios of Byzantium, for example, to provide very important supporte for
the Fourth Ecumenical Council, for he also used the distinction between
hypostasis and nature to express his Christological positions. John follows
Leontios step by step along the way: he thinks like Leontios2. However this
'concrete' way of thinking prompts us to raise some questions. Does St John
Damascene presuppose the theology of the Ecumenical Councils or not?
Moreover, what is his conception of the relationship between theological
gnoseology and its doctrinal formulation? How does John perceive the Chris
tian tradition and what a doctrine expresses? I shall move on to this latter
point, but first I will deal with the questions, what is knowledge and what does
a doctrine express.
Knowledge, yvakjk;, from the Greek verb yiyvroo-KO), has both positive and
negative definitions in the works of St John Damascene3. We read in Contra
Manichaeos 78 that 'knowledge is to know the beings or those things which
are coming into being', while in The Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith
4, we read, 'Provided that we know the beings, that which is incomprehensible
1 The edition of St John Damascene's texts used in this article (save for one passage) is B.
Kotter (ed.), Die Schriften des Johannes von Damaskos, 5 vols., PTS 7 (Berlin-New York,
1969), 12 (1973), 17 (1975), 22 (1981), 29 (1988).
2 Indeed, according to A. Louth, 'John seems to be closer to the sixth century, in which such
abstraction is rife, than to Maximos' (St John Damascene, Tradition and Originality in Byzantine
Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), p. 166).
3 Dial. 1 (Kotter (1969), pp. 53-4).
342 G. Metallidis
is supersubstantial, and, conversely, that which is supersubstantial is incom

prehensible'.
Beyond this definition, knowledge for John discerns that which is 'known'4.
In other words, we are able to offer definitions of what is 'known'. Does this
mean that when we refer to 'theological gnoseology', we are able to contem
plate God? Before we answer this we should note that our author does not
make a grammatical distinction between philosophical and theological knowl
edge5, although in his definitions of what philosophy is he offers a detailed
analysis of the knowledge we have of God through philosophy6. In essence,
for John what is called theological knowledge is part of theoretical philosophy.
Philosophy is divided into two parts, the theoretical and the practical. Theoret
ical philosophy is that which 'sets in order the knowledge', while practical
is that which is engaged with the virtues. "Theoretical philosophy' is itself
divided into three parts: the GeoAoymov, 'theological'; the (pumoAoyucov,
'physiological', or (pvamov, 'physical'; and the fiaGt)naxiKdv, 'mathematical'7.
For 'theological' we comprehend 'the incorporeal and immaterial' beings, that
is, God, the angels, and souls. Through the 'physiological' we recognize
'material' things and beings, like animals, plants, stones, and so on. 'Mathe
matical' is knowledge of immaterial beings which are observed in material
ones. To this category belong numbers and the harmony of notes (= cp86y-
ycov)8. Practical theology, on the other hand, 'adorns conduct (f)Go<;) and
teaches one how to live'9. From the above classifications of philosophy we can
see that only the 'theological' part refers to pure theological knowledge as the
knowledge of God. However, all parts of philosophy can be connected with
'theological knowledge' as they help man either to understand or to express
theological knowledge, beyond all these classifications.
Returning to 'theological gnoseology', John offers more explanatory com
ments to clarify its specific meaning. 'Theological knowledge' is a kind of
knowledge which John would call 'revealed'10 or 'holy'11. In other words,
'theological gnoseology' for John, means the sum of knowledge which is con
4 Dial. 51 (Kotter (1969), pp. 117-8). 'H yap &tt\.axr\\ir\ Kpivei xo £,Ttio-xr|x6v fjyouv f|
yv&mq Kpivei xo yvracrtov. From the word fjyouv used by John in this passage we can say that
the Palestinian monk in a way identifies both lJuornxdv with yvcocrtov and £Tticrtf|pt| with
yvcbaii;.
5 Dial. 3 (Kotter (1969), p. 56). We should note that John Damascene knows the difference
between our knowledge of the uncreated God and of creation.
6 See, e.g., the first and second points in John's sixfold classification of what philosophy is:
a' OiXoaocpia £ctxi yvakri<; xcov ovxcov ... P' OiXooocpia iaxi yvaknc, Geicov xe Kai dvGpa>-
Ttivcov rcpayndxcoV ... (Dial. 3 (Kotter (1969), p. 56)).
7 Dial. 3 (Kotter (1969), p. 56).
8 Dial. 3 (Kotter (1969), p. 56
9 Dial. 3 (Kotter (1969), p. 57.
10 Against the Nestorians 28 (Kotter (1981), p. 273).
11 On the Holy Icons II.4 (Kotter (1975), p. 71).
Theology and Gnoseology and the Formulation of Doctrine in St John Damascene 343
nected directly to God, not as a human achievement but as a divine gift. This
knowledge is kept in the Church and represents its tradition12. For this reason
it justifies or rejects any doctrine which claims to reword the faith13.
Here we should also examine the meaning of the term 'doctrine' or 'dogma'.
St John Damascene offers two definitions of dogma. The first describes what
is called 'dogma' without any other specification, while the second is the
'universal dogma'. We read in the Dialectica, 'Dogma is a seeking after real
piety . . . Universal dogma is an opinion which is offered without compulsion
to everybody and is the rejection of the other and the refutation of the unsuit
able one'14.
From this passage it is obvious that in the first case, doctrine is connected
with a personal opinion, which leads us to agree that it has the meaning of a
personal 'seeking' of truth and piety. The second case gives a specific defini
tion of what is called 'universal dogma'. It expresses the truth as an a priori
reality for all; it is the only justified truth which is beyond any critique; it
expresses true knowledge and defines error.
Returning to the first question, we should ask what comes first, the personal
theology of the Church Fathers or the Church Councils? In other words,
a 'dogma' or a 'universal dogma'? Who is responsible for the formulated
expression of theological knowledge, or, in other words, who is responsible for
the acceptance of a personal patristic position?
From the words used by John in the last passage, we understand that the
term 'universal dogma' has a stronger meaning than 'simple dogma'. Indeed,
in his opera polemica we observe that, although John uses florilegia and
repeats a lot of patristic texts, what he tries to support is the Council of Chal-
cedon along with the distinction between hypostasis and physis and, of course,
the formula 'in two natures'. John starts from the Fourth Ecumenical Council
when he refers to Christology. Patristic florilegia, on the other hand, play a
specific role - to prove John's patristic background and the Chalcedonian
thought of the Church Fathers. For this reason John first rejects the study of
some patristic formulas separately from the Fathers' whole work, and secondly
insists on their consideration in the light of the more accurate explanatory dis
tinction between physis and hypostasis. In essence, the Palestinian monk is not
12 See, for example, Exp. 1 (Kotter (1973), pp. 7-8): Mexa 8e xf|v Ttpcbxnv Kat uaxapiav
cpuo-iv ou8ei<; 6yvco rcoxe xov Geov, ei u,f| qj auxoc, &TteKaA.ml/ev ... orcgp auvecpepev f|uTv
yvcovat &TteKaXui|/ev ... ev auxoTc, neivcouev ht) ... imepPaivovxei; xf|v Geiav Ttapd8oaiv.
John uses very frequently the word &TtoKaXu\|/i<; and its derivations.
13 This is the reason why St John defended the dyophysite faith so strongly. He believes that
only dyophysite Christology expresses the mysterium Christi correctly.
14 9, from Cod. Oxon. Bodl. Auct. T.1.6 (Kotter (1969), p. 161). This passage seems to have
John's personal stamp. At least Kotter does not make any reference to similar passages from
other philosophers or theologians borrowed by John. Here we should also note that, although St
John knows the difference between a dogmatic heresy and schism, he accepts that both of them
can be called 'heresies'. See, for example, Commentarii in epistulas Pauli (PG 95, 657).
344 G. Metallidis
interested in producing theology which simply repeats some patristic formulas.

This is the reason, I think, why he insists on the agreement of the Fathers as
being a safe criterion in order to undertake a theological discussion15. We
understand it better when we read On the Trisagion 7:
We should check over and scrutinize the bywords used by the Church Fathers. They
are patristic and we will not contravene. But we must prove the holy Fathers and
Teachers to be in agreement with each other. And [we must prove the holy Fathers and
Teachers to be] neither in contradiction to themselves not at all, nor fighting one
another.
And for John patristic agreement exists, mainly, in the acta of the Ecumeni
cal Councils, as infallible doctrinal expressions of faith. Indeed John supports
his theology on the foundation of the Church Councils. Patristic florilegia are
simply proof of his Consensus Patrum. In essence the difference between
'simple dogma' and 'universal dogma' is the difference between a personal
opinion and the synodically consolidated faith of the Church.
Evidence of what we have said can we found in the letter Against the Jaco
bites, the most important work among John's opera polemica. We could offer
two proofs. First, John replies to eighth-century Christological problems with
theologians and works which are connected with the interpretation of Chal-
cedon in the sixth century in mind16. In essence, John thinks like the theolo
gian Leontios of Byzantium in the sixth century, although he deals with the
Jacobite arguments of his time. Second and more important, in replying to the
Jacobites, St John Damascene has in mind the Council of Chalcedon and not
Cyril. For John, Cyril of Alexandria is simply an authority in the Christologi
cal disputations - of course the most important - but the Patriarch of Alexan
dria cannot claim to replace of the Council of 45 1 17. Although John discusses
the common ground between Monophysitism and Dyophysitism - the mia
physis formula - with the Jacobites, he interprets Cyril's Christology in gen
eral on the basis of the distinction between the proper meaning of hypostasis
and a ' katachrestikos' , inexact identification between hypostasis and nature, as
we can see in chapter 52 of Against the Jacobites. This echoes, at least, the
Chalcedonian conscience of John, a position quite different from the Jacobite
one which justifies all Christological formulae and Councils only if they are in
agreement with the Jacobite understanding of St Cyril's Christology in general
and the mia physis formula in particular.
15 See On the Trisagion 7 (Kotter (1981), p. 316).

16 John does not, however refer to the Fifth Ecumenical Council; in essence, he overlooks this
Council in his discussions with the Jacobites.
17 In Against the Akephaloi 3 (Kotter (1981), pp. 411-2), for example, John gives the same
value to Cyril's mia physis formula and to a passage from St Gregory Nazianz.cn: 'ETtei8f| 8e
Ttpocpepoucnv f|uiv ... 'juav cpuaiv xoC Geou Xoyou aeaapKcouevr|v', cpauiv, Sxi Taov iaxi
xouTCp Kai xo xoC dyiou rpnyopioi) xoC OeoA,6you frnxov xo cpdaKov 'rflv xo pev £Gecoae,
xo 8e £Gea>Gt|'.
Theology and Gnoseology and the Formulation of Doctrine in St John Damascene 345
In conclusion, we can say that for St John Damascene theological knowl

edge is connected with that which is 'known' or has been revealed. Moreover,
the variety of patristic opinions can be justified only if they are in agreement
with each other. The vital criterion is the Ecumenical Councils. In this per
spective, St John Damascene's consensus patrum plays a dual role - to prove
both this consensus patrum and the agreement that exists between the Church
Fathers and the Ecumenical Councils. His conscious attempt to put the Coun
cil of Chalcedon at the centre of all Christological disputations is, for example,
obvious, either as a confirmation of the patristic tradition of the great Fathers
from before 45 1 or as a confirmation of the patristic tradition after that year.
John's perception and validation of theological gnoseology and its doctrinal
formulation as well depends on the acta of the Ecumenical Councils.
Dionysius the Areopagite and Gregory Palamas:
A 'Christological Corrective'?
Joost van Rossum, Paris
Since the publication of Fr John Meyendorff's doctoral dissertation on Gre

gory Palamas (1296-1359), the relation between the Corpus Areopagiticum
and the Byzantine theologian has been an object of scholarly discussion. At
the Oxford Patristics Conference of 1995, Prof. A.M. Ritter presented a paper
entitled 'Gregor Palamas als Leser des Dionysius Ps.-Areopagita', which was
later published as an article1. The author affirmed the thesis of Meyendorff,
according to which Palamas would have applied a 'christological' or 'christo-
centric corrective' to Dionysius. To quote Meyendorff:
[Palamas] himself made constant use of the Areopagite, applying, as St. Maximus had
done, a christocentric corrective to his thought; nonetheless he came into such clear
opposition to Dionysius that he had to resort to a forced and artificial exegesis of his
thought, in order to avoid a direct attack on so venerable an authority: actually Pala-
mas's christological corrective completely changes the structure of Dionysius's
thought. This is especially the case in his doctrine of hierarchies2.
Meyendorff's study of Palamas had been the object of a critical analysis by
Fr. John Romanides, who published in the early sixties two lengthy articles on
'The Palamite Controversy and Related Topics'3. Romanides did not agree
with Meyendorff's thesis of a 'christological corrective' applied to Dionyius
by Gregory Palamas, and underlined that 'both Dionysius and Palamas belong
to the same tradition'4.
Ritter, for his part, was criticized in a recent article by Fr Alexander
Golitzin5. In this article Golitzin continues in the line of Romanides, saying
that Palamas 'is correcting the mis-reading of the Areopagite which Ritter
and Meyendorff effectively share with Barlaam'. And he concludes that
1 Adolf Martin Ritter, 'Gregor Palamas als Leser des Dionysius Ps.-Areopagita', in Denys
VAreopagite et saposterite en Orient et en Occident, ed. Ysabel de Andia (Paris, 1997), pp. 565-
79.
2 John Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas (London, 1964), p. 189. Note that the orig
inal French version reads 'correctif christologique' : Jean Meyendorff, Introduction d I 'etude de
Gregoire Palamas (Paris, 1959), p. 262.
3 John S. Romanides, 'Notes on the Palamite Controversy and Related Topics', Greek Ortho
dox Theological Review 6 (1960-61) 186-205; 9 (1963-64), 225-70.
4 Ibid., (1963-64), 256.
348 J. VAN Rossum
Meyendorff s thesis of a christological corrective is 'an illusion, a scholarly

invention'6.
In my opinion, the discussion needs to be pursued still further. It is true that
Palamas himself did not want to attack or correct directly the 'Great Diony-
sius', as he likes to call him, but only Barlaam's erroneous interpretation of
him. On the other hand, it seems to me that Meyendorff is not completely
beside the mark in ascribing a 'christological' or 'christocentric corrective'
applied to Dionysius by Palamas. For if it is true that Palamas's exegesis of
Dionysius was not as 'forced and artificial' as Meyendorff suggested, the
ambiguous language and thought of the Areopagite, coloured by that of Neo-
platonism, necessitated such a corrective, especially in Palamas's time. It is
clear that Dionysius himself was not a Neoplatonist. The differences between
his system of the 'hierarchies' and that of Iamblichus and Proclus have been
pointed out by Rene Roques in his well-known study of Dionysius7. But his
language remains ambiguous. Therefore it is not accidental that a Byzantine
'humanist' like Barlaam, who did not understand the mystical and ascetical
tradition of the hesychasts, could interpret Dionysius in his own way. The
same holds true for the reception of the Corpus Areopagiticum in the West, for
example, by Thomas Aquinas.
A particular passage in the Triades of Gregory Palamas plays an important
role in this discussion. Palamas wants here to confirm his thesis that it is pos
sible for human beings to 'see' God without the intermediary of angels:
If through the Spirit, in the Light of the Father, we see the Son as Light, an immediate
union with God and a gift of Light, coming forth from Him, is accessible to us. Our
participation in this Light happens without the intermediary of the angels, even if this
philosopher [Barlaam] does not agree, because he does not understand clearly the
power of the theology of this initiator in the sacred mysteries [Dionysius]8.
These lasts words clearly show that Palamas wants to correct the misread
ing of the Areopagite by Barlaam, as has also been emphasized by Romanides
and Golitzin.
Palamas goes on to say that, according to Dionysius, not all theophanies
happen through the intermediary of angels. As one example the hesychast
theologian mentions the appearance of the angels at the nativity of Christ.
5 Alexander Golitzin, 'Dionysius the Areopagite in the Works of Gregory Palamas. On the
Question of a "Christological corrective" and Related Matters', St. Vladimir's Theological Quar
terly 46 (2002), 163-90.
6 Ibid., pp. 167, 170.
7 Rene Roques, L'univers dionysien. Structure hiirarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys
(Paris, 1983), p. 80: 'En somme, la notion de hierarchie, en passant des derniers neoplatoniciens
a Denys, subit ... modifications substantielles de sens oppose et qui tendent a l'accommoder a la
doctrine chretienne de l'univers et de Dieu ...'
8 Triad II.3.27 in Gregoire Palamas, Defense des saints hisychasles, ed. Jean Meyendorff
(Louvain, 1973), p. 441.
Dionysius the Areopagite and Gregory Palamas 349
Dionysius does not say, he argues, that 'the Glory of God with which they
were surrounded has come into being through the intermediary of angels'9. In
the next chapter Palamas says that a direct vision of God, 'not being transmit
ted by those in the first rank to the ones in the second rank', is possible not
only for the angels, but also for us. For 'the Lord of Lords is not subject to the
laws of creation'. In other words, the Incarnation of the Lord has changed the
relation between God and man. Therefore, the hesychast doctor goes on to say,
it was an Archangel, Gabriel, who was to be 'initiated in the ineffable mystery
of the kenosis of the Word', though the Archangels do not belong to the rank
of angels which 'as those who are first in rank, without intermediaries, stand
around God'. Thus, Palamas continues, 'it is necessary that the beginning of
the New Creation is also new, for he who in his condescension came down to
us has made all things new'.
For He is the Lord of powers, and the King of Glory, who possesses all power, even
that of raising the last above the first when He so desires. But before the apparition of
God in the flesh, nothing of such sort was taught us by angels, nor by prophets, except
for those who by anticipation described the grace to come. Now that it has appeared
there is no more need that everything should be accomplished by intermediaries ...
Palamas concludes this chapter by saying, 'The least having thus become
greatest by grace, still the good order is firmly and wonderfully preserved'10.
In other words, the change of the relation between God and his creation which
is the result of the Incarnation does not lead into chaos. This concern for the
'good order' (f| xf\q euKoauia<; xa£,iq) was characteristic of the ancient, and
especially Greek, world. It is important to remark here that it is a notion which
is central in the system of Dionysius, as has been pointed out by Rene Roques
in his L'univers dionysien11. In using this particular Dionysian vocabulary,
Palamas wants to show that he shares the same tradition with Dionysius.
Romanides and Golitzin are right in stressing this point. Meyendorff, for his
part, explains that, according to Palamas, the 'hierarchies' are retained in the
'natural order': 'In the natural order of things angels are superior to man, but
the Incarnation reverses that order and raises humanity above the skies'12.
Ritter, after discussing the just quoted chapters of the Triads in order to con
firm Meyendorff's thesis of a 'christocentric corrective' to Dionysius, quotes a
passage from the 750 Chapters (34-40). Here the hesychast theologian points
out that this superiority of human beings over the angels does not begin only
with the Incarnation of the Son of God, but at the very moment of creation.
Palamas argues that only human beings have been created in the 'image of
God', having been endowed not only with a 'mind' and a 'reason', like the
9 Triad II.3.28 (Meyendorff, p. 443).

10 Triad. II.3.29 (Meyendorff, pp. 445f.).
11 Roques, pp. 36ff.
12 Meyendorff, Study, p. 191.
350 J. VAN ROSSUM
angels, but moreover with a 'life-giving spirit' that has been joined to their
body. Because of his 'triadic nature', only man 'truly possesses the image and
likeness of God'13.
Golitzin, in his reply to Ritter, repeats the argument of Romanides that the
angels, according to both Dionysius and Palamas, do not 'stand "between" us
and God, at least not in the sense of their blocking our direct access to Him
and to the experience of His Light'. The role of the angels, according to the
monastic and ascetic tradition to which both Dionysius and Palamas belong, is
like that of 'spiritual fathers':
The hierarchical principle has nothing whatsoever to do with the mediated experience
of God, but rather with the leading up to, explanation and testing of that experience. It
is, in short, a fundamentally monastic construct that we confront in the Dionysian
angelology. The angelic hierarchy is nothing so much for him as it is a series of pro
gressively more illumined holy elders14.
The main argument of Romanides and Golitzin, that 'both Dionysius and
Palamas belong to the same tradition', is an important one, and it appears that
Palamas himself is making this statement in the first text from the Triads
which we quoted. However, it seems to me that both Romanides and Golitzin
have overlooked Palamas 's stress on the superiority of human beings over the
angels, and on the meaning of the Incarnation as a radical change in the rela
tion between God and man. These two 'Palamite' themes are not very
'Dionysian', indeed, and deserve our attention. Moreover, Golitzin himself
admits that 'nowhere to my knowledge Dionysius reckons human beings
higher than the angels ,..'15 However, he leaves this observation unanswered
in the rest of his article.
Though both Dionysius and Palamas share the same tradition, there is a dif
ference in accent. Although Palamas may quote the 'Great Dionysius' and
sometimes use his particular vocabulary, the context of his theological thought
is different from that of Dionysius. The mysterious author of the Corpus wants
to express the Christian message in the philosophical language of Neoplaton-
ism, while the hesychast theologian opposes himself vehemently to both the
Greek philosophers and the intellectuals, the 'humanists', of his own day16.
13 Ritter, pp. 577f. Cf. Ch. 40, in Gregory Palamas, The One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, ed.
Robert E. Sinkewicz (Toronto, 1980), p. 126: f| ... xpia8iKri cp6aii;.
14 Golitzin, 'Dionysius', p. 175f. Cf. Romanides, p. 257.
15 Golitzin, 'Dionysius', p. 177.
16 Cf. Triad ffl.2.26 (Meyendorff, p. 689), in which the hesychast theologian emphasizes that
the 'models' of creation (i.e. the divine 'energies') have nothing to do with the Platonic 'Ideas',
and in which he accuses Pythagoras, Plato and Socrates of 'polytheism'. It is interesting to notice
the completely opposite approach by Barlaam. In his Third Letter to Palamas, Plato is almost
considered to be a patristic source besides Dionysius: Barlaam Calabro, Epistole greche, ed.
Giuseppe Schiro (Palermo, 1954), pp. 298f. Sinkewicz points out that Barlaam's interest in Plato
was enhanced by his study of Dionysius: Robert E. Sinkewicz, 'The Solutions addressed to
Dionysius the Areopagite and Gregory Palamas 35 1
Therefore there is a difference, if not in essence, then at least in emphasis and

language (in the sense of the French word langage). In order to confirm what
I have been saying, and to make a small contribution to the discussion, I want
to take a closer look at the ecclesiology of both theologians, or rather at the
roots of their ecclesiology. On this point there is clearly a deep and essential
difference.
For Dionysius, the Church is the ecclesiastical hierarchy. The diversity of
the ministries in the Church is based, he holds, on the principle of hierarchy,
which has been given by God to, and has been embedded in, His creation.
Rene Roques has pointed out that the Dionysian system of hierarchies has its
roots in Neoplatonism, especially Proclus17. For Dionysius, the 'ecclesiastical
hierarchy', that is, the structure of the Church, is just one aspect of the struc
ture of creation. According to this system, the ecclesiastical hierarchy appears
to be a reflection of the 'celestial hierarchy'. Thus, according to Dionysius, the
'hierarch' (that is, the bishop who stands at the head of the ecclesiastical hier
archy), 'imitates the angelic power to bring revelation'18.
Before turning to Palamas, we should reflect briefly on the ecclesiology of
the early Church. What is the basis of the diversity of the ministries, according
to the New Testament writings and the early Fathers of the Church? It is the
notion of the Church as the Body of Christ, and, in relation with this, the
Eucharist. It is sufficient to quote 1 Cor. 10:16-17 to point out the relation
between these two: 'Is not the Bread that we break a communion with the
Body of Christ? Because there is one Bread, we are all one Body. For we par
ticipate all in this one Bread'. The ecclesiology of the early Church is rooted
in the Eucharist. The celebration of the Eucharist, as the sacrament par excel
lence, constitutes the Church and transforms its members into the Body of
Christ. It is the Eucharist which is at the root of the diversity of the ministries
in the Church, and not the hierarchical structure of the Church seen as some
ontological principle. The Eucharist requires a 'president' to preside over the
eucharistic gathering. And the president or 'overseer' (£TuaKoTr.o<;), in turn,
needs assistants, the 'elders' and 'deacons'19.
In the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of Dionysius one can find only one allusion
to the theme of the 'Body of Christ'20. But it does not appear that the notion of
George Lapithes by Barlaam the Calabrian and Their Philosophical Context', Medieval Studies
43(1981) 151-217, at 184f.
17 Roques, pp. 68ff.
18 Dionysius the Areopagite, Celestial Hierarchy 12 (PG 3, 293A).
19 Cf. Metropolite Jean (Zizioulas) de Pergame, L'Eucharistie, l'Eveque et l'Eglise durant les
trois premiers siecles (Paris, 1994), p. 75: 'C'est principalement en elle [l'Eucharistie] que les dif-
ferentes fonctions ont ainsi pu se developper dans I'Eglise primitive, d'ou les differents "ordres",
xdêti;, ont emerge dans l'Eglise'. This essential aspect of the ecclesiology of the early Church,
known as 'eucharistic ecclesiology', has been developed in Orthodox theology especially by the
theologians of the so-called 'Paris school' (Nicholas Afanasiev and Alexander Schmemann).
20 Dionysius the Areopagite, Ecclesiastical Hierarchy 3 (PG 3, 444B). Cf. Roques, p. 268.
352 J. VAN ROSSUM
'hierarchies' is linked to it in any way. Instead of a union between the mem

bers of the one Body, one notices a strong separation between the 'hierarch'
and the faithful:
While the general crowd is satisfied to look at the divine symbols, he [the hierarch], on
the other hand, is continously uplifted by the Divine Spirit toward the most holy source
of the sacramental rite and he does so in blessed and conceptual contemplations, in that
purity which marks his life as it conforms to God21.
Moreover, as Roques has very well observed, Holy Communion is never
referred to as participation in the 'Body and Blood of Christ'22. This does not
necessarily exclude any notion of 'sacramental realism', as Roques and others
have remarked23. The Dionysian language, however, remains ambiguous,
using the term otjuPoXov to denote the liturgical rite of the Eucharist and the
elements of bread and wine.
Palamas, on the contrary, wrote a Homily on the Eucharist, in which the
sacramental realism of the Eucharist and the participation of all members of
the Church in the Body and Blood of Christ is underlined:
... we become participants of His Holy Body and Blood. Through them we are united
with Him and in a divine manner we become one Spirit (rcveOua) and one Body
with Him . . . We have God in ourselves and we become one Body (auoacouoi) with
Him ...24
Nowhere in this homily does Palamas speak about the Church as a 'hierar
chy' that reflects the 'celestial hierarchy'. The notion of 'hierarchy' itself, and
the Dionysian language and vocabulary are completely absent. Perhaps one
could argue that Palamas addressed himself here to a public which was differ
ent from that of Dionysius: the writings of the latter were destined for the
intellectuals of his time, who understood and loved the philosophical language
of their milieu, while the Archbishop of Thessaloniki preached in this sermon
to his faithful, who did not all have a philosophical background. However, it is
also clear that Palamas, finding his inspiration in the theology of St Paul and
the ecclesiology of the early Church, has no need at all of the Dionysian sys
tem of the hierarchies. It is especially interesting to note what he is saying in
this sermon about the role of the angels in the Liturgy. We find here another
21 Dionysius the Areopagite, Ecclesiastial Hierarchy 3 (PG 3.428A).

22 Roques, p. 269.
23 Ibid. Cf. Alexander Golitzin, 'A "Contemplative and a Liturgist": Father Georges
Florovsky on the Corpus Dionysiacum' , Saint Vladimir's Theological Quarterly 43 (1999), 131-
61, at 148f.; Ysabel de Andia, 'Symbole et mystere selon Denys l'Areopagite', SP XXXVII
(Leuven, 200 1 ) 42 1 -5 1 , at 435.
24 Gregory Palamas, Homily 56, 'On the Sacred and Fearful Mysteries of Christ', in St Gre
gory Palamas, HomiliaiXXIl, ed. Sophokles K. Oikonomos (Athens, 1861), pp. 200-212, at 202f.
The term auaaconoi; occurs in Eph. 3:6.
Dionysius the Areopagite and Gregory Palamas 353
example of that important theme of his theology which we discussed above,

namely, the superiority of human beings over the angels.
Gregory writes that during the Liturgy, from the Holy Table 'a Spring [that
is, the chalice of the Eucharist] wells up, which turns the countenance of the
angels to that Beauty in which the manifold Wisdom of God is seen'. And he
continues:
It rouses in them the desire to look from a distance at the grace that is given to us by
this Blood. For when we approach the Holy Mysteries, we are clothed with an imper
ial vestment, yes with imperial Body and Blood, and, o wonder!, we are transformed
into divine sons, while the splendour of God mystically comes upon us and surrounds
us in a manner that surpasses all things ...23
The angels are described here as the spectators of a divine-human drama.
The verb which we translated as 'to look from a distance', rcapaKuTtxeiv, is
worth noticing. It means literally 'to stoop for the purpose of looking', to 'look
sideways' at something, or to 'peep out' (a window)'. Again, the difference
between the angels and human beings is emphasized in this passage. It is not
the angels who are clothed with the 'imperial purple', that is, the grace to
become the 'sons of God'; this grace is given to human beings only. And the
angels show their joyful amazement. The Dionysian theme of the Liturgy as an
imitation of the celestial hierarchy does not fit into this context, which deals
with the superiority of human beings over the angels. And, therefore, Palamas
ignores it completely.
One could argue that we do not find a 'corrective' of Dionysius in this
homily, since the hesychast theologian does not mention him at all and makes
no reference to passages in the Corpus Areopagiticum. He simply forgets him
or ignores him. But this 'absence' of Dionysius — this total ignoring of the
system of the 'hierarchies', and the emphasis on the superiority of human
beings over the angels in the Eucharist - is this not a clear indication of an
implicit or silent 'corrective', even if unconscious, to the ambiguous ecclesiol-
ogy (a christocentric corrective, indeed) of the one whom he elsewhere refers
to as the 'Great Dionysius'?
Ibid., p. 209.
XV. The West to Hilary
Ian L.S. Balfour
Geoffrey D. Dunn
Stefan Freund
J. Albert Harrill
Gabor Kendeffy
Jeronimo Leal
Bryan M. Litfin
Mark Weedman
Tertullian's Religious Beliefs before his Conversion
Ian L.S. Balfour, Edinburgh
Residents of Carthage in the second half of the second century CE had a

wide choice of whom and what to worship1. In seeking to identity Tertullian's
religious beliefs before he adopted Christianity, three filters are required - (1)
geography (Carthage, but not elsewhere), (2) social standing (educated middle
class, but not elite), and (3) time (mid- to late-second century, but not earlier).
Joyce Salisbury, in her 1997 study, 'Perpetua's Passion', phrased it slightly
differently: she analysed 'prevailing ideas in ever-narrowing circles' (Rome,
Carthage, the Christian Community), because '[Perpetua's] martyrdom cannot
be understood outside the spaces and values of Carthage'2. I prefer the word
'filters' to 'ever-narrowing circles', but the point is well made - we must look
for Tertullian's pre-conversion beliefs in his family situation in mid- to late-
second century Carthage.
For the first filter (Carthage, but not elsewhere), Tertullian twice explained
why geography is important - 'Every province and city has its own god', he
wrote, and again, he referred to 'the little coteries of gods in each municipal
ity, which have their honours confined within their own city walls'3. Every
city had its own sacra publica (its public cults), shaped by the local ordo decu-
rionum (defined below), which controlled the city's public religion4.
The powers in Rome were satisfied to leave it on that basis - confident
that the ordo, the elite at Carthage, would direct its municipal cults in the ser
vice of the empire. Their confidence was justified. The ordo in cities like
Carthage willingly identified with Roman cults in two ways. Initially, as
Roman citizens in an alien land, they wanted to 'make a statement' about their
Roman identity. Tertullian tells us that Carthage had instituted its own cult
based on the chief cult of Rome, the Capitoline Triad of Jupiter, Juno, and
Minerva5. By making it part of their own sacra publica, the Romans in
Carthage identified with Rome and distanced themselves from their subjugated
neighbours. Secondly, because the emperor tied them all together, most cities
1 Reasons for this are suggested in J.B. Rives, Religion and Authority in Roman Carthage
from Augustus to Constantine (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995), pp. 186, 192, 234.
2 Joyce E. Salisbury, Perpetua 's Passion: The Death and Memory of a Young Roman Woman
(New York: Routledge, 1997), p. 3.
3 apologeticus 24.7; ad nationes 2.8.7.
4 Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 12, 50, 60, 96, 151, 170, 185.
5 de spectuculis 11.1.
358 I. L.S. Balfour
willingly embraced also the imperial cult, the worship of the emperor as a god,
thus 'making a further statement', this time about their relationship with the
rest of the empire6.
However, by Tertullian's time, there was a third element in the sacra pub
lica of Carthage. The religious calendar now included festivals to selected
native cults (called civitas, municipal) as well as festivals to Roman and impe
rial cults (called pagus). Because the ordo of Carthago was a local body, act
ing in the interests of its own local agenda, the sacra publica of Carthage were
unique to Carthage7.
The second filter we need to apply is Tertullian's social standing (educated
middle class, but not elite). There were different cults for different classes, as
well as cults for married men and other cults for single men, and so on8. Five
things relevant to this paper may be deduced from Tertullian's writings.
(1) Tertullian belonged by birth and upbringing to a reasonably wealthy
middle-class home9.
(2) Tertullian was brought up in a pagan home. The opening words of de
paenitentia are one of his few autobiographical statements - 'men who are as
we ourselves once were, blind and unenlightened by the Lord' - and again in
the apologeticus, 'we too laughed in times past [at the resurrection]. We are
from your own ranks'10. Other writings describe the tutelary deities in his
home life. Starting with Consevius, who presided over conception, and Flu-
viona, who preserved growth in the womb, Tertullian named thirty-eight sepa
rate deities who (he believed before his conversion) had supervised his devel
opment11. At school, the letters of the alphabet were memorised by chanting
the names of pagan gods.
(3) Tertullian was born into African provincial stock - he called himself
Poenicum inter Romanos and he was proud of his ancestry. 'Tertullian's Punic
blood palpably pulsates in his style, with its archaisms or provincialisms, its
glowing imagery, its passionate temper'12.
(4) Tertullian received a liberal education, which paid special attention to
the gods and goddesses of the Graeco-Roman pantheon. The Christian Tertul
lian pondered whether Christian parents should send their children to pagan
schools. He recommendd that they should, or the children would grow up illit
erate, but Christian teaching at home was essential to counter the earnestness
6 Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 13, 39-42, 51, 61-3, 76, 80, 96-8; Salisbury, Perpetua's
Passion, pp. 15-17.
7 Rives, Religion and Authority, p. 170.
8 Salisbury, Perpetua's Passion, pp. 12-13.
9 apologeticus 7 and ad nationes, 1.7.15 (domestic servants); de cultus feminarum 2.5.4 (our
slaves); adversus Valentinianos 3.3 (nurse).
10 de paenitentia 1.1; apologeticus 18.4.
11 ad nationes 2.11.1-12.
12 depallio 2.1; Schaff s Encyclopaedia, Internet edition, 'Tertullian', p. 1.
with which the grammaticus taught the class to worship the traditional
gods13.
(5) Tertullian was not a member of the elite, the ordo decurionum (order of
decurions), which controlled the sacra publica at Carthage. Numbering 100
wealthy and influential men over the age of twenty-five, it controlled not only
the religious life of the city - the dates of festivals, sacrifices, new cults, new
temples, and so on - but also the city's public finances and buildings and pub
lic business in general4.
The third filter is to concentrate on the second half of the second century CE,
but no earlier. Until the second century, the Romans who ruled Carthage regarded
themselves as Roman citizens who had made Carthage their home. They were,
and wanted to be, an island of Roman culture in a sea of Berbers and Punics, who
worshipped their own gods in a separate forum from the one where Romans wor
shipped. The ordo promoted both, but it promoted them separately15.
However, as the descendants of the Roman colonists began to identify with
the land where they lived, they invited Berbers (the original inhabitants of the
area) and Punics (the descendants of the Phoenician immigrants) to join them
in the ordo. Berbers and Punics responded enthusiastically, and public religion
in Carthage changed out of all recognition. The practices of three previously
disparate groups substantially converged during the second half of the second
century, so we cannot seek for Tertullian's religious beliefs only in the devo
tions of a Punic family. By the time he was growing up, the ordo was promot
ing a collective religious identity that embraced all three traditions16.
So what were Tertullian's religious beliefs before his conversion, defining
religious beliefs as 'belief in Spiritual Beings'17? They may be explored in
three stages.
1. Where Tertullian worshipped
'No place is completely free from idols', he wrote in de spectaculis1*, but

Tertullian mentioned four particular places which he had frequented before his
conversion.
13 de idololatria 10.1, 4-6; C.B. Daly, 'Tertullian on Roman Education', The Irish Ecclesias
tical Record 89 (1958), 14-23.
14 Margaret M. Baney, Some Reflections of Life in the Writings of Tertullian (Washington:
Catholic University of America Press, 1948), pp. 122-3; Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 32-3,
38,51,113,185.
15 Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 61-2, 158, 176.
16 Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 51, 70, 114, 117, 152-3, 161-5, 250; Salisbury, Per-
petua's Passion, pp. 40-1.
17 E.B. Taylor, Primitive Culture, 6th edn., 2 vols. (London, 1920), 1, 424, suggests 'belief in
Spiritual Beings' as the 'minimum definition of Religion'.
18 de spectaculis 8.9.
360 I. L.S. Balfour
The Byrsa. Public life was centred on this acropolis, which dominated cen
tral Carthage. Reading parts of de idololatria is like walking with Tertullian
through the Byrsa, seeing idolatry in every shop, temple, altar, and plaza.
Clearly Tertullian had celebrated the festivals he mentions here, the Saturnalia,
the New Year and Midwinter festivals, the Feast of Matrons, and many more,
so vividly does he describe them19.
The Amphitheatre. Tertullian described at first hand the processions and
gladiatorial fights and sacrifices in the amphitheatre on the north-west of the
city. 'We have laughed ...'; 'we once saw ...'; 'we watched ...'. It was, he
said as a Christian, essentially one huge heathen temple, with its 'wretched
business of incense and blood'20.
The Circus (stadium), on the west edge of the city. Chariot and foot racing,
jumping and wrestling were held here, and Tertullian the Christian remem
bered the altar at the goal posts, where sacrifices were offered, the processions
of idols, the temple to the sun in the middle, and the numerous ornaments ded
icated to pagan deities21.
Theatres. On the opposite side of the city, Carthage had two theatres, to
which Tertullian later objected, partly because of the immodesty and immoral
ity of the plays, but primarily because the plays acknowledged pagan gods, as
he himself had formerly done. 'No one is able to describe all the details at full
length except one who is still in the habit of going to the shows. I myself pre
fer to leave the picture incomplete rather than to recall it'22.
2. How Tertullian worshipped
We may reasonably assume that he had participated in eight aspects of

pagan worship, which he later condemned.
• Burning incense at shrines and altars was one of the simplest ways to
worhip pagan deities - done so easily that some Christians did not see it
as idolatry23.
• Libations. Even to hand the wine to the person who was sacrificing was,
Tertullian warned, to participate in the worship of the deity in question24.
19 de idololatria, 14.6; Salisbury, Perpetua's Passion, pp. 40; Rives, Religion and Authority,
pp. 23, 27,40,44, 61-2, 156.
20 ad nationes 1.10.47; apologeticus 15.1, 5-6; de spectaculis 11.1-2, 12.7, 21.3; Salisbury,
Perpetua's Passion, p. 40.
21 de spectaculis 5.7, 7.2-5, 8.1, 8.3-4, 9.2-5, 18.3, 21.2; Salisbury, Perpetua's Passion, p.
40; Rives, Religion and Authority, p. 27.
22 apologeticus 15.1-2; de spectuculis, 10.2-5, 17.1-7, 19.5 (quotation), 21.2; Salisbury, Per
petua's Passion, p. 40.
23 de idololatria 2.2, 11.6.
24 de idololatria 17.1.
• Animal sacrifices. 'Blood and smoke and fetid, burning heaps of animal
flesh', as Tertullian described animal sacrifices to the gods, were of fun
damental importance in pagan Carthage25.
• Prayers. In his exposition of the Lord's Prayer, Tertullian made passing
references to the part which prayer played in pagan worship26.
• Garlands. On feast days, Tertullian's school had been wreathed with
flowers; decorating houses and temples and public buildings was an
important part of pagan worship. Christians were conspicuous by their
refusal to hang out garlands on these occasions27.
• Feasts in honour of the gods were an integral part of the school curricu
lum and continued throughout adult life. Tertullian acidly commented,
'Wantonness and drukenness are there, since pagan festivals are mostly
frequented for the sake of food and drink and lust'28.
• Mutual oaths to pagan deities often finalised business deals. Tertullian
suggested that pagans, anxious to do business with Christians, might be
prepared to conclude the deal without requiring the Christian actually to
name the god. Clearly Tertullian, before his conversion, had acknowl
edged the required deities as a normal routine of life29.
• Private cults. In cosmopolitan Carthage, public cults were supplemented
by many private religious groupings, ethnic groups, trade groups, and
many more30. Tertullian gives little detail about them except for the cult
of Mithras, which he mentions three times. Whether he knew it as a per
sonal experience has been much debated, and time precludes pursuing the
question here31.
3. What Tertullian believed
A resident of Carthage, in the second half of the second century, did not
need to believe anything, so long as he or she conformed outwardly with the
sacra publica laid down by the ordo. People who were sceptical in their hearts
could and did offer sacrifices to the community gods, and throw incense on the
flame to honour the emperor32. So what did Tertullian believe? I offer three
suggestions.
First, it is hard to imagine anyone of Tertullian's sincerity, conviction, and
passion attending sacrifices, throwing incense, and pouring libations (as he
25 apologeticus 23.14; de idololatria 2.2.
26 E.g., de oratione 15.2.
27 apologeticus 35.4; de idololatria 10.4.
28 de idololatria 1.4 (quotation), 10.1 (school feasts).
29 de idololatria 23.1-7.
30 Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 12, 110, 172, 184-6, 192, 204, 214.
31 de corona 15.3-4; de praescriptione 40.4; adversus Marcionem 1.13.5.
32 apologeticus 10.1, 35.1-7.
362 I. L.S. Balfour
undoubtedly did) without believing, at least initially, in their efficacy. Pierre

de Labriolle suggested that '[Tertullian's] horror of paganism, even where it
was least open to blame, might have proceeded from his hatred of a past,
whereof he felt in himself the re-awakenings'33. What Tertullian avoided as a
Christian may be a good description of his religious beliefs before his conver
sion. When he recollected that at the games 'his mind (was) raised and his soul
(was) stirred', he is clearly telling us that he was a passionate, not a detached,
observer of the festivities34.
Secondly, Tertullian, as Poenicum inter Romanos, had a particular interest
in the Punic gods of Carthage, whose celebrations included:
• the festival to Aesculapius, the grandest of the Carthaginian festivals,
when priests led a procession and then performed public animal sacri
fices, followed by days of theatrical events and gladiatorial contests, cul
minating in chariot races in the Circus35;
• the festivities for Caelestis, originally the Punic goddess Tank, now the
patron native goddess of Carthage36; and
• the games to Ceres from 12 to 19 April - Ceres, whose devotees' virgin
ity he held up as an example to Christians37.
Thirdly, in Tertullian's classical education, philosophers exercised more
spiritual influence than the priests of Carthagnian religion. Which of them
most attracted Tertullian has been widely debated, but he so often agreed with
Seneca that he once called him saepe Hoster3*. Seneca wrote, 'God is near you,
he is with you, he is within you ... [A] holy spirit indwells within us, one who
marks our good and bad deeds, and is our guardian'39. A singular God; a sin
gular guardian. Had Tertullian already come to believe in one supreme deity,
superior to the plethora of lesser deities, the gods of Cathage, before he gave
his allegiance to the deus Christianorumlw
33 Pierre de Labriolle, History and Literature of Christianity from Tertullian to Boethius, tr.
Herbert Wilson (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Triibner & Co., 1924), p. 61.
34 de spectaculis 15.6.
35 de anima 1.6; apologeticus 14.5, 23.6, 46.5; de corona 8.2; de idololatria 20.2; ad
nationes 2.2.12, 2.14.14; de pallio 1.2, 4.10; de testimonio animae 2.7; Rives, Religion and
Authority, pp. 154-6, 181-3.
36 apologeticus 12.4, 23.6, 24.7; ad nationes 2.8; Rives, Religion and Authority, pp. 65-9,
162-9.
37 apologeticus 11.6, 13.9, 16.6; de exhortatione castitatis 13.2; ad nationes 1.12.3, 2.7.15;
de pallio 4.10; de spectaculis 6.2; de testimonio animae 2.7; ad uxorem 1.6.4; Rives, Religion
and Authority, pp. 155-8.
38 de anima 20.1.
39 Seneca, Epistle 41.1 (tr. Richard M. Gummere, LCL (1917)).
40 Space prohibits a full list of recent works analysing the factors which led to Tertullian's
conversion but three major ones are Timothy David Barnes, Tertullian: A Historical and Liter-
aty Study (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971), p. 274; Jean Claude Fredouille, Tertullien et la con
version de la culture antique (Paris: Etudes Augustiniennes, 1972), pp. 410-85; and Johannes
Klein, Tertullian: Christliche Bewusstsein unci sittliche Forderungen (Hildesheim: H.A. Ger-
stenberg, 1975 [Dusseldorf, 1940]), pp. 470-8.
Cyprian's Care for the Poor:
The Evidence of De Opere et Eleemosynis
Over a century ago, E.W. Watson considered Cyprian's de Opere et Eleemosy

nis to be the bishop's response, while in hiding during the Decian persecution of
249 to 250, to Felicissimus, the dissident deacon in Carthage, and five presbyters
for interfering with the funds Cyprian had entrusted to two loyal bishops, Caldo-
nius and Herculanus, and two loyal presbyters, Rogatianus and Numidicus, for
those faithful Christians who found themselves unable to exercise their trades
because of the persecution1. If true, we may date this work shortly after March
251, when Cyprian wrote Epistula 41 to his four loyal agents2. Watson identified
the Pharisee addressed in chapter 12 oi de Opere et Eleemosynis with Felicis
simus and his ilk3.
I am not convinced by Watson's arguments. In this paper I wish to argue
that de Opere et Eleemosynis is consistent with Cyprian's thinking in the time
after the Decian persecution. I shall consider the question of dating in order to
place this work within the context of the pastoral ministry of care for the poor.
Although some have supported Watson's dating4, I am not alone in arguing
against it. Some have wanted to date it to a time just before the Decian perse
cution5. Giovanni Toso thinks it must come before the plague because, after
that, Cyprian's care extended to the pagans and they receive no mention in the
treatise6. Others, like Quasten, Duquenne, Sage, and Simonetti have placed it,
following what is accepted as a chronology of Cyprian's treatises in Pontius7,
1 E.W. Watson, 'The de Opere et Eleemosynis of St. Cyprian', JThSt 2 (1901), 432-8, at 437.
2 See G.W. Clarke, The Letters of St. Cyprian of Carthage, vol. 2, Letters 28-54, ACW 44
(New York, 1984), p. 200.
3 Watson, p. 433.
4 Acacio Gutierrez, 'La teologie de la limosina en S. Cipriano, "De opere et eleemosynis'",
Revista Espanola de teologia 27 (1967), 19-32, at 19-20.
5 L. Wohleb, 'Cyprian de opere et eleemosynis', ZNTW 25 (1926), 270-8; Edward V. Rebe-
nack, Thasci Caecili Cypriani De opere et eleemosynis, Patristic Studies 94 (Washington, D.C.,
1962), pp. 5-16; Michael A. Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible: A Study in Third-Century Exegesis
(Tubingen, 1971), p. 20; Chalres Arnold Bobertz, 'Cyprian of Carthage as Patron: A Social
Historical Study of the Role of Bishop in the Ancient Christian Community of North Africa'
(PhD diss., Yale University, 1988), p. 58, n. 18.
6 Giovanni Toso, Opere di San Cipriano (Turin, 1980), pp. 299-301.
7 Pontius, Vita 7 (CSEL 3.3. (ed. G. Hartel, 1871), xcvii-xcviii).
364 G.D. Dunn
in 252 or 253, after the plague and de Mortalitate1': More recently, Ceccon
dated it to some time in 25 1 after the synod9. Finally, Michel Poirier, follow
ing Monceaux, has dated it a little later and a little less precisely, to between
253 and 25610. Of course, all suggestions for dating this work, even my own,
are tentative at best, based upon glimpses, conjecture, and possible connec
tions with other references.
An appreciation for the occasion of this text and the teaching it contains
may come from an understanding of its structure. Poirier has offered one such
structure for de Opere et Eleemosynis: an introduction (1-3), an exhortation
(4-8), a response to an objection (9-15), a response to a further objection (16-
20), an appeal to do better (21-23), and a conclusion (24-26)11. While Poirier
is conscious of Cyprian's rhetorical style, particularly in the later chapters of
the work12, 1 would like to propose a more obviously rhetorical arrangement of
the whole treatise. I believe it follows a traditional construction. It opens with
an exordium that lists the benefits to humankind of divine mercy, including the
ability to earn remission of sins through almsgiving (l)13. There follows apar-
titio in which Cyprian outlines the facts about the redemptive value of alms
giving as found in scriptural texts and distinguishes his point of view from his
opponents who believe that they have no further need of forgiveness after bap
tism (2-3). Then comes a digressio about the other reasons why almsgiving is
important (4). Then comes the main body of the work, divided into a confir-
matio (5-8) and a refutatio (9-21). Finally, there is a peroratio, in which
Cyprian exhorts his readers to their pastoral responsibilities of caring for the
poor in order to receive God's reward for themselves.
What is clear immediately from this proposal is that this work is not a gen
eral treatise on the question of almsgiving. Instead, it is concerned with one
particular dimension of the topic, namely, the benefits for the almsgiver. It
refers to only one type of almsgiver, namely, those who need to be engaged in
8 Johannes Quasten, Patrology, vol. 2, The Ante-Nicene Literature After Irenaeus (Utrecht,
1953), p. 358; Luc Duquenne, Chronologie des lettres de S. Cyprien: Le dossier de la persecu
tion de Dice, SH 54 (Brussels, 1972), p. 160; Michael M. Sage, Cyprian, Patristic Monograph
Series 1 (Cambridge, Mass., 1975), pp. 381-3; M. Simonetti, 'Praefatio', in Sancti Cypriani
Episcopi Opera, CCL 3A (Turnhout, 1976), p. 54.
9 M. Ceccon, 'Note sulla cronologia del De opere et eleemosynis di Cipriano di Cartagine',
in Quaderni del Dipartimento di filologia, linguistica e tradizione classica (Bologne, 1995),
pp. 135-57.
10 Paul Monceaux, Saint Cyprien, Eveque de Carthage (Paris, 1914), p. 124; Michel Poirier,
'Charite individuelle et action sociale, Reflexion sur l'emploi du mot munus dans le De opere et
eleemosynis de saint Cyprien', SP XII (1975), 254-60, at 254; idem, 'Dans l'atelier d'un eveque
ecrivain. Enquete sur la maniere d'ont Cyprien de Carthage conduit sa pensee, compose, et r£dige
son ouvrage, dans le de Opere et Eleemosynis', REL 71 (1993), 239-50, at 239; idem, Cyprien de
Carthage: La bienfaisance et les aumones, SC 440 (Paris, 1999), p. 21.
11 Poirier, Cyprien. Le bienfaisance, pp. 27-8.
12 Ibid., pp. 40-5.
13 Cyprian, de Oper. 1 (CCL 3A [ed. M. Simonetti, 1976], 55).
Cyprian's Care for the Poor: The Evidence of De Opere et Eleemosynis 365
almsgiving in order to be purged of their sins. The presence of what I consider

amounts to a digressio is an indication that Cyprian was very much aware that
he was not trying to say everything that could be said about almsgiving but
was ensuring that his specific comments could be located within that wider
context. This work, then, is not an abstract, theological reflection but is a prac
tical exhortation to action14. It should more properly be called a pastoral letter,
like de Habitu Virginum, as I have argued elsewhere15. While it contains theo
logical argumentation and presumes the general context, what it shows is a
bishop engaged in the exercise of his pastoral ministry.
In the partitio we find that Cyprian's objective was to illustrate the impor
tance of the idea found in Prov. 16:6 - that faith and almsgiving purge sins16.
He speaks of the need to wash away the foulness that is contracted after bap
tism because of sin, which is inevitable because of human infirmity and weak
ness17. Throughout the partitio there is reference to the need to subdue the
flame of sin, do away with the foulness of the inside, and be cleansed, and to
the wound of conscience that needs to be healed18. Can we find an identifiable
group within the Christian community and an occasion that would have
prompted Cyprian to write as he did?
At first, one might think that the sacrificati, for whom a pastoral solution
was devised by the African bishops at the 25 1 synod, would be suitable candi
dates19. The synod had decided that those who had offered sacrifice should do
penance for the rest of their lives and be readmitted to communion just before
death20. In de Lapsis, Cyprian indicated just what form that penance was to
take: prayer, weeping, fasting, and, above all, almsgiving21. On this reading it
would be that in de Opere et Eleemosynis Cyprian had found a way by which
to cajole some of the wealthy into helping the poor - their self-interest in
obtaining forgiveness for their sin of lapsing. This idea had begun to occur in
some of his letters in the last year of his hiding22. Poirier is not convinced of
14 Cf. Poirier, 'Charite individuelle', p. 254.

15 Geoffrey D. Dunn, 'Infected Sheep and Diseased Cattle, or the Pure and Holy Flock:
Cyprian's Pastoral Care of Virgins', JECS 11 (2003), 1-20, at 6.
16 Cyprian, de Oper. 2 (CCL 3A, 55).
17 Ibid. 1 (CCL 3A, 55).
18 Ibid. 2-3 (CCL 3A, 55-6).
19 See Joseph A. Fischer, 'Die Konzilien zu Karthago und Rom in Jahr 251', Annuarium
Historiae Conciliorum 11 (1979), 263-86; Geoffrey D. Dunn, "The Carthaginian Synod of 251:
Cyprian's Model of Pastoral Ministry', in / concili della cristianita occidentale secoli HI - V (xxx
incontro di studiosi dell'antichita cristiana, Roma 3-5 maggio 2001), Studia Ephemeeridis
Augustinianum 78 (Rome, 2002), pp. 235-57.
20 Cyprian, Epp. 55.17.3 (CCL 3B [ed. G.F. Diercks, 1994], 276); 57.1.1 (CCL 3B, 301).
21 Idem, de Laps. 35 (CCL 3 [ed. R. Weber and M. Bevenot, 1973], 240-241). See Geoffrey
D. Dunn, 'The White Crown of Works: Cyprian's Early Pastoral Ministry of Almsgiving in
Carthage, ' CH 73 (2004), 7 1 5-40.
22 Cyprian, Ep. 16.2.3 (CCL 3B, 92).
366 G.D. Dunn
the direct connection23. I am not sure I agree with all of his reasoning, for I
think we are able to read the same sentiments in both works24. However, I do
agree with him that Cyprian's addressees are not the wealthy sacrificati
because of other evidence.
In the context of the refutatio, where he responds to the objections from the
wealthy sinners, Cyprian refers to them participating in the eucharist and tak
ing from the contributions of the poorer members to the feast, without making
any contribution of their own25. This cannot apply to the sacrificati, who were
cut off from communion until after the 253 synod. Whatever sin is referred to,
it cannot be that of lapsing. As an aside, I note Bobertz's point, based on chap
ters 15 and 16, with which I agree, that the act of charity was to take place in
a liturgical context26.
Ceccon wants to argue for a connection between de Lapsis and de Ecclesiae
Catholicae Vnitate on the one hand and de Opere et Eleemosynis on the other,
in that in all of them we find Cyprian focusing on how self-interest prevented
Christians from caring for the poor27. He offers several passages from the first
two treatises as illustrations28 to parallel passages from de Opere et Eleemosy
nis29. While it must be granted that Cyprian is concerned in all three treatises
with, among other things, the lack of charity coming from the wealthy, it also
has to be pointed out that de Lapsis and de Ecclesiae Catholicae Vnitate
reflect a different context from the latter. In de Lapsis the point that is being
made is that almsgiving is recommended only to the lapsi, who had lapsed in
the first place because of their attachment to their wealth and their prior
unwillingness to be charitable with their resources. There is no sense here that
Cyprian had to urge the faithful remnant of his church to almsgiving, since this
remnant were either the poor (and would be the recipients rather than the
providers) or were those among the wealthy who, because of their prior prac
tice of almsgiving, were not so attached to their possessions that they lapsed
during the persecution to protect them (and who were already onside with
Cyprian's policy). We know next to nothing about this latter group. Although
not nearly so specific, Cyprian's references in de Ecclesiae Catholicae Vnitate
can be seen in the same context as being about the lapsi. The atoning need for
almsgiving for the lapsi is life-long in de Lapsis30. In de Opere et Eleemosynis
23 Poirier, Cyprien. Le bienfaisance, p. 19.

24 See Cyprian, de Laps. 35 (CCL 3, 240) and de Oper. 5 (CCL 3A, 58).
26 Bobertz, 'Cyprian of Carthage as Patron', pp. 61-4.
27 Ceccon, 'Note sulla cronologia', pp. 151-7.
28 Cyprian, de Laps. 6 (CCL 3, 223); 11 (CCL 3, 226-7); 35 (CCL 3, 240-1); de Vnit. 25
(CCL 3, 267); 26 (CCL 3, 267); 27 (CCL 3, 268).
29 Idem, de Oper. 2 (CCL 3A, 55-6); 3 (CCL 3A, 56-7); 5 (CCL 3A, 57-8); 13 (CCL 3A,
63); 25 (CCL 3A, 71).
30 Idem, de Laps. 15 (CCL 3, 229); 35-36 (CCL 3, 240-2).
Cyprian's Care for the Poor: The Evidence of De Opere et Eleemosynis 367
the sin about which Cyprian talks in the opening chapters does not seem quite
so serious. My earlier point about those addressed in this treatise being in com
munion makes it clear that this treatise and the other two come from different
contexts, addressing different groups.
Is the plague a more likely occasion? Pontius informs us that after the out
break of plague, between 252 and 253, Cyprian instructed the Christians of
Carthage on how almsgiving brings benefits from God and then added that
Christian charity should be given to pagans as well as Christians31. Sage, for
one, sees parallels between this description of the content of Cyprian's address
as reported by Pontius and de Opere et Eleemosynis32. Watson's argument
against this was that there was no direct reference to plague in de Opere et
Eleemosynis32'. Rebenack and Toso believe that Cyprian's text does not contain
the second part of Pontius' description, namely, the need to be charitable to
pagans. However, the scriptural allusion in Pontius to Matt. 5:45 - to the God
who sends rain upon just and unjust alike - is found, I believe, in de Opere et
Eleemosynis, a point not noted by Rebenack, Ceccon, or Porier34. Indeed, the
second last chapter of Cyprian's pastoral letter urges Christians to recognise
that what God has provided is for the benefit of the whole human race35. Even
though the end of the chapter does refer to fraternitas, which is a reference to
the Christian community in Cyprian, I do not think that we can state that chap
ter 25 of de Opere et Eleemosynis is connected with what we find in Pontius
in only a 'loose way'36. 1 think the connection is much stronger. Pontius' state
ment that Cyprian said that the good Christian imitates God, who acts as a
good father37, finds it echo in the second half of de Opere et Eleemosynis as
well38.
Why is there no direct mention of the plague? I would not make too much
out of the lack of direct reference to the plague. Even in those letters Cyprian
composed around the same time, there is only the vaguest hint of the plague39.
Just as de Mortalitate is a call for all Christians not to cling to life in the face
of plague, de Opere et Eleemosynis is, I think, a call to wealthier Christians
not to cling to their possessions for fear of the economic effects of plague, but
to use them charitably to overcome the sin of their attachment to them. Thus,
I see no reason not to date de Opere et Eleemosynis to just after the outbreak
of the plague. If it were written after the spring synod of 253, when all the
31 Pontius, Vita 9 (CSEL 3.3, xcix).

32 Sage, Cyprian, pp. 381-2.
33 Watson, 'The de Opere,' p. 433.
34 Cyprian, de Oper. 25 (CCL 3A, 71-2).
35 Ibid.
36 Rebenack, Thasci Caecili Cypriani, p. 4.
37 Pontius, Vita 9 (CSEL 3.3, c).
38 Cyprian, de Oper. 19-20 (CCL 3A, 67-8).
39 Idem, Ep. 59.6.1 (CCL 3C, 347).
368 G.D. Dunn
penitent lapsi (the wealthier Christians) had been readmitted to communion,

then perhaps Cyprian's comments were directed towards those who were, in
this new situation, showing the same reluctance to part with their possessions
as they had during the time of persecution.
Elsewhere I have argued against Charles Bobertz' position that patronage
was at the heart of Cyprian's episcopal activity in his early years as shepherd
of the Christians in Carthage, by arguing that, while important, it was not the
only factor, and that one must not discount the religious as well as the socio
political motives40. I think that in de Opere et Eleemosynis too, I find evidence
to support my reading. In chapter 21 Cyprian urges Christians not to be like
non-Christians who give in order to impress those of a higher social standing
than themselves. Almsgiving was not to turn the poor into one's clients, but to
acknowledge, in the language of patronage, that one was a client of God - the
only patron. Cyprian wants wealthy Christians to think not in terms of the
earthly rewards of patronage, but of the religious rewards, which are eternal,
of almsgiving41.
From de Opere et Eleemosynis we do not learn a great deal at all about how
Cyprian operated as bishop in the exercise of his pastoral care for the poor,
other than that he gave instruction to a part of his community about its impor
tance. In so doing he was attuned to changing circumstances and situations.
Times of difficulty tested the resources of the Christian community and made
those best able to contribute to charity less inclined to do so for fear of their
own position. Almsgiving was a ministry in which all Christians could and
must participate. Those who did not would sin, and only by reversing their
reluctance could that sin be purged. As bishop, Cyprian's ministry was to set a
good example and to exhort his fellow Christians, particularly those from a
similar social and financial background to himself, to fulfill their pastoral
responsibilities.
40 Bobertz, 'Cyprian of Carthage as Patron'; Dunn, 'The white Crown of Works', 718.
References to Mary in the Writings of Cyprian of Carthage
In Luigi Gambero's survey of Mary in patristic thought, the only comment

we find about Cyprian with regard to Mary is that Tertullian made more refer
ences to her than he did1. Bertrand Buby says that there is but one passage in
Cyprian's writings that speaks of Mary, albeit a significant one2. While the
passage in ad Quirinum is important, Buby is wrong to claim that it is the only
time Cyprian referred to Mary. I am not surprised at this, given that in his dis
cussion on Tertullian3 he does not mention the one point where Tertullian is an
early (though not quite original) witness to the tradition about Mary, not
Joseph, being of Davidic descent4. In his discussion about biblical characters
of some significance in Cyprian's writings, Michael Fahey does not mention
Mary5.
In his paper I wish to present all eleven references to Mary in Cyprian's
writings and consider their importance in the development of the cult of Mary
in the Christian community of Carthage in late antiquity. This research is a
contribution to the International Mariology Project, which is a collaborative
project undertaken by a number of scholars throughout the world to investigate
the development of the cult of Mary in the time before the Council of Ephesus
in 43 1 in a thorough and comprehensive survey.
In his ten years as bishop of Carthage, the second largest city in the west
ern Mediterranean, Cyprian dealt with the repercussions of imperial persecu
tion of Christians, first under the emperor Decius in 249-2506 and then under
1 Luigi Gambero, Mary and the Fathers of the Church: The Blessed Virgin Mary in Patristic
Thought (San Francisco, 1999), p. 60.
2 Bertrand Buby, Mary of Galilee, vol. 3, The Marian Heritage of the Early Church (New
York, 1997), p. 99.
3 Ibid., pp. 75-86.
4 See Geoffrey D. Dunn, 'The Ancestry of Jesus according to Tertullin: ex David per
Mariam', SP XXXVI (2001), 349-55.
5 Michael A. Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible: A Study in Third-Century Exegesis (Tubingen,
1971), pp. 555-611.
6 For various arguments about the scope and date of this persecution see J.P. Knipfing, 'The
libelli of the Decian Persecution', HTR 16 (1923), 345-90; A. Alfoldi, 'Zu den Christenverfol-
gungen in der Mitte des 3. Jahrhunderts', Klio n.f. 13 (1938), 323-48; J. Schwartz, 'Une declara
tion de sacrifice du temps de Dece', RB 54 (1947), 365-9; Charles Saumagne, 'A persecution de
Dece en Afrique d'apres la correspondance de S. Cyprien', Byzantion 32 (1962), 1-29; W.H.C.
Frend, Martyrdom and Persecution in the Early Church (Oxford, 1965), pp. 389-439; G.W.
Clarke, 'Some Observations on the Persecution of Decius', Antichtlon 3 (1969), 63-76; idem,
370 G. D. Dunn
Valerian in 257-2587. His episcopate was dominated by the issues of how to

deal with Christians who had lapsed in the face of persecution, how to handle
those who opposed this episcopal pastoral policies (either accusing him of
being too lax or too rigorous in what he demanded), and what to do with those
baptized into Christian communities that had formed in opposition to him. The
information we have comes mainly from Cyprian's own writings: the eighty-
one or eighty-two letters he either wrote or received that have survided and the
eleven, twelve, or thirteen longer works, many of which are pastoral letters
that deal in a treatise-like fashion with the practical side of theological issues8.
'Double-Trials in the Persecution of Decius', Historia 22 (1973), 650-63; P. Keresztes, 'The

Decian libelli and Contemporary Lierature', Latomus 34 (1975), 761-81; Michael M. Sage,
Cyprian, Patristic Monograph Series 1 (Cambridge, Mass., 1975), p. 174; G.W. Clarke, The Let
ters of St. Cyprian of Carthage, vol. 1, Letters 1-27, ACW 43 (New York, 1984), p. 25; J.B.
Rives, 'The Decree of Decius and the Religion of Empire ',JRS 89 (1999), 135-54; Yvette Duval,
'Le debut de la persecution de Dece a Rome (Cyprien, Ep. 37)', REA 46 (2000), 157-72.
7 See G.W. Clarke, 'Prosopographical Notes on the Epistles of Cyprian III, Rome in August,
258', Latomus 34 (1975), 437-48; P. Keresztes, 'Two Edicts of the Emperor Valerian', VC 29
(1975), 81-95; Michael M. Sage, 'The Persecution of Valerian and the Peace of Gallienus',
Wiener Studien 17 (1983), 137-59; C.J. Haas, 'Imperial Religious Policy and Valerian's Perse
cution of the Church, A.D. 257-260', CH 52 (1983), 123-44.
8 On the authenticity of Ep. 82 see Maurice Bevenot, 'A New Cyprianic Fragment', BJRULM
28 (1944), 76-82; G.W. Clarke, The Letters of St. Cyprian of Carthage, vol. 4, Letters 67-82,
ACW 47 (New York, 1989), pp. 319-21. On the authenticity of quod Idol, see E.W. Watson,
'The Style and Language of St. Cyprian', in Studia Biblica et Ecclesiastica 4 (Oxford, 1896),
p. 193; H. Koch, Cyprianische Untrsuchungen, Arbeiten zur Kirchengeschichte 4 (Berlin, 1926),
pp. 1-78; H. Diller, 'In Sachen Tertullian-Minucius Felix', Philologus 90 (1935), 98-114, 216-
39; B. Axelson, 'Quod idola und Lactanz', Eranos 39 (1941), 67-74; M. Simonetti, 'Sulla pater-
nita del Quod idola dii non sint', Maia 3 (1950), 365-88; Johannes Quasten, Patrology, vol. 2,
The Ante-Nicence Literature after Irenaeus (Utrecht, 1953), pp. 363-4; Maurice Bevenot, The
Tradition of Manuscripts: A Study in the Transmission of St. Cyprian's Treaties (Oxford, 1961),
p. 55; Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible, p. 19; Sage, Cyprian, pp. 373-5; B. Axelson, Kleine
Schriften zur lateinischen Philologie, Acta Regiae societatis humaniorum litterarum Lundensis
78 (Stockholm, 1987), pp. 186-91. On the authenticity of ad Quir, see H.L. Ramsay, 'On Early
Insertions in the Third Book of St. Cyprian's Testimonia', JThSt 2 (1901), 276-88; CH. Turner,
'Prolegomena to the Testimonia of St. Cyprian', JThSt 6 (1905), 246-70; idem, 'Prolegomen to
the Testimona of St. Cyprian IT, JThSt 1 (1906), 62-87; L. Wohleb, 'Cyprians Spruchsammlung
ad Quirinum', RQ 33 (1925), 22-38; Koch, Cyprianische Untersuchungen, pp. 183-210; CH.
Turner, 'Prolegomena to the Testimonia and ad Fortunatum of St. Cyprian UJ', JThSt 29 (1928),
1 13-36; idem, 'Prolegomena to the Testimonia and ad Fortunatum of St. Cyprian IV', JThSt 31
(1930), 225-46; A. Souter, 'The Interpolations in St. Cyprian's ad Quirinum, JThSt 34 (1933),
45-6; Quasten, Pathology 2, pp. 362-3; Sage, Cyprian, p. 382; Pierre Monat, 'Etude sur le texte
des citations bibliques dans les Institutions divines: la place de Lactance parmi les temoins des
"Vielles Latines'", REA 28 (1982), 19-32; Paul McGuckin, 'The Non-Cyprianic Scripture Texts
in Lactantius' Divine Institutes', VC 36 (1982), 145-63; Pierre Monat, 'Les "testimonia"
bibliques de Cyprien a Lactance', in J. Fontaine and C. Pietri (eds.), Le monde latin antique et la
Bible, Bible de Tous les Temps 2 (Paris, 1985), pp. 499-507; Victor Saxer, 'La Bible chez les
Peres latins du IIP siecle', in Fontaine and Pietri, Le monde latin, pp. 339-69; Charles Bobertz,
'An Analysis of Vita Cypriani 3,6-10 and the Attribution of Ad Quirinum to Cyprian of
Carthage', VC 46 (1992), 1 12-28.
References to Mary in the Writings of Cyprian of Carthage 37 1
Passages in Cyprian
If we accept the authenticity of Quod Idola Dii non sint, then we date it,
togethet with ad Donatum, as the two works of Cyprian that were written in
the few years between his conversion to Christianity and his episcopal elec
tion, which took place between 248 and 249. Ad Donatum presents Cyprian's
own account of his conversion, which was because of his dissatisfaction with
his pagan religious, cultural, and social heritage, as a means of explaining to
other pagans why he had adopted Christianity and even of persuading them to
join him. There is next to nothing in it by way of reference to the scriptures
and so it is not surprising to find no reference to Mary in it. On the other hand,
Quod Idola does have a reference to Mary. After having briefly demonstrated
in the first half of the work (1-7) that pagan gods could not possibly have
existed, Cyprian turned to an equally brief rhetorical confirmatio about the
oneness of God (8-15). The concern was to explain Jesus in relation to God,
particularly in the light of the Jewish faith that did not accept the divinity of
Jesus. After mentioning that the Jewish scriptures pointed to the coming of the
Christ, Cyprian stated who the Christ was before outlining his mission:
hie est uirtus Dei, hie ratio, hie sapientia eius et gloria: hie in uirginem delabitur,
carnem Spiritus sanctus induitur, Deus cum homine miscetur9.
If we are to accept ad Quirinum as being attribuable to Cyprian, then it must
be dated to his early years as bishop. Even if it were a work that predated
Cyprian, it is appropriate to make use of it in this paper as Cyprian certainly
made extensive use of this collection of scriptural testimonia and may well
have been responsible for editing this collection into what we have today. Pas
sages were chosen to illustrate the position that the Jews had lost God's favour
and had been replaced by the Christians (book 1), that Jesus was the fulfilment
of God's promises (book 2), and the demands of Christian living (book 3). We
are concerned with several chapters early in the second book.
In chapter 7 of book 2 we find a collection of scriptural passages indicating
that God had promised the coming of a saviour and light-giver: Isa. 35:3-6,
63:9, 42:6-8, and Ps. 24(25):4-510. To that is joined John 8:12, which is there
because it is the fulfilment of what was promised in the psalm. Then come
three Gospel passages which speak of Jesus as saviour (and as belonging to the
house of David): Matt. 1:20-21, Luke 1:67-69 and 2: 10-11 ". The passages
from Matthew mentions Mary12.
9 Cyprian, quod Idol. 1 1 (CSEL 3.1.28): 'He is the power of God, He is the reason, He is His
wisdom and glory; He enters into a virgin; being the holy Spirit, He is endued with flesh; God
is mingled with man' (Eng. trans, by Ernest Wallis in ANF 5).
10 Cyprian, ad Quir. 2.7 (CCL 3.38-39).
11 Ibid. (CCL 3.39-40).
12 Ibid. (CCL 3.39). Matt. 1:20: Ioseph fili Dauid, ne metueris adsumere Mariam uxorem
tuam. Quod enim ex ilia natum fuerit, de Spiritu est sancto. Pariet autemfilium ...
372 G. D. Dunn
In the next chapter the heading refers to passages that indicate that the eter
nal Son of God had to be born in the flesh. There is only one passage from the
Hebrew scriptures: Ps. 2:7-813. After that follow three New Testament pas
sages: Luke 1:41-43, Gal. 4:4, and 1 John 4:2-314. The Gospel extract men
tions the reaction of Elizabeth to Mary's greeting and the Pauline extract is the
reference to the Son sent by the Father and born of a woman.
Chapter 9 contains only two scriptural passages, both from the Hebrew
scriptures: Isa. 7: 10-1515 and Gen. 3: 14-15. The editorial caput announces that
the sign of the birth of the Son of God would be his nativity from a virgin16.
In introducing the second passage, about God promising the serpent that one
born of a woman would trample upon, which, Buby noted17, was used here for
the first time in connection with the Isaiah passage, Cyprian implicitly identi
fied the 'woman' (who, in the context, must be Eve, the mother of all the liv
ing)18 with Mary, the virgin who is mentioned in the caput. Although the iden
tification is not as explicit as it is in Irenaeus19, for example, we do find here a
tacit statement about Mary as the new Eve. On the whole, as Fahey points
out20, the passage from Genesis is interpreted in a christological manner in that
it is Christ who is the one who tramples on the devil's head, not the woman.
The two natures of Christ, interestingly described by use of the verb con-
cresco, is the subject of chapter 10. The passages from the Hebrew scriptures
are Jer. 17:9, Num. 24:17, 24:7-9, and Isa. 61:1-2. The New Testament pas
sages are Luke 1:35 and 1 Cor. 15:47-4921. It is the Gospel passage that men
tions Gabriel's explanation to Mary that she would give birth through the
power of the Spirit.
The last chapter of interest to us mentions Jesus' Davidic descent. Here the
Hebrew texts are 2 Sam. 7:4-5, 12-14a, 16a; Isa. 11:1-3; andPs. 131(132): 11.
The New Testament passages are Luke 1:30-33 and Rev 5:l-522. From Luke
we find the earlier part of Gabriel's announcement to Mary about her going
to conceive and bear a son who would inherit the throne of his ancestor
David.
13 Ibid. 2.8 (CCL 3.40). It says nothing about an eternal son specifically.
14 Ibid.
15 Parts of this passage are cited in Cyprian, Ep. 10.4.2 (CCL 3B.51-52). There is no discus
sion about the 'virgin' in Isaiah by Cyprian and so I have not counted it as a separate passage rel
evant to this study.
16 Cyprian, ad Quir. 2.9 (CCL 3.41): Quod hoc futurum esset signum natiuitatis eius, ut de
uirgine nasceretur homo et Deus, hominis et Dei Filius.
17 Buby, Mary of Galilee 3, p. 99.
18 Cyprian, ad Quir. 2.9 (CCL 3.41): Hoc semen praedixerat Deus de muliere procedere,
quod calcaret caput diaboli.
19 Irenaeus, adu. Haer. 3.23.7 (SC 211.462).
20 Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible, p. 59.
21 Cyprian, ad Quir. 2.10 (CCL 3.42-43).
22 Ibid. 2.11 (CCL 3.43-44).
De Lapsis was written towards the end of the period of the Decian persecu
tion, in the early months of 25 1 , as Cyprian was planning to return to Carthage
to hold a synod to discuss the problem of lapsed Christians23. It contains noth
ing of any relevance to this discussion. A few months later24 he composed de
Ecclesiae Catholicae Vnitate. This work appears to address the ongoing prob
lems in the Carthaginian church after the decision of the 25 1 synod to readmit
penitent libellatici to communion, to place penitent sacrificati in a process of
reconciliation that would be finalized shortly before their death with their
readmission to communion, and to uphold the excommunication of all unre
pentant lapsi25. At the urging of the deacon Felicissimus, a number of pres
byters and confessors in Cathage had accused Cyprian of being too strict in his
demands on the lapsi. These laxists, to whom the long-deposed bishop of
Lambaesis, Privatus, had attached himself, had appointed Fortunatus as an
alternative bishop to Cyprian in Carthage26. De Vnitate was Cyprian's pastoral
letter about the need for unity in the Church and it ended with an appeal to
those who had joined the rival laxist church to come back to Cyprian's eccle-
sial community. Cyprian contrasted his present situation with apostolic times
where the community was united in common charity. He cited Acts 4:32 and
1 : 1427. The second passage from Acts mentions Mary, the mother of Jesus, but
no discussion about her follows at all.
There is no agreed date for the composition of De Dominica Oratione,
which is regarded as having been written either in the early months of 250 or
23 On the date of de Laps, see Maurice Bevenot, St. Cyprian: The Lapsed, The Unity of the
Catholic Church, ACW 25 (New York, 1956), p. 3; Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible, p. 21; Sage,
Cyprian, p. 380; J. Patout Burns, Cyprian the Bishop, Routledge Early Church Monographs
(London, 2002), pp. 4-5; Geoffrey D. Dunn, "The Carthaginian Synod of 251 : Cyprian's Model
of Pastoral Ministry', in / concili della cristianita occidentale secoli III-V (xxx incontro di stu-
diosi dell'antichita cristiana, Roma 3-5 maggio 2001), Studia Ephemeridis Augustinianum 78
(Rome, 2002), p. 243.
24 On the date of de Vnit. see Bevenot, St. Cyprian: The Lapsed, The Unity of the Catholic
Church, pp. 5-6 (where it is held to have been written in response to the Novatianist crisis in
Rome); Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible, p. 21; Sage, Cyprian, p. 380; Maurice Bev6not, 'Cyprian
and his Recognition of Cornelius', JThSt n.s. 28 (1977), 357 (a modified position that now
admits that it could have had the crisis in Rome in mind but that it dealt primarily with local
issues); G.W. Clarke, The Letters of St. Cyprian of Carthage, vol. 2, Letters 28-54, ACW 44
(New York, 1984), pp. 301-3, n. 15 (a similar modified position, although with the possibility of
the work being written a little earlier than Bevenot would like); Charles A. Bobertz, 'The His
torical Context of Cyprian's De Unitate', JThSt n.s. 41 (1990), 107-11 (where it is seen as a
response to the local problems occasioned by Felicissimus); Burns, Cyprian the Bishop, p. 5
(who also considers it a response to the local problems).
25 On the decision of the synod see Cyprian, Ep. 55.17.3-18.1 (CCL 3B.276-277); 55.23.4
(CCL 3B.284-285); Joeph A. Fisher, 'Die Konzilien zu Karthago und Rom in Jahr 251',
Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum 11 (1979), 263-86; Dunn, 'The Carthaginian Synod of 251',
pp. 243-4.
26 Cyprian, Ep. 59.9.1 (CCL 3C.350-351); 59.10.1 (CCL 3C.353).
27 Cyprian, de Vnit. 25 (CCL 3.267).
374 G. D. Dunn
in the period between the later half of 25 1 and early 25228. It is a commentary
on the Lord's Prayer and a discussion about prayer in Christian spirituality.
The first thing Cyprian noted about the prayer was that it was a communal not
a private prayer. He observed that the apostolic community spoke with one
voice. Again Cyprian cited Acts 1 : 14 with its reference to Mary, mother of
Jesus29. As with the other instance of this passage, in de Vnitate, there is noth
ing here other than the scriptural extract itself that is relevant to this investiga
tion.
Of the other treaties of Cyprian30, only de Mortalitate, which may be
dated to 252 during the plague that struck Carthage, has something of interest
for our purposes31. Cyprian wrote this pastoral letter to his community in
Carthage urging them to view the calamity of the plague in a Christian per
spective. For the just person, death was the promise of soon being with
Christ. Hence, there should be no fear of things like plague for the person of
faith. Cyprian's scriptural example is Simeon from the infancy narrative of
Luke's Gospel. He looked forward to death once he had seen salvation, for it
was the promise of peace. In introducing Simeon, Cyprian mentioned that the
old man had seen the Christ when the infant came to the Temple with his
mother32.
The final passage is the only reference to Mary in Cyprian's correspon
dence. Epistula 73 is dated to the middle of 256 in the midst of what has come
to be called the 'rebaptism' controversy33. The issue was a development of the
problems caused by those who formed breakaway Christian communities after
the Decian persecution. Most people who joined these groups were already
Christian, but there were some who joined for whom this was their first expe
rience of Christianity. When these people decided they wanted to be part of
Cyprian's Christian community the question that was raised was about
whether or not the baptism they had received in a breakaway comunity was
valid. Cyprian's position was that it was not valid. This letter is to Iubaianus,
a bishop from an unknown African church. In order to show that the baptism
28 For the first view see M. Reveillaud, Saint Cyprien. L'oraison dominicale. Etudes d'his-
toire et de philosophie religieuses 58 (Paris, 1964), pp. 24-41; Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible,
p. 20. For the second view see Sage, Cyprian, p. 381; Clarke, Letters 1, p. 239.
29 Cyprian, de Domi. 8 (CCL 3A.94).
30 This covers ad Deme., de Oper., de Bono, de Zelo, and ad Fort.
31 On the date see Fahey, Cyprian and the Bible, p. 21; Sage, Cyprian, p. 381; G.W. Clarke,
The Letters of St. Cyprian of Carthage, vol. 3, Letters 55-66, ACW 46 (New York, 1986),
pp. 215-16.
32 Cyprian, de Mort. 3 (CCL 3A.18): Simeon denique Me iustus qui uere iustusfuit, qui flde
plena Dei precepta seruatur, cum ei divinitus responsum fuisset quod non ante moreretur quam
Christum uidisset et Christus infans in templum cum matre uenisset, agnouit in spiritu natum
esse iam Christum, de quo sibifuerat ante praedictum ...
33 Clarke, Letters 4, p. 219; Luc Duquenne, Chronologie des lettres de S. Cyprien: Le dossier
de la persecution de Dice, Subsida Hagiographica 54 (Brussels, 1972), pp. 26-7.
performed by ministers in schism34 was invalid, Cyprian compared their faith

with that of other well-known heretics like Marcion. Although the Marcionites
appear to have used a trinitarian formula in administering the sacrament,
Cyprian's point was that they held a belief about the persons of the Trinity so
different from the mainstream belief that their formula must surely be ineffec
tive.
Numquid eundem adserit quem et nos deum patrem creatorem? Eundem nouit fdium
Christum de uirgine Maria natum, qui sermo caro factus sit, qui peccata nostra por-
tauerit, qui mortem moriendo uicerit, qui resurrectionem carnis per semet ipsum
primus initiauerit et discipulis suis quod in eadem came resurrexisset ostenderit?35
Marcion's christology was docetic for, according to Tertullian, he believed
that all matter was evil36 and that the Christ of the supreme God would not
have assumed flesh in an incarnation37. So for Cyprian, the truth that the Christ
was born of the Virgin Mary was a christological statement about the true
humanity of Jesus. In that regard Mary stands for him as the guarantor of Jesus
sharing the fullness of the human condition.
Virginity in Cyprian
Cyprian discussed virginity at length in two works, de Habitu Virginum and

Epistula 4. The first is dated to 249 and the second should be dated, I have
argued, to the aftermath of the Decian persecution, between mid-25 1 and mid-
25338. In both of these works Cyprian was concerned to reinforce and re-estab
lish ecclesial discipline among those who had embraced virginity as part of
their Christian spirituality. Virginity was a higher calling than married life, and
virgins were praised as the flower of the tree (flos germinis) and the image of
God (Dei imago)39. In the lengthy pastoral letter Cyprian warned female vir
34 On Cyprian's use of the terms haeresis and schisma see Geoffrey D. Dunn, 'Heresy and
Schism According to Cyprian of Carthage', JThSt n.s. 55 (2004), 551-74.
35 Cyprian, Ep. 73.5.2 (CCL 3C.535): 'Surely he does not confess the same God the Father
and Creator as we do? Does he recognize the same Christ His Son, born of the Virgin Mary, the
Word which was made flesh, who bore our sins, who by dying overcame death, who initiated the
resurrection of the flesh, beginning with His own person, and who revealed to His disciples that
He had risen again in the same flesh?' (Eng. trans, in Clarke, Letters 4).
36 Tertullian, adu. Marc. 1.13-16 (CCL 1.454-458).
37 Ibid. 1.24.5 (CCL 1.467-468).
38 Geoffrey D. Dunn, 'Infected Sheep and Diseased Cattle, or the Pure and Holy Flock:
Cyprian's Pastoral Care of Virgins', JECS 1 1 (2003), 5-18, for the date of the letter and a discus
sion on the two texts. For de Habi. see also E.W. Watson, 'The De Habitu Virginum of St.
Cyprian, JThSt 22 (1921), 361-7; Angela Elizabeth Keenan, Thasci Caecili Cypriani, De Habitu
Virgunum: A Commentary with an Introduction and Translation, Catholic University of America
Patristic Studies 34 (Washington, D.C., 1932); Carlo Tibiletti, 'Ascetismo e storia della salvezza
nel De habitu virginum di Cipriano', Augustinianum 19 (1979), 431-42.
39 Cyprian, de Habi. 3 (CSEL 3.1.189).
376 G. D. Dunn
gins in particular to be conscious that they were to seek to please only God,
not other people, and that God did not need them to dress extravagantly or
beautify themselves excessively40, always a temptation for those who had the
time and resources to indulge in a thorough beauty regime41. A virgin who
failed in this regard was to be reckoned as though she were an infected sheep
or diseased cattle putting the purity of Christ's flock at risk42. There was a
more rigorous standard of Christian behaviour expected of virgins because
they lived a higher calling and were living witnesses of the counterculture of
Christianity for other Christians as well as for pagans. In the years after the
Decian persecution, though he still believed in the importance of virginity,
Cyprian modified his harsh demands to some extent. In his letter to Pompo-
nius, a fellow North African bishop, Cyprian advised that those virgins who
had been punished after having been found in compromising relationships with
men should be readmitted to communion if they were still virgins and had
been performing penance, continue with their penance if they had lost their
virginity, or be excommunicated if they showed no remorse for their actions43.
I make mention of these two texts because perhaps here, in a discussion
about virginity, there was an excellent opportunity for Cyprian to refer to
Mary. However, he did not do so. There is no appeal to Mary as a model for
virgins in North Africa to imitate. Whenever Cyprian referred to Mary as a vir
gin it was in the context of her maternity and not to a virginal lifestyle. While
we do not want to read too much into this fact, it could well be that Cyprian
did not consider Mary to have been ever-virgin. If Cyprian accepted as fact
that Mary had other children after Jesus then it is understandable that she was
not mentioned in these two works concerning the embraced lifestyle of virgin
ity. Yet, even so, one could imagine such an argument - about the Virgin's
openness and obedience to God at the time of the conception of Jesus as being
worthy of imitation by the virgins of North Africa - finding a place in
Cyprian's writing. That it does not is worthy of note.
Furthermore, nowhere else in any of his writings where he discussed virgin
ity did Cyprian make reference to Mary.
Maternity in Cyprian
Although Cyprian was fully aware of Mary's maternity as mother of Jesus,

and, as we have noted, used the word 'mother' in relation to Mary when he
quoted from the New Testament, it was not something upon which he made
comment. Mother was an epithet that he used to describe the Church. Most
40 Ibid. 5-6 (CSEL 3.1.190-192).

41 Ibid. 8-14 (CSEL 3.1.193-98). Much in these chapters is addressed not only to virgins but
also to other women as well.
42 Ibid. 17 (CSEL 3.1.200).
43 Idem, Ep. AAA.2 (CCL 3B.22-23).
famously, in de Vnitate Cyprian stated, 'You cannot have God for your Father
if you have not the Church for your mother'44. This was a view he expressed
frequently and consistently throughout his episcopate45. In this he was not
alone. The letter of Firmilian also refers to the Church as mother46, as did
Munnulus, bishop of Girba, at the episcopal synod in September 25647. In ad
Fortunatum Cyprian referred to the one universal Church founded by the Lord
upon Peter as being the mother of the seven churches of the Apocalypse48.
One could make many interesting observations about the implications of
this for Cyprian's ecclesiology, in that it objectifies the Church and makes it
something distinct from the believer, but that is beyond the scope of this
paper49. Needless to say, the view of Mary as mother of the Church is not
found here.
If there were mothers who were worthy of imitation and esteem in
Cyprian's community, they were those who had undergone martyrdom for
their faith. Among the scriptural exemplars of martyrdom Cyprian held out to
the Christian community of Thibaris in a letter from May 253 was the mother
of the Maccabees50. Her example was not only of her own martyrdom but of
her steadfastness in having to witness the martyrdom of her seven sons and, in
spite of her sorrow, in urging them to accept martyrdom51. Among more con
temporary examples, Cyprian could refer to Celerina, the martyred grand
mother of Aurelius, whom Cyprian advanced to the rank of lector52.
Conclusion
The cult of the saints that existed in Cyprian's Carthage was primarily a cult
of the martyrs. When Cyprian described the company of Christians in heaven
44 Cyprian, de Vnit. 6 (CCL 3.523): Habere iam non potest Deum patrem qui ecclesiam non
habet matrem (Eng. trans, from Bevenot, St. Cyprian: The Lapsed, The Unity of the Catholic
Church).
45 Cyprian, de Laps. 2 (CCL 3.221); 9 (CCL 3.225); de Vnit. 5 (CCL 3.253); 23 (CCL
3.266); Epp. 10.1.1 (CCL 3B.46); 15.2.2 (CCL 3B.87); 16.3.2 (CCL 3B.93); 44.3.2 (CCL
3B.214); 46.1.3 (CCL 3B.225); 46.2.2 (CCL 3B.225); 47.1.1 (CCL 3B.226); 73.19.2 (CCL
3C.553); 74.7.2 (CCL 3C.572).
46 [Cyprian], Ep. 75.14.2 (CCL 3C.594-595).
47 Sent. Ep. 10 (CSEL 3.1.442).
48 Cyprian, ad Fort. 1 1 (CCL 3205-206).
49 On Cyprian's ecclesiology see J.C. Plumpe, Mater Ecclesia: An Inquiry into the Concept
of the Church as Mother in Early Christianity, Studies in Christian Antiquity 5 (Washington,
D.C., 1943), pp. 8 Iff; C. Butler, 'St. Cyprian on the Church', Downside Review 71 (1953), 1-13,
1 19-34, 258-72; Lorenzo Dattrino, 'L'ecclesiologia di San Cipriano nel contesto della Chiesa del
III secolo', Lateranum 50 (1984), 127-50.
50 Cyprian, Ep. 58.6.1 (CCL 3C.327). See 2 MacC. 7:1-42.
51 Idem, ad Fort. 11 (CCL 3.208-209).
52 Idem, Ep. 29.3.1 (CCL 3B.189). See Geoffrey D. Dunn, 'Cyprian and Women in a Time of
Persecution', JEH 57 (2006), 205-25.
378 G. D. Dunn
in de Mortalitate, for example, he listed the apotles and prophets, and then fol
low the 'innumerable' martyrs, and the virgins and almsgivers53. Mary was not
a martyr and thus perhaps the possibility of offering her as a role model for the
Carthaginian Christian community was not obvious. Of the eleven references
to Mary in the writings of Cyprian of Carthage, seven of them are simply cita
tions of New Testament passages. Of the other four, two refer to the Son being
born from a virgin, one mentions the presentation of the child who came to the
Temple with his mother, and one refers to the Son born of the Virgin Mary.
The last instance, from Epistula 73, is the only time Cyprian used Mary's
name, apart from when he was citing a scriptural passage. In none of these
eleven instances is there any sense in Cyprian that Mary was anything other
than a biblical character. Her importance was to prove the true humanity of
Jesus. There is no sense that Mary was considered a saint to be venerated in
private prayer or in liturgical services, nor is there any sense that she, as either
virgin or mother, was to be a role model for either virgins or mothers, or any
Christian believer for that matter.
These rather slim results may at first seem to be a disappointment for the
purposes of the International Mariology Project. However, the absence of any
evidence for the practice of a Marian cult in North Africa in the middle of the
third century may well be indicative of a local situation, the peculiarity of
which will become evident as more and more evidence from elsewhere in the
Mediterranean is investigated.
53 Cyprian, de Mort. 26 (CCL 3A.31): Illic apostolorum gloriosus chorus, illic prophetarum
exultantium numerus, illic martyrum innumerabilis populus ob certaminis et passionis uictoriam
coronatus, triumphantes uirgines quae concupiscentiam carnis et corporis continentiae robore
subegerunt, remunerati misericordes qui alimentis et largitionibus pauperum iustitae opera
fecerunt, qui dominica praecepta seruantes ad caelestes thensauros terrena patrimonia
transtulerunt'.
Laktanz und die epikureische Seelenlehre
Stefan Freund, Eichstatt
Laktanz setzt sich mit der epikureischen Seelenlehre vor allem1 im eschato-
logischen siebten Buch der Diuinae institutiones auseinander: Im zweiten
Haupteil behandelt er die Unsterblichkeit der Seele. Nachdem er die platoni-
schen Argumente rasch abgetan (Kapitel 8) und die christlichen dargelegt hat
(Kapitel 9 bis 1 1 ), widmet er das zwolfte Kapitel den bei Lukrez gesammelten
Beweisen fiir die Sterblichkeit der Seele und deren Widerlegung. Es folgt eine
knappe Testimoniensammlung (Kapitel 13). - In der Forschung, die sich erst
jiingst wieder mit dem Verhaltnis des Laktanz zu Lukrez und zum Epikureis-
mus beschaftigt hat, wird unser Kapitel nur am Rande beriicksichtigt und gilt
wegen der petitio principii in der Argumentation als wenig gelungen2.
Zum Text: Aus den 29 Beweisen fiir die Sterblichkeit der Seele im dritten
Buch des Lukrez formuliert Laktanz sieben Einwande gegen die Unsterblich
keit der Seele. Der erste Einwand davon - Seele und Korper entstehen und
vergehen zugleich (§ 1) - greift kein Argument des Lukrez, sondern dessen
Ausgangsthese (3, 417f.) auf. Dagegen unterscheidet Laktanz zunachst (§§ 2-
5) den materiellen Korper von der immateriellen Seele und beruft sich dabei
auf Platon (§ 2)3. Dann (§§ 6-8) wendet er sich gegen die Annahme, die Seele
1 Sonst knappe doxographische Erwahnungen: opif. 18.2 animum et animam indifferenter
appellant; inst. 7. 13 .7 falsa est ergo Democriti et Epicuri et Dicaerchi de animae dissolutione sen
tentia; ira 10.23 (Annahme von Atomen unterschiedlicher Grofie) Sed putemus artus et ossa et
nemos et sanguinem de atomis posse concrescere: quidsensus cogitatio mens memoria ingenium?
2 V.a. J. Bryce, The Library of Lactantius (New York, 1990), 269, der auch einen fundierten
Uberblick des Belegmaterials gibt. Zum zwolften Kapitel im Rahmen der Lukrezrezeption bei
Laktanz etwa: S. Brandt, Lactantius und Lucretius, Neue Jahrbiicher fur Philologie und Pddago-
gik 143 (1891), 225-259, 242f.; H. Hagendahl, Latin Fathers and the Classics (Goteborg, 1958),
66; E. Messmer, 'Laktanz und die Dichtung' (Diss, masch., Miinchen, 1974), 86; M. Perrin,
L'homme antique et chretien. L'anthropologie de Lactance (Paris, 1981), 366-369 (im Gesamt-
rahmen der der laktanzischen Seelenlehre, doit auch altere Literatur dazu); J. Althoff, 'Zur Epi-
kurrezeption bei Laktanz', in: T. Fuhrer/M. Erler (Hrsg.), Hellenistische Philosophie in der
Spdtantike (Stuttgart, 1999), 33-53, 51; A. Goulon, 'Quelle connaissance Lactance avait-il du De
rerum natural Realite et signification des reminiscences lucretiennes dans l'ceuvre de Lactance',
in; R. Poignault (Hrsg.), Presence de Lucrece (Tours, 1999), 217-257 (statistische Untersuchung
zu Themen und Verteilung aller Lukrezzitate); J. Kany-Turpin, 'Lactance, un critique mesestime
de l'epicurisme', in: M. Erler (Hrsg.), Epikureismus in der spdten Republik und der Kaiserzeit
(Stuttgart, 2000), 218-230, 228.
3 Hier wohl liber nach Cic, Tusc. 1.66 (ohne Hinweis auf Platon) = cons. fr. 21 (ed. C. Vitelli
(Florenz, 1979) - dort Platon erwahnt?). Weiter entfernt Plat., Phaed. 80b/d.
380 S. Freund
lose sich gleichzeitig mit dem Korper auf. Hier finden sich Spuren aus dem
ersten Beweis des Lukrez (3, 425-444: leichte, bewegliche Seelenatome zer-
streuen sich, wenn er sterbende Korper sie nicht mehr zusammenhalten kann) :
Denn Laktanz spricht von der Feinheit (tenuis) und wendigen Beweglichkeit
der Seele, was mit Lukrez ubereinstimmt, aber bei ihm atomistisch verstanden
ist4. Zweitens nimmt Laktanz (§§ 3, 6) die Formulierung dissolui animam
(337f.) auf, drittens das Bild vom Korper als GefaB der Seele (§ 4 aus 440)
und viertens den Vergleich mit der auslaufenden Fliissigkeit (§ 7), der bei
Lukrez (3, 434f.) in einem Analogieschluss iiber das Nachlassen der Halte-
krafte steht. Wahrend also Lukrez illustriert, dass die feinen Seelenatome, die
im Tod aus dem Korper schwinden, von der Luft erst recht nicht als Seele
zusammengehalten werden konnen, geht es bei Laktanz nur um das Entwei-
chen der Seele5. Auch das Lukrezzitat (2, 999-1001, in § 5) kann Laktanz in
der retorsio dadurch verwenden, dass es sich nicht mehr auf die feinen See
lenatome, sondern auf die Seele selbst bezieht. Von Platon entlehnt und fast
wortlich ubersetzt ist der Gedanke vom teilweise langeren Bestehen des
Leichnams in § 66.
Der zweite Einwand7 - der Verstand unterliegt Werden und Vergehen (§ 9)
- gibt vereinfacht den zweiten Beweis des Lukrez wieder (3, 445-458, Stich-
worter: crescere, senescere, mens, pueri). Insofern Laktanz die Analogie zum
Korper weglasst und nur von der kognitiven Entwicklung spricht, folgert er
Sterblichkeit aus der Veranderlichkeit. In der Widerlegung unterscheidet er
anima und mens (§§ 9f.) und erlautert dann (§§ 11-13), wie Phanomene gei-
stigen Wachstums und Verfalls ohne eine Veranderung der Seele zustande-
kommen.
Im dritten Einwand - die Seele unterliegt dem Einfluss von Schmerz, Trauer
und Trunkenheit (§ 14) - stammen die Stichworte dolor und luctus (3, 460f.)
aus der Analogie zwischen geistigem und korperlichem Leiden bei Lukrez
(463-473). Dementire gebraucht dieser (464) fur die Auswirkung korperlicher
4 Lucr. 3, 425 tenuem zu Lact., inst. 7.12.2 tenuis, 3 tenuitate sua; Lucr. 3, 428f. mobilitate
praestat zu Lact., inst. 7.12.2 tantam [...] sollertiam, [...] tantam celeritatem.
5 Wahrend Lukrez mit corpus conquassatum bzw. rarefactum (3, 441f.) ein plotzliches bzw.
langsames Sterben meint, scheint Laktanz mit dissoluto copore den Abschluss eines Verwe-
sungsprozesses zu meinen.
6 Plat., Phaed. 80c awna [...] 6 8f| VeKpov KaXoOpev, m rcpoar|Kei 8iaA6eaGai Kai
8iaTtiTtxeiv Kai 8taTtvetaGai, o6k euGix; xouxcov o68ev TtercovOev (rton [. . .] simul interit), &XX'
£Tueikcoi; auxvov &ni\ievei xpovov (sed [...] integrum pr multus dies manet) [...] " ov\meabv
yap xo acona Kai xapixeuGev (medicatum). Stamp ol £v Alyurcxcp xapixeuGevxei;, 6Xiyou
oXov nevei dnrjxavov octov xpovov (diutissme durat).
7 Zu beachten sind drei textkritische bzw. terminologische Probleme: § 9 ist einmiitig sensus
start mens iiberliefert; § 14 eadem miisste sich syntaktisch auf mens (§ 13) beziehen, inhaltlich
sinnvoll ist nur ein Bezug auf anima als iibergreifendes Stichwort; § 15 hat Brandt sinngemafi
zweifellos richtig anima erganzt; vielleicht erschien Laktanz der Bezug der Aussage (wie § 14)
aber so klar, dass er das Bezugswort anima gar nicht setzen zu miissen meinte.
Laktanz und die epikureische Seelenlehre 38 1
Krankheiten auf den Geist und macht denselben Zusammenhang fur die Trun-
kenheit geltend (476-486). Laktanz verkurzt dies auf die Anfalligkeit der Seele
fiir emotionale Ausnahmezustande, durch die sie sich verganglich zeige. Die-
sem Einwand widerspricht er aber nicht (§§ 18f.), sondern widerholt in asso-
ziativer Ankniipfung an die einzelnen lukrezischen Stichworte (§ 16) die
bereits vorher (7.5.9-27) entfaltete Lehre vom Tugendkampf8. Wahrend
Lukrez mit physiologischen Analogien zwischen Korper und Geist argumen-
tiert, begibt sich Laktanz mit dem Gegensatzpaar uirtusluoluptas in den
Bereich naturrechtlich begriindeter Ethik9.
Der vierte Einwand - die Seele erfahrt Krankheit, Konrrollverlust10 und
Heilung (§ 17) - besteht wieder aus Bruchstiicken: Aus dem vierten Beweis
stammt das Stichwort morbus corporis (3, 463). Hinter obliuio sui konnte viel-
leicht die Epilepsie des sechsten Beweises (487-509; 490 desipit; 505 redit in
sensus) stehen. Die Moglichkeit von Erkrankung und Heilung gibt der siebte
Beweis (510-525) vor. Der atomistische Aspekt dabei, dass durch Teilchen-
austausch das Gleichgewicht gestort und durch die Heilung wieder hergestellt
werde (513-516), fallt weg. Statt einer Widerlegung fahrt Laktanz in seiner
Fundamentalethik fort: Die Tugend konne bewirken, dass nur die mens, nicht
aber die Seele von Krankheitsfolgen und obliuio sui betroffen werde (§ 18).
Dasss die mens in einer certa regio des Kdrpers lokalisiert sei, hat Laktanz von
Lukrez (617), evenso deren Erschiitterung (600). Am Ende (§ 19) wiederholt
(vgl. § 16) Laktanz seine These, dass die Seele von Natur aus unsterblich sei.
Der fiinfte Einwand lautet: Die Seele ist ohne eigenstandige Wahrnehmung,
da sie Teil des Korpers ist (§ 20). Das Beispiel vom herausgerissenen Auge
entstammt dem zehnten Beweis des Lukrez", der Gedanke dem neunten
(3, 548-557), der lautet: Die Seele ist wie die Sinnesorgane (oculi 549) Teil
(pars 548) des Korpers. Der Einwand ermoglicht eine knappe Widerlegung, da
die These im Kausalsatz steht. Dieser halt Laktanz ein Cicero-Zitat (Tusc. 1.52)
entgegen.
8 Diesen fiihrt die Seele gegen maeror (aus dolor und luctus) und uoluptas (aus ebrietas), die
ihr zu fabricatrix mortis (mors aus dem Stichwort mortalis, auch die Junktur nach Lukrez; fabri-
catrix erstmals bei Laktanz belegt, Thesaurus Linguae Latinae VI. 1,1 7, 75ff.; mit mortis nach
Lucr. 3, 472 leti fabricator, nur hier belegtes Bild, vgl. ThLL VI.1,17, 61f.) werden kann.
9 Zu diesem Grundzug theologischen Denkens bei Laktanz umfassend W. Winger, Persona-
litdt durch Humanitat. Das ethikgeschichtliche Profil christlicher Handlungslehre bei Lactam
(Frankfurt, 1999), 315-562.
10 Mit obliuio sui ist, wie die Parallelen Sen., clem. 1.1.7 nec enim periculum est, ne te sub-
ita tui capiat obliuio; Ps. Quint, decl. 18.9 ad ilud (die erotische Liebe einer Mutter zu ihrem
Sohn) nisi per obliuionem sui transire non possit; Mar. Victorin., rhet. 1 praef. zeigen, nicht
Ohnmacht oder Amnesie, sondern ein voriibergehender Verlust bewusster Selbstkontrolle
gemeint (vgl. ThLL X,2,108, 21).
11 3, 558-579: Die Seele kann nur innerhalb eines Korpers existieren; v.a. 563-565; auolsus,
vergleichende ut, oculus, corpus, anima und nil posse uidetur, Laktanz: flacheres nihil potest
uidere.
382 S. Freund
Den sechsten Einwand - die Seele ist sterblich, weil sie allmahlich aus dem
Korper weicht (§ 22) - wertet Laktanz einleitend als 'noch viel unsinniger' ab.
Der Gedanke und wichtige Schlagworter stammen aus dem elften Beweis des
Lukrez12. Die Entgegnung bezieht sich auf die Geschwindigkeit (je nach
Todesursache, §§ 22f.) und die Tatsache des gefuhllos Werdens, das Laktanz
mit dem Schwinden der wahrnehmenden Seele erklart (§§ 24f.).
Siebter Einwand sind die wortlich zitierten Schlussverse (3, 612-614) des
zwolften Beweises13. Laktanz erwidert rhetorisch, geradezu polemisch: Sarka-
stisch zeichnet er das Bild des sterbenden Epikureers (§ 27), dann formuliert er
in ironischer Umkehr der epikureischen Grundaussage: 'Wenn wir sind, ist der
Tod nicht; wenn der Tod ist, sind wir nicht'14 die Unmoglichkeit, aus eigener
Anschauung Aussagen iiber den Tod zu treffen (§ 28), schlieBlich prazisiert er
den Einwand (AuBerungen vor dem Tod seien gemeint) und behauptet das
Gegenteil (§ 29). Am Ende steht eine hochst polemische praeteritio der cetera
Epicurei dogmatis argumenta (§ 30), die sich gegen die Metempsychose rich-
ten (§§ 3 If.).
Der Durchgang hat tatsachlich eine Reihe scheinbarer Mangel und Auffal-
ligkeiten ergeben: Laktanz benutzt von den 29 Beweisen bei Lukrez vor allem
die ersten zwolf15. Der erste Einwand ist keiner. Die iibrigen geben die Argu-
mente des Lukrez nicht oder unsachgemaB wieder. Laktanz widerlegt diese
Einwande nicht, sondern knupft eigene Lehren daran an oder antwortet mit
Gegenthesen. Lukrez erscheint insgesamt eher als Stichwortgeber, der mit
nicht ganz ernst zu nehmenden Bemerkungen Anlass fur die Ausfuhrungen des
Laktanz bietet. In diese flieBen Zitate aus Platon und Cicero (§§ 2; 6; 21), aber
auch einzelne Motive aus Lukrez ein, namlich die Feinheit und Beweglichkeit
der Seele (§ 4) sowie die Lokalisierung der mens (§ 18). SchlieBlich fehlt der
Kerngedanke epikureischer Seelenlehre16, namlich die Sterblichkeit der Seele
aufgrund ihrer atomaren Struktur17; und wenn, wie im Fall des ersten und vier-
ten Einwandes, atomistisch begriindete Positionen des Lukrez aufgenommen
12 3, 526-547: die Seele kann teilweise absterben, ist also insgesamt sterblich. 526 paulatim;
527 membratim; 528 in pedibus; § 24 brutescit aus 545 (sc. anima) contractu suis e partibus
obbrutescat.
13 3, 593-614: Schon zu Lebzeiten spiire der Mensch, wie seine Seele erschuttert werde und
sich beinahe vom Korper trenne, erst recht fiihle er sie im Tod entweichen.
14 Ausdriicklich Lact., inst. 3.17.30; vgl. Epicur., epist. Men. 125, rat. sent. 2; Lucr. 3, 838-
841.
15 3, 425-623. Die Beweise 16 bis 25 (670-783), die sich gegen Praexstenz und der Seele und
Metempsychose richten, sind ausdriicklich (§ 30) iibergangen, die iibrigen erscheinen nicht
unmittelbar.
16 Vgl. Epicur., epist. Hdt. 63-68; M. Erler, in: H. Flashar (Hrsg.), Grundrifi der Geschichte
der Philosophie: Die Philosophie der Antike 4, Die hellenistische Philosophie (Basel, 1994), 1,
146f.; Lucr. 3, 94-416.
17 Darauf hat, soweit ich sehe, bislang nur Kany-Turpin (wie Anm. 2, 227) hingewiesen,
jedoch sehr knapp und etwas vage.
Laktanz und die epikureische Seelenlehre 383
sind, dann wird diese atomistische Grundlage geradezu chirurgisch entfernt.

So verliert die Beweisfiihrung des Lukrez ihren inhaltlichen Zusammenhang.
Formal wie inhaltlich wird seine Argumentation also auf Schlagworter redu-
ziert, an die Laktanz eigene Lehre kniipft. Kurzum: Entweder ist die Widerle-
gung des Lukrez hier tatsachlich vollig misslungen - oder sie war gar nicht
beabsichtigt. Drei Voriiberlegungen in diese Richtung:
1 . Wendet sich Laktanz gegen die Epikureer? Zwar fehlen Zeugnisse iiber
die (Nicht-)Existenz eines schulmaBig verfassten Epikureismus in der Zeit des
Laktanz18, aber es ist unwahrscheinlich, dass Laktanz einer lebendigen epikur-
eischen Schule mit einer so unzureichenden Widerlegung entgegengetreten
ware. Auch wird man kaum annehmen, dass sich jene in der von Laktanz vor-
gefuhrten Weise allein auf Lukrez berufen hatte.
2. Wer sind dann die Adressaten? Laktanz blendet bei seiner Argumenta
tion die epikureische Atomistik aus, ignoriert die Beweistechnik in Analogien,
reduziert die Argumente des Lukrez auf Schlagworter und widerlegt sie mit
Gegenbehauptungen, die zum Teil auf Cicero, Platon und Lukrez selbst basie-
ren. Er hat also offenbar einen Leser vor Augen, der Lukrez kennt und viel-
leich schatzt19, der aber weder tieferes Verstandnis noch Sympathien fur die
epikureische Lehre hegt. Vielleicht erwagt dieser Leser ernsthaft einzelne
Bedenken gegen die Unsterblichkeit der Seele, deren atomische Begriindung
halt er aber fur indiskutabel. Diesem Leser erscheint die Lukrez entgegenge-
haltene Position, dass die Seele unterblich (und schon gar nicht korperlich) sei,
nicht als petitio principii, sondern als communis opinio, die durch Platons (§§
2; 6) und Ciceros (§21) Autoritat belegt ist. Dieser Leser wird es entweder
nicht merken, dass Laktanz Lukrezisches in seine Ausfiihrungen iibernimmt
oder es als gelungene retorsio goutieren, wie sicher im Fall des Zitates in § 5.
3. Wie passt das Kapitel in den Zusammenhang? Vorher hatte Laktanz
seine Beweise fur die Unsterblichkeit der Seele dargelegt, anschlieBend stellt
er richtige und falsche Meinungen gegeniiber. Unser Kapitel markiert den
Ubergang von der Entfaltung eigener Lehre zur Auseinandersetzung. Denn
wahrend zunachst der Anschein sachlicher Diskussion gewahrt wird, riickt
vom funften Einwand an das Element der Polemik in den Vordergrund20.
18 Treffliche Zusammenstellung des Belegmaterials bei W. Schmid, 'Epikur', RACh 5 (1962),

682-819, hier 776-780. Noch immer ist dessen Bewertung umstritten: Nach D. Timpe, 'Der Epi
kureismus in der romischen Gesellschaft der Kaiserzeit', in: M. Erler (Hrsg.), Epikureismus in
der spdten Republik und der Kaiserzeit (Stuttgart, 2000), 42-63, v.a. 62f., kann er schulmaBig
verfasster Epikureismus die sozialen Unwalzungen des friihen dritten Jahrhunderts kaum iiber-
standen haben kann, fur Althoff (wie Anm. 2, 51) erlischt der Epikureismus im 5./6. Jh.
19 Vgl. Bryce (wie Anm. 2, 223-225).
20 Der fiinfte Einwand wird briisk abgeschmettert, gewurzt mit einem Cicero-Zitat, der sech-
ste gleich abwertend eingefuhrt, im siebten der nun wortlich zitierte Lukrez geradezu vorgefuhrt.
Reine Polemik beherrscht die letzten Paragrafen beziiglich der Metempsychose.
384 S. Freund
Folgendes Verstandnis von inst. 7.12 sei daher vorgeschlagen: Das Ziel des
Kapitels ist die diskursive Wiederholung und Vertiefung der eigenen Lehre vn
der Seele und ihrer Unsterblichkeit. Vorbilder sind die dialogischen Beweis-
gange fur die Unsterblichkeit der Seele in Platons Phaidon (62c-84b) und
Ciceros Tuskulanen (1.53-81). Die Rolle des Stichwortgebers, Kebes und
Simmias bei Platon, ein junger Schiiler bei Cicero, iibernimmt bei Laktanz
kein anderer als Lukrez, der zugleich das Material liefert. Die Widerlegung der
epikureischen Seelenlehre ist nicht Ziel, sondern Mittel der Darstellung.
The Metaphor of Slavery in the Writings of Tertullian
J. Albert Harrill, Bloomington, Indiana
Although scholars have noted slavery to be a common metaphor in patristic

writings, the analysis rarely goes deeper than tracing assorted biblical themes,
such as the 'slave of Christ' motif, in the history of Christian ideas1. There is
even the claim that slavery metaphors in patristic writings operate only on the
level of ideas, disconnected from and untainted by the actual legal and social
institution, because they are 'qualitatively different from any kind of slavery
experienced in the secular sphere'2. My goal is to challenge this claim, using
Tertullian as a case study. I argue that Tertullian's metaphors of slavery are
personalized, first-hand expressions of slaveholding. Rather than being
removed from slavery in ancient daily life, the images and rhetorical figures
participate and are deeply implicated in the Roman institution and ideology. In
this way, I propose moving beyond questions of how Tertullian lived within
the context of the Roman world to examining how he assisted in producing
that context.
We know that Tertullian's metaphors of slavery connect to the institution
and ideology in wider Roman society because Tertullian makes this connec
tion explicit. He claims, for example, that Marcion's notion of a god who
breaks into an alien world and steals humans is nothing more than a criminal
who bribes and kidnaps slaves from the households of their rightful owner,
destroying the sacred bonds of the family. Tertullian makes an analogy to stan
dards of justice in Roman slave law precisely to show that the logic of his the
ological argument is valid 'even in the secular sphere' (in saeculof.
Tertullian frequently crafts his arguments on profane exempla culled from
the secular world. This curious feature of his writing becomes intelligible in
light of rules in classical rhetoric which recommended examples outside of
one's private discourse (exempla externa, as opposed to exempla domestica) as
1 I.A.H. Combes, The Metaphor of Slavery in the Writings of the Early Church: From the
New Testament to the Beginning of the Fifth Century, Journal for the Study of the New Testa
ment Supplement Series 156 (Sheffield, 1998), pp. 95-161.
2 Combes, Metaphor of Slavery, p. 166.
3 Marc. 1.23.7 (CCL 1, 466). The kidnapping theme is a classical topos, see J. Albert Harrill,
Slaves in the New Testament: Literary, Social, and Moral Dimensions (Minneapolis, 2006), pp.
119-44. Tertullian evokes the injustice of turning slaves against their master also in Nat. 1.7.14-
17 (CCL 1, 19).
386 J. A. Harrill
a very efficacious form of the argument ex minoribus ad maiora4. Tertullian

even recycles one of the most notorious historical exempla of slavery in
Roman oratory: the story of Vedius Pollio, who punished his slaves for house
hold mistakes by feeding them to man-eating eels in a fishpond built just for
that purpose5. This exemplum is not a condemnation of ancient slavery. Roman
moralists, like Tertullian, express outrage over Vedius Pollio not because he
put slaves to death for household mistakes, but because of his savage anger
and loss of self-control6.
In this way, Tertullian understands slavery 'in the secular sphere' to teach
not only legal principles of justice, but also absolute standards of morality to
Christian masters. He identifies with Roman slaveholders and draws upon the
practical experience of mastering large numbers of slaves in the aristocratic
Roman household. Like other classical authors, Tertullian describes slavery
from the master's point of view: he categorizes slaves by type of domestic
work performed (even down to the hairstylists), sympathizes with the problem
that slaves have to be the 'eyes and ears' of the master, and expresses anxiety
over slave resistance and rebellion (petty theft, eavesdropping, trickster antics,
running away, even murder)7. On the immorality of taking revenge, for exam
ple, Tertullian invites his readers to remember 'our own' experience at home.
'We (masters),' he writes, are 'grievously offended when our slaves (servulis
nostris) take it upon themselves to seek revenge on their fellow slaves'; 'we
(masters)' praise domestics 'who show us patience'; 'we (masters)' reward
slaves above their expectations 'who are conscious of their lowly position,
ones attentive to the respect they owe to their master'. Having set up the
household analogy, Tertullian then asks rhetorically, 'Is there any risk of a dif
ferent result when we have a Lord ('master') so just in his judgements, so
powerful in his deeds?'8 This use of secular examples from slavery in daily
life to teach Christian ethics recurs as a rhetorical pattern. 'We' are both Chris
tians and slaveholders.
Not only does Tertullian personalize Christian slave ownership, but he also
envisions a personalized form of authority that is specifically Roman. Tertul
lian exhorts, 'For not even we (nostris) ourselves (ipsi) permit our slaves to
love things that displease us, since the essence of obedience (obsequii) consists
in having the same will (in similitudine animorum) as the master'9. Just as 'our
4 Robert D. Sider, Ancient Rhetoric and the Art of Tertullian (Oxford, 1971), pp. 7-8.
5 Pall. 5.5-6 (CCL 2, 749). The story circulated in Roman literature: Seneca, De ira 3.40.2-
4; idem, De clem. 1.18.2; Pliny, NH 9.77; Dio Cassius 54.23; cf. Petronius, Satyricon 52.4.
6 William V. Harris, Restraining Rage: The Ideology ofAnger Control in Classical Antiquity
(Cambridge, Mass., 2001), pp. 325-6.
7 Ux. 2.8.3 (CCL 1, 392); Sped. 17.5 (CCL 1, 143); Paen. 6.7 (CCL 1, 330); Nat. 1.7.15
(CCL 1, 19), 2.13.17 (CCL 1, 67); Apol. 27.5-7 (CCL 1, 139); Marc. 5.6.7 (CCL 1, 680).
8 Pat. 10.5 (CCL 1, 310).
9 Paen. 4.4 (CCL 1, 327).
slaves' in order to obey us must love what we love, 'we believers' in order to
obey God must love what God loves. Tertullian incorporates into his theology
a distinctly Roman form of domination known as auctoritas, which recognizes
the subjectivity of subordinates and sees that true authority consists not just in
obeying individual commands, but in the subordinate's compliance to the per
sonal power of the master, even anticipating the master's will. Auctoritas was
deeply moral, belonging to the cultural milieu of aristocratic competition in
Rome's conflict culture. Roman government was based on the concept, as Ter
tullian knew well10. His personalized view of authority, therefore, participates
in an aristocratic moral value in which personal mastery of slaves is a central
metaphor standing in for all relationships of domination11.
Tertullian appeals even to pagan slaveholders as moral examples for Chris
tians. Concerning marriage, he writes,
Is it not true that, even among the heathen, masters who are the strictest (severissimi)
and most careful (tenacissimi) to preserve right order (disciplinae) forbid their slaves
to marry (nubere) into other households? This is because they do not want them to
break bounds in their debauchery, to neglect the performance of their duties, and to
give the master's property away to strangers12.
Tertullian encourages the Roman stereotyped portrait of the slave as an
unscrupulous and criminous moral type13, and he endorses rules to control that
debauchery in the household. Tertullian then asks rhetorically, 'Are we to
regard earthly laws as more severe than those of heaven?' The exemplum of
slavery helps Tertullian to forbid mixed marriages generally, between Chris
tians and non-Christians14. Such an argument from a profane situation involv
ing 'our slaves' and 'us' to a sacred one involving 'us' and God reveals a pat
tern of ex minoribus ad maiora in Tertullian 's use of the slave metaphor for
Christian ethics.
In his longest section on household slaves, Tertullian explains the pedagog
ical value of slave ownership for Christian ethics in further detail. His repeated
use of the first person is striking, and telling. 'Our slaves,' he exhorts, teach
'us' the duty of imitating 'our master', the Lord:
When we see all slaves of good and upright disposition turning round to the inclina
tions (pro ingenio) of their master - obedience (obsequium), as you know, is a facility
10 For Tertullian's appeal to the auctoritas of Roman imperial administration, see Apol. 1.1.1
(CCL 1, 85).
11 See Kathleen McCarthy, Slaves, Masters, and the Art of Authority in Plautine Comedy
(Princeton, 2000), p. 21.
12 Ux. 2.8.1 (CCL 1, 392); tr. William P. Le Saint, Tertullian: Treatises on Marriage and
Remarriage, ACW 13 (New York, 1951), p. 33 (altered).
13 On this stereotype, see Keith Bradley, Slavery and Society at Rome, Key Themes in
Ancient History (Cambridge, 1994), p. 65.
14 Ux. 2.8.2 (CCL 1, 392).
388 J. A. Harrill
in rendering service, but the principle of obedience is compliant submission - how

much more does it behoove us to be found modeled upon our Lord! We are indeed
slaves of the living God, whose sway over his creatures consists not in manacles or the
granting of the freedman's cap (pileus), but in allocating everlasting punishment or sal
vation. To escape his severity or to invite his liberality one needs diligence in obeying,
which is proportionate to the threats uttered by his severity or the promises made by
his liberality. Yet, we ourselves exact obedience not only from people who are bound
to us by the bonds of slavery or who, because of some other legal bond, are under
obligation to us, but also from our flocks and even from wild animals. We understand
that they have been provided and granted by the Lord for our purposes15.
Three issues are immediately apparent. First, Tertullian's metaphors of slav
ery are specifically Roman, neither transferable to another cultural context
(such as Greek slavery) nor abstracted only on the level of ahistorical ideas, as
his references to obsequium and the pileus demonstrate16. Second, we see the
stamp of Roman auctoritas in Tertullian's principle of obedience, defined as
conformity to the natural inclinations and will of a master. Third, Tertullian
urges that the slave, like the beast, requires taming - both have been given to
'us' by God 'for our purposes'. The rhetoric participates in the wider cultural
convention of animalizing the slave17.
The emphasis on bestial appetite and dishonour as characteristic of a slave
recurs throughout Tertullian's polemic, especially against idolatry. The Egypt
ian idol Anubis has 'the appetite of a slave and the filthy nature of a dog'18.
Pagans offer 'decaying and mangy' scraps to idols which at home are thrown
to 'slaves (pueris) or dogs'19. This polemic depends on agreeing that masters
should feed their slaves with dog food. Idols, like slaves, should be kept in
their place of dishonour. Tertullian's vivid metaphor of the Roman slave mar
ket argues that idols are no more than mere chattel bought and sold under the
barking voice of auctioneers20. His mockery of Marcion's god bearing the
name god reminds his readers 'how often worthless slaves strut insolently
bearing the names of kings'21 - referring to the common practice of masters
15 Pat. 4.1-3 (CCL 1, 302); tr. Rudolf Arbesmann, Emily Joseph Daly, and Edwin A. Quain,
Tertullian: Disciplinary, Moral and Ascetical Works, FC 40 (New York, 1959), pp. 197-8
(altered).
16 Obsequium refers to the obligation of respectful deference (including forfeiture of the right
to sue) which, along with operae (specific work duties), a manumitted Roman slave owed his for
mer master, now patron. Jean-Claude Fredouille notes that Tertullian, like Tacitus and Apuleius,
has a certain predilection for the term obsequium: Tertullien: De la patience. Introduction, texte
critique, traduction et commentaire, SC 310 (Paris, 1984), p. 142.
17 For this literary and rhetorical topos, see Keith Bradley, 'Animalizing the Slave: The Truth
of Fiction', JRS 90 (2002), 1 10-25.
18 Nat. 2.8.19 (CCL 1, 54).
19 Apol. 14.1 (CCL1, 112).
20 Nat. 1.10.23-24 (CCL 1, 26) and Apol. 13.4-6 (CCL 1, 111).
21 Marc. 1.7.2 (CCL 1, 448).
giving their slaves ironic nicknames of kings, mythological heroes, and

famous generals as a tool of natal alienation, dishonor, and 'social death'22.
Tertullian likes the analogy that idols are socially dead like slaves.
In addition to a first-hand knowledge of slave ownership, Tertullian appeals
to a moral ideal of slavery beyond either his ordinary experience or that of his
readers. In these cases, he shifts from the first person to the third person. Mas
tery, Tertullian exhorts, involves more than settling disputes among 'our'
slaves; it also involves giving them a sense of morality and responsibility. One
strategy 'we' should use, Tertullian reports, is to grant slaves special privileges
and a measure of independence as a test of their abilities and moral character.
He writes,
Do not wise property owners (patres familiae) offer and permit some things to their
slaves (servi) on purpose in order to test them and to see whether and how they make
use of things thus permitted, whether they will do so with moderation and honesty?
However, is not that slave deserving more praise who abstains totally, thus manifesting
a reverential fear of the kindness of his master?23
Tertullian, therefore, refers to himself when appealing to the common experi
ence of all slaveholders, and speaks in the third person of the 'wise pater
familias' when exhorting an ideal to which 'we' should aspire.
This paper has evaluated Tertullian 's slave metaphors and rhetorical exam
ples in order to render problematic the claim that such language operates only
on the level of the history of ideas, disconnected from and untainted by the
actual legal and social institution. Tertullian makes an explicit connection
between his metaphor and the actualities of slavery in the Roman world. His
language is personalized, appealing to first-hand experience of slave owner
ship, both his and that of his intended audience. Tertullian articulates also a
personalized view of authority that is implicated in the Roman ideology of
auctoritas. These findings prove his metaphors and images to be valuable, if
overlooked, evidence for slavery in the aristocratic household of the Antonine
age. We also learn something about Tertullian himself. His conversion from
paganism to Christianity did not involve a change in his understanding of slav
ery. He remained a staunch Roman slaveholder confident that his personal
experience in slave ownership provided a straightforward and intuitive way to
think about the Lord, church ritual, and Christian moral behaviour.
22 I borrow the term 'social death' from Orlando Patterson, Slavery and Social Death: A
Comparative Study (Cambridge, Mass., 1982).
23 Cult. fem. 2.10.5-6 (CCL 1, 366); tr. Arbesmann, Daly, and Quain, Tertullian: Discipli
nary, p. 144 (altered). On pater familias meaning 'estate owner', see Richard P. Sailer, 'Pater
Familias, Mater Familias, and the Gendered Semantics of the Roman Household', CPh 94
(1999), 182-97.
Metaphorical Approach in
Lactantius' Theology and Cosmology
Gabor Kendeffy, Budapest
In this paper first, I will try to give an answer to the question of what Lac
tantius could mean by speaking of God's fiery substance. My second aim is to
shed light on a metaphorical side of Lactantius' cosmology. The third section
of my communication is meant to point to the influence of Apuleius'De mundo
on Lactantius' cosmology.
The main attributes of God in Lactantius are the following: he is of immea

surable power, eternal, unchangeable, blessed1, invisible2, moreover, he has
perception (sensus), thinking (cogitatio), reason and intellect (ratio, intel-
ligere), life (vivere), movement in more than one sense (moveri), will (velle),
providence (providere, administrare) and activity (actio)3. Furthermore, he has
some kind of shape (figura)4, which - in Lactantius' system - does not prevent
him from being incorporeal5, transcendent to the created world6, and
absolutely distinct from the matter he has shaped the world from. What I
would stress here is his special relation to fire: virtus Dei sit in calore et ignf.
Outstanding scholars have discussed the question of how in Lactantius' sys
tem God's incorporeal and transcendent nature can be reconciled with his fiery
substance. G. Verbeke and M. Colish consider Lactantius' view on God as a
Stoic and materialist one8, whereas V. Loi stresses the Platonist traits of this
1 inst. 2.8.44.
2 inst. 7.9.7.
3 opif. 2.1; Inst. 2.10.3; 2.2.2.; Inst. 2.8.33-34; ira 4.2.
4 ira 2.5; 18.13-14. Cf. 10.34-35.
5 inst. 2.8.39ff.; 6.25.2; 6.25.7; 7.9.7; epit. 53.2. Cf epit. 3.1.).
6 inst. 7.2-3.
7 inst. 2.9.16.
8 G. Verbeke, L'Evolution de la doctrine du 'pneuma' du stoicisme a Saint Augustin, etude
philosophique (Paris, 1945), 473ff; M. L. Colish, The Stoic Tradition from Antiquity to the Early
Middle Ages, 2 vols (Leiden, 1985), ii, 40ff.
392 G. Kendeffy
concept9. 1 would suggest a middle position, shedding light on a neglected side

of the thought of the theologian.
Let me draw attention to the fact that a group of Lactantius' statements indi
cates an external relationship between God and fire, even if this external rela
tionship implies some kind of affinity.
God made the heavens (caelum) from the matter which he had made from
nothing, then he chose the heavens as abode (sedes) for himself. God con
ceived (excogitavit) heat, as well as moisture, the opposite principle10. Several
signs make us assume that this relationship is rather metaphorical.
As far as the human soul is concerned, it originates, so to speak, (velut),
from the heavens (caelum). An interesting passage creates a really metaphori
cal connection between the human soul and heavens, on the one hand, and
between empirical fire and heaven, on the other. Lactantius affirms here that
the use of fire has been given to man, the heavenly and immortal animal, as
evidence (argumentum) of his immortality, for fire comes from the heavens11.
The heavens (caelum) which the empirical fire comes from are obviously not
identical to the heaven (caelum as well) which is the source of the human soul.
Yet it is owing to the empirical heavens as a link in the chain of metaphors that
our familiarity with the empirical fire can serve as evidence (that is, a sign) of
the facts that our fate is in God's hand. The expression in argumentum ...
datus est suggests that Lactantius regards this structure of metaphors as a peda
gogical one, offered by God himself.
The argument itself, based on the upright attitude, belongs to the same
structure of metaphors. The stature and the attitude of man signifies (signifi-
care) that the human intellect should look upward, imitating the body which
he should dominate (ut id, cui dominari debet, imitetur). Since Lactantius
warns against searching the nature of heavenly things and denies that one
can grasp the nature of God, there is really nothing but a metaphorical con
nection between the two kinds of up - that is, the physical and the meta
physical12.
Therefore, I would say that, when assigning to God a fire-like nature, our
author thought of something which is not really material, but which he could
9 V. Loi, Lattanzio nella storia del linguaggio e del pensiero teologico pre-niceno (Zurich,
1970), 33ff.
10 inst. 2.9.15: Duo igitur ilia principalia inveniuntur, quae diversam et contrariam sibi
habent potestatem: calor et humor: quae mirabiliter Deus ad sustentanda et gignenda omnia
excogitavit.
11 inst. 2.9.25: Nos enim quoniam coeleste atque immortale animal sumus, igne utimur, qui
nobis in argumentum immortalitatis datus est, quoniam ignis e coelo est.
12 inst. 2. 1 . 1 8 : ... cumfigura et status nihil aliud significent, nisi mentem hominis eo spectare
oportere, quo vultum et animum tam rectum esse debere, quam corpus, ut id, cui dominari debet,
imitetur.
Metaphorical Approach in Lactantius' Theology and Cosmology 393
not grasp and describe in other than materialistic terms, that is in those of fiery
subtlety, mobility and shining. There is a passage which illustrates well this
trait of Lactantius' thinking. 'If this little sphere, which looks no bigger than a
human head, shines so strong that mortal eyes can not glance at it ... what
shining can be in God who is not darkened by any night?'13 That is to say,
between the light of the Sun and that of God there is an infinite difference.
This comparison suggests that even if the creator ought to be substantially dif
ferent from all created things, in the case of the sun this difference is, in a way,
quantitative. In contrast to the Platonic metaphor of light, in Lactantius'
thought the stress is on the continuity and not on the distance between the two
terms of the metaphor.
It has been pointed out that even in the early Stoa and to a greater extent
in Posidonius' fragments - and also in Cicero's dialogue On the nature of
gods, influenced by the latter - we are left with two conflicting theological
views. The one is characterized by the antagonism of active and passive ele
ments, while the other locates the main metaphysical distinction between the
pneuma or ether and the four materialistic elements14. That is to say, the
concept of fire has undergone a spiritualization in the Stoic school. A simi
lar process has taken place in the Peripatetic tradition. In Jean Pepin's view,
as early as Aristotle's De philosophia the ether had been so far distinguished
from empirical matter that it was identified with the intellect15. Later, while
tracing back the structure of the universe to the antagonism of opposite ele
ments, the pseudo-Aristotelian treatise On the Universe (Peri Kosmou,
De Mundo) has the holy ether (sanctus aether), the 'divine and inviolable
element' of the heavens, taken out of this cosmological struggle16. The Latin
version of this work, made by Apuleius, is very likely to have been at
Lactantius disposal.
On the basis of my arguments I would suggest that this spiritualized concept
of fire manifests itself in Lactantius' theology.
13 inst. 6.2.3 : Et lamen cum tam parvo circulo, qui propter longinquitatem non amplius quam
humani capitis esse videtur habere mensuram, tantum sit fulgoris, ut eum mortalium luminum
acies non queat intueri, . . . quid tandem luminis, quid claritatis apud ipsum Deum, penes quem
nulla nox est, esse arbitremur.
14 St. Gersh, Middle Platonism and Neoplatonism: The Latin Tradition, 2 vols, Publications
in Mdieval Studies 23/1-2 (Notre Dame, 1986), I, 79, note 89; 95, note 139.
15 J. Pepin, Theologie cosmique et theologie chretienne (Ambroise, Exam. I, 1, 1-4.) (Paris,
1964).
16 Apuleius, De mundo 1.291: ... elementum ... divinum et inviolabile; 2.293: Deinde solis
est orbis et ultima omnium luna, altitudinis aethereae principia disterminans, quae divinas et
immortales vivacitates ignium pascens ordinatis ac semper aequalibus invectionibus solvitur
atque reparatur; 3.293: ... sancti aetheris; 5.297: ... aether vicissim ignesque Mi immortalis dei
vivacitate flammantur ... Superna quapropter dii superi sedes habent.
394 G. Kendeffy
2.
The metaphorical approach can be detected also in Lactantius' cosmology.

In the view of the theologian, this world is permeated in its every particular by
the antagonism of the two Spirits. Earth and sky, up and down, light and dark
ness, and in point of fact each term of every single pair of cosmological oppo-
sites is an expression of this pre-cosmic polarity: East and West, South and
North, summer and winter, spring and fall, day and night, hot and cold, fire
and water17. Many of these pairs of opposites seem entirely arbitrary, and can
only be brought into correspondence with the fundamental opposition of good
and evil through constant shifts of viewpoint. What, for instance, should be
our attitude to Southwest?
Certain expressions present the connection between corporeal entities and
the two Spirits as artificial. God located (posuit) in the heavens the eternal
light, the after-world and life, and he positioned (constituit) in the earth the
eternal darkness, hell, and death18; the West is assigned (adscribitur) to the
Spirit of Evil19.
It would seem that the pre-cosmological principles do not really stand in a
metaphysical relation to that which expresses them in the universe. I would
label this relation rather as metaphorical. I feel encouraged to do this by the
kind of semantic terminology Lactantius uses, as in the following statement:
East and West include the symbol of life and death (figura vitae et mortis con-
tinetur).20 Day and Night are the symbols (imago, similitudo) of true religion
and superstition21; the moisture symbolizes death (figuram mortis ostendit.)22.
The cosmological principles and entities are symbols and signs in the service
of divine pedagogy in the same as, for instance, in the history of salvation the
commandments given to the Jews are the figurae of Christian rules of life23, or
as Christ's power to do miracles symbolizes his true and much greater power
(imago virtutis maioris), by which he is able to recall all nations to God24. This
metaphorical side of Lactantius' cosmology seems to be quite conscious. This
claim is supported by Lactantius' judgement on pagan poets. When the ancient
poets described Jupiter as the king of heavens (rex coeli), in Lactantius' view
it was not a pure invention: they wrote in a figurative sense (praefigurasse),
putting 'heavens' for East; they did this on the ground that the eastern region
17 inst. 2.9.; cf. ira 15.2.

18 inst. 2.9.3.
19 inst. 2.9.5.
20 inst. 2.9.4.
21 inst. 2.9.11; 9.13.
22 inst. 2.9.26.
23 inst. 4.17.14ff.
24 inst. 4.26. 14ff.
is, so to speak, of higher order (quasi superior), for the sun rises there25. Thus,
Lactantius assigns a metaphorical technique to pagan poets which is similar to
his own: in both cases a symbolic superiority is attributed to the eastern region
on the ground that the sun rises there.
As we have seen, in Lactantius' view the creation itself is metaphorical. All
these pairs of opposites, far from bearing positive or negative values in them
selves, serve to remind human beings of the difference between good and evil
and the necessity of unceasing and scrupulous moral reflection. For human
wisdom consists in nothing but making the distinction between good and
evil26. That is the reason why the members of the pairs of the opposites should
represent the fundamental opposition between the two Spirits.
It has already been pointed out which were the most important philosophical
and religious movements that influenced Lactantius' cosmological dualism. In
this context the importance of Zoroastriasm, Neopythagoreanism27, Stoicism28,
and hermeticism29 has been stressed. I would like to draw attention to certain
striking parallels between some passages of our theologian and Apuleius' (or
forementioned) translation of the pseudo-Aristotelian Peri Kosmou.
This treatise presents a doctrine which is, to some extent, similar to Lactan
tius' cosmology: the universe has emerged from the struggle between opposite
physical elements30, and the harmony of the world results precisely from their
conflicting nature31. The main difference between the two descriptions of cos
mological conflict is that the pseudo-Aristotelian writing puts more stress on
the harmony resulting from the cosmological struggle, whereas Lactantius
regards the conflict as predominant in this world. Nevertheless, the idea of
God's tempering force is common to both of the authors32. Both texts hold to
25 epit. 12.1-2.
26 inst. 7.4.11-14.
27 K. Wilhelmson, Laktanz und die Kosmogonie des Spdtantiken Synkretismus, (Acta et Com-
mentaria Universitatis Tarturensis, Humaniora 49) (Tartu, 1940).
28 S. Brandt, Uber die dualistischen Zusdtze und die Kaiseranreden bei Lactantius. Nebst
einer Untersuchung uber das Leben des Lactantius und die Entstehungsverhdltnisse seiner
Prosaschriften, 3, Uber das Leben des Lactantius, Sitzungsberichte der Kai'serlichen Akademie
der Wissenschaften (Wien), Philosophisch-Historische Klasse 120.5 (1890), 65ff.
29 A. Wlosok, Lactam und die Philosophische Gnosis. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte und
Terminologie der gnostischen Erlosungsvorstellung, Abhandlungen der Heidelberger Akademie
der Wissenschaften, Philosophisch-Historische Klasse 1960.2.
30 Apuleius, De mundo 20.334.
31 Apuleius, De mundo 19.333-337.
32 Apuleius, De mundo 19.333; 21.336. Cf. Lactantius, inst. 2.9.16: Nam cum virtus Dei sit in
calore et igni, nisi ardorem vimque eius admixta humoris acfrigoris materia temperasset, nec nasci
quidquam nec cohaerere potuisset, quin statim conflagratione interiret, quidquid esse coepisset.
396 G. Kendeffy
be necessary not only the physical, but also the moral contrarieties - which
implies in both the idea that the vices are useful33.
Furthermore, several elements of the terminology of Apuleius' textplay an
important role in Lactantius' theological vocabulary. The most striking simi
larity is the use of the adjective diversus in the sense of contrarius. 'Diversus'
has a remarkably broad meaning between the signification of contrarius and
that of varius34. Lactantius sometimes uses it in the sense of simple differ
ence35, but in most cases, when he writes 'diversus', he means radical differ
ence, incompatibility or contrariety36. He employs this adjective or the noun
diversitas consistently to designate the two Spirits or their antagonism37. One
can detect the same tendency in Apuleius' text. In the context of the struggle
between the opposite elements, the Latin translator renders the evdvnog of the
Greek original consistently by diversus. Very close textual paralells are more
than likely to be the result of Lactantius' dependence on Apuleius' text38.
This choice of term even in Apuleius' translation suggests the idea that all
difference can be understood as contrariety. This text could inspire Lactantius
mainly because he held that God had chosen simple differences to function as
earthly metaphors of the fundamental antagonism of good and evil. One of the
close textual parallels I hinted at is especially meaningful: both Apuleius and
Lactantius speak about the struggle of opposite elements (for example, fire and
earth, fire and water), and at the same time both of them use the word societas
for the connection of earth and heavens39. It is noteworthy that in the Greek
original of the De mundo the less personal auaxr|ua occurs, which does not
33 Apuleius, De mundo 19.334: Sunt enim pariter dites et egentes, adolescens aetas permixta
senioribus, ignavi cumfortibus (Peri Kosmou: daGevcov laxupcov), pessimi optimis congregati.
The moralising tendency of Apuleius' translation compared to the Greek original is worth notic
ing again.
34 Thesaurus Linguae Latinae IV, 1575-86.
35 inst. 4.4.3.
36 ira 15.9; inst. 2.8.31; 4.3.19; 6.3.17.; epit. 2.3.
37 opif. 19.2*; (CSEL 27 (ed. S. Brandt, 1983), 61 ad l. 16); inst. 2.8*. 2-3 (CSEL 19 (ed. S.
Brandt, 1890), 130 ad l. 5); 5.7.3.
38 Apuleius, De mundo 19.333: Et quibusdam mirum videri solet, quum ex diversis atque
inter se pugnantibus elementis (Peri Kosmou, 396a £k xajv £vavxia>v dpxcov) mundi natura
conflata sit, aridis atque fluxis, glacialibus et ignitis, tanto rerum divortio (words missing from
the P.K.) nondum fit eius mortalitas dissoluta. Quibus Mud simile satisfaciet, cum in urbe ex
diversis et contrariis (P.K. 396b: £k xcov £vavxwoxaxcov £Gvcbv) corporata rerum inaequalium
multitudo concordat. Cf. Lactantius, inst. 2.13: Ex rebus igitur diversis et repugnantibus homo
factus est, sicut ipse mundus ex luce et tenebris; ira 15.2: ipsum mundum ex duobus elementis
repugnantibus et invicem copulatis esse concretum. Apuleius, 1.289: Mundus omnis societate
caeli et terrae constat et eorum natura quae utriusque sunt (P.K. 391b: crucrtr|na). Cf. Lactan
tius, inst. 2.12.10: In hoc igitur societate coeli atque terrae, quorum effigies expressa est in
homine, superiorem partem tenent ea quae sunt Dei, anima scilicet, quae dominium corporis
habet; inferiorem autem ea quae sunt diaboli, corpus utique . . .
39 See the previous note.
express the tension which societas bears in this context. Here again the
Apuleian text renders a great service to the theologian, for the latter considers
all connections of the opposite elements as God's useful and beautiful cre
ation, but was at the same time aware that they are temporary and fragile.
Nota sobre el metodo Tertulianeo
Jeronimo Leal, Rome
El considerable niimero de trabajos de investigacion realizados en los ulti-

mos anos sobre la obra de Tertuliano nos permite hoy conocer, con mayor pre
cision, en que consiste para el el saber teologico. Poco a poco se han ido deli-
neando las diversas caracteristicas de su metodo que aparece como claro y util.
Tertuliano ha sido considerado habitualmente el primer te61ogo de lengua
latina1. En su opinion, la Teologia es un intento de organizar realidades cono-
cidas a traves de la razon y la fe, una especie de fenomenologia que implica
una percepcion inmediata de las realidades y se preocupa de definirlas, situar-
las y jerarquizarlas2.
Tres elementos a nuestro modo de ver, configuran el panorama metodolo-
gico del norteafricano: regula fidei, S. Escritura, raz6n. Sobre el primero de
ellos, la regula fidei, se ha dicho que es el principio basico de su hermeneutica.
La cuestion parece clara, si se admite que es base, es decir, que es una regula
que 'regula', valga la redundancia, los otros dos principios. El tema ha sido
tratado ya por distintos autores. Tambien el segundo tema ha sido estudiado3.
Nos proponemos ahora prestar atencion al tercer elemento de su metodo, la
razon, y analizar en que modo la emplea el norteafricano.
1 A Tertuliano teologo es dificil separarlo del ret6rico, ya que 'the art emphasizes, clarifies,
and illuminates the theology'. Cf. R.D. Sider, 'Structure and Design in the "De Resurrectione
mortuorum" of Tertullian', VC 23 (1969), p. 177. Los dos principios de su ret6rica son la ver-
dad, como opuesta a la falsa elocuencia (ueritas autem docendo persuadet, non suadendo docet.
Val. 1.4), y la brevedad (Marc. II.28.3; An. 2.7; Virg. 4.4).
2 Cf. J. Dani61ou, Histoire des doctrines chretiennes avant Nicee, T. Ill, Les origines du
christianisme latin (Paris, 1978), p. 277. En realidad Tertuliano aplica el termino theologia s61o
al estudio de las divinidades paganas. Cf. Nat. II. 1.8, 2.14, 8.4.
3 Cf. P. Siniscalco, 'Appunti sulla terminologia esegetica di Tertulliano', en La terminologia
esegetica nell'antichita, (Bari, 1987) pp. 103-22; J.H. Waszink, 'Tertullian's Principles and Met
hods of Exegesis', en Early Christian Literature and the Classical Intellectual Tradition. In
honorem Robert M. Grant, ed. W.R. Schoedel and R.L. Wilken, Theologie historique 54 (Paris,
1979), pp. 17-31 ; T.P. O'Malley, Tertullian and the Bible, Latinitas Christianorum Primaeva 21
(Nijmegen, 1967); A. Hamman, 'La typologie biblique et sa formulation chez Tertullien', en
Eulogia. Melanges offerts a A.A.R. Bastiaensen, ed. G.J.M. Bartelink, Instrumenta patristica et
mediaevalia (Steenbrugge/The Hague, 1991), pp. 137-46, por citar los que mis directamente se
refieren al tema.
400 J. Leal
1. El uso de la razon por Tertuliano
Parece desmedida la afirmacion de que para Tertuliano todo conocimiento

natural es falso, puesto que la norma de la verdad es unicamente la fe.
En la polemica que Tertuliano sostiene contra los diversos oponentes para
defender el contenido de la regulafidei, parece que es la razon la que sale per-
diendo, pero si a alguien hay que echar las culpas sera a los filosofos o, mejor
aun, a los herejes que hacen mal uso de la Filosofia, y no a esta misma. Tertu
liano, estamos persuadidos, busca la unidad de fe y razon, como busca la uni-
dad de cuerpo y alma, aunque sin desatender a las diferencias4. Tertuliano ha
hecho algo mas que introducir nuevos terminos, pero no les ha dado definicio-
nes filosoficas. Es licito afirmar que Tertuliano dio a su teologia un cuno silo-
gistico y dialectico, pues no filosofa, sino que razona alternativamente entre
los argumentos ex auctoritate y e ratione.
Ahora bien, dado que no rechaza Tertuliano el uso de la razon en su argu-
mentar constante, podemos preguntarnos en que modo hace uso de ella. Algu-
nos nan visto contradicciones internas en la obra del cartagines, pero tambien
encontramos quienes sostienen que es preciso buscar la unidad de los textos
aparentemente incoherentes5. Tertuliano tiene un gran deseo de claridad, amor
por lo concreto, cercanfa a la realidad. De ahf que en ocasiones se vea preci-
sado no solo a emplear, sino incluso a formular cuales han sido sus reglas de
pensamiento, de modo que el receptor de su mensaje pueda analizar los pasos
logicos con mayor precision. No nos cabe duda de la honestidad intelectual del
cartagines. El mismo reconoce que se pueden encontrar esas reglas exami-
nando bien los contenidos a los que se quieren aplicar6: Et utique erunt regu-
lae certae ad examinandam Dei bonitatem. Sed prius est, ut inueniam Mam et
adprehendam, et ita ad regulas perducam. Primero hay que aprehender la ver
dad, y solo despues reducirla a reglas. Lo contrario seria forzar la realidad para
reducirla a un esquema prefijado.
2. Las reglas del pensamiento en Tertuliano
Si se rastrea en la obra del norteafricano se encuentran formuladas las reglas

que le han servido para pensar en modo riguroso. Podemos enumerar las
siguientes.
4 Cf. G. Esser, Die Seelenlehre Tertullians (Paderborn, 1893), pp. 19-20. 'Vernunfterkenntnis
und Glaube sind, wenn auch von einander verschieden, so doch nicht entgegengesetzt.' Mas ade-
lante senala tambien Esser: 'Der Glaube giebt hohere und vollkommenere Erkenntnis.' Esto es
reconocer las cosas en su justo equilibrio.
5 Cf. J.C. Fredouille, Tertullien et la conversion de la culture antique (Paris, 1972), p. 21. Se
trata de sopesar tambien la cantidad de las afirmaciones: pauca aduersus plura defendunt (Prax.
20.3) y alicuius capituli ancipitis occasione aduersus exercitum sententiarum (Pud. 16.24).
6 Marc. I.22.2.
1. La fidelidad de los nombres es la conservacion de las propiedades7.

2. Lo posterior se deduce de lo anterior8.
3. Nada puede ser, por su origen, anterior en el conocimiento, si no ha tenido
realidad9.
4. La imagen sigue a la realidad10.
5. Cuanto precede por su origen a todas las cosas, es necesario que tambien
las preceda cuando se niegan11.
6. No tienen un orden entre ellas sino las cosas iguales y las que tienen un
mismo nombre, sustancia y artifice12.
7. Las realidades se contienen en las letras, pero las letras se leen en las reali-
dades13.
Los ejemplos se podrian multiplicar14. Son mas abundantes, nos parece, en
Aduersus Marcionem porque el minimo comun de S. Escritura con el adversa-
rio requiere mucho mas uso de la razon, para convencer, pero toda la obra de
Tertuliano esta plagada de razonamientos clave, muestra del sentido comun
del norteafricano15, que constituirian una potente estructura en la que se pue-
den cimentar los principios de la regula fidei.
3. Elementos de 'Logica Estoica' en la obra de Tertuliano
Llegados a este punto, se impone una observacion. El gusto por las parado-
jas que se encuentra en Tertuliano, desvela en parte la influencia estoica que
ha recibido el cartagines, probada ya por algunos estudios16. La afirmacion,
7 Fides nominum salus est proprietatum (Cam. 13.2).

8 Nulla posteritas non a primordiis accipit (Marc. II. 17.3).
9 Nihil origine sua prius est in agnitione, quia nec in dispositione (Marc. III.2.3).
10 Sequitur statum similitudo (Marc. III.10.1).
11 Quae (scil.: origo) quantum praecedit in statu omnium rerum, tantum praecedat necesse
est etiam in retractatu earum (Marc. V.l.l).
12 Non habent ordinem inter se nisi paria quaeque et eiusdem uel nominis uel substantiae uel
auctoris (Marc. V.10.8).
13 Res in litteris tenentur, litterae in rebus leguntur (Res. 20.9).
14 Cf. Diuinitati competit quaecumque decreuerit ut perfecta reputare, quia non sit apud
Mam differentia temporis (Marc. III.5.2). Qui disposuit demutationem, iste instituit et diuersita-
tem; qui praedicauit innouationem, iste praenuntiauit et contrarietatem (Marc. IV. 1.9); Deus
auctoritatem praestet disciplinae, non Deo disciplina (Marc. IV.12.2).
15 Como lo reconoce 61 mismo en Res. 3.1: Est quidem et de communibus sensibus sapere in
Dei rebus. . .
16 J. Morgan, The Importance ofTertullian in the Development of Christian Dogma (London,
1928), p. 11. Cf. tambien las paginas 367-70 de C. Moreschini 'Tertulliano tra stoicismo e plato-
nismo', en 'Kerygma und Logos' . Beitrdge zu den geistesgeschichtlichen Beziehungen zwischen
Antike und Christentum. Festschrift fiir Carl Andresen, Hrg. A.M. Ritter (Gottingen, 1979), pp.
367-79. H. Karpp, Probleme altchristlicher Anthropologic Biblische Anthropologie und philo-
sophische Psychologie bei den Kirchenvdtern des dritten Jahrhunderts (Giitersloh, 1950), p. 47.
402 J. Leal
considerada ya como definitiva, nos impulsa a buscar en sus escritos elemen-

tos de la logica de los estoicos. Nos referimos mas especificamente al empleo
de las llamadas proposiciones at6micas y moleculares17 y a la innovacion de
las 'tablas de verdad' que se atribuye a los estoicos18, utilizada por S. Agustin
cuando rebate a los Academicos. En efecto, dice Sexto:
Aunque sean cuatro las posibilidades de un silogismo condicional, es decir, que
comience por una afirmacion verdadera y termine por una verdadera, que comience por
una falsa y termine por una falsa, que comience por una falsa y termine con una ver
dadera, o al reves, que comience por una verdadera y termine con una falsa, sin
embargo solo de las tres primeras se sigue un juicio verdadero. En efecto, si de una
premisa verdadera, se sigue una conclusion verdadera, el juicio es verdadero; si de una
falsa se sigue una falsa, el juicio tambien es verdadero; lo mismo sucede si de una
falsa se sigue una verdadera; s61o es falso el juicio en el que de una condicion verda
dera se sigue una conclusi6n falsa19.
Nos preguntamos, entonces, ^podemos encontrar trazas de la utilizacion de
la logica estoica en diversas obras tertulianeas? Nuestra investigacion nos
lleva a responder afirmativamente. Por ejemplo, encontramos una proposicion
atomica condicional en la afirmacion esquematica de que 'si Dios existe, creo
el mundo': 'Muestrame, afirma Tertuliano, una explicacion adecuada a la dig-
nidad de Dios: £por que no creo nada, si existe verdaderamente? Pues, sin
duda, habria creado alguna cosa si existiese, en correspondencia al razona-
miento segun el cual es evidente que Dios existe porque ha creado toda la rea-
lidad'20. Si pasamos a enunciados mas complejos podemos aducir la siguiente
proposicion molecular disyuntiva compuesta de dos proposiciones atomicas
condicionales en: Deus si est uetus, non erit, si est nouus, nonfuit21, que con-
tiene todos los elementos para que se la pueda denominar 'tabla de verdad',
pues implicitamente (Tertuliano sostiene la eternidad de Dios) es toda ella
falsa y cualquiera de las dos condiciones que se afirme niega la otra.
Otra de estas 'tablas de verdad' nos parece haber encontrado alli donde
afirma que el hombre no sabe en cada momento si es 'hombre nuevo' o bien
'hombre viejo'22. Otra en la argumentacion de que los que se oponen a la resu
rreccion de la carne sostienen que
o los cuerpos deben permanecer en la otra vida con sus funciones propias y sus frutos,
como cosas anejas a la corporeidad,
Cf. S. Otto, 'Natura' und 'dispositio', Untersuchung zum Naturbegriff und zur Denkform Tertu-
llians (Miinchen, 1960), p. 33.
17 Cf. Diogenes Laercio, Vitae VII.68 y ss. Los terminos griegos correspondientes son el adje-
tivo hnXboq, simple, y ouk hnXboq compuesto.
18 Cf. Sexto Empfrico, Adversus mathematicos VOT.247.
19 Cf. Sexto Empfrico, Ibidem.
20 Marc. I.11.6.
21 Marc. I.8.3.
22 Res. 45.5.
o bien, puesto que es evidente que las funciones ccsan, tambien suprimen la corporei-
dad, dado que no hay que creer que se mantenga sin miembros, porque estos no exis-
ten sin su funcion23.
Ambas posibilidades son falsas, en opinion de Tertuliano, partidario de un
cuerpo igual al presente, aunque privado de funciones (no de los miembros)
que no tendran ya sentido en la otra vida.
Otro ejemplo mas, en esta linea, seria el siguiente:
Dado que las Escrituras indican los advenimientos de los ultimos tiempos y ponen en
el fin del mundo el fruto de la esperanza, parece
o bien, que se cumplira entonces todo lo que Dios nos ha prometido y aiin nos falta, lo
cual dicen los herejes que ya ha sucedido,
o bien, si la recepci6n del sacramento es la resurrecci6n, se cree asegurada tambien
aquella que se predica para el ultimo dia;
y se sigue de esto mismo que puesto que se defiende la espiritual, se presupone la cor
poral: porque
si no se anunciase ninguna, con razon se defenderia unicamente la espiritual,
pero como se anuncia para los ultimos tiempos, se reconoce la corporal, puesto que no
se anuncia una resurreccion espiritual para ese momenta24.
Esta argumentacion consta de dos partes. En la primera, la premisa es que la
Escritura afirma la resurreccion de la carne en los litimos tiempos. Siguen tres
posibilidades: o ya se ha realizado, o habra al final de los tiempos una resu
rreccion espiritual y una corporal, o ya ha habido una espiritual y se espera
otra corporal. No existen mas posibilidades, desde el punto de vista logico.
Ademas, de las tres solo puede ser falsa, segiin las reglas de Sexto Empirico,
la que extrae una conclusion falsa de una premisa verdadera, es decir, aquella
segtin la cual la resurreccion ya se ha realizado.
En la segunda parte, la premisa es la aceptacion, como linica posibilidad, de
una resurreccion espiritual que no excluya la corporal. El anuncio, que afecta
siempre a un futuro aiin no llegado, ofrece dos posibilidades: que no se anun-
cie ninguna resurreccion (o se anuncie que no habra resurreccion) -en cualquier
caso la premisa es falsa- y entonces solo es posible la resurreccion espiritual; o
que se anuncie para el momento final y entonces sera' corporal. En razon de
estricta logica estoica, el primero de los dos juicios es verdadero, puesto que de
una premisa falsa se sigue una conclusion falsa. La 'cierta logica' de este juicio
es subrayada por Tertuliano con el adverbio latino merito, expresion -a nuestro
modo de ver- del acuerdo con el sistema de Sexto Empirico.
Con estos casos nos parece haber mostrado el uso por Tertuliano de los ele-
mentos de logica estoica, quiza presentes en el ambiente cultural contempora-
neo. Uso de la razon hay en Tertuliano, y mas bien exquisite
23 Res. 60.1.
24 Res. 25.3.
Tertullian's Use of the Regula Fidei as an
Interpretive Device in Adversus Marcionem
Bryan M. Litfin, Chicago
It was no small compliment when in 1908 Pierre de Labriolle wrote con

cerning Tertullian, 'One can say that there has scarcely been another author,
starting with the sixteenth century, who has been more read, more admired,
more often used for modern theology'1. But this statement is not so true in the
realm of hermeneutics, where Tertullian has often been viewed with a scepti
cal eye. Perhaps we must take a new look at this ancient author. To do so, we
must rethink one of the most common ways Tertullian has been evaluated in
contemporary scholarship, that is, by drawing out and collecting together the
'hermeneutical rules' with which he operated2. When the subject is closely
examined, we see that Tertullian did indeed enunciate scattered exegetical
principles that seem to be vitally important to him. Yet to expect these state
ments, which were occasional in nature, to serve as the keys for unlocking
Tertullian's interpretive system is misguided at best. Such an approach focuses
undue attention on hermeneutical method, a preoccupation which did not
really characterize the ancient authors3. When it comes to Tertullian, we find
much more emphasis on the specific content of doctrinal matters. For example,
1 Pierre de Labriolle, 'L'argument de prescription', Revue d'histoire et de lliterature

religieuses 11 (1908), 413.
2 For example, one scholar writes, 'Therefore it is the case that a great quantity of hermeneu
tical principles are found scattered throughout his whole corpus, apparently secondary in nature,
but which, rightly viewed, constitute the formal underpinnings of his theological argumentation'.
Gottfried Zimmermann, Die hermeneutischen Prinzipien Tertullians (Wiirzburg: Druckerei u.
Verlag Konrad Triltsch, 1937), 5.
3 This is not to say the ancients never addressed method. Indeed, the codification of
hermeneutical theory into distinct 'rules' is well attested. Two obvious examples can be drawn
from the field of biblical interpretation. First, we note the seven middot attributed to R. Hillel,
which were expanded into the thirteen middot of R. Ishmael. See Sifra, Beraita deRabbi Ishmael,
tr. G.G. Porton, in Jacob Neusner, Sifra: An Analytical Translation, 3 vols (Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 1988), 1, 57-63. It has even been provocatively suggested, based upon at least four
observed kinds of argumentation, that Tertullian had explicit knowledge of rabbinic exegetical
methods, and was in fact acquainted with specific middot. See the extensive footnote, which
takes its cues from Frend, in J. Massingberd Ford, 'St. Paul, the Philogamist (I Cor. VII in Early
Patristic Exegesis)', NTS 1 1 (1965), 335-6. The other example of a rules-based approach to bib
lical interpretation is Tyconius' Liber regularum, which had so profound an effect on Augustine.
See F.C. Burkitt, ed„ The Book of Rules of Tyconius, Texts and Studies 3,1 (Cambridge, 1894);
text reprinted with tr. by W.S. Babcock (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989).
406 B. LlTFIN
in his controversy with Marcion he was interested in whether the Old Testa
ment prophets rightly foretold the advent of the eternal Word. In other words,
to the extent that Tertullian concerned himself with discussions of hermeneu-
tics, he did not do so in the abstract. He always discussed biblical interpreta
tion with a view toward bringing concrete and specific doctrinal questions into
line with the overall truth of the Christian faith.
It has often been said that the occasional and polemical nature of Tertul-
lian's exegesis has overwhelmed any internal coherence he might have pos
sessed. Although some very solid 'hermeneutical rules' can be found scattered
throughout his writings, Tertullian is said to have applied them so haphazardly
that he cannot be thought of as anything but an opportunist who engaged all
too frequently in specious exegesis. For example, the foundational work of
Holl begins on a positive note when the author suggests, Tt is no exaggeration
if one should assert that the norms of proper exegesis are pronounced by no
one in antiquity so clearly as by Tertullian'4. However, he goes on to say, 'Ter
tullian himself quite frequently disregards his hermeneutical principles' and
'usually only makes use of them whenever it is advantageous for his own
opinion'. The study of Zimmermann is likewise to be noted for its scepticism
as to the possibility of recovering a comprehensive hermeneutical perspective
in Tertullian. He writes, 'Tertullian has left behind no system of biblical
hermeneutics, and to judge from the whole character of his literary works,
would probably never have perceived a systematic theory of hermeneutics as
the task set for him'5. Similarly, Karpp's 1955 study concludes that
Tertullian has admittedly recognized and pronounced the rules in an exceptionally
clear way for his time. But they are accompanied by the weakness of random applica
tion; that is, they are not rooted in an equally clear overarching theological system.
Meanwhile this further deficiency is even more notable, that in biblical interpretation
Tertullian does not infrequently contravene his own rules. If one wished, one could
really even find in his writings the misuse of scripture as one of his rules6.
Thus, 'Tertullian's hermeneutic, just like his whole corpus, was often intended
for the moment, and is anything but systematic'7. After Karpp, the method of
distinguishing hermeneutical rules will be well established. In sum, the con
sensus has been that Tertullian's hermeneutical rules, when collected together,
express solid interpretive principles. However, he fails to put them into prac
tice in a consistent and reliable way.
4 Karl Holl, 'Tertullian als Schriftsteller', reprinted from Preussische Jahrbiicher 88 (1897)
in Gesammelte Aufsdtze zur Kirchengeschichte, vol. 3. (Tubingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1928), 5.
5 Zimmermann, 2.
6 Heinrich Karpp, Schrift und Geist bei Tertullian (Guttersloh: C. Bertelsmann Verlag, 1955),
28. On Tertullian's erratic exegesis, Karpp cites Zimmermann as his authority.
7 Ibid., 29.
Tertullian's Use of the Regula Fidei 407
Against this depiction of the haphazard Tertullian, another perspective

needs to be offered. Perhaps it is a misconstrual of his intent to cull out certain
passing remarks and turn them into 'rules' that should be consistently applied
as a universal interpretive system. The truth is that Tertullian was very coher
ent and systematic in his interpretive approach - but we will miss the forest for
the trees if we think technical and uniform application of discrete maxims pro
vides the best understanding of his hermeneutics. A rigorous desire to follow
certain 'hermeneutical rules' did not determine how Tertullian approached a
given text. Rather, the overall content of scripture - and indeed, the entire
shape and flow of the biblical narrative - is what determined the outcome of
any given instance of interpretation. We must look harder if we are to discover
the real organizing principle of Tertullian's biblical exegesis.
Of course, it is not that the convictions expressed in the hermeneutical rules
were not important to Tertullian. They were, and sometimes he followed them
precisely. Yet we dare not press the rules too closely. When we find Tertullian
articulating exegeses that violate a rule stated elsewhere, we are not necessar
ily forced to the conclusion that he does so because he lacked a systematic
hermeneutic. Tertullian's statements about interpretive technique, while use
ful, will not yield the fullest possible grasp of his exegesis. Rather, we should
recognize that it is his use of the regula fidei that will serve as the master key
for unlocking the mystery of his biblical interpretation. This is precisely what
he said in his De Praescriptione Haereticorum; and it is the interpretive vision
articulated there which Tertullian puts into practice in many of his exegetical
endeavours8. To understand his hermeneutics, we must examine Tertullian's
appropriation of the regula fidei as an overarching interpretive device which
provided the meta-narrative to which individual scriptures must conform. This
approach might be called 'regular hermeneutics'.
Let us take the biblical commentaries in Adversus Marcionem as an example
to see how Tertullian used the Rule in biblical interpretation. We will make
three broad observations. First, in Book IV (which is his commentary on Luke)
Tertullian repeatedly conjoined the present Gospel to the prior Old Covenant.
Variations of this conjunction come through again and again, but ultimately
they express two main themes: (1) the relationship of the Old Testament to the
New as a unified progression from preparation to fullness; and (2) the relation
ship of Christ to the Creator as an emissary from a sender. To explain what he
means, Tertullian uses the helpful metaphor of fruit out of seed to describe the
relationship of the Old and the New, or of the Creator and his Christ. He writes,
We admit this separation: one that is achieved through reshaping, through amplification,
through progress, just like fruit is separated from seed, although fruit comes out of seed.
8 See especially De Praescr. 13-14. Tertullian summarizes his approach with the pithy
expression, 'To know nothing against the Rule is to know everything'.
408 B. LlTFIN
So also the Gospel is separate from the Law, even as it is carried forward from out of the
Law - something other than the Law, but not alien to it, different, though not contrary9.
Let us note here that this exegetical assumption about unity with development
is precisely what Tertullian was calling for in De Praescriptione when he
wrote that the Church
knows one Lord God, Creator of the universe; and Christ Jesus born from the Virgin
Mary, the Son of God the Creator. . . It joins the Law and the Prophets with the writ
ings of the Evangelists and Apostles, from which it drinks its faith10.
Book IV of Against Marcion repeatedly demonstrates that the Gospel must be
read as the culmination of a divine plan begun in the Old Testament, a point
which clearly comes across in the regula fidei as well11. By employing a
preparation/fullness scheme in Adv. Marc. IV, Tertullian fulfils the hermeneu-
tical vision he had already laid out in the Praescriptione.
A second observation comes from Book V, which is Tertullian's commen
tary on Paul. Here, Tertullian does not drop his retrospective approach of look
ing back to the Old Testament, but he begins to adopt a forward orientation as
well. He now extends the narrative in the direction of the apostolic ministry,
the economy of the Spirit, and the Church - even as he shows their conso
nance with the Creator's original arrangement. In Book V, we see three main
themes emerge: (1) the attestation of the Creator and his Christ by the apos
tles, especially by Paul; (2) the presence of the Holy Spirit among the saints as
part of the progressive unfolding of God's plan; and (3) the glory of the
Church as a community freed from the burdens of the Law, yet retaining the
Just God of Jewish faith. Tertullian's exegesis regarding these matters reveals
his ever-present intent to develop a unified saga of redemption in Christ under
the direction of the one Creator God. Thus, the Rule's movement is Tertul
lian's movement in Against Marcion: from creation, to prophets, to Gospel, to
the Spirit, the Church, and the eschaton. Book V is the completion of an
exegetical programme patterned on salvation history - just as is the Rule.
Third, we simply observe that throughout this massive exegetical endeavour
Tertullian was always very keen to ensure all of his interpretations came out
in a Christocentric fashion. That is to say, he understood each and every
scriptural text to stand in relation to a cosmic Christology of creation, predic
tion, incarnation, redemption, and consummation. For Tertullian, Jesus Christ
was the unifying theme of all of salvation history, which is both recorded in
scripture and is summarized by the Rule. In Against Marcion we even dis
9 Arfv.Marc.IV.il. 11.
10 De Praescr. 36.5.
11 According to Tertullian, the Word 'was seen in various ways by the patriarchs, was always
heard by the prophets, and finally was brought down by the Spirit and Power of God the Father
into the Virgin Mary, was made flesh in her womb, and was born from her and went forth as
Jesus Christ' (De Praescr. 13.3).
Tertullian's Use of the Regula Fidei 409
cover that Tertullian's interpretive conclusions are in fact predetermined by

this Christocentric meta-narrative of which the Rule is a synopsis. For exam
ple, Marcion's premise that Christ belonged to an 'alien' God is refuted
- before any exegesis is even begun - by the Rule of Faith's insistence that
Christ belongs to the Creator, and was always seen and heard in the prophets
and patriarchs. The only valid Christian story, for Tertullian, moves from the
Father to the Son, instead of the other way around as it does for Marcion. He
writes, 'Everything that deviates from the Rule will be held in suspicion, and
the basic progress of things does not permit the Father to be recognized after
the Son, or the Sender after the Sent, or God after Christ'12. In other words, the
divine plan proceeds in an orderly way, and the Rule provides the only legiti
mate sequence: from the eternal plan of the Father to send the Word, to the
predictions of this truth by the Old Testament prophets, and ultimately to its
fulfilment in Jesus Christ. Repeatedly, we find a concerted effort on Tertul
lian's part to square his interpretive conclusions with the conceptual content of
the Rule of Faith's inherent Christology.
What are we to make of this interpretive approach? Clearly it is not neutral
or objective. He does not come to the text with a blank slate. But does that
make it haphazard? The answer is no. We must begin to view Tertullian as a
systematic thinker when it comes to biblical interpretation. Instead of suppos
ing he relied primarily upon scattershot 'hermeneutical rules', we should
notice how an overarching story - centred upon Jesus Christ - formed the
touchstone of his hermeneutics. For Tertullian, the only legitimate way to read
the bible was to read the story of Christ there. This is precisely why the Rule
was so useful: in a brief and reliable way, it reiterated the whole drama of
scripture, one whose unifying leitmotif is a cosmic Christology of creation,
prediction, incarnation, redemption, and consummation.
Tertullian did not pretend to approach the biblical text with no idea of where
he was headed, as a completely objective textual scientist dispassionately lay
ing bare whatever is there to be found. Instead, he scoured the scriptures in
search of what he already understood the Christian truth to be - and indeed, he
even moved or directed his exegesis toward this end. Like his predecessor
St Irenaeus with his hypothesis, Tertullian was emphatic about the Church's
need for a comprehensive narrative that expresses God's unified (yet econom
ically dispensed) historical story. For Tertullian, the Rule of Faith communi
12 Adv. Marc. III.2.2. Tertullian's use of regula here is probably, though not indubitably, a
reference to the Rule of Faith. My reading is justified by the context and the argumentation. In
the preceding chapter (III. 1.2) he used the term regula as part of his familiar assertion that the
heretics, because of their late appearance, do not preserve the Rule of Faith. In chapter 2 he sim
ply expands upon this idea of disruptive lateness by arguing that Marcion's view of an unan
nounced Christ violates the narrative sequence which is essential to the Rule. Tertullian claimed
the Marcionites overturned the Rule of Faith because they did not adhere to its inherent order, in
which the Father is known among humans first, and only later reveals his Son to them.
410 B. LlTFIN
cated this story in synopsis form. And since the Rule was a summary of the
overall scriptural story, it was a reliable guide to the correct interpretation of a
given biblical text. For that reason, the regulafidei must be taken into account
as the central interpretive key in any assessment of Tertullian's very coherent
and very theological hermeneutics.
Not the Athanasius of the West:
Hilary's Changing Relationship with Athanasius
Mark Weedman, Rochester, Minnesota
In 1836 the German scholar K. Hase first gave Hilary his enduring title, der
Athanasius des Abendlandes1 . In modern times, scholars have been unable to
resist the temptation to compare Hilary with his more famous (and infamous)
Alexandrian counterpart. This comparison, of course, is overblown; Athana
sius had no true counterpart in the West, and the scope of Hilary's career pales
in comparison. Nevertheless, Hilary's participation in the Trinitarian contro
versy does offer some intriguing similarities to Athanasius. Most importantly,
both Hilary and Athanasius achieved recognition as the leading opponents of
the prevailing Arian, or 'Homoian' movements in the West and East respec
tively. Athanasius' incendiary role in much of the Trinitarian controversy is
well attested. Hilary's part in the controversy has received somewhat less
attention, although he was long remembered in the West as the stalwart
defender of the Nicene faith. Despite these similarities, however, Hilary's own
appreciation for Athanasius undergoes a shift. Immediately following his
exile, Hilary defiantly identifies himself as a supporter of Athanasius. Later
on, however, he adopts the theological concerns of the homoiousian theologian
Basil of Ancyra, and his support for Athanasius fades away. In this paper,
then, I will show how Hilary moves from a deliberate pro-Athanasius position
to one that owed very little to the Alexandrian.
The early part of Hilary's career saw him explicitly defending Athanasius.
The first work of this period, the Liber adversus Valentem et Ursacium (356),
contained a number of pro-Athanasius sections, not the least of which was the
first known Latin translation of the Nicene Creed. This creed's appearance in
this document is unusual for a Latin theologian of Hilary's era. Prior to the
mid-350s, the creed was virtually unknown in the West. Hilary himself will
admit that he had not even heard of it before going into exile2. In the year
before Hilary's exile, however, Eusebius of Vercelli had presented it at the
Synod of Milan (355) as a way of disrupting the Synod's anti-Athanasian
agenda. Eusebius' action, along with Hilary's translation in 356, corresponds
to a growing insistence on Nicaea's priority by Athanasius himself during the
1 K. Hase, Kirchengeschichte, 2nd edition (Leipzig, 1836), 137.

2 De Synodis 91 (PL 10, 544).
412 M. Weedman
mid-350s3. And in fact, Hilary reminds his readers that Athanasius had origi
nally instigated this creed's publication and so had vanquished the Arian
plague in the whole of Egypt - even though, Hilary points out, witnesses had
brought false charges against him then, just as they are doing now4. For both
Hilary and Athanasius, then, Nicaea had become a potent weapon with which
to bludgeon their opponents, and its appearance in Hilary's text signals his
own intention to use it in this way.
If Hilary's use of the creed is new, however, his analysis of its theology is
rather antiquated. In the Liber, Hilary contrasts Nicaea with a no longer extant
'Arian' creed, which he uses as a counterfoil to Nicaea. He does not quote this
Arian creed, instead focusing on its exegesis of the Pauline doctrine that the
Son is 'first-born of all creation'. According to Hilary, the Arians take this
phrase to mean that there is a certain order to creation, in which the Son was
originally created out of nothing and the Father then created everything else.
By this theology, Christ is not eternal5. Hilary believes that the Nicene Creed
is specifically designed to avoid this heresy, especially by its use of
homousios. According to Hilary, the creed teaches that the Son has within
himself the truth of being. As such, both the Father and the Son subsist within
themselves, 'one and the same substance of eternity equal in both'6. If the Son
is homoousios with the Father, he is eternal and could never have come to
exist in time; 'the Son is eternal with the substance of eternity'7.
This theology that Hilary argues against in the Liber is closer to classical
Arianism than that of the contemporary 'homoianism' sponsored by Constan-
tius. The most noticeable clue to this is Hilary's continual insistence on the
eternal generation of the Son. Although eternal generation remained important
in later stages of the Trinitarian controversy, it dominated the early stages.
Indeed, much of Arius' theology was intended to deny that the Son was gen
erated eternally. Or, more accurately, Arius' theology was intended to preserve
the unknowability of God, which in turn entails that the Son must be a crea
ture, produced out of nothing by the will of God8. Arius' opponents, however
recognized the importance of eternal generation to this scheme, and many of
their characterizations of Arius' theology emphasize this aspect of it. Alexan
der of Alexandria, for example, summarizes Arius' beliefs by beginning with
Arius' denial of the eternal generation. According to Alexander, Arius teaches
3 Hanson notes that Athanasius first began to defend homoousios in his De Decretis, which
Hanson dates to 356. See R.P.C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God, The
Arian Controversy 318-381 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988), 438.
4 Collectanea Antiariana Parisina, Series B. II. 1 1.5 (CSEL 65, 153).
8 This is the conclusion of Rowan Williams, Arius: Heresy and Tradition, revised ed (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 105.
Not the Athanasius of the West 413
'that God was not always the Father, but there was a period when he was not the
Father; that the Word of God was not from eternity, but was made out of nothing; that
the ever existing God made him who did not previously exist out of nothing'9.
Refuting this last phrase especially became the foundation of anti-Arian
polemic10. Likewise, Athanasius will come to explain the Nicene Council's
decision to include homoousios in its creed as an attempt to affirm the Son's
eternal generation: '[TJherefore the Council ... suitably wrote homoousios,
that they might both defeat the perverseness of the heretics, and show that the
Word was other than created things'11.
By contrast, the homoian controversy did not emphasize 'eternal generation'
to such a degree. The early homoian creed of 357, in fact, prohibits any discus
sion of the Son's generation, and no homoian will ever teach that 'there was
when he was not'12. What the homoians were concerned with was not so much
the unknowability of God, but the impassibility of God. As a result, they
emphasized that the Son was created by the will of the Father, thereby separat
ing the Son from the substance of the Father. There is no hint of this doctrine in
any of Hilary's comments in the Liber adversus Valentem et Ursacium. At this
stage in the controversy, Hilary is still caught up in defending Athanasius, so
that he cannot see beyond the specifics of Athanasius' polemical agenda.
All of this changes two years later when Hilary composed a second collec
tion of controversial documents known as De Synodis. I say 'composed'
deliberately, because unlike the earlier collection, De Synodis is less a histor
ical dossier than a polished treatise of polemical theology13. It was written at
a crucial point in Hilary's growing encounter with his homoian opponents,
immediately after the publication of the letter composed by the Synod of Sir-
mium in 357 14. This document elicited intense reaction across the empire, no
less from Hilary, who gave it the enduring appellation of 'The Blasphemy'.
Like the first dossier, Hilary uses this record of the councils to demonstrate
that the theology of his opponents is indeed blasphemous and foreign to the
faith that the Western church has always clung to. Unlike the first dossier,
Hilary now believes that a different solution is in order. De Synodis contains
9 Sozomen, Historia Ecclesiastica I.6.7-8; ed. J. Bidez, SC series 306 (Paris: Editions du
Cerf, 1983), 133; English translation by CD. Harttranft in NPNF II, 2, 4. Also see Hanson, 16.
For this emphasis in Athanasius, see Contra Arianos I. 17-18.
10 R.P.C. Hanson, 'Who Taught e^ ouk ovxcov?', in Arianism: Historical and Theological
Assessments, ed. Robert C. Gregg (Cambridge, MA: Philadelphia Patristic Foundation, 1985),
79-84.
11 De Decretis 20 (PG 25, 449); English translation by J.H. Newman in NPNF series II, 4,
164.
12 Hanson, 564.
13 The polemical character of De Synodis is noted by Michel Meslin, 'Hilaire et la crise ari-
enne', in Hilaire et son Temps, ed. E.R. Labande (Paris: Etudes Augustinienne, 1969), 19-42.
14 For the dating of De Synodis, see Meslin, 28.
414 M. Weedman
no mention of Athanasius, recommending instead a completely different

political and theological perspective - that of the homoiousian party, led by
Basil of Ancyra.
The first clue to Hilary's shifting allegiance is the creeds he chooses to
quote and comment on, all of which reflect his new association with the
homoiousians. Hilary begins De Synodis by quoting the Blasphemy in full.
Then he reproduces the texts of three eastern creeds: the 'Dedication Creed' of
Antioch 341, the Eastern Creed of Serdica 343, and the anti-Photinian creed of
Sirmium 351. The choice of these latter three creeds is significant, because
they were all named in a Synodical Letter issued by Basil of Ancyra in
response to the original publication of the Blasphemy. Basil's letter included a
summation of his own doctrine of God, a series of anathemas condemning the
homoian doctrines (with a few jabs at various forms of modalism), and that list
of four creeds that he regarded as authoritative and representative of the
catholic faith15. Hilary does not reproduce this letter, but he does reproduce its
anathemas, and he knows the theologian who issued it. Hilary has clearly
adopted Basil's belief in the blasphemous nature of the Sirmium 357 docu
ment, and also his sense of the creedal authorities necessary to deal with the
new homoian threat.
Hilary also adopts the homoiousian theological strategy, and throughout De
Synodis he appropriates terminology and theology from Basil. This approach
becomes most apparent when, in the second part of De Synodis, Hilary once
again quotes the Nicene Creed. Hilary cites the creed as the climax of an
attempt to reconcile his version of Basil's catchword, homoiousios, with the
Nicene Creed's use of homoousios. After dealing with a series of homoiousian
objections to homoousios, Hilary then asks precisely what the Fathers at
Nicaea meant by the term16. Contrary to Basil's fears, Hilary asserts that
homoousios was never intended to be read from a modalist perspective. He
then quotes the Nicene creed and highlights a couple of features that prove his
point. Most notably, Hilary claims that the purpose of homoousios is to teach
that the Son is born from the substance of the Father. 'Is not the meaning here
of the word homoousion\ Hilary asks, 'that the Son is produced of the
Father's nature, the essence of the Son having no other origin, and that both,
therefore, have one unvarying essence?'17
In other words, Hilary now believes that homoousios safeguards against
those who deny not so much the Son's eternal generation, but his common
substance with the Father. This is different from Hilary's interpretation of
homoousios in the Liber adversus Valentem et Ursacium, where he asserted
15 Epiphanius, Panarion 73.2.2; ed. K. Holl, GCS 37, rev. J. Dummer (Berlin: Akademie-
Verlag, 1985), 269.
16 See De Synodis 80-83. The Homoiousians had apparently submitted these objections in a
letter to the Council of Sirmium in 357.
17 De Synodis 84 (PL 10, 536); English translation by W. Sanday in NPNF series II, 9, 26.
Not the Athanasius of the West 415
that 'eternal generation' was its main point, and it reflects two concerns raised
by Hilary's association with the homoiousians. The first is the prohibition on
substance language in the Blasphemy of 357. Basil of Ancyra's insistence on
'like according to substance' was a direct attack on that prohibition, and
Hilary's affirmation of homoousios here must be seen in the same light. Sec
ond, in his treatment of the Nicene Creed in De Synodis, Hilary makes a point
of connecting the creed's use of homoousios with its confession that the Son
was 'born not made'. For Hilary this connection is important, for just as the
Son being 'born' of the Father proves his divinity (and diversity), homoousios
proves that the Son is born of the Father's substance. We have two ways of
saying the same thing. This connection is also important because emphasis on
the Son's birth is characteristic of Basil's theology. For Basil, the 'birth' of the
Son, along with the biblical names Father and Son, demonstrates that the rela
tionship between the Father and Son is one of substance. We know from
human conception that every father is father of an essence like his own.
Against the homoian prohibition on 'substance' language, Basil argues that the
names 'Father' and 'Son' force us to use this language18. Accordingly, when
Hilary attempts to show that homoousios corresponds to the Son's birth, he is
trying to interpret Nicene theology in light of these homoiousian concerns19.
Hilary does defend the eternal birth in De Synodis, asserting that the like
ness of essence between the Father and Son is a likeness in time. That is, there
cannot be any time when the Father was not the Father, just as there cannot be
any time when the Son was not the Son. The true meaning of either name can
not exist without the other20. Much has been made of this doctrine in Hilary's
later work, especially by Pierre Smulders, who sees it as one area in which
Hilary's thought developed21. What is also significant, however, is that what
was central in the Liber adversus Valentem et Ursacium, eternal generation,
here recedes into the background. And when it does surface, it is coloured by
the homoiousian doctrines of name and birth.
One final sign that Hilary's polemical loyalties have changed is that De Syn
odis contains no mention of either Athanasius or anything having to do with
Athanasius22. This is a clear departure from his strategy in the Liber adversus
Valentem et Ursacium, where an offensive against the homoians meant
defending Athanasius. The differences between the texts he includes in the
Liber and the ones he includes here can be explained precisely in this way:
Hilary has thrown his lot in with Basil and his party.
18 Epiphanius, Panarion 73.4.2; Holl, 272.

19 Athanasius also changed slightly. See his De Synodis 41-43; see also Hanson, 441.
20 De Synodis 25 (PL 10, 499).
21 P. Smulders, La doctrine trinitaire de S. Hilaire de Poitiers (Rome: Universitatis Gregori-
anae, 1944): 172-78.
22 Meslin, 28, remarks on the strategy, and suggests that given the prominence of the Serdi-
can creed, in which Athanasius played a key role, Hilary would have had opportunity to defend
the Alexandrian bishop.
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This is a reproduction of a library book that was digitized

by Google as part of an ongoing effort to preserve the

Papers presented at the Fourteenth International Conference

Other Greek Writers

Index Auctorum and Table of Contents of Vols. XXXIX-XLIII in Vol. XLIII

© Peeters Publishers — Louvain — Belgium 2006

Printed in Belgium by Peeters, Leuven

Papers presented at the Fourteenth International Conference

Other Greek Writers

Index Auctorum and Table of Contents of Vols. XXXIX-XLIII in Vol. XLIII

XIII. OTHER GREEK WRITERS

Pauline Allen, Brisbane

Jan Willem Drijvers, Groningen

James L. Siebach, Provo, Utah

XIV. JOHN OF DAMASCUS AND BEYOND

Julia Konstanttnovsky, Oxford

XV. THE WEST TO HILARY

Ian L.S. Balfour, Edinburgh

AA.SS see ASS.

BHO Bibliotheca Hagiographica Orientalis, Brussels.

DACL see DAL

HbNT Handbuch zum Neuen Testament. Tubingen.

ML Mediaevalia Lovaniensia, Louvain.

REA(ug) Revue des etudes Augustiniennes, Paris.

SVF Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, ed. J. von Arnim, Leipzig.

Pauline Allen, Brisbane

It is my aim in this paper to make a contribution to the somewhat vewed and

Theodoret I quote Theresa Urbainczyk: 'Theodoret often provokes strong

has come down to us in conciliar documents concerning the Council of Eph-

25 See further ibid., pp. 26-7.

twenty-eight manuscripts. In only twenty-six of these do we find any indica

tical, canonical, and disciplinary minutiae contained in many of his letters

clausula. He favours paronomasia as a device, and uses stock metaphors and

46 See Wagner, A Chapter in Byzantine Epistolography, p. 181.

52 SL I.30; tr. Brooks, pp. 92-3.

John, count of Antaradus in Phoenicia Maritima64, and in another he com

belonging to this monastery, a certain Nonnus, even before embracing the

82 Letter 81: Azema, vol. 2, p. 196-8.

rationale, or lack thereof, in the compiling of the letter-collections. All we

97 SLVIII.5: Brooks, p. 415.

118 'The Classical Tradition', p. 86.

Rosemary A. Arthur, Wakefield

ered in gold or wrapped in fire or standing on a horse, bow in hand8. The

We know from Porphyry14 that there are three levels of angels:

8 Des Places p. 102; Taylor, p. 45.

in angelology is a Syrian, rather than a Greek, trait. Porphyry's Syrian back

19 J. Bidez, Vie de Porphyre (Ghent, 1913; repr. Hildesheim, 1964), p. 15.

Teletarchs (masters of initiation) have a purificatory role. Although Dionysius

Antonia Atanassova, Boston

1. The Theoretical Construction

a. Naming Mary Theotokos

3 In Is. 1:4, tr. Russel, 78.

8 Letter to the Monks 4, tr. McGuckin, 247.

b. Motherhood and Incarnation

designating her the mother of the Godhead. In this he relies on Athanasius'

33 Third Letter to Nestorius 11, tr. McGuckin, 273.

it a movement, circumscription, and passage in time44. While Nestorius argued

c. Addressing Imperial Women

44 Comm. on Luke, tr. Payne Smith, 14.

60 Ibid., 157, 162.

69 Pulcheria is the sister of Theodosius n, and Eudokia is his wife.

2. Mary in a Liturgical Context

a. Cyril's Homilies on Luke