In the east, the historical turn in the conduct of theological debate was almost complete when Cyril and Nestorius engaged in fresh controversy from around
AD 429. Before we analyze its efficacy in the ensuing conflicts, it is worth noting that a parallel development, in my view unconnected, took place in the west around the same time (Maschio 1986; Rebillard 2000). First of all, the Donatist controversy was, certainly by the time Augustine began to engage in it, ever more concerned with the evaluation of past events and documents. To a great extent, this concern with the past was inherent in the subject matter: clarifying the origins of the schism was essential to any resolution of the conflict. At the same time, there were wider implications concerning the right of either side to claim the intellectual tradition of past authors, in particular Cyprian, and to muster their memory as a way of expressing an authentic North African Christian identity.
Similarly, Augustine’s anti-Pelagian writings had to fend off appeals to the intellectual heritage of revered figures like Ambrose of Milan. Their particular pertinence arose from biographical overtones: the argument challenged Augustine with a view of his own past and tried to undermine his current self-image and presentation of doctrinal orthodoxy. In each case, presuppositions about emblematic figures of the past seem to be operative, similar to those we have sketched in the east. What makes them distinct, in my view, is that the historical or biographical problems underlying the issues debated were more real than imagined.
That was not the case in the conflict between Cyril and Nestorius. Cyril presented himself as the descendant of Athanasius, not primarily as one occupying the episcopal throne in Alexandria, but foremost as the principle guardian of orthodoxy. As well as arguing from the Nicene Creed, as we have seen, he bolstered his position by citations from Athanasius (Cyril, Ep. 1. 4). What is more, in attacking Nestorius, he resorted to a strategy that proved highly effective. He set out to promote his own orthodoxy as a humble follower in the footsteps of the Fathers and denounced Nestorius’ heresy in turn as that of an arrogant critic of such Fathers and a detractor of tradition in general (Cyril, Ep. 11, 14; see also Conc. Ephes. Gesta, 60, no. 25, ACO 1. 1. 2, pp. 52-3). Less than a generation later, this polemical strategy had turned into historic knowledge for the church historian Socrates. He saw most of Nestorius’ errors as the result of a distinct lack of familiarity with the writings of the Fathers (Socrates, Hist. eccl.
7. 32. 10). As guardian not only of proper Nicene teaching but also of the due respect for the Fathers in principle, Cyril was able to rally support from many quarters, not least from the monastic communities. The idea of the Fathers resonated with their experience of the ascetic struggle, usually begun under the close tutelage of a senior figure, which commended the virtues of humility and obedience. The implications of his self-styled image as another Athanasius, who had cultivated a close association with the great figures of the monastic tradition, were not lost on them. Waging a publicist war on Nestorius, Cyril appended extracts from such Fathers to his treatises (Cyril, Arcad. 10-19; Apol. Orient.), and such a compilation, virtually identical with his previous collections, features prominently in the Acts of the Council of Ephesus (Conc. Ephes. Gesta, 54, ACO 1. 1. 2, pp. 39-45), where he managed to have Nestorius condemned.
These Acts finally answered the question of how to conduct conciliar theology properly, and identified the norms according to which one might arrive at a doctrinal decision. If my reconstruction is correct (Graumann 2002: 385-93; see De Halleux 1993), they do not present us with a straightforward record, but are an elaborate piece of composition and redaction, produced by Cyril’s chancery and distributed by his publicist machinery to great effect. This edited version of events presents an account of the meeting deposing Nestorius, held on June 22, ad 431, in which the testimony of the Fathers is awkwardly placed. The excerpts are introduced at a time when the decision-making process had, strictly speaking, already reached its goal. If we accept the presentation of the edited acts as an accurate representation of the sequence of events, the quotations, at this stage, could neither function any more as norms against which to judge Nestorius, nor help to establish a positive sense of traditional teaching. If they had a place in the proceedings and not merely in the published acts, their purpose remains shrouded. Their introduction by a team of redactors drawing up the documents seems to me more likely. The probable intentions of such an editorial addition become apparent when these acts are compared to those of a second meeting, held on July 22, ad 431, four weeks after the initial deposition of Nestorius. It is evident, here, that the acts are careful and deliberate compositions rather than transcriptions of proceedings, and the intentions and principles of organization are much clearer: the acts are composed to portray a prototype of theological procedure and decision-making in a synodal context. Much of the material used is identical to that of the earlier assembly, and in fact copied straight from it. What is new are the arrangement and the insertion of clarifying remarks about the purpose in particular of the appeal to the Fathers. The proceedings open this time, therefore, with a reading of the Nicene Creed, formally declared to be the norm of orthodoxy, and go on to emphasize the need to adhere to its meaning as much as its wording. Excerpts of the Fathers are then presented as authoritative guides precisely to the proper understanding of the creed. Only then is the inquiry made into the case at hand (Conc. Ephes. Coll. Ath. 73-6, ACO 1. 1. 7, pp. 88-96). This careful composition in a way addressed the questions left unanswered by the perhaps rather more perfunctory editorial process of the acts of the earlier meeting. Now the role of Fathers in doctrinal decision-making and its relation in particular to creedal definition, is outlined precisely and explicitly.
With this composition and the accompanying explanation of the proceedings, the compilers have arrived at a state of hermeneutic awareness. Their rationale has dominated the perception of an argument from the Fathers ever since. Its immediate consequences were visible in the Council of Chalcedon twenty years later. The council also testifies to the paradigmatic status Ephesus had achieved as a model council. In a similar fashion, the Council of Chalcedon produced a carefully composed, even more elaborate, document of its decision and the authorities on which it was based. It opens with the solemn endorsement of the Councils of Nicaea, Constantinople, and Ephesus, pointing to documents of the latter in particular. It then goes on to recite the Nicene and Constantinopolitan Creeds. After a repeated confirmation of the tradition of the Fathers represented in those creeds, and the acceptance of, in addition, a number of specified documents by Cyril and Pope Leo, it sets out its own formula as no more than an interpretive supplement to them: ‘‘following the holy Fathers.’’ The formula concludes, yet again, with the assertion that its teaching was ‘‘handed down’’ through the ‘‘Symbol [i. e., the creed] of the Fathers,’’ as well as by the Prophets and Jesus himself (Conc. Chalc. Actio, 5. 30-4; see also Actio, 6. 8, ACO 2. 1. 2, pp. 126-30, 141). Only this repeated appeal to Fathers enabled them to overcome the deep unease of many participants at the time against drawing up a new formula of faith. It is also the purest expression of a commonly held sense of the continuity and ultimate consistency in the Church’s teaching, represented not least in the writings of eminent churchmen. Theological discourse could, legitimately at least, no longer operate outside a framework of deliberately resorting to the tradition of Fathers. Yet, despite such cautious and advised recourse to the tradition of councils and Fathers, the council’s own validity and authority remained disputed for centuries. Much of the fight for and against its teaching took the form of ever growing compilations of florilegia of the Fathers, and of pondering over the acts and documents of previous debates. The rehearsing of those texts and of the Fathers in general became a predominant form of theological pursuit and inquiry. In the Byzantine Middle Ages, theology, albeit primarily still denoting the ongoing process of reflection on God, could at least for one author (Johannes Kyparissiotes) also mean the sum total of Scripture, the councils, and the Fathers (Podskalsky 1977: 30-1).
World History
