Following the Fathers...
"Following THE HOLY FATHERS" ... It
was usual in the Ancient Church to introduce doctrinal statements by phrases
like this. The Decree of Chalcedon opens precisely with these very words. The
Seventh Ecumenical Council introduces its decision concerning the Holy Icons in
a more elaborate way: "Following the Divinely inspired teaching of
the Holy Fathers and the Tradition of the Catholic Church." The didaskalia of
the Fathers is the formal and normative term of reference.
Now, this was much more than just an "appeal to antiquity." Indeed, the Church always stresses the permanence of her faith through the ages, from the very beginning. This identity, since the Apostolic times, is the most conspicuous sign and token of right faith-always the same. Yet, "antiquity" by itself is not an adequate proof of the true faith. Moreover, the Christian message was obviously a striking novelty" for the "ancient world," and, indeed, a call to radical "renovation."
The "Old" has passed away, and everything has been "made New." On the other hand, heresies could also appeal to the past and invoke the authority of certain "traditions." In fact, heresies were often lingering in the past. [1] Archaic formulas can often be dangerously misleading. Vincent of Lérins himself was fully aware of this danger. It would suffice to quote this pathetic passage of his: "And now, what an amazing reversal of the situation I the authors of the same opinion are adjudged to be catholics, but the followers-heretics; the masters are absolved, the disciples are condemned; the writers of the books will be children of the Kingdom, their followers will go to Gehenna" (Commonitorium, cap. 6). Vincent had in mind, of course, St. Cyprian and the Donatists. St. Cyprian himself faced the same situation. "Antiquity" as such may happen to be Just an inveterate prejudice: nam antiquitas sine veritate vetustas erroris est (Epist. 74). It is to say—"old customs" as such do not guarantee the truth. "Truth" is not just a "habit."The true tradition is only the tradition of
truth, traditio veritatis. This tradition, according of St.
Irenaeus, is grounded in, and secured by, that charisma veritatis
certum [secure charisma of truth], which has been
"deposited" in the Church from the very beginning and has been
preserved by the uninterrupted succession of episcopal ministry.
"Tradition" in the Church is not a continuity of human memory, or a
permanence of rites and habits. It is a living tradition—depositum juvenescens, in
the phrase of St. Irenaeus. Accordingly, it cannot be counted inter
mortuas regulas [among dead rules]. Ultimately, tradition is a
continuity of the abiding presence of the Holy Spirit in the Church, a
continuity of Divine guidance and illumination. The Church is not bound by the
"letter." Rather, she is constantly moved forth by the
"Spirit." The same Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, which "spake
through the Prophets," which guided the Apostles, is still continuously
guiding the Church into the fuller comprehension and understanding of the
Divine truth, from glory to glory.
"Following the Holy Fathers"… This
is not a reference to some abstract tradition, in formulas and propositions. It
is primarily an appeal to holy witnesses. Indeed, we appeal to the Apostles,
and not just to an abstract "Apostolicity." In the similar manner do
we refer to the Fathers. The witness of the Fathers belongs, intrinsically and
integrally, to the very structure of Orthodox belief. The Church is equally
committed to the kerygma of the Apostles and to the dogma of
the Fathers. We may quote at this point an admirable ancient hymn (probably,
from the pen of St. Romanus the Melode). "Preserving the kerygma of
the Apostles and the dogmas of the Fathers, the Church has sealed the one faith
and wearing the tunic of truth she shapes rightly the brocade of heavenly
theology and praises the great mystery of piety." [2]
The Mind of the Fathers
The Church is "Apostolic" indeed. But
the Church is also "Patristic." She is intrinsically "the Church
of the Fathers." These two "notes" cannot be separated. Only by
being "Patristic" is the Church truly "Apostolic." The
witness of the Fathers is much more than simply a historic feature, a voice
from the past. Let us quote another hymn from the office of the Three
Hierarchs. "By the word of knowledge you have composed the dogmas which
the fisher men have established first in simple words, in knowledge by the
power of the Spirit, for thus our simple piety had to acquire
composition." There are, as it were, two basic stages in the proclamation
of the Christian faith. "Our simple faith had to acquire
composition." There was an inner urge, an inner logic, an internal
necessity, in this transition from kerygma to dogma. Indeed,
the teaching of the Fathers, and the dogma of the Church, are still the same
"simple message" which has been once delivered and deposited, once
for ever, by the Apostles. But now it is, as it were, properly and fully
articulated. The Apostolic preaching is kept alive in the Church, not only
merely preserved. In this sense, the teaching of the Fathers is a permanent
category of Christian existence, a constant and ultimate measure and criterion
of right faith. Fathers are not only witnesses of the old faith, testes
antiquitatis. They are rather witnesses of the true faith, testes
veritatis. "The mind of the Fathers" is an intrinsic term of
reference in Orthodox theology, no less than the word of Holy Scripture, and
indeed never separated from it. As it has been well said, "the Catholic
Church of all ages is not merely a daughter of the Church of the Fathers—she
is and remains the Church of the Fathers." [3]
The Existential Character of Patristic Theology
The main distinctive mark of Patristic theology
was its existential" character, if we may use this current neologism. The
Fathers theologized, as St. Gregory of Nazianzus put it, "in the manner of
the Apostles, not in that of Aristotle—alieutikos, ouk
aristotelikos (Hom. 23. 12). Their theology was still a
"message," a kerygma. Their theology was still
"kerygmatic theology," even if it was often logically arranged and
supplied with intellectual arguments. The ultimate reference was still to the
vision of faith, to spiritual knowledge and experience. Apart from life in
Christ theology carries no conviction and, if separated from the life of faith,
theology may degenerate into empty dialectics, a vain polylogia, without
any spiritual consequence. Patristic theology was existentially rooted in the
decisive commitment of faith. It was not a self-explanatory
"discipline" which could be presented argumentatively, that is aristotelikos,
without any prior spiritual engagement. In the age of theological strife and
incessant debates, the great Cappadocian Fathers formally protested against the
use of dialectics, of "Aristotelian syllogisms," and endeavoured to
refer theology back to the vision of faith. Patristic theology could be only
preached" or "proclaimed"—preached from the pulpit, proclaimed
also in the words of prayer and in the sacred rites, and indeed manifested in
the total structure of Christian life. Theology of this kind can never be
separated from the life of prayer and from the exercise of virtue. "The
climax of purity is the beginning of theology," as St. John the Klimakos
puts it: Telos de hagneias hypotheosis theologias (Scala
Paradisi, grade 30).
On the other hand, theology of this type is
always, as it were, "propaideutic," since its ultimate aim and
purpose is to ascertain and to acknowledge the Mystery of the Living God, and
indeed to bear witness to it, in word and deed. "Theology" is not an
end in itself. It is always but a way. Theology, and even the "dogmas,"
present no more than an "intellectual contour" of the revealed truth,
and a "noetic" testimony to it. Only in the act of faith is this
"contour" filled with content. Christological formulas are fully
meaningful only for those who have encountered the Living Christ, and have
received and acknowledged Him as God and Saviour, and are dwelling by faith in
Him, in His body, the Church. In this sense, theology is never a
self-explanatory discipline. It is constantly appealing to the vision
of faith. "What we have seen and have heard we announce to
you." Apart from this "announcement" theological formulas are
empty and of no consequence. For the same reason these formulas can never be
taken "abstractly," that is, out of total context of belief. It is
misleading to single out particular statements of the Fathers and to detach
them from the total perspective in which they have been actually uttered, just
as it is misleading to manipulate with detached quotations from the Scripture.
It is a dangerous habit "to quote" the Fathers, that
is, their isolated sayings and phrases, outside of that concrete setting in
which only they have their full and proper meaning and are truly alive. "To
follow" the Fathers does not mean just "to
quote" them. "To follow" the Fathers means to acquire
their "mind," their phronema.
The Meaning of the "Age" of the
Fathers
Now, we have reached the crucial point. The
name of "Church Fathers" is usually restricted to the
teachers of the Ancient Church. And it is currently assumed that their
authority depends upon their "antiquity," upon their comparative
nearness to the "Primitive Church," to the initial "Age" of
the Church. Already St. Jerome had to contest this idea. Indeed, there was no
decrease of "authority," and no decrease in the immediacy of
spiritual competence and knowledge, in the course of Christian history. In
fact, however, this idea of "decrease" has strongly affected our
modern theological thinking. In fact, it is too often assumed, consciously or
unconsciously, that the Early Church was, as it were, closer to the spring of
truth. As an admission of our own failure and inadequacy, as an act of humble
self-criticism, such an assumption is sound and helpful. But it is
dangerous to make of it the starting point or basis of our "theology of
Church history," or even of our theology of the Church. Indeed,
the Age of the Apostles should retain its unique position. Yet, it was just a
beginning. It is widely assumed that the "Age of the Fathers" has
also ended, and accordingly it is regarded just as an ancient formation,
"antiquated" in a sense and "archaic." The limit of the
"Patristic Age" is variously defined. It is usual to regard St. John
of Damascus as the "last Father" in the East, and St. Gregory the
Dialogos or Isidore of Seville as "the last" in the West. This
periodization has been justly contested in recent times. Should not, for
instance, St. Theodore of Studium, at least, be included among "the
Fathers"? Mabillon has suggested that Bernard of Clairvaux, the Doctor
mellifluous, was "the last of the Fathers, and surely not unequal to the
earlier ones." [4] Actually, it is more than a question of
periodization. From the Western point of view "the Age of the
Fathers" has been succeeded, and indeed superseded, by "the Age of
the Schoolmen," which was an essential step forward. Since the
rise of Scholasticism "Patristic theology" has been antiquated, has
become actually a "past age," a kind of archaic prelude. This point
of view, legitimate for the West, has been, most unfortunately, accepted also
by many in the East, blindly and uncritically. Accordingly, one has to face the
alternative. Either one has to regret the
"backwardness" of the East which never developed any
"Scholasticism" of its own. Or one should retire
into the "Ancient Age," in a more or less archeological manner, and
practice what has been wittily described recently as a "theology of
repetition." The latter, in fact, is just a peculiar form of imitative
"scholasticism."
Now, it is not seldom suggested that, probably,
"the Age of the Fathers" has ended much earlier than St. John of
Damascus. Very often one does not proceed further than the Age of Justinian, or
even already the Council of Chalcedon. Was not Leontius of Byzantium already
"the first of the Scholastics"? Psychologically, this attitude is
quite comprehensible, although it cannot be theologically justified. Indeed,
the Fathers of the Fourth century are much more impressive, and their unique
greatness cannot be denied. Yet, the Church remained fully alive also after
Nicea and Chalcedon. The current overemphasis on the "first five
centuries" dangerously distorts theological vision, and prevents the right
understanding of the Chalcedonian dogma itself. The decree of the Sixth
Ecumenical Council is often regarded as a kind of an "appendix" to
Chalcedon, interesting only for theological specialists, and the great figure
of St. Maximus the Confessor is almost completely ignored. Accordingly, the
theological significance of the Seventh Ecumenical Council is dangerously
obscured, and one is left to wonder, why the Feast of Orthodoxy should be
related to the commemoration of the Church's victory over the Iconoclasts. Was
it not just a "ritualistic controversy"? We often forget that the
famous formula of the Consensus quinquesaecularis [agreement
of five centuries], that is, actually, up to Chalcedon, was a Protestant
formula, and reflected a peculiar Protestant "theology of history."
It was a restrictive formula, as much as it seemed to be too
inclusive to those who wanted to be secluded in the Apostolic Age. The point
is, however, that the current Eastern formula of "the Seven Ecumenical
Councils" is hardly much better, if it tends, as it usually does, to
restrict or to limit the Church's spiritual authority to the first
eight centuries, as if "the Golden Age" of Christianity has already
passed and we are now, probably, already in an Iron Age, much lower on the
scale of spiritual vigour and authority. Our theological thinking has been
dangerously affected by the pattern of decay, adopted for the
interpretation of Christian history in the West since the Reformation. The
fullness of the Church was then interpreted in a static manner, and the
attitude to Antiquity has been accordingly distorted and misconstrued. After
all, it does not make much difference, whether we restrict the
normative authority of the Church to one century, or to five, or to
eight. There should he no restriction at all. Consequently,
there is no room for any "theology of repetition." The Church is
still fully authoritative as she has been in the ages past, since the Spirit of
Truth quickens her now no less effectively as in the ancient times.
The Legacy of Byzantine Theology
One of the immediate results of our careless
periodization is that we simply ignore the legacy of Byzantine
theology. We are prepared, now more than only a few decades ago, to
admit the perennial authority of "the Fathers," especially since the
revival of Patristic studies in the West. But we still tend to limit the scope
of admission, and obviously "Byzantine theologians" are not readily
counted among the "Fathers." We are inclined to discriminate rather
rigidly between "Patristics"—in a more or less narrow sense—and
"Byzantinism." We are still inclined to regard "Byzantinism"
as an inferior sequel to the Patristic Age. We have still doubts about its
normative relevance for theological thinking. Now, Byzantine theology was much
more than just a "repetition" of Patristic theology, nor was that
which was new in it of an inferior quality in comparison with "Christian
Antiquity." Indeed, Byzantine theology was an organic continuation
of the Patristic Age. Was there any break? Has the ethos of
the Eastern Orthodox Church been ever changed, at a certain historic point or
date, which, however, has never been unanimously identified, so that the
"later" development was of lesser authority and importance, if of
any? This admission seems to be silently implied in the restrictive commitment
to the Seven Ecumenical Councils. Then, St. Symeon the New
Theologian and St. Gregory Palamas are simply left out, and the great Hesychast
Councils of the fourteenth century are ignored and forgotten. What is their
position and authority in the Church?
Now, in fact, St. Symeon and St. Gregory are
still authoritative masters and inspirers of all those who, in the Orthodox
Church, are striving after perfection, and are living the life of prayer and
contemplation, whether in the surviving monastic communities, or in the
solitude of the desert, and even in the world. These faithful people are not
aware of any alleged "break" between "Patristics" and
"Byzantinism." The Philokalia, this great
encyclopaedia of Eastern piety, which includes writings of many centuries, is,
in our own days, increasingly becoming the manual of guidance and instruction
for all those who are eager to practice Orthodoxy in our
contemporary situation. The authority of its compiler, St. Nicodemus of the
Holy Mount, has been recently recognized and enhanced by his formal
canonization in the Church. In this sense, we are bound to say, "the Age
of the Fathers" still continues in "the Worshipping Church."
Should it not continue also in our theological pursuit and study, research and
instruction? Should we not recover "the mind of the Fathers" also in
our theological thinking and teaching? To recover it, indeed, not as an archaic
manner or pose, and not just as a venerable relic, but as an
existential attitude, as a spiritual orientation. Only
in this way can our theology be reintegrated into the fullness of our Christian
existence. It is not enough to keep a "Byzantine Liturgy," as we do,
to restore Byzantine iconography and Byzantine music, as we are still reluctant
to do consistently, and to practice certain Byzantine modes of devotion. One
has to go to the very roots of this traditional "piety," and to
recover the "Patristic mind . Otherwise we may be in danger of being
inwardly split—as many in our midst actually are—between the "traditional"
forms of "piety" and a very untraditional habit of theological
thinking. It is a real danger. As "worshippers" we are still in
"the tradition of the Fathers." Should we not stand, conscientiously
and avowedly, in the same tradition also as "theologians," as
witnesses and teachers of Orthodoxy? Can we retain our integrity in any other
way?
St. Gregory Palamas and Theosis
All these preliminary considerations are highly
relevant for our immediate purpose. What is the theological legacy of St.
Gregory Palamas? St. Gregory was not a speculative theologian. He was a monk
and a bishop. He was not concerned about abstract problems of philosophy,
although he was well trained in this field too. He was concerned solely with
problems of Christian existence. As a theologian, he was simply an interpreter
of the spiritual experience of the Church. Almost all his writings, except
probably his homilies, were occasional writings. He was wrestling with the
problems of his own time. And it was a critical time, an age of controversy and
anxiety. Indeed, it was also an age of spiritual renewal.
St. Gregory was suspected of subversive
innovations by his enemies in his own time. This charge is still maintained
against him in the West. In fact, however, St. Gregory was deeply rooted in
tradition. It is not difficult to trace most of his views and motives back to
the Cappadocian Fathers and to St. Maximus the Confessor, who was, by the way,
one of the most popular masters of Byzantine thought and devotion. Indeed, St.
Gregory was also intimately acquainted with the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius.
He was rooted in the tradition. Yet, in no sense was his theology just
a "theology of repetition." It was a creative extension of ancient
tradition. Its starting point was Life in Christ.
Of all themes of St. Gregory's theology let us
single out but one, the crucial one, and the most controversial. What is the
basic character of Christian existence? The ultimate aim and purpose of human
life was defined in the Patristic tradition as theosis [divinization].
The term is rather offensive for the modern ear. It cannot be adequately
rendered in any modern language, nor even in Latin. Even in Greek it is rather
heavy and pretentious. Indeed, it is a daring word. The meaning of the word is,
however, simple and lucid. It was one of the crucial terms in the Patristic
vocabulary. It would suffice to quote at this point but St. Athanasius. Gegonen
gar anthropos, hin hemas en heauto theopoiese. [He became man in order
to divinize us in Himself (Ad Adelphium 4)]. Autos gar
enenthropesen, hina hemeis theopoiethomen. [He became man in order
that we might be divinized (De Incarnatione 54)]. St. Athanasius
actually resumes here the favourite idea of St. Irenaeus: qui propter
immensam dilectionem suam factus est quod sumus nos, uti nos perficeret esse
quod est ipse. [Who, through his immense love became what we are, that
He might bring us to be even what He is Himself (Adv. Haeres. V,
Praefatio)]. It was the common conviction of the Greek Fathers. One can quote at
length St. Gregory of Nazianzus. St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Cyril of Alexandria,
St. Maximus, and indeed St. Symeon the New Theologian. Man ever remains what he
is, that is, creature. But he is promised and granted, in Christ Jesus, the
Word become man, an intimate sharing in what is Divine: Life Everlasting and
incorruptible. The main characteristic of theosis is,
according to the Fathers, precisely "immortality" or
"incorruption." For God alone "has immortality"—ho monos
echon athanasian (I Tim. 6:16). But man now is admitted into an
intimate "communion" with God, through Christ and by the power of the
Holy Spirit. And this is much more than just a 'moral" communion, and much
more than just a human perfection. Only the word theosis can
render adequately the uniqueness of the promise and offer. The term
theosis is indeed quite embarrassing, if we would think in
"ontological" categories. Indeed, man simply cannot
"become" god. But the Fathers were thinking in "personal"
terms, and the mystery of personal communion was involved at
this point. Theosis meant a personal encounter. It is that
intimate intercourse of man with God, in which the whole of human existence is,
as it were, permeated by the Divine Presence. [5]
Yet, the problem remains: How can even this intercourse
be compatible with the Divine Transcendance? And this is the crucial point.
Does man really encounter God, in this present life on earth? Does man
encounter God, truly and verily, in his present life of prayer? Or, is there no
more than an actio in distans? The common claim of the
Eastern Fathers was that in his devotional ascent man actually encounters God
and beholds His eternal Glory. Now, how is it possible, if God "abides in
the light unapproachable"? The paradox was especially sharp in the Eastern
theology, which has been always committed to the belief that God was absolutely
"incomprehensible"—akataleptos—and unknowable in His nature or
essence. This conviction was powerfully expressed by the Cappadocian Fathers,
especially in their struggle against Eunomius, and also by St. John Chrysostom,
in his magnificent discourses Peri Akataleptou. Thus, if
God is absolutely "unapproachable" in His essence, and accordingly
His essence simply cannot be "communicated," how can theosis be
possible at all? "One insults God who seeks to apprehend His
essential being," says Chrysostom. Already in St. Athanasius we find a
clear distinction between God's very "essence" and His powers and
bounty: Kai en pasi men esti kata ten heautou agathoteta, exo de ton
panton palin esti kata ten idian physin. [He is in everything by his love,
but outside of everything by his own nature (De Decretis II)]. The
same conception was carefully elaborated by the Cappadocians. The "essence
of God" is absolutely inaccessible to man, says St. Basil (Adv.
Eunomium 1:14). We know God only in His actions, and
by His actions: Hemeis de ek men ton energeion gnorizein legomen ton
Theon hemon, te de ousia prosengizein ouch hypischnoumetha hai men gar
energeiai autou pros hemas katabainousin, he de ousia autou menei
aprositos. [We say that we know our God from his energies
(activities), but we do not profess to approach his essence—for his energies
descend to us, but his essence remains inaccessible (Epist. 234, ad
Amphilochium)]. Yet, it is a true knowledge, not just a conjecture or
deduction: hai energeiai autou pros hemas katabainousin.
In the phrase of St. John of Damascus, these actions or "energies" of
God are the true revelation of God Himself: he theia ellampsis kai
energeia (De Fide Orth. 1: 14). It is a real
presence, and not merely a certain praesentia operativa, sicut
agens adest ei in quod agit [as the actor is present in the thing in
which he acts]. This mysterious mode of Divine Presence, in spite of the
absolute transcendence of the Divine Essence, passes all understanding. But it
is no less certain for that reason.
St. Gregory Palamas stands in an ancient
tradition at this point. In His "energies" the Unapproachable God
mysteriously approaches man. And this Divine move effects encounter: proodos
eis ta exo, in the phrase of St. Maximus (Scholia in De Div. Nom.,
1: 5).
St. Gregory begins with the distinction between
"grace" and "essence": he theia kai theopoios
ellampsis kai charis ouk ousia, all’ energeia esti Theou [the
Divine and Divinizing illumination and grace is not the essence, but the energy
of God; Capita Phys., Theol., etc., 68-9]. This basic
distinction was formally accepted and elaborated at the Great Councils in
Constantinople, 1341 and 1351. Those who would deny this distinction were
anathematized and excommunicated. The anathematisms of the council of 651 were
included in the rite for the Sunday of Orthodoxy, in the Triodion. Orthodox
theologians are bound by this decision. The essence of God is absolutely amethekte [incommunicable].
The source and the power of human theosis is not the Divine
essence, but the "Grace of God": theopoios energeia, hes ta
metechonta theountai, theia tis esti charis, all’ ouch he physis tou
theou [the divinizing energy, by participation of which one is
divinized, is a divine grace, but in no way the essence of God; ibid.
92-3]. Charis is not identical with the ousia. It
is theia kai aktistos charis kai energeia [Divine and
uncreated Grace and Energy; ibid., 69]. This distinction, however, does not
imply or effect division or separation. Nor is it just an
"accident," oute symbebekotos (ibid., 127). Energies
"proceed" from God and manifest His own Being. The term proienai [proceed]
simply suggests diakrisin [distinction], but not a division: ei
kai dienenoche tes physeos, ou diaspatai he tou Pneumatos charis [the
grace of the Spirit is different from the Substance, and yet not separated from
it; Theophan, p. 940].
Actually the whole teaching of St. Gregory
presupposes the action of the Personal God. God moves toward man and embraces
him by His own "grace" and action, without leaving that phos
aprositon [light unapproachable], in which He eternally abides. The
ultimate purpose of St. Gregory's theological teaching was to defend the
reality of Christian experience. Salvation is more than forgiveness. It
is a genuine renewal of man. And this renewal is effected not by the
discharge, or release, of certain natural energies implied in man's own
creaturely being, but by the "energies" of God Himself, who thereby
encounters and encompasses man, and admits him into communion with
Himself. In fact, the teaching of St. Gregory affects the whole system
of theology, the whole body of Christian doctrine. It starts with the clear
distinction between "nature" and "will" of God. This
distinction was also characteristic of the Eastern tradition, at least since
St. Athanasius. It may be asked at this point: Is this distinction compatible
with the "simplicity" of God? Should we not rather regard all these
distinctions as merely logical conjectures, necessary for us, but ultimately
without any ontological significance? As a matter of fact, St. Gregory Palamas
was attacked by his opponents precisely from that point of view. God's Being is
simple, and in Him even all attributes coincide. Already St. Augustine diverged
at this point from the Eastern tradition. Under Augustinian presuppositions the
teaching of St. Gregory is unacceptable and absurd. St. Gregory himself
anticipated the width of implications of his basic distinction. If one does not
accept it, he argued, then it would be impossible to discern clearly between
the "generation" of the Son and "creation" of the world, both
being the acts of essence, and this would lead to utter confusion in the
Trinitarian doctrine. St. Gregory was quite formal at that point.
If according to the delirious opponents and
those who agree with them, the Divine energy in no way differs from the Divine
essence, then the act of creating, which belongs to the will, will in no way
differ from generation (gennan) and procession (ekporeuein), which
belong to the essence. If to create is no different from generation and
procession, then the creatures will in no way differ from the Begotten (gennematos) and
the Projected (problematos). If such is the case according to them, then
both the Son of God and the Holy Spirit will be no different from creatures,
and the creatures will all be both the begotten (gennemata) and
the projected (problemata) of God the Father, and creation
will be deified and God will be arrayed with the creatures. For this reason the
venerable Cyril, showing the difference between God's essence and energy, says
that to generate belongs to the Divine nature, whereas to create belongs to His
Divine energy. This he shows clearly saying, "nature and energy are not
the same." If the Divine essence in no way differs from the Divine energy,
then to beget (gennan) and to project (ekporeuein) will
in no way differ from creating (poiein). God the Father creates by the
Son and in the Holy Spirit. Thus He also begets and projects by the Son and in
the Holy Spirit, according to the opinion of the opponents and those who agree
with them. (Capita 96 and 97.)
St. Gregory quotes St. Cyril of Alexandria. But
St. Cyril at this point was simply repeating St. Athanasius. St. Athanasius, in
his refutation of Arianism, formally stressed the ultimate difference
between ousia [essence] or physis [substance],
on the one hand, and the boulesis [will], on the other. God
exists, and then He also acts. There is a certain "necessity" in the
Divine Being, indeed not a necessity of compulsion, and no fatum, but
a necessity of being itself. God simply is what He is. But God's will is
eminently free. He in no sense is necessitated to do what He does. Thus gennesis [generation]
is always kata physin [according to essence], but creation is
a bouleseos ergon [energy of the will] (Contra
Arianos III. 64-6). These two dimensions, that of being and that of
acting, are different, and must be clearly distinguished. Of course, this distinction
in no way compromises the "Divine simplicity." Yet, it is a real
distinction, and not just a logical device. St. Gregory was fully aware of the
crucial importance of this distinction. At this point he was a true successor
of the great Athanasius and of the Cappadocian hierarchs.
It has been recently suggested that the
theology of St. Gregory, should be described in modern terms as an
"existentialist theology." Indeed, it differed radically from modern
conceptions which are currently denoted by this label. Yet, in any case, St.
Gregory was definitely opposed to all kinds of "essentialist
theologies" which fail to account for God's freedom, for the dynamism of
God's will, for the reality of Divine action. St. Gregory would trace this
trend back to Origen. It was the predicament of the Greek impersonalist
metaphysics. If there is any room for Christian metaphysics at all, it must be
a metaphysics of persons. The starting point of St. Gregory's theology
was the history of salvation: on the larger scale, the
Biblical story, which consisted of Divine acts, culminating in the Incarnation
of the Word and His glorification through the Cross and Resurrection; on the
smaller scale, the story of the Christian man, striving after perfection, and
ascending step by step, till he encounters God in the vision of His glory. It
was usual to describe the theology of St. Irenaeus as a "theology of
facts." With no lesser justification we may describe also the theology of
St. Gregory Palamas as a "theology of facts."
In our own time, we are coming more and more to
the conviction that "theology of facts" is the only sound Orthodox
theology. It is Biblical. It is Patristic. It is in complete conformity with
the mind of the Church.
In this connection we may regard St. Gregory
Palamas as our guide and teacher, in our endeavour to theologize from the heart
of the Church.
Endnotes
1. It has been recently suggested that Gnostics
were actually the first to invoke formally the authority of an "Apostolic
Tradition" and that it was their usage which moved St. Irenaeus to
elaborate his own conception of Tradition. D. B. Reynders, "Paradosis: Le proges de l'idee
de tradition jusqu'a Saint Irenee," in Recherches de Theologie
ancienne et medievale, V (1933), Louvain, 155-191. In any
case, Gnostics used to refer to "tradition."
2. Paul Maas, ed.. Fruhbyzantinische
Kirchenpoesie, I (Bonn, 1910), p. 24.
3. Louis Bouyer,
"Le renouveau des etudes patristiques," in La Vie
Intellectuelle, XV (Fevrier 1947), 18.
4. Mabillon, Bernardi
Opera, Praefatio generalis, n. 23 (Migne, P. L., CLXXXII, c. 26).
5. Cf. M.
Lot-Borodine, "La doctrine de la deification dans I'Eglise grecque
jusqu'au XI siecle," in Revue de l'histoire des religions, tome
CV, Nr I (Janvier-Fevrier 1932), 5-43; tome CVI, Nr 2/3 (Septembre-Decembre
1932), 525-74; tome CVII, Nr I (Janvier-Fevrier 1933), 8-55.
From Ch. 7 of The Collected Works of
Georges Florovsky, Vol. I, Bible, Church, Tradition: An Eastern
Orthodox View (Vaduz, Europa: Buchervertriebsanstalt, 1987), pp.
105-120. This classic is now out of print but still available.
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