It is common for theologians today to view both Nicaea and Chalcedon as having had an anti-hierarchical or possibly even an egalitarian bent. If the Father and the Son are truthfully homoousios, then there can be no hierarchy between the first and the second persons of the Trinity. Likewise, if Jesus’ humanity and our humanity are actually homoousios, then it might be implied that there is an equality of sorts between Jesus and the rest of humanity. This sounds fabulous, but those who would make such assertions are actually failing to notice the way in which these early creedal formulations would have been understood and utilized within the ancient Roman imperial context in which they were constructed. It is Rieger’s position that there were several presuppositions with regard to power and authority at work that went unquestioned during these debates. These assumptions were held in common by both orthodox and heretic alike, and were likely shaped by their everyday experience of Roman imperial hierarchical politics, including the authoritative strategy and performance of the emperor’s themselves.
The central concern for Christology during this period of history has been described as the need to find a way to speak of the relation between the divine and human in Christ in such a way so as to allow for compassionate condescension, without implying a breakdown of power. All parties involved in the debates assumed an inherent opposition and hierarchy between God and humanity, which they sought to preserve in their Christological formulations. Divine power was set both above and in opposition to all alternative human forms and sources of power. As the ultimate and infallible authority of God, divine power was far less susceptible to the challenge and criticism that normally accompanied all other human claims to power. This divine authority (far removed from all human authority) was then reassigned to those persons in positions of imperial political and ecclesial power. Thus divine power was (notably) mediated through the emperor and through the church, each of which (for all practical purposes) was granted a quasi divine status within the empire. Interestingly enough, both Nicaea and Chalcedon were constructed in an era when the social segregation between those who were in power and those who were not was becoming increasingly exaggerated. These councils no doubt served to strengthen the authoritative muscle of the political and ecclesial establishment due to their unquestioning approval of the oppressive imperial status quo.
The creeds themselves eventually began to be utilized as a means by which power and authority could be achieved and sustained in the imperial church. Athanasius himself appealed to Nicaea as a vital source of divine authority. He was the very first to refer to the council as ecumenical and authoritative, to refer to the bishops as the fathers, and to identify the council with the apostolic tradition. Those who are even slightly familiar with pre-Nicaean Christology or the way in which this supposed “consensus” was reached at Nicaea will recognize that Athanasius had a rather active imagination. Regardless though, Athanasius based his claim to the Alexandrian bishopric upon his allegiance to the imperial council, and he sought to maintain his election to said office by any means necessary; up to and including violent force! This leads us to another disappointing aspect of these creeds. Men the likes of Athanasius and Cyril were able to resort to oppression and violence in the name of preserving and protecting the truth, without having either their divine status of authority or their orthodox reputations called into question. This is because the theology of both creeds not only allowed for, but actually endorsed this type of behavior through its assumed acceptance of hierarchy and its top-down organization of power which mirrored that of the empire. Sadly, these methods have oft been labeled providential, and have even been considered an aid in the spread of the gospel.
