The Resistance Factor of Coequality

Is it at all possible to overcome the imperial thrust behind the councils of Nicaea and Chalcedon? Rieger is quite sure that it is, and that it would be a legitimate theological maneuver to attempt to accomplish this feat, even in spite of the imperial presuppositions of those men who originally developed these Christological creeds. Has there not always been something about Christianity which has resisted the status quo of the empire? As a witness to this fact, one could look to the second century philosopher Celsus who considered Christianity to have been a rebellious voice and a dangerous threat to the gods and values of the Roman empire. Also, Christianity’s demonstration of solidarity with the poor and its corresponding call to remember the sufferings of our fellow human beings (in light of the fact that God Himself had chosen to share in human suffering) was something that distinguished the faith from the empire; even from Rome’s general concern for civic welfare. In what ways might these creeds themselves provide a pathway forward which could allow for a resistance against imperial homogenization?

We might begin by considering the fact that orthodoxy did not develop in a controlled and linear fashion. We could acknowledge that its development was full of tension and ambivalence, and that it even went through stages of metamorphosis. It was not as if the early church began as a thoroughly unified project which eventually branched out into a multiplicity of diversified groups over an extended period of time. The Christian religion has always been a varied complexity which would not easily suffer conformity to the mold of the empire which sought to implement and enforce uniformity. Diversity remained even in the years succeeding the allegedly ecumenical and authoritative councils. The emperor Constantine himself (who suggested the term homoousia) by the end of his life had actually backtracked and readmitted Arius to the church. Even the bishop Athanasius (the most staunch defender of homoousia) eventually broadened his viewpoint to allow for the perspective of (the majority) homoiousios position. The tacit uniformity of the Christology of the post-Constantinian church was no less than a fabrication which served as foundational support for an imperial push toward unity. The ancient church’s utter lack of conformity to the conclusions of the councils validates contemporary challenges to the imagined homogeneity of orthodoxy, and (consequently) justifies resistance to hierarchical imperial power structures that depend significantly upon that unity.

Nicaea and Chalcedon might also exhibit the potential for resistance in the way that they set limits upon subordinationist and hierarchical frameworks of divinity which reflect the top-to-bottom power structures of the empire. Nicaea rejected Arius’ subordinationist Christology in favor of a full equality within the Godhead. Chalcedon resisted some of the more extreme hierarchical inclinations of the empire through its declaration of the Son’s coequality with humanity. When considered in tandem, Nicaea and Chalcedon generate a definite solidarity between God and humanity that actually resists top-down organization in favor of equality. Although the councils themselves do not construct any alternatives to the empire’s descending hierarchy, they do leave room for us to consider other non-subordinationist options. The lack of precision with regard to the definition of the homoousia that exists between Father-Son-humanity could also provide us with an opportunity for resistance. Taking this deficiency into account, it seems reasonable for us to allow the cruciform life and death of Jesus to fill the void left by the absence of a positive definition in the creeds themselves. This move will no doubt have serious implications for the way in which we construct future models of divinity (calling into question concepts such as impassibility, immutability, and omnipotence). Plus, it will indeed provide us with a redefinition of power which will resist all false notions advocated by the empire.

The Emperor’s Coequality

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.

The Creeds of the Empire

The extension of the Christian religion generally followed the history of the Roman empire. It is certainly a difficult pill for many a Christian theologian to swallow, knowing that the final doctrinal pronouncements made by the early church and stated within the creeds were inseparably related to and pretty much indistinguishable from the political and economic concerns of the Roman empire. Even the Christological language of the one essence, which subsequently defined the relationships between the Father and the Son, and between the Son and humanity (Nicaea and Chalcedon) was itself introduced and enforced by the emperor Constantine. The emperor no doubt held significant sway over the affairs of the church (both economic and theological), and likewise, the bishops (and eventually the popes) had plenty of opportunity to influence the politics and economics of the empire. Simply stated, those doctrinal formulations which would eventually come to be defined within the church as the orthodox position corresponded with, furthered the agenda of, and were enforced by the Roman empire.

Although the connection between Christ and the empire stretches back to times prior to the rule of Constantine (even back to Paul as we have recently observed) it is usually his reign which marks (for many) the inauguration of the imperial perversion of the church. It was Constantine’s conviction that the Christian God had granted him a military victory over his former co-emperor Licinius which resulted in his becoming the sole emperor of Rome. The council of Nicaea was planned just after this military victory and it was supposed to be a celebration of the liberation of Christianity and of the unified empire under Christ. Thus Arianism was probably not the main reason and was definitely not the only reason for which the Nicaean council had convened, though the controversy no doubt would have been viewed as a threat to the newly established imperial unity. The council was funded entirely by Constantine (including travel expenses for the bishops). He also set the agenda for the council and chaired the meetings. The majority of the bishops probably held to some sort of semi-Arianism. There was also a minority representation of the full-blown Arian position in attendance. Constantine suggested the term (homoousia) which eventually won out, even though this position represented none of the parties involved. The fact that the overwhelming majority of the bishops signed off on homoousia reveals just how influential the emperor was in the determination of orthodoxy.

Imperial unity was the chief motivating factor behind the convening of both Nicaea and Chalcedon, and both councils bear witness to the ever-increasing integration of ecclesial and imperial authority. Cultural cohesion was sought at Nicaea through the institution of a common date for Easter for both east and west. The conclusions of Chalcedon are usually viewed as the middle-road between Pope Leo’s emphasis on the two natures of Christ, and Cyril of Alexandria’s monistic tendencies. At Chalcedon, the hierarchy of the church was strengthened when the monasteries were placed under the control of the bishops, in order to blunt the anarchical spirit of the monks. Also, those whom the church had declared heretics were physically banished from the empire. Bishops were involved at the highest levels of imperial governance, and often maintained their status by means of oppression, violence, and bribery. Cyril of Alexandria actually shut down the churches of the rival Novations and appropriated their wealth for his own cause, sent mobs to plunder the Jewish quarters, had the politically influential non-Christian philosopher Hypatia stoned to death, and utilized the church’s vast monetary resources to ensure the support of emperor Theodosius II and hence the acceptance of Cyril’s Christology at the council of Ephesus in 431. The fact of the matter is that politics and economics played an uncomfortably vital role in the formulation of early orthodox Christology.