A Meeting Place for Evangelicals, Reformed, and Orthodox Christians

Tag: Gordon-Conwell (Page 1 of 2)

Review: GCTS Prof. Ryan Reeves’ lecture: “Great Schism (1054)”

 

Prof. Ryan Reeves

On several occasions, I have read comments by Calvinists and Evangelicals who expressed anger and disappointment on not being taught about the early Church and Orthodoxy while in seminary. I was fortunate that I had more than a little exposure to the early Church and the Church Fathers at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. So I was intrigued when a reader brought to my attention Gordon-Conwell professor Ryan Reeveslecture on the Great Schism of 1054.

 

Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary – South Hamilton MA

As one who once identified with the Reformed tradition then later converted to Orthodoxy, I wondered how balanced the presentation would be. My intent in this article is not so much to criticize as to provide positive feedback so that Prof. Reeves could give his students a more balanced approach (at least from my perspective) to the Great Schism of 1054. It would be as if I had returned to Gordon-Conwell for a one-day visit and dropped in on this particular topic which is of great interest to Christians concerned with church history and church unity.

 

 

It is tragic that the 1054 Schism is so often ignored, or at best, given brief mention in most Protestant and Evangelical circles. It serves as evidence that in the Protestant perspective, church history is not viewed as the Holy Spirit working in the Church—at least in the sense of a continuing Pentecost. This presupposition adds up to a secularization of the Church on earth. To say the least, it inculcates a very different mindset toward Church history and the presence of the kingdom of God on earth.

 

 

Three Factors

Prof. Reeves identified three factors leading up to the 1054 Schism: (1) political, (2) theological, and (3) the “bozos factor.”

Political Factor – The Two Romes

Prof. Reeves commendably debunks the stereotype of the Patriarch of Constantinople as the pope of the East. This stereotype is contrary to the East’s principle of conciliarity or as Reeves puts it aptly: “collaborative unity.” Reeves notes that the Second Ecumenical Council—the Council of Constantinople (381)—established five principle ecclesial seats or patriarchates (12:42; chart at 13:00). The understanding was that these church leaders would supposedly be first among equals. The East’s “collaborative unity” is quite different from the West’s centralized approach to unity that would mark the later papacy. Reeves sees as the “kernel of the fight” the issue of authority, more specifically the role of the Pope—the bishop of Rome in relation to the other Patriarchs (12:42; see chart at 15:45). It would have been good if Prof. Reeves had noted how the episcopacy was foundational to the polity the early Church and how so much of present day Evangelical churches follow a radically different polity.

The roots of the East-West Schism can be seen in the rivalry between the Old Rome and the New Rome aka Constantinople. Once the center of the Roman world, Rome went into decline and in 410 was sacked by Alaric the Visigothic king–an event that shocked and horrified the whole Roman world. With the decline of Old Rome a power vacuum emerged that would be filled by the bishop of Rome, i.e., the papacy. The political gravity shifted to Gaul with the emergence of Charlemagne. In his attempt to restore the Roman Empire in the West and to consolidate his rule in that sphere, Charlemagne referred to the leaders in the East as “Greeks.” This marked the West’s attempt to withstand Constantinople’s asserting its role as the successor to Old Rome.

Charlemagne’s semantic shift in the term “Greek” was designed to make people conscious of a growing divide in the Roman world. It highlighted the fact that there were two major languages—Latin and Greek–in the Roman Empire. This linguistic difference did not matter so long as there were bilingual theologians and rulers. However as the linguistic divide grew, prominent theologians, e.g., Augustine of Hippo, would be unable to read Greek and so had limited exposure to the thinking of the Greek Fathers. This difference in language would contribute to theological differences between the Latin West and the Greek East

 

Theological Factor – The Filioque Clause

One of the most prominent theological issues that led to the 1054 Schism was the Filioque—the unilateral insertion of the phrase “and the Son” into the Nicene Cred. What may seem to be an arcane point of theology for Evangelicals and Protestants today is very pertinent for Orthodox Christians. The Filioque marks the parting of ways between Orthodoxy and Christians of the West: Roman Catholics and Protestants.

Prof. Reeves notes that in the West Arianism was spreading among the Gothic tribes. This gave rise to concerns that the Nicene Creed could be misunderstood to teach that the Son and the Spirit were created, not eternal (19:42). The phrase “and the Son” (Filioque) was inserted into the Creed around the sixth century (20:51) to combat the Arian heresy. Reeves explained that by affirming that the Son was of equal standing with the Father with respect to the procession of the Holy Spirit the divinity of the Son could be maintained (21:27).

Underlying the insertion of the Filioque clause was the issue of authority, more specifically, the Pope’s doctrinal authority. Prof. Reeves points out that the West—the Pope–was saying: “We’re going to change the Creed—add to it in order to clarify the theology of the Creed in the midst of our context.” (22:10-16) When the East began to notice the West’s unilateral revision of the Nicene Creed they objected vociferously (22:25). For them, it was only in the context of a council of bishops (plural) that the Creed could be modified (22:32). Reeves goes on to note that the West’s response was that the papacy had decreed this and therefore it is good theology (22:45). Here I was very surprised. I had never heard of such a papal decree or of such a claim being made. It would be good if Prof. Reeves could provide us with the supporting reference for this.

It would have been good if Prof. Reeves had noted that early on there were Popes—Leo III (795-816)—who had objected to the insertion of the Filioque into the Nicene Creed and that it was not until 1014—at the coronation of Henry II as Holy Roman Emperor—that the Filioque was inserted into the Creed at a papal Mass. In other words, there was a time when the popes held views similar to the East on the Filioque. Since this was a church history lecture, Prof. Reeves should have mentioned that the Filioque clause was first inserted into the Nicene Creed at the Council of Toledo in 589 at the prompting of King Recared who had just converted from Arianism and embraced Nicene Orthodoxy. The revision of Nicene Creed in 589 was done by a minor regional council. This contrasts with the Nicene Creed which was formulated by the numerous bishops at two Ecumenical Councils: Nicea I (325) and Constantinople I (381).

 

Bozos Factor

In 1053, Western cardinal of Silva Candida, Humbert, received a letter from an Eastern bishop, Leo of Ochrid, who condemned the West for the Filioque clause and for their practice of using unleavened bread for the Mass (27:28). Humbert then makes a trip to Constantinople to present his objections to the Patriarch of Constantinople, Michael Cerularius. Reeves describes the 1054 event as “two egomaniacs throwing temper tantrums at each other” (28:10). Granted that both parties behaved deplorably and inexcusably, however, Prof. Reeves’ colorful characterization of what he calls the “bozo factor” is unfortunate. While caricature can be entertaining and memorable, it is similar to ad hominem attacks.

 

The Final Blow — Sack of Constantinople (1204) Source

Closing Thoughts

The 1054 Schism was more a paradigmatic event than the actual breaking point. What happened that day—Saturday, 16 July 1054–highlighted the differences between the East and West, burning them into the collective memory. Towards the end of his half-hour lecture Prof. Reeves drastically compresses the unfolding of the Schism—apparently he is rushing to windup his lecture. He notes that the participants in the 1054 incident did not view it as a momentous act that would sunder the West from the East. He mentions the Fourth Crusade (30:10)—a far more disruptive event for West-East relations. One could say that the pillage of Constantinople by the western Crusaders in 1204 was the straw that broke the camel’s back estranging the East from the West. What happened in 1204 was more a political act than a theological one. Kallistos (Timothy) Ware wrote concerning the aftermath of 1204:

The long-standing doctrinal disagreements were now reinforced on the Greek side by an intense national hatred, by a feeling of resentment and indignation against western aggression and sacrilege. After 1204 there can be no doubt that Christian east and Christ west were divided into two. (The Orthodox Church p. 60).

Prof. Reeves might also have touched on the influence of Augustine of Hippo’s teaching on the double procession of the Holy Spirit as the reason why so much of Roman Catholicism and Protestantism hold on so tenaciously to the Filioque clause. However, Augustine’s understanding of the Trinity does not represent the patristic consensus. His understanding differs from that of the Cappadocian Fathers: Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory Nazianzen, who stressed the monarchy (monos = sole + arche = source) of the Father, that the Son being eternally begotten of the Father and the Holy Spirit proceeding eternally from the Person of the Father. In other words, the understanding of the Trinity found in Augustine and the Filioque clause represent a minority viewpoint in the early Church.

Any good church history professor worth his salt will seek to relate the past to the present. The importance of the Nicene Creed—more accurately the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed—is that if was the Creed for all Christians—East and West. For the students at Gordon-Conwell the question must be posed: Why is it that so many present-day Protestants and Evangelicals do not say the Nicene Creed in their Sunday worship when it was the standard practice back then? And for the Protestants and Evangelicals who do recite the Nicene Creed the question must be posed: Why do they use the version with the Filioque clause? I often tease my Anglican friends for using the papal version of the Nicene Creed. But I am mystified by the reluctance of so many Anglicans to relinquish the Filioque clause and return to the original version of the Nicene Creed.  The return to the universally recognized Creed of the early Church would mark a significant step towards church unity. This tenacious adherence to the Filioque shows how much the 1054 Schism continues to influence relations among Christians today.

In closing, I appreciate Prof. Ryan Reeves presenting the complexity of the 1054 Schism. The only major disagreement I have with his lecture is his characterization of Cardinal of Silva Candida, Humbert, and Patriarch of Constantinople, Michael Cerularius, as “bozos.” I have three suggestions for his 1054 Schism lecture: (1) placing greater stress on 1054 as a paradigmatic event, not as the moment of actual schism, (2) showing how the events of 1054 affect twenty-first century Christians, and (3) using the 1054 Schism to help Gordon-Conwell students become aware of how far present-day Evangelicalism and Protestantism have parted ways with early Christianity.

Robert Arakaki

 

Resources

Athanasios Philippides. “The Days of the Schism of 1054.”
Orthodox Church in America. “The Great Schism.”
Steven Runciman. The Eastern Schism.
Timothy (Kallistos) Ware. The Orthodox Church.

 

 

Memories of the North Shore

Manchester by the Sea    trailer

 

The movie Manchester by the Sea has been getting rave reviews.  I saw it partly because of the reviews, but also because I used to live in the adjacent village of Magnolia.  Watching the movie brought back memories of my time at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary.  The North Shore of Massachusetts is a string of small towns: Salem, Beverly Farms, Beverly, Manchester by the Sea, Magnolia, Gloucester, Annisquam, and Rockport.  Gordon-Conwell is situated nearby, further inland, about eight miles away.  Because I lived in nearby Magnolia, I was constantly driving through Manchester by the Sea.  It was not so much the movie’s storyline, but the background scenery that brought the onrush of memories — the barren winter landscape covered with mounds of snow in the glaring sunlight against the crisp blue sky, the fishing boats floating in the harbor, and the distinctive New England style houses.  [Note: the name of the town is “Manchester by the Sea,” not “Manchester.”]

 

Seeing the austere New England landscape made me reflect on how this Hawai`i-born Asian-American Evangelical began his journey to Orthodoxy.  I had chosen Gordon-Conwell because of its reputation for theological conservatism and academic excellence.  I also went there because it was situated in the heartland of Puritan New England, the oldest Reformed presence in America.  This would put me in a position to meet Evangelicals and Liberals in the United Church of Christ (the present day descendants of the Puritans).  In the early 1800s, Congregational missionaries from New England brought the Christian Gospel to Hawai`i.  The original missionaries had a high regard for the authority of Scripture but by the late 1900s theological liberalism had become entrenched and dominant in the UCC.  My former home church in Hawai`i was one of the few conservative churches in the largely liberal UCC.   I was part of the Evangelical renewal movement in the UCC called the Biblical Witness Fellowship (BWF).  I went to Gordon-Conwell in hopes of eventually becoming an Evangelical seminary professor to help the BWF bring the liberal UCC back to its biblical roots.  However, in a surprising turn of events I became Orthodox!

Pantocrator icon

How did this happen?  Despite Gordon-Conwell’s reputation as a bastion for conservative Protestantism, there were already alternative currents of thoughts flowing in the seminary.  During the first week at seminary I was walking down the hallway of Main Dorm, to my surprise I saw an icon of Christ on one of the student’s door.  Jim was not Orthodox but a member of the Assemblies of God, a Pentecostal group.  Seeing this icon would mark the beginning of the many other surprising encounters over the next three years.

 

 

Meeting Orthodox Christians

Part of my turn to Orthodoxy can be attributed to the people I met.  I was fortunate that Gordon-Conwell offered classes on early Christianity.  In that class I met Theo, a bright undergraduate from nearby Gordon College who was Greek Orthodox.  Theo introduced me to Fr. Chris Foustokos, the priest at Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church in Newburyport.  I later had a long conversation with Fr. Chris during which I grilled him on Orthodox theology and practice.  I came away impressed that he did in fact have a personal faith in Christ.  I was also relieved to learn that he believed that those who converted to Orthodoxy would not have to undergo Hellenization.  In my second year, I sat down for dinner and saw the student sitting across from me make the sign of the Cross.  It turned out that Paul had just graduated from Holy Cross Orthodox Seminary and was up at Gordon-Conwell to study youth ministry.  A number of us Protestants got to know Paul quite well, and later that semester we accompanied him to the Orthodox Good Friday service in Newburyport.

Did these early contacts persuade me to become Orthodox?  Not really.  At the time, becoming Orthodox was the farthest thing from my mind.  Nonetheless, I was curious about Orthodoxy.  These friendly encounters encouraged me to a learn more about Orthodoxy and its ancient Faith.  So, while not decisive, these early encounters were indispensable to my becoming Orthodox.  Looking back, I would say that what was critical were the positive tone and the absence of a judgmental spirit in the Orthodox Christians I met.

 

Meeting Orthodox Converts

Fr. Peter Gillquiist

In my third year, I went to the Greek Orthodox church in Newburyport to hear a presentation by Peter Gillquist, a recent Protestant convert to Orthodoxy.  I asked him some hard questions about Orthodoxy and Reformed theology.  I admired his honesty, but was frustrated when he humbly admitted that he did not know enough about Reformed theology to answer my questions.  This left me on my own to work out the answers about how Orthodoxy and Reformed theology relate to each other.  In many ways this conversation was the genesis of the OrthodoxBridge blog.  Rather than leave people with similar questions to struggle on their own, I decided I would do the research and present my findings on questions relating to Orthodoxy and Protestantism.  The results of my research can be found in the Archives section of this blog.

Did the lack of answers affect my turn to Orthodoxy?  Yes, because I needed good reasons for making such a radical change.  I shared the Reformed tradition’s concern for right doctrine and the careful study of Scripture.  My sense of personal integrity was such that I could not undergo intellectual lobotomy and mindlessly accept Orthodox teachings and practices; I needed good answers, preferably biblical reasons, for becoming Orthodox.  The complexity of the issues surrounding the Orthodox veneration of icons, and Protestantism’s core doctrines of sola scriptura and sola fide were such that I needed to do extensive research.  The answers are there but require thinking outside the Protestant paradigm and questioning the unspoken assumptions that underlie Protestant theology.

I also got to meet Frank Schaeffer, another recent convert, at the Orthodox church in Newburyport.  Where Peter Gillquist was more soft spoken in his presentation of Orthodoxy, Frank was very much in-your-face.  When I asked whether I had to give up my Reformed theology to become Orthodox, he answered: “Yes, because it’s theologically off the map.”  I was taken aback and a bit affronted by his blunt answer.  I know that Frank Schaeffer has caused consternation by some of his recent statements, but I do have some positive memories of his kindness.  Once a fellow seminarian was struggling with going to church so I suggested he visit a nearby Orthodox church.  He met Frank Schaeffer, who then invited him to his home and cooked him lunch!  I was envious when my friend told me this story.

 

Paper on Icons

Prof. Richard Lovelace

During my third year, I wrote a paper on icons and Evangelical spirituality for Prof. Richard Lovelace’s class.  For this class I read some of the Orthodox classics like John of Damascus’ Three Treatises on the Divine Images and Theodore the Studite’s On the Holy Images.  I also drove down to Holy Cross Greek Orthodox Seminary in Brookline and interviewed Prof. Theodore Stylianopoulos.  I was struck by how warm and welcoming Prof. Stylianopoulos was.  I was also struck by how restricted access was at the Orthodox seminary library — a big contrast to Gordon-Conwell’s open stacks! One particularly useful book I came across was Antony Ugolnik’s The Illuminating Icon.  From this book I learned how images can shape one’s internal life and how Orthodox icons helped preserve Orthodoxy during the decades of oppressive Communist rule in the Soviet Union.  This book made me keenly aware of how modern American consumerism is suffused with icons (images).  The striking visuals of modern advertising that promote materialism are the spiritual opposite of Orthodox icons.  Protestantism’s iconoclasm has made it vulnerable to the iconography of Madison Avenue and Hollywood.  From the mass media we are inundated with images of beautiful people with “perfect” bodies who have it all and live “perfectly happy” lives (God removed from the picture).  Much of modern advertising speaks to our bodily appetites e.g., food or comfort, or speaks to our inner vanity or selfish desire to do “our own thing.”  What is being promoted is a secular worldview where God is allowed a limited role in the modern American lifestyle.  In contrast, the otherworldly quality of Orthodox icons points us to the eternal reality that lies beyond the evanescent fads of modernity and our accountability before the judgment seat of Christ.

My paper argued that the aesthetic qualities of icons can be beneficial for personal devotions and that the visual nature of icons can supplement Protestantism’s emphasis on the printed text.  This paper falls short of Orthodoxy’s sacramental understanding of icons, but I am not embarrassed by what I wrote because the gap between Protestantism and Orthodoxy is considerable.  It takes a while for a Protestant mindset to “get it” with respect to Orthodoxy.  This calls for much patience and understanding on the part of Orthodox Christians when they meet Protestants interested in Orthodoxy.

 

Orthodox Books

Much of my turn to Orthodoxy at Gordon-Conwell came through reading.  Two occasions stand out vividly.  During my first year, I went to downtown Boston to make travel arrangements to fly back home.  It was a cold and dark winter afternoon, and as I stood in line reading Alexander Schmemann’s For the Life of the World. I found my secular worldview shattered. In the opening chapter, I encountered Orthodoxy’s sacramental understanding of creation and how the common, ordinary meal was a foreshadowing of the Eucharist.  What I encountered was not just the idea of sacramental reality, but also Orthodoxy as a gateway into that reality.  While Protestantism affirms the reality of heaven, it tends for the most part to project heaven into the distant future or into the afterlife.  This way of thinking leaves the present life encased in a secular materialism.  I learned that in Orthodoxy ordinary stuff like water, bread, wine, and oil can become vessels of divine grace, ushering us into the kingdom of God here and now.

Magnolia rocky shore — Katie Young

 

During my third year I would often spend my mornings reading while sitting against a large rock on Magnolia’s rocky shore.  One of the books I read was Kallistos Ware’s The Orthodox Way.  The chapter “God as Mystery” gave me a glimpse of Orthodoxy’s apophatic approach of understanding God through prayer.  During this time I was writing my statement of faith paper for Prof. John Jefferson Davis’ class.  This assignment was very much in keeping with Western Christianity’s cataphatic methodology, in which one seeks to learn facts about God and then express this understanding of God through words.  From The Orthodox Way I learned how in the apophatic approach, intellectual study and prayer can be integrated to advance our knowing God

 

The Liturgy

During my time at Gordon-Conwell, I attended a few Orthodox liturgies.  One might expect that I fell head over heels in love with the Divine Liturgy, but that was not the case.  The language barrier was so daunting that I saw Greek Orthodox worship as an obscure, intricate ritual.  It was frustrating.  My experience was like that of a hungry person drawn to a restaurant but standing with his face against the window, looking on longingly, but unable to taste the delicacies within.  It was not until I began to attend an all-English Liturgy at a Bulgarian Orthodox parish in Berkeley, California, that my journey to Orthodoxy began in earnest.  Attending the Liturgy there week after week, being immersed in the flow of hymns and prayers, helped me to understand what Orthodoxy is about and experience God as Mystery.

Magnolia village, MA   source

 

Looking Back

My time on Massachusetts’ North Shore was but a small part of my journey to Orthodoxy.  By the end of my three years there I was still very much a Protestant in my thinking, but the various personal encounters and books that I read had had an impact on me.  They were like little seeds planted in the ground, invisible under the surface but slowly germinating, and in due time emerging as a plant that would one day become a pleasing fruit-bearing tree.  An equally good analogy used by my compatriot David Rockett here at the OrthodoxBridge is that these early encounters were like boulders assaulting my medieval castle walls without my noticing the small cracks they were creating in my theological and spiritual foundation! Analogies aside, one take-away here is that journeys to Orthodoxy are rarely instant, dramatic flashes of light in the sky, but more like the gradual light of dawn in which many little things long hidden become noticeable and show their results much later, sometimes after several years.

Robert Arakaki

 

The Illogic of Calvin’s Iconoclasm

 

john_calvin_2_in_library

John Calvin  source

On 23 May 1555, John Calvin preached on Deuteronomy 4:15-20 applying Moses’ admonition against idols to the depicting of Jesus Christ in icons.  This sermon is significant for Reformed-Orthodox dialogue because it presents us not only with Calvin’s hermeneutical method but also the theological reasoning underlying his iconoclasm.

In my article, “The Biblical Basis for Icons,” I pointed to the use of images of cherubim on the curtains of Moses’ Tabernacle and images of cherubim carved on the walls of Solomon’s Temple.  Then in another article, “Calvin Versus the Icon,” I wondered about Calvin’s failure in his Institutes or his commentaries to address these pro-icon passages.  This made me curious about how Calvin would have responded to these passages in the Bible that support images in the church.  It turned out that Calvin in his 1555 sermon did address this issue.  We are fortunate to have Arthur Golding’s English translation of Calvin’s sermon series on Deuteronomy posted online by the University of Michigan.  The reader should keep in mind that Golding (1536-1606) lived in the sixteenth century which accounts for what seems to us peculiar English spelling.

Interior of Solomon's Temple

Interior of Solomon’s Temple (1 Kings 6)

And whereas the alledge that there were Cherubins painted vppon the vaile of the Temple,* and that two likewise did couer the Arke: it serueth to condemne them the more. When the Papistes pre∣tend that men may make any manner of image: What, say they? Hath not God permitted it? No: but the imagerie that was set there, serued to put the Iewes in minde that they ought to abstaine [30] from all counterfeiting of God, insomuch that it was a meane to confirme them the better, that it was not lawfull for them to represent Gods Maiestie, or to make any resemblance thereof. For there was a vaile that serued to couer the great Sanctuarie, and againe there were two Cherubins that couered the Arke of ye couenant. Whereto commeth all this, and what is ment by it, but that when the case concerneth our going vnto God, we must shut our eyes and not preace [40] any neerer him, than he guideth vs by his word? Then let vs hearken to that which he teacheth, and therewithall let vs bee sober, so as our wits bee not ticklish, nor our eyes open to imagine or conceiue any shape.  (Emphases added.)

Calvin’s reasoning here is a curious one.  He argues the cherubim were depicted in the Temple: (1) to condemn the Israelites and (2) to remind them to abstain from making idols.  It is as logical as a teetotaler parent’s taking a drink in order to teach his children to abstain from alcohol, or a college professor copying another professor’s work in order to teach his students the wrongfulness of plagiarism.  In my earlier assessment of Calvin I took an irenic stance by titling the sub-section “The Logic of Calvin’s Iconoclasm.”  However, Calvin’s peculiar exegesis in this sermon leads me to a quite different conclusion: “The Illogic of Calvin’s Iconoclasm.”

When reading the Old Testament it is important for Christians to interpret the text in light of the coming of Christ.  In his sermon, Calvin applies Deuteronomy against the Roman Catholics as if they were living in the Old Testament dispensation.  Calvin here seems to have skipped over the Incarnation.  This is a huge omission because the early Church Fathers saw the Incarnation as a “game changer.”  Prior to the coming of Christ humanity was estranged from God and pagans sought to worship God in the light of their understanding of him.  This led to all sorts of pagan rituals and idols, and erroneous beliefs about his character.  God’s meeting with Moses on Mt. Sinai marked the beginning of the restoration of the true knowledge of God which would culminate in the coming of Christ.  John of Damascus explained how the Incarnation was a game changer.

It is clearly a prohibition against representing the invisible God.  But when you see Him who has no body become man for you, then you will make representations of His human aspect.  When the Invisible, having clothed Himself in the flesh, become visible, then represent the likeness of Him who has appeared.  When He who, having been the consubstantial Image of the Father, emptied Himself by taking the form of a servant, thus becoming bound in quantity and quality, having taken on the carnal image, then paint and make visible to everyone Him who desired to become visible (in Ouspensky 1978:44).

As a result of the Incarnation the life of Christ takes on a revelatory character.  We come to know God’s character not just through the teachings and sayings of Christ but also through his actions.  The Orthodox Church sees the Trinity being revealed in Christ’s baptism in the Jordan and his transfiguration on Mt. Tabor.

John’s First Epistle likewise makes the case that in the Incarnation God the Son became visible and tangible.

That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched…. (1 John 1:1; emphases added)

Calvin’s polemic against images makes sense if God was up in heaven far beyond human knowing and comprehension.  In the Old Testament times it was impossible for man to ascend up to the heavens by his own power to behold God.  Knowledge of God was only possible if God condescended to come down from heaven and showed himself to the patriarchs: Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, or on Mt. Sinai as he did with Moses or through the prophets like Isaiah or Jeremiah.  God’s condescension culminated in his  taking on human flesh and dying on the Cross (Philippians 2:5-11).

 

Are Icons Nestorian?

Calvin makes another argument against depicting Christ in images.  He argues that to depict Christ in images is a form of the Nestorian heresy.

Beholde, they paint and portray Iesus Christ, who (as wee knowe) is not onely man,* but also God manifested in the flesh: and what a representation is that? Hee is Gods eternall sonne, in whom dwelleth the fulnesse of the Godhead, yea euen substantially. Seeing it is said, substantially, should wee haue portraitures and images whereby the onely flesh may bee represented? Is it not a wyping away of that which is chiefest in our Lorde Iesus Christ, that is to wit, of his diuine Maiestie?  (Emphases added.)

In this passage Calvin makes two arguments.  First, he affirms the two natures of Christ: human and divine.  Second, he argues that because only the human nature can be depicted in a painting the result is a Nestorian heresy in which Christ’s humanity is separated from his divinity.

pantocrator-763849

Christ the Pantocrator (The Almighty)

Orthodoxy has two responses to this.  One, the icon depicts the Person of Christ.  This can be seen in the prominence of the face in icons.  Therefore, when Orthodox Christians venerate an icon of Christ their devotion is directed to the Person of Christ, not to his physical nature or the colored paint on the wooden board.  The Person of Christ encompasses both his divine and his human natures.  Two, Orthodox icons of Christ have symbolic references to Christ’s divinity.  Typically, in the Pantocrator icon we see Christ’s red tunic overlaid with the blue mantle.  The underlying red symbolizes Christ’s essential divine nature whereas the blue symbolizes his taking on human nature as an act of grace.

The visual depiction of Christ’s humanity is accompanied by symbolic references to his divine nature.  We see inscribed on the Pantocrator icon the Greek phrase “Ο ΩΝ” which means “He Who Is.”  This is taken from the book of Revelation:

Holy, holy, holy

Is the Lord God Almighty,

Who was, and is, and is to come.

(Revelation 4:8)

For the Orthodox Calvin’s theological critique of icons is fundamentally flawed.  His ignorance of the principle that icons depict the person leads him to a Nestorian understanding of icons.  In other words it is Calvin who is committing the heresy of Nestorianism, not the pro-icon Orthodox!  We don’t know what kind of images Calvin saw in the Roman Catholic churches of his time but in Orthodox iconography there are safeguards in place to guard against Nestorian heresy that viewed his humanity as separate from his divinity.

 

Conclusion

For an Orthodox Christian, Calvin’s sermon against images is seriously flawed.  One, Calvin’s neglecting to interpret Deuteronomy in the light of the Gospels, i.e., the Incarnation of the Word, results in anachronistic hermeneutics.  He criticizes the use of images in Roman Catholic churches as if they were living in Old Testament times.  Two, Calvin’s reading of Old Testament passages where God instructed Moses to have images of the cherubim woven into the Tabernacle curtains as being iconoclastic in intent make no sense whatsoever.  Three, Calvin’s accusation of the implicit Nestorian nature of icons shows a fundamental misunderstanding of icons in Orthodoxy.  Calvin’s accusation of Nestorianism holds up if evidence can be shown that the Church Fathers or Ecumenical Councils understood icons as depicting only Christ’s human nature.  Four, Calvin’s failure to see icons depicting the Person of Christ leads him to an inadvertent Nestorian heresy.

Orthodox Crossing Themselves

Orthodox Crossing Themselves

If a Reformed Christian visiting an Orthodox Liturgy were to observe an Orthodox Christian venerating an icon of Christ they should refrain from jumping to the conclusion that the Orthodox parishioner is worshiping the painting of Christ or his physical nature.  When an Orthodox Christian venerates an icon he or she is showing love and respect to the Person who came down from heaven and died on the Cross for their sins.

It may be that Calvin’s iconoclasm was the result of his being embroiled in the heated Protestant versus Roman Catholic polemic of the time.  Reformed Christians today are fortunate to have the opportunity to engage in dialogue with Orthodox Christians who are familiar with both the Reformed and the Orthodox theological traditions.  [I am grateful for the grounding in Reformed theology that I received at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary prior to my becoming Orthodox.]  Icons have been a longstanding stumbling block between the two traditions.  If it can be shown that Calvin’s iconoclasm is based on a flawed understanding of icons and that the Orthodox pro-icon position is grounded in Scripture then the possibility emerges for a rapprochement between the two traditions.

Robert Arakaki

See also:

Are Images of Jesus Idolatrous?” by Jason Goroncy in Per Crucem ad Lucem.

What  is Calvin’s Take on Images of Jesus?” by Eric Parker in The Calvinist International.

Are icons Nestorian?” in Wicket’s Take.

Theology of the Icon by Leonid Ouspensky, Volume I (1978).

 

« Older posts