The orthodox doctrine of the Incarnation (part 1 of 3)

    A few months ago, I attempted to explain the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity by drawing on the first- through eighth-century patristic tradition, especially St Gregory of Nyssa. [1] In this post, I will try to do the same for the doctrine of the Incarnation. As I said before, it’s wrong to view Christian theology as a logical ‘problem’ to be solved. Nor can theology be really separated into different fields like triadology, Christology, and soteriology, all of which are intimately bound up with one another and with Scripture and the liturgical life of the Church. The seven ecumenical councils weren’t discussing sterile logical propositions, but discerning and refuting errors about the hypothesis of the Christian faith himself, the crucified and risen Lord Jesus Christ, which challenged our salvation in him. [2]

    Our starting point, therefore, must be the Nicene Creed that is recited weekly by most Christians worldwide, which says about Jesus:

[I believe] in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the only-begotten, begotten of the Father before all ages; light of light; true God of true God; begotten, not made; of one essence with the Father; by whom all things were made; who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven, and was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and became man; and he was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered, and was buried; and the third day he rose again, according to the Scriptures; and ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father; and he shall come again with glory to judge the living and the dead, whose kingdom shall have no end.

    The Fathers, especially St Cyril of Alexandria, also took the Creed as a starting point and saw it as sufficient for orthodox Christology. However, they encountered various errors that implicitly denied the truth of Christ, which forced them to elaborate the doctrine of the Incarnation and how it’s possible for God to become human. Here, we’ll go through a few key texts from the Christological controversies of the fifth to seventh centuries to better understand “the whole mystery of Christ,” as St Maximus the Confessor referred to the Incarnation.

Christology before St Cyril

    Prior to the fifth century, there wasn’t a lot of focus on the Incarnation proper: that is, Christ as God-man. [3] In the apostolic era, the main Christological controversy was about whether Jesus had a genuine physical body or only in appearance (docetism), and St John insisted that the Son of God really was “in the flesh” (1 John 4:1-3; 2 John 1:7; cf. Luke 24:39; John 1:14; 6:51-56; 1 Tim 3:16). The few Incarnational statements in the New Testament – “the Word became flesh” (John 1:1-18), “Christ Jesus… being in the form of God… taking the form of a slave” (Phil 2:6-8), “God sent his Son, born of a woman” (Gal 4:4-6) – are embedded in a larger narrative or exhortation.

    St Ignatius of Antioch, following his teacher, was a strong opponent of docetism and insisted on the real physical existence of Jesus Christ (Tral 10; Smyrn 1–7). Against false teachers (the docetists?), he says that “there is one Physician, both fleshly and spiritual, born and unborn, in humanity, divine, in death, true life, both from Mary and from God, first passible and then impassible: Jesus Christ our Lord” (Eph 7.2). [4] Ignatius’ attribution of apparently contradictory (both divine and human) predicates to one subject anticipates later Christological formulations.

    By the time of St Irenaeus of Lyons, the main challenge to proto-orthodoxy was gnosticism. Because the gnostics made a stark distinction between the God of spirit and the demiurge who made matter, some also (at least in Irenaeus’ view) divided Jesus Christ into two, between the fleshly Jesus and the Christ who descended upon him (Against Heresies 3.16.1). Against them, the bishop of Lyons repeats the refrain “one and the same”: the only-begotten Word of the Father is the very same one who was born of the virgin and became human (3.16-18). We know, therefore, that “there is one God, the Father, and one Christ Jesus [cf. 1 Cor 8:6]... the invisible becoming visible, the incomprehensible becoming comprehensible, the impassible becoming passible, and the Word human” (3.16.6). He became, says St Irenaeus, what we are, so that we may become what he is (3.19.1; 5.pref).

    Origen of Alexandria elaborates his incarnational Christology in his work of systematic theology, On First Principles. “The medium between all these created things and God [the Father]” is the Son of God, not by being an ontological intermediate between God and humanity, but by having emptied himself and become himself a human (2.6.1). What baffles the intellect is how one subject can be both divine and human: “If it thinks of God, it sees a mortal; if it thinks of a human, it sees him returning from the dead with spoils, having conquered the kingdom of death” (2.6.2). This is possible because the Word of God, from the beginning of creation, was perfectly united to his soul in its properties and moral disposition, like iron taking on the properties of fire (2.6.4-6). The soul mediated between the Word and his flesh, making it possible for him to become human (2.6.3). Origen’s view was not, of course, followed in all its details, but his emphasis on the human rational soul of Jesus Christ became an important part of later orthodoxy. [5]

    The Arian controversy marked a turning point for Incarnation Christology. If Jesus is not as divine as the Father, but rather a created deity (even the greatest one), then it’s possible to see the Incarnation as an episode in the life of a single psychological subject, the Word, who begins as a god and then ensouls a human body (e.g., Eusebius of Caesarea, Church Theology 1.20.40-44). But if Jesus is “true God of true God [the Father],” then it’s no longer possible to view the Incarnation as a temporal movement from one state to another. Thus, after the victory of Nicene orthodoxy, the issue of the Incarnation came to the forefront. The main contributors to the fourth-century discussion were Apollinarius of Laodicea, Diodore of Tarsus, and St Gregory the Theologian. [6]

    Apollinarius emphasized the unity of Christ, to the point that, in his view, the communication of attributes applies not just to the person of Jesus Christ but his humanity and divinity. Thus, his flesh is eternal and descended from heaven, and his divinity was born from Mary. [7] There is, therefore, “one nature constituted out of both parts” (Union 5). Furthermore, as seen in the fragments of his writings, he believed that the Word took the place of the human spirit in his composite of body, soul, and spirit, since the natural human spirit is indelibly stained by sin. Because of this, Christ did not assume full human nature; indeed, Apollinarius can go so far as to say that Christ is “not a human” and “not of our nature” (e.g., Anak. 3; 23).

    Against him, Diodore of Tarsus stressed the full humanity, and the duality of Christ, to preserve the impassibility of the Word which he saw as challenged by Apollinarius’ view. Diodore argued that the attributes of the divinity and the humanity – and the various statements about Christ in Scripture – must not be confused, but rather attributed to different subjects, the “divine Word” and the “son of David” (BD 6). [8] The Word was not born, but rather his temple (the body), from Mary, who is therefore not strictly speaking theotokos (“birthgiver of God”: BD 1; cf. SD 2). Therefore, Christ is not “one and the same” (BD 26), but “one and another” (BD 2).

    St Gregory the Theologian opposes both of these views in his writings, especially his Letter 101 to the presbyter Cledonius. In this letter, he sets out his own view:

...we affirm and teach one and the same God and Son, at first not man but alone and pre-eternal, unmixed with body and all that belongs to the body, but finally human being too, assumed for our salvation, the same passible in flesh, impassible in divinity, bounded in body, boundless in spirit, earthly and heavenly, visible and known spiritually, finite and infinite: so that by the same, whole man and God, the whole human being fallen under sin might be fashioned anew. (4)

    He goes on to reject several claims: that Mary is not theotokos; that Christ passed through her like a channel; that his humanity was first formed and later assumed; that there are two Sons – because Christ is “one [thing] and another” (allo kai allo), not “one [person] and another” (allos kai allos), just as the Trinity is one person and another but not one thing and another –; that the man Jesus was “activated by grace” and not “united”; that the Crucified is not to be worshipped; that Jesus was made worthy of adoption; that Christ no longer has a body; that his flesh descended from heaven; and that he does not have a human mind (5). Most of these anathemas refute Diodore, but the last two or three refute Apollinarius. Against him, St Gregory insists that the Word and a human mind can occupy the same body because both are incorporeal (6–7). Clearly influenced by Origen, he says that the mind is precisely what mediates between Christ’s divinity and his body (8). If the human mind is stained by sin, then all the more it should be assumed by Christ to restore it: “what is not assumed is not healed, but what is united to God is being saved” (5; 8–10).

“The one Lord Jesus Christ must not be divided”

    So much for the doctrine of the Incarnation in the first through fourth centuries. Controversy sprung up again in the fifth century when Nestorius, the archbishop of Constantinople and indirect disciple of Diodore of Tarsus, claimed publicly that Mary cannot strictly (akribos) be referred to as theotokos: she “did not produce the Creator, rather she gave birth to the human being, the instrument of the divinity” (First Sermon Against the Theotokos). Whatever his actual views, Nestorius’ opponents, especially St Cyril of Alexandria, interpreted him as saying that Christ is two subjects, divine and human, who are united only by an external relation. [9] It’s undeniable that he stressed the duality of Christ to an extent that his real unity was called into question.

    St Cyril, archbishop of Alexandria, wrote three letters in response to Nestorius over the course of the controversy. The Second Letter to Nestorius was later canonized by the Councils of Ephesus (431) and Chalcedon (451), and hence it is a genuine expression of the orthodox Christian faith. He begins by quoting the Creed of Nicaea (325):

Well, the great and holy Synod [of Nicaea] said that it was the Only begotten Son himself, naturally born from God the Father, true God from true God, light from light, through whom the Father made all things, who was the one who came down, was made flesh, was made man, suffered, rose again on the third day, and ascended into the heavens. We must follow these words and teachings, and realise what is meant by the Word of God being made flesh and made man. (3a) [10]

    His starting point is the creed worked out a century before him, because, as he wrote earlier, “we shall [expound the sound doctrine of the faith] most correctly if we are very careful, when we encounter the teachings of the holy Fathers, to hold them in the highest regard” (2). St Cyril was deeply concerned for his doctrine to be in line with the historical teaching of the Church and her bishops, especially as worked out at the council of Nicaea.

We do not say that the nature of the Word was changed and became flesh, nor that he was transformed into a perfect man of soul and body. We say, rather, that the Word, in an ineffable and incomprehensible manner, ineffably united to himself flesh animated with a rational soul, and thus became man and was called the Son of Man. This was not effected only as a matter of will, or favour, or by the assumption of a single prosopon. While the natures that were brought together into this true unity were different, nonetheless there is One Christ and Son from out of both. This did not involve the negation of the difference of natures, rather that the Godhead and manhood by their ineffable and indescribable consilience into unity achieved One Lord and Christ and Son for us. (3b)

    Here Cyril refutes the charges, laid against him by Nestorius, that he confused the divinity and humanity of Christ and that he was an Apollinarian. The Word did not unite to himself flesh alone, or flesh with an animal soul alone, but “flesh animated with a rational soul” (psychē logikē). Against Nestorius, this union wasn’t an external relation – whether an agreement of wills between the Word and the man, or favor bestowed on the man by the Word, or the manifestation of the Word and the man as a single persona (prosopōn) – but a “true unity” which is described as “hypostatic” (kath’ hypostasin). This means that a single concrete subject was formed out of “the divinity and humanity,” making “one Christ and Son out of both,” without thereby denying “the difference of natures” (tōn physeōn diaphoras).

For this reason, even though he existed and was begotten of the Father from before all ages, he is also said to have been begotten from a woman according to the flesh. This does not mean that his divine nature received the beginning of its existence in the holy virgin or that it necessarily needed a second generation for its own sake after its generation from the Father. It is completely foolish and stupid to say that he who exists before all ages and is coeternal with the Father stood in need of a second beginning of existence. Nonetheless, because the Word hypostatically united human reality to himself, ‘for us and for our salvation’, and came forth of a woman, this is why he is said to have been begotten in a fleshly manner. The Word did not subsequently descend upon an ordinary man previously born of the holy virgin, but he is made one from his mother’s womb, and thus is said to have undergone a fleshly birth in so far as he appropriated to himself the birth of his own flesh.

So it is we say that he both suffered and rose again; not meaning that the Word of God suffered in his own nature either the scourging, or the piercing of the nails, or the other wounds, for the divinity is impassible because it is incorporeal. But in so far as that which had become his own body suffered, then he himself is said to suffer these things for our sake, because the Impassible One was in the suffering body. We understand his death in the same manner. By nature the Word of God is immortal and incorruptible, and Life, and Life-giver, and yet since his own body ‘tasted death by the grace of God on behalf of all’ [Heb 2:9], as Paul says, then he himself is said to have suffered death for our sake. This does not mean he underwent the experience of death in terms of his nature for it would be madness to say or think such a thing; rather, as I have said, it means that his flesh tasted death. Similarly when his flesh was raised up, once again we say that the resurrection is his. This does not mean that he fell into corruption, certainly not, but again that his own body was raised. (4–5)

    This passage is key to understanding St Cyril’s Christology and his dispute with Nestorius. Cyril coins the term “hypostatic union” in this letter to indicate that the Word of God and the “flesh animated with a rational soul” are one concrete subject. Therefore, the body and the flesh are “his own” (to idion autou), and anything that is predicated of the body – birth from Mary, suffering, death, and resurrection – must also be predicated of the single subject, the Word, even though they don’t apply to “his own [divine] nature.” Nestorius, on the other hand, sought to precisely distinguish between the terms that applied to the humanity (e.g., birth, death) and the divinity (e.g., “God,” “Word”), versus the combination of both (e.g., “Christ,” “Son”). St Cyril saw the communication of attributes as absolutely necessary, because dividing the titles in this way implicitly denies the single subjectivity of Christ.

And so we confess One Christ and Lord. This does not mean we worship a man alongside the Word, in case the shadow of a division might creep in through using the words ‘along with’; rather that we worship one and the same because the body of the Word, with which he shares the Father’s throne, was not alien to him. Again this does not mean two sons were sharing the throne, but one, because of the union with the flesh. But if we reject this hypostatic union as either impossible or unfitting, then we fall into saying there are two sons, and in that case we will be compelled to make a distinction and say that one of them was really a man, honoured with the title of Son, while the other was the Word of God who enjoyed the name and reality of Sonship by nature. (6)

    Nestorius also accepted “one Christ,” and “Lord,” and “Son,” because he applied these titles to the conjunction of the two natures. However, Cyril clarifies that we “do not co-worship [symproskynountes] a man with the Word.” He prefers to not use the term “with” (syn) at all, since this could be taken to imply division between two subjects in Christ. Instead, we should speak of the “union with his own flesh” (henōsis meta tēs idias sarkos) or “the hypostatic union” (tēn kath’ hypostasin henōsin), which makes it clear that Christ is one concrete subject.

And so, we must not divide the One Lord Jesus Christ into two sons. To hold this in no way benefits the correct exposition of the faith, even if certain people do declare a unity of personas; for the scripture did not say that he united the persona of a man to himself, but that he became flesh [John 1:14]. Yet the Word ‘becoming flesh’ means nothing else than that ‘he shared in flesh and blood like us’ [Heb 2:14], and made his very own a body which was ours, and that he came forth as man from a woman, although he did not cast aside the fact that he is God, born of God the Father, but remained what he was even in the assumption of the flesh. Everywhere the exposition of the orthodox faith promotes this doctrine. We shall also find that the holy Fathers thought like this, and this is why they called the holy virgin ‘Mother of God’. This does not mean that the nature of the Word or his divinity took the beginning of its existence from the holy virgin, rather that he is said to have been born according to the flesh in so far as the Word was hypostatically united to that holy body, which was born from her, endowed with a rational soul. (7a)

    St Cyril concludes his letter by defending Mary’s title theotokos, which is what sparked the controversy in the first place. The reason this title is so important is because of the communication of attributes: if the Lord Jesus Christ is one subject, rather than a “unity of personas” (prosōpōn henōsin; i.e., an external relation between two subjects), then everything which applies to his body also applies to himself. It was therefore God the Word himself who was borne by the holy Virgin Mary. Nestorius’ denial of this implies the division of the one Lord Jesus Christ, which was Cyril’s central concern from the very start of the Christological controversy.

“Let the heavens rejoice!”

    St Cyril held a council of Egyptian bishops in Alexandria in 430 to address the Christological issue, and the synod composed a letter to Nestorius which is known as Cyril’s Third Letter to Nestorius. This letter is more or less an extended discussion of the same issues as the Second Letter, but with twelve anathemas attached to the end. These anathemas were taken by Antiochene theologians, such as Theodoret of Cyrrhus and Andrew of Samosata, to mean that Cyril was confusing Christ’s divinity and humanity, and he had to write several works to defend them. Especially his fourth and twelfth anathemas came under scrunity:

If anyone interprets the sayings in the Gospels and apostolic writings, or the things said about Christ by the saints, or the he says about himself, as referring to two prosopa or hypostases, attributing some of them to a man conceived of as separate from the Word of God, and attributing others (as divine) exclusively to the Word of God the Father, let him be anathema.

If anyone does not confess that the Word of God suffered in the flesh, was crucified in the flesh, and tasted death in the flesh, becoming the first-born from the dead, although as God he is life and life-giving, let him be anathema.

    These could be taken in the sense of Apollinarius, that is, that the communication of attributes applies even to Christ’s divinity and humanity, so that it can be said his flesh is eternal and his divinity suffered. However, St Cyril clearly didn’t mean that in context. Even earlier in this letter, he distinguishes between “the humanly” and “the godly sayings,” and what is said “in a God-befitting way” versus “when not despising the limitations of the humanity,” while emphasizing that both are “attributed to one person and one incarnate hypostasis of the Word” (Third Letter 8). Likewise, in his Explanation of the Twelve Chapters, he makes clear that “we apply all the sayings in the Gospels, the human ones as well as the ones befitting God, to one person” (14), and that the divine nature is impassible, but the Word of God made passible flesh “his own” in which he suffered and died (31).

    Even so, this widened the rift between the Alexandrian and Antiochene schools. The council of Ephesus in 431 only worsened the situation, because – although the reports about why this happened differ – Cyril began the proceedings of the ecumenical council, and Nestorius was deposed, before the Antiochene bishops arrived. When the Antiochene bishops finally showed up, they held their own opposing council which deposed Cyril instead. This led to a rift in communion between Alexandria and Antioch. However, under imperial pressure toward unity, the two groups worked toward a compromise and finally found a statement of faith that convinced both St Cyril of Alexandria and John of Antioch of the other’s orthodoxy. This Formula of Reunion is preserved in Cyril’s letter to John, which begins, “’Let the heavens rejoice and let the earth be glad,’ for... all difference of opinion has been removed”:

And so we confess that Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, is perfect God and perfect Man, of a rational soul and body. He is born of the Father before the ages according to the Godhead, and the same one in these last days for us and for our salvation was born of the virgin Mary according to the manhood. The same one is consubstantial with the Father according to the Godhead, and consubstantial with us according to the manhood, for there was a union of the two natures, and this is why we confess One Christ, One Son, One Lord. According to this understanding of the unconfused union we confess that the holy virgin is the Mother of God, because God was made flesh and became man, and from the very moment of conception he united to himself the temple that was taken from her. As for the evangelical and apostolic sayings about the Lord, we are aware that theologians take some as common, as referring to one prosopon, but distinguish others as referring to two natures; that they interpret the God-befitting ones in accordance with the Godhead of the Christ, and the humble ones in accordance with the manhood. (Letter 39.5)

This statement removes all question of both Apollinarian and Nestorian heresy from either group. On the one hand, the Lord Jesus Christ is “perfect human, from a rational soul and body,” and “consubstantial with us according to his humanity.” On the other, “the same one” was begotten by the Father and by Mary, and Mary is truly theotokos since “God the Word was made flesh and made human.”

    Because of the language of “two natures” in this statement, especially that sayings are “distinguished as referring to two natures,” this was interpreted by some in the Alexandrian party as a betrayal of St Cyril’s earlier principles. In fact, as we saw, even in the Third Letter he distinguished “God-befitting” sayings and “humanly” sayings about Christ. Cyril frequently refers to Christ’s divinity as “his own nature,” and sometimes speaks of his flesh or body as having “its own nature” or “our nature” (esp. see Festal Letter 17), which therefore also belongs to Christ. This language can be found from his earliest to his latest writings, and he even says (when explaining Luke 2:52) that Jesus allowed “the nature like ours to move according to its own laws” (Festal Letter 17.2.8; cf. Comm John 14:20). In all of his writings, St Cyril conceives of Christ as a single separate reality in whom divinity and humanity exist unconfused. [11]

    In his letters to Eulogius and Succensus (letters 44–46), Cyril defends his acceptance of Antiochene “two natures” language against members of his own party. Here is his answer in part:

...even if [Nestorius] does speak of two natures to signify the difference between the flesh and God the Word. For the nature of the Word is one thing, and that of the flesh quite another. But Nestorius does not confess the union along with us. We unite these realities and confess that the self-same is one Christ, One Son, and One Lord, and we confess moreover that there is one incarnate nature of the Son; just as one might say in regard to an ordinary man who results from different natures, that is body and soul. Our intellect and deductive ability recognises the difference, but we unite them and then recognise the single nature of man. This is why to acknowledge the difference of the natures is not to divide the one Christ into two. (44.1)

As I have said, if we understand the manner of the incarnation we shall see that two natures come together with one another, without confusion or change, in an indivisible union. The flesh is flesh and not Godhead, even though it became the flesh of God; and similarly the Word is God and not flesh even if he made the flesh his very own in the economy. Given that we understand this, we do no harm to that concurrence into union when we say that it took place out of two natures. After the union has occurred, however, we do not divide the natures from one another, nor do we sever the one and indivisible into two sons, but we say that there is One Son, and as the holy Fathers have stated: One Incarnate Nature of The Word. (45.6)

These passages make clear that Cyril’s concern is with the division of Jesus Christ into two subjects, and not the difference between Christ’s divinity and humanity (cf. Contra Nestorium 2.6), even though in his own language he prefers not to refer to the divinity and humanity as “two natures.”

    His affirmation of “one incarnate nature of the Word” seems at odds with this, and in his own writings from prior to the controversy over “two natures,” he prefers to use the language of “hypostatic union” instead. [12] St Cyril mistakenly believed that “one incarnate nature of the Word” was a phrase used by St Athanasius, when in fact it is from Apollinarius’ Letter to Julian; because he thought that this phrase was from the Fathers, he found it useful for defending his own view against other Alexandrian theologians. However, when he explains this phrase in his second letter to Succensus, he is clear that “one nature of the Word” refers to Christ’s divinity, while “‘incarnate’ implies the whole system of the economy with flesh,”  including the rational soul, sufferings, and consubstantiality with humanity (46.2ff).

    In summary, St Cyril of Alexandria’s main Christological insight is that the Lord Jesus Christ is one concrete subject who cannot be divided. Nestorius’ claim that the Virgin Mary is not “strictly” theotokos implies, in Cyril’s view, that Jesus Christ who was born from her is not “strictly” God. To divide the sayings about Christ is to implicitly divide him into more than one subject. This is unthinkable for St Cyril because the entire economy of salvation is that the Word of God, the Son of the Father, is one and the same as Jesus, the son of Mary, who died for us and rose on the third day, thereby redeeming us from death and raising our nature.

______________________________

[1] See part 1 of my post, in which I explained the monarchy of the Father (that the one God = the Father), and part 2 in which I showed how the Trinity is (the) one God. St Athanasius sums up trinitarian theology much more concisely in his first letter to St Serapion of Thmuis, in an excerpt which is one of the readings for the Catholic Office for Trinity Sunday (see here, second reading), often quoted as “Light, radiance and grace are in the Trinity and from the Trinity.”

[2] For a great overview of the ecumenical councils and their theology, see Sergey Trostyanskiy (ed.), Seven Icons of Christ: An Introduction to the Oikoumenical Councils (Gorgias Press: 2016).

[3] For this overview of Christology prior to the fifth century, I’m heavily relying on Fr John Behr, The Way to Nicaea (St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001); The Nicene Faith (St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2004).

[4] εἷς ἰατρός ἐστιν, σαρκικός τε καὶ πνευματικός, γεννητὸς καὶ ἀγέννητος, ἐν ἀνθρώπῳ θεός, ἐν θανάτῳ ζωὴ ἀληθινή, καὶ ἐκ Μαριας καὶ ἐκ θεοῦ, πρῶτον παθητὸς καὶ τότε ἀπαθής, Ἰησοῦς Χριστὸς ὁ κύριος ἡμῶν. Don’t read too much into St Ignatius’ statement that Christ is “unborn” (agennētos), since the hard distinction drawn in the fourth century between agenētos (uncreated) and agennētos (unbegotten) had not been drawn yet.

[6] For a great overview of the fourth-century Christological debate, see Christopher E. Beeley, “The Early Christological Controversy: Apollinarius, Diodore, and Gregory Nazianzen,” Vigiliae Christianae 65 (2011): 376-407.

[7] This is most clearly seen in Apollinarius’ work On the Body’s Union with the Divinity in Christ, written around 370, which is precisely about his view of the communication of attributes.

[8] Christopher E. Beeley, “The Early Christological Controversy,” 388-390.

[9] This seems correct to me. In the same sermon, Nestorius says that “the incarnate God did not die, but he raised up the one in whom he was incarnate”; that the Incarnation is like if one person, while remaining what he is, lifts up another hurt person by joining body to body; that Christ “assumed the person of the debt-ridden nature... assumed a person of our same nature”; that he worships the man Jesus “as the instrument of the Lord’s goodness... the one who is borne because of the one who carries him... the one I see because of the one who is hidden”. He never refers to two prosōpa (“persons”), which St Cyril accuses him of believing, but this is because, in his ontology, prosōpon is not a real being but an external manifestation, which is one in the case of the Son of God and Son of Man (e.g., Bazaar of Heraclides 58). The union of prosopōn is not natural, but voluntary, on the part of “the natures” even after the union (Bazaar 47). For a more detailed overview of Nestorius’ metaphysics and Christology, see Sergei Trostyanskiy, Seven Icons of Christ, 119-139.

[10] Translation from John A. McGuckin, St. Cyril of Alexandria: The Christological Controversy: Its History, Theology, and Texts (Brill: 1994), 262-265.

[11] See especially Hans van Loon, The Dyophysite Christology of Cyril of Alexandria (Brill, 2009).

[12] Hans van Loon, The Dyophysite Christology of Cyril of Alexandria, 521-530.

The development of apostolic succession

    In my last post, I tried to show that the basic claim of apostolic succession goes back to the first century. I’d like to reiterate my claim: that there is a succession of bishops ordained by laying on of hands going back to the apostles, and the assured Eucharist (hence the assured Church) is intimately tied to these bishops – nothing more or less than this. This idea was indeed present in the earliest Church, but the office of bishop didn’t look quite like it does today. For one thing, the distinction between offices was more fluid, “bishop” and “presbyter” referred to the same office, and there were multiple bishops in each city. Here I will look into how the offices of the Church and the idea of apostolic succession developed between the first and fourth centuries.

Second Century

    The second century saw the rise of the “three-tier” structure of bishops, presbyters, and deacons, and the development of the distinct office of presbyter. But how and why did this take place? Let’s start with the writings of St Ignatius of Antioch, who is the first to attest this structure.

Ignatius of Antioch and the “three-tier” Church

    St Ignatius was the bishop of Antioch in the early second century until his martyrdom at Rome, which took place between ca. AD 108 and 140. [13] A recurring theme in his letters to the churches of Asia Minor is the bishop’s authority and the unity of the Church around him. This is seen quite clearly in his letter to the church in Smyrna:

Avoid divisions as the beginning of all evils. See that you all follow the bishop, as Christ does the Father, and the presbytery as you would the apostles, and reverence the deacons, as a command of God. Let no one do anything connected with the Church without the bishop. Let that be considered an assured Eucharist which is under the leadership of the bishop or one to whom he has entrusted it. Wherever the bishop appears, there let the multitude of the people be; just as wherever Christ Jesus is, there is the catholic Church. It is not permitted without the bishop either to baptize or to celebrate an agapē; but whatever he shall approve of, that is also well-pleasing to God, so that everything that is done may be assured and certain. (Smyrn 8)

    In his letters to the churches at Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphia, and Smyrna, Ignatius refers to the bishop of the church and distinguishes him from the presbytery (Eph 1.3; 4.1; Magn 2; Tral 1–3; Phil 1.1; 4; 10.2; Smyrn 12.2). He exhorts the believers to submit to the bishops and presbyters, not to avoid gathering with them, lest they be deprived of the Eucharist (Eph 4–6; 20.2; Magn 3–7; 13; Tral 2–3; 7; Phil 3–4; Smyrn 6–9). The fact that this is a central concern indicates that there was a serious danger of division in the Asian churches, and the only way believers could be “assured” that their Eucharist and Church were genuine was to gather with the genuine bishop. This fits with what we know from Revelation 2–3 that in the late first century, the churches in Asia Minor were beset by serious internal difficulties.

    That explains Ignatius’ strong emphasis on the singularity of the bishop and the necessity of submitting to him. But where did the presbytery come from as a separate office from the episcopate? The presbyters in Asia Minor seem to have had an advisory and teaching role. They were “fitted to the bishop like strings are to the harp” (Eph 4.1); to be regarded as “the sanhedrin of God, the assembly of the apostles” (Tral 3.1). My hypothesis is that the itinerant ministry of prophets and teachers came to be subsumed within the local congregation in the late first and early second centuries, becoming a third office between bishop and deacon, and the term “presbyter” shifted from a title of the bishop to the title of this office. Another possibility is that, when the singular bishop became the locus of unity in congregations subject to serious internal stresses, the other bishops maintained a subordinate position as mere “presbyters.” [14]

    Although the letters of St Ignatius are sometimes appealed to in support of apostolic succession, he actually never makes that claim. He strongly attests to the necessity of the bishop for the assured Eucharist and Church, but never discusses ordination or says that the office of bishop is derived from the apostles, which indicates that there wasn’t any controversy yet about who the genuine bishop was. In fact, Ignatius says that the presbyters are in the place of the apostles, while the bishop is in the place of God or Jesus Christ and the deacons in the place of Jesus Christ or “the command of God” (Magn 6.1; Tral 2–3; Smyrn 8.1). [15] This doesn’t disprove apostolic succession, since every office in the Church is directly or indirectly derived from the apostles, but neither does it support apostolic succession.

Bishops and presbyters in the second century

    The distinction between bishop and presbyters appears in Syria and Asia Minor already at the beginning of the second century, but this “three-tier” structure took time to spread. St Polycarp, the bishop of Smyrna in the mid-second century, wrote to the church in Philippi, “submit yourselves to the presbyters and deacons as to God and Christ,” and gave exhortations to deacons and presbyters (5.2-6.1). There is no mention of a singular bishop nor a distinction between the offices of bishop and presbyter. This suggests that the Philippian church was still governed by a plurality of presbyter-bishops and deacons, as in the first century (Phil 1:1), hence the “three-tier” structure wasn’t universal at that time.

    The Shepherd of Hermas, written in ca. AD 140, provides a window into the structure of the Roman church in this period. Hermas is told to write down his visions and “read the words in this city, along with the presbyters who preside over the Church” (Vis. 2.4.3). This suggests that at this time in Rome, the title “presbyter” was still used for the highest office. However, he also refers to “apostles, bishops, teachers, and deacons, who have lived in godly purity, and have acted as bishops and teachers and deacons chastely and reverently to the elect of God” (Vis. 3.5.1; cf. Simil. 9.25-27). There appears to have been a three-tier structure, then, with presbyter-bishops, teachers, and deacons! St Justin Martyr, on the other hand, only refers to a single “president” and multiple deacons, without an office between them, at one of the congregations in Rome around the same time (1 Apol 67). [16]

    Tertullian, who wrote from North Africa at the turn of the third century, refers to bishops, presbyters, and deacons as “persons in authority” (Fug 11.1; cf. Praescr 41.8; Monog 11.4). Despite his shaky relationship with the institutional Church, he acknowledges the apostolic origin of the episcopate, and regards it as important that bishops can trace their succession back to the apostles (Praescr 32; 36; Adv Marc 4.5). He denies, however, that bishops have the full authority of the apostles, since he doesn’t believe they can forgive grievous sins (Pudic 21). For Tertullian, the bishop has the primary right to baptize, but he can delegate this ability to presbyters and deacons, and even laity can baptize and celebrate the Eucharist in the absence of the “ecclesiastical order” (Bapt 17; Cast 7.3; cf. Idol 7.3). [17] The bishop has the ability to ordain, although Tertullian challenges one bishop’s decision to admit a woman to the order of “widow” (Virg 9.2).

    St Irenaeus was the bishop of Lyons in modern-day France around the same time, makes a distinction between the presbyters and the episcopate (Adv Haer 4.26.2). In fact, he assumes that this distinction goes back to the first century, and interprets Acts 20:17, 28 to mean that Paul was addressing both bishops and presbyters (3.14.2). He also assumes one bishop in each city, as shown by the lists he provides (see below). Even so, he uses “presbyter” and “bishop” interchangeably, while the context makes clear to which office he is referring (4.26.5). Irenaeus claims that both the bishops and presbyters have succession from the apostles (3.2-3; 4.26.2).

The bishops of the “apostolic sees”

    At the end of the second century, the proliferation of heresies meant that it was important to discern genuine apostolic doctrine. For the Church Fathers of this period, the answer was that there still exist churches that were founded by the apostles, whose leaders succeeded from them: if apostolic doctrine wasn’t found here, then it wasn’t found anywhere! (Tertullian, Praescr 32; 36; Adv Marc 4.5; Irenaeus, Adv Haer 3.2-3; Hegesippus in Eusebius, Church History 4.22) Hegesippus shows that this understanding was already present – and there was a single bishop in Corinth and Rome – as early as ca. AD 160. For this reason, lists of bishops in those cities showing their succession from the apostles began to be drawn up at that time.

    The first attested bishop list for Rome was made by St Hegesippus when St Anicetus was bishop there, and his reason for doing so is clear: “In every succession and in every city, the teaching of the Law and the Prophets and the Lord is held” (Eusebius, Church History 4.22.3). Irenaeus also provides a list of bishops in “the very great, very ancient, and universally known Church founded and organized at Rome by the two most glorious apostles, Peter and Paul” up to St Eleutherius, and implies that such lists were also known for the Asian churches (Adv Haer 3.3.2-4). He stresses that we should “hold in suspicion others who depart from the primitive succession and assemble themselves in any place at all” (4.26.2). Tertullian challenges the heretics to provide their own bishop lists, referring to an existing list at Smyrna which shows that Polycarp was ordained by John, and at Rome which shows that Clement was ordained by Peter (Praescr 32).

    Where did these bishop lists come from, since Rome wasn’t ruled by a single bishop until the mid-second century? I find it hard to believe that they were completely made up. It seems probable that a record was kept of which presbyters were ordained by which others, and when the episcopate narrowed to a single bishop, it was simply assumed that the current bishop’s lineage was a single succession. This would also make sense of the discrepancy between Tertullian, who says that Clement was ordained by Peter, and Irenaeus, who says that Clement was ordained by Linus who was ordained by Peter and Paul. Perhaps St Clement was ordained by both Sts Peter and Linus, who was in turn ordained by Sts Peter and Paul. On the other hand, in Asia and Syria where the monoepiscopate was of late first century origin, the bishop lists probably do record a single succession. [18]

Third Century

    In the third century, we find many more details about the distinction between and roles of the three major offices of the Church. Under the threat of persecution, and disagreements over how to respond to those who succumbed, we see schism arise as a major problem in the West. St Cyprian of Carthage’s response to this provides an important window into the ecclesiology of this period.

Ordination in the third-century Church

    The Apostolic Tradition is a third-century church order traditionally attributed to St Hippolytus of Rome (ca. AD 230), although this attribution is now doubtful. This text provides ordination prayers for bishops, presbyters, and deacons (2–3; 7–8). Notably, only bishops have the ability to ordain. For the ordination of a presbyter, together with the bishop, the other presbyters lay on their hands “because of a common spirit and common duty... the presbyter has only the authority to receive [ordination], but he has no authority to give it... Upon the ordination of the presbyter, he seals; the bishop ordains” (8.6-8). For the ordination of a bishop, multiple bishops lay their hands on him while the presbyters silently stand to the side (3.2-4). For the ordination of a deacon, only one bishop lays hands on him (8.1-5).

    According to the ordination prayer, the role of the bishop is “offering the gifts of your holy church [i.e., the Eucharist]; in the spirit of high priesthood having the ability to forgive sins according to your command” (3.4-5). If possible, everyone should take the Eucharist directly from the hand of the bishop (22.1). The presbyter’s prayer asks God to “impart the spirit of grace and wisdom of the presbyters, that he may help and guide your people with a pure heart” (7.2). The deacon “is not ordained to the priesthood, but to the service of the bishop... acts as a manager” (8.2-4). The presbyters and deacons are supposed to assemble each day, as far as possible, to teach the people (39).

    The Didascalia, a mid-third century church order from Syria, likewise states that the bishop is the one who ordains “presbyters as councillors and assessors, and deacons and sub-deacons” (2.34), while he himself is ordained by “the laying of hands” (2.2). The bishop is the antitype of the high priest, and the presbyters and deacons are priests and Levites, which stand in the place of God, the apostles, and Christ respectively (2.26). Hence nothing in the Church should be done apart from the bishop (2.27), and he is the one who baptizes, confirms, teaches, exhorts, and celebrates the Eucharist (2.33). Origen was “ordained as presbyter in Caesarea by the bishops of that country” (Eusebius, Church History 6.23). St Cyprian says that “the priest [i.e., bishop] should be chosen in the presence of the people” with the consent of all, and all the neighboring bishops should assemble there, that “the episcopate [may be] conferred on him and hands [may be] laid on him” (Letter 67.4-5).

Presbyterian ordination at Alexandria?

    In the third century, then, ordination was normally performed by the laying on of hands by bishops. However, a possible counter-example is the church at Alexandria in which, according to several later sources, the bishop was ordained by the council of presbyters. St Jerome says that “at Alexandria... until the episcopates of Heraclas and Dionysius [up to AD 264] the presbyters always named as bishop one of their number chosen by themselves and set in a more exalted position” (Letter 146.1). Ambrosiaster states, “in Alexandria and throughout all Egypt, if a bishop is absent, a presbyter appoints” (Quaestiones 101.5). Severus of Antioch, in the sixth century, asserts that the bishop of Alexandria “used to be appointed by presbyters” as an example of an ancient practice that shouldn’t be upheld. Finally, the tenth-century bishop Eutychius of Alexandria says that twelve presbyters chose one of their own number, and the other eleven laid hands on him and made him bishop, until the early fourth century!

    Even so, St Jerome and Ambrosiaster say that the presbyters “chose” (electum), “placed” (conlocatum), “named” (nominabant), and “appointed” (consignat) the bishop, but not that they actually “ordained” him. Jerome even says, directly after providing this anecdote, “For what function belongs to a bishop, except ordination, that does not belong to a presbyter?” The only one who actually describes a presbyterian ordination is Eutychius, who is far removed from this period (and disagrees with Jerome about how long the practice lasted). As such, I think it stretches the evidence too far to claim that presbyters in this period actually ordained the bishop of Alexandria. Instead, the presbyters chose one of their own to become bishop, and another bishop(s?) ordained – even if in some cases, as a later anecdote suggests, the bishop who ‘laid hands’ was the previous, deceased bishop. [19]

St Cyprian and the problem of schism

    With the onset of the Decian persecution in AD 250, many Christians sacrificed to the Roman gods (or obtained a certificate saying that they had) instead of being put to death. These Christians, who were referred to as lapsi, became the flash point of a major schism: the presbyter Novatian claimed that the lapsed could never rejoin the Church, whereas the ongoing practice was to allow them back after a period of penance, and he broke with the church in Rome and formed his own parallel hierarchy. The Novatian schism continued into the eighth century in the West. This schism was firmly opposed by St Cyprian of Carthage, along with the rest of the institutional Church, on ecclesiological grounds. [20]

    According to St Cyprian, the power given by Christ to St Peter, and later the rest of the apostles, to forgive sins has passed to their successor the bishop (Unit eccl 4–5; Letter 26.1; 72.7; 74.16-17; cf. 64.3). Therefore, the confessors have no authority to forgive the lapsi apart from the bishop (26.1-2). The bishop is also the source of unity in the Church (Unit eccl 5; Letters passim, esp 68.8), and “there should be one bishop in the catholic Church,” by which he means the local Church (45.2). The reason that Cyprian opposes Novatian is because Cornelius was legitimately ordained as the successor of with the consent of the people of Rome, and by setting himself up as another bishop of Rome, Novatian “has departed from the Church” (41–42; 51.8; 75.3-5). Novatian is to be regarded as Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, who set themselves up as priests in opposition to Aaron and his sons, and were punished by God (Unit eccl 10-18; Letters 67.3-4; 72.8; 75.8-9; cf. Num 16). He has an “adulterous throne” and a “profane altar” on which he offers “sacrilegious sacrifices opposed to the true priest [i.e., Cornelius]” (66.2; cf. 71.2; 75.1).

    St Cyprian became embroiled in a controversy with St Stephen, bishop of Rome, over whether those coming to the Church from the Novatian schism had to be re-baptized. Cyprian argued that both baptism and the Eucharist show forth the unity of the Church sacramentally, and hence schismatics who oppose the unity of the Church can’t have a valid baptism almost by definition (Unit eccl 11; Letters 69.1-2; 70.1-2; 72.2ff; 73.11; 75.2ff; cf. 62.13). Stephen argued that baptism is valid any time that it is performed in Jesus’ name, but the Holy Spirit can’t be given by schismatics, so anyone baptized by schismatics should not be rebaptized but only confirmed (De Rebaptismate). Cyprian’s view was agreed upon by the other bishops of Africa and Asia Minor (Letters 69; 71; 74; Eusebius, Church History 7.2-5). Despite this controversy, there doesn’t seem to have been disagreement about the underlying ecclesiology.

Fourth Century

    With the peace of the Church in the fourth century, the episcopate developed further and crystallized into the diocesan structure that still, more or less, exists today. Now that Christianity was a licit and imperially-endorsed religion, it also become possible for the first time to have an ecumenical council, where as many bishops as possible came together to decide on an issue.

The rise of the diocese and parish

    In the earliest days of the Church, the local congregation was headed by the bishop (see above, esp Ignatius of Antioch). This would have been more difficult when one bishop per city became standard in the second century, but there’s no indication that this situation ceased to become normative until the mid-third century. With the Decian persecution, many bishops were sent into exile, and they delegated their sacramental functions to their presbyters. This is well-documented in St Cyprian’s letters, where he tells his presbyters and deacons to “discharge... both your own office and mine,” and refers to the presbyters “who offer [i.e., the Eucharist] with the confessors” (Letter 4). However, he rebukes presbyters who claim the “entire authority” (of the bishop) and commune lapsi without his permission (8–9; 27). St Dionysius of Alexandria, in the same period, gave instruction to his presbyters that they could commune lapsi on their deathbeds (Letter to Fabian 11).

    At this point, it became more common for presbyters to celebrate the Eucharist and even to head their own local congregations with their own bishops, especially in rural areas (e.g., Cyprian, Letters 27.1; 74.10; Eusebius, Church History 7.24.6). However, we don’t see this become normative (at least in the cities) until the early fourth century. The Liber Pontificalis records that Marcellus I, bishop of Rome from 308–309, “appointed 25 parish churches in the city of Rome to provide baptism and penance” (31). The early fourth-century councils assume without discussion that a normal function of the presbyter is to offer the Eucharist (e.g., Ancyra 1; Neocaesarea 9, 13; Nicaea 18). The Council of Arles in 314 even records that some deacons were performing services, but resolves that this “should happen as little as possible.”

    With these changes, the ordination prayers for presbyters also changed, now referring to them along with the bishop as “priests,” and praying “that he may perform the sacred rites on behalf of your people” (Apostolic Constitutions 8.1, 16). Now that the presbyters normally performed the same sacraments as the bishop, the view arose that the presbytery and episcopate are essentially the same office – both have the “priesthood” – the only difference being that bishops can ordain (Jerome, Letter 146; Ambrosiaster, Quaestiones 101; John Chrysostom, Hom 1 Tim 11). [21] Thus, the bishop became primarily the overseer of an area, the diocese, while the presbyter oversaw the local congregation, the parish; a situation which still holds in the Church today.

The origin of the ecumenical council

    In the fourth century, bishops from across the Roman Empire met together for the first time in various councils to discuss theological and administrative questions. The two councils which came to be known as “ecumenical,” Nicaea I and Constantinople I, produced a creed which is still used by nearly all Christians today. But where did the idea of the ecumenical council come from? As early as St Ignatius of Antioch, the unity of the worldwide Church was tied to the fact that “the bishops settled in the farthest parts of the world are in the mind of Jesus Christ” (Eph 3.2). This was tested with various stresses in the mid-to-late second century, but even in the Quartodecimian controversy over the date of Pascha, St Anicetus of Rome invited St Polycarp of Smyrna to discuss the question, and allowed him to celebrate the Eucharist there as a show of unity despite not reaching an agreement (Eusebius, Church History 5.24.14-17).

    However, our first detailed records of councils don’t appear until the mid-third century with the lapsi controversy after the Decian persecution. In the view of St Cyprian, the bishop is the unity of the local Church, and the unity of the worldwide Church is the shared communion and agreement between all the bishops (Unit eccl 5, 12; Letters 56.1; 68.8; 75.5-6; cf. 7.3; 19; 31; 43). [22] This agreement is realized practically in regional councils of bishops (31; 51.6-7; 52.3). Cyprian’s letters document various councils in Africa, Rome, and Asia Minor regarding the lapsi and the rebaptism of schismatics (51.6; 53; 58; 71; 74). After his time, another documented council was held in Antioch in 268 which decided against the monarchian Christology of the bishop Paul of Samosata.

    It isn’t until the fourth century that we see the flourishing of the council. Right after the end of the Diocletianic persecution, in 314, there were councils in Arles, Ancyra, and Neocaesarea which ruled on various canonical and administrative issues. Due to the Arian controversy that ignited shortly afterward, the emperor Constantine invited all bishops in the Empire to Nicaea, where about 250 of them decided on a statement of faith (the Nicene Creed) and excommunicated Arius. This council also officially established the metropolitan bishop, who has authority over the other bishops in the region (canons 5-6), which was expanded upon by later councils (esp Antioch in 341). Nicaea wasn’t received by the entire worldwide Church until the late fourth century, but the idea of the ecumenical council certainly was present, and indeed goes back to the earliest days of the Church as we have seen. 

Conclusion

    In this post, we looked at the development of the Church’s structure from the second to the fourth centuries. Over this period the episcopate changed in some striking ways, such as the change from a more collective local church governance to the monoepiscopacy, and the rise of the diocesan and metropolitan systems. The Church’s self-understanding as the apostolic Church even developed over time, receiving very little attention from St Ignatius of Antioch and growing in emphasis with the rise of heresies and schisms. However, the basics of apostolic succession – that is, the existence of an office of bishop derived from the apostles, to which individuals are ordained via laying on hands of other bishops, which is closely tied to the Eucharist and the Church itself – remained in place from the very beginning. Thus, without judging on the validity of any other denomination, the Christian groups which today claim apostolic succession are indeed in closer continuity with the Church of the apostles.

______________________________

[13] St Ignatius’ martyrdom is traditionally dated to the reign of Trajan (98–117), based on the fourth-century Church historian Eusebius of Caesarea, but some scholars now locate his martyrdom decades later in the 140s.

[14] A combination of these views is also possible, for example, if the presbytery derived from itinerant teachers in some areas and from the episcopate in other areas. Another view is that the episkopē, which in the first century carried the functions of teaching and exhorting alongside performing the sacraments, came to be divided in the second century between episkopos who retained sacramental primacy and presbyteroi who retained teaching authority: John D. Zizioulas, “Episkopé and Episkopos in the Early Church. A Brief Survey of the Evidence,” Theological Studies 41 (1980): 30-42. Any of these views is still compatible with apostolic succession, based on the simple fact that an office with the power to ordain (i.e., the episcopate) could legitimately give rise to an office without power to ordain (i.e., the presbytery), while the opposite wouldn’t be (legitimately) possible.

[15] This structure of bishop = the Father, presbyters = apostles, deacons = Jesus Christ can be found in various other texts. For example, Polycarp later exhorts the Church in Philippi to regard their presbyter-bishops as the Father and their deacons as Jesus Christ (Phil 5.3). The third-century Didascalia (2.26) shares the same threefold identification as St Ignatius.

[16] There were multiple congregations in Rome at this point, according to the Martyrdom of Justin 2. Therefore, it seems likely that each congregation was led by a presbyter-bishop and several deacons, while some also had a separate office of teachers.

[17] Tertullian’s views on this topic likely changed throughout his life, as his relationship with the institutional Church grew more strained: David Rankin, Tertullian and the Church (Cambridge, 1995). Notably, his view that the bishops were the successors of the apostles did not change, even though (due to his rigorist tendencies) he denied their claim to have the ability to forgive sins that the apostles had.

[18] In fact, in Syria and Asia Minor, the monoepiscopate may have been of apostolic origin, since the bishop lists record that St Polycarp was appointed by the apostle John (e.g., Tertullian, Praescr 32), and based on the letters of St Ignatius we know that he was the sole bishop of Smyrna.

[19] For various perspectives on ordination in third-century Alexandria – and the very interesting anecdote about ordination by a deceased bishop laying on hands – see Charles Gore, “On the Ordination of the Early Bishops of Alexandria,” Journal of Theological Studies 3 (1902): 278-282; Eric Waldram Kemp, “Bishops and Presbyters at Alexandria,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History 6 (1955): 125-142; Alistair Stewart-Sykes, “Origen, Demetrius, and the Alexandrian Presbyters,” St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 48 (2004): 415-429.

[20] St Cyprian’s ecclesiology is well summed up in this statement: “Peter speaks there, on whom the Church was to be built, teaching and showing in the name of the Church, that although a rebellious and arrogant multitude of those who will not hear and obey may depart, yet the Church does not depart from Christ; and they are the Church who are a people united to the priest, and the flock which adheres to its pastor. Whence you ought to know that the bishop is in the Church, and the Church in the bishop; and if any one be not with the bishop, that he is not in the Church, and that those flatter themselves in vain who creep in, not having peace with God’s priests, and think that they communicate secretly with some; while the Church, which is Catholic and one, is not cut nor divided, but is indeed connected and bound together by the cement of priests who cohere with one another.” (Letter 68.8)

[21] On the emergence of the diocese and parish, see John D. Zizioulas, Eucharist, Bishop, Church: The Unity of the Church in the Divine Eucharist and the Bishop During the First Three Centuries (Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2001), 195-246.

[22] Whereas the agreement was realized via councils, the shared communion was realized as members of different local Churches could receive the Eucharist at other congregations with a letter from their bishop, and bishops (in the second and third centuries) regularly 'conceded' the celebration of the Eucharist to other bishops with whom they were in communion: John D. Zizioulas, Eucharist, Bishop, Church, 150-159.

Apostolic succession in the first century?

    Most Christians belong to a church that holds to some form of apostolic succession, including Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, Oriental Orthodox, Anglicans, and (in a sense) Lutherans. [1] In its strict sense, apostolic succession refers to the continuous chain of bishops ordained by laying on of hands stretching back to the apostles. The churches that claim apostolic succession typically believe that it is required to have valid (or at least assured) sacraments, and may or may not accept others’ claims to apostolic succession. For me, looking into these claims was one of the factors that ultimately led me to Eastern Orthodoxy.

    Apostolic succession is somewhat unique among Christian claims in that it requires an unbroken historical line back to the first century. It’s fairly easy to challenge this claim by arguing that ‘apostolic succession’ is a development that arose later than the apostles themselves, even if as early as the second century. In this post, I’ll try to show that, although the ministries of the church and the details of apostolic succession have indeed developed over time, crystallizing around the fourth century, the basic concept does go back to the first century.

Apostolic Succession

    First of all, what is apostolic succession? I want to define this term carefully so that I’m not trying to prove too much or too little. It seems to me that Protestants who oppose apostolic succession sometimes define it too narrowly, so that it’s impossible to find in the first few centuries of the Church. [2] Those who defend apostolic succession, on the other hand, sometimes define it so broadly that no one could possibly deny its existence in the New Testament, which makes the claim so weak that it’s almost meaningless.

    With this in mind, the claim that I’ll try to defend here is that there is a succession of bishops ordained by laying on of hands going back to the apostles, and the assured Eucharist (hence the assured Church) is intimately tied to these bishops. This claim has three parts: (1) the office of bishop as an office derived from the apostles; (2) ordination to this office via laying on of hands by other bishops, going back to the apostles; (3) the intimate connection between this office, the Eucharist, and the Church. This basic definition does not include:

  • The existence of other offices. Was the first century leadership of the Church “two tier” or “three tier”? Was presbyter always a distinct office from bishop? Although these questions are usually tied to the debate over apostolic succession, the claim itself only refers to the office of bishop, so to me they seem tangential.
  • The specific form of ordination. Is a bishop ordained by one other bishop, or by two or three? Are other offices (e.g., presbyter) also involved in the ordination? And so on. These questions are not essential to apostolic succession and potentially subject to development.
  • The exact manner in which bishop is tied to Eucharist and Church. Could other offices in the early Church preside over the Eucharist? Did this develop over time? That doesn’t necessarily affect the claim of apostolic succession.
  • Whether Christian communities without apostolic succession have a true Eucharist or true Church. I won’t talk about “valid” or “invalid” sacraments, but following St Ignatius of Antioch, an “assured” Eucharist (hence an “assured” Church). Apostolic succession assures us of the sacraments without necessarily rejecting others.
Nor does apostolic succession as such have any bearing on the question of papal supremacy: the claim doesn’t deal with St Peter specifically, the bishop of Rome, or the relationship between them. Although these issues are important for the Church, they aren’t the same as apostolic succession, and therefore apostolic succession may have begun in the first century even if these other aspects developed.

First Century

    Now that we’ve gotten definitions out of the way, let’s take a look at the historical evidence, starting with the first century. I will organize my thoughts according to the three parts of the claim of apostolic succession as I laid out above: the office of bishop, ordination to that office, and its role(s).

The offices of the first-century Church

    Jesus Christ himself is the basis for every office in the Church. He is the original apostle (John 13:16; Heb 3:1), priest (Heb 3:1; 4:14-15; 5:5-10; 7–10), prophet (Matt 21:11; John 6:14; Acts 3:20-23), teacher (Matt 23:8; John 3:2; 13:13), pastor (John 10:1-16; Heb 13:20; 1 Pet 2:25), deacon (Matt 20:28; Luke 22:27; Rom 15:8), and bishop (1 Pet 2:25). [3] These offices, at least some of them, passed down to the apostles, who are referred to as prophets (Acts 13:1?), teachers (Acts 13:1; 1 Cor 4:17; 1 Tim 2:7; 2 Tim 1:11), pastors (John 21:15-17; 1 Cor 9:1-7), deacons (Acts 1:17; 1 Cor 3:5; 2 Cor 6:4; Eph 3:7; Col 1:23-25), presbyters (1 Pet 5:1; 2 John 1:1; 3 John 1:1), and bishops (Acts 1:20).

    In his letters, St Paul gives several lists of gifts or offices in the first-century Church. The gifts of grace that he mentions to the Romans are prophecy, ministry (diakonia), teaching, exhortation, giving, leading, and showing mercy (Rom 12:6-8). He says to the Corinthians that God has appointed in the Church apostles, teachers, prophets, miracle workers, healers, helpers, administrators, and those who speak in tongues (1 Cor 12:28-31). Later he mentions five specific offices: apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Eph 4:11-12). Paul doesn’t include deacons, presbyters and bishops among these charismatic offices, which suggests that they weren’t carefully distinguished at this stage. [4] However, he refers to Phoebe as a deaconess in Cenchrea (Rom 16:1), and addresses one of his letters to “all the saints in Christ Jesus in Philippi, with the bishops and deacons” (Phil 1:1).

    With the charismatic offices of prophet, teacher, etc., the two offices of the first-century local Church were bishop and deacon. The office of deacon was established when waiting on the communal tables became too much for the apostles, and they delegated “waiting tables” (diakonein trapezais) to six people who were chosen by the community (Acts 6:1-6). [5] Sts Barnabas and Paul “appointed presbyters in each church” on their mission through Asia Minor (Acts 14:23). Presbyter and bishop were co-referring terms in the first-century Church, as shown by, among other texts, Paul’s statement to the Ephesian presbyters that “the Holy Spirit has made you bishops” (Acts 20:17, 28). [6] Every first-century text that describes offices of the first-century local Church refers to bishops and deacons, but never the “three-tier” structure of bishops, presbyters, and deacons (Phil 1:1; 1 Tim 3:1-13; Didache 15.1; 1 Clem 42.4-5).

    After the ascension of Jesus, the apostles choose someone to replace Judas, to succeed to his “apostleship,” “ministry” (diakonia, lit. “diaconate”), and, quoting Psalm 108/109:8,  “office” (episkopē, lit. “episcopate”). They cast lots, and Matthias is chosen as the twelfth apostle (Acts 1:15-26). This passage, in fact, does not show apostolic succession as defined above: Matthias is appointed an apostle, not a bishop, there is no mention of laying on of hands, and no connection to the Eucharist. Furthermore, the main criterion for Matthias’ apostleship – that he served Jesus from the beginning (1:21-22) – isn’t possible beyond the first century. What it does show is that “episcopate” (and “diaconate”!) were included in apostleship, and it illustrates the principle of succession, which are important components of apostolic succession.

Ordination in the first-century Church

    The first deacons and presbyters in the Church were ordained by the apostles themselves (Acts 6:1-6; 14:23). In the case of the deacons, they were chosen by the whole community, and the apostles “prayed and laid hands on them” (6:5-6). The Didache agrees that it is up to the congregation to “choose for yourselves bishops and deacons who are worthy of the Lord” (15.1). It also provides criteria for discerning genuine teachers, apostles, and prophets, thereby subordinating these itinerant ministries to the local congregation (11–13). St Clement of Rome, in the later first century, says that bishops and deacons were initially appointed by the apostles, and “afterward by other reputable men with the consent of the whole Church” (1 Clem 42.4-5; 44.2).

    St Paul tells St Timothy to “rekindle the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of my hands” (2 Tim 1:6), which also “was given to you through prophecy with the laying on of hands of the presbytery” (1 Tim 4:14). [7] Timothy is given lists of qualifications for bishops and deacons (1 Tim 3:1-13), and told not to “lay hands on anyone hastily” (5:22; cf. Titus 1:5). We can conclude that presbyters and deacons were chosen by the whole local Church and ordained via prayer and laying on of hands by the apostles and/or other presbyters. Prayer and laying on of hands also took place for other purposes than ordination in the first century, such as confirmation after baptism (Acts 8:14-18; 19:1-7), sending on a specific mission (13:2-3), and anointing of the sick (Jas 5:14-15), which were also performed by apostles and/or other presbyters.

The role of the bishop in the first-century Church

    The clearest descriptions of the roles of presbyter/bishop in the first century are found in the pastoral epistles. [8] St Timothy’s duties included commanding, teaching, exhorting, publicly reading Scripture (4:10-14), maintaining apostolic teaching (2 Tim 1:12-14) and passing it on to faithful people who will pass it on to others (2:1-2). St Titus was told to appoint presbyters in each town to exhort and teach sound doctrine (Titus 1:5-9; cf. 2:1). In the book of Acts, at the council of Jerusalem, the presbyters appear to be on equal footing with the apostles (15:1-29). Presbyters are supposed to anoint, pray over, and lay hands on sick believers (Jas 5:14-15). Furthermore, as we’ve already seen, ordination took place with laying on of hands by presbyters (1 Tim 4:14; 5:22; cf. 1 Clem 44:1-2).

    Public reading of Scripture, exhortation, and teaching would have happened at the communal gathering and meal of the early Christian community. Since this gathering was the central locus of Christian unity and activity (e.g., 1 Cor 10–14), the episkopoi would be “overseers” primarily of this banquet, although itinerant apostles, prophets, and teachers could also lead the first-century Church gathering. [9] According to the Didache, the bishops and deacons “perform for you the service of prophets and teachers” (15.1-2), which included, alongside exhorting and teaching, praying the Eucharist (10.7; cf. 11.9).

    1 Clement, written shortly after the death of Sts Peter and Paul (5–6), provides an important window into the office of bishop in the immediate post-apostolic era. The church at Corinth had apparently removed some (or all) of their presbyters without due process (1.1ff; 44.5-47.7). St Clement writes that, in the old covenant, God commanded sacrifices to be done in an orderly manner, at fixed times, with the proper services being performed by the high priest, priests, and Levites; and those who controverted this order were punished by death (40.1-41.3). Likewise, the apostles were sent by Christ, who was sent by God, and they appointed bishops and deacons in every town, just as Moses had appointed the descendants of Aaron to be priests (42–43).

    But the apostles knew that “there would be strife over the office of bishop” (44.1). Therefore, they arranged that “if they should die, other approved men should succeed in their service” (44.2). Now the Corinthians have unjustly removed “these, who were appointed by [the apostles] or by other reputable men with the consent of the whole Church” (44.3). [10] Clement tells them, “It is no light sin for us if we remove those who have offered the gifts of the episcopate blamelessly and in holiness” (44.4). This reference to “offering the gifts of the episcopate,” along with the analogy to Israelite priests that he gave earlier, shows that the office of bishop was closely tied to the sacrifice of the Eucharist (cf. 1 Cor 10:16-21; Didache 14). Therefore, St Clement exhorts the church in Corinth to re-submit themselves to the presbyters that they removed (57.1-59.2).

Other considerations

    According to the basic definition that I gave above, apostolic succession was definitely present in the first-century Church. There was indeed an office of bishop, which was derived from the authority of the apostles. People were ordained to this office by laying on of hands by the apostles, or by other bishops who were ordained by the apostles. This office was closely tied to the communal gathering and Eucharist, such that it was a great sin to unjustly remove a bishop. In the first century, this office was referred to as both “episcopate” and “presbytery,” and individuals in this office could be called “bishop” or “presbyter,” in contrast to the later distinction of two offices by these names.

    It’s clear that first-century Church leadership was “two-tier” (i.e., bishops and deacons) rather than “three-tier” (i.e., bishops, presbyters, and deacons). Although there were other offices in the Church, such as prophets and teachers, we only find two offices that were connected to the local body, the bishops or presbyters and deacons. [11] In fact, the distinction between bishop and presbyter and the “two-tier” vs. “three-tier” structure of the Church are secondary to the central issue of apostolic succession, which deals only with the office of bishop. [12] Therefore, it’s perfectly consistent to accept both apostolic succession and the fact that the first-century Church had a “two-tier” structure.

    At least in some cases, such as first-century Philippi and Ephesus, it’s clear that there were multiple bishops in a city (Acts 20:17, 28; Phil 1:1). The apostles appointed “presbyters in each church” (Acts 14:23), and St Titus was told to “appoint presbyters in each city” (Titus 1:5), which suggests but doesn’t require multiple presbyters per church and city. On the other hand, one bishop is mentioned alongside multiple deacons in the church (1 Tim 3). Given that there were at least some cities with multiple bishops, it’s unclear whether they each headed a different gathering, or they acted collectively as a council over one gathering, or one of them had authority over the others, or some combination of these. My own guess is that the structure of the first-century episcopate varied across time and place, and that there were probably multiple gatherings in many cities, since only a fairly small number of people could fit in the dining rooms where these gatherings were held.

    I’d like to continue looking at the development of the offices of the Church, and the continuation of apostolic succession, across the first few centuries. However, this post is already getting too long! I’ll save the second (through fourth?) centuries for next time.

______________________________

[1] This makes up a little less than 75% of Christians worldwide based on online statistics. With regard to Lutheranism, the Church of Sweden claims episcopal apostolic succession, while other Lutherans hold to presbyterian succession.

[2] For example, this Anabaptist article includes the monarchical episcopate and even conciliar authority in its definition of apostolic succession! The claim defended here only includes (2) and (4) of the definition in the linked article, namely, that bishops are ordained by other bishops in a direct line from the apostles, and this is important because it assures valid ordination and the true Church. Other issues are tangential to this basic claim.

[3] The Greek term diakonos refers to a servant or minister, presbyteros to an elder, and episkopos to an overseer. From the first century, these terms came to be used in the Church to refer to specific ecclesial ministries, but without losing their original meaning. The English words “deacon,” “presbyter,” and “bishop” which refer to these specific ministries are transliterations of the Greek words. To make matters more confusing, the English word “priest” is a shortened version of “presbyter,” but it corresponds to a different word in Greek (hiereus) which wasn’t used to refer to any Church ministry in the first century. “Priest” was later used for bishops, and only in the fourth century came to be used for presbyters when this ministry came to be closely associated with the offering of the Eucharist in the local parish.

In this post, I will use “deacon,” “presbyter,” and “bishop” respectively to translate these Greek words (and cognates), in order to emphasize the continuity with the official ministries of the Church in the second century and beyond. However, it’s still important to recognize that diakonos and episkopos can apply (in a less technical sense) to every office, and indeed every believer, since we all – especially our leaders – are called to be servants of one another (Matt 20:25-28; John 12:26; 1 Cor 12:4-6; 1 Tim 4:6) and overseers of our own salvation (Gal 6:1; Phil 2:4).

[4] It’s possible that diakonia in Romans 12:7 refers specifically to the office of deacon, but this seems unlikely to me; given the context, Paul is likely referring to ministry in general.

[5] Tradition regards these six men, including St Stephen, as the first deacons. Note that their ministry is referred to as diakonia twice in this passage, and one of the primary meanings of diakonos is one who waits tables (cf. John 2:5, 9), so the identification of these six as the first deacons is self-evident.

[6] The modern consensus that “presbyter” and “bishop” were the same office in the first century was established by J. B. Lightfoot, The Christian Ministry (Macmillan and Co. Ltd., 1901). This is clear not only from Acts 20:17-38 but also Titus 1:5-9; 1 Peter 5:1-2; and 1 Clement 42ff.

[7] “The laying on of hands of the presbytery” might mean that the presbyters laid hands on St Timothy, or that this laying on of hands (by Paul alone?) ordained him to the presbytery. Either way, 1 Tim 4:14 and 5:22 together indicate that presbyters ordained others by laying on hands.

[8] Whether the pastoral epistles (1 & 2 Timothy, Titus) were written by St Paul or someone else under his name, the “two tier” view of Church leadership described there is more primitive than the “three tier” leadership found later. Since the “three tier” model is attested by St Ignatius of Antioch as being prevalent in Asia Minor already at the beginning of the second century, the fact that the pastoral epistles describe a “two tier” model in Ephesus implies that they date to the first century.

[9] Valeriy A. Aliykin, The Earliest History of the Christian Gathering: Origin, Development and Content of the Christian Gathering in the First to Third Centuries (Brill, 2010), 69-72.

[10] The grammar of this passage isn’t perfectly clear. “If they should die” could refer to the apostles, in which case this shows that there was an office that succeeded from the apostles (presumably bishop), or it could refer to the bishops and deacons, in which case it only shows a continuation of those offices. If the “other reputable men” are the same as the “other approved men,” then St Clement indicates that bishops and deacons were ordained by other bishops who succeeded from the apostles. Due to the ambiguity, the only thing that this passage says for sure is, as I will show, that the office of bishop was intimately tied with the Eucharist.

[11] A handful of scholars have argued for a “three-tier” structure in the first-century Church, such as Felix L. Cirlot, Apostolic Succession: Is It True? (1949). Cirlot admits that “bishop” and “presbyter” referred to the same people in the first-century, but argues that there was a third office in addition to bishop and deacon, which alone had the ability to ordain (including Sts Timothy and Titus and the “other approved men” of 1 Clement 44), and later “bishop” came to refer to this office. This has been rejected by most scholars, and to me it seems very implausible that this extremely important office of the earliest Church would be given no title (Cirlot refers to them as “deutero-Apostles”).

[12] Against, e.g., Gavin Ortlund, “apostolic succession usually involves four tenets: (1) the office of bishop is distinct from the office of presbyter/elder jure divino (by divine right), with those in the former office specifically designated as the successors of the apostles; (2) bishops exercise regional jurisdiction in an overarching hierarchical unity; (3) valid episcopal succession subsists via the laying on of hands from one bishop to another; (4) apart from valid apostolic succession, there is normally no valid ordained ministry (holy orders) and thus no efficacious sacraments (with baptism as the frequent exception),” Twitter, January 31, 2024, 10:36pm, https://x.com/gavinortlund/status/1752898727231070373

What "church" looked like in the early Church: Fourth century

Third Century

    In my past few posts, I have shared what I’ve been learning about the development of the church gathering during the first three centuries. Here we’ll look at how the liturgy developed in the fourth century, when the Church was able to regularly, openly gather in public for the first time. During this period parts of the liturgy crystallized into their final form: for example, the anaphoras of St Basil and St John Chrysostom, which were written in the late 4th century, are still widely used in the Eastern Church. The main texts I will use here are the Apostolic Constitutions 2.57; 8.5-15; the Travels of Egeria; Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures 22–23; Ambrose of Milan, On the Sacraments 4.5-6.4; Theodore of Mopsuestia, Baptismal Homily 5.

Where?

    After Christianity was declared a licit Roman religion in 313, worship moved into more public spaces, especially basilicas, which were used for civic assemblies. [43] These buildings had a large central nave – a large rectangular area often flanked by columns – and a semicircular apse at one end. The altar and the throne from which the bishop preached were usually in the center, although later they moved to the apse. [44] There were mosaics on the walls and ceiling of the basilica, usually depicting narrative scenes from the Old and New Testaments, and the semicircular ceiling of the apse had a mosaic of Christ in the center with various saints surrounding him (see especially Santa Costanza in Rome). [45]

    The Apostolic Constitutions, a late 4th-century Syrian church order which expands on the earlier Didascalia, describes how an ideal church building should be laid out:

First let the building be long, turned toward the east, with the vestries on each side at the east end, so it will be like a ship. Let the bishop’s throne be placed in the middle, and let the presbyters sit on each side of him, and let the deacons stand nearby in close-fitting garments, for they are like the mariners and managers of the ship. With regard to these, let the laity sit on the other side, with all quietness and good order... Let the reader stand on some high place in the middle. (2.57)

    Like in the third century, church buildings were to be oriented to the East to facilitate standing prayer ad orientem (cf. Apostolic Constitutions 2.57.14; Basil, On the Holy Spirit 27.66). However, we can also see some clear developments. For example, there are vestries (pastophoria), rooms dedicated for the clergy’s vestments. There is also a raised floor for the reader to stand on while reading the Scriptures, which we don’t see in any third-century text. The Church also saw new rituals imported from Roman civic life, such as the use of incense, which is first documented in the late 4th-century travel diary of the pilgrim Egeria (24.10). [46] For that matter, the fourth century is the first time that we see an interest in pilgrimage to holy sites for worship, as exemplified by Egeria herself.

When?

    Sunday morning was still the primary time for the eucharistic gathering in the fourth-century Church, along with some Saturdays (e.g., Apostolic Constitutions 2.59; 5.20; 7.23, 30; 8.33). During the fourth century, churches also began having prayer services without the Eucharist in the morning and evening on weekdays. [47] This practice is documented by Eusebius of Caesarea (Comm Ps 64), St Basil (Letter 207.3), and Egeria (Travels 24.1-7; 25.5), among others. The Apostolic Constitutions (8.34-39) outlines what took place at these daily gatherings: the morning or evening psalm was read, then the catechumens and other groups were dismissed, the bishop offered the prayer of thanksgiving, and blessed and dismissed the faithful.

    The fourth century also saw the full blossoming of the liturgical calendar. [48] Apostolic Constitutions lists the Nativity (25 Dec), the Epiphany (6 Jan), Lent (fasting Mon-Fri for 40 days), Holy Week (fasting Mon-Sat), Pascha, Thomas Sunday (7 days after Pascha), Ascension (40 days after Pascha), and Pentecost (50 days after Pascha) in its calendar (5.13, 18-20). The debate over the date of Pascha was finally put to rest by the Council of Nicaea in 325, in favor of the Roman practice of celebrating on Sunday. Canon 20 of Nicaea also formalizes the practice of standing, rather than kneeling, for prayer on Sunday and on all the days between Pascha and Pentecost (cf. Basil, On the Holy Spirit 27.66).

Who?

    With the peace of the Church, there was a huge influx of converts who were not as knowledgeable about their faith or deeply committed as earlier generations of believers. This led to an increase in the number not only of catechumens, but also penitents – baptized Christians who couldn’t commune at a certain time due to sin – and non-believers who attended church services (“hearers”). Still, only baptized believers could take the Eucharist, and clergy emphasized the need for repentance and salvation for communion to one’s benefit (e.g., John Chrysostom, Hom Eph 3.4). [49] Therefore, an elaborate series of dismissals between the sermon and eucharistic prayers developed in the fourth century (Apostolic Constitutions 8.6-9). These dismissals (missa) may be the reason that the liturgy came to be known as Missa (“Mass”) in the Latin-speaking West. [50]

    As the Christian population grew, the former ideal (at least in the East) of one church in each city under one bishop became less possible to sustain. The bishop gradually became the overseer of a diocese with multiple parishes, each with a presbyter who offered the Eucharist under his authority. This began in the third century, as we find an example in St Cyprian (Letter 27) and learn from the Liber Pontificalis that there were 25 parishes in Rome by AD 309. In the fourth century, however, this arrangement increasingly became the norm even in the East.

    Early 4th-century councils state or imply that presbyters offer the Eucharist without condemning this practice (e.g., Ancyra 1; Neocaesarea 9, 13; Nicaea 18). The Council of Arles in 314 says that even deacons were performing services, but resolves that this “should happen as little as possible.” The Apostolic Constitutions refers to both the presbyters and the bishop as “priests” (8.1), and in its ordination prayer for a presbyter, “that he may perform the sacred rites” (8.16). At the end of the fourth century, St John Chrysostom (Hom 1 Tim 11) and St Jerome (Letter 146.1), among others, state that the only difference between a bishop and a presbyter is that the former can ordain. [51] Thus, the parish with its presbyter became the foundational ecclesial unit during this period, but only within the diocese under the authority of the bishop.

What?

    The rise in converts had two major effects on the events of the eucharistic gathering: (1) the liturgy became in part a catechetical tool, to help instruct new believers in the faith, and (2) many believers began to receive the Eucharist less often, because they were less prepared. [52] St Ambrose of Milan wrote against the practice of communing once per year, which he noted to be widespread in the East, in favor of daily communion (On the Sacraments 6.24-25). St John Chrysostom frequently complains about disorder and irreverent behavior during liturgy in the church at Constantinople (e.g., Hom Matt 19.7-9; 73.3; Hom John 3.1; Hom Acts 24.4). This also led to instructions by the deacons during the liturgy, such as “Let us stand,” “Let us bow down,” etc., as seen for the first time in multiple texts from this period.

    The fourth-century church gathering began an opening greeting from the priest and response from the congregation. The readings from Scripture, which varied across time and place, then immediately began. In late 4th-century Syria, there were two readings from the Old Testament, followed by a reading from Acts or Paul’s letters, and a deacon would read from the gospels (Apostolic Constitutions 2.57). These readings were followed by the sermon, and if the bishop and multiple presbyters were present, they might each deliver a sermon (Ibid.; Travels of Egeria 25.1-2, 10; 26; 27.6; 42; 43.2). The deacon then exhorted hearers and unbelievers to leave, and the priest prayed over the catechumens, possessed, and penitents before dismissing them (Apostolic Constitutions 2.57; 8.5-9). Then the deacon offered intercessory prayers for the world, the church, the clergy, all believers, and anyone in need, and the priest prayed over the faithful, followed by the kiss of peace (8.9-11). [53]

    Once the catechumens and other non-communicants departed, the deacons brought the bread and cup for the priest to consecrate. During this period, the eucharistic prayers began to crystallize into familiar patterns. In the Antiochene and Byzantine prayers, there was an initial dialogue → preface (giving thanks to God for who he is) → Sanctus hymn (“holy, holy, holy”) → anamnesis (remembering God’s works, concluding with the “words of institution”) → epiclesis (praying the Holy Spirit to descend on the gifts) → intercessions for the living and the dead → doxology. East Syrian and Alexandrian prayers had the same structure, but with the intercessions before the epiclesis and the Sanctus respectively. [54] The Roman prayers lacked the Sanctus unit and had the intercessions before the anamnesis. [55] These are the same structures still used in both the West and the East.

    After the eucharistic prayers, the deacon would offer more intercessory prayers (Apostolic Constitutions 8.12-13). The congregation then prayed the Lord’s Prayer (Catechetical Lectures 23.11-18; On the Sacraments 5.18-30), which in the East was followed by the exclamation, “The holy things are for the holy,” with the response, “One is holy, one is Lord, Jesus Christ” (Apostolic Constitutions 8.13; Catechetical Lectures 23.19), or, “One holy Father, one holy Son, one holy Spirit” (Baptismal Homily 5.22-23). The communicants would then come up in order and receive the Eucharist, perhaps while Psalm 33/34 (“Taste and see that the Lord is good”) was chanted (Apostolic Constitutions 8.13; Catechetical Lectures 23.20). The service would end with a prayer of thanksgiving and the dismissal (Apostolic Constitutions 8.14-15; Baptismal Homily 5.29).

Why?

    As I noted above, the liturgy during the fourth century took on a catechetical function in addition to its main purpose. We also have a few commentaries on the liturgy from this period that draw out the meaning of the prayers (Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures 22–23; Ambrose of Milan, On the Sacraments 4–6; Theodore of Mopsuestia, Baptismal Homily 5). In order to understand the “why” of the fourth-century liturgy in detail, it would be best to read these texts. Of course, the main purpose of the liturgy according to these writers is still the Eucharist itself. They offer arguments for the real presence of Christ in the sacrament (Catechetical Lectures 22; On the Sacraments 4.14-28; 6.1-4).

    One of the best expositions of the fourth-century view of the Eucharist is St Gregory of Nyssa’s Catechetical Oration 37. Because the human is a composite of soul and body, salvation must involve bodily union with God as well as spiritual (37.1-3). According to physiology, the body comes into union with something by consuming it (37.4-7). For this reason, the Word of God makes bread that we eat into his body, by his word, “This is my body,” and wine that we drink into his blood (37.8-11). Thus, “the God who was made manifest [i.e., Christ]... in order that humanity might be deified by communion with the divinity... mixes with the bodies of the faithful so that, by union with the immortal, man might become a partaker of incorruption” (37.12). If I were to summarize Gregory’s argument somewhat crudely: you are what you eat, and so by his grace, we eat God.

     The fourth-century Church Fathers continue to understand the Eucharist as a sacrifice, and even more explicitly as Christ’s own sacrifice: “we offer Christ sacrificed for our sins” (Catechetical Lectures 23.10; cf. Ambrose, Exp Ps xii 38.25; John Chrysostom, Hom Heb 17.3). [56] The eucharistic prayers from this period and afterward all refer to the sacrament as a sacrifice. Going back to the second century, as early as St Ignatius of Antioch, the Eucharist is seen as the means of bodily salvation by which the human is made immortal. With the greater reflection on Christ’s divinity in the fourth century,  we see an even stronger emphasis that partaking of the body and blood of Christ is the way that the human being is bodily deified (e.g., Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures 22.3; Gregory of Nyssa, Catechetical Oration 37).

Reconstruction

    In this last section, I’ll try to reconstruct what a liturgy celebrated in the late fourth-century Antiochene rite might have looked like, since those are our most detailed sources from this period. I suspect this will look very familiar to Christians who use the Byzantine rite today (whether Catholic or Orthodox), but keep in mind that there were also East Syrian and Roman rites during this period, which are also still used today with some modifications in those traditions!

  • On a Sunday morning, you enter the basilica in your city with a large crowd – hundreds to thousands of other people. The deacons guide each person to their place, all facing toward the eastern apse.
  • The priest enters the church and takes his place in front of the altar. Facing toward the crowd, he greets everyone, “The Lord be with you all,” to which you respond, “And with your spirit.”
  • Right after this, the reader stands on a high place in the center of the building and begins to read the day’s excerpts from the Old Testament. He then reads an excerpt from one of Paul’s letters. When the deacon takes the place of the reader, most of you stand reverently as he reads the gospel.
  • You sit down again as the priest gives his sermon, explaining the meaning of the Scriptures that were just read, how they fit together, and exhorting everyone to take to heart and live out the words that you have just heard.
  • When the sermon is finished, you all stand as the deacon takes his place again, proclaiming, “Let none of the hearers and unbelievers remain.” He exhorts the catechumens to pray and for you all to pray for them, and the priest lays his hands on them and prays for them, then they are dismissed. The same is repeated for the penitents in the crowd.
  • After everyone but the faithful have been dismissed, the deacon leads a litany for the peace of the world, for the church and its unity, for the bishops and clergy, for all the faithful, and for everyone in need. With each petition, you pray silently, “Lord have mercy.”
  • Once the litany is completed, the priest prays for all the faithful who are present. He says, “Peace be with you all,” and you respond, “And with your spirit,” then give the kiss of peace to the other believers around you.
  • The deacons bring the bread and the cup to the altar, along with water for the priest to wash his hands. He makes the sign of the cross on his forehead, saying, “The grace of God, the love of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.” You respond, “And with your spirit.” “Lift up your hearts.” “We lift them up to the Lord.” “Let us give thanks to the Lord.” “It is good and right to do so.”
    • The priest begins the eucharistic prayer by giving thanks to God the Father for who he is, for his great goodness, that he made all things by his Son, that he is surrounded by innumerable hosts of angels who sing (and the people sing with them): “Holy, holy, holy, Lord of hosts, heaven and earth are full of his glory, who is blessed forever. Amen.”
    • The priest recalls in prayer what God has done for us in history, culminating in his Son’s taking flesh and being crucified for us, in the night on which he was betrayed taking bread and saying, “This is my body,” and the mixed cup and saying, “This is my blood.”
    • The priest continues, remembering Christ’s passion, death, resurrection, ascension, and second coming, and offering the bread and cup to God, he asks that God would send the Holy Spirit upon the offering to show them to be the body and blood of Christ. He prays intercession for various groups of people, including all the believers present, and he concludes with a doxology. You respond, “Amen.” “The peace of God be with you all.” “And with your spirit.”
  • Having finished the eucharistic prayers, the deacon leads another litany for the offering itself, for the church, the clergy, everyone in authority, and all the faithful.
  • After this, the priest prays again for everyone present, and you with the rest of the congregation pray the Lord’s Prayer. The priest proclaims, “The holy things are for the holy,” and you respond, “One is holy, one is Lord, Jesus Christ, who is blessed forever to the glory of God the Father.”
  • Everyone who is partaking comes forward to take the Eucharist as Psalm 33 (“Taste and see that the Lord is good”) is chanted. When your turn comes, you go up to the priest, who says, “The body of Christ,” and you reverently receive the body in your hand, careful not to lose any crumbs, responding, “Amen.”
  • You turn to the deacon who holds the cup, who gives you a sip, saying, “The blood of Christ.” You respond, “Amen,” careful not to spill a drop. You press your hand to your still-wet lips and make the sign of the cross on your forehead. You know that this is the medicine of immortality, which unites you bodily to Christ and makes you a member of his own Body.
  • Once everyone has partaken, the deacon thanks God for giving us this sacrament, and prays that it would be for salvation rather than condemnation. The priest also offers a prayer of thanksgiving.
  • Finally, the deacon proclaims, “Bow down and receive the blessing.” You incline your neck as the priest blesses you all, asking God to protect you in soul and body. The deacon says, “Depart in peace,” and you leave with the rest of the faithful to return home, bringing Christ himself with you bodily out into the world to sanctify it.

Conclusion

     If anyone has actually read this far, I hope you enjoyed this series of posts! It was a fun change of pace for me to try to reconstruct what “church” itself looked like during the first few centuries, and I definitely learned a lot in researching this topic. I hope I’ve made it clear that these reconstructions aren’t necessarily accurate – especially in the first two centuries, we only have scattered testimonies about the church gathering, and my reconstruction assumes more uniformity than there likely was. Still, I tried to be careful only to include information that we find in the primary sources from these centuries.

    I think it’s important to notice both the familiarity and foreignness of the early church liturgy, especially in the first two centuries. One might be tempted to look only at the similarities with one’s own tradition, but this would be a mistake. For example, as far as I know, the deipnon-symposion structure of the first century church gathering isn’t found in any Christian tradition today!

    Even so, by the fourth century, the liturgy had mostly crystallized into the forms still found in various Christian rites. This was one of the things that spurred my own journey from restorationist Protestantism to more liturgical Christianity and ultimately to Eastern Orthodoxy. I believe that the history of the Christian liturgy shows us both that there is a wider range of genuine Christian expression than sometimes recognized, and that liturgy developed for a reason, thus we should be cautious about changing it, or worse, abandoning it entirely.

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[43] Metzger, History of the Liturgy, 73-77; Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 61-62.

[44] Metzger, History of the Liturgy, 76.

[45] Jensen and Ellison, Routledge Handbook of Early Christian Art, 86-103.

[46] Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 62.

[47] Bradshaw, Origins of Christian Worship, 171-178; Metzger, History of the Liturgy, 89-92.

[48] Bradshaw, Origins of Christian Worship, 182-190; Metzger, History of the Liturgy, 109-111.

[49] Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 66.

[50] Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 74-75.

[51] John D. Zizioulas, Eucharist, Bishop, Church: The Unity of the Church in the Divine Eucharist and the Bishop During the First Three Centuries (Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2001), 205-217.

[52] Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 62-69.

[53] Metzger, History of the Liturgy, 78-80; Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 72-75.

[54] Metzger, History of the Liturgy, 81-82; Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 75-101, 111-129. For fourth-century examples of the Antiochene structure, see Apostolic Constitutions 8.12, St Cyril of Jerusalem’s Catechetical Lecture 23.4-10, and the anaphoras of St Basil and St John Chrysostom (still in use today). For the East Syrian structure, see the anaphora of Addai and Mari and of St Peter (both also in use today). For the Alexandrian structure, see the Prayers of Sarapion of Thmuis and the Strasbourg Papyrus.

[55] Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 101-109. The only fourth-century source for the Roman anaphora, as far as I’m aware, is St Ambrose of Milan’s On the Sacraments 4.21-29.

[56] Bradshaw and Johnson, The Eucharistic Liturgies, 129-132.

The orthodox doctrine of the Incarnation (part 1 of 3)

    A few months ago, I attempted to explain the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity by drawing on the first- through eighth-century patristic ...