ON THE DOGMA OF REDEMPTION
Vladimir Moss
Contents
Conclusion: Love and Justice……………………………………………59
He wiped out our debt, by paying for us a most admirable and precious ransom. We are all made free through the blood of the Son, which pleads for us to the Father.
I
have in front of me a document entitled “Resolution of the Sacred Synod of the
True Orthodox Church of Greece concerning The Dogma of Redemption by
Metropolitan Anthony Khrapovitsky”.[1]
The
first point which needs to be made about this document is that the title is a
misnomer. The bishops who wrote it do not belong to the True Orthodox Church of
Greece, but to what they previously called “The Holy Orthodox Church in
The second point is that only a small section of this document (23 pages out of 102) is devoted directly to an examination of Metropolitan Anthony’s thesis, its truth or heresy. The rest, though not without some relevant passages, is mainly devoted to a series of subtle and very detailed character assassinations directed at all the best-known critics of Metropolitan Anthony’s thesis. Since so much space is devoted to this, we are forced to make a few comments on it before analyzing the strictly dogmatical arguments.
To what degree are the failings of a man,
real or imagined, relevant to an assessment of his theological views on a
certain subject? Is it relevant, for example, to an evaluation of Archbishop
Theophan of
Somewhat more relevant is the fact – if it is a fact – that the man is a
heretic in other areas. Thus the Bostonite bishops’ attempt to show that
another critic of Metropolitan Anthony, Fr. George Florovsky, is an ecumenist is
relevant; for the authority of a man depends directly on the degree of his
Orthodoxy, and if he is a heretic, then he is not a patristic authority. At the
same time, we must be careful not to throw the baby out with the bathwater. The
fact that a man is an ecumenist (in Florovsky’s case, a “conservative”
ecumenist) does not necessarily mean that he is wrong in every other
pronouncement or argument he makes in theology. And if he is very learned and
clever and in general Orthodox, then we can at least listen to his
arguments. Thus the Holy Fathers, while recognizing that Origen was a heretic,
nevertheless used him in those areas in which he was less suspect. The same
attitude should be taken, in our view, towards Florovsky, all the more so in
that Florovsky was an acknowledged leader of the patristic revival in the
If, however, the writings of a heretic are to be ruled out of court even in those areas in which he was not a heretic, this principle should be applied consistently. This the Bostonite bishops do not do. Thus at one point they refer with approval to Alexander Kalomiros’ article “The River of Fire”. We personally by no means admire this article. But even if it were completely Orthodox, the fact remains that Kalomiros was an ardent and open preacher of Darwinism, which is not just a heresy, but, as Fr. Seraphim Rose rightly pointed out, a completely different world-view antithetical in all respects to Orthodoxy. The HOCNA bishops should not have a problem with this, since Metropolitan Ephraim of Boston recently publicly renounced Darwinism in an admirable way. But they still appear to be attached to Kalomiros and his writings, and never warn people about his heretical status.
Again, the Bostonite bishops quote Metropolitan Evlogy of Paris’ eulogy of Metropolitan Anthony’s work. Why quote the eulogy of one of the greatest heretics of the 20th century in your favour? If Florovsky’s criticism of Metropolitan Anthony is supposedly tainted by his (fairly moderate) ecumenism, why should Evlogy’s eulogy of Metropolitan Anthony not be tainted by his ecumenism and other heresies (sophianism, newcalendarism, sergianism, etc.)
Again, they discuss Fr. Gregory Lourie’s criticisms of Archbishop
Theophan of
The
Bostonite strategy here is double-edged. If they prefer to spend most of their
time attacking the personal failings of Metropolitan Anthony’s opponents, or
pointing out their mistakes in other theological fields, this only invites
their opponents to point to their personal failings and their mistakes
in other theological fields. But in that way attention is distracted from
Metropolitan Anthony’s thesis, considered on its own merits or demerits
independently of anything or anyone else.
It
should be noted that the main opponents of Metropolitan Anthony adopted a
different strategy. Thus Archbishop Theophan of
One more introductory point should be made here. Metropolitan Anthony’s Catechism, which expressed the same theology as The Dogma of Redemption in a more concise form, was at first accepted by the ROCA Synod as a substitute for Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow’s Catechism in schools. True: the Synod did not call Metropolitan Philaret’s Catechism heretical, simply saying that Metropolitan Anthony’s was “shorter and more convenient for assimilation”. And true again: Metropolitan Anthony himself did not ask for Metropolitan Philaret’s Catechism to be removed from use in favour of his own, writing only (in a report to the Synod dated April 9/22, 1926): “In my foreword to An Attempt at an Orthodox Christian Catechism I wrote: ‘In publishing my work as material, I in no way wished that it should completely overshadow the Catechism of [Metropolitan] Philaret in schools, but I have nothing against the idea that this or that teacher of the Law of God should sometimes, in his interpretation of the dogmas and commandments, use my thoughts and references to Holy Scripture and Holy Tradition, thereby filling in the gaps in the textbook catechism with regard to various religious questions, of which very many have arisen in the time since the death of the author’”.[3]
All this sounds innocent and cautious enough. And yet the fact is, as Metropolitan Anthony made clear on many occasions, and was also made clear by those who agreed with his work, the real motive for the writing of his Catechism and Dogma of Redemption was that he considered Metropolitan Philaret’s Catechism “scholastic” and heretical, being identical with the Roman Catholic teaching on redemption of Anselm and Aquinas. Thus in his letters to the Russian Athonite monk and theologian, Hieroschemamonk Theodosius, a firm opponent of Metropolitan Anthony’s thesis, he expressed fundamental disagreement “with the juridical theory of Anselm and Aquinas, which was completely accepted by P[eter] Moghila and Metropolitan Philaret”[4] And again he wrote: “We must not quickly return to Peter Moghila, Philaret and Macarius: they will remain subjects for historians”[5] And again: “Apparently you together with your namesake [Archbishop Theophan - Hieroschemamonk Theodosius was at that time Hieromonk Theophan] have fallen into spiritual deception”.[6] So it is clear that, for Metropolitan Anthony, as for his opponents, this was a fundamental matter of doctrine. Either Metropolitan Philaret’s Catechism was heretical and Metropolitan Anthony’s was Orthodox, or Metropolitan Anthony’s was heretical and Metropolitan Philaret’s was Orthodox. And whoever was wrong was “in spiritual deception”.
But the consequences of “victory” for either side would have been unthinkable; it would have meant condemning as a heretic either the greatest Russian hierarch of the 19th century or, in many people’s opinion, the greatest Russian hierarch of the 20th century, and would quite simply have torn the Russian Church Abroad apart at a time when it was fighting for its life against communism, sergianism and sophianism.
So it is not surprising that both sides
exhibited signs of trying to “cool” the conflict. On the one hand, Metropolitan
Anthony’s Catechism did not replace that of Metropolitan Philaret, and
the Synod under Metropolitan Anastasy refused to review the question again. And
on the other, Archbishop Theophan departed to live a hermit’s life in
But the conflict has resurfaced in the
1990s, both in
Now the Bostonite hierarchs cultivate a cultured, “eirenic” tone, and refrain from directly calling any of the major players in this controversy a heretic. At the same time, however, they extend the label “scholastic” to all those who espouse what they call “the juridical theory” of redemption, including even such renowned hierarchs as Bishop Ignaty Brianchaninov and Bishop Theophan the Recluse. Thus for the sake of defending the complete correctness of Metropolitan Anthony’s Dogma of Redemption, they are prepared to condemn the three most famous and revered hierarchs of the Russian Church in the 19th century as heretics!
Where will it stop? How many more “juridical theorists” will be found in the annals of Orthodox Church history and among the ranks of the Orthodox saints? A consistent witch-hunt in search of “scholastic” heretics will go much further than the Bostonite hierarchs may realise. Thus, as we shall demonstrate later, rejection of the so-called “Augustinian” theory of original sin will involve rejecting the canon of the Council of Carthage on the baptism of children which is part of the teaching of the Seven Ecumenical Councils. Again, the rejection of the supposedly heretical translation of Romans 5.19 will have to involve rejection, not only of the Bible of the Orthodox West, the Latin Vulgate, but also of the Slavonic Bible translated by Saints Cyril and Methodius. Were Saints Cyril and Methodius also scholastic heretics – before scholasticism even came into existence?! The consequences of this “revisionism” are mind-boggling…
So what is the alternative? Continue to
bury the question again as it was buried in the course of several decades by
the
For, on the one hand, he did not publicly insist on their acceptance.[7] And on the other, as one of his fairest critics, Fr. Seraphim Rose, writes, “it is a question not of heresy (in his most sympathetic critics and we won’t be examining others), but rather of imperfection, of theology not thought through and consistent. He is not known as a careful theologian, rather as a great pastor whose theology was one of fits and starts. The question of ‘heresy’ arises when his critics try to make him strictly accountable for every expression and when they place him above all the Holy Fathers of the Church, for in several points the teaching of Metropolitan Anthony clearly contradicts the Fathers. His theology is at times closer to expressionism. Almost all but a few of his absolute devotees admit that Dogma of Redemption especially is very loose”.[8]
On the “looseness” of the work, and the
difficulty of analysing it, many have commented. Thus immediately after the
publication of The Dogma of Redemption in 1926, Protopriest Milosh
Parenta wrote in the
However, in spite of these obstacles, an attempt will be made to undertake such an analysis in this work; for, whatever the dangers of criticising such a revered figure, the danger of allowing his mistaken opinions to spread and be exalted to the status of Orthodox dogma are still greater…[10]
1. The “Juridical Theory”
In essence the wrath of God is
one of the manifestations of the love of God, but of the love of God in its
relation to the moral evil in the heart of rational creatures in general, and
in the heart of man in particular.
Archbishop Theophan of
What is the so-called “juridical theory”? If we reply: “An understanding of the redemption of mankind expressed in legal or juridical terms or metaphors”, this hardly implies heresy, for many passages of Holy Scripture, as is well-known to both sides in this debate, use juridical terms when speaking about our redemption. If we add to this definition the words: “combined with terms of a passionately negative or pagan connotation, such as ‘wrath’, ‘curse’, ‘sacrifice’, ‘propitiation’,” then we are no nearer to the definition of a heresy, for these phrases, too, are to be found in abundance in Holy Scripture. Since the critics of the juridical theory often describe it as “scholastic”, we might expect that the Catholic scholastic theory of redemption as found in the works of Anselm and Aquinas, is meant. Certainly this is part of the meaning. And yet there is no serious analysis of this theory, and no quotations from Catholic sources.
The real targets of Metropolitan Anthony
and his supporters are the works of certain Orthodox writers who
supposedly embrace the scholastic theory, especially Metropolitan Philaret of
Moscow. Metropolitan Anthony adds the names of Peter Moghila, metropolitan of
The strange
thing, however, is that Metropolitan Anthony does not quote at all from
Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow, with the exception of a short excerpt from his
Catechism on original sin and another, even smaller one from a sermon of
his on Great Friday. And the Bostonite bishops do not correct this glaring
deficiency. Instead we are provided with a summary – more precisely, a
caricature - of the scholastic theory in the following words: “The Supreme
Being, God, was offended by Adam’s disobedience and man’s disbelief in the
Divine injunction regarding the tree of knowledge. This was an extreme offense,
and was punished by the curse not merely laid upon the transgressors, but also
upon their entire posterity. Nevertheless, Adam’s sufferings and the agonizing
death which befell Adam’s descendants were not sufficient to expunge that
dreadful affront. The shedding of a servant’s blood could not effect this; only
the Blood of a Being equal in rank with the outraged Divinity, that is, the Son
of God, Who of His own good will took the penalty upon Himself in man’s stead.
By this means the Son of God obtained mankind’s forgiveness from the wrathful
Creator Who received satisfaction in the shedding of the Blood and the death of
His Son. Thus, the Lord has manifested both His mercy and His equity! With good
reason do the skeptics affirm that if such an interpretation corresponds to
Revelation, the conclusion would be the contrary: the Lord would have
manifested here both mercilessness and injustice”.[12]
Since neither
Metropolitan Anthony nor the Bostonite bishops provide us with the opportunity
of comparing this summary of the theory with the actual writings of the
so-called Orthodox scholastics, we shall attempt to supply this deficiency for
them. Here is a passage from Metropolitan Philaret’s Catechism on
redemption: “204. Q. In what sense is Jesus Christ said to have been crucified
for us? A. In the sense that by His death on the Cross He delivered us from
sin, the curse and death. 205. Q. What do the Holy Scriptures say about it? A.
The Holy Scriptures say the following about it. About deliverance from sin: ‘In
whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins according to
the riches of His grace’ (Ephesians 1.7). About deliverance from
the curse: ‘Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a
curse for us’ (Galatians 3.13). About deliverance from death:
‘Forasmuch then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, He also
Himself took part of the same; that through death He might destroy the power of
death, that is, the devil; and deliver them who through fear of death were all
their lifetime subject to bondage’ (Hebrews 2.14-15) 206. Q. How does the
death of Jesus Christ on the Cross deliver us from sin, the curse and death? A.
The death of Jesus Christ on the Cross delivers us from sin, the curse and
death. And so that we may more easily understand this mystery, the word of God
enlightens us about it, as far as we can accommodate it, through the comparison
of Jesus Christ with Adam. Adam naturally (by nature) is the head of the whole
of humanity, which is one with him through natural descent from him. Jesus
Christ, in Whom Divinity is united with Humanity, by grace became the new,
all-powerful Head of the people whom He unites with Himself by means of faith.
Therefore just as through Adam we fell under the power of sin, the curse and
death, so we are delivered from sin, the curse and death through Jesus Christ.
His voluntary sufferings and death on the Cross for us, being of infinite value
and worth, as being the death of Him Who is without sin and the God-Man, is
complete satisfaction of the justice of God, Who condemned us for sin to death,
and immeasurable merit, which has acquired for Him the right, without offending
justice, to give us sinners forgiveness of sins and grace for the victory over
sin and death…”[13]
It will be
noted that Metropolitan Philaret, as is usual with him, stays very close to the
words of Holy Scripture, so that it is very difficult to find fault with his
exposition without finding fault at the same time with the scriptural words
that he quotes. It will also be noted that his explanation has none of the
emotionality of the scholastic theory as expounded by Metropolitan Anthony, none
of its bloodthirstiness. True, there are the “juridical” words “curse”,
“satisfaction”, “merit”; but these are used in a calm, measured way which
hardly invites the mockery assailed at the scholastic theory.
Let us now turn
to one of the most famous of the Holy Fathers, whom no Orthodox theologian
would dare to accuse of scholasticism, since he was one of the earliest and
greatest opponents of scholasticism, St. Gregory Palamas. It is striking how
many “scholastic” words, such as “wrath”, “sacrifice”, “victim”,
“reconciliation”, and “ransom” he uses: “Man was led into his captivity when he
experienced God’s wrath, this wrath being the good God’s just abandonment of
man. God had to be reconciled with the human race, for otherwise mankind could
not be set free from the servitude.
“A sacrifice
was needed to reconcile the Father on high with us and to sanctify us, since we
had been soiled by fellowship with the evil one. There had to be a sacrifice
which both cleansed and was clean, and a purified, sinless priest…. God
overturned the devil through suffering and His Flesh which He offered as a
sacrifice to God the Father, as a pure and altogether holy victim – how great
is His gift! – and reconciled God to the human race…
“Since He gave
His Blood, which was sinless and therefore guiltless, as a ransom for us who
were liable to punishment because of our sins, He redeemed us from our guilt.
He forgave us our sins, tore up the record of them on the Cross and delivered
us from the devil’s tyranny. The devil was caught by the bait. It was as if he
opened his mouth and hastened to pour out for himself our ransom, the Master’s
Blood, which was not only guiltless but full of divine power. Then instead of
being enriched by it he was strongly bound and made an example in the Cross of
Christ. So we were rescued from his slavery and transformed into the kingdom of
the Son of God. Before we had been vessels of wrath, but we were made vessels
of mercy by Him Who bound the one who was strong compared to us, and seized his
goods.”[14]
Finally, let us now turn to Bishop Theophan the Recluse: "We have fallen through the sin of our first parents and we have been plunged into inescapable destruction. Our salvation can only come by deliverance from this destruction. Our destruction comes from two different evils: from the wrath of God in the face of our disobedience and from the loss of His grace and from submission to the law, on the one hand; and on the other, from the alteration of our nature by sin, from the loss of true life, and from submission to death. That is why there were required for our salvation: first, that God should take pity on us, deliver us from the curse of the law and restore to us His grace; and then that He make us live again, we who were dead through sin, and give us a new life.
"Both the one and the other are necessary: both that we should be delivered from the curse, and that our nature should be renewed. If God does not show Himself full of pity for us, we cannot receive any pardon from Him, and if we receive no pardon, we are not worthy of His grace; and if we are not worthy of His grace, we cannot receive the new life. And even if we had received pardon and remission in some fashion, we would remain in our corrupted state, unrenewed, and we would derive no profit from it; for without renewal of our nature, we would remain in a permanent state of sin and we would constantly commit sins, sins which would bring down upon us again our condemnation and disgrace - and so everything would be maintained in the same state of corruption.
"Both the
one and the other have been accomplished by the expiatory sacrifice of Christ.
By His Death on the Cross He offered a propitiatory sacrifice for the human
race. He lifted the curse of sin and reconciled us to God. And by His pure
life, by which in a perfect manner He accomplished the will of God in all its
fullness, He has revealed and given to us, in His Person, an unfailing source
of righteousness and sanctification for the whole human race."[15]
And let us now
compare this exposition with the words of the HOCNA bishops: “The proponents of
the heretical, Scholastic theories of atonement insist that God’s honor or
majesty or justice had to be ‘satisfied’ or ‘appeased’ before God’s love and
compassion could be shown to mankind. God could not forgive mankind until His
wrath had been propitiated. These beliefs attribute a division, opposition, and
contradiction within the simplicity of the Divinity. Furthermore, they, like
the pagan Greek philosophers, subject the superessential and almighty God to a
necessity of His nature” (p. 3).
So
there would appear to be three reasons for the rejection of the juridical
theory by the Bostonite bishops: (1) a vaguely expressed emotional distaste for
the emotional connotations of certain words such as “satisfied” and “appeased”,
(2) the supposed division it creates in the simplicity of the Divinity, and (3)
its attribution to God of a certain pagan concept of necessity.
(1),
though an emotional rather than a strictly intellectual accusation, actually
represents, in our opinion, the real motivation for the opposition to the
so-called juridical theory, and will consequently be discussed at some length
below. (2) presumably refers (although it is not clearly stated in this
passage) to the supposed contradiction between love and “wrath” as attributes
of God, and will also be discussed at length. (3) is simply a misunderstanding,
in our view, and will therefore be briefly discussed now before going on to the
more serious accusations.
Bishop Theophan does use the word “necessary”,
but it is obvious that no pagan Greek kind of necessity is implied. The thought
is simply that in order to be saved we had to be both cleansed from sin and
renewed in nature. And it had to be in that order. Indeed it makes no sense
to think that human nature can be renewed and deified before it has been
cleansed from sin. Thus we read: “Now this He said about the Spirit, which those who believed on Him were
to receive; for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet
glorified” (John 7.39). In other words, Jesus had to be glorified, i.e.
crucified and die on
Turning now to
the other charges against the juridical theory, it is necessary to understand,
first of all, that all attempts to describe the mystery of our redemption in
human terms are necessarily metaphorical. As such, they cannot be taken
to their logical conclusion without absurdity. Therefore when reading them we
must always bear in mind their metaphorical character, and offset the absurdity
which results from concentrating too closely on one metaphor alone by
considering other metaphors as well. [16]
Thus the juridical metaphor needs to be supplemented with, for example, the
metaphor of the strong man (God) despoiling the goods of the brigand (the
devil) (Matthew 12.29) or the patristic metaphor of the devil like a fish
being caught on the hook of Christ’s Divinity. And such a mixing of metaphors
is displayed, as we have seen, by St. Gregory Palamas. Each metaphor illumines
a part of the truth; one metaphor complements another, correcting its
misleading emphases.
For, as
Vladimir Lossky writes: “The immensity of this work of Christ, a work
incomprehensible to the angels, as St. Paul tells us, cannot be enclosed in a
single explanation nor in a single metaphor. The very idea of redemption
assumes a plainly legal aspect: it is the atonement of the slave, the debt paid
for those who remained in prison because they could not discharge it. Legal
also is the theme of the mediator who reunited man to God through the cross.
But these two Pauline images, stressed again by the Fathers, must not be
allowed to harden, for this would be to build an indefensible relationship of
rights between God and humanity. Rather must we relocate them among the almost
infinite number of other images, each like a facet of an event ineffable in
itself”[17].
At the heart of
the controversy surrounding the juridical model of redemption, and closely
related to the point just made about its metaphorical nature, lies the question
of the emotional connotations of the language used in it – and of the emotional
reaction to those connotations on the part of some of its critics. Metropolitan
Anthony chooses to see in the language of the juridical model – even in the
very sober form in which is presented by Metropolitan Philaret – the expression
of fallen human emotions “unworthy” of God and the great mystery of God’s
salvation of mankind. Words such as “curse”, “vengeance”, “wrath”, “ransom” all
have the wrong connotations for him, even disgust him; he would like to replace
them by more “positive” words such as “love” and “compassion”. What he apparently
fails to realize is that all words used to explain the mystery, including
“love” and “compassion”, are more or less tainted by their association with
fallen human emotions and have to be purified in our understanding when applied
to God.
But such
purification cannot be accomplished through abstraction simply, by replacing
the vivid words of Scripture with the dry categories of secular philosophy. The
Word of God is above all philosophy. And to attempt to “improve on” the words
and concepts given to us by the Holy Spirit in Holy Scripture can only lead to
a sinful distortion of the mystery itself. If the Holy Scriptures, adapting to
our infirmity, use this language, then all the more should we not expect that
we can find any better words to explain the mystery than those provided by the
Holy Spirit Himself.
The best we can
do, therefore, is to accept with gratitude the metaphors and explanations given
to us in the Holy Scriptures, understanding, on the one hand, that there is no
better explanation of the mystery in question in human language (for if there
were, God would have provided it), and on the other hand that this explanation
needs to be purified in our minds of all elements suggestive of fallen human
passion.
Instead of
rejecting or belittling the terms given us in Holy Scripture, we must accept
them with reverence, probe as deeply as possible into their meaning, while
purging them of all fallen connotations. Thus when considering the curse that
God placed on mankind at the fall, we must exclude from our minds all images of
bloodthirsty men cursing their enemies out of frenzied hatred and a desire for
vengeance. At the same time, the concept of the curse must not become so
abstract that the sense of awe and fear and horror that it elicits is
lost. The curse was not imposed on mankind by God out of hatred of mankind, but
out of a pure and dispassionate love of justice – and this justice, far from
being a “cold”, “abstract” idea is a living and powerful energy of God Himself.
Similarly, God did not demand the Sacrifice of the Son out of a lust for blood,
out of the fallen passion of vengefulness, but in order to restore justice and
peace between Himself and His creatures, than which there can be nothing more
desirable and necessary.
God neither
loves nor hates as human beings do; both the love and the wrath of God are not
to be understood in a human way. For, as St. John of Damascus says: “God, being
good, is the cause of all good, subject neither to envy nor to any passion”.[18] And, as St. Gregory the
Theologian says, by virtue of our limitations and imperfection as human beings
we introduce “something human even into such lofty moral definitions of the
Divine essence as righteousness and love”.[19]
Archbishop
Theophan of Poltava assembled a number of patristic quotations, of which the
following are a selection, in order to demonstrate this vitally important
point:
(i)
St. Gregory of Nyssa: “That it is impious to consider that
the nature of God is subject to any passion of pleasure or mercy or wrath will
be denied by none of those who are even a little attentive to the knowledge of
the truth of existence. But although it is said that God rejoices in His
servants and is stirred up with wrath against the fallen people, and then that
He ‘will show mercy on whom He will show mercy’ (Exodus 33.19), nevertheless I think
that in the case of each of these utterances the commonly accepted
interpretation loudly teaches us that by means of our properties the Providence
of God adapts itself to our infirmity, so that those inclined to sin may
through fear of punishment restrain themselves form evil, and that those
formerly carried away by sin may not despair of returning through repentance
when they contemplate His mercy”.[20]
(ii)
St. Gregory of Nyssa: “Theological science cannot avoid
using this language, even about Divine things. We must always have this fact in
mind both when we read the Holy Scriptures and when studying the works of the
Holy Fathers. And so as to avoid
possible misunderstandings and mistakes in the one or the other sphere, it is
necessary for us in such cases to transpose the words and names relating to God
which are taken from the existence here below to mean that which is higher,
loftier”.[21]
(iii)
St. John Chrysostom: “The same
expressions are used about God and about man; but the former should be
understood in one way, and the latter in another. We should not accept in the
same sense that which is spoken about us and about God, even if the manner of
speaking is the same; but we must ascribe to God a certain special privilege
which is proper to God; otherwise much stupidity will be the result”.[22]
(iv)
St. John of Damascus: “Many of the things relating to God
… cannot be put into fitting terms, but on things above us we cannot do else
than express ourselves according to our limited capacity; as, for instance,
when we speak of God we use the terms sleep and wrath, … and
suchlike expressions… It is not within our capacity, therefore, to say anything
about God or even to think of Him, beyond the things which have been divinely
revealed to us, whether by word or by manifestation, by the divine oracles at
once of the Old Testament and of the New.”[23]
(v)
St. John Chrysostom: “When you hear the words ‘wrath’ and
‘anger’ in relation to God, do not understand anything human by them: this is a
word of condescension. The Divinity is foreign to everything of the sort; but
it is said like this in order to bring the matter closer to the understanding
of people of the cruder sort. In the same way we, when we speak with
barbarians, use their language; or when we speak with an infant, we lisp like
him, even if we ourselves are wise men, in condescension to his youth. And what
is it to be wondered at if we act in this way both in words and in deeds,
biting our hands and giving the appearance of wrath, in order to correct the
child? In exactly the same way God used similar expressions in order to act of
people of the cruder sort. When He spoke He cared not for His dignity, but
about the profit of those who listened to Him. In another place He indicated
that wrath was not proper to God when He said: ‘Is it I whom they provoke? Is
it not themselves?’ (Jeremiah 7.19) Would you really want
Him, when speaking with the Jews, to say that He was not angry with them and
did not hate them, since hatred is a passion? Or that He does not look on the
works of men, since sight is a property of bodies? Or that He does not hear,
since hearing belongs to the flesh? But from this they would have extracted
another dishonourable doctrine, as if everything takes place without the
Providence of God. In avoiding such expressions about God, many would then have
been completely ignorant of the fact that God exists; and if they had been
ignorant of that, then everything would have perished. But when the teaching
about God was introduced in such a way, the correction of it followed swiftly.
He who is convinced that God exists, although he has an unfitting conception of
God and puts something sensual into it, nevertheless with time he becomes
convinced that there is nothing of the sort in God. But he who is convinced
that God does not have providential oversight, that He does not care about that
which exists, that He does not exist, what benefit will he gain from
passionless expressions?”[24]
(vi)
St. John Chrysostom: “When it is said of God that He is
angry, he is angry not in order to avenge Himself, but in order to correct us”.[25]
(vii)
St. Gregory the Theologian: “He punishes, and we have made
out of this: He is angry, because with us punishment follows anger”.[26]
(viii)
St. John of Damascus: “By wrath and anger are understood
His hatred and disgust in relation to sin, since we also hate that which does
not accord with our thought and are angry with it”.[27]
Thus, as
Archbishop Theophan writes, “if one understands the properties of the wrath of
God in the sense in which the just-mentioned Fathers and Teachers of the Church
understand it, then it is evident that it involves nothing contrary to the
Christian understanding of God as the God of love. But in essence the wrath of
God, with such an understanding, is one of the manifestations of the love of
God, but of the love of God in its relation to the moral evil in the heart
of rational creatures in general, and in the heart of man in particular.”[28]
So God’s love and wrath
are two sides of the same coin; the one cannot exist without the other. For as
the love of God is limitless, so is His wrath against injustice, that is,
against that which denies love and seeks to destroy the beloved. Indeed, as St.
John of the Ladder writes: “God is called love, and also justice. That is why
the wise man in the Song of Songs says to the pure heart: Justice has loved
thee.”[29]
Archbishop Theophan concludes: “The objection to the Church’s teaching that the death of Christ the Saviour on the Cross is a Sacrifice on the grounds that it supposedly presupposes an understanding of God that is unworthy of His true greatness insofar as it speaks of God as being angry for an insult to His dignity, is based on an incorrect understanding of the so-called moral attributes of God, and in particular the Righteousness of God. The true reason for the Sacrifice on Golgotha for the sins of the human race is the love of God for the human race.”[30]
2. The Meaning of “Justification”
All these things were done with justice, without which God does not act.
St. Gregory Palamas, Homily 16.
Metropolitan Anthony makes a particular point of rejecting the traditional, juridical meaning of the word “justification” (îïðàâäàíèå in Russian, dikaiosunh in Greek), which, he claims, “does not have such a specific meaning. Rather, it means righteousness, that is, blamelessness, dispassion and virtue. This is the translation of the Greek dikaiosunh which has the same meaning as agiwsunh, areth, etc.”[31]
Alexander Kalomiros also attempts to give a different meaning to the word “justification”. He writes that the Greek word dikaiosunh, is a translation of the Hebrew tsedaka, which means "the Divine energy that accomplishes the salvation of man". "This term," he writes, "is parallel and almost synonymous with the words hesed (pity, compassion, love) and emeth (faithfulness, truth). This is a quite different conception of justice..."[32]
But is it? Even if we accept the conjectural Hebrew word rather than the word chosen by the Holy Spirit in the Greek Septuagint, the version of the Old Testament Scriptures which is blessed for use in the services of the Orthodox Church, there is surely no contradiction here with the usual meaning of the word "justice". "The Divine energy that accomplishes the salvation of man" pursues this end through the restoration of a state of sinlessness and justice in man's relationship to God. Sin upset the balance in this relationship, creating injustice. Justice is restored through the destruction of sin: on the part of God, by His perfect Sacrifice and propitiation for the sins of all men, and on the part of man by tears of repentance and good works carried out for the love of God and neighbour.
As we have seen above, according to Bishop Theophan the Recluse, there are two aspects to our redemption: freedom from sin, or justification, and renewal of life, or holiness. By reducing justification to holiness, Metropolitan Anthony appears to reduce the first aspect of our redemption to the second.
But this means, according to Archbishop Seraphim of Lubny, a member of the ROCA Synod in the 1920s and 30s, “that M. Anthony has an incorrect understanding of salvation. The latter he reduces to personal holiness alone. While justification, which is the same as our deliverance from the punitive sentence laid by the Divine justice on Adam for his sin, is so excluded by M. Anthony from the concept of salvation that he identifies this justification of ours accomplished by the Lord on the Cross with personal holiness, for the concepts of justification and righteousness, in his opinion, are equivalent”.
“But we could not attain personal holiness if the Lord had not communicated to us the inner, regenerating grace of the Holy Spirit in the sacraments of baptism and chrismation. And this grace is given to us exclusively by virtue of the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross and is its fruit (John 16.7). Consequently, our salvation is composed, first, from our justification from original sin by the blood of the Saviour on the Cross, and secondly, from the regenerating grace that is communicated to us, which destroys all personal sins and makes us possessors of holiness – it goes without saying, with the most active participation of our free will”[33]
In support of his thesis, Metropolitan Anthony points out that “even
[in] the Russian text of the Bible, which bears the traces of Protestant
influence… the word ‘justification’ is placed only seven times in St. Paul’s
mouth whereas ‘righteousness’ is employed sixty-one times”[34]
However, as Archbishop Seraphim writes, “our Church had never recognized the quantitative principle in the understanding of Sacred Scripture. The holy Fathers of the Church from the beginning never saw such a criterion in their grace-filled interpretation of the Divine Revelation. And if we pay attention to the holy Fathers, we shall see that their understanding of ‘Paul’s righteousness’ overthrows M. Anthony’s view of this righteousness as meaning only holiness.
“We shall not cite the patristic interpretation of all the 61 utterances of the Apostle Paul that include the word ‘righteousness’, which would constitute a whole book. For Orthodox believers it is important to know what they must understand by this ‘righteousness’ in the light of the patristic mind. To this end we shall cite the interpretation of Bishop Theophan the Recluse of several of the utterances of the Apostle Paul in which the word ‘righteousness’ figures, since this interpretation, being based on the teaching of the holy Fathers of the Church, is patristic.
“Having in mind the words of Romans 3.25: ‘Whom God has set forth as a propitiation [ilasthrion] through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness [for the remission of past sins]’, Bishop Theophan the Recluse gives it this interpretation: ‘By faith everyone draws on himself the propitiatory blood of Christ. The blood of Christ by its power has already cleansed the sins of the whole world’ but everyone becomes personally cleansed by it when by faith receives on himself sprinkling or bedewing by the blood of Christ. This is accomplished mystically in the water font of baptism and afterwards in the tears font of repentance…
“’God saw that people … could not… start on the right path; which is why He decided to pour His righteousness into them, as fresh blood is admitted into a corrupted organism – and declare it [His righteousness] in them in this way. And in order that this might be accomplished, He gave His Only-begotten Son as a propitiation for all believers – not only so that for His sake their sins might be forgiven, but in order that the believers might become pure and holy within through receiving the grace of the Holy Spirit by faith’.[35]
“In his explanation of [Romans] 9.30: ‘What shall we say? That the Gentiles who followed not after righteousness have attained to righteousness, the righteousness which is of faith’, Bishop Theophan writes: ‘By righteousness we must understand here all the spiritual good things in Christ Jesus: the remission of sins, the reception of grace, the good direction of the heart through it and all the virtues, by all of which righteousness was restored, the righteousness that was imprinted in human nature at its creation and trampled on thereafter’.[36]
“Dwelling on the words of the Apostle Paul: ‘The
“In his explanation of Romans 5.18: ‘Therefore as by the transgression of one man condemnation came upon all men, so by the righteous act [dikaiwmatoV] of One man [the free gift] came upon all men to justification [dikaiwsin] of life’, Bishop Theophan writes: ‘as by the transgression of one man condemnation – that is, condemnation to death – came upon all me, so by the justification of One man justification to life came upon all men. Blessed Theodoret writes: “Looking at Adam, says the Apostle, do not doubt in what I have said (that is, that God saves all in the one Lord Jesus Christ). For if it is true, as it is indeed true, that when Adam transgressed the commandment, the whole race received on itself the sentence of death, then it is clear that the righteousness of the Saviour provides life for all men.”’ ‘The apostle,’ explains Bishop Theophan, ‘said: “justification of life came upon”, which leads us to understand that the saving forces of grace had already entered into humanity, had been received by it and had begun their restorative work… Do not doubt that this grace has already entered, and hasten only to make use of it, so as to destroy the destructive consequences of the first sin’.[38]
“In his interpretation of I Corinthians 1.30, we find the following words in Bishop Theophan: ‘The Lord Jesus Christ is our “righteousness” because in His name we are given the remission of sins and grace that strengthens us to every good work’.[39]
“As we see, Bishop Theophan by the righteousness about which the Apostle Paul teaches in the cited places in his epistles understands our propitiation or justification from original sin based on the Saviour’s sacrifice on the Cross, and then from all our personal sins and our attainment of holiness through the regenerating grace of the Holy Spirit.”[40]
Bishop Theophan’s interpretation of three other disputed passages from
“From the cited interpretation of Bishop Theophan it is clearly evident that by the justification [îïðàâäàíiå] of which the Apostle Paul speaks we must not understand only the righteousness [ïðàâåäíîñòü] acquired by us through the grace of the Holy Spirit. This justification includes in itself the removal from mankind of the guilt for original sin and its consequence, the curse of God, by means of the justice of God through the death of Christ on the Cross…
“This interpretation of the Slavonic word ‘ïðàâäà’ (in the Russian translation, ‘îïðàâäàíiå’) according to Bishop Theophan’s interpretation is witnessed to by two other texts among those indicated by M. Anthony: ‘For if the ministry of condemnation be glory, much more doth the ministration of righteousness exceed in glory’ (II Corinthians 3.9) [and] ‘For if righteousness come by the law, then Christ died in vain’ (Galatians 2.21).
“Having in mind the first text, Bishop Theophan says: ‘The Old Testament institution was the ministry of condemnation because it only reproached sin and condemned the sinner… it did not lead him further… The testament of grace, by contrast, although it is also revealed by the universal condemnation of those who are called to it, nevertheless says: ‘Repent and be baptized every one of you for the remission of sins and ye shall receive the Holy Spirit’ (Acts 2.38). That is, in it the remission of sins is given from the first step… and new life that is powerful to keep one walking without deviating in the commandments of God is communicated – a right spirit is renewed in the reins, a spirit that communicates to him who receives it inner probity or righteousness [ïðàâåäíîñòü]. That is why it is the ministry of righteousness [ïðàâäà] - dikaiosunhV … not in name, but in essence’.[42]
“As we see, in the given apostolic words, too, we must understand by justification not only righteousness or holiness, but also the remission of sins, of course, in the sense of deliverance both from original sin, and also from all our personal sins by the grace of the Holy Spirit for the sake of the death of Christ on the Cross.
“The same thought is expressed in Bishop Theophan’s interpretation of the word ‘righteousness’ [ïðàâäà] (in the Russian translation ‘îïðàâäaíiå] in the last apostolic text. Lingering on this text, Bishop Theophan says: ‘If righteousness’ - dikaiosunh, a God-pleasing, saving life – ‘come by the law, then Christ died in vain’. If the law provided both forgiveness of sins and inner probity and sanctification, then there would be no reason for Christ to die. He died in order to provide us with these two essential good things – the forgiveness of sins and sanctifying grace. Nobody except He could provide us with these, and without them there would be no salvation for us… The Lord Saviour died for us and nailed our sins to the Cross. Then, after His ascension into heaven, He sent down the Holy Spirit from the Father. That is why believers are given in Him both the forgiveness of sins and sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit. Without these two things there would be no salvation for us. Consequently Christ, in providing us with them, did not die in vain… Consequently righteousness is not through the law.’[43]…
“Thus from all the apostolic utterances that we have examined in which the Apostle Paul speaks about righteousness, it is clear that by this righteousness we must understand not only holiness, but also our justification from original sin and all our personal sins.”[44]
The other passages whose correct interpretation is disputed by Metropolitan Anthony are discussed in a similar way by Archbishop Seraphim, relying, as always, on the interpretation of Bishop Theophan. We shall leave the interested reader to look these up on his own. Instead, we shall end this section by citing St. John Chrysostom’s purely “juridical” explanation of how Christ delivered us from the curse: “’Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law, having become a curse for us’ (Galatians 3.13). In reality, the people were subject to another curse, which says, ‘Cursed is every man who continueth not in all the words of the law to do them’ (Deuteronomy 27.26). To this curse, I say, people were subject, for none had continued in, or was a keep of, the whole law; but Christ exchanged this curse for the other, ‘Cursed by God is everyone who is hanged on a tree’ (Deuteronomy 21.23). And then both he who hanged on a tree, and he who transgresses the law, is cursed, and as it was necessary for him who is about to relieve from a curse himself to be loosed from it, but to receive another instead of it, therefore Christ took upon Him such another, and thereby loosed us from the curse. It was like an innocent man’s undertaking to die for another condemned to death, and so rescuing him from punishment. For Christ took upon Him not the curse of transgression, but the other curse, in order to remove that of others. For, ‘He practiced no iniquity, nor was craft in His mouth’ (Isaiah 53.9; I Peter 2.22). And as by dying He rescued from death those who were dying, so by taking upon Himself the curse, He delivered them from it.”[45]
3. The Sacrifice for Sin
O my Saviour, the living and unslain
Sacrifice, when as God Thou of Thine own will hadst offered up Thyself unto the
Father…
Pentecostarion, Sunday of Pascha, Mattins, Canon,
Canticle 6, troparion.
Another bone of contention between Metropolitan Anthony and his critics is the concept of sacrifice.
The Holy Scriptures say that “the Son of Man came… to give His life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20.28), and in another place – “as a ransom for all” (I Timothy 2.6). The Holy Fathers use such language no less frequently. To take one particularly clear example, Blessed Theophylact writes: “Since the Lord offered Himself up for us in sacrifice to the Father, having propitiated Him by His death as High Priest and then, after the destruction of sin and cessation of enmity, sent unto us the Spirit, He says: ‘I will beseech the Father and will give you a Comforter, that is, I will propitiate the Father for you and reconcile Him with you, who were at enmity with Him because of sin, and He, having been propitiated by My death for you and been reconciled with you, will send you the Spirit.”[46] But the language of “ransom”, “propitiation” and “sacrifice” is rejected by Metropolitan Anthony.
Archbishop
Theophan writes: “[Metropolitan Anthony] gives a metaphorical, purely moral
meaning to the Sacrifice on Golgotha, interpreting it in the sense of his own
world-view, which he calls the world-view of moral monism.[47]
But he decisively rejects the usual understanding of the Sacrifice on Golgotha,
as a sacrifice in the proper meaning of the word, offered out of love for us by
our Saviour to the justice of God, for the sin of the whole human race. He
recognizes it to be the invention of the juridical mind of the Catholic and
Protestant theologians. It goes without saying that with this understanding of
the redemptive feat of the Saviour the author had to establish a point of view
with regard to the Old Testament sacrifices, the teaching on which has up to
now been a major foundation for the teaching on the Saviour’s Sacrifice on
Golgotha. And that is what we see in fact. The author rejects the generally
accepted view of the sacrifices as the killing of an innocent being in exchange
for a sinful person or people that is subject to execution. ‘In the eyes of the
people of the Old Testament’, in the words of the author, ‘a sacrifice meant
only a contribution[48],
just as Christians now offer [candles, kutiya and eggs] in church… But
nowhere [in the Old Testament] will one encounter the idea that the animal
being sacrificed was thought of as taking upon itself the punishment due man.’[49]
“Our author
points to St. Gregory the Theologian as being one of the Fathers of the Church
who was a decisive opponent of the teaching on sacrifice, in the general sense
of the word. In the given case he has in mind the following, truly remarkable
{but not to the advantage of the author) words of the great Theologian on the
Sacrifice on Golgotha:
“’We were
detained in bondage by the evil one, sold under sin, and receiving pleasure in
exchange for wickedness. Now, since a ransom belongs only to him who holds in
bondage, I ask to whom this was offered, and for what cause? If to the evil
one, fie upon the outrage! If the robber receives ransom, not only from God,
but a ransom which consists of God Himself, and has such an illustrious payment
for his tyranny, a payment for whose sake it would have been right for him to
have left us alone altogether. But if to the Father, I ask first, how? For it
was not by Him that we were being oppressed; and next, on what principle did
the Blood of His Only-begotten Son delight the Father, Who would not receive
even Isaac, when he was being offered up by his father, but changed his
sacrifice, putting a ram in the place of his human victim?’[50]”[51]
However, St.
Gregory, unlike Metropolitan Anthony, does not reject the juridical model, but
rather embraced its essence. If the metropolitan had started quoting the saint
a little earlier, then he would have read that the blood shed for us is “the
precious and famous Blood of our God and Highpriest and Sacrifice”. And
if he had continued the quotation just one sentence more, he would have read
that “the Father accepts the sacrifice, but neither asked for it, nor felt any
need of it, but on account of the oeconomy?”
“Evidently,”
writes Archbishop Theophan, “the author understood that this quotation in its
fullness witnesses against his assertion and therefore in the 1926 edition of The
Dogma of Redemption he does not give a reference to St. Gregory the
Theologian”[52]
The archbishop
continues: “From the cited words of St. Gregory it is evident that he by no
means rejects the teaching that the death of Christ the Saviour on Golgotha was
a sacrifice; he only rejects the theory created in order to explain it that
this sacrifice was to be seen as offered by Christ the Saviour as a ransom for
the sinful race of men to the devil [my italics – V.M.]. As is well
known, such a theory did exist and was developed by Origen and in part by St.
Gregory of Nyssa. St. Gregory the Theologian with complete justification
recognizes this theory to be without foundation, as did St. John of Damascus
later (Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book III, ch. 27). He
thought it just and well-founded to consider the sacrifice as offered to God
the Father, but not in the sense that the Father ‘demanded or needed’ it, but
according to the economy of salvation, that is, because, in the plan of Divine
Providence, it was necessary for the salvation of the human race.[53]
Besides, although it is said that the Father receives the Sacrifice, while the
Son offers it, the thought behind it is that the Son offers it as High Priest,
that is, according to His human nature, while the Father receives it
indivisibly with the Son and the Holy Spirit, as the Triune God, according to
the oneness and indivisibility of the Divine Essence.”[54]
Still further
proof of St. Gregory’s real views is provided by his writing that “Christ
Himself offers Himself to God [the Father], so that He Himself might snatch us
from him who possessed us, and so that the Anointed One should be received
instead of the one who had fallen, because the Anointer cannot be caught”.[55]
Returning now to
the question of the Old Testament sacrifices, Metropolitan Anthony rejects
their prefigurative significance. However, as Archbishop Theophan writes, “in
the words of St. Gregory the Theologian, these sacrifices were, on the one
hand, concessions to Israel’s childishness, and were designed to draw him away
from pagan sacrifices; but on the other hand, in these victims the Old
Testament law prefigured the future Sacrifice on Golgotha[56].
In particular, the Old Testament paschal Lamb had this mystically prefigurative
significance[57].
“’Everything
that took place in the time of the worship of God in the Old Testament,’ says
John Chrysostom, ‘in the final analysis refers to the Saviour, whether it is
prophecy or the priesthood, or the royal dignity, or the temple, or the altar
of sacrifice, or the veil of the temple, or the ark, or the place of
purification, or the manna, or the rod, or anything else – everything relates
to Him.
“’God from ancient times allowed the sons
of Israel to carry out a sacrificial service to Him not because He took
pleasure in sacrifices, but because he wanted to draw the Jews away from pagan
vanities…. Making a concession to the will of the Jews, He, as One wise and
great, by this very permission to offer sacrifices prepared an image of future
things, so that the victim, though in itself useless, should nevertheless be
useful as such an image. Pay attention, because this is a deep thought. The
sacrifices were not pleasing to God, as having been carried out not in
accordance with His will, but only in accordance with His condescension. He
gave to the sacrifices an image corresponding to the future oeconomy of Christ,
so that if in themselves they were not worthy to be accepted, they at least
became welcome by virtue of the image they expressed. By all these sacrifices
He expresses the image of Christ and foreshadows future events…’[58]”[59]
After quoting
from St. Athanasius the Great and St. Cyril of Alexandria to similar effect,
Archbishop Theophan continues: “But if the Holy Fathers and Teachers of the
Church look at the Old Testament sacrifices in this way, then still more
significance must they give to the redemptive death of Christ the Saviour for the
human race on Golgotha. And this is indeed what we see. They all recognize the
death of Christ the Saviour on Golgotha to be a sacrifice offered by Him as
propitiation for the human race, and that, moreover, in the most literal, not
at all metaphorical meaning of this word. And from this point of view the death
of Christ the Saviour on Golgotha is for them
‘the great mystery’ of the redemption of the human race from sin, the
curse and death and ‘the great mystery’ of the reconciliation of sinful
humanity with God.
“St. Gregory
the Theologian, in expounding his view on the Old Testament sacrifices as being
prefigurations of the great New Testament Sacrifice, notes: ‘But in order that
you should understand the depth of the wisdom and the wealth of the
unsearchable judgements of God, God did not leave even the [Old Testament]
sacrifices completely unsanctified, unperfected and limited only to the
shedding of blood, but to the sacrifices under the law is united the great and
in relation to the Primary Essence, so to speak, untempered Sacrifice – the
purification not of a small part of the universe, and not for a short time, but
of the whole world for eternity’.
“By this great Sacrifice he understand the Saviour Jesus Christ Himself,
Who shed His blood for the salvation of the human race on Golgotha, which is
why he often calls Him ‘God, High Priest and Victim’. ‘He gave Himself for us for
redemption, for a purifying sacrifice for the universe’.[60]
“’For us He
became man and took on the form of a servant, he was led to death for our
iniquities’.[61]
“’He is God,
High Priest and Victim’.[62]
“’He was
Victim, but also High Priest; Priest, but also God; He offered as a gift to God
[His own] blood, but [by It] He cleansed the whole world; He was raised onto
the Cross, but to the Cross was nailed the sin of all mankind’.[63]
“He redeems the
world by His own blood’.[64]
“St. Athanasius
of Alexandria says about the Sacrifice of the Saviour on Golgotha: ‘He, being
the true Son of the Father, later became man for us so as to give Himself for
us as a sacrifice to the Father and redeem us through His sacrifice and
offering (Ephesians 5.2). He was the same Who in ancient times led the people
out of Egypt, and later redeemed all of us, or rather, the whole human race,
from death, and raised us from hell. He is the same Who from the age was
offered as a sacrifice, as a Lamb, and in the Lamb was represented
prefiguratively. And finally He offered Himself as a sacrifice for us. “For
even Christ our Pascha is sacrificed for us” (I
Corinthians 5.7).’[65]
“’By His death
was accomplished the salvation of all, and the whole of creation was redeemed.
He is the common Life of all, and He gave His body to death as a sheep for a
redemptive sacrifice for the salvation of all, though the Jews do not believe
this.’[66]
“St. Gregory of
Nyssa reasons in a similar way.
“‘Jesus, as
Zachariah says, is the Great High Priest (Zachariah 3.1), Who offered His Lamb,
that is, His flesh, in sacrifice for the sins of the world, and for the sake of
the children who partake of flesh and blood Himself partook of blood (Hebrews
11.14). This Jesus became High Priest after the order of Melchizedek, not in
respect of what He was before, being the Word and God and in the form of God
and equal to God, but in respect of that fact that He spent Himself in the form
of a servant and offered an offering and sacrifice for us’.[67]
“’He is our
Pascha (I Corinthians 5.6) and High Priest (Hebrews 12.11). For in truth Christ
the Pascha was consumed for us; but the priest who offers to God the Sacrifice
is none other than the Same Christ. For in Himself, as the [Apostle] says, “He
hath given Himself for us as an offering and sacrifice to God” (Ephesians
5.2).’[68]
“’By means of
priestly acts He in an ineffable manner unseen by men offers an offering and
sacrifice for us, being at the same time the Priest and the Lamb that takes
away the sins of the world’.[69]
“We find much
material on the given question in the same spirit in the works of St. John
Chrysostom.
“’The oeconomy
that was to be accomplished in the New Testament,’ says this Holy Father in his
interpretation on the Gospel of John, ‘was foreshadowed beforehand in
prefigurative images; while Christ by His Coming accomplished it. What then
does the type say? “Take ye a lamb for an house, and kill it, and do as He
commanded and ordained’ (Exodus 12). But Christ did not do
that; He did not command this, but Himself became as a Lamb, offering Himself
to the Father as a sacrifice and offering’.[70]
“’When John the
Forerunner saw Christ, he said to his disciples: “Behold the Lamb of God” (John 1.35). By this he
showed them all the gift which He came to give, and the manner of purification.
For “the Lamb” declares both these things. And John did not say, “Who shall
take”, or “Who hath taken”, but “Who taketh away the sins of the world”,
because Christ always does this. In fact, he took them away not only then when
He suffered, but from that time even to the present He takes away sins, not as
if He were always being crucified (for He at one time offered sacrifice for
sins), but since by that one sacrifice He is continually purging them.’[71]
“’This blood
was ever typified of old in the altars and sacrifices determined by the law. It
is the price of the world, by it Christ redeemed the Church, by it He adorned
the whole of her.’[72]
‘This blood in types cleansed sins. But if it had such power in the types, if
death so shuddered at the shadow, tell me how would it not have dreaded the
very reality?’[73]
“’David after
the words: “Sacrifice and offering hast Thou not desired”, added: “but a body
hast Thou perfected for me” (Psalm 39.9), understanding by this the
body of the Master, a sacrifice for the whole universe, which cleansed our
souls, absolved our sins, destroyed death, opened the heavens, showed us many
great hopes and ordered all the rest’.[74]
“St. John
Chrysostom’s reasoning on the mystery of the Sacrifice on Golgotha is
particularly remarkable in his discourse, On the Cross and the Thief,
which he delivered, as is evident from the discourse itself, on Great Friday in
Holy Week. ’Today our Lord Jesus Christ is on the Cross, and we celebrate, so
that you should know that the Cross is a feast and a spiritual triumph. Formerly
the Cross was the name of a punishment, but now it has become an honourable
work; before it was a symbol of condemnation, but now it has become the sign of
salvation… It has enlightened those sitting in darkness, it has reconciled us,
who were in enmity with God… Thanks to the Cross we do not tremble before the
tyrant, because we are near the King. That is why we celebrate in commemorating
the Cross…. In fact, one and the same was both victim and priest: the victim
was the flesh, and the priest was the spirit. One and the same offers and was
offered in the flesh. Listen to how Paul explained both the one and the other.
“For every high priest,” he says, “chosen from among men is appointed to act on
behalf of men in relation to God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins… Hence
it is necessary for this priest also to have something to offer” (Hebrews
5.1, 8.3). So He Himself offers Himself. And in another place he says that
“Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a
second time for salvation” (Hebrews 9.28)….’[75]
”St. Cyril of
Alexandria reasons as follows with regard to the words of John the Forerunner
on the Saviour: ‘”Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the
world” (John 1.29). It was necessary to reveal Who was the One Who
came to us and why He descends from heaven to us. And so “Behold”, he says,
“the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world”, to Whom the Prophet
Isaiah pointed in the words: “As a sheep for the slaughter is he led and as a
lamb before the shearers is he silent” (Isaiah 53.7) and Who was prefigured
in the law of Moses. But then He saved only in part, without extending His
mercy on all, for it was a figure and a shadow. But now He Who once was
depicted by means of enigmas, the True Lamb, the Spotless Victim, is led to the
slaughter for all, so as to expel the sin of the world and cast down the
destroyer of the universe, so that by His death for all He might abolish death
and lift the curse that was on us, so that, finally, the punishment that was
expressed in the words: “Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return” (Genesis
3.19) might cease and the second Adam might appear – not from the earth, but
from the heaven (I Corinthians 15.47) – and become for human nature
the beginning of a great good, the destruction of the corruption wrought [by
sin], the author of eternal life, the founder of the transformation [of man]
according to God, the beginning of piety and righteousness, the way to the
Heavenly Kingdom. One Lamb died for all, saving for God and the Father a whole
host of men, One for all so that all might be subjected to God, One for all so
as to acquire all, “that those who live might live no longer for themselves but
from Him Who for their sake died and was raised” (II
Corinthians 5.15). Insofar as
we were in many sins and therefore subject to death and corruption, the Father
gave the son to deliver us (I Timothy 2.6), One for all, since all
are in Him and He is above all. One died for all so that all should live in
Him.’[76]
St. Cyril’s general view of the death of Christ the Saviour on Golgotha is such
that on Golgotha Emmanuel ‘offered Himself as a sacrifice to the Father not for
Himself, according to the irreproachable teaching, but for us who were under
the yoke and guilt of sin’.[77]
‘He offered Himself as a holy sacrifice to God and the Father, having bought by
His own blood the salvation of all’.[78]
‘For our sakes he was subjected to death, and we were redeemed from our former
sins by reason of the slaughter which He suffered for us’.[79]
‘In Him we have been justified, freed from a great accusation and condemnation,
our lawlessness has been taken from us: for such was the aim of the oeconomy
towards us of Him Who because of us, for our sakes and in our place was subject
to death’.[80]
“St. Basil the Great in his epistle to
Bishop Optimus writes: ‘The Lord had to taste death for each, and having become
a propitiatory sacrifice for the world, justify all by His blood’.[81]
He develops his thought on the death on the Cross of Christ the Saviour in more
detail as a redeeming sacrifice for the sins of the human race in his
interpretation of Psalm 48, at the words: “There be some that trust in their
strength, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches. A brother
cannot redeem; shall a man redeem? He shall not give to God a ransom [exilasma] for himself, nor the price of the
redemption of his own soul” (Psalm 48.7-9): ‘This sentence is directed
by the prophet to two types of persons: to the earthborn and to the rich…. You,
he says, who trust in your own strength…. And you, he says, who trust in the
uncertainty of riches, listen…. You have need of ransoms that you may be
transferred to the freedom of which you were deprived when conquered by the
power of the devil, who, taking you under his control, does not free you from
his tyranny until, persuaded by some worthwhile ransom, he wishes to exchange
you. And the ransom must not be of the same kind as the things which are held
in his control, but must differ greatly, if he would willingly free the
captives from slavery. Therefore a brother is not able to ransom you. For no
man can persuade the devil to remove from his power him who has once been
subject to him, not he, at any rate, who is incapable of giving God a
propitiatory offering even for his own sins…. But one thing was found worth as
much as all men together. This was given for the price of ransom for our souls,
the holy and highly honoured blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, which He poured
out for all of us; therefore we were bought at a great price (I Corinthians 6.20)…. No one is sufficient to redeem himself, unless He
comes who turns away “the captivity of the people” (Exodus 13.8), not with ransoms nor
with gifts, as it is written in Isaiah (52.3), but with His own blood… He Who
“shall not give to God His own ransom”, but that of the whole world. He does
not need a ransom, but He Himself is the propitiation. “For it was fitting that
we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, undefiled, set apart from
sinners, and become higher than the heavens. He does not need to offer
sacrifices daily (as the other priests did), first for his own sins, and then
for the sins of the people” (Hebrews 7.26-27).’[82]
“’The Scriptures do not reject all
sacrifices in general,’ writes St. Basil the Great in his interpretation on the
book of the Prophet Isaiah, ‘but the Jewish sacrifices. For he says: “What to
Me is the multitude of your sacrifices?” (Isaiah 1.11). He does not approve of
the many, but demands the one sacrifice. Every person offers himself as a
sacrifice to God, presenting himself as “a living sacrifice, pleasing to God”,
through “rational service” he has offered to God the sacrifice of praise (Romans 12.1). But
insofar as the many sacrifices under the law have been rejected as useless, the
one sacrifice offered in the last times is accepted. For the Lamb of God took
upon Himself the sin of the world, “gave Himself up for us, a fragrant offering
and sacrifice to God” (Ephesians 5.2)… There are no longer the
“continual” sacrifices (Exodus 29.42), there are no
sacrifices on the day of atonement, no ashes of the heifer cleansing “the
defiled persons” (Hebrews 9.13). For there is one sacrifice of
Christ and the mortification of the saints in Christ; one sprinkling – “the
washing of regeneration” (Titus 3.5); one propitiation for sin – the
Blood poured out for the salvation of the world.’[83]
“Finally, St. John of Damascus says the
following about the mystery of the sacrifice on Golgotha: “Every action and
performance of miracles by Christ are most great and divine and marvelous: but
the most marvelous of all is His precious Cross. For no other thing has subdued
death, expiated the sin of the first parent [propatoroV amartia], despoiled Hades, bestowed
the resurrection, granted the power to us of condemning the present and even
death itself, prepared the return to our former blessedness, opened the gates
of Paradies, given our nature a seat at the right hand of God, and made us
children and heirs of God, save the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ’.[84]
Therefore, according to the words of the holy father, ‘we must bow down to the
very Wood on which Christ offered Himself as a sacrifice for us, since it is
sanctified through contact with the body and blood’.[85]
“This is what the Holy Fathers and
Teachers of the Church teach about the mystery of the sacrifice of the Saviour
on Golgotha for the sins of the human race. But that is not all. This teaching
was even formally confirmed by a whole local council of the Church of
Constantinople in 1156. This council was convened because of different
understandings of the well-known words in the liturgical prayer, where it is
said of Christ the Saviour: ‘Thou art He that offereth and is offered, that
accepteth and is distributed’.[86]
The initial reasons for this difference, according to the account of a
contemporary historian, Kinnamas, was the following circumstance. A certain
Deacon Basil during Divine service in the Church of St. John the Theologian
declared while giving a sermon on the daily Gospel reading that ‘the one Son of
God Himself became a sacrifice and accepted the sacrifice together with the
Father’. Two deacons of the Great Church who were present at this found in the
words of Basil an incorrect thought, as if two hypostases were thereby admitted
in Jesus Christ, of which one was offered in sacrifice and the other accepted
the sacrifice. Together with the others who thought like them they spread the
idea that the Saviour’s sacrifice for us was offered only to God the Father. In
order to obtain a more exact explanation and definition of the Orthodox
teaching, the conciliar sessions took place, at the will of the Emperor Manuel
Comnenus, on January 26 and May 12, 1156. The first conciliar session took
place in the hall attached to the Great Church as a result of the inquiry of
the just-appointed Metropolitan Constantine of Russia, who was hastening to
leave: was it truly necessary to understand the words of the prayer as he
understood them, that the sacrifice was offered and is offered to the whole of
the Holy Trinity? The council, under the presidency of the Patriarch of
Constantinople Constantine Kliarenos, confirmed the teaching expressed of old
by the Fathers and Teachers of the Church, whose works were read at the
council, that both at the beginning, during the Master’s sufferings, the
life-creating flesh and blood of Christ was offered, not to the Father only,
but also to the whole of the Holy Trinity, and now, during the daily performed
rites of the Eucharist, the bloodless sacrifice is offered to the Trihypostatic
Trinity”, and laid an anathema on the defenders of the error, whoever they
might be, if they still adhered to their heresy and did not repent. ”[87][88]
“From this historical note it is evident
that the council of 1156 considered it indisputable that the death of Christ
the Saviour on Golgotha is a propitiatory sacrifice for the human race. It was
occupied only with the question to which this sacrifice was offered and decided
it in the sense that the sacrifice was offered by Christ the Saviour to the
All-Holy Trinity. Moreover, Christ the Saviour Himself was at the same time
both the sacrifice and High Priest offering the sacrifice in accordance with
His human nature, and God receiving the sacrifice, together with the Father and
the Holy Spirit. According to the resolution of the council, the eucharistic
sacrifice is the same sacrifice, by its link with the sacrifice on Golgotha.
Those who thought otherwise were subjected by the council to anathema.”[89]
As St. Gregory of Nyssa writes: “He offered Himself for us, Victim and Sacrifice, and Priest as well, and ‘Lamb of God Who taketh away the sins of the world’. When did He do this? When He made His own Body food and His own Blood drink for His disciples, for this much is clear to anyone, that a sheep cannot be eaten by a man unless its being eaten be preceded by its being slaughtered. This giving of His own Body to His disciples for eating clearly indicates that the sacrifice of the Lamb has now been completed.” [90]
The Bostonite
bishops write: “In Archbishop Nikon’s Life and Works of Metropolitan Anthony
(vol. 5, pp. 171-172), Bishop Gabriel quotes Archbishop Theophan of
Poltava’s objections to The Dogma of Redemption. Archbishop Theophan
writes: ‘The death of Christ the Saviour on the Cross on Golgotha, according to
the teaching of the Holy Fathers, undoubtedly is a redemptive and propitiating
sacrifice for the sins of the race of man.’ Opposite this passage, in the
margin, Metropolitan Anthony has written: ‘I accept and do not deny’.” (p. 13)
But if Metropolitan Anthony accepts and does not deny this clear statement of the “juridical theory”, including such a purely juridical phrase as “propitiating sacrifice”, why does he still consider Metropolitan Philaret a scholastic? In what way was Archbishop Theophan’s statement Orthodox while Metropolitan Philaret’s in his Catechism (which we have quoted above) was heretical? Nowhere to our knowledge are we given answers to these questions, neither in Metropolitan Anthony’s works, nor in those of his supporters…
“Let our lives, then,” chants the Holy Church, “be worthy of the loving Father Who has offered sacrifice, and of the glorious Victim Who is the Saviour of our souls”.[91]
4. The Prayer in the Garden
The
natural and innocent passions [include] the shrinking from death, the fear, the
agony with the bloody sweat, the succour at the hands of angels because of the
weakness of the nature, and other such like passions which belong by nature to
every man.
St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, III, 24.
The Bostonite bishops write next to nothing about the topics discussed in the previous sections – that is, the language of the “juridical theory”, especially the concepts of the wrath of God, justification and sacrifice for sin. They take it as read that this language is somehow illegitimate and “scholastic”, although, as we have shown, it is in fact perfectly patristic and scriptural and in no way incompatible with right doctrine if properly understood. And so, rejecting the “negative” juridical theory, they turn to what Metropolitan Anthony calls his “positive” theory, “moral monism”, and in particular to his interpretation of the prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane in the context of that theory.
Since this is
the most famous part of the metropolitan’s theory, we shall quote
him at some length: “The word of instruction is good, still better is a good
example, but what shall we call a power incomparably superior to either of
these? This, which we have delayed to define, is compassionate love, this power
is suffering for another’s sake which sets a beginning to his regeneration. It
is a mystery, yet not so far removed from us; we can see it working before our
very eyes, sometimes even through us, though we do not always understand it. As
a power of regeneration we find it constantly mentioned not only in stories of
the lives of the Saints and the vitae of virtuous shepherds of the
Church, but also in the tales of secular literature which are at times wonderfully
profound and accurate. Both recognize in compassionate love an active,
revolutionary and often irresistible power; yet the former do not explain
wherein lies its connection with Christ as our Redeemer, and the latter do not
even understand it…
“Such strength of compassionate
love is the grace-filled fruit of a godly life and of nature (e.g., the love of
a Christian mother). This is within the reach of the laity who live in God, but
their sphere of action is limited to near relatives, or to students (of a pious
teacher), or to companions in work or companions by circumstance… However, when
all men in question, the earnest of this gift is imparted by the mystery of
Holy Orders. Our Scholastic theology has overlooked this fact, which is very clearly
expressed by Saint John Chrysostom,… who says, ‘Spiritual love is not born of
anything earthly; it comes from above, from Heaven, and is imparted in the
mystery of Holy Orders; but the assimilation and retention of the gift depends
on the aspirations of the spirit of man’…
“The compassionate love of a mother, a friend, a spiritual shepherd, or
an apostle is operative only if it attracts Christ, the true Shepherd. When it
acts within the limits of mere human relations, it can call forth a kindly attitude
and repentive [penitent] sentiments, but it cannot work radical regeneration.
The latter is so hard for our corrupt nature that not unjustly did Nicodemus,
talking with Christ, compare it to an adult person entering again into his
mother’s womb and being born for a second time. To this our Lord replied that
what is impossible in the life of the flesh is possible in the life of grace,
where the Holy Spirit, Who descends from Heaven, operates. In order to grant us
this life, Christ had to be crucified and raised, as the serpent was raised by
Moses in the wilderness, that all who believe in Him should not perish, but
have eternal life (John 3.13-15). So what those who possess grace can do to
some extent only and for some people only, our Heavenly Redeemer can do fully
and for all. Throughout the course of His earthly life, filled with the most
profound compassion for sinful humanity, He often exclaimed, ‘O faithless and
perverse generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I suffer with
you?’ (Matthew 17.17). He was oppressed with the greatest sorrows on the night
when the greatest crime in the history of mankind was committed, when the
ministers of God, with the help of Christ’s disciple, some because of envy,
some because of avarice, decided to put the Son of God to death.
“And a second time the same oppressing sorrow possessed His pure soul on
the Cross, when the cruel masses, far from being moved to pity by His terrible
physical sufferings, maliciously ridiculed the Sufferer; and as to His moral
suffering, they were unable even to surmise it. One must suppose that during
that night in Gethsemane, the thought and feeling of the God-Man embraced
fallen humanity numbering many, many millions, and He wept with loving sorrow
over each individual separately, as only the omniscient heart of God could do. In
this did our redemption consist. This is why God, the God-Man, and only He,
could be our Redeemer. Not an angel, nor a man. And not at all because the
satisfaction of Divine wrath demanded the most costly sacrifice. Ever since the
night in Gethsemane and that day on Golgotha, every believer, even he who is
just beginning to believe, recognizes his inner bond with Christ and turns to
Him in his prayers as to the inexhaustible source of moral regenerating force.
Very few are able to explain why they so simply acquired faith in the
possibility of deriving new moral energy and sanctification from calling on
Christ, but no believer doubts it, nor even do heretics.
“Having mourned with His loving soul over our imperfection and our
corrupt wills, the Lord has added to our nature the well-spring of new vital
power, accessible to all who have wished or ever shall wish for it, beginning
with the wise thief…
“… I have always been dissatisfied when
someone to whom I have explained redeeming grace retorts from a Scholastic,
theological viewpoint in this manner, ‘You have spoken only of the subjective,
the moral aspect of the dogma, leaving out the objective and metaphysical (that
is to say, the juridical).’ To all this I answer, ‘No, a purely objective law
of our spiritual nature is revealed in the transmission of the compassionate,
supremely loving energy of the Redeemer to the spiritual nature of the man who
believes and calls for this help, a law which is revealed in our dogmas, but of
which our dogmatic science has taken no notice.’”[92]
At this point, however, the metropolitan chooses to delay the
elucidation of his positive
theory in order to “refute the current understanding that our Lord’s
prayer in Gethsemane was inspired by fear of the approaching physical suffering
and death. This would be entirely unworthy of the Lord, whose servants in later
days (as well as in earlier times, as for instance, the Maccabees) gladly met
torture and rejoiced when their flesh was torn and longed to die for Christ as
it were the greatest felicity. Moreover, the Saviour knew well that His spirit
was to leave His body for less than two days, and for this reason alone the
death of the body could not hold any terror for Him.
“I am perfectly convinced that the
bitter sufferings of Christ in Gethsemane came from contemplation of the sinful
life and the wicked inclinations of all the generations of men, beginning with
His enemies and betrayers of that time, and that when our Lord said, ‘Father,
if Thou be willing, remove this cup from Me,’ He referred not to the
approaching crucifixion and death but to the overwhelming state of profound
sorrow which He felt for the human race He loved so dearly”.[93]
Now there is some patristic evidence for this view (it is quoted by the
Bostonite bishops). But there is still more evidence for the view, contested by
Metropolitan Anthony, that Christ allowed His human nature to experience the
fear of death that is natural to it and in no way sinful, in order to
demonstrate the reality of that nature.[94]
Moreover, this latter interpretation became particularly firmly established
after the Sixth Ecumenical Council had finally elucidated the doctrine of the
two wills of Christ, the locus
classicus for which is precisely the prayer in the Garden.
Thus the great champion of the two-wills doctrine, St. Maximus the
Confessor, whose teaching was confirmed at the Sixth Council, writes in his Dispute
with Pyrrhus: “Since the God of all Himself became man without [undergoing
any] change, then [it follows] that the same Person not only willed in a manner
appropriate to His Godhead, but also willed as man in a manner appropriate to
His humanity. For the things that exist came to be out of nothing, and have
therefore a power that draws them to hold fast to being, and not to non-being;
and the natural characteristic of this power is an inclination to that which
maintains them in being, and a drawing back from things destructive [to them].
Thus the super-essential Word, existing essentially in a human manner, also had
in His humanity this self-preserving power that clings to existence. And He [in
fact] showed both [aspects of this power], willing the inclination and the
drawing back through His human energy. He displayed the inclination to cling to
existence in His use of natural and innocent things, to such an extent that
unbelievers thought He was not God; and He displayed the drawing back at the
time of the Passion when He voluntarily balked at death.”[95]
The important word here is “voluntarily”. Although it was natural, and
not sinful, for Christ to fear death, since He was truly man, He did not have
to; He could have overcome that fear through the power of the grace that was
natural to Him as being truly God, which grace also overcame the fear of death
in the holy martyrs. But He chose not to overcome the fear that is in
accordance with nature (and which is to be clearly distinguished from that
irrational dread which is contrary to nature[96]),
in order to demonstrate the reality of that nature.
However, in case anyone should think that there was a conflict between
His human will and His Divine will, Christ immediately demonstrated the
complete obedience of His human will to the Divine will by the words:
“Nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt”, which sentence, as St. Maximus
explains, “excludes all opposition, and demonstrates the union of the [human]
will of the Saviour with the Divine will of the Father, since the whole Word
has united Himself essentially to the entirely of [human] nature, and has
deified it in its entirety by uniting Himself essentially to it”.[97]
St. John of Damascus sums up the patristic consensus on this point: “He
had by nature, both as God and as man, the power of will. But His human will
was obedient and subordinate to His Divine will, not being guided by its own
inclination, but willing those things which the Divine will willed. For it was
with the permission of the Divine will that He suffered by nature what was
proper to Him. For when He prayed that He might escape the death, it was with
His Divine will naturally willing and permitting it that He did so pray and
agonize and fear, and again when His Divine will willed that His human will
should choose the death, the passion became voluntary to Him. For it was not as
God only, but also as man, that He voluntarily surrendered Himself to the
death. And thus He bestowed on us also courage in the face of death. So,
indeed, He said before His saving passion, ‘Father, if it be possible, let this
cup pass from Me’ (Matthew 26.39; Luke 22.22), manifestly as though He were
to drink the cup as man and not as God. It was as man, then, that He wished the
cup to pass from Him: but these are the words of natural timidity.
‘Nevertheless,’ He said, ‘not My will’, that is to say, not in so far as I am
of a different essence from Thee, ‘but Thy will be done’, that is to say, My
will and Thy will, in so far as I am of the same essence as Thou. Now these are
the words of a brave heart. For the Spirit of the Lord, since He truly became
man in His good pleasure, on first testing its natural weakness was sensible of
the natural fellow-suffering involved in its separation from the body, but
being strengthened by the Divine will it again grew bold in the face of death.
For since He was Himself wholly God although also man, and wholly man although
also God, He Himself as man subjected in Himself and by Himself His human
nature to God and the Father, and became obedient to the Father, thus making
Himself the most excellent type and example for us”.[98]
Still more clearly, Theophylact of Bulgaria writes: “To confirm that He
was truly man, He permitted His human nature to do what is natural to it.
Christ, as man, desires life and prays for the cup [that is, death[99]]
to pass, for man has a keen desire for life. By doing these things, the Lord
confutes those heretics who say that He became man in appearance only. If they
found a way to utter such nonsense even though the Lord showed here such clear
signs of His human nature, what would they not have dared to invent if He had
not done these things? To want the cup removed is human. By saying without
hesitation, ‘Nevertheless not My will, but Thine, be done’, the Lord shows that
we too must have the same disposition and the same degree of equanimity,
yielding in all things to the will of God. The Lord also teaches here that when
our human nature pulls us in a different direction, we ought not to yield to
that temptation. ‘Not My human will be done, but Thine, yet Thy will is not
separate from My Divine will’. Because the one Christ has two natures, He also
had two natural wills, or volitions, one Divine and the other human. His human
nature wanted to live, for that is its nature. But then, yielding to the Divine
will common to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – namely, that all men be saved
– His human nature accepted death. Thus His two wills willed one and the same
thing: Christ’s salvific death. The praying in Gethsemane was from His human
nature which was permitted to suffer the human passion of love of life… His
human nature was permitted to suffer these things, and consequently did suffer
them, to prove that the Lord was truly human, and not a man in appearance only.
And, in a more mystical sense, the Lord voluntarily suffered these things in
order to heal human nature of its cowardice. He did this by using it all up
Himself, and then making cowardice obedient to the Divine will. It could be
said that the sweat which came out from the Lord’s Body and fell from Him
indicates that our cowardice flows out of us and is gone as our nature is made
strong and brave in Christ. Had He not desired to heal the fear and cowardice
of mankind, the Lord would not have sweated as He did, so profusely and beyond
even what the most craven coward would do. ‘There appeared an angel unto Him’,
strengthening Him, and this too was for our encouragement, that we might learn
the power of prayer to strengthen us, and having learned this, use it as our
defense in dangers and sufferings. Thus is fulfilled the prophecy of Moses,
‘And let all the sons of God be strengthened in Him’ [Deuteronomy 32.43]”.[100]
Returning now to Metropolitan Anthony’s thesis, we may agree that the positive idea here – that
the Lord suffered so terribly in contemplation of all the sins of all
generations of mankind – is illuminating and, if not developed in ancient
patristic thought, is nevertheless not contrary to it. However, the negative
idea – that He did not suffer in fear of death – is explicitly contradicted by
several of the Holy Fathers, as we have seen. Moreover, contrary to the
assertion of the Bostonite bishops, it is contradicted also by some modern
Fathers of the Russian Church who knew and respected Metropolitan Anthony, but
who in a tactful manner (as Fr. Seraphim Rose noted) corrected his mistake
while preserving his genuine insight.
Thus Archbishop
Averky of Syracuse and Holy Trinity Monastery writes: “Who among us sinful
people can dare to affirm that he really knows everything that took place in
the pure and holy soul of the God-Man at that minute when the decisive hour of
His betrayal to death on the Cross for the sake of mankind drew near? But
attempts were made in the past, and continue to be made now, to explain the
reasons for these moral torments of the Lord, which He experienced in the
garden of Gethsemane in those hours before His death. The most natural
suggestion is that His human nature was in sorrow and fear. ‘Death entered into
the human race unnaturally,’ says Blessed Theophylact: ‘therefore human nature
fears it and runs from it’. Death is the consequence of sin (Romans 5.12,15), and so
the sinless nature of the God-Man should not have submitted to death: death for
it was an unnatural phenomenon: which is why the sinless nature of Christ is
indignant at death, and sorrows and pines at its sight. These moral sufferings
of Christ prove the presence of the two natures in Him: the Divine and the
human, which the heretical Monophysites deny, as well as the Monothelites who
deny the two wills.
“Besides, these
moral sufferings undoubtedly also took place because the Lord took upon Himself
all the sins of the whole world and went to death for them: that which the
whole world was bound to suffer for its sins was now concentrated, so to speak,
on Him alone.”[101]
Again, St. John
Maximovich writes: “It was necessary that the sinless Saviour should take upon
Himself all human sin, so that He, Who had no sins of His own, should feel the
weight of the sin of all humanity and sorrow over it in such a way as was
possible only for complete holiness, which clearly feels even the slightest
deviation from the commandments and Will of God. It was necessary that He, in
Whom Divinity and humanity were hypostatically united, should in His holy,
sinless humanity experience the full horror of the distancing of man from his
Creator, of the split between sinful humanity and the source of holiness and
light – God. The depth of the fall of mankind must have stood before His eyes
at that moment; for man, who in paradise did not want to obey God and who
listened to the devil’s slander against Him, would now rise up against his
Divine Saviour, slander Him, and, having declared Him unworthy to live upon the
earth, would hang Him on a tree between heaven and earth, thereby subjecting
Him to the curse of the God-given law (Deuteronomy 21.22-23). It was necessary
that the sinless Righteous One, rejected by the sinful world for which and at
the hands of which He was suffering should forgive mankind this evil deed and
turn to the Heavenly Father with a prayer that His Divine righteousness should
forgive mankind, blinded by the devil, this rejection of its Creator and
Saviour...
“However, this
sacrifice would not be saving if He would experience only His personal
sufferings – He had to be tormented by the wounds of sin from which mankind was
suffering. The heart of the God-Man was filled with inexpressible sorrow. All
the sins of men, beginning from the transgression of Adam and ending with those
which would be done at the moment of the sounding of the last trumpet – all the
great and small sins of all men stood before His mental gaze. They were always
revealed to God – ‘all things are manifest before Him’ – but now their whole
weight and iniquity was experienced also by His human nature. His holy, sinless
soul was filled with horror. He suffered as the sinners themselves do not
suffer, whose coarse hearts do not feel how the sin of man defiles and how it
separates him from the Creator…
“However, the
spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. The spirit of Jesus now burns (Romans 12.11), wishing
only one thing – the fulfillment of the Will of God. But by its nature human
nature abhors sufferings and death (St. John of Damascus, An Exact
Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book 3, chapters 18, 20, 23, 24; Blessed
Theodoret; St. John of the Ladder, The Ladder, word 6, “On the
remembrance of death”). The Son of God
willingly accepted this weak nature. He gives Himself up to death for the
salvation of the world. And He conquers, although He feels the approaching fear
of death and abhorrence of suffering…. Now these sufferings will be especially
terrible, terrible not so much in themselves, as from the fact that the soul of
the God-Man was shaken to the depths…
“He offered up
prayers and supplications to Him Who was able to save Him from death (Hebrews
5.7), but He did not pray for deliverance from death. It is as if the Lord
Jesus Christ spoke as follows to His Father: ‘… Deliver Me from the necessity
of experiencing the consequences of the crime of Adam. However, this request is
dictated to Me by the frailty of My human nature; but let it be as is pleasing
to Thee, let not the will of frail human nature be fulfilled, but Our common,
pre-eternal Council. My Father! If according to Thy wise economy it is
necessary that I offer this sacrifice, I do not reject It. But I ask only one
thing: may Thy will be done. May Thy will be done always and in all things. As
in heaven with Me, Thine Only-Begotten Son, and Thee there is one will, so may
My human will here on earth not wish anything contrary to Our common will for
one moment. May that which was decided by us before the creation of the world
be fulfilled, may the salvation of the human race be accomplished. May the sons
of men be redeemed from slavery to the devil, may they be redeemed at the high
price of the sufferings and self-sacrifice of the God-Man. And may all the
weight of men’s sins, which I have accepted on Myself, and all My mental and
physical sufferings, not be able to make My human will waver in its thirst that
Thy holy will be done. May I do Thy will with joy. Thy will be done...
“’The Lord
prayed about the cup of His voluntary saving passion as if it was involuntary’
(Sunday service of the fifth tone, canon, eighth irmos), showing by this the
two wills of the two natures, and beseeching God the Father that His human will
would not waver in its obedience to the Divine will (Exact Exposition of the
Orthodox Faith, book 3, 24). An angel appeared to Him from the heavens and
strengthened His human nature (Luke 22.43), while Jesus Who was
accomplishing the exploit of His self-sacrifice prayed still more earnestly,
being covered in a bloody sweat. And for His reverence ”[102]
We see here that while St. John
accepts Metropolitan Anthony’s thought that Christ suffered for the sins of the
whole world in Gethsemane, he nevertheless, contrary to the Bostonites’
assertion, does not agree that He was not fearful at the prospect of death,
considering it in no way “unworthy” of the Saviour. For, as Archbishop Theophan
writes: “The manifestation of this infirmity of the human nature of the Saviour
represents nothing unworthy of His Most Holy Person, since it took place in
accordance with the free permission of His Divine will and had its economical
significance. The economical significance of this feat of the Saviour consists
in the fact that He witnessed thereby that the Saviour took upon Himself, not
illusory, but real human nature with all its sinless infirmities and conquered
one of the most important of these infirmities [the fear of death] in His
Person”.[103]
5. Gethsemane vs.
Golgotha
Thou hast redeemed us from the curse
of the law by Thy precious Blood: nailed to the Cross and pierced by the spear,
Thou hast poured forth immortality upon mankind.
Triodion, Great Friday, Mattins, Sessional
hymn.
Metropolitan
Anthony calls the night in Gethsemane “the night of redemption”.[104]
According to his critics, this shifts the focus of salvation from Golgotha to
Gethsemane, which is foreign to the mind of the Church as expressed in her
liturgical services. Moreover, to assert, as does Metropolitan Anthony of the
Lord’s suffering in Gethsemane, that “in this did our
redemption consist” would appear to some to imply that
it did not consist in the suffering and death of Christ on Golgotha.
In defence of
Metropolitan Anthony, Bishop Gregory Grabbe writes that “his words, ‘In this
did our redemption consist’ referred not only to Gethsemene, but to Golgotha
also” because he wrote: “And a second time also [Grabbe’s emphasis] the
same oppressing sorrow possessed His pure soul on the Cross”.[105]
This is true, and is sufficient to refute the extreme suggestion that
Metropolitan Anthony somehow “rejected the Cross of Christ” or denied its
saving significance altogether. We believe, therefore, that talk about a
“stavroclastic” heresy is exaggerated in this context. However, Bishop
Gregory’s words are not sufficient to deflect the charge that the metropolitan
placed undue emphasis on Gethsemane and thereby distorted the significance of
Golgotha. Moreover, as we shall see, the metropolitan’s explanation of the
unique significance of Golgotha – that is, the significance of Golgotha that
was not shared by Gethsemane – is inadequate.
The Bostonite
bishops quote Metropolitan Anthony: “We do not doubt for a moment that men
could not have been saved unless the Lord suffered and arose from the dead, yet
the bond between His suffering and our salvation is quite a different one [from
the juridical teaching]”.[106]
However, if this “other” bond was compassionate love, which manifested itself,
as the metropolitan contends, supremely in Gethsemane, and if it was in that
love “that our redemption consists”, what need was there for Him to die?
The
metropolitan’s answer to this question is: “Christ’s bodily suffering and death
were primarily necessary so that believers would value His spiritual
suffering as incomparably greater than His bodily tortures”.[107]
Again he writes: “The Lord’s crucifixion and death are not without meaning for
our salvation, for, by bringing men to compunction, they reveal at least some
portion of the redemptive sacrifice, and, by leading them to love for Christ,
they prove saving for them and for all of us”.[108]
In other words, Golgotha was a repetition of Gethsemane with the addition of
bodily suffering, which bodily suffering, though far less valuable than his
spiritual sufferings, had a certain didactic value in heightening the awareness
of the far more important spiritual suffering (although for the Catholics, it
would seem, the bodily suffering distracted attention away from the
spiritual suffering). But then Golgotha added nothing essential, by which we
mean dogmatically or ontologically or soteriologically essential.
Indeed, if our redemption consists, as the metropolitan explicitly asserts, in Ñhrist’s compassionate
suffering for the whole of sinful mankind in Gethsemane, it was not necessary
for Him to die, but only to suffer.
And yet it was
only when He voluntarily gave up His soul in death that He declared: “It is
finished”, Consummatum est, that is, My redemptive work for the
salvation of men is completed, consummated. As St. John of Damascus writes:
“[The Cross] is the crown of the Incarnation of the Word of God.”[109]
“Every act and miraculous energy of Christ is very great and divine and
marvelous, but the most amazing of all is His precious Cross. For death was not
abolished by any other means; the sin of our forefathers was not forgiven;
Hades was not emptied and robbed; the resurrection was not given to us; the
power to despise the present and even death itself has not been given to us;
our return to the ancient blessedness was not accomplished; the gates of
Paradise have not been opened; human nature was not given the place of honor at
the right hand of God; we did not become children and inheritors of God, except
by the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ alone. All these have been achieved by
the death of the Lord on the Cross.”[110]
It is important
to stress the word voluntary nature of Christ’s death on the Cross. Sinful men
cannot avoid death since it is the wages of sin. But for Christ, Who had no
sin, it was by no means inevitable. He could have chosen to suffer but not to die,
and to come off the Cross, presenting His body completely healed from wounds
and invulnerable to death, as some of the holy martyrs emerged fully healthy
after their tortures. This would have involved no lessening of the significance
of His suffering in Gethsemane and Golgotha. But it would have meant that His
redemptive work was incomplete.
For Christ came
to save men not only from sin, but also from death, not only from the
perversion of their wills, but also from the division of their nature. And in
order to do that He had to take on both their sin and their
death. For, in accordance with the patristic dictum, that which is not assumed
is not saved. So Christ allowed His human soul to be separated from His body.
But since His Divinity was still united to both His soul and His body, death
could not hold them, and they were reunited in the resurrection. Thus did He
trample down death, as the Paschal troparion chants, – the death of men, which
is the wages of sin and which is involuntary by His own Death, which took place
in spite of His sinlessness and was voluntary.
Another Paschal
troparion declares, “In the grave bodily, but in hades with Thy soul as God; in
Paradise with the thief, and on the throne with the Father and the Spirit wast
Thou Who fillest all things, O Christ the Inexpressible”. It was this
continuing union of God the Life with death which destroyed death. For the
unnatural union of life with death, the perfect expression of holiness with the
penalty decreed for sin, could not be sustained; in fact, it could not continue
even for one moment. And so at the very moment of Christ’s Death, our death was
destroyed, hades was burst asunder “and many bodies of the saints arose” (Matthew
27.53). At that moment truly, and not a moment before, could He say: “It
is finished”…
Moreover, as
St. Paul points out, the sealing of the New Testament was impossible without
the death of the testator: “He is the Mediator of the New Testament, so that by
means of the death which took place for redemption from the transgressions
under the first Testament, they who have been called might receive the promise
of the eternal inheritance. For where a testament is, it is necessary for the
death of the one who made a disposition for himself to be brought forward. For
a testament is confirmed over those who are dead, since it never hath strength
when the one who maketh the disposition liveth. Wherefore neither hath the
first been inaugurated without blood” (Hebrews 9.15-18).
Bishop Theophan
the Recluse comments on this passage: “Evidently the death of Jesus Christ
disturbed many of the weaker ones: if He was dead, they said, how is He the
eternal Intercessor for people and how can He deliver that which He promises?
St. Paul in removing this doubt shows that it is precisely by dint of the fact
that He died that His Testament is firm: for people do not talk about a
testament (will) in the case of those who are alive (St. Chrysostom).”[111]
In answer to
this the defenders of Metropolitan Anthony point out that we are redeemed not
only by the death of Christ, but by the whole of His life on earth. This is
true, but does not annul the other truth that the death of Christ was
absolutely essential for our salvation as its climax and crown. As St. Gregory
the Theologian puts it: “We needed an Incarnate God, God put to death, that
we might live”.[112]
For if Christ
had not tasted death in the flesh He would not have plumbed the very depths of
sinful man’s condition, He would not have destroyed “the last enemy” of
mankind, which is death (I Corinthians 15.26). For without the death
of Christ there would have been no Sacrifice for sin, no descent into hades,
and no resurrection from the dead. “And if Christ is not risen, your faith is
in vain; ye are still in your sins” (I Corinthians 15.17).
As Fr. George
Florovsky writes: “Suffering is not yet the whole Cross. The Cross is more than
merely suffering Good. The sacrifice of Christ is not yet exhausted by His
obedience and endurance, forbearance, compassion, all-forgivingness. The one
redeeming work of Christ cannot be separated into parts. Our Lord’s earthly
life is one organic whole, and His redeeming action cannot be exclusively
connected with any one particular moment in that life. However, the climax of
this life was its death. And the Lord plainly bore witness to the hour of
death: “For this cause came I unto this hour” (John 12.27)... Redemption was accomplished on the Cross, ‘by
the blood of His Cross’ (Colossians 1.20; cf. Acts 20.28, Romans 5.9, Ephesians
1.7, Colossians 1.14, Hebrews 9.22, I John 1.7, Revelation
1.5-6, 5.9). Not by the suffering of the Cross only, but precisely by the death
on the Cross. And the ultimate victory is wrought, not by sufferings or
endurance, but by death and resurrection…”[113]
And Fr. George
adds: “ Usually these two facts are not sufficiently distinguished: the
sufferings and the death. This hinders one from drawing the right conclusions.
In particular this can be seen in the theological reasonings of his Eminence
Metropolitan Anthony… He opposes Gethsemane to Golgotha precisely because he
with reason considers the ‘spiritual sufferings’ to be more valuable than the
‘bodily sufferings’. But death needs to be explained, and not only the
sufferings of death...”[114]
As Hieromonk Augustine (Lim) has pointed
out, the Nicene Creed says of the Lord that He “was crucified, suffered and was
buried”, not “suffered, was crucified and was buried”. This order of
words shows that the critical, so to speak, suffering of Christ was the
suffering after His Crucifixion, the suffering precisely of His death
on Golgotha. If, on the other hand, Gethsemane had been the place of our
redemption, we would have expected the reverse order: “suffered, crucified and
was buried”.[115]
And if it be objected that death came rather as a relief from His sufferings, so that the real exploit consisted in His sufferings before death, we should remind ourselves what death meant for Him Who is Life: something inconceivable to the human mind. For us death, though unnatural in essence, has nevertheless become in a certain sense natural – in the same sense that sin has become natural or “second nature” to us since the fall. But “God did not create death”, and if it seemed “folly to the Greeks” for the Creator to become His creature, it must have seemed worse than folly to them for Life to undergo death. Moreover, both life and death in our fallen, human condition were an immeasurable torment for the Sinless One, infinitely more painful than the life and death of sinners; for every aspect of that life and death, together with every suffering in it, was undertaken voluntarily.
As Vladimir Lossky writes, interpreting the thought of St. Maximus the Confessor, "by assimilating the historic reality in which the Incarnation had to take place He introduced into His Divine Person all sin-scarred, fallen human nature. That is why the earthly life of Christ was a continual humiliation. His human will unceasingly renounced what naturally belonged to it, and accepted what was contrary to incorruptible and deified humanity: hunger, thirst, weariness, grief, sufferings, and finally, death on the cross. Thus, one could say that the Person of Christ, before the end of His redemptive work, before the Resurrection, possessed in His Humanity as it were two different poles - the incorruptibility and impassibility proper to a perfect and deified nature, as well as the corruptibility and passibility voluntarily assumed, under which conditions His kenotic Person submitted and continued to submit His sin-free Humanity."[116]
This horrific and continual struggle, which had reached one climax in Gethsemane, reached a still higher one at Golgotha. For if it was utterly unnatural and a continual torment for Sinless Life to live the life of sinners (in St. Paul's striking and paradoxical words, "God hath made Him to be sin for us, Who knew no sin" (II Corinthians 5.21), experiencing all the horror of sin in His sinless soul, in which, in the words of St. Philaret of New York, “every sin burned with the unbearable fire of hell”,[117] it was still more unnatural and tormenting for Him to die the death of sinners. This death meant the voluntary rending apart of His own most perfect creation, His human nature, separating the soul and the body which, unlike the souls and bodies of sinners, had lived in perfect harmony together. It meant a schism in the life of God Himself, a schism so metaphysically and ontologically unthinkable that even the sun hid its rays and the rocks were burst asunder. It meant a schism, so to speak, of God from God, eliciting the cry: “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27.46).
As God, of course, He was not, and never could be, separated from His Father, as was triumphantly demonstrated at the Resurrection. But as Man, He allowed Himself to feel the full accursedness of men in their separation from God - an accursedness unspeakably the greater for Him Who said: "I and the Father are one" (John 10.30).[118] As St. Basil the Great says, He “redeemed us from being accursed by becoming Himself a curse and suffering the most dishonourable death in order to lead us again to the glorious life.”[119] Thus the atonement (at-one-ment) of man by God and with God was accomplished by the disjunction, if it were possible, of God from God – not as God, but as Man.
Moreover, as the Head of the Body of Israel which at this very moment fell away from God, He felt her accursedness, too. St. Augustine has developed this point in a very illuminating way in his commentary on the Psalm from which the Lord was quoting: "The full and perfect Christ… is Head and Body. When Christ speaks, sometimes He speaks in the Person of the Head alone, our Saviour Himself, born of the Virgin Mary, at other times in the person of His Body, which is the holy Church spread throughout the world... Now if Christ I s in very truth without sin and without transgression, we begin to doubt whether these words of the Psalm ['There is no peace for my bones because of My sins'] can be His. Yet it would be very unfortunate and contradictory if the Psalm just quoted did not refer to Christ, when we find His passion set forth there as clearly as it is related in the Gospel. For there we find: 'They parted My garments amongst them, and upon My vesture they cast lots.' Why did our Lord Himself as He hung on the cross recite with His own lips the first verse of this very Psalm, saying: 'My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?' What did He mean us to understand, but that this Psalm refers to Him in its entirety, since He Himself uttered the opening words? Where, again, it goes on to speak of 'the words of My sins', the voice is undoubtedly that of Christ. How 'sins', I ask, unless sins of His Body which is the Church? For here the Body is speaking as well as the Head. How do they speak as one Person? Because 'they shall be', He says, 'two in one flesh'... So we must listen as to one Person speaking, but the Head as Head and the Body as Body. We are not separating two Persons but drawing a distinction in dignity: the Head saves, the Body is saved. The Head must show mercy, the Body bewail its misery. The office of the Head is the purgation of sins, that of the Body the confession of them; yet there is but one voice, and no written instructions to inform us when the Body speaks and when the Head. We can tell the difference when we listen; but He speaks as one individual... You may never exclude the Head when you hear the Body speaking, nor the Body when you hear the Head; for now they are not two but one flesh."[120]
Let us return
to the point that Christ’s sufferings in Gethsemane were caused by His
(perfectly natural and innocent) fear of death. This is evident also from His
use of the word “cup”, which, as we have seen, means “death”. Now the cup of
death is also the cup of the Eucharist; that is, the cup of Golgotha is the cup
of the Mystical Supper; for both cups contain blood, the blood of the Sacrifice
already accomplished in death.[121]
This shows, on
the one hand, that the redeeming Sacrifice had already been mystically
accomplished even before the prayer in the Garden, in the Upper Room.
For as St. Gregory of Nyssa writes, “By offering His Body as food, He clearly
showed that the Sacrificial Offering of the Lamb had already been accomplished.
For the Sacrificial Body would not have been suitable for food if it were still
animated”.[122] But on
the other hand it shows that our redemption consists precisely in Christ’s Death,
and that if there had been no Death there would have been no Sacrifice and no
redemption. So to concentrate on the sufferings in Gethsemane while ignoring
the mystery that was accomplished both before and after them, in the Upper Room
and on Golgotha, is to ignore the very Dogma of Redemption…
6. The Theory of
“Moral Monism”
For us the monarchy is formed by
equality of nature, harmony of will, and identity of activity, and the
concurrence with the One of the Beings which derive from the One, a unity
impossible among creatured beings.
St. Gregory the Theologian, Sermon 29,
2.
Let us recall
the metropolitan’s words: “a purely objective law of our
spiritual nature is revealed in the transmission of the compassionate,
supremely loving energy of the Redeemer to the spiritual nature of the man who
believes and calls for this help, a law which is revealed in our dogmas, but of
which our dogmatic science has taken no notice.” The problem is: if dogmatic
science has taken no notice of this law, which was supposedly revealed
explicitly for the first time by Metropolitan Anthony, it is hardly surprising
that the metropolitan can find few, if any, patristic statements to support it.
It is not that the Fathers deny the great power and significance of Christ’s
compassionate love for the salvation of mankind. On the contrary: the greatness
of that love, and its overwhelming significance for our salvation is not
disputed by anyone. But the motivation for the saving work of Christ, love,
must not be confused with the work itself, the restoration of justice in the
relations between God and man, the justification of mankind, nor with the fruit
of that justification in the individual believer, which consists in his renewal
and deification by ascetic endeavour and the communion of the Holy Spirit.
How, according
to Metropolitan Anthony, is the “compassionate, supremely loving energy of the
Redeemer” transmitted to the believer? His answer turns on the distinction,
familiar from Trinitarian theology, between the concepts of "nature"
and "person". Just as in the Holy Trinity there is one Divine nature
but three Divine Persons, so in our created race there is one human nature but
many human persons. Or rather: originally, before the entrance of sin, there
was a single human nature, but since the fall sin has divided this nature into
many pieces, as it were, each piece being the jealously guarded possession of a
single egotistical individual. However, the original unity of human nature
still exists in each person, and it is this original unity which Christ
restored on the Cross (or rather, in Metropolitan Anthony’s thought: in
Gethsemane).
“By nature,” he
writes, “especially the human nature, we are accustomed to mean only the
abstraction and the summing up of properties present in every man separately
and therefore composing one general abstract idea, and nothing else. But Divine
revelation and the dogmas of our Church teach differently concerning the
nature… the nature is not an abstraction of the common attributes of different
objects of persons made by our minds, but a certain real, essence, real will
and force, acting in separate persons….”[123]
There is a
certain confusion of concepts here; for, as Archbishop Theophan of Poltava
writes, “in patristic literature power and will are only properties of human
nature, they do not constitute the nature itself (St. John of Damascus, Exact
Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book II, chapters 22 and 23)”.[124]
However, let us
continue with Metropolitan Anthony’s exposition: “In spite of all our human
separateness,… we cannot fail to notice within ourselves the manifestations of
the collective universal human will; a will which is not of me, but in me,
which I can only partially renounce, with much labor and struggle. This will is
given to me from without, and yet at the same time it is mine. This is pre-eminently
the common human nature. First, we must place here our conscience, which
was given to us, and which almost no man can completely resist; also our direct
involvement and compassion with our neighbor, parental affections and much
else. Among these attributes are also evil desires, likewise seemingly imposed
on us from without: self-love, revengefulness, lust and so on. These are the
manifestations of our fallen nature, against which we can and must struggle.
And so the nature of all men is the same: it is the impersonal but powerful
will which every human person is obliged to take into account, whichever way
the personal free will may be turned: toward good or toward evil. It is to this
also that we must ascribe the law of existence whereby only through the union
of a father and mother can a man be born into the world… If you cannot imagine
that you hold your soul in common with others, then read in the book of Acts,
‘One was the heart and the soul of the multitude of them that believed’ (4.32).
And another record taken from life is given by Saint Basil the Great.
Describing the unanimity and victory over self-love of the monks of his day,
Saint Basil continues, ‘These men restore the primal goodness in eclipsing the
sin of our forefather Adam; for there would be no divisions, no strife, no war
among men, if sin had not made cleavages in the nature… they gather the (one) human nature, which
had been torn and cloven into thousands of pieces, once more to itself and
to God. And this is the chief in the Saviour’s incarnate oeconomy: to gather
human nature to itself and to Himself and, having abolished this evil cleavage,
to restore the original unity”.[125]
At this point the
question arises: can such diverse phenomena as conscience, the fallen passions,
the natural (innocent) passions, and the grace-created unity of the early
Christians and of the true monastic communities be united under a single
heading or concept of human nature? And this leads to the further question:
would such an understanding of human nature be patristic? However, before
attempting to answer these questions, let us follow the metropolitan’s argument
to the end:
“The Lord also
teaches of a new Being, in whom He will be, and in whom He is already united to
the faithful, like a tree which remains the same plant in all of its branches
(John 15.1-9). And so the unity of the human nature, undone by the sin of Adam
and his descendants, is to be gradually restored through Christ and His
redeeming love with such power, that in the future life this oneness will be
expressed more strongly than it can now be by the multitude of human persons,
and Christ, united with us all into one Being, shall be called the New Man, or
the One Church, being (in particular) its Head.
“It appears to me
that we have, according to our power, cleared the way to a more perfect
understanding of the mystery of redemption, of its essential, its objective
side. The salvation which Christ brought to humanity consists not only of the
conscious assimilation of Christ’s principle truths and of His love, but also
of the fact that by means of His compassionate love Christ demolishes the
partition which sin sets up between men, restores the original oneness of
nature, so that the man who has subjected himself to this action of Christ
finds new dispositions, new feelings and longings, not only in his thoughts,
but also in his very character, these being created not by himself, but coming
from Christ who has united Himself to him. It then remains for the free will either
to call all these to life or wickedly to reject them. The influence of the
compassionate love a mother, a friend, a spiritual shepherd, consists (though
to a much lesser degree) in this same penetration into the very nature (fusiV), the very soul of a man…. The
direct entrance of Christ’s nature, of His good volitions into our nature is
called grace, which is invisibly poured into us in the various inner states and
outer incidents of our life, and especially in the Holy Mysteries… The
subjective feeling of compassionate love becomes an objective power which
restores the oneness of human nature that had been destroyed by sin, and which
is transmitted from one human soul to others”.[126]
The confusion of
concepts here is startling. Thus the metropolitan writes: “The salvation which
Christ brought to humanity consists not only of the conscious assimilation of
Christ’s principle truths and of His love, but also of the fact that by means
of His compassionate love Christ demolishes the partition which sin sets up
between men” But what is the difference between “the conscious assimilation of
Christ’s love”, on the one hand, and “His compassionate love” whereby He
destroys the partition set up by sin? What is the distinction between the two
loves?
Again, we have
already noted the very wide range of phenomena that the metropolitan includes
under the heading of human nature: conscience, fallen and natural passions, the
unity of the Church… Here he broadens the concept still further, but in an
altogether inadmissible direction, defining it as grace: “The direct
entrance of Christ’s nature, of His good volitions into our nature is called
grace” But grace is not human at all: according to the teaching of the
Orthodox Church, it is the uncreated energies of God, the “actions”, so
to speak, of the Divine nature.
It is indeed
grace – that is, the Divine energies of Christ – that unites and
reunites men. But not only is grace not human nature – neither Christ’s nor
anyone else’s. It also does not “reunite human nature” in the sense that the
metropolitan would have it, for the simple reason that human nature, as opposed
to human persons and wills, has never been divided. As persons we have been
divided by sin, but we remain one in our common human nature.
It is important
to be precise about that in which men are divided by sin and are reunited by
grace. They cannot be divided, according to St. Maximus the Confessor, by
nature. They are divided in their moral capabilities – goodness and
wisdom - which are not nature itself, but movements or modalities of
nature: “Evil is perceived not in the nature of creatures, but in their
sinful and irrational movement”[127]
Again, St. Maximus writes: “[The devil] separated our will from God and us from
each other. Diverting [man] from the straight path, [he] divided the image of
his nature, splitting it up into a multitude of opinions and ideas”[128]
Thus it is our wills, meaning our free choices, that are divided; it is
not the nature of man that is divided, but the “image” of his nature, his
“opinions and ideas”.
This point is
well made by St. Maximus the Confessor in his Dispute with Pyrrhus:
“Pyrrhus. Virtues, then, are natural things? Maximus.
Yes, natural things. Pyrrhus. If they are natural things, why [then]
do they not exist in all men equally, since all men have an identical nature? Maximus.
But they do exist equally in all men because of the identical nature. Pyrrhus.
Then why is there such a great inequality [of virtues] in us? Maximus. Because
we do not all practise what is natural to us to an equal degree; indeed, if we
did practise to an equal degree [those virtues] natural to us, as we were
created to do, then one could be able to perceive one virtue in us all just as
there is one nature [in us all], and that one virtue would not admit of a
‘more’ or a ‘less’.”[129]
Only in one
sense can we talk about human nature – as opposed to human persons or wills –
being in a real sense divided. And that is in the sense of death. Death
is the division of human nature – first the division of the spirit, God’s
grace, from the soul and the body, and then the division of the soul from the
body. If human nature is understood as being unitary (and not as a composite of
two natures, spiritual and material), then the division of the soul from the
body at death does indeed constitute a division of human nature. (But our death
was destroyed, as we have seen, not by the sufferings of Christ in Gethsemane,
but by His Death on the Cross…)
How, then, are
we to understand the quotations cited by Metropolitan Anthony, which appear to
assert that our human nature was divided – really, and not metaphorically. It
will be sufficient to reconsider the quotation from St. Basil in order to see
that a division of persons and not of nature was in
question here. The monks who practise the coenobitic life do not literally reunite
their cloven human natures: rather, they reestablish unanimity, unity of will,
through the subjection of all their individual free wills to the will of the
abbot.
“Of this we
will become convinced,” writes Archbishop Theophan, “if we reproduce the
passage in question in a fuller form. ‘That communion of life we call the most
perfect,’ says St. Basil here, ‘means the ascetics living according to the
coenobitic rule that excludes private property and drives out contrariness of
dispositions, by which all disturbances, quarrels and arguments are destroyed
at the root, having everything in common, both souls and dispositions and
bodily powers, and what is necessary for the nourishment of the body and for
its service, in which there is a common God, a common purchase of piety, a
common salvation, common ascetic exploits, common labours, common crowns, in
which many constitute one and each person is not one but one among many. What
is equal to this life? What is more perfect than this closeness and this unity?
What is more pleasant than this merging of manners and souls? People who have
come from various tribes and countries have brought themselves into such
complete identity that in many bodies we see one soul, and many bodies are the
instruments of one will. It was God’s will that we should be like that at
the beginning; it was with this aim that He created us. These men restore the
primal goodness in eclipsing the sin of our forefather Adam; for there would be
no divisions, no strife, no war among men, if sin had not made cleavages in the
nature… As far as they are able, they
once again gather the human nature, which had been torn and cloven into
thousands of pieces, into unity both with themselves and with God. For this is the main thing in the Saviour’s
economy in the flesh – to bring human nature into unity with itself and with
the Saviour and, having destroyed the evil cutting up [into parts], restore the
original unity; just as the best doctor by healing medicines binds up the body
that was torn into many parts’.
“To every
unprejudiced reader it is clear that in this passage the subject is the moral,
or, more exactly, the grace-filled moral unity of the members of the ascetic
coenobium with themselves and with God through the medium of one will, which in
the present case is the will of the superior, who incarnates in himself the
will of God. ‘Every good order and agreement among many,’ says St. Basil in his
sermon On the Judgement of God, ‘is successfully maintained as long as
all are obedient to one leader. And all discord and disharmony and
multiplicity of authorities is the consequence of lack of authority’. Apart
from anything else, we are forbidden from understanding the restoration of the
original unity of human nature in the metaphysical sense in which Metropolitan
Anthony thinks of it, by the fact that we are here talking about the
restoration of the original unity of human nature not only with itself but also
with God. But not only not St. Basil the Great, but also not one of the Fathers
of the Church ever permitted and could not permit any thought of an original
unity of human nature with the nature of God, in the sense of a metaphysical,
essential unity. Such a unity is possible only in the pantheistic world-view.”[130]
In any case,
writes Archbishop Theophan, “Only in relation to the absolute Divine [nature]
is the concept of nature used by the Fathers of the Church in an absolute
sense, insofar as the Divine nature is absolutely one both in concept and in
reality. But in relation to the units of created nature, and in particular to
people, the concept of one nature is understood in the sense of complete unity
only abstractly, insofar as every concept of genus or species is one, but in
application to reality it indicates only the oneness of the nature of all the
units of the given genus.”[131]
And he quotes
St. John of Damascus: “One must know that it is one thing to perceive in deed,
and another in mind and thought. In all created beings the difference between
persons is seen in deed. For in (very) deed we see that Peter is different from
Paul. But communality and connection and oneness are seen in mind and thought.
For in mind we notice that Peter and Paul are of one and the same nature and
have one common nature. For each of them is a living, rational, mortal being;
and each is flesh enlivened by a soul which is both rational and endowed with
discrimination. And so this common nature can be perceived in the mind, for the
hypostases are not in each other, but each is a separate individual, that is,
taken separately by itself, there is very much distinguishing it from the
others. For they are distinct and different in time, in mind and in strength, in
external appearance (that is, in form), and in condition, temperament, dignity,
manner of life and every distinguishing characteristic. Most of all they differ
in that they do not exist in each other, but separately. Hence it comes that we
can speak of two, three or many men. And this may be perceived throughout the
whole of creation.
“But in the
case of the holy and superessential and incomprehensible Trinity, far above
everything, it is quite the reverse. For there the community and unity are
perceived in deed, because of the co-eternity [of the Persons] and the identity
of their essence and activity and will, and because of the agreement of their
cognitive faculty, and identity of power and strength and grace. I did not say:
similarity, but: identity, and also of the unity of the origin of their
movement. For one is the essence, and one the grace, and one the strength, and
one the desire and one the activity and one the power – one and the same, not
three similar to each other, but one and the same movement of the three
Persons. For each of them is no less one with Itself as with each other,
because the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are one in all respects except
the unbegottenness [of the Father], the begottenness [of the Son] and the
procession [of the Holy Spirit]. But it is by thought that the difference is
perceived. For we know one God; but in thought we recognize the difference –
only in the attributes of fatherhood and sonship and procession, both in
relation to cause, and to effect, and to the fulfillment, that is, form of
existence, of the Hypostasis. For in relation to the indescribable Divinity we
cannot speak of separation in space, as we can about ourselves, because the
Hypostases are in each other, not so as to be confused, but so as to be closely
united, according to the word of the Lord Who said: ‘I am in the Father, and
the Father in Me’ (John 14.11). Nor can we speak of a
difference of will or reason or activity or strength or anything else, which
may produce a real and complete separation in us”.[132]
Our conclusion,
then, is that human nature is one, even in the fall, although only relatively,
not in the absolute sense appropriate only to the Divine nature possessed by
the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity. Sin is not a part of nature, but is a
movement of the will of the individual person in a direction contrary to
nature. Therefore it is our wills that have to be reunited by
redirecting them in a direction in accordance with our nature, which
redirection will bring them into unity with each other and with the will of
God. This redirection is accomplished by our wills working in synergy with the
grace of God, which is communicated to us in the sacraments of the Church,
especially the Body and Blood of Christ.
Metropolitan
Anthony’s theory is acceptable only if we interpret his term “nature” to mean
the deified Body and Blood of Christ communicated to us in the Eucharist, and
only if we interpret “the restoration of the unity of human nature” to mean the
re-establishment of the unity of the wills of men both with each other
and with the will of God. In the Eucharist the compassionate love of Christ is
indeed transmitted to us through His deified human nature; and if our wills
respond to this sacred gift (which is by no means “irresistible”, and never
violates the free will of any of its recipients), then we will experience the
truth of the words: “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature” (II Corinthians 5.17). But once again: this gift is the fruit, not of
Gethsemane, but of Golgotha, not (or rather: not primarily) of the purely
spiritual sufferings of Christ in the Garden, but of the Sacrifice of His soul and
body on the altar of the Cross…
7. Original Sin
What mystery is this concerning us?
How have we been delivered to corruption? How have we been yoked to death? All
this, so it is written, is by the command of God.
Triodion, Saturday of Souls, Vespers,
“Lord, I have cried…”, Glory…
An integral
part of Metropolitan Anthony’s critique of the so-called “juridical theory” is
his onslaught on the doctrine of original sin. The Bostonite bishops summarise
his critique as follows:
“1) The
Scholastic dogma of our inherited guilt of ‘Original Sin’ is false. We are not
morally responsible for Adam’s sin, we do not bear any guilt for his sin,
(nor, in reverse, is he responsible for all our own subsequent sins).
“2) From Adam
we do inherit mortality and a proclivity towards sinning. By his sin,
Adam was exiled from Paradise to this corruptible world. We are his children
born in exile.
“3) God is not
unjust in allowing us to receive this fallen nature as descendants of Adam,
because He foreknew that each of us would sin, and that even if we ourselves
had been in Adam’s stead in Paradise, we nevertheless would have transgressed
in like manner as he. Thus, our fallen nature is neither a burden unfairly
placed upon us by God, nor is it an excuse for our personal sins. Man is free
and morally responsible.
“Many of
Metropolitan Anthony’s critics, including Archbishop Theophan of Poltava, seem
to have utterly failed to comprehend the great gulf that separates the
patristic Orthodox doctrine concerning the Ancestral Sin of Adam from the
heretical Augustinian doctrine of Original Sin.” (p. 18).
Unfortunately,
it is not Archbishop Theophan, but the Bostonite bishops who have “utterly
failed to comprehend” the essence of this matter, as we shall now try to
demonstrate.
Much of the
argument has revolved around the correct translation and interpretation of the
words: “By one man sin entered into the world, and so death entered all men by
sin, because – or, according to another translation: for in him -
all have sinned’ (Romans 5.12).
Archbishop Theophan writes: “His Eminence
Metropolitan Anthony in his Catechism gives a new interpretation of the
cited words of the Apostle Paul, and, in accordance with this interpretation,
put forwards a new teaching on original sin, which essentially almost
completely overthrows the Orthodox teaching on original sin.”[133]
In the opinion
of Metropolitan Anthony, these words from the Apostle Paul are translated
incorrectly in the Slavonic translation: “Let us consider the original Greek
text: the words ‘in that’ translate the Greek ‘ej’
w’, which means: ‘because’, ‘since’
(Latin tamen, quod)… Therefore, the correct translation of these words
of the Apostle Paul is: ‘and so death passed upon all men, because all have
sinned’ (and not just Adam alone)”.[134]
Now we may
agree with Metropolitan Anthony that the strictly correct translation of Romans 5.12 is: “death
passed upon all men, because all have sinned” rather than: “death passed
upon all men, for in him [i.e. in Adam] all have sinned”. Nevertheless,
the fact that not only all the Orthodox Latin translations and Latin fathers
read “in him”, but also the famous Greek translators of the Bible into
Slavonic, Saints Cyril and Methodius, should make us pause before accusing
these very distinguished Fathers of error. Indeed, Bishop Theophan the Recluse,
for reasons which will become clear later, considered that the translation “in
him”, though freer and less literally accurate, in fact conveyed the underlying
meaning more accurately.
If we follow the correct translation, according to Metropolitan Anthony, “Adam was not so much the cause of our sinfulness as he was the first to sin, and even if we were not his sons, we still would sin just the same. Thus one should think that that we are all sinners, even though our will be well directed, not because we are descendants of Adam, but because the All-knowing God gives us life in the human condition (and not as angels, for example), and He foresaw that the will of each of us would be like that of Adam and Eve. This will is not evil by nature, but disobedient and prideful, and consequently it needs a school to correct it, and this is what our earthly life in the body is, for it constantly humbles our stubbornness. In this matter this school attains success in almost all its pupils who are permitted to complete their whole course, that is, live a long life; but some of God’s chosen ones attain this wisdom at an early age, namely those whom Providence leads to the Heavenly Teacher or to His ‘co-workers’”.[135]
As he put it in another place: “God knew that each of us would sin in
the same way as Adam, and for that reason we are his descendants… Knowing
beforehand that every man would display Adam’s self-will, the Lord allows us to
inherit Adam’s weak, ill, mortal nature endowed with sinful tendencies, in the
struggle with which, and still more in submitting to which, we become conscious
of our nothingness and humble ourselves.”[136]
Metropolitan
Anthony objects to the Russian Church’s traditional teaching on original sin as
expounded in, for example, the Catechism of Metropolitan Philaret of
Moscow, which he regards as Latin and scholastic in origin: “‘As from a
polluted spring,’ we read in our textbook, ‘there flows corrupted water,’ etc.
But, if you will, a spring and water are one thing, whereas living, morally
responsible human beings are something else. It is not by our own will that we
are descendants of Adam, so why should we bear the guilt for his disobedience?
Indeed, we must struggle greatly in order to appropriate Christ’s redemption:
can it be that the condemnation of each man because of Adam befell men despite
each one’s own guilt? After all, the Apostle says here ‘that the gift was
poured out more richly than the condemnation’ (cf. Romans 5.15), but with the juridical
interpretation the result is rather the opposite”.[137]
Here again we may
agree with Metropolitan Anthony that Adam, and Adam alone, was personally
responsible for his transgression. Thus St. Basil the Great writes that what we
inherit from Adam “is not the personal sin of Adam, but the original human
being himself”, who “exists in us by necessity”.[138]
Again, St.
Cyril of Alexandria says: “What has Adam’s guilt to do with us? Why are we held
responsible for his sin when we were not even born when he committed it? Did
not God say: ‘The parents will not die for the children, nor the children for
the parents, but the soul which has sinned, it shall die’ (Deuteronomy
24.16). How then shall we defend this doctrine? The soul, I say, which has
sinned, it shall die. We have become sinners because of Adam’s disobedience in
the following manner… After he fell into sin and surrendered to corruption,
impure lusts invaded the nature of his flesh, and at the same time the evil law
of our members was born. For our nature contracted the disease of sin because
of the disobedience of one man, that is, Adam, and thus many became sinners.
This was not because they sinned along with Adam, because they did not then
exist, but because they had the same nature as Adam, which fell under the law
of sin. Thus, just as human nature acquired the weakness of corruption in Adam
because of disobedience, and evil desires invaded it, so the same nature was
later set free by Christ, Who was obedient to God the Father and did not commit
sin.”[139]
Again, St. John
Chrysostom writes: “’Through the wrong-doing of one man many became sinners’.
There is nothing improbable about the proposition that when Adam sinned and
became mortal, those who were descended from him should become mortal also. But
how should it follow that from his disobedience anyone else should become a
sinner? For unless a man becomes a sinner on his own responsibility, he will
not be found to merit punishment. Then what does ‘sinner’ mean here? I
think it means liable to punishment, that is, condemned to death”.[140]
However, while
this appears to dispel one paradox and apparent injustice – that we should be
guilty for a sin we did not commit – it by no means dispels other, no less
difficult ones. For is it not unjust that we should inherit a nature inclined
to sin and doomed to death before we have done anything worthy of death?
Metropolitan Anthony’s explanation is that God, foreseeing that we would sin
like Adam, gave us a corrupt and mortal nature in anticipation of that. But
this implies that whereas in the case of Adam death is clearly the wages of sin
and the just punishment for the crime he committed, in our case the punishment precedes
the crime, and therefore cannot be perceived as the wages of sin. Is this not
just as unjust? Nor is it convincing to argue, as does the metropolitan, that
we are encumbered with a sinful and mortal nature, not as a punishment for sin,
but in order to humble us, that is, in order to prevent worse sin in the
future. For first: if we needed to be humbled, we clearly were already in sin –
the sin of pride. And secondly: how can sin be reduced by endowing us with a
nature inclined to sin?! Why not provide us with a sinless nature to begin
with?
But God did
provide us with a sinless nature to begin with, and it is we, not God, who have
caused its corruption. Metropolitan Anthony, however, is forced by the logic of
his argument, which denies that our sinfulness was caused by Adam’s original
sin, to attribute to God Himself the corruption of our nature. As he writes:
“Let us now ask: Who was responsible for fashioning human nature so that a good
desire and repentance are, nevertheless, powerless to renew a man in actuality
and so that he falls helplessly under the burden of his passions if he does not
have grace assisting him? God the Creator, of course.”[141]
This is perilously close to the assertion that God is the author of evil – or,
at any rate, of the evil of human nature since Adam, which is clearly contrary
to the Orthodox teaching that God created everything good in the beginning, and
that there is nothing that He has created that is not good. Even those things,
such as the differentiation of the sexes, which, in the opinion of a small
minority of the Holy Fathers, were created in prevision of the fall, are
nevertheless good in themselves. God did not create death: death is the
consequence of the sin of man, which in turn is the consequence of the envy of
the devil. So the idea that God created sinful natures, natures subject to
death, is contrary to Orthodox teaching. The only possible reason why human
beings should come into the world already tainted by corruption is that their
corrupt nature is the product of sin. And if not of their own personal sin,
then the sin of an ancestor. That is, the forefather’s or the ancestral or the
original sin…
Thus St. Cyril
of Alexandria writes: “[All men] have been condemned to death by the
transgression of Adam. For the whole of human nature has suffered this in him,
who was the beginning of the human race.”[142]
Again, St. Symeon the Theologian writes: “When our Master descended from on
high He by His own death destroyed the death that awaited us. The
condemnation that was the consequence of our forefather’s transgression he
completely annihilated.”[143]
Again, St. Gregory Palamas confirms that the ancestral sin was Adam’s and
nobody else’s: “Before Christ we all shared the same ancestral curse and
condemnation poured out on all of us from our single Forefather, as if it had
sprung from the root of the human race and was the common lot of our nature.
Each person’s individual action attracted either reproof or praise from God,
but no one could do anything about the shared curse and condemnation, or the
evil inheritance that had been passed down to him and through him would pass to
his descendants.”[144]
Some clarification can be introduced here by distinguishing two senses of the English word “sin”: sin as the act of a human person, and sin as the state or condition or law of human nature. This distinction is in fact made by St. Paul in the passage in question, as Archbishop Theophan points out: “The holy apostle clearly distinguishes in his teaching on original sin between two points: parabasiV or transgression, and amartia or sin. By the first he understood the personal transgression by our forefathers of the will of God that they should not eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, by the second – the law of sinful disorder that entered human nature as the consequence of this transgression. [“I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at work with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members” (Romans 7.22-23).] When he is talking about the inheritance of the original sin, he has in mind not parabasiV or transgression, for which only they are responsible, but amartia, that is, the law of sinful disorder which afflicted human nature as a consequence of the fall into sin of our forefathers. And hmarton - sinned in 5.12 must therefore be understood not in the active voice, in the sense: they committed sin, but in the middle-passive voice, in the sense: amartwloi katastaqhsontai of 5.19, that is, became sinners or turned out to be sinners, since human nature fell in Adam.”[145]
Thus the original sin of Adam, in the sense of his personal
transgression, the original sin which no
other person shares, has engendered in consequence sinful, corrupt, diseased,
mortal human nature, the law of sin, which we all share because we have all
inherited it, but for which we cannot be held personally responsible. And if
this seems to introduce of two original sins, this is in fact not far from the
thinking of the Holy Fathers. Thus St. Maximus the Confessor: “There then arose
sin, the first and worthy of reproach, that is, the falling away of the will
from good to evil. Through the first there arose the second – the change in
nature from incorruption to corruption, which cannot elicit reproach. For two
sins arise in [our] forefather as a consequence of the transgression of the
Divine commandment: one worthy of reproach, and the second having as its cause
the first and unable to elicit reproach”.[146]
We have inherited the “second” original sin, the law of sin, in the most basic way: through the sexual propagation of the species. For “in sins,” says David, - that is, in a nature corrupted by original sin, - “did my mother conceive me” (Psalm 50.5).[147] It follows that even newborn babies, even unborn embryos, are sinners in this sense. For “even from the womb, sinners are estranged” (Psalm 57.3). And as Job says: “Who shall be pure from uncleanness? Not even one, even if his life should be but one day upon the earth” (Job 14.4). Again, St. Gregory of Nyssa writes: “Evil was mixed with our nature from the beginning… through those who by their disobedience introduced the disease. Just as in the natural propagation of the species each animal engenders its like, so man is born from man, a being subject to passions from a being subject to passions, a sinner from a sinner. Thus sin takes its rise in us as we are born; it grows with us and keep us company till life’s term”.[148] Again, St. Gennadius Scholarius, Patriarch of Constantinople, writes: “Everyone in the following of Adam has died, because they have all inherited their nature from him. But some have died because they themselves have sinned, while others have died only because of Adam’s condemnation – for example, children”.[149]
Christ was born from a virgin who had been cleansed beforehand from all sin by the Holy Spirit precisely in order to break the cycle of sin begetting sin. As St. Gregory Palamas writes: “If the conception of God had been from seed, He would not have been a new man, nor the Author of new life which will never grow old. If He were from the old stock and had inherited its sin, He would not have been able to bear within Himself the fullness of the incorruptible Godhead or to make His Flesh an inexhaustible Source of sanctification, able to wash away even the defilement of our First Parents by its abundant power, and sufficient to sanctify all who came after them.”[150]
The fact that original sin in this sense taints even children is the reason for the practice of infant baptism. And this practice in turn confirms the traditional doctrine of original sin. Thus the Council of Carthage in 252 under St. Cyprian decreed “not to forbid the baptism of an infant who, scarcely born, has sinned in nothing apart from that which proceeds from the flesh of Adam. He has received the contagion of the ancient death through his very birth, and he comes, therefore, the more easily to the reception of the remission of sins in that it is not his own but the sins of another that are remitted”.
Still more
relevant here is Canon 110 of the Council of Carthage in 419, which was
confirmed by the Sixth and Seventh Ecumenical Councils: “He who denies the need
for young children and those just born from their mother’s womb to be baptized,
or who says that although they are baptized for the remission of sins they
inherit nothing from the forefathers’ sin that would necessitate the bath of
regeneration [from which it would follow that the form of baptism for the
remission of sins would be used on them not in a true, but in a false sense],
let him be anathema. For the word of the apostle: ‘By one man sin came into the
world and death entered all men by sin, for in him all have sinned’ (Romans 5.12), must be
understood in no other way than it has always been understood by the Catholic
Church, which has been poured out and spread everywhere. For in accordance with
this rule of faith children, too, who are themselves not yet able to commit any
sin, are truly baptized for the remission of sins, that through regeneration
they may be cleansed of everything that they have acquired from the old birth’
(cf. Canons 114, 115 and 116).”
“It follows,”
writes Archbishop Theophan, “that it is Metropolitan Philaret who has correctly
expounded the teaching of the Orthodox Church on original sin, and not
Metropolitan Anthony. The attempt of the latter to give a new interpretation to
the text of Romans 5.12 violates the ban laid in its time by the Council of
Carthage, a ban on similar attempts with the laying of an anathema on the
violators of the ban. But since the canons of the Council of Carthage were
confirmed by the [Sixth] Ecumenical Council in Trullo, then for the violation
of the indicated decree Metropolitan Anthony’s Catechism falls under the
anathema not only of the local Council of Carthage, but also of the [Sixth]
Ecumenical Council in Trullo”.[151]
Thus
Metropolitan Anthony’s teaching on original sin, which links our sinful and
corrupt state, not with Adam’s past sin, but with our own future ones,
encounters several powerful objections. First, it is contrary both to natural
justice and to the doctrine of the goodness of the original creation that the
punishment should precede the crime and that we should receive corruption and
death before we have sinned. Secondly, although, in the case of children
who die young, the punishment precedes a non-existent crime in that they
have not sinned personally, Church tradition still commands the baptism
of children precisely “for the remission of sins”. But thirdly, and most
importantly, the Apostle Paul specifically excludes the idea that our death is
the wages of our personal sins, as opposed to the original sin of Adam.
Thus he writes: “Until the law sin was in the world, but sin is not reckoned where there is no law. But death reigned from Adam until Moses, even over those who did not sin in the likeness of Adam’s transgression… Apart from the law sin lies dead. I was once alive apart from the law, but when the commandment came, sin revived and I died” (Romans 5.13,14, 7.8-9). For “sin is lawlessness” (I John 3.4), transgression of the law, so there can be no sin where there is no law. In other words, death reigned from Adam to Moses in spite of the fact that the men of that time did not sin as Adam did, and that personal sin was not imputed to them.
Let us turn to
the Fathers for further understanding of this passage. St. Cyril of Jerusalem
writes: “Paul’s meaning is that, although Moses was a righteous and admirable
man, the death sentence promulgated upon Adam reached him as well, and also
those who came after, even though neither he nor they copied the sin of Adam in
disobediently eating of the tree”.[152]
Again, the unknown fourth-century Roman Father commonly referred to as
Ambrosiaster writes: “How is it then that sin was not imputed, when there was
no law? Was it all right to sin, if the law was absent? There had always been a
natural law, and it was not unknown, but at that time it was thought to be the
only law, and it did not make men guilty before God. For it was not then known
that God would judge the human race, and for that reason sin was not imputed,
almost as if it did not exist in God’s sight and that God did not care about
it. But when the law was given through Moses, it became clear that God did care
about human affairs and that in the future wrongdoers would not escape without
punishment, as they had done up to them.”[153]
Again, Blessed Augustine writes: “He says not that there was no sin but only
that it was not counted. Once the law was given, sin was not taken away, but it
began to be counted”.[154]
Thus before
Moses the personal sins of men were not imputed to them, and they were not
counted as having committed them. And yet they died. But death is “the
wages of sin” (Romans 6.23). So of what sin was their death the wages? There
can only be one answer: Adam’s.
St. Paul goes on to give a still more powerful reason for this interpretation: the exact correspondence between Adam and Christ, between Adam who made all his descendants by carnal birth sinners and Christ Who makes all His descendants by spiritual birth righteous: “As through one man’s transgression [judgement came] on all men to condemnation, so through one man’s act of righteousness [acquittal came] to all men for justification of life. For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man’s obedience many will be made righteous. Law came in to increase the transgression; but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 5.18-21).
St. John
Chrysostom writes: “Adam is a type of Christ in that just as those who
descended from him inherited death, even though they had not eaten of the fruit
of the tree. So also those who are descended from Christ inherit His
righteousness, even though they did not produce it themselves… What Paul is
saying here seems to be something like this. If sin, and the sin of a single
man moreover, had such a big effect, how it is that grace, and that the grace
of God – not of the Father only but also of the Son – would not have an even
greater effect? That one man should be punished on account of another does not
seem reasonable, but that one man should be saved on account of another is both
more suitable and more reasonable. So if it is true that the former happened,
much more should the latter have happened as well.”[155]
Again, St. Ephraim the Syrian writes: “Just as Adam sowed sinful impurity into
pure bodies and the yeast of evil was laid into the whole of our mass [nature],
so our Lord sowed righteousness into the body of sin and His yeast was mixed
into the whole of our mass [nature]”.[156]
Again, St. Ambrose of Milan writes: “In Adam I fell, in Adam I was cast out of
paradise, in Adam I died. How shall God call me back, except He find me in
Adam? For just as in Adam I am guilty of sin and owe a debt to death, so in
Christ I am justified.”[157]
Again, St. Gregory Palamas writes: “Just as through one man, Adam, liability to
death passed down by heredity to those born afterwards, so the grace of eternal
and heavenly life passed down from the one divine and human Word to all those
born again of Him”.[158]
Thus just as
Adam sinned, and so brought sin and death on all his descendants, even though
they had not committed the original sin, so Christ brought remission of
sins and eternal life to all His descendants (the children of the Church), even
though they have not rejected sin as He has. If the original curse and
punishment was “unjust”, the freedom from the curse and redemption is also “unjust”.
But the one “injustice” wipes out the other “injustice” and creates the
Righteousness of God. It is therefore vain to seek, as does Metropolitan
Anthony, a rational justification of our inheritance of original sin. It is unjust
– from a human point of view. And the fact that we later sin of our own free
will does not make the original inheritance just. However, this “injustice” is
wiped out by the equal injustice of Christ’s blotting out all our sins –
both original sin, and our personal sins – by his unjust death on the Cross. As
Archbishop Seraphim of Lubny writes: “If we bear in mind that by the sufferings
of One all are saved, we shall see no injustice in the fact that by the fault
of one others are punished.”[159]
It is not only
the parallel between the old Adam and the new Adam that serves to overthrow
Metropolitan Anthony’s concept of original sin: the parallel between the old
Eve and the new Eve, the Virgin Mary, does so no less effectively. Let us
consider the metropolitan’s words: “Knowing beforehand that every man would
display Adam’s self-will, the Lord allows us to inherit Adam’s weak, ill,
mortal nature endowed with sinful tendencies…” However, there is one human
being of whom we know that she would not have displayed Adam’s self
will, and who is glorified above all human beings precisely because she rejected
Eve’s temptation, putting right her sin: the Mother of God. And yet the
Mother of God was born in original sin. This is the teaching of the
Orthodox Church, which rejects the Catholic doctrine that the Virgin was
conceived immaculately in order to preserve her from original sin.
St. John
Maximovich writes: “The teaching that the Mother of God was preserved from
original sin, as likewise the teaching that She was preserved by God’s grace
from personal sins, makes God unmerciful and unjust; because if God
could preserve Mary from sin and purify Her before Her birth, then why does He
not purify other men before their birth, but rather leaves them in sin? It
follows likewise that God saves men apart from their will, predetermining
certain ones before their birth to salvation.
“This teaching,
which seemingly has the aim of exalting the Mother of God, in reality
completely denies all her virtues. After all, if Mary, even in the womb of
Her mother, when She could not even desire anything either good or evil, was
preserved by God’s grace from every impurity, and then by that grace was
preserved from sin even after Her birth, then in what does Her merit consist?
If She could have been placed in the state of being unable to sin, and did not
sin, then for what did God glorify Her? If She, without any effort, and without
having any kind of impulses to sin, remained pure, then why is She crowned more
than everyone else? There is no victory without an adversary…”[160]
Logically,
Metropolitan Anthony’s theory leads to the Catholic doctrine of the immaculate
conception of the Virgin. For since God knew that she would not sin as did Adam
or Eve, there was no reason to give her a sinful nature. The fact that she did
inherit a sinful nature shows that it was not her own sin which caused her
sinful nature (by anticipation, as it were), but the original sin of Adam…
Conclusion: Love
and Justice
In the midst of two thieves, Thy Cross was
found to be a balance of justice.
Triodion, Ninth Hour, Glory…, Troparion.
Metropolitan
Anthony’s ambitious claims to originality in his teaching on redemption put us
on our guard right from the beginning of his work. Thus he writes: “No one has
as yet given a direct and at least somewhat clear answer to the question, why
Christ’s incarnation, sufferings and resurrection are saving for us, unless we
take into consideration the small leading article published in the Ecclesiastical
Herald of 1890 and the little article in the Theological Herald of
1894 composed by the author of the present work. But let not the reader not
think that we force our solution to this inquiry upon him as something
irrefutable. Supposing it were entirely incorrect, we nevertheless maintain
that it is still the only direct and positive answer to the above-mentioned
dogmatic query yet formulated.”[161]
The question
arises: why should it be given to Metropolitan Anthony, nearly 1900 years after
the Death and Resurrection of Christ, to expound the positive meaning of
redemption for the first time? Why were the Holy Fathers silent (if they
were indeed silent)? Metropolitan Anthony’s answer to this is that “the
contemporaries of the Fathers so clearly understood the Saviour’s redeeming
grace that it was unnecessary to elucidate upon it. In the same way, in our
days there is no need to explain to rural Christians what humility,
compunction, and repentance are, yet the intellectual class is in great need of
an explanation of these virtues since they have alienated themselves from them.
Thus, educated Christians who from medieval times have been caught in the mire
of juridical religious concepts, have lost that direct consciousness or
spiritual awareness of their unity with Christ Who suffers with us in our
struggle for salvation, a unity which the early Christians kept so fervently in
their hearts that it never occurred to the interpreters of the sacred dogmas
and the commentators on the words of the New Testament to explain what everyone
perceived so clearly”.[162]
This is
unconvincing. The problem of semi-believing intellectuals did not appear for
the first time towards the end of the second millennium of Christian history.
Nor did the Holy Fathers fail to explain the significance of Christ’s death and
resurrection. Such explanations involved the development and exploration of
those images and metaphors to be found in the New Testament, of which the
juridical metaphor is undoubtedly the chief. This metaphor was evidently not to
Metropolitan Anthony’s liking; but there is no evidence that the Apostles had
some more “positive” explanation which they were hiding from the general
Christian public and which was revealed to the Church some 1900 years later.
After all, the Church has no esoteric teaching like that of the Gnostics. The
whole truth was revealed to, and handed down by, the Apostles, and the task of
subsequent generations is to explicate and explore that heritage, not speculate
about hidden teachings.
Evidently conscious of this objection to Metropolitan Anthony’s
language, the Bostonite bishops hasten to his rescue by quoting from another of
his essays. “As if anticipating [or perhaps answering?] his own critics,” they
write, “he wrote these prophetic words in his introduction to his essay, The
Moral Aspect of the Dogma of the Church: ‘When an author offers his readers
a (more or less) new explanation of Christian dogmas; then, if he believes in
an Orthodox manner, he reckons least of all to introduce any kind of new truth
into the consciousness of the Church. On the contrary, he is convinced that the
fullness of the truth is a permanent attribute of the Church’s own
consciousness; and if, for example, before the fourth century, the concepts of
nature and persons had not been elucidated, or if before the Seventh Ecumenical
Council no dogma of the honouring of icons was defined, this does not in any
way mean that the early Church did not know the correct teaching about the
Trinity or vacillated between the venerating of icons and iconoclasm. In these
cases it was not the content of the faith which received a supplement in
Christian consciousness, but rather the enrichment of human thought consisted
in that certain human concepts or everyday occurrences were explained from the
point of view of true Christianity. Even before the fourth century, the Church
knew from the Gospel and Tradition that the Father and the Son are one, that we
are saved by faith in the Holy Trinity. But how to relate these truths to the
human, philosophical concepts of person and nature, - in other words, what
place these concepts receive in God’s being – this was taught to people by the
Fathers of the First Council and those who followed them.
“’In exactly the same way, if any contemporary person… starts discussing
the truths of the faith (in new terminology), but without any contradiction of
Church Tradition, remaining in agreement with Orthodox theology, then he does
not reveal new mysteries of the faith. He only elucidates, from the point of
view of eternal truth, new questions of contemporary human thought.” (p. 97).
All this is true, and thankfully more modest than the metropolitan’s
claims in The Dogma of Redemption. Even here, however, he claims that
his work is a new elucidation of old truths on a par with the achievements of
the Fathers of the First or Seventh Ecumenical Councils. But what new
terminology or insights has he given us?
What is new in “moral monism” is its monism – that is, its reduction of
the whole work of redemption to one principle only, love, instead of two, love
and justice. But this novelty is false: the restoration of justice between God
and man, that is, the blotting out of sin, is not a “secondary”, “incidental”
aspect of redemption, but redemption itself – at least that part of it
which was accomplished by Christ on the Cross and which the Scriptures call
“justification”. For Christ shed His blood, as He said, precisely “for
the remission of sins”, that is, for the restoration of justice between God and
man, for the justification of mankind. Also new in the theory is its moralism –
that is, its reduction of the whole mystery of our redemption to what
Metropolitan Anthony calls “the law of psychological interaction”[163],
the submission of the will of the believer to Christ’s compassionate love as
“an active, revolutionary and often irresistible power”.[164]
But this novelty, too, is false: it confuses the work of redemption in itself
with the assimilation of redemption by the individual believer, with his
response to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. It confuses the justification
wrought by Christ on the Cross, which is an objective fact independent of
the believer’s response to it, with the holiness wrought by the Holy
Spirit in the soul of the believer who does in fact respond to it.
The concepts of holiness and justification, love and justice are
logically distinct, and to speak of the perfection of Christ’s love does not in
itself explain how justice is perfected. It is the so-called “juridical
theory”, rooted in the Holy Scriptures and developed by the Holy Fathers, but
denied by Metropolitan Anthony, that tells us how justice and
justification are achieved, and in what that justice consists – without
in any way diminishing the significance of the Divine love. Metropolitan Anthony,
however, seeks in every way to play down the significance of redemption viewed
as the restoration of justice between God and man. He writes: “The act
of redemption – the exploit of compassionate love which pours Christ’s holy
will into the souls of believers – could not, as an act of love, violate the
other laws of life, that is, justice. And yet it has not infrequently been
considered from this secondary, non-essential, and incidental viewpoint, a
viewpoint which the sons of Roman legal culture, as well as the Jews,
considered extremely important. Such a view of the secondary aspect of the
event in now way obscures its real meaning as an act of compassionate love”.[165]
It is this attitude towards Divine justice as “secondary, non-essential and
incidental” which constitutes, in our view, the fundamental error of
Metropolitan Anthony’s work and the root cause of all its other errors.
We can see how
fundamental an error it is when we compare it with the teaching of St. Gregory
Palamas, who saw the primary reason why Christ chose to save us through
His Incarnation and Death on the Cross, and not in any other way, as consisting
precisely in its justice: “The pre-eternal, uncircumscribed and almighty
Word and omnipotent Son of God could clearly have saved man from mortality and
servitude to the devil without Himself becoming man. He upholds all things by
the word of His power and everything is subject to His divine authority.
According to Job, He can do everything and nothing is impossible for Him. The
strength of a created being cannot withstand the power of the Creator, and
nothing is more powerful than the Almighty. But the incarnation of the Word of
God was the method of deliverance most in keeping with our nature and weakness,
and most appropriate for Him Who carried it out, for this method had justice
on its side, and God does not act without justice. As the Psalmist and
Prophet says, ‘God is righteous and loveth righteousness’ (Psalm 11.7), ‘and there
is no unrighteousness in Him’ (Psalm 92.15). Man was justly abandoned by
God in the beginning as he had first abandoned God. He had voluntarily
approached the originator of evil, obeyed him when he treacherously advised the
opposite of what God had commanded, and was justly given over to him. In this way,
through the evil one’s envy and the good Lord’s just consent, death came into
the world. Because of the devil’s overwhelming evil, death became twofold, for
he brought about not just physical but also eternal death.
“As we had been
justly handed over to the devil’s service and subjection to death, it was
clearly necessary that the human race’s return to freedom and life should be
accomplished by God in a just way. Not only had man been surrendered to
the envious devil by divine righteousness, but the devil had rejected
righteousness and become wrongly enamoured of authority, arbitrary power and,
above all, tyranny. He took up arms against justice and used his might against
mankind. It pleased God that the devil be overcome first by the justice against
which he continuously fought, then afterwards by power, through the
Resurrection and the future Judgement. Justice before power is the best
order of events, and that force should come after justice is the work of a
truly divine and good Lord, not of a tyrant….
“A sacrifice
was needed to reconcile the Father on High with us and to sanctify us, since we
had been soiled by fellowship with the evil one. There had to be a sacrifice
which both cleansed and was clean, and a purified, sinless priest… It was
clearly necessary for Christ to descend to Hades, but all these things were
done with justice, without which God does not act.”[166]
“Justice before
power”, the Cross before the Resurrection. And “all things done with justice,
without which God does not act.” Clearly, justice is no secondary aspect of the
Divine economy, but the very heart essence of our salvation.
So let us
attempt, in conclusion, to present the relationship between love and justice in
redemption in a more balanced manner.
Christ’s redemptive work can be described as
perfect love in pursuit of perfect justice. The beginning of all things
and of all God’s works is without a question love. As the Apostle of
love writes in his Gospel: “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son,
that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3.16). But with
the appearance of sin, which is injustice, God, Who is called justice as
well as love (St. John of the Ladder), directed all things to the abolition of
injustice and the justification of man.
That is why the
same apostle of love (who is at the same time the son of thunder) combines the
concepts of the love of God and the expiation of His justice in one sentence
with no sense of incongruity as follows: “In this is love, not that we loved
God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the expiation [or
propitiation or atonement] (ilasmon) of our sins” (I John 4.10).
The attitude of
the Divine love to sin and justice is called in the Holy Scriptures the
wrath of God. This term does not denote a sinful passion of anger (for God
is completely pure and passionless) but expresses the utterly inexorable
determination of God to destroy that which is evil and unjust, that is, which
is opposed to love. As Archbishop Theophan puts it: "The wrath of God is
one of the manifestations of the love of God, but of the love of God in its
relationship to the moral evil in the heart of rational creatures in general,
and of man in particular."
However, since
man was immired in sin, not only his personal sins but also “the law of sin”,
or original sin, that had penetrated his very nature, he was unable to justify
himself. That is why even the best men of the Old Testament were barred entry
into heaven and went to hades after their death (Genesis 37.35). For “[sinful] flesh
and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of heaven” (I
Corinthians 15.50).
So how was
justice to be restored and man justified? Through the perfect Sacrifice for sin
offered by Christ on the Cross. However, in order to understand what is meant
by this we need to look a little more closely at the nature of justice itself.
One of the earliest and clearest examples of moral justice is the lex talionis: "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth". Justice here consists in balance, equality, compensation - evil committed in one direction is compensated for by an equal evil committed in the other direction. But since the second evil is committed with the intention of restoring justice, it is no longer evil, but good.
Now it will be immediately pointed out that this law has been superseded in the New Testament by a new law forbidding us to seek compensation for wrong done to us: "Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil, but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain..." (Matthew 5.38-41).
However, whatever the old law may lack in comparison with the new, it cannot be called unjust: on the contrary, it is the very paradigm of justice. Moreover, it was promulgated by God Himself, and therefore was right for the people of God at that particular stage in their development as a nation. Nor has it proved possible to dispense with the old law in the conduct of government since Christ. Where would a government or society be if there were no laws of a compensatory character? Even if the saints managed to conduct their personal lives by at all time returning good for evil, they never advocated abandoning the principle of retributory punishment for crime in public life, although they did try to temper justice with other considerations, such as the rehabilitation of the offender.
An example of this is provided by the life
of one of the greatest of Christian hierarchs, St. Dunstan of Canterbury
(+988): "Once three false coiners were caught and sentenced to have their
hands cut off. On that day, which was the feast of Pentecost, the Saint was
going to celebrate the Divine Liturgy; but he waited, asking whether the
sentence had been carried out. The reply came that the sentence had been
deferred to another day out of respect for the feast. 'I shall on no account go
to the altar today,' he said, 'until they have suffered the appointed penalty;
for I am concerned in this matter.' For the criminals were in his power. As he
spoke, tears gushed down his cheeks, showing his love for the condemned men.
But when they had been punished he washed his face and went up to the altar,
saying: 'Now I am confident that the Almighty will accept the Sacrifice from my
hands.'"
Thus justice has an absolute value in and of itself; and if the New Testament has brought other values to the fore, these have in no way superseded justice. Moreover, if the new law is superior to the old, this is not because the old law is unjust, but because the new fuses justice with love and therefore increases the sum total of good. In any case, according to the new law, too, evil must be balanced by an equal and opposite good. The difference is that according to the new law the counter-balancing good need not be offered by the offender, but can be offered by his victim in his place. Thus if the victim suffers the offense but forgives the offender, the debt of justice is paid; the act of love, which is forgiveness, blots out the original sin – so long as the offender accepts the gift through repentance. Nor is this unjust, if the creditor agrees to pay the debt. For it is not important who pays the debt, so long as the debt is paid – and the debtor shows his gratitude through repentance.
We see, then, that when evil has been done there are two ways in which justice may be satisfied and evil blotted out: by the suffering of the offender, and by the suffering of the victim in the offender's place. Only in God's law, as opposed to the laws of human government, the suffering of the offender is ineffective if it is not mixed with the particular joy-bringing sorrow of compunction; while the suffering of the victim is ineffective if it is not mixed with the sorrowless joy of forgiveness. Indeed, according to God's law, a victim who does not forgive his offender is himself offending and adding to the total of injustice in the world. Why? First, because "we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God" (Romans 3.23), so that all the suffering we receive is, if we would only recognize it, the just repayment of our sins. And secondly, because all sin is, in the first place, sin against God, not man; for as David says: "Against Thee only have I sinned and done this evil before Thee, that Thou mightest be justified in Thy words and prevail when Thou art judged" (Psalm 50.4). Therefore if we are to be justified before the Just Judge, we must at all times recognize that we are offenders, not victims, remembering that "if we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged" (I Corinthians 11.31).
Returning now to Christ's redemptive suffering, we find the new law put into practice to a heightened and supremely paradoxical degree. For, on the one hand, since Christ alone of all men was without sin, He alone had no need to suffer, He alone suffered unjustly. But on the other hand, for the very same reason He alone could suffer for all men, He alone could be the perfect Victim, by Him alone could justice be perfectly satisfied. All sacrifices for sin that we could offer are tainted since they are offered from a sinful nature. Only a sinless human nature could offer a true sacrifice for sin. Moreover, Christ suffered all the reality of sin as far as His sinless nature would allow, even to the suffering of death, the tearing apart of His most beautiful creation. And this meant, as we have seen, that His suffering was immeasurably greater than ours in proportion as sin is immeasurably distant from the holiness of God. Thus did He accept to suffer the whole wrath of God against sin in place of sinful mankind, becoming “the Lamb of God Who taketh away the sins of the world” (John 1.29). For “surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that made us whole, and by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53.4-5).
So the Cross is
perfect justice, “the balance-beam of justice”, as the Church hymn says - but
justice of a supremely paradoxical kind. In St. Maximus’ words, it is “the
judgement of judgement”[167].
Sin, that is, injustice, is completely blotted out - but by the unjust death
and Sacrifice of the Only Sinless and Just One. Christ came "in the
likeness of sinful flesh" (Romans 8.3) and died the death of a
sinner, uttering the words expressive of sinners’ horror at their abandonment
by God. The innocent Head died that the guilty Body should live. He, the Just
One, Who committed no sin, took upon Himself the sins of the whole world. When
we could not pay the price, He paid it for us; when we were dead in sin, He
died to give us life. "For Christ hath once suffered for sins, the just
for the unjust" (I Peter 3.18). And the
self-sacrificial love of this sacrifice was so great in the eyes of Divine
justice that it blotted out the sins of the whole world - of all men, that is,
who respond to this free gift with gratitude and repentance.
.
The Church has expressed this paradox with great eloquence: "Come, all ye peoples, and let us venerate the blessed Wood, through which the eternal justice has been brought to pass. For he who by a tree deceived our forefather Adam, is by the Cross himself deceived; and he who by tyranny gained possession of the creature endowed by God with royal dignity, is overthrown in headlong fall. By the Blood of God the poison of the serpent is washed away; and the curse of a just condemnation is loosed by the unjust punishment inflicted on the Just. For it was fitting that wood should be healed by wood, and that through the Passion of One Who knew not passion should be remitted all the sufferings of him who was condemned because of wood. But glory to Thee, O Christ our King, for Thy dread dispensation towards us, whereby Thou hast saved us all, for Thou art good and lovest mankind."[168]
So there is no
conflict between justice and love. To say that God should be loving but not
just is like saying that the sun should give light but not heat: it is simply
not in His nature. It is not in His nature, and it is not in the nature of any
created being. For the simple reason that justice is the order of
created beings, it is the state of being as it was originally created. For, as
St. Dionysius the Areopagite writes, “Divine justice is really true justice
because it distributes to all the things proper to themselves, according to the
fitness of each existing thing, and preserves the nature of each in its own
order and fitness…, the nature of each in its own order and capacity”.[169]
When people say
that God is loving but not just, or, that His justice demonstrates a lack of
love, they do not know what they are saying. For His love is aimed precisely
towards the restoration of justice, the restoration of “the nature of each in
its own order and capacity”, in which alone lies its blessedness. And if the
restoration of justice involves suffering, this is not the fault of God, but of
His creatures who freely go against their nature as God created and thereby
create injustice.
God is
justified in His words and prevails when He is judged by those evil men who
accuse Him of injustice. As He says through the Prophet Ezekiel: “Yet saith the
house of Israel, The way of the Lord is not equal. O house of Israel, are not
My ways equal? Are not your ways unequal? Therefore I will judge you, O house
of Israel, every one according to his ways” (Ezekiel 18.29-30.). Again, the
Prophet Malachi says: “Ye have wearied the Lord with your words. Yet ye say,
Wherein have we wearied Him? When ye say, Every one that doeth evil is good in
the sight of the Lord, and He delighteth in them; or, Where is the God of
judgement?” (Malachi 2.17). But God is not unequal in His ways, and He is
always the God of judgement.
For, as St.
John of Damascus writes, “a judge justly punishes one who is guilty of
wrongdoing; and if he does not punish him he is himself a wrongdoer. In
punishing him the judge is not the cause either of the wrongdoing or of the
vengeance taken against the wrongdoer, the cause being the wrongdoer’s freely chosen
actions. Thus too God, Who saw what was going to happen as if it had already
happened, judged it as if it had taken place; and if it was evil, that was the
cause of its being punished. It was God Who created man, so of course He
created him in goodness; but man did evil of his own free choice, and is
himself the cause of the vengeance that overtakes him.”[170]
Nor is justice
a kind of cold, abstract principle imposed upon Him from without, as it were.
As Vladimir Lossky writes: “We should not depict God either as a constitutional
monarch subject to a justice that goes beyond Him, or as a tyrant whose whim
would create a law without order or objectivity. Justice is not an abstract
reality superior to God but an expression of His nature. Just as He freely
creates yet manifests Himself in the order and beauty of creation, so He
manifests Himself in His justice: Christ Who is Himself justice, affirms in His
fullness God’s justice… God’s justice is that man should no longer be
separated from God. It is the restoration of humanity in Christ, the true
Adam.”[171]
Love and
justice may be seen as the positive and negative poles respectively of God’s
Providence in relation to the created universe. Love is the natural, that is,
just relationship between God and man. Sin has destroyed love and created
injustice. Divine Providence therefore acts to destroy injustice and restore
love. We would not need to speak of justice if sin had not destroyed it. But
with the entrance of sin, justice is the first necessity – love demands it.
However, since
love never demands of others what it cannot give itself, the justice of God is
transmuted into mercy. Mercy is that form of justice in which the
punishment of sin is removed from the shoulders of the offender and placed on
the shoulders of another, who thereby becomes a propitiatory sacrifice.
Thus the Cross is both love and justice, both mercy and sacrifice. It is the
perfect manifestation of love, and the perfect satisfaction of justice. And
therefore it is at the same time the perfect sacrifice of mercy.
This intertwining of the themes of love and justice in the Cross of
Christ is developed with incomparable grace by Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow: “Draw closer and examine the threatening face
of God’s justice, and you will exactly discern in it the meek gaze of God’s
love. Man by his sin has fenced off from himself the everlasting source of
God’s love: and this love is armed with righteousness and judgement – for what?
– to destroy this stronghold of division. But since the insignificant essence
of the sinner would be irreparably crushed under the blows of purifying
Justice, the inaccessible Lover of souls sends His consubstantial Love, that
is, His Only-begotten Son, so that He Who ‘upholds all things by the word of
His power’ (Hebrews 1.3), might also bear the heaviness of our sins, and
the heaviness of the justice advancing towards us, in the flesh of ours that He
took upon Himself: and, having Alone extinguished the arrows of wrath,
sharpened against the whole of humanity, might reveal in his wounds on the
Cross the unblocked springs of mercy and love which was to the whole land that
had once been cursed - blessings, life and beatitude. Thus did God love the
world.
“But if the
Heavenly Father out of love for the world gives up His Only-begotten Son; then
equally the Son out of love for man gives Himself up; and as love crucifies, so
is love crucified.[172]
For although ‘the Son can do nothing of Himself’, neither can he do anything in
spite of Himself. He ‘does not seek His own will’ (John 5.19 and 31), but for that
reason is the eternal heir and possessor of the will of His Father. ‘He abides
in His love’, but in it He Himself receives into His love all that is loved by
the Father, as he says: ‘As the Father hath loved Me, so have I loved you’ (John 15.9). And in
this way the love of the Heavenly Father is extended to the world through the
Son: the love of the Only-begotten Son of God at the same time ascends to the
Heavenly Father and descends to the world. Here let him who has eyes see the
most profound foundation and primordial inner constitution of the Cross, out of
the love of the Son of God for His All-holy Father and love for sinful
humanity, the two loves intersecting with, and holding on to, each other,
apparently dividing up what was one, but in fact uniting the divided into one.
Love for God is zealous for God – love for man is merciful to man. Love for God
demands that the law of God’s righteousness should be observed – love for man
does not abandon the transgressor of the law to perish in his unrighteousness.
Love for God strives to strike the enemy of God – love for man makes the
Divinity man, so as by means of love for God mankind might be deified, and
while love for God ‘lifts the Son of man from the earth’ (John 12.32 and 34),
love for man opens the embraces of the Son of God for the earthborn, these
opposing strivings of love intersect, dissolve into each other, balance each
other and make of themselves that wonderful heart of the Cross, on which
forgiving ‘mercy’ and judging ‘truth meet together’, God’s ‘righteousness’ and
man’s ‘peace kiss each other’, through which heavenly ‘truth is sprung up out
of the earth, and righteousness’ no longer with a threatening eye ‘hath looked
down from heaven. Yea, for the Lord will give goodness, and our land shall
yield her fruit’ (Psalm 84.11-13).”[173]
Only at the
Last, Most Terrible Judgement will love and justice not be united in mercy for
all. And yet the Last Judgement is a mystery proclaimed by the Word of God and
grounded in the deepest reality of things. It both proceeds from the nature of
God Himself, from His love and His justice, and is an innate demand of our
human nature created in the image of God. It is the essential foundation for
the practice of virtue and the abhorrence of vice, and the ultimate goal to
which the whole of created nature strives, willingly or unwillingly, as to its
natural fulfillment. Without it all particular judgements would have a partial
and unsatisfactory character, and the reproaches of Job against God, and of all
unbelievers against faith, would be justified. And if the Last Judgement is
different from all preceding ones in that in it love seems to be separated from
justice, love being bestowed exclusively on the righteous and justice on the
sinners, this is because mankind will have divided itself into two, one part
having responded to love with love, to justice with justice, while the other,
having rejected both the love and the justice of God, will merit to experience
His justice alone…
Metropolitan Anthony’s error consisted in the fact that he balked at the justice of God, and sought, in a rationalist and pietistic manner, to disengage it, as it were, from His love, assigning to love the primary role in the work of redemption while dismissing justice as a “secondary, incidental aspect” of it.
First, he balked at the justice of original sin. He considered it unjust that mankind should suffer as a result of the sin of Adam. So he proposed a “rational” solution: that men suffer from their inherited sinful nature, not because of Adam’s sin, but because of their own sins – or, more precisely, because they would have sinned in the same way as Adam if put in the same situation. But this contradicts the clear witness of Holy Scripture and the Holy Fathers, the tradition of the Church in baptizing children “for the remission of sins”, the fact that all men before the law died although no sin was imputed to them, and the fact that the Mother of God, though she reversed the sin of Eve by successfully resisting personal sin in all its forms, was nevertheless born in original sin. Moreover, it destroys the perfect symmetry between the old Adam and the new Adam: if we do not inherit original sin from the old Adam through carnal birth, then neither do we acquire redemption from the new Adam through spiritual birth.
Secondly, he balked at the justice of the Cross. He considered it unjust that by the death of Christ on the Cross, as by a propitiatory sacrifice, the sins of all men should be blotted out. So he proposed a “rational” solution: that the sins of all men are blotted out, not by any propitiatory sacrifice, not by the death of Christ on Golgotha, but by the overflowing of the “revolutionary, almost irresistible” force of His co-suffering love in the Garden of Gethsemane into the hearts of believers. But this contradicts the clear witness of Holy Scripture and the Holy Fathers, the tradition of the Church in communicating believers in the Body and Blood of Christ as in a Sacrificial offering for sin which is “for the remission of sins”, and the fact that the sufferings of Christ alone, without His death, could not save us, in that death could be destroyed only by the Death of Christ and the New Testament could be signed only in the blood, presupposing the Death, of the Testator. Moreover, it confuses the work of Christ and the Holy Spirit in our redemption: the work of Christ in justifying us is logically and chronologically prior to the work of the Holy Spirit in sanctifying us.
In
many ways, Metropolitan Anthony’s error is a typically modern one. Modern man
is all in favour of love; but he wishes to disengage it from truth, on
the one hand, and justice, on the other. He misinterprets Blessed
Augustine’s saying: “Love and do what you will”; he thinks that “love covers a
multitude of sins”, that is, that it can co-exist with all manner of falsehood
(which is ecumenism) and all manner of sin (which is secularism, hedonism,
modernism of all kinds), and that in the last analysis falsehood and sin simply
do not matter: as the pop song puts it, all you need is love.
But
it is not true that all we need is love. We also need truth and justice. These
three principles are one in God, but at the same time they are three. God is
love, but He is also truth and justice, and His love is incompatible with all
untruth and injustice. Christ, Who is love incarnate, came into the world “to
witness to the truth” (John 18.37) and “to destroy the works of the
devil” (I John 3.8). He came into the world, therefore, to reestablish
truth and justice. He is perfect love in pursuit of perfect truth and
perfect justice.
And if His truth defies all
rationalist reason, and His justice all human standards of equity, this only
goes to show that His thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways not our ways,
and that we must work out our salvation in fear and trembling; “for our God is
a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12.29)…
Pascha, 2003.
[1] http://deltard.org/hocna/defense.htm
[2] Andrew Blane (ed.), Georges Florovsky, New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1993, p. 311.
[3] Protocols of the Hierarchical Synod of the
Russian Orthodox Church Abroad, 9/22 April, 1926 (in Russian).
[4] The Letters of His Beatitude Metropolitan
Anthony (Khrapovitsky), Jordanville, 1998 (in Russian), ¹ 83, p. 235.
[5] Letters, op. cit., ¹ 91, p. 244.
[6] Letters, op. cit., ¹ 31, p. 169.
[7] However, in a handwritten note dated February 16/29, 1932, Archbishop Theophan wrote that “under the influence of objections made [against it] Metropolitan Anthony was about to take back his Catechism, which had been introduced for school use instead of the Catechism of Metropolitan Philaret. But, as was soon revealed, he did this insincerely and with exceptional insistence continued to spread his incorrect teaching On the Redemption and many other incorrect teachings included in his Catechism.” (Archive of the present writer (in Russian)).
[8] Rose, in Fr.
Michael Pomazansky, Orthodox Dogmatic Theology, Platina: St. Herman of
Alaska Brotherhood, 1994, Appendix IV: On the New Interpretation of the Dogma
of Redemption, p. 403.
[9] Parenta, Herald
of the Serbian Orthodox Patriarchate, 1926, N II (1/14 June), pp. 168-174
(10-34).
[10] One of the earliest critics of
Metropolitan Anthony, New Hieromartyr Archbishop Victor of Vyatka, noted
already in 1911 that the “new theology” of Metropolitan Anthony and his pupil,
Metropolitan (and future “Patriarch”) Sergius (Stragorodsky) “would shake the
Church”. And he saw in Metropolitan Sergius’ disastrous “Declaration” of 1927 a
direct result of his teaching on salvation – which teaching was openly praised
by Metropolitan Anthony in The Dogma of Redemption (Hieromartyr Victor,
“The New Theologians”, The Church, 1912; Protopriest Michael Polsky, The
New Martyrs of Russia, 1949-57, Jordanville, vol. 1, p. 601(in Russian)).
[11] Thus he writes: “We must not quickly return to Peter Moghila, Philaret and Macarius: they will remain subjects for historians. It is quite another matter with his Grace Bishop Theophan of Vyshna: he pointed to the centre of Christian life and r(eligious) thought as being in the domain of morality, and he mainly worked out the concepts of repentance and the struggle with the passions. I venerate those” (Letters, op. cit., ¹ 91, p. 244.).
[12] The Dogma of Redemption, Montreal: Monastery Press, 1979, pp. 5-6.
[13] Metropolitan Philaret, Extended
Christian Catechism of the Orthodox Catholic Eastern Church, 1823.
[14] St. Gregory Palamas, Homily 16, 21, 24, 31; in Christopher Veniamin (ed.), The Homilies of Saint Gregory Palamas, South Canaan, PA: Saint Tikhon’s Seminary Press, 2002, pp. 193, 195, 201.
[15] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, A Sketch of the Christian Moral Teaching, Moscow, 1891, pp. 9-26; quoted in Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, pp. 24-25.
[16] Archbishop Basil (Krivoshein) of Brussels writes that the juridical metaphor is “one-sided” and “incomplete”, but nevertheless “expresses a doctrine contained in the Revelation” (“Christ’s Redemptive Work on the Cross and in the Resurrection”, Sobornost, summer, 1973, series 6, no. 7, pp. 447-448).
[17] Vladimir Lossky, “Christological Dogma”, in Orthodox Theology, Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1989, p. 111.
[18] St. John of Damascus, An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book I, chapter 1.
[19] St. Gregory the Theologian, Sermon 28.
[20] St. Gregory of Nyssa, Against Eunomius, book II.
[21] St. Gregory of Nyssa, Against Eunomius, book II.
[22] St. John Chrysostom, Homily 26 on the First Epistle to the Corinthians.
[23] St. John of Damascus, An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book I, chapter 2.
[24] St. John Chrysostom, Works, Russian edition, vol. V, p. 49. Cf. vol. V, pp. 80-81.
[25] St. John Chrysostom, Works, Russian edition, vol. V, p. 24. Cf. vol. V, p. 79.
[26] St. Gregory the Theologian, Word 31, Works, Russian edition,
vol. III, p. 100.
[27] St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book I, ch. 11.
[28] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, p. 48.
[29] St. John of the
Ladder, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, 24.23.
[30] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, p. 51.
[31] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 13.
[32] Kalomiros, “The River of Fire”.
[33] Archbishop Seraphim, The Holy Hierarch Seraphim Sobolev, Platina, Ca.: St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood Press, 1992, pp. 46-47 (in Russian).
[34] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 13.
[35] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of Chapters 1-8 of the Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Romans, pp. 231, 234.
[36] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of Chapters 9-16 of the Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Romans, p. 82.
[37] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of Chapters 9-16 of the Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Romans, p. 325.
[38] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of Chapters 1-8 of the Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Romans, p. 323.
[39] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of the First Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Corinthians, Moscow, 1893, p. 86.
[40] The Holy Hierarch Seraphim Sobolev, pp. 48-50.
[41] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of Chapters 1-8 of the Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Romans, pp. 226-228.
[42] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of the Second Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Corinthians, p. 106.
[43] Bishop Theophan the Recluse, Interpretation of the Epistle of the holy Apostle Paul to the Galatians, Moscow, 1893, pp. 204-205.
[44] The Holy Hierarch Seraphim Sobolev, pp. 51-53.
[45] St. John Chrysostom, P.G. 61:700, cols. 652, 653.
[46] Blessed Theophylact, Explanation of the Gospel of John, 14.16.
[47] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 52.
[48] Or, offering. The kinship of the Russian word for sacrifice (æåðòâà) and for contribution (ïîæåðòâîâàíiå) should be noted.
– note of the translators (HOCNA).
[49] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 42-43.
[50] St. Gregory, Homily 45 on Pascha, 22, quoted by Protopresbyter George Grabbe in his foreword to The Dogma of Redemption, pp. vi-vii.
[51] Archbishop Theophan, On the
Redemption, pp. 9-11.
[52] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, p. 11.
[53] Metropolitan Anthony wrote opposite this: “True, but this contradicts [Metropolitan] Philaret” (HOCNA bishops resolution, p. 13). But does it? No proof is offered that Metropolitan Philaret would have rejected Archbishop Theophan’s formulation.
[54] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption.
[55] St. Gregory the Theologian, Works,
Russian edition, vol. V, p. 42. Cf. Homily 20 (PG 35.1068d).
[56] St. Gregory the Theologian, Works, Russian edition, vol. I, pp. 179-180, Moscow, 1889 and vol. I, St. Petersburg edition, p. 669.
[57] St. Gregory the Theologian, Works, Russian edition, vol. IV, pp. 132-142, Moscow, 1889 and vol. I, St. Petersburg edition, p. 675-680.
[58] St. John Chrysostom, Works, Russian edition, vol. III, pp. 898-900.
[59] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, pp. 25-27.
[60] St. Gregory the Theologian, Word 30, Works, Russian edition, vol. III, p. 82 or vol. I (St. Petersburg), p. 442.
[61] St. Gregory the Theologian, Word 19, Works, Russian edition, vol. II, p. 129 or vol. I (St. Petersburg), p. 296.
[62] St. Gregory the Theologian, Word 3, Works, Russian edition, vol. I, pp. 58-59 or vol. I (St. Petersburg), p. 58; Word 20, vol. II, p. 235 or vol. I (St. Petersburg), p. 299; Verses on himself, vol. IV, p. 247 or vol. II (St. Petersburg), p. 66.
[63] St. Gregory the Theologian, Verses on himself, vol. IV, p. 245 or vol. II (St. Petersburg), p. 22.
[64] St. Gregory the Theologian, Word 29, Works, Russian edition, vol. III, p. 61 or vol. I (St. Petersburg), p. 427.
[65] St. Athanasius the Great, Tenth Paschal Epistle, 10; Works, Russian edition, vol. III, p. 464.
[66] St. Athanasius the Great, On the Incarnation of God the Word, 37; Works, Russian edition (St. Sergius Lavra, 1902), vol. I, p. 238.
[67] St. Gregory of Nyssa, Against Eunomius, book VI, 2; Works, Russian edition, vol. VI, pp. 43-44.
[68] St. Gregory of Nyssa, To Olympius the Monk on Perfection; Works, Russian edition, vol. VII, p. 237.
[69] St. Gregory of Nyssa, Word on Holy Pascha; Works, Russian edition, vol. VIII, p. 38.
[70] St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on John, 13, 3; Works, Russian edition, vol. VIII, p. 95.
[71] St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on John, 18, 2; Works, Russian edition, vol. VIII, p. 119-120.
[72] St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on John, 46, 4; Works, Russian edition, vol. VIII, p. 306.
[73] St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on John, 46, 3; Works, Russian edition, vol. VIII, p. 305.
[74] St. John Chrysostom, Against the Jews; Works, Russian edition, vol. I, p. 722.
[75] St. John Chrysostom, Works, Russian edition, vol. II, pp. 437-438. Cf. vol. II, pp. 446-449.
[76] St. Cyril of Alexandria, Interpretation of the Gospel of John; Works of the Holy Fathers, Sergiev Posad, 1901, vol. 64, pp. 175-176 (in Russian).
[77] St. Cyril of Alexandria, On worship and service in spirit and in truth, part I.
[78] St. Cyril of Alexandria, Interpretation of the Gospel of John; Works of the Holy Fathers, Sergiev Posad, 1901, vol. 66, pp. 175-176 (in Russian)..
[79] St. Cyril of Alexandria, On worship and service in spirit and in truth, part II.
[80] St. Cyril of Alexandria, On worship and service in spirit and in truth, part II.
[81] St. Basil the Great, Letter to Bishop Optimus; Works, Russian edition, Sergiev Posad, 1892, vol. VII, p. 224.
[82] St. Basil the Great, Homily 19 on Psalm 48, 3, 4; Works, Russian edition, Sergiev Posad, 1892, vol. I, pp. 194-195.
[83] St. Basil the Great, Works, Russian edition, Sergiev Posad, 1892, vol. I, pp. 241-242.
[84] St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book IV, ch. 11.
[85] St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book IV, ch. 11.
[86] Prayer recited secretly by the priest during the Cherubic hymn.
[87] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, pp. 29-32.
[88] In 1157 another
council was convened at Blachernae in Constantinople which condemned the
teachings of the Deacons Basilakes and Soterichus. The condemnation was
incorporated into the Synodikon of Orthodoxy as follows:
AGAINST THE ERRORS OF BASILAKES, SOTERICHUS AND OTHERS
To those who say that at the season of the
world-saving Passion of our Lord and God and Saviour Jesus Christ, when He
offered the sacrifice of His precious body and blood for our salvation and
fulfilled in His human nature the ministry of High Priest for us (since He is
at the same time God and Sacrificer and Victim, according to St. Gregory the
Theologian[88]), He
did offer the sacrifice to God the Father, yet He, the Only-begotten, in
company with the Holy Spirit, did not accept the sacrifice as God together with
the Father; to those who by such teachings estrange from the divine equality of
honour and dignity both God the Word and the Comforter Spirit, Who is of one
essence and of one glory with Him: Anathema (3)
To those who do not accept that the
sacrifice offered daily by those who have received from Christ the priestly
service of the divine Mysteries is in fact offered to the Holy Trinity, and who
thereby contradict the sacred and divine Fathers, Basil and Chrysostom, with
whom the other God-bearing Fathers also agree in both their words and their
writings: Anathema (3)
(The True Vine, issues 27 and 28, Spring, 2000, pp.
53-55)
[89] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption.
[90] St. Gregory of Nyssa, Sermon One on the Resurrection of Christ, Jaeger, vol. 9, p. 287. In William A. Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 1979, volume 2, p. 59.
[91] Triodion, Sunday of the Prodigal son, Vespers, “Lord, I have cried”, verse.
[92] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 18-19, 24, 27-29.
[93] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 30.
[94] Archbishop Theophan lists: St. Athanasius the Great (On the Incarnation of the Word and against the Arians, 21; Third Word against the Arians, 57), St. Gregory of Nyssa (Antirrheticus, or Refutation of the Opinions of Apollinarius, 32), St. John Chrysostom (Against the Anomeans, Word 7), St. Cyril of Alexandria (Interpretation of the Gospel according to John, 12.26-27; Interpretation of the Book of the Prophet Isaiah), St. Ephraim the Syrian (Interpretation of the Four Gospels) and St. John of Damascus (Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, III, 18). Fr. Seraphim Rose adds to this list St. Symeon the New Theologian (Homily 39, 5).
[95] St. Maximus the Confessor, PG 91:297B-300A. Translated in Joseph Farrell, Free Choice in St. Maximus the Confessor, South Canaan: St. Tikhon’s Seminary Press, 1989, pp. 167-168.
[96] St. Maximus the Confessor, PG 91:297CD; St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, III, 23.
[97] St. Maximus the Confessor, Theological and Polemical Works 6, PG:68C. In Farrell, op. cit., p. 172.
[98] St. John of Damascus, An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, III, 18.
[99] For, as the same author writes, commenting on the verse: “Are ye able to drink of the cup that I shall drink of?” (Matthew 20.22), “the cup means martyrdom and one’s own death” (Commentary on Matthew, House Springs, Mo.: Chrysostom Press, 1992, p. 171).
[100] Blessed Theophylact, Explanation of the Gospel according to Luke, House Springs, Mo.: Chrysostom Press, 1997, pp. 293-294.
[101] Archbishop Averky, Guide to the Study of the Holy Scriptures of the New Testament, Jordanville: Holy Trinity Monastery, volume 1, 1974, pp. 290-291 (in Russian)
[102] “What did Christ Pray about in the Garden of Gethsemane?”, Living Orthodoxy, N 87, vol. XV, no. 3, May-June, 1993, pp. 5, 6, 7, 8.
[103] Archbishop Theophan, On the Redemption, p. 23.
[104] Archbishop Nikon, Life and Works of Metropolitan Anthony, 1960, volume IV, p. 45 (in Russian).
[105] Grabbe, Introduction to The Dogma of Redemption, pp. ix, viii.
[106] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 6.
[107] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 51.
[108] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 52. And in his Catechism he writes that the purpose of Christ’s death consisted in “making death itself unfrightening” (p. 50). Fr. George Florovsky calls this explanation “rather naïve”.
[109] St. John of Damascus, On the Holy Sabbath, 2; P.G. 96:604A;
in Vassiliadis, op. cit., p. 143.
[110] St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, IV, 11; P.G. 94:1128-1129; in Vassiliadis, op. cit., p. 143.
[111] Bishop Theophan, Interpretation of the Epistles of the Holy Apostle Paul, St. Petersburg, 1912, Moscow, 2002, p. 588 (in Russian).
[112] St. Gregory the Theologian, Homily 45, on Holy Pascha, 28.
[113] Florovsky, “Redemption”, Creation and Redemption, Belmont,
Mass.: Nordland Publishing Company, 1976, pp. 99, 104. The last sentence here is not an accurate
translation of the Russian. It should rather read: “This was the destruction of
death. And one can understand this only from the meaning of death”.
[114] Florovsky, “On the death of the Cross”, Dogma and History, Moscow, 1998, p. 189, footnote (in Russian). This footnote is not in the English Nordland translation.
[115] Lim, Sermon, September 14/27, 2002.
[116] Lossky, The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church, London: James Clarke, 1957, p. 148.
[117] St. Philaret, Great Friday sermon, 1973; in The Dogma of Redemption, op. cit., pp. 57-58.
[118] One Soviet metropolitan is reported to have said that Christ on the Cross, in uttering the cry: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?”, actually became an atheist. This is, of course, nonsense. But it is not nonsense – rather, it is the precise truth – to say that on the Cross Christ took upon Himself the horror of the atheist’s condition, the accursedness of being without God (“a” – without, “theos” – God).
[119] St. Basil the Great, Long Rules, Question 2.4; P.G. 31:916A; in Vassiliadis, op. cit., p. 143.
[120] St. Augustine,Discourse on Psalm 37, 6, 7; New York: Newman Press, 1961.
[121] This doctrine was also confirmed at the Council of Blachernae in
1157 and included in the Synodicon of Orthodoxy as follows: “To those who hear
the Saviour when He said in regard to the priestly service of the divine
Mysteries delivered by Him, ‘This do in remembrance of Me’, but who do not
understand the word ‘remembrance’ correctly, and who dare to say that the daily
sacrifice offered by the sacred ministers of the divine Mysteries exactly as
our Saviour, the Master of all, delivered to us, re-enacts only symbolically
and figuratively the sacrifice of His own body and blood which our Saviour had
offered on the Cross for the ransom and redemption of our common human nature;
for this reason, since they introduce the doctrine that this sacrifice is
different from the one originally consummated by the Saviour and that it
recalls only symbolically and figuratively, they bring to naught the Mystery of
the awesome and divine priestly service whereby we receive the earnest of the
future life; therefore, to those who deny what is staunchly proclaimed by our
divine Father, John Chrysostom, who says in many commentaries on the sayings of
the great Paul that the sacrifice is identical, that both are one and the same:
Anathema (3)”
(The True Vine, issues 27 and 28, Spring, 2000, p. 55)
[122] St. Gregory of Nyssa, First Sermon on the Resurrection; quoted in Georges Florovsky, op. cit., p. 335.
[123] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 33-34.
[124] Archbishop Theophan, On the unity of nature, p. 11.
[125] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 34-35, 36.
[126] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 37-38.
[127] St. Maximus the Confessor, Fourth Century on Love, 14. As Fr. George Florovsky writes: “sin does not belong to human nature, but is a parasitic and abnormal growth. This was point was vigorously stressed by St. Gregory of Nyssa and particularly by St. Maximus the Confessor in connection with their teaching of the will as the seat of sin” (“Redemption”, Creation and Redemption, op. cit., p. 98).
[128] St. Maximus
the Confessor, Epistle on love, 6.
[129] St. Maximus the Confessor, PG 91:309B-312A, quoted in Farrell, op. cit., p. 159.
[130] Archbishop Theophan, On the Unity of Nature, pp. 16-18.
[131] Archbishop Theophan, On the Unity of Nature, p. 11. In what sense, it may then be asked, did Christ take on human nature? Did He take on human nature understood as an abstract unity, or as the human species comprising all individual human hypostases? Neither the one nor the other, according to St. John of Damascus. For, as Professor Georgios Mantzaridis explains the Holy Father’s thought: “’nature’ can be understood firstly to denote an abstraction, in which case it has no intrinsic reality; secondly, to denote a species, in which case it comprises all the individual hypostases of that species; and thirdly, it can be viewed as a particular, in which case it is linked with the nature of the species but does not comprise all its individual hypostases. The Logos of God made flesh did not take on human nature in the first two senses, because in the first case there would be no incarnation but only delusion, and in the second case there would be incarnation in all human individual hypostases. Therefore, what the Logos of God took on in His incarnation was the ‘first-fruits of our substance’, individual nature, which did not previously exist as individual in itself, but came into existence in His hypostasis” (The Deification of Man, Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1984, pp. 29-30).
[132] St. John of Damascus, Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith, book I, chapter 8.
[133] Archbishop Theophan, The
Patristic Teaching on Original Sin.
[134] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 47.
[135] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 47-48.
[136] Attempt at a Christian Catechism, Third Article, Victoria, Australia, 1990, p. 45.
[137] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 47.
[138] Quoted in Demetrios Tzami, I Protologia tou M. Vasileiou, Thessaloniki, 1970, p. 135 (in Greek).
[139] St. Cyril of Alexandria, On Romans, 5.18, P.G. 74: 788-789.
[140] St. John Chrysostom, Homily 10 on Romans.
[141] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 40. Cf. similar statements in his Catechism, p. 54, “On the Fourth Article”.
[142] St. Cyril of Alexandria, On Romans 5.15, P.G. 74:785C; quoted in Nikolaos Vassiliadis, The Mystery of Death, Athens: “Sotir”, 1993, p. 85.
[143] St. Symeon, The Discourses, V: On Penitence, 9.
[144] St. Gregory Palamas, Homily 5: On the Meeting of our Lord, God and Saviour Jesus Christ, in Christopher Veniamin, The Homilies of Saint Gregory Palamas, South Canaan, PA: St. Tikhon’s Seminary Press, 2002, vol. I, p. 52.
[145] Archbishop Theophan, The Patristic Teaching on Original Sin.
[146] St. Maximus the Confessor, Quaestiones ad Thalassium, 42.
[147] David here, as St. John Chrysostom points out, “does not condemn marriage, as some have thoughtlessly supposed” (On Psalm 50, M.P.G. 55:583).
[148] St. Gregory of Nyssa, On the Beatitudes, 6, PG. 44, 1273.
[149] St. Gennadius, in K. Staab (ed.) Pauline Commentary from the Greek Church: Collected and Edited Catena, Munster in Westfalen, 1933, 15:362.
[150] St. Gregory Palamas, Homily 14, 5; Veniamin, op. cit., p. 159.
[151] Archbishop Theophan, The Patristic Teaching on Original Sin.
[152] St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures 15.31.
[153] Ambrosiaster, Commentary
on Paul’s Epistles, CSEL 81:165, 167, 169.
[154] Blessed Augustine, On Romans, 27-28.
[155] St. John Chrysostom, Homily 10 on Romans.
[156] Quoted by Archbishop Theophan, op. cit.
[157] St. Ambrose of Milan, On the death of his brother Satyrus.
[158] St. Gregory Palamas, Homily 16, 17; Veniamin, op. cit., p. 190.
[159] Archbishop Seraphim (Sobolev), op. cit., p. 72.
[160] St. John Maximovich, The Orthodox Veneration of the Mary the Birthgiver of God, Platina: St. Herman of Alaska Brotherhood, 1996, p. 59.
[161] The Dogma of Redemption, pp. 1-2.
[162] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 10.
[163] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 20.
[164] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 19.
[165] The Dogma of Redemption, p. 41.
[166] St. Gregory Palamas, Homily 16, 1,2,21; Veniamin, op.
cit., pp. 179-180, 194.
[167] St. Maximus the Confessor, Quaestiones ad Thalassium, PG
90:408D.
[168] Menaion, September 14, Great Vespers of the Exaltation of the Cross, “Lord, I have cried”, “Glory… Both now…”
[169] St. Dionysius the Areopagite, cited in Orthodoxy Canada, 1980, vol. 7, p. 29.
[170] St. John of Damascus, Dialogue against the Manichaeans, 37.
[171] Lossky,
“Christological Dogma”, op. cit., pp. 114-115. My italics (V.M.).
[172] In the mystery of the Cross, says Metropolitan Philaret, is expressed “the crucifying love of the Father, the crucified love of the Son, the love of the Holy Spirit triumphant in the power of the Cross. For God so loved the world”. Metropolitan Anthony’s comment on these words is dismissive: “this is a most unpersuasive sophism, a mere juggling of words. What sort of love is it that crucifies? Who needs it?” (The Dogma of Redemption, p. 6).
[173] Metropolitan Philaret, “Sermon on Holy Friday (1816)”, in Philareta Mitropolita Moskovskogo i Kolomenskogo Tvorenia, Moscow, 1994, pp. 107-108 (in Russian).