Catholicity and Heresy in the Early Church.
Hauck, Robert J.
Catholicity and Heresy in the Early Church. By Mark Edwards.
Farnham, U.K.: Ashgate, 2009.201 pp. $114.95 cloth; $29.95 paper.
The subtitle of this book might well be "some of my best
friends are heretics." Reviewing the theological debates from
Irenaeus to Chalcedon, Edwards argues for a position that current
scholarship would largely endorse: that tenets of the established
orthodoxy of the early church had their origins among groups originally
attacked as heretics. As a corollary, he asserts a thesis somewhat more
problematic: that there was, if not an "orthodoxy," at least a
"catholicity" that provided a foundation for the assimilation
of such tenets and tendencies into a post-Nicene orthodoxy.
He commences his argument with "The Beginnings of
Orthodoxy" (chapter 1). He finds the foundations for central
elements of subsequent orthodoxy in the speculative theology of the
second century--apophatic theology in the Apocryphon of John; humanity
as the divine image in the teachings of Valentinus; the eternal sonship
of the savior in Basilides; and beginnings of theological anthropology
in Marcion, raising the question of which of the "creeds" of
Irenaeus or Valentinus and the Gnostics would most approximate the later
"catholic" norm. Focusing next on Christology, and noting the
intersections of the thought of Clement, Origen, and Tertullian in the
third century with that of Valentinus, Basilides, and Theodotus, he
finds a "tincture" of Valentinian thought (67) in the
Alexandrians, and concludes that in the third century, as in the second,
theological ideas flowed both ways between the "catholics" and
the Gnostics. However, "[Valentinianism] was a stream to be panned,
though only a fool or a heretic would bathe there" (77).
Edwards continues his argument with Origen and Origenism, Nicaea
and the homoousious debates, and the Christological debates culminating
in the symbol of Chalcedon. In each case, he finds views that are
attacked as heresy in their own day appearing as pillars of orthodoxy in
subsequent debates. For the Origenist controversy, he focuses on
Pamphilus' Apology for Origen. Pamphilus records that Origen is
accused for using homoousios to refer to Christ's relationship with
the Father (rightly so, according to Edwards), an accusation which
implies Valentinianism in the third century, but becomes the litmus test of orthodoxy in the fourth. Indeed, he shows that many of Origen's
erstwhile heretical positions serve as the source for the formulations
that subsequently become orthodox. With regard to the debates after the
Council of Nicaea in the fourth century, Edwards argues that Eusebius of
Caesarea, rather than being a conservative who attempted compromise with
the homoiousios language, was one of the first proponents of
metaphysical parity between the Father and Son, and became a
"harbinger of the homoousian doctrine" (120). Further,
according to Edwards, the sources for the defense of the homoousios
doctrine by someone like Marius Victorinus lie in Gnostic apophatic language like that of Zostrianus.
Edwards concludes his argument for the shifting playing fields of
orthodoxy and heresy with an analysis of the debates leading up to
Chalcedon. While he rejects the overly simplified view provided by
history of doctrine surveys (this is somewhat of a straw man few in
Edwards's audience would hold this view of Chalcedon as a
compromise between the Christological schools of Alexandria and
Antioch), he also rejects its more widely-held corollary, that the
orthodoxy of the Chalcedonian definition is largely Antiochene. If
double consubstantiality of Christ with the Father in divinity and with
us in humanity is the hallmark of the definition, Edwards argues that
this was first expressed by Apollinarius, the heretic of the fourth
century. According to Edwards, Apollinarius affirmed the subjective
unity of Christ and the Father, the Virgin Mary as theotokos, and the
determinative doctrine of double consubstantiality. Although this
doctrine was attacked as heresy in the fourth century, it was recovered
in the fifth, especially by Cyril of Alexandria, who uses it in his
victory over Nestorius. It then plays a key role in the Formula of
Reunion in 433, and thus finds its way into the symbol of 451. Rather
than being Antiochene, Edwards argues that every doctrine that was
peculiar to Antiochene theologians such as Theodore of Mopsuestius and
Nestorius was rejected at Chalcedon, while the Alexandrian (and formerly
heretical) propositions of Apollinarius were affirmed (171).
Edwards has built a convincing case in this revisionist history of
theology. In each period, the spectrum of theological ideas was broad,
and the lines on the playing field shifted from generation to
generation. However, from this he infers not that early Christianity was
a fractionated or disparate movement. On the contrary, from this
evidence for diversity Edwards argues for an underlying unity, or
"catholicity. This argument is less compelling. He never fully
defines this catholicity--it apparently is the consensus of the
"catholic." Each theologian, he argues, assumed that he was
not speaking merely for his own "conventicle," but for the
whole church. If modem historiography thinks otherwise it is because it
is "Protestant by culture if not conviction" (174). What
defines this unity is ecclesiastical--it is the consensus of the bishops
in any particular age. Given his jab at Protestantism, one is tempted to
think the model here is Anglicanism (especially since often in the text
"episcopal" is capitalized as "Episcopal"). Unless
there is a doctrinal component to this, similar to H. E. W.
Turner's "penumbra" of orthodoxy, or due consideration of
rhetorical or social analysis, this merely begs the question--which
bishops and who defines the consensus is precisely what is at issue.
This is an erudite and stimulating work that provides many fresh
insights and innovative arguments. It convincingly proves its central
thesis about heresy, while remaining relatively mute and unsatisfying
about catholicity. Unfortunately, its overly turgid prose (including
occasional triple negatives) combined with egregiously poor copy-editing
(this often obscures the argument, as in the capitalization example
above, and there are often two or three such errors per page) will
prevent all but the most dedicated of readers from benefitting from it.
doi: 10.1017/S0009640710001666
Robert J. Hauck
Gonzaga University
