Adolf Harnack · 14 of 21

Tradition

2. Tradition.

The authority of Holy Scripture frequently appears in the Fathers as something wholly abstract and despotic. It contained, in fact, a latent tendency to assert its independence of the conditions out of which it had arisen. But the revolution which was characterised by the isolation of the Bible, its deliverance from the authority of ecclesiastical tradition, and the annihilation of the latter, only took place in the sixteenth century, and even then it was, we know, not completely successful. In ecclesiastical antiquity, on the contrary, the bond was by no means severed which connected Scripture with the maternal organism of the Church. The Church, its doctrine, institutions, and constitution, were held, in and by themselves, to constitute the source of knowledge and the authoritative guarantee of truth. As the holy, Apostolic, and Catholic institution, it possessed nothing whatever untrue or capable of amendment either in its foundations or its development. Everything in it, rather, was apostolic, and the guidance of the Church by the had preserved this apostolic fabric from any change. This thought was necessarily emphasised more and more strongly in consequence of the development undergone by Church affairs in the fourth and following centuries. Since at the same time, however, the independent authority and the sufficiency of the Bible were also emphasised, there arose difficulties, in part even manifest inconsistencies, which were never removed. But they were not clearly felt, because men always possessed the power, when confronted by inconvenient monitors, to carry through ultimately, whether in the form of dogma, or in that of order, whatever was required. In face of traditions become obsolete an appeal was made to other traditions, or to the Bible; where written testimony was uncertain or awanting, recourse was had to tradition; i.e., that was declared to be tradition which was not to be under another title. Hence it is already clear that tradition never was and never could be systematised and catalogued, that an authentic declaration never was and never could be published as to its extent and scope. There was no single deliverance on the application of tradition, which would not, if consistently carried out, have thrown the Church into confusion. If Augustine therefore (De bapt. c. Donat. II.3, 4) declared—certainly against his better knowledge—that ‘canonical Scripture was contained within fixed limits of its own’ (scriptura canonica certis suis terminis continetur), yet it never occurred to him or any one else to maintain as much about tradition. The latter was in antiquity a wholly elastic category, as we see when we look at its use in individual cases; in summa it was, however, an extremely rigid and clear notion: meaning simply that the Church was determined, in spite of all changes, to regard itself as the unchangeable creation of the Apostles. It derived its claim to this view partly from the divine promises, partly from the organisation instituted for it, yet without alleging confidently any empirical factor within the Church which should be the bearer of its infallibility. The most important consequences of this view held by the Church regarding itself have been already stated in the second volume; but others came to be added in the post-Constantinian period.

A. The creed of the Church was always held to be the most important part of its tradition. The anti-gnostic formulas which the creed had preserved passed over in the East, along with theorems, half biblical half speculative, and here and there with purely philosophical or polemical discussions, into the Symbols. These Symbols, which had been adopted for use in the Church, were regarded as apostolic testimonies. Their phrasing was not considered in the East to be due to the Apostles, but the honour paid them was justified from the Apostles’ preaching. These Symbols of the provincial Churches were supplanted in the period between the first and third (fourth) Œcumenical Councils by the Nicene, or soon thereafter by the so-called Constantinopolitan Symbol. This confession had already been held at Chalcedon to be the creed pure and simple, and it never lost this place of honour. If it had already been constantly assumed that the doctrine of the Church was the theme, or the matter, constituting the real contents of Scripture, then this assumption was now definitely transferred to the Nicene or the Constantinopolitan Symbol. All subsequent dogmatic conclusions were accordingly regarded solely as explanations of this Symbol, which was not maintained, however, to be of Apostolic origin—in its language. Tradition, in the strictest sense of the term, consisted in the contents of the Symbol for the time being. Cyril says of this (Cat. V. 12): ‘In these few paragraphs the whole dogma of the faith (is) comprised’ (ἐν ὀλίγοις τοῖς στίχοις τὸ πᾶν δόγμα τῆς πίστεως περιλαμβανόμενον). As the Church had obtained in the Nicene Creed a complete and uniform Symbol, the view was transferred to it. There were two sides meanwhile to the relations of Scripture and Symbol. You might not believe the contents of the Symbol unless you could convince yourself of their truth from Scripture; but on the other hand, your interpretation of Scripture had to be regulated by the creed laid down in the Symbol. In the West a unique dignity was retained by the old Roman Symbol (or its parallel forms in the provincial Churches) which was regarded as being composed of twelve articles. From the fourth century at least it was held to be the Apostolic Creed in the strict sense of the term. Its brevity and simplicity long preserved the Roman Church from extravagant theological speculations, but they could not barricade it against the theological development of the East. An industrious attempt was made, or at least professed, to derive the decision of dogmatic questions, as they emerged, from this Apostolic Symbol, and to rest upon it the whole of the ever increasing material of dogmatics. It was only after the beginning of the fifth century that the Constantinopolitan Symbol supplanted the apostolic in Church use in Rome and the West, yet without the latter losing its prestige. This was of course transferred in part to the new Symbol, but the old remained, though latent, in force. The twelve articles the Apostolic Symbol, to be explained by the Constantinopolitan, constituted in the West the ecclesiastical tradition κατ᾽ ἐξοχήν. Justinian’s legislation confirmed this conception, though, indeed, that was not needed.

B. At the beginning of the fourth century there already entered into the composition of the Church, not only its creed, but a cultus fixed in its main features; there were further disciplinary and ceremonial provisions—still differing, indeed, in part in the various provincial Churches—and finally, a settled constitution. It was only in a very late period that the notion of apostolicity was applied, in the strict sense, to the whole of these elements; but not only did the foundations of these come to be characterised as apostolic, but as a rule, and to an increasing extent, everything which there was a desire to assure of permanence. Different methods were adopted, however, of establishing the apostolic character of these institutions. First, it was maintained that regulations observed by the whole Church required no proof that they were Apostolic. Secondly, advantage was taken in the East, of the numerous legends of the Apostles current in the Churches; they began to be used in connection with the government and cultus of the Churches in such a way that definite detailed regulations were attributed to the Apostles, individually or collectively, whenever they were required for the discipline or cultus of the time. Thirdly, men began in the fourth century—not uninfluenced by Clement and Origen—to introduce the notion of a παράδοσις ἄγαρφος (unwritten tradition), in whose wholly undefined contents were even included dogmatic theories which it was not everyone’s business to understand; yet it dealt extremely seldom with the trinitarian and Christological catchwords. This idea of an ‘unwritten tradition’ crept in in a very real sense; for it conflicted with more than one main point in the fundamental positions of the Church. But it attained high honour, and its existence absolutely became a dogma. But because it really made all else unnecessary and was a dangerous dras tic expediet, it was not defined, nor was its extent ever determined. And it did not banish Scriptural proof or the appeal to familiar and demonstrable tradition. The existence was maintained of a tradition which dispensed with all criteria—and that was what the παράδοσις ἄγραφος was; but a prudent use was made of it. Unwritten tradition was preferentially applied to the development of ritual and the performance of the mysteries, while the secret truths of the creed were based exclusively on Scripture and the Councils. But this distinction was not sufficient, nor was it firmly held to be unalterable.

C. All conceptions of the authority of tradition, of which many Fathers—e.g., Cyprian—described Scripture to be the main element, were based ultimately on the that the Church had been invested with authority through its connection with the Holy Spirit himself. At this point two problems arose, which, though hardly ever clearly formulated, were yet felt, and which attempts were made to solve. I.—By whom and when did the Church speak? II.—How were novelties to be explained in the Church, especially in the sphere of doctrine, if the authority of the Church had its root exclusively in its apostolic character, that is, its ability to preserve the legacy of the Apostles?

As to I. It was a settled doctrine from the third century, that the representation of the Church was vested in the Episcopate, though the strict conception of the latter, as first taught by Cyprian, that it was the main support of the Church, was for a long time not universally held. We find, meanwhile, even, e.g., from the plan of Eusebius’ Church History, that the Bishops, the successors of the Apostles, were regarded as guarantors of the legitimacy of the Church. The conception never emerged that the Bishop was infallible as an individual; but a certain inspiration was already—though not without differences of opinion—attributed to the provincial Synods. Constantine was the first to form the idea of a universal Synod, and he also supposed such a body to be under the special guidance of the Holy Spirit, and therefore incapable of error. In the course of the fourth century the idea that the Nicene Synod possessed an infallible authority became slowly established; it was transferred in the following centuries to the Œcumenical Synods generally, yet so that one—the second—was only subsequently stamped as Œcumenical. From the sixth century there gradually ceased to be any doubt that the resolutions of Œcumenical Synods possessed an absolute authority. Whoever rebelled against them refused to admit that the Synods in question were regular, but did not dispute the authority of regular Synods in general. After the seventh Synod it was a settled principle in the orthodox Church of the East that Scripture and the decisions of the seven Œcumenical Councils formed the sources of the knowledge of Christian truth. They were characterised simply as the tradition, nay, men spoke, and not infrequently speak and act up to the present day, as if the Church possessed and required no other sources of knowledge or authorities. As a rule, the παράδοσις ἄγραφος is not included when Holy Scripture and the seven Councils are spoken of.

This apparently simple, consistent development, seemingly corresponding to all requirements, did not, however, solve all difficulties, either after it had come to an end, or still less during its course. But it had further to reckon with authorities, some of which were of long standing, while others emerged in the contemporary organisation of the Church. What position was to be taken up in doctrinal controversies in which an Œcumenical Synod had not pronounced its decision? Must there not be forthcoming in the Church at any moment a clear testimony to the truth, solving all doubtful questions, and giving forth no uncertain sound? What importance was due to the occupants of the great episcopal chairs, the Bishops of the apostolic communities, and especially of Rome? Decisions were not reached in all these questions, but a certain common sense arose. First, the Church speaks also by a unanimous testimony, audible from the earliest days, and this testimony never has been and never for a moment is, lacking. What has been always, everywhere, and by all, believed is inerrant tradition, even if it has not been solemnly and formally attested, or laid down in primitive authorities. This leads to a procedure similar to that followed by Eusebius in settling the N. T., viz., that the antiquity, unanimous attestation, and catholicity of a doctrine are to be expiscated in order that it may be certified a doctrine of the Church. The notion of ‘antiquity’ had now been extended and shifted with the advance of the Church. In the fourth century all the teachers held orthodox before Origen had been regarded as ancient, or vicini apostolorum (neighbours of the Apostles); the latter predicate especially had gradually been extended to the beginning of the third century: men like Irenæus, Apollinaris of Hierapolis and Hippolytus even were called γνώριμοι τῶν ἀποστόλων (friends of the Apostles). Then the whole period of the martyrs came to be considered sacred as the ancient time. But the Church was compelled to recognise to an increasing extent, that not much was to be gained for its purposes from its theological ‘witnesses’ before Athanasius, from those before as well as after Origen. Their names were still held in sacred memory—with the exception of those who seemed too greatly compromised, or had even fallen into bad odour with their own contemporaries; but their works disappeared more and more, or gave place to forgeries. Accordingly, from the fifth century, Athanasius and orthodox teachers of similar views of the fourth century, appeared as the “Fathers” proper. When controversies arose, and soon even at Synods, the votes of these men were counted. Doctrines were looked on as armed with the testimony of antiquity, when they could be supported from the Fathers from Athanasius to Cyril. Nor were forgeries wanting here. The disciples of Apollinaris of Laodicea practised these frauds to a vast extent, in order to rediscover their master’s teaching in antiquity; they were afterwards imitated by others. In any case, the tribunal of the ‘Fathers’ remained an uncertain one; great as was the scope assigned to it, its place and value were not dogmatically detailed. It was not even really decided what relation the inspiration of the Councils held to the consensus patrum, (see under). Such a consensus had often enough to be first restored; this was done by exegesis, or even by fabrications, because it was necessary to presuppose it. References of an opposite character remained of no effect; but when needs must a want of accuracy (akribeia) and detached errors were admitted in the case of individual Fathers, without the general conception being modified by these concessions. The Fathers were just read backwards—so to speak—i.e., from the standpoint of the dogma of the time being, and their undeveloped or divergent doctrines were interpreted in accordance with the principle of making the best of everything.

Secondly, a peculiar reverence was inherited from the past for Apostolic Churches or their bishops, entwined with the evidence based on history and dogmatics. Although the theory of Cyprian, which allowed no special importance to the Bishops of Apostolic communities within the general authority of the Episcopate, had weakened this prestige, it still held its ground. Augustine still recalled it in the question of the extent of the Holy Scriptures. But there now grew up, in consequence of the Metropolitan and Patriarchate form of government, a new aristocracy among the Bishops, which received its importance from the size and influence of the episcopal cities. Rome, Alexandria—the founding of whose Church by Mark was undisputed about A.D. 300—and Antioch were not affected by the rivalry involved in this new principle; for in these cases the special connection with the Apostles coincided with the greatness of the city. But the political factor prevailed so strongly that the Chairs of Corinth, Thessalonica, etc., and finally, even that of Ephesus, lost all peculiar prestige—only that of Jerusalem, in spite of the political insignificance of the city, was ranked with those more distinguished—but Constantinople was added to the list of the outstanding episcopates. In the East this was frankly justified by the political position of the city; but this justification was so far insufficient as the chair, by its co-ordination with the Apostolic sees, participated in the attributes which the latter possessed in virtue of their apostolic character. Such attributes continued to be ascribed to those chairs without it being stated, however, in what they really consisted. They were nothing tangible, and yet they were held to exist. But even in the view of Orientals they belonged in a preëminent degree to Rome. The works of the only western author before Jerome who was also read in the East—i.e., Cyprian—could not fail to heighten the prestige of Rome. But that was already great enough in itself. As the ancient capital of the Empire, as the city of the two chief Apostles, of the Cathedra Petri, as the only apostolic community of the West, that which had done more for the whole Church than any other, Rome even in the East enjoyed a unique prestige. But as early as the fourth century, and certainly from the fifth onwards, Rome. meant the Roman Bishop, with whose spiritual dignity were fused the memories of the ancient city that had ruled the world. These memories overhung the place, after the Emperor had left, and the most of them clung to the Bishop. In the momentous Arian conflict the great Eastern sees, except Alexandria, became compromised or dishonoured; the orthodox Orientals sought and found their support in Rome. The Emperor in Constantinople who brought the great controversy to an end was a Western, full of veneration for Rome. The promotion which he afterwards assigned to Constantinople was no equivalent—at first, at least,—for the advance in political power secured to Rome by the Arian controversy. The role of observer and arbiter, which the Roman Bishop was able to play in the Christological controversies, made it possible for him to maintain for a time the lofty position he had won. (On the aspirations of the Alexandrian Bishops, Athanasius, Peter, etc., and the successful opposition to them by Leo, see chap. IX.) There can be no doubt that even in the eyes of the Orientals there attached to the Roman Bishop a special something, which was wanting to all the rest, a nimbus which conferred upon him a peculiar authority. Yet this nimbus was not sufficiently bright and luminous to bestow upon its possessor an unimpeachable authority; it was rather so nebulous that it was possible to disregard it without running counter to the spirit of the universal Church. And it gradually became fainter. The more completely, after the middle of the fifth century, the internal relations of West and East ceased, and the more strongly the distinctively Byzantine spirit could assert itself in the diminished Church of the East, so the more rapidly declined the prestige of the Roman Bishop. Constantinople put an end to it in its own midst, when the Roman Bishop set up claims which in the fourth and fifth centuries had been palliated by actual circumstances and the necessities of the time, but which 500 years afterwards could not fail to be felt as the intrusion of an alien spirit. Yet, in spite of this, the idea of the unity of the Church still held its ground for a long time. After Synods ceased to be held, the influence of the great Patriarchates throughout the whole Church in the East increased—though, indeed, the orthodox Patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem, had lost their real importance; and theoretically the dignity of the Roman Bishop as primus inter pares, though not unassailed, was embraced in that of the great Eastern sees. But it was never made clear how far the Patriarchs in their collective capacity really constituted an authority in dogma: there is not even an explicit statement that they did form such an authority. There was an uncertainty of opinion as to their position alongside of and in the Œcumenical Synods. Here also there was an absence of fixed definitions. The Church as it is, with its graduated orders, crowned by the Patriarchs, constituted the tradition and the authority. But the authority of no factor in this system possessed, when isolated, any significance whatever. It might not assert itself at the expense of the rest. Its dignity was founded on its being a part of antiquity.

As to II. This at once involves the answer to the second question (see p. 214). The assumption that the Councils were inspired did not imply any power on their part to deliver new revelations to the Church. On the contrary, they proved their peculiar possession of the Holy Spirit by their unfailing testimony to the ancient doctrinal tradition. But in that case the new formulas created by the Councils could not but cause offence. How far they did is shown by the history of the dogmatic controversies. Above all, the unbiblical catch-word ‘consubstantial’ (Ὁμοούσιος), for a time directly rejected by the Church, only won acceptance under great difficulties, even among those who had little or no objection to the cause it represented. These formulas had to be proved in some way or other to have been anciently held. For Ὁμοούσιος it was of the highest importance that a Council had made it an accomplished fact. As the word gradually made good its ground, the Council lay far enough in the past to be itself regarded as belonging to antiquity. The evidence was got by reasoning in a circle; the authority of the Council supported the word which was anything but old, but the authority of any Council was dependent on its rejection of all innovations. Numerous passages in the Fathers furnished material in confirmation of the later formulas—which were never, so far as I know, bluntly deduced from unwritten tradition (παράδοσις ἄγραφος); but a strong preference was shown for understanding them as a repetition of the Nicene Symbol, the explication being disregarded, just as Irenæus in his time had passed off the Symbol unfolded in an antignostic sense, the regula fidei, for the Symbol itself, i.e., for the ancient repository of the truth. In spite of all novelties, it was thus contended that novelties were not forthcoming in the Church. Nay, even the power of the Councils to unfold doctrines authoritatively was not plainly asserted in the East; on the other hand, a Western, Vincentius of Lerinum, did maintain it, and essayed to furnish a theory on the subject. After the uncertainties of the Greeks over the conception of tradition, we really breathe freely when we study the attempt of this man to introduce light and certainty into the question. However, even in the East, the younger generation now and then gave the older Fathers the benefit of looking at their words as having been uttered at a time when dogma was not yet explained, or sharply formulated. Strictly speaking, this expedient was not tenable on Greek ground. Only a very sparing use therefore was made of it there, while the Catholic West employs it to a great extent up to the present day.

The conception of tradition is accordingly quite obscure. The hierarchical element does not in theory play the leading part in it. The apostolical succession has in theory had no such thorough-going importance even in the West for the proof of tradition as one would expect. After the time of the Councils the authority of the Bishops as bearers of tradition was wholly spent on that proof. Yet even that is perhaps saying too much. Everything was really obscure. So far, however, as the Greek Church has not changed since John of Damascus, the Greek has at present a perfectly definite sense of the foundation of religion. Besides Holy Scripture, tradition is the source of knowledge of, the authority for, the truth; and tradition is the Church itself, not, as in the West, governed by Rome, as a , living power, but in its immovable, thousand-year-old doctrines and orders. Even Scripture is to be explained by the tradition which transmits it, although Scripture is itself to some extent the caput et origo traditionis. But tradition still really presents itself in two forms as it did among the earliest Alexandrians: there is a perfectly official form—now that of the Councils, and one more profound and indefinite—corresponding to the ‘scientific tradition’ (παράδοσις γνωστική) of the ancient Alexandrians.