The Patristic Period
The Patristic Period
The early church found itself puzzled by the Spirit and struggled to make theological sense of this aspect of the Christian understanding of God. Was the Spirit itself divine? Or was it some kind of divine agent or surrogate? Or an abstract force emanating from God? Early Christian writers speak of the Holy Spirit – for example, in Justin Martyr (c.100–c.165)'s statement “we bless the Maker of all things through His Son Jesus Christ and through the Holy Spirit.” Yet, while it is clear that Justin recognizes the active presence of a Holy Spirit distinct from the Father who creates the world, and the Son who appeared on earth as savior, he does not assign a distinctive function or role to the Spirit in the economy of salvation. This almost certainly reflects Justin's primary concern to develop the idea of Jesus Christ as the logos of God, which meant his focus was on the person and work of Christ, rather than of the Spirit.
Some scholars have suggested that early Christianity was binitarian (rather than Trinitarian), in that its focus of discussion appears to have been on God and Jesus Christ, rather than the Holy Spirit. There is some truth in this observation, in that early debates and discussions focused on the relationship between Father and Son. We have already noted the importance of patristic Christological debates, especially in the fourth century, in helping to clarify some core themes of the Christian faith. Yet even the earliest Christian writers use a threefold creedal formula to refer to God, specifically identifying the basics of Christian faith as involving Father, Son, and Spirit. It was not until the fourth century that the Spirit came to be the center of theological discussion.
The second-century writer Montanus, who is known to have been active during the period 135–75, is a relatively rare example of a theologian operating in the early period of the church who focused on the activity of the Spirit. The leading ideas of Montanus are known chiefly through the writings of his critics, with the result that our understanding of Montanism may be somewhat distorted. However, it is clear that Montanus placed considerable emphasis on the activity of the Holy Spirit in the present, and particularly on the role of the Spirit in relation to dreams, visions, and prophetic revelations. It is even possible that Montanus may have identified himself with the Holy Spirit, seeing himself as the source of a divine revelation which was not otherwise available. However, the evidence for this assertion is ambiguous, and recent scholarship has tended to emphasize the orthodoxy of the early Montanism movement, especially in Phrygia.
In this section, we shall look at how the patristic age explored this area of theology, often somewhat tentatively.
Early Patristic Reflections: Irenaeus of Lyons (c.130–c.202)
The most important pressure which emerged in early Christian thinking about the Holy Spirit was to find a distinct theological place for the Spirit, rather than to think of the Spirit simply as another (or different kind of) Son. Irenaeus of Lyons, writing in the second century, was a witness to an important process of clarification which took place during the early church concerning the person and work of the Holy Spirit. The development of the distinctive vocabulary of Trinitarian theology dated from a century later; Irenaeus does not use these technical terms, which were simply not available to him. Irenaeus's theology is best seen as an elaboration of the basic “rule of faith” which was being widely adopted around this time. In his Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching, Irenaeus insisted upon the distinct yet related roles of Father, Son, and Spirit within the economy of salvation. He affirmed his faith in “God the Father, uncreated,” in “the Word of God, the Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ,” and the “Holy Spirit.” In commenting on each of these three persons, Irenaeus offers a succinct account of the role of the Spirit: “in the fullness of time, [the Holy Spirit] was poured out in a new way on our human nature in order to renew humanity throughout the entire world in the sight of God.”
This brief statement echoes a widespread consensus within the second-century church, which saw the Spirit primarily as God's means of renewing and restoring human nature, and as the inspiration of prophecy – an important role within the early church. Irenaeus clearly believed that the idea of a personal entity called “the Spirit” alongside God the Father and Jesus Christ as the Son and Word of God was an integral aspect of the faith handed down to the church from the apostles. Yet Irenaeus developed these ideas in new directions. Two developments which are generally attributed to him are the motif of the Word and Spirit as the “two hands of God” in creation, and the tendency to speak of the Spirit in terms of “wisdom” (Latin: sapientia). We shall consider each of these points briefly.
For Irenaeus, God brings the created order into being through Jesus Christ. Yet Irenaeus is clear that the Holy Spirit has a role in this process. Irenaeus speaks of the Wisdom and Word of God as the “hands” of God. “For the Word and Wisdom, the Son and the Spirit, were always present with [God], by whom and in whom, all things were made.” There is one God, who created and arranged all things by the Word and Wisdom. Human beings were “created in the likeness of God by the hands of the Father, that is, by the Son and the Holy Spirit.”
The second theme associated with Irenaeus is speaking of the Spirit as God's “Wisdom,” implying that the Spirit as Wisdom is present alongside the “Word” in God from the beginning. It also identifies a distinct role for the Holy Spirit in the economy of salvation, namely that of binding the creation together or bringing it to its intended goal. Most earlier Christian writers refer to the Logos as an agent of creation, but hardly any (Theophilus of Antioch, died c.183–5, is a rare exception) include the Spirit as a creator along with the Logos. Similarly, most early patristic writers followed Paul in regarding Jesus Christ as the “wisdom of God” (see 1 Corinthians 1: 24). Yet Theophilus and Irenaeus identified this pre-existent wisdom with the Holy Spirit, thus distinguishing the Holy Spirit from the Logos.
This distinction of the persons and roles of the Word and Wisdom is made particularly clear in this important passage: “We should know that the only true God is the one who made and formed and breathed in them the breath of life, and nourishes us by creation, establishing all things by his Word, and binding them together by his Wisdom.” Irenaeus here speaks of the work of the Word and Spirit in quite distinct manners. The Word “establishes” (confirmare) all things, while the Spirit “binds them all together” (compingere).
Athanasius (c.293–373): The Debate Over the Divinity of the Holy Spirit
The relative absence of extensive discussion of the role of the Holy Spirit in the first three centuries reflects the fact that theological debate centered elsewhere. The Greek patristic writers had, in their view, more important things to do than worry about the Spirit, when vital political and Christological debates were raging all around them. This point was made by the fourth-century writer Amphilochius of Iconium (died c.400), who pointed out that the Arian controversy (see pp. 217–20) had first to be resolved before any serious discussion over the status of the Holy Spirit could get under way. The theological development of the early church was generally a response to public debates; once a serious debate got under way, doctrinal clarification was the inevitable outcome.
The debate in question initially centered upon a group of writers known as the Pneumatomachoi or “opponents of the spirit,” led by Eustathius of Sebaste (c.300–77 or 380). These writers argued that neither the person nor the works of the Spirit were to be regarded as having the status or nature of a divine person. Many Christians had no difficulty in accepting the full divinity of the Son, but found themselves unable to extend that confession to the Holy Spirit. So what were their concerns? One of the most fundamental concerns was that the Bible simply did not speak explicitly of the Holy Spirit in terms that implied its divinity.
A group known as the Tropici appealed to texts such as Amos 4: 13 and 1 Timothy 5: 21 in defense of their belief that the Holy Spirit was a creature, rather than being divine. Amos 4: 13 could be understood to speak of God “creating” the Spirit (Hebrew: ruach). Yet their critics suggested that the context implied that the reference was to “the wind,” not to the Spirit. Similarly, 1 Timothy 5: 21 could be interpreted to mean that the Spirit was really an angel. More significantly, the Tropici argued that, if the Spirit was not a creature, the Spirit must also be a Son. After all, if the Spirit was understood to come from the Father, and be one with the Father, this amounted to identifying the Spirit of God with the Son of God.
In response to such concerns, writers such as Athanasius and Basil of Caesarea (c.330–79) made an appeal to the formula which had by then become universally accepted for baptism. Since the time of the New Testament (see Matthew 28: 18–20), Christians had been baptized in the name of “the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.” Athanasius argued that this had momentous implications for an understanding of the status of the person of the Holy Spirit. In a letter to his friend Bishop Serapion of Thmuis, Athanasius declared that the baptismal formula clearly pointed to the Spirit sharing the same divinity as the Father and the Son.
In combating the Tropici, Athanasius had two main tasks. First, he had to provide a solid theological foundation to defend the divinity of the Spirit. Second, he had to show that there was a distinct theological space for the Spirit alongside the Son, so that the Spirit was not merged with the Son. The Spirit had to be shown to have a distinct relationship with the Father, rather than duplicating that of the Son. Athanasius provided answers to both these problems.
First, Athanasius argued that the work of the Spirit pointed inescapably to the divine nature of the Spirit. How could the Spirit deify humanity if the Spirit itself was a creature? After all, Paul refers to the church as the “temple of God” within which the Spirit dwells. “If the Holy Spirit were a creature, we should have no participation in God. If indeed we were joined to a creature, we should be strangers to the divine nature in that we do not share it.” This argument eventually prevailed. The Spirit can only sanctify humanity if the Spirit is divine. A creature cannot make anyone holy; only God can do this.
Second, Athanasius developed a framework within which the Spirit and Son could both be affirmed to be divine, but with different patterns of relationship to the Father. The Son and Spirit share in the work of the Father but have distinct identities. In his Letters to Serapion, Athanasius develops some images to help clarify this. The Father is the fountain, the Son is the river that flows from the fountain, and the Spirit is the water of the river. Or again, the Father is light, the Son is the radiance emanating from this light, and the Spirit is the one “by whom we are enlightened.” Whenever someone receives the Spirit, they receive the Son and Father as well.
The Council of Constantinople (381)
As we noted above, many patristic writers were hesitant to speak openly of the Spirit as “God” as this practice was not sanctioned by Scripture – a point discussed at some length by Basil of Caesarea in his treatise on the Holy Spirit (374–5). Even as late as 380, Gregory of Nazianzus (329–89) conceded that many Orthodox Christian theologians were uncertain as to whether to treat the Holy Spirit “as an activity, as a creator, or as God.”
This caution can be seen in the final statement of the doctrine of the Holy Spirit formulated by the Council of Constantinople in 381. The Spirit was here described, not explicitly as “God,” but slightly more indirectly as “the Lord and giver of life, who proceeds from the Father, and is worshiped and glorified with the Father and Son.” The Spirit is to be treated as having the same dignity and rank as the Father and Son, even if the term “God” is not to be used explicitly. The precise relation of the Spirit to Father and Son would subsequently become an item of debate in its own right, as the filioque controversy indicates (see pp. 287–9).
The following considerations seem to have been of decisive importance in establishing the divinity of the Holy Spirit during the later fourth century. First, as Gregory of Nazianzus stressed, Scripture applied all the titles of God to the Spirit, with the exception of “unbegotten.” Gregory drew particular attention to the use of the word “holy” to refer to the Spirit, arguing that this holiness did not result from any external source but was the direct consequence of the nature of the Spirit. The Spirit was to be considered as the one who sanctifies, rather than the one who requires to be sanctified.
Second, the functions which are specific to the Holy Spirit establish the divinity of the Spirit. Didymus the Blind (c.313–98) was one of many writers to point out that the Spirit was responsible for the creation, renewal, and sanctification of God's creatures. Yet how could one creature renew or sanctify another creature? Only if the Spirit was divine could sense be made of these functions. If the Holy Spirit performed functions which were specific to God, it must follow that the Holy Spirit shares in the divine nature. This point is stated with particular clarity by Basil of Caesarea:
All who are in need of sanctification turn to the Spirit; all those seek him who live by virtue, for his breath refreshes them and comes to their aid in the pursuit of their natural and proper end. Capable of perfecting others, the Spirit himself lacks nothing. He is not a being who needs to restore his strength, but himself supplies life. [...] Souls in which the Spirit dwells, illuminated by the Spirit, themselves become spiritual and send forth their grace to others. From here comes foreknowledge of the future, understanding of mysteries, apprehension of what is hidden, the sharing of the gifts of grace, heavenly citizenship, a place in the chorus of angels, joy without end, abiding in God, being made like God and – the greatest of them all – being made God.
For Basil, the Spirit makes creatures both to be like God and to be God – and only one who is divine can bring this about.
Third, the reference to the Spirit in the baptismal formula of the church was interpreted as supporting the divinity of the Spirit. Baptism took place in the name of the “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28: 18–20). Athanasius and others argued that this formula established the closest of connections between the three members of the Trinity, making it impossible to suggest that the Father and Son shared in the substance of the Godhead, while the Spirit was nothing other than a creature. In a similar way, Basil of Caesarea argued that the baptismal formula clearly implied the inseparability of Father, Son, and Spirit. This verbal association, according to Basil, clearly had considerable theological implications.
The recognition of the full divinity of the Spirit thus took place at a relatively late stage in the development of patristic theology. In terms of the logical advance of doctrines, the following historical sequence can be discerned.
This sequential development was acknowledged by Gregory of Nazianzus, who pointed to a gradual progress in clarification and understanding of the mystery of God's revelation in the course of time. It was, he argued, impossible to deal with the question of the divinity of the Spirit until the issue of the divinity of Christ had been settled.
The Old Testament preached the Father openly and the Son more obscurely. The New Testament revealed the Son, and hinted at the divinity of the Holy Spirit. Now the Spirit dwells in us, and is revealed more clearly to us. It was not proper to preach the Son openly, while the divinity of the Father had not yet been admitted. Nor was it proper to accept the Holy Spirit before [the divinity of] the Son had been acknowledged. [...] Instead, by gradual advances and partial ascents, we should move forward and increase in clarity, so that the light of the Trinity should shine.
Augustine of Hippo (354–430): The Spirit as a Bond of Unity
One of the most significant contributions to the development of the theology of the Holy Spirit stems from Augustine. Augustine had become a Christian partly through the influence of Marius Victorinus, who had himself converted to Christianity from a pagan background. Victorinus had a distinct approach to the role of the Spirit, as can be seen from a hymn which he had penned:
Although the theology of these lines seems modalist (to anticipate a trinitarian heresy we shall explore presently; see pp. 308–10), an idea of considerable importance is nevertheless expressed: that the Spirit is the “bond of the Father and the Son [patris et filii copula].”
In his treatise On the Trinity, Augustine insists upon the distinctiveness of the Spirit; nevertheless, despite this distinctive identity, the Spirit is what is common to the Father and Son. The Father is only the Father of the Son, and the Son only the Son of the Father; the Spirit, however, is the Spirit of both Father and Son, binding them together in a bond of love. In his discussion of this point, Augustine concedes that Scripture does not explicitly state that the Holy Spirit is love; however, in that God is love, and the Spirit is God, it seems to follow naturally that the Holy Spirit is love:
Scripture teaches us that he is the Spirit neither of the Father alone nor of the Son alone, but of both; and this suggests to us the mutual love by which the Father and the Son love one another. [...] Yet Scripture has not said: “the Holy Spirit is love.” If it had, much of our inquiry would have been rendered unnecessary. Scripture does indeed say: “God is love” (1 John 4: 8, 16); and so leaves us to ask whether it is God the Father, or God the Son, or God the Holy Spirit, or God the Trinity itself, who is love.
Augustine regards the Spirit as the bond of unity between Father and Son, on the one hand, and between God and believers, on the other. The Spirit is a gift, given by God, which unites believers both to God and to other believers. The Holy Spirit forges bonds of unity between believers, upon which the unity of the church ultimately depends. The church is the “temple of the Holy Spirit,” within which the Holy Spirit dwells. The same Spirit which binds together the Father and Son in the unity of the Godhead also binds together believers in the unity of the church.
Symbols of the Spirit: A Dove, Fire, and Oil
One of the most interesting aspects of early Christianity is its rich use of symbols as ways of expressing its fundamental beliefs and values. Of those symbols, the most important is the cross. Christians were baptized with the sign of the cross. Churches and other Christian places of meeting did not merely include a cross; they were often built in the shape of a cross. Yet other symbols emerged as important around this time, including three which were specifically linked with the Holy Spirit. Each of these images – especially the first two – found a wide history of use in Christian worship.
A Dove
The gospel descriptions of the baptism of Jesus of Nazareth include reference to “the Spirit descending like a dove on him” (Mark 1: 10). From the fifth century onwards, the image of a dove came to be used to represent the Holy Spirit, especially in the context of Christian baptism. This was sometimes elaborated – for example, by stressing how Noah's dove (Genesis 8: 9–11) was a “type” (p. 115) of Christ. Ephrem the Syrian (c.306–73) offers a good example of this kind of typological reflection.
This image was widely taken up in the Middle Ages, and is especially evident in the portrayal of the crucifixion of Christ. Many artistic representations of this event frame it in a Trinitarian perspective. Although the predominant image is a suffering Christ, that of the Father and a dove (representing the Spirit) are often incorporated into the background. The point being made is that redemption is a Trinitarian, not simply a Christological, event.
Fire
Pentecost, the Christian feast which focuses on the person of the Holy Spirit, is traditionally associated with the image of fire. This tradition goes back to the New Testament, which speaks of “divided tongues, as of fire,” appearing among those present on the original Day of Pentecost (Acts 2: 3). This imagery was widely used in Christian symbolism. For example, Ephrem the Syrian used the sun as an analogy of the Trinity: the sun itself corresponds to the Father, its light to the Son, and its heat to the Spirit. This symbol of the Spirit is often used to illuminate the manner in which the Holy Spirit purifies or sanctifies individuals, by burning off impurities – for example, as a refiner purifies metal.
Figure 12.1 Pietro de Grebber's Baptism of Christ (1625), showing the Holy Spirit as a dove. Oil on canvas, 235 x 155 cm, 1625. Beckum, St. Stephanuskirche.
Source: Photo: akg-images.
Oil
A third image picks up on the rich associations of oil, particularly within the religious life of ancient Israel. Oil was used to anoint kings and priests of Israel, and was a symbol of divine acceptance or endorsement. As we saw earlier, the important Christological title “messiah” derives from the Hebrew word for “anointed.” Similarly, the prophet Elijah was told to anoint Elisha as his successor (1 Kings 19: 16). A text which was particularly important to the early church in this respect was Isaiah 61: 1, cited by Jesus of Nazareth at the beginning of his Galilean ministry: “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me.” Many saw a causal link between anointment with oil and the presence of the Spirit.
Having considered various approaches and issues which emerged during reflection on the doctrine of the Trinity, we must now turn to consider a debate which has been of considerable importance historically and theologically – namely, the manner in which the Holy Spirit is related to the Son. This controversy has come to be known as the “filioque controversy” and is considered in what follows.