individuality that refuses the sanctifying wisdom which comes “from above” (James 3:15, 17). According to Forsythe, such wisdom is dispensed by the “Grand State Secretary of heaven on earth, the Holy Spirit.”48
In speaking of the Father and Son as being “consubstantial,” Gregory of Nazianzen recognizes that the light of the Spirit must also be “true God in itself” in order to save us. While Athanasius argues for the Spirit’s divinity from the Spirit’s participation in the divine act of creation, Gregory argues from soteriology. Forsythe tightens this crucial link between divine authority and soteriology:
If there is any authority over the natural man, it must be that of its Creator; and, if the New Humanity has any authority above it, that authority must be found in the act of its creation, which act is the Cross of Christ.49
This is where our “story” begins—the story of the progressive unveiling the Spirit’s authority in theological Church history. This first substantial “unveiling” emerges through a heated debate regarding the Spirit’s essential nature—the idea that the Spirit, as a divine Person, possesses divine authority. The Spirit retains authority over the world while revealing God’s authority to us. The Patristic arguments for the Spirit’s equality and shared divinity with the other Trinitarian Persons point toward his authority as a divine Person. Their arguments for the Spirit’s divine transcendence, divine “absoluteness,” and involvement in certain activities (i.e., creation, salvation, and sanctification) confirm this authority.50
As seen in the previous chapter, the “principle of authority” in Christianity grants the Spirit “divine authority” as a divine Person. This lies at the foundation of pattern of divine authority. The Church Fathers seem to claim that the Spirit, as a member of the Trinity, reveals himself to all humanity by demonstrating his authority over all humanity. This seems to become the first parameter within which a case for the Spirit’s authority can be developed.51 Any attempt to portray the Spirit’s nature as subordinate, “creaturely,” or in purely “anthropomorphic” terms will only run against these theological conclusions in that they only serve to reduce the Spirit to something less than a fully divine Person (and thus not able to possess divine authority at all).
Historians will rightly point out that the Nicene and Constantinople Creeds are ambiguous regarding the divinity of the Spirit. The reason for this, however, is well-known—namely, the Church rightly saw the need for clarification of Christology before pneumatology.52 Yet, interestingly, the word choice given in the Constantinople Creed in describing the Spirit as “the Lord, the Life-giver” represents the Spirit’s authority more so than his divinity.53 Yet this is only where the story begins.
Medieval Theology
In this section, I will evaluate the medieval debate over the Filioque 54 clause in an attempt to discern implications for the relationship between the Spirit’s authority and Christ’s authority. To begin this discernment it will be very helpful to trace the impact of political/theological history upon the development of Eastern and Western pneumatologies. In doing so we discover the true nature, potency, and impact of this debate.
Alexander the Great (356–323 BC) brought the center of civilization westward to Europe, and after Roman occupation the pax Romana eventually extended there as well. Though this might give the impression of a unified confederation, Ramm points out that this is a “mirage” because “the map fails to convey the enormous diversity that persisted in the Roman Empire. Underneath the apparent unity was a great cultural division of the East and West.”55 After the birth of Christianity, this division was only exacerbated by the rise of Byzantine (Eastern) Christianity (which eventually proved to be a serious threat to the primacy of Rome), the rapid rise of Islam (which created internal pressure within Christendom) and the eventual missionary movements of both Eastern and Western Churches (which further underscored the polarity).56 This division found theological support as well, with the Eastern Church tending toward “mystical” theology and the Western Church toward a more “rational” one. The great modern pneumatologist Ives Congar cites T. de Regnon’s studies of the Eastern and Western conceptions of the Trinity. According to de Regnon, “The Latins regarded the personality as the way in which nature was expressed, while the Greeks thought of nature as the content of the person. These are contrary ways of viewing things, throwing two concepts of the same reality on to different grounds.”57 The Latin theologian therefore says, “three persons in one God”; whereas the Greek says, “one God in three persons.” The faith and the dogma are approximately the same in each model, but the mystery is presented in two different forms.
The impact of medieval history upon pneumatology becomes most apparent when one explores the tense cohabitation that developed between Church and State. This relationship stems back to the late patristic era, and particularly to Constantine, who attempted to “christianize” the Roman Empire in AD 312. Though Constantine was converted in 313, we learn from Berman’s excellent analysis that Constantine’s project may have actually stunted the early Church’s growth.
[It] raised in stark terms the question whether Christianity had anything positive to contribute to the ruler’s role as supreme judge and supreme legislature in his domain. The question was reduced especially acute by the belief that the emperor was the head of the Church and represented Christ on earth. . . . The Christian emperors of Byzantium considered it their Christian responsibility to revise the laws, as they put it, “in the direction of greater humanity.”58
Berman cites many positive changes that took place under Constantine—changes regarding women’s rights in marriage and society, slave rights, judicial reform, and the systematization of law as a step toward a “humanized” Christianity.59 Still, the elimination of anti-Christian laws was very difficult, and the Roman legal system was in decay throughout most of Byzantium history.
Despite its generally humanizing influence on the law, Eastern Christianity may indeed have ultimately exerted, on the whole, a negative effect upon Byzantine legal science, since it robbed Roman law of its ultimate significance while offering no alternative system of justice in the world.60
This occurred, seemingly, because of a lack of significant “grounding” with respect to the Eastern Church’s understanding of legal authority; in other words, there was a lack of true connection made between divine authority and such practical issues as law. Nevertheless, while this “authority vacuum” was developing in the East, an even greater one appeared in the West, but for a different reason. From 476 on, and particularly after 495 when Clovis was converted, the West began the process of independence from imperial rule. Clovis, who was called Christus Pantocrator (“Christ as ruler” over the world and especially over the emperor), began the process of setting the Church free from the secular empire, which resulted in the rise of a desacrilized secular state as well. The Popes attempted to fill this authority vacuum by vehemently asserting that their authority was derived from Peter and not from their political setting. It was Gelasius (Pope from 492 to 496) who, over against the emperors, began to intervene at will in ecclesiastical affairs, asserting an independent and higher political authority in religious matters. So, while the doctrine of the Spirit seemed
