Chapter 5: Council of Ephesus
After I Constantinople, the divinity of the Word was well secured in the Church. The picture changed somewhat at this point. The earlier debates had centered around the Trinity, and the question was asked: "What is the relationship of the Logos (Word) to the Father?" It indicated a special concern for Christ in His divine nature and His relationship to the Trinity.
In the fifth century, we can note a new interest, although the debates and crises continue to mount on all sides. Those now taking part in the discussions all admitted the fact that the Logos is truly God in the sense defined at Nicea. They began to inquire about the relationship of the Logos to the human nature of Christ. The big question now became: "What is the relationship of the Logos (Word) to Jesus of Nazareth?"
While the controversy was being waged between the Arians and the Catholics toward the end of the fourth century, a new outlook was being developed. The Catholics had been insisting that Christ was both true God and true man. The Arians had really ended up by stating the exact opposite: Christ was neither true God nor true man. He was not of the same substance with the Father, hence He was not God; but the Logos was also a superangelic being, created before all other creatures, so that the Arians tended to pass over the humanity of Christ.
In the back of this Arian teaching there was the seed of another error. This started to come to light especially in the teaching of Apollinaris; his error had also been condemned at I Constantinople in 381: Apollinarianism.
Apollinaris was the bishop of Laodicea in Syria, and a violent anti-Arian. But in opposing that doctrine he himself fell into another extreme. Apollinaris accepted the divinity of Christ in the full and orthodox sense, but he failed to do full justice to His humanity. Thus, differing from the Catholics and from the Arians, Apollinaris would say that Christ was true God, but not true man.
The reason for this position was more or less his acceptance of Plato's philosophy, which he then applied wrongly to Christ. Plato, a Greek philosopher who died about 347 B.C., had spoken of a threefold division in man: he had a body, a soul, and a spirit. The "spirit" was the element in man that made it possible for him to think, to act as a rational human being. The soul simply joined with the body to give it life; it is what he would call a "sensitive soul," rather than a rational soul.
When Apollinaris spoke of Christ, therefore, he claimed that Christ was a true human being in the sense that He did have a soul; but this was a sensitive soul only. Thus Christ had a true body and the five senses; He had true human feelings and emotions. All this pertained to the sense life.
In regard to the "spirit," however, which Apollinaris considered the source of intellectual life, he held that Christ had no such spirit: He possessed, in other words, no rational soul. For Apollinaris, the Logos took over the role of the "spirit" in Christ, and was therefore the source of His thought life and the acts of His will.
Since man is a combination of body and soul, to be a true man means to think and to will to do things in the very same manner that other human beings think and will. Apollinaris failed to explain properly the humanity of Christ for this reason. If Christ had no human "spirit," He also had no human thoughts, no human will; thus He could not be human in the same way that other men are. And if this were true, then what is to be said of those texts in Scripture which say that Christ "prayed" to the Father in heaven, and that He "obeyed" the command of the Father in dying upon the cross? These are actions of a human mind and a human will. Christ could not pray or obey insofar as He is the second Person of the Trinity; this He could do only insofar as He is man and possesses a true human intellect and will.
This, then, was the starting point for all the debates of the next two or three centuries. It was to lead to a fuller understanding of Christ, and when the debates had ended, there would be a record of four more General Councils that had arisen to clarify these questions.
Apollinaris had really intended only to defend the unity of Christ. He had wanted to show that Christ the Man was really and truly the Logos, the second Person of the Trinity. To him it seemed best, therefore, to explain all the mental activities of Christ by considering them the actions of the Logos. In doing this, however, he was really teaching that Christ was not a true man at all; He possessed no true human nature. It was only to be expected that he would soon be attacked.
His greatest opposition came from the school of Antioch. Diodore of Tarsus opposed him at once, laying much greater emphasis on the two realities in Christ: a true and perfect human nature as well as a true and perfect divine nature. He passed this teaching on to Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Theodore, in turn, may have been the teacher who passed it on to Nestorius. At any rate, when we come to Nestorius we find a man who is thoroughly penetrated by the principles of the school of Antioch. It is after this man that the second great heresy of the early Church is named: Nestorianism. This heresy was concerned with the relationship of Christ's human nature to His divine nature.
In his own eyes at least, Nestorius was a great defender of the faith. He was strongly opposed to the Arians and the Semi-Arians who had already been condemned. With the teachings of the school of Antioch as his norm, however, he went a step further. He thought that he could perceive within the Church itself another error that concerned Christ, and he struck out against it.
Like Theodore of Mopsuestia, Nestorius was far from achieving any great clarity in the statement of his position. While the underlying principles may have been obscure, the final conclusions were not. For this reason, Nestorius soon aroused the ire of the bishops of his time because of his teaching, which failed to do justice to Catholic faith. Theodore had emphasized so much the fact that Christ was both God and man (against Apollinaris and his followers), that he practically ended up by talking about two entirely distinct persons: Christ, who was God; and Jesus of Nazareth, who was man. Nestorius did the same, even more clearly.
Nestorius saw a further application of this position which he made his own in a special way. He concluded that Mary brought forth only Jesus, and not the Logos. The Logos only began to dwell in a special manner in Jesus of Nazareth some time after He was born. This meant, therefore, that we are not justified in calling Mary the "Mother of God," except in some loose, figurative sense. She was only the Mother of Christ, in whom God (the Logos) later came to dwell. It was in this conclusion about Mary that the error of Nestorius became most apparent.
When Nestorius became the bishop of Constantinople, a new crisis was in the process of formation. About the year 428, one of his disciples, the monk Anastasius, mentioned this point in a sermon; the clergy and the faithful were shocked. When they complained of it to the bishop, Nestorius not only refused to condemn the teaching, but he made use of the opportunity to set forth the doctrine himself.
For many years now, the faithful had spoken of the Blessed Mother as the Theotokos - the "Mother of God." There are indications of its use in prayers as early as the third century. Nestorius now claimed that this was a dangerous word. He held that we ought to speak of Mary only as the Christotokos - the "Mother of Christ." Thus the defense of the true doctrine concerning Christ was necessarily linked so intimately to the honor given to Mary as His Mother. One cannot dishonor Mary without dishonoring Christ as well, and those who heard Nestorius preach realized this.
The Catholic faith has always insisted that Christ possesses two complete and perfect natures, the human and the divine. These two natures are not in any way confused with one another; there is nothing essential lacking to either. As Scripture indicates, Christ is true God and true Man.
These two natures are united, however, insofar as they belong to one and the same Person: the second Person of the Trinity. From all eternity this divine Person possessed His divine nature. Without losing this, He also assumed, at the time of the Incarnation, a human nature that was fashioned in the body of Mary. He made entirely His own this human body and the spiritual soul God infused into it; this was accomplished by the action of the entire Trinity. It is accordingly the human body and soul of that Person to whom the Trinity united it: the second Person of the Trinity.
Since it is through the Person that the human and divine in Christ are united, the Church speaks of the "hypostatic union" - a word derived from the Greek word for person (hypostasis). It means that in the union of the human and divine natures, both natures remain complete and perfect; they are united, however, "in the person" (hypostasis) of the divine Word, the second Person of the Trinity.
Nestorius, on the other hand, seemed to hold that there was originally a "human person" resulting from the union of this body and soul in Christ (just as there was a "divine Person" in the Trinity -the second Person, the Logos). Nestorius indicated that some kind of new person resulted from the union of these two. He did not hold that this human person and the divine Person were either fused together or destroyed, as later heretics did; but they were joined together in such a way that the human person was somehow subordinate to the divine person.
No matter how you understand this, however, it can only amount to saying that there is no more than a "moral union" of two entirely distinct persons in Christ. The so-called human person is "more or less" joined to the divine Person, but that is all. The end result is that when you consider the body and soul of Jesus, the Son of Mary, you do not really consider the body and soul of God. The Logos only dwells in this body and soul, as in a temple. The body and soul really belong to the "human person."
For Nestorius, then, Jesus of Nazareth is simply the "God-bearer," and not really God. Since the Logos dwells within Him, Nestorius would say that Jesus is "one" with God, but not in the sense that the Church had always understood it. This became most clear in the further conclusion regarding the Blessed Virgin. According to Nestorius, Mary was, we might say, the Mother of the "temple," but not of the Logos; she was not the Mother of God, but only the Mother of Jesus of Nazareth.
On the other hand, the Church insisted that a mother is always the mother of a person; she is not simply the producer of a body. Common sense alone indicates this. A mother is mother of someone, not something. Ultimately the question, therefore, is this: "Precisely who is Christ?" If Christ is God, then Mary is the Mother of God, the mother of the divine Person. If Christ is not a human person, Mary cannot be the mother of a human person.
Mary is not the Mother of God in His divine nature, obviously; God is eternal, infinite. But in becoming the Mother of God in His human nature, she was necessarily the Mother of the Person to whom that human nature belonged, and that Person was the second Person of the Trinity. This was the chief point of the entire dispute. To call Mary the Mother of God is really another way of saying that Christ is God: one divine Person with both a human and a divine nature.
Nestorius was most firm in his position. He excommunicated the members of his own church who refused to accept his teaching. Some appealed at once to the Emperor, while others notified the Bishop of Rome. In this way the stage was set for the third General Council, the Council of Ephesus in 431.
From Rome there came the request of Pope Celestine I (422-432) for further information about the dispute at Constantinople. He wrote to the patriarch of Alexandria, St. Cyril, for this information. Thus Cyril became the leading character of this debate, somewhat as Athanasius had been in regard to the Arians.
Cyril sent his report to Rome with the deacon, Posidonius; he reached there in the spring of 430. The Western bishops examined the teaching of Nestorius at Rome and declared that it was heretical. The Pope then sent word to Cyril that he was to depose Nestorius if he did not reject his teaching within ten days after he heard their decision.
Before proceeding with this directive, however, Cyril decided to call together the bishops of the East at Alexandria in order to investigate again the precise error of Nestorius. Perhaps more than the Western bishops, Cyril may have realized the danger of not pinning Nestorius down to precise points; the long and troublesome history of the Arian controversy was still fresh enough in the memory of the East.
The Eastern bishops gathered together, and on November 3, 430, they issued a letter along with the famous twelve Anathemata of Cyril. These were a series of propositions condemning errors about Christ. Nestorius was to subscribe to them or be deposed. They were intended to be very precise doctrinal statements, eliminating all possibility of misunderstanding. As it happened, they were phrased in Cyril's own words, and there was some possibility of misunderstanding; they were destined to play a role in later history.
Nestorius and his followers rejected the entire idea, and turned to accuse Cyril himself of being a heretic. A number of other bishops also supported Nestorius, above all John, the patriarch of Antioch. Some did so because they were in agreement with Nestorius' position; others were perhaps confused by the terminology of Cyril. But the battle was on again.
The Roman emperors then took the next step. The empire was still divided between two men: Theodosius II was the Eastern emperor, and Valentinian III was the emperor in the West - the last really effective one of the West. Theodosius, however, was the moving force in this matter. Although neither Pope Celestine nor Cyril had asked for a Council, the question had been mentioned; Nestorius especially had sought a Council. Theodosius therefore convoked a Council that was to open on Pentecost Sunday of 431 at Ephesus. This was a famous seaport along the Aegean Sea, a city known in pagan times for its devotion to the Greek goddess, Diana. In Christian Ephesus a far more noble woman had taken the place of Diana in their hearts: the Mother of God. It was only fitting that her glories should happen to be extolled there at this third Ecumenical Council.
The Pope had known of the desire of Nestorius and others for a Council; hence there was no great surprise at Rome. He agreed to send three legates to represent him at the gathering: two bishops, Arcadius and Projectus, and the priest, Philip. They were given careful instructions. First of all, they were to attach themselves firmly to Cyril of Alexandria, who would serve as their guide.
Second, they were to safeguard the rights of the Bishop of Rome. They were to come as judges, not as parties to a controversy. The Bishop of Rome had already settled the question of Nestorius and his teaching; they were simply to make sure that this was carried out. Owing to this directive the Council produced some of the most outstanding testimony of that century to the Roman primacy, since the bishops gave vocal expression to their acceptance of papal authority.
Lastly, considering the difficulty of travel in those days, the legates were told that, should they arrive late, they were to investigate carefully everything that had taken place before their arrival. As time would prove, this was a bit of advice well given.
When the Council opened, most of the bishops present were, once again, from the East. Africa sent one deacon; at the time it was sorely pressed with attacks from the Vandals and not many could attend the Council; the same was true in Italy, which sent only the legates of the Pope. There was a great deal of difficulty involved in getting there on time. When the appointed day arrived, the papal legates had not yet arrived, and the patriarch of Antioch, John (who had been appointed by the Emperor to preside), was also absent. In John's case the delay may have been on purpose. He was a friend of Nestorius, and may not have wished to take part in the condemnation; at any rate, he did send on word that they ought not wait too long, should he be delayed.
After waiting sixteen days, Cyril insisted that they go on with the Council; thus the first session actually got under way on June 22, 431. Nestorius was there with six bishops; Cyril with about 50 bishops; and Memnon, the bishop of Ephesus, was present with about 40 of his suffragan bishops and 12 from Pamphylia. At the start there were about 159 bishops who attended the Council, although 198 signatures appear on the final condemnation. Count Candidian was present as the representative of the Emperor.
All went well that first day. The Council opened in the Church of St. Mary at Ephesus. Nestorius was offered an opportunity to appear three times, but refused. The letters of Cyril and of Pope Celestine, in which the teaching of Nestorius was condemned, were read and approved. A number of other statements taken from the writings of earlier Fathers were also read; these were offered in support of the teaching of Celestine and Cyril. Nestorius was then declared to be deposed as bishop of Constantinople and excommunicated for his heretical teaching.
The people of Ephesus celebrated this great triumph that very night. They passed through the lighted city, carrying torches and incense in honor of what had been accomplished. The truth concerning Christ and the honor due His Mother had once again been affirmed.
But this was not the end. As with many of the other Councils, a storm was yet to arise. The next day the Council officially notified Nestorius of the sentence; word was also sent to the priests of Constantinople, informing them that their bishop had been deposed. Nestorius was angered; so also was Candidian, the representative of the Emperor. Candidian had opposed the holding of a session until the others arrived. In the name of the Emperor, therefore, Candidian promptly declared the entire proceedings null and void.
A few days later, John, the patriarch of Antioch, arrived and showed himself no less receptive to what had been done. He sided with Candidian, and gathered together with 43 bishops to form a rebel council. They at once issued their own decrees, deposing Cyril and Memnon (the bishop of Ephesus), and excommunicating their followers. They claimed that they, and not Nestorius, were the real heretics, guilty of Arianism and Apollinarianism.
The Emperor was quite upset by this turn of events and demanded that the bishops all remain in Ephesus until an investigation could be made. About July 10, the papal legates finally arrived, and set things in order. Following the directives of Pope Celestine, they reviewed all that had been done. When the acts had all been read, they approved and added their signatures to the decrees. They then notified the Emperor that the East and the West were in accord, and demanded permission to elect a new bishop of Constantinople.
There were in all six more sessions from July 10 to August 31. In these sessions the decrees against Cyril and Memnon were declared invalid. John of Antioch and his party, however, refused to agree to the proceedings. This was to remain a problem even after the Council.
A number of other decrees were also issued, concerning above all the heresy of Pelagius which had been upsetting the West in particular during these same years; this had been one of the chief concerns of the great St. Augustine. He had died in 430, but had been sent an invitation to attend the Council of Ephesus; those concerned had not as yet heard of his death. Another decree pronounced that no one could add anything to the Creed issued at Nicea. This also was destined to play a role in the later disputes at the time of the Great Eastern Schism. But the chief work was the condemnation of the error of Nestorius.
When all was finished, the work of Ephesus was essentially a triumph. Nestorianism was doomed. It marked the beginning, however, of further complications. The Emperor Theodosius II officially ended the council toward the end of October, 431. Strangely, he had accepted both the condemnation of Nestorius by the authentic Council and the condemnation of Cyril by the rebel council. Cyril, however, was able to gain the approval of the Emperor, and through the help of his friends, Theodosius gave way. In October of 431, the Emperor permitted Cyril to return to Egypt as the bishop of Alexandria; he continued to recognize the condemnation of Nestorius.
Nevertheless, John of Antioch and his followers still exercised their influence. A division had resulted from the Council, and this had to be healed. Neither the Pope nor the Emperor accepted the condemnation of John of Antioch and his party. By thus leaving the door open for a peaceful solution, much good resulted. By 433, the followers of Cyril and John of Antioch had discussed the questions and assured one another that they both held to the same doctrine, even though their terminology might differ. All signed the formula of agreement, and the matter rested, for the time being at least. Ephesus had won over all of those concerned.