Skip to main content

St. Basil: Identity of Language – Ekonomia and Theologia

Below is an excerpt from my exposition of St. Basil[1], from his treatise, On the Spirit. I thought it was a helpful example of doing theology correctly—the way of the Great Tradition.

He begins this work examining the heretics’ (the Arians) “use of syllables” to distort the doctrine of the Trinity. They posit that when Scripture uses prepositional phrases (i.e., syllables) speaking of the activity of God, these phrases create a subordinate ranking, which makes the Son and the Spirit of a different nature from the Father. The heresy is promoted as such: In the words of the apostle: “‘One God and Father of whom are all things, . . . and one Lord Jesus Christ by whom are all things’ (1 Cor 8:6) ‘Whatever, then,’ he goes on, ‘is the relation of these terms to one another, such will be the relation of the natures indicated by them; and as the term ‘of whom’ is unlike the term ‘by whom,’ so is the Father unlike the Son” (Spir. 2.4). And following this manner of thought, the differing prepositions taxonomizes the Father from the Son and the Spirit from the Son and Father. The Son is a subordinate agent or instrument through whom the Father creates, and the Spirit is subordinate to the Son in whom the Father creates, whereby the Spirit “may appear to be adding to existing things nothing more than a contribution derived from place or time” (Spir. 2.4).

Basil pauses briefly to discuss the nature of the “heathen philosophy” that forms the basis of this faulty logic. The heretics have adopted this mode of thinking, attributing certain natures or give certain significations when discussing the nature of causality, i.e., the four causes (Formal, Efficient, Material, and Final). Briefly, Formal is the form or idea according to which a thing is made; Efficient is the agent acting on the thing made; Material is out of which a thing is made; Final is the end to which a thing is made or purposed. Romans 11:36 and 1 Corinthians 8:6 affirm the centrality of the triune God in creation, whereby God is the source (ek), sustainer (dia), and goal (eis) of all things. It seems Paul understood this was common language in Greek stoicism, which Hellenistic Jews adopted and applied to Yahweh. Paul then borrows and applies it to the triune God (spec. Romans 11:36; cf. Moo, Romans, 743).

In his opponents’ adaptation of the four causes, they assert “by whom” is proper to the Father, thus he is the carpenter, “through which” signifies the instrument, thus the Son, and “of which” the material of the thing that is made, and “in which” refers to somewhere in time and space. And it is this last element of causality that they designate to the role of the Spirit. And so, we see that they have made an “unpractical philosophy” and “belittling” doctrine of the Spirit (Spir. 2.3.5). What is the result, Basil asks? “There is one nature of Cause; another of Instrument; another of Place. So, the Son is by nature distinct from the Father, as the tool from the craftsman; and the Spirit is distinct in so far as place or time is distinguished from the nature of tools or from that of them that handle them” (Spir. 4.6).

But Basil does not continue looking for scriptural proofs for his point; rather, he wants to engage in a discussion about “the identity of language.” His adversaries contend that the difference in language indicates a difference in nature. However, Basil is confident that they will “confess with shame that the essence is unchanged” (Spir. 5.11). In the next chapter, Basil outlines his opponents’ heretical notions, as mentioned already, challenging their assertion that the Son is “after the Father.” Their interpretive mistake in delineating an ontology is in using the divine ekonomia, the redemptive revelation of God in time and space, to formulate their doctrine of God. The Arians’ interpretation is defective because they allow an anthropomorphic reading of the text to govern their ontology. In refutation, Basil looks to a plain reading of John 1:1, observing that the two words
beginning and was keep us tethered to the text in that we have nowhere to go conceptually, leaving us with the notion that “it is impossible to get further than the beginning” , . . which teaches us to think that the Son was together with the Father in the beginning (Spir. 6.14).

The controlling skopos of Scripture, a particular summary of Scripture leading us to the principle of the unity of Scripture, teaches that the Bible, as a whole, reveals that Christ is fully human and fully divine. Therefore, this unifying theme makes individual texts of Scripture that appear to be contradictory are actually complementary of one another because Scripture is a product of the One, Divine mind (Carter, Contemplating God, 35). Khaled Anatolios identifies the key aspects of this unifying skopos about Christ—the central figure of Scripture. He notes this unifying principle is based on the names and language in reference to Christ observed in the NT authors, such as Wisdom and Power of God (1 Cor 1:24), the brightness of his glory (Heb 1:3). The related or shared language throughout all of Scripture the biblical writers employed to speak of the divine essence (i.e., The radiance of Light; he is a speaker of a Word; Wisdom and Power) are then lexically extended to include Christ. And this governing principle, “seemingly oversteps the contextual distance between different usages. The principle of the unity of Scripture is assumed to legitimate the meaningfulness of its intertextual relations” (Anatolios, Retrieving Nicaea, 111).

And we see Basil making that connection. He notes his opponents’ mistake in applying corporeal designations to the incorporeal essence, such as interpreting the expressions from Psalm 110:1, “Sit at my right hand,” and Hebrews 1:3, “he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high,” as God having a physical right hand and also that it indicates a lower rank, but rather “equality of relation.” The Son’s act of standing and sitting is not of inferiority; rather, Basil writes, it is indicative of the “immutability and immobility of the Divine mode of existence” (Spir. 6.15). And then we see the lexical extension, thus Christ’s inclusion in the divine essence, spoken of above. Basil writes, “Scripture puts before us the magnificence of the dignity of the Son by the use of dignified language indicating the seat of honor” (Spir. 6.15). And then he references 1 Corinthians 1:24, Colossians 1:15, Hebrews 1:3, and John 6:27 asking his opponents if the language referring to Christ that presume his inherent relation to God signify “inferiority of rank.” If Christ is the Power and Wisdom of God, how could he be anything less than the all-powerful and all-wise God? If Christ is a mere creature, then Paul has committed a heinous act of blasphemy.

Basil demonstrates his opponents’ error in their assumption that the phrase “through Him” makes the Word an instrument of God, thus inferior to God, by the role of the Word in the creative and providential acts, which alone belong to the Creator. Scripture credits the Son, the Word, with having brought forth “all created nature,” the visible and invisible, which cannot be sustained and upheld apart from the “Creator Word, the Only begotten God” (Spir. 8.19). Basil notes, He enlightens those in ignorance (John 1:9); He judges, for the Father has given all judgment to him (John 5:22); He is the Resurrection (John 11:25), raising those who have fallen. And “effectually working by the touch of His power and the will of His goodness He does all things” (Spir. 8.19). And then from the glory, power, and goodness of his touch, in a foray, Basil attributes all the excellencies of the divine essence to Christ:

He shepherds; He enlightens; He nourishes; He heals; He guides; He raises up; He calls into being things that were not; He upholds what has been created. Thus, the good things that come from God reach us “through the Son,” who works in each case with greater speed than speech can utter. For not lightnings, not light’s course in air, is so swift; not eyes’ sharp turn, not the movements of our very thought. Nay, by the divine energy is each one of these in speed further surpassed than is the slowest of all living creatures outdone in motion by birds, or even winds, or the rush of the heavenly bodies; or, not to mention these, by our very thought itself. For what extent of time is needed by Him who “upholds all things by the word of His power,” and works not by bodily agency, nor requires the help of hands to form and fashion, but holds in obedient following and unforced consent the nature of all things that are? (Spir. 8.19).

The work of the Son is to reveal the Father, “guiding us to the knowledge of the Father, and referring our wonder at all that is brought into existence to Him, to the end that ‘through Him’ we may know the Father” (Spir. 8.19). Basil’s cogent and clear elucidation of the Word is the summation of Scripture about Christ. The unifying theme of Scripture is that the triune God has revealed himself in Christ. Therefore, the triune God is neither tethered to time nor confined to any page, book, or testament of Scripture. It is a canonical revelation that should guide our interpretation and formulation of our doctrine of God. The divine activity of God is the divine activity of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. The divine energia, though manifesting the persons of the Trinity in distinct modes and activities—ekonomia, nevertheless must always be understood that there is no variation or separation in the divine essence or in the divine operations. Basil writes, “The Word is full of his Father’s excellencies; He shines forth from the Father and does all things according to the likeness of Him who begat Him.” Therefore, if he is the same in essence, he is the same in power (Spir. 8.19).

The power and operation are always equal because of the One, Divine will. The Son comes to execute the Father’s command, but what we see in the divine economy is not a denigrating of the Son. Basil is very keen to the Arian errors, noting that the interaction revealed between the Father and the Son, does not imply the Son’s ontological subservience to the Father. Rather, Basil emphasizes that we must theologize according to what is befitting of the Godhead—who is Spirit; the Father and the Son “perceive a transmission of will, like a reflection of an object in a mirror, passing without note of time from Father to Son.” Keeping the distinction between ekonomia and theologia, Basil notes when the Son announces that he only speaks what he hears the Father speak, or he only does what the Father commands him to do, the purpose is to “make plain” that the Son has an “indissoluble union with the Father” (Spir. 8.20). So, when Christ tells Philip, “The one who has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9), it is not the express image or the form of God that Philip sees, because “the divine nature does not admit of combination.” Rather, to see the Father in Christ, is to “see the goodness of the will of God, being concurrent with the essence, beheld as like and equal, or rather the same, in the Father as in the Son” (Spir. 8.21).

In conclusion, Basil expresses that the Father’s act of creating through the Son is the “confession of an antecedent Cause and is not adopted in objection to the efficient Cause.” What does that mean? The revelation of God as Creator and Cause in Scripture is the expressive act of the divine essence (theologia), whereby the modes and operations of the triune God are manifested in creation (ekonomia) in order to display the glory of God to creatures. The identity of language shared between the Father and the Son is for the purpose of indicating the one will of God in creation and providence. The prepositional phrases (Basil terms syllables) by, through, and in ascribed to the Persons of the Godhead do not imply taxonomic degradation; rather, it is a formulaic expression of divine accommodation.


~ Romans 11:36

________________________

1. Basil of Caesarea (c. ad 329–379), also called Basil the Great, was the leading figure of the group of three Cappadocian fathers who championed Nicene orthodoxy against the Arians in the later 4th century. Gregory of Nazianzus, the second of the group, formed a close friendship with Basil while they were students in Athens. The third member of the group, Basil’s younger brother, Gregory of Nyssa, was educated at home. On returning to Cappadocia, Basil devoted himself to an ascetic and devotional life and became a pioneer of coenobitic monasticism. Basil’s intellectual and administrative gifts led to his election as metropolitan bishop of Caesarea, the Cappadocian capital, in 372. After the death of Athanasius the following year, he was the chief pillar of orthodoxy in the East, defending the deity of the Son and Spirit against Arians and Pneumatomachi. He thus became the chief architect of the Cappadocian doctrine of the Trinity which became definitive for East and West. Basil’s two most important works are Against Eunomius, a reply to extreme Arianism, and On the Holy Spirit. Eunomius argued that since only creatures were begotten, the Son, being begotten, could not be God. Basil denies that ‘unbegottenness’ is an adequate definition of the essence of God, and defends the doctrine (inherited from Origen and Athanasius) of the eternal generation of the Son. The generation of creatures is physical and temporal. The generation of the Son is ineffable and eternal. Here Basil makes his distinctive contribution to Trinitarian doctrine. Athanasius and the older Nicenes had defended the deity of the Son by insisting that he was consubstantial (homoousios) with, of the same essence or substance (ousia) as, the Father. Basil made a distinction between ousia and hypostasis (which, confusingly, may also be literally translated as ‘substance’), hitherto used interchangeably. He spoke of one ousia of God, but three hypostaseis, the hypostasis of the Father, the hypostasis of the Son, and the hypostasis of the Holy Spirit. This became the definitive doctrine of the Trinity in the East. Cappadocian doctrine greatly influenced the West through Ambrose, although the West began from the oneness of God and spoke of three ‘persons’.

“Basil of Caesarea,” T. A. Noble, in Ferguson and Packer. New Dictionary of Theology.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Gregory of Nyssa: Trinity–Not Tri-deity

Gregory, a bishop of Nyssa in 371, was part of the Cappadocian trio, and was instrumental in the development of Trinitarian orthodoxy. His theological prowess proved vital in response to the Arian and Sabellian heresies. Key to Gregory’s theology we find “an emergence of a pro-Nicene ‘grammar’ of divinity through his developed account of divine power,” [1] conceived through a nature-power-activity formulation revealed in the created order and articulated in Scripture. Understanding the Triune God in this manner afforded a conception of the Trinity that was logical and thoroughly biblical. And this letter is paradigmatic on Gregory’s account of the divine nature. (* This article was later published with Credo Magazine, titled, “ The Grammar of Divinity (On Theology). ” See link below) To Ablabius, though short, is a polemical address whereby Gregory lays out a complex argument in response to the claim that three Divine Persons equal three gods. Basically put, Ablabius (his opponent,

St. John Chrysostom — for God is simple

Below is part of the introductory section to my exposition of John Chrysostom’s doctrine of God. I posted it because I thought it was fascinating to find such an important theologian known for avoiding (even having a disdain of) speculative theology refer to the classical doctrine of divine simplicity as common place in his thoroughly biblical doctrine of God. Toward the end I include a link to my full exposition. John Chrysostom (ca. 347–407) was the archbishop of Constantinople. Being the most prolific of all the Eastern fathers, he fought against the ecclesiastical and political leaders for their abuse of authority. He was called Chrysostom (meaning “golden-mouthed”) for his eloquent sermons. [1] This most distinguished of Greek patristic preachers excelled in spiritual and moral application in the Antiochene tradition of literal exegesis, largely disinterested, even untutored in speculative and controversial theology. [2] On the Incomprehensible Nature of G

John 17:3 – Eternal Life is Knowing God and Christ–the One, True God

    John 17:1–5. “ Jesus spoke these things, looked up to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you gave him authority over all people, so that he may give eternal life to everyone you have given him. This is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and the one you have sent—Jesus Christ. I have glorified you on the earth by completing the work you gave me to do. Now, Father, glorify me in your presence with that glory I had with you before the world existed .”

A Brief Exposition of Augustine's Doctrine of Divine Immutability

To much of the Western world, Augustine has no rival. He is the preeminent—uninspired—theologian of the Christian faith. When reading the titans of the church—i.e., Aquinas, Luther, and Calvin—Augustine’s theology and ideas are voluminously parroted all throughout their writings. His influence is unparalleled. Even the secular world sees Augustine as a mammoth figure in the shaping of human history. And its Augustine’s doctrine of God we will divert our attention to, looking specifically at his articulation of divine immutability Augustine’s doctrine of God is classical, through and through. He writes, “There is One invisible, from whom, as the Creator and First Cause, all things seen by us derive their being: He is supreme, eternal, unchangeable, and comprehensible by none save Himself alone” ( Ep . 232.5).[1] When reading his works, the doctrine of immutability is paramount, coming forth repeatedly. For Augustine, immutability, or God’s unchangeableness, is consequential

Gregory of Nazianzus: The Trinity - Not a Collection of Elements

Gregory of Nazianzus   One of the Cappadocian fathers, Gregory of Nazianzus (c.330–389), given the title, “The Theologian,” was instrumental in the development of the doctrine of the Trinity, specifically the distinct terms to describe the Persons of the Godhead (Unbegotten, eternally begotten, and procession). Gregory’s main contribution to the development of Christology was in his opposition to Apollinarius. He argued that when Adam fell, all of humanity fell in him; therefore, that fallen nature must be fully united to the Son—body, soul, and mind; ‘for the unassumed is the unhealed’.   Gregory’s Doctrine of the Trinity His clearest statement on the Trinity is found in his Oration 25.15–18. Oration 25 is part of a series of sermons delivered in 380. As a gesture of gratitude, Gregory dedicates Oration 25 to Christian philosopher Maximus the Cynic, as a sort of ‘charge’ for him to push forward and remain strong in the orthodox teachings of the faith. And these sections are that or

Isaiah 45:7 - “ . . . I make peace, and create evil.” — Does God create evil?

My daughter watched a video this morning where a deconstructionist, an ex vangelical, was attempting to profane the goodness of God, by pointing out that Isaiah 45:7 says God creates evil. She was referring to the KJV version of this passage which says, “I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.” So, what do we do with that? Below is a brief response. Proper biblical interpretation considers context when seeking the meaning of a passage. Furthermore, when it comes to difficult or obscure passages, a helpful rule of interpretation is to look to the plainer passages of the Bible and draw examples from them to shed light on the more obscure passages ( thanks Augustine ). We let Scripture interpret Scripture. The point is to remove all hesitation on doubtful passages. So, in this passage, on the face it seems to imply that God creates evil, thus making God evil. But is that what the Bible teaches about God? The plainer passages te

Clement of Alexandria: Nuances of the Classical God

Clement of Alexandria (c. 150–c. 215) was the head of the Catechetical School of Alexandria (c. 190), and the teacher of Origen. Concerned that Christianity is not seen as an unsophisticated religion, Clement sought to reconcile his faith with the best of Greek philosophy, specifically in the usefulness of Middle Platonism.[1] He believed that the kernels of truth found in Plato and Greek Philosophy were preparatory for the Gentiles in leading them to Christ, just as the Law was a guide or guardian for the Hebrews. Clement’s esoteric exegesis and speculative theology emphasized a higher knowledge, but this knowledge was obtained only through the Logos.

Ambrose: A Nicene Defense of Jesus Not Knowing the Day or the Hour ~ Mark 13:32

Ambrose (c. 339–397), was Bishop of Milan (northern Italy). His name is familiar to many because of Augustine, in that it was through Ambrose’s preaching that Augustine was saved by the gospel. Ambrose was a rigorous exponent of Nicene orthodoxy, and as with his other contemporaries, he was an ardent opponent against Arianism. His works, therefore, were aimed at refuting Arian heresy, paying special attention to the exposition and defense of the divinity of Christ and the Trinity. In his most prominent work, The Exposition of the Christian Faith (abbr. De fide ), Ambrose makes a lucid, scripturally saturated articulation of the Christian faith couched in Nicene orthodoxy. De fide is devoted to proving the full divinity of Christ, co-equal in substance, wisdom, power, and glory as God the Father, derived through elucidating the plain sense of the text. Ambrose’s aim is polemical and apologetic, addressing and refuting objections from the Arians. This post will ex

Origen: How is the Son the Invisible Image of the Invisible God?

Early Church Father Origen of Alexandria (c. 185–c. 254), considered the “greatest theological luminary of his age,” [1] his prolific writings amassed to some six thousand works. While his exegetical contribution to the formulation of Christian doctrine greatly shaped the theology of the fourth century, he is also a controversial fellow. Nevertheless, it is important that when we read such figures writing theology in the nascent stages of the Christian Faith, we must do our best to keep them in their context—to prevent hasty anathematizing. We have the privilege of 1900 years of theological development to stand on, passed on to us through toil, tears, and even death. Anyway...   I have been studying Origen’s writings, particularly his First Principles ( De Principiis) , and came across a wonderful insight that illuminated my thinking on Christ as the image of God. I am working on a doctrine of God course. Below is an excerpt from my lecture material. So, we are going to drop right i

“A New Heaven and New Earth” ~ A (Partial) Preterist Reading of Isaiah 65:17–25

When God says he will create a new heaven and a new earth, what will this new heaven and earth be like? Is it describing an obliteration of the material world, with a new material heaven and earth to follow? Early Church Father Jerome did not see a destruction of the elements; instead, he saw newness , a change into something better. Commenting on this passage, he writes, “The Apostle Paul said, ‘for the form of this world is perishing’ [1Co 7:31]. Notice that he said ‘form,’ not ‘substance.’”[1] Thomas Aquinas sees the new heavens and earth to be “the restoration of goods, for behold I create a new heavens , with new help from heaven, and a new earth , new benefits from the earth; this refers to the day of judgment, when the world will be renewed to the glory of the saints: the former things have passed away (Re 21:4).”[2] Closer to the immediate historical context, another understanding sees this as “a hyperbolic expression of the future restoration of the people of Judah after the