Prodigal Brother I

Energies. Essence. Operations. Pure act. Passive potencies. Divine simplicity.

These are just a few of the terms that were regularly thrown around in the latest heavyweight debate between Orthodoxy and Catholicism, with Jay Dyer and Tim Gordon representing the two sides.

Both experts in their fields, the debate became highly technical very quickly; so much so, that most of the content likely went right over the heads of much of the audience.

Although the debate became more digestible towards the end as they discussed the legitimacy of the papacy, the first two topics of divine simplicity and the Filioque would likely have most Christians scratching their heads.

These debates are vastly different from Catholic-Protestant debates, as the concepts of sola scriptura, sola fide, veneration of saints, and the rest of the typical topics are much simpler and easier to follow.

The papacy and Filioque are typically the two main topics of Catholic-Orthodoxy debate, so it was interesting to see divine simplicity included as well.

From a bird’s eye view, both sides agree about divine simplicity—the idea that God is utterly simple and is not composed of parts, since that would imply the necessity of a composer. This composer would necessarily be greater than God, which is obviously impossible.

The other key component of divine simplicity is that God does not have attributes in the same way we do, but rather the attributes are identical with His essence. For example, God is not loving but rather is love; God does not exist alongside creation but rather is being / existence itself.

These attributes are not parts of God but rather different ways we experience His one essence. This is why He can be the Alpha and Omega because, again, if God has parts, then He could not be the uncaused cause.

Despite agreeing that God is utterly simple, the two sides diverge on the specifications around this idea.

The Orthodox Church affirms divine simplicity but with an interesting twist; they believe that there is a distinction between God’s essence and energies, as the essence is the eternal and inseparable Trinity, while the energies are God’s operations and presence in the world. Most importantly, these energies are uncreated and fully divine.

Even more interestingly, the Orthodox Church doesn’t believe that we will ever encounter God’s essence in heaven through the beatific vision like Catholics believe but rather only participate in His energies.

Catholics argue that the essence-energies distinction not only contradicts divine simplicity given that this seemingly points to God having “parts” but also can be easily interpreted as polytheism. The question becomes the following: if God’s energies are uncreated and therefore divine yet distinct from God’s essence, does that not point to separate “gods?”

The Orthodox’s reply is that these are not parts of God but rather two modes of one simple God. More specifically, they are not separate substances of God but rather God Himself in action. In the same way the sun and its rays are distinct but not separate, God’s energies flow from His essence to us here on Earth and enables us to participate in the divine life.

And the debate goes on and on.

I know what you’re thinking: this all seems very complicated and how exactly did we get here?

To answer that question, we must rewind.

After Constantine’s conversion to Christianity and his Edict of Milan in 313 AD that decriminalized Christianity, the religion began to quickly spread and soon overhauled Rome’s pagan religion. Towards the end of the century, Theodosius I divided the empire into a western and eastern region, leaving the two halves to each of his sons.

Over time, the two sides of the empire grew increasingly distinct: the East spoke Greek and established Constantinople as its hub, while the West stuck to its Latin roots with Rome as the center.

However, as the western empire crumbled under the pressure from barbaric groups, dependence on the East grew, even in ecclesiastical matters. In fact, between the 5th and the 8th centuries, the Byzantine emperor—though not directly influencing the election—typically granted the final approval to the newly elected Pope. During this time period, this was not problematic, as the emperor never expressed dismay for whoever was chosen.

But the East–West relations soured when Pope Leo III famously crowned Charlemagne emperor of the Holy Roman Empire in 800 AD. Though it may have seemed innocent enough on the surface, the act was momentous for the East. It not only filled the political vacuum in the West that had persisted since Rome’s fall in the 5th century, but also signaled a formal separation between the two halves of Christendom, as the West now claimed political authority independently of the East.

Just before Charlemagne’s coronation, another controversy occurred.

Up until this point, the Christian practice of venerating icons of Christ, Mary, and the saints was commonplace and undisputed. However, the Byzantine emperor (not Pope) Leo III interestingly proclaimed that icon veneration was idolatry and must cease within the empire immediately.

Many speculate that he was influenced by the Muslim forces that had seized previously Byzantine lands like Syria, Egypt, and North Africa, and had recently laid siege to Constantinople. Muslims notoriously condemned producing images of God and rarely created any sort of religious imagery.

Unsurprisingly, Pope Gregory II upheld the veneration of icons, creating sharp tension with the emperor. The wave of icon destruction in the East—known as iconoclasm—was formally denounced in the seventh ecumenical council in 787 AD, famously hailed as the last ecumenical council between the east and west.

In addition to these tension-fueling events, there was also a natural difference in disciplines that emerged given the cultural barrier between the two sides.

The West over time had developed the tradition of priestly celibacy, using the idea that the priesthood meant a total dedication to the Church and imitation of Christ’s celibacy. Interestingly enough, although many priests during the apostolic and Patristic age were married, they were expected to refrain from marital relations once ordained. Conversely, in the East, married men were allowed to be ordained, despite bishops needing to be celibate.

Also, the use of leavened bread in the East and unleavened bread in the West separated the two as well. The Orthodox Church uses leavened bread as a symbol for the resurrection, as the bread rising due to yeast symbolizes Christ rising from the dead. On the other hand, the West maintains the continuity with the Last Supper, as Christ used unleavened bread while with His apostles. Additionally, the unmixed bread is used to symbolize the purity and sinlessness of the spotless Lamb.

In addition to these differing practices, the East and West both have differing philosophical foundations, leading to unique theological emphases.

The West was heavily influenced by Aristotle as well as Roman legal culture, which led to a more systematic approach to theology. Aristotelian thought is grounded in empiricism and concrete particulars with clear categories, distinctions, and definitions. Because of this, God was described in terms of justice and order, and salvation was described in terms of guilt and justification. Important figures like St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas used this framework to develop much of Western doctrine.

Eastern thinkers like St. Athanasius, Gregory Palamas, and the Cappadocians mainly drew from Plato, emphasizing the mystery of God, divine transcendence, and salvation as participation in the divine life, known as theosis. Rather than seeing sin as guilt and salvation as justification of said guilt, the East views sin as corruption and salvation as the undoing of this corruption through theosis.

With all of these differences in mind, let’s look at the three main events that had the largest impacts on the 11th century schism.

First, after the second ecumenical council at Constantinople in 381 AD, the Nicene Creed was formulated and is still said in both Catholic and Orthodox liturgies today. The only difference between the two is that the Orthodox Church proclaims that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father while Catholics say He proceeds from the Father and the Son. This addition of “and the son,” translating to filioque in Latin, is still seen as problematic to the East until today.

In the East’s fairness, the creed from the 4th century does indeed exclude the filioque.

However, the West began to add the filioque mainly to counter the Arian heresy, which had not completely died out yet. Because Arians denied the Son’s divinity, emphasizing that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son pointed to the idea that the Son shares equally in the Father’s divine essence and all that the Father has the Son has also.

Also, it had been commonplace in Latin theology, starting with St. Augustine, to describe the Holy Spirit as the love shared between the Father and the Son.

Despite the Orthodox Church disagreeing with this addition on theological grounds, the main disagreement was on procedural grounds. To them, the idea of altering the creed without an ecumenical council was extremely problematic. To the west, since Pope Leo III had already accepted the filioque as sound theology, calling an ecumenical council wasn’t a necessity.

Thus, it became less about the change itself and more about how the change was implemented.

The second event was the appointment of Photios as patriarch of Constantinople. In the middle of the 9th century, controversy broke out in the East when Ignatios, the patriarch of Constantinople, refused to give communion to Emperor Michael III’s uncle due to scandalous behavior. Because of this, the emperor deposed him and instead elevated Photios—a layman—to the position.

Pope Nicholas I refused to recognize the new patriarch and upheld that only Rome had the authority to approve such a deposition. Soon after, the two exchanged excommunications, bringing the tensions to an all-time high.

It wasn’t long before Ignatios was reinstated after a new emperor was crowned, but a new precedent of mutual excommunications had been set.

More importantly, after Photios was prevented from obtaining what he thought was rightly his, he turned his wrath towards the West.

Previous to Photios, not much attention was given to the West’s addition of the filioque, as many simply saw it as one of a few differences between the East and the West.

However, Photios began to publish works on why the filioque was not just a cultural difference but a grave theological error. His work Mystagogy of the Holy Spirit became the gold standard for refutations of the filioque.

Not only that, but he began to directly resist Rome’s authority, as the East had for a long time recognized Rome’s special “primacy of honor” and their role as the “court of last resort,” meaning they had the last say in theological disputes.

Rome’s unique authority—obviously stemming from St. Peter—had been widely affirmed by not only Western Church Fathers but Eastern ones like John Chrysostom and Maximus the Confessor as well:

Despite this, the growing consensus in the East was that the papacy had usurped authority it did not rightfully own and something needed to be done.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was Patriarch Michael Celarus closing Latin Churches in Constantinople that were using unleavened bread to celebrate the Eucharist.

After Pope Leo IX caught wind of this, he sent his right-hand man Cardinal Humbert of Siena to negotiate with the patriarch.

After being forced to wait a few weeks in Constantinople before meeting with him, Cardinal Humbert was already in a bad mood by the time the meeting commenced. Right away, things escalated and it was clear a resolution was not going to be reached.

The confrontation got so bad that Humbert excommunicated Michael Celarius with Celarius doing the same to him.

Technically speaking, this was simply an excommunication of individuals and not Churches. But nonetheless, this sparked the divide that exists until this day.

Interestingly enough, although the general population was aware of the excommunications, people didn’t see it as a permanent divide at the time.

But soon, another event would deepen the divide and sow a level of mutual distrust not seen before.

To be continued…

If you enjoyed this article, feel free to share with your family, co-workers, and friends and tell them to subscribe.

Thanks for reading and until next time.

Headlines