CHAPTER XXIII.
SURVEY OF CHRYSOSTOM’S THEOLOGICAL TEACHING—PRACTICAL TONE OF HIS WORKS—REASON OF THIS—DOCTRINE OF MAN’S NATURE—ORIGINAL SIN—GRACE—FREE-WILL—HOW FAR CHRYSOSTOM PELAGIAN—LANGUAGE ON THE TRINITY—ATONEMENT—JUSTIFICATION—THE TWO SACRAMENTS—NO TRACE OF CONFESSION, PURGATORY, OR MARIOLATRY—RELATIONS TOWARDS THE POPE—LITURGY OF CHRYSOSTOM—HIS CHARACTER AS A COMMENTATOR—VIEWS ON INSPIRATION—HIS PREACHING—PERSONAL APPEARANCE—REFERENCES TO GREEK CLASSICAL AUTHORS—COMPARISON WITH ST. AUGUSTINE.
The main characteristics of Chrysostom as a theologian and interpreter of Scripture, as well as a pastor and preacher, have, it is hoped, been already indicated in the course of the preceding narrative; but it may be desirable to supplement, by a fuller and more methodical survey, notices which were necessarily sometimes brief and incidental in the biographical chapters.[667]
Some evidence, therefore, of his theological teaching and method of interpretation will first of all be collected from his writings, and arranged under different heads. Two difficulties in the way of executing this task faithfully should be borne in mind: first, the voluminous bulk of Chrysostom’s works (as Suidas observed, that it belonged to God rather than man to know them all), which renders a successful search for the selection of what are really the most telling passages in illustration of each point far from easy; secondly, that Chrysostom, being a preacher rather than a writer, was of course liable to slip into inexact or exaggerated language, under the influence of excitement, or a desire to make an impression on the feelings of his hearers. An attentive perusal, however, of his writings leads the reader to the conclusion that he was very seldom carried away by the impulse of the moment into merely vague or rhetorical expressions, and that he was especially preserved from this failing by his habit of combining the expository with the practical and hortatory line of preaching. His discourses are careful commentaries as well as practical addresses. Week after week it was his custom to go through some book of Holy Scripture, verse by verse, clause by clause, almost word by word; endeavouring with all diligence and patience to ascertain the exact meaning of the passage before him, to place it clearly before his audience, and to base his practical exhortation upon it.
The remark has been so often repeated, as to have become almost a truism, that the theology of the East is distinguished from the theology of the West by its more speculative, metaphysical character. It deals more especially with the most profound and abstract mysteries—the being and nature of the Godhead, of angels, of the whole spiritual realm. It might, therefore, occasion some surprise to find the homilies of Chrysostom marked by such an eminently practical tone. But the apparent contradiction is easily explained. It is precisely because Greek philosophy and theology were chiefly concerned with the most abstract questions, that the Greek preacher, speaking on matters not abstract, but practical, relating to moral conduct, is especially free in his language from philosophical or technical terms. On the other hand, in the Western Church exactly the reverse occurs. The best intellectual powers of the Roman having been mainly exercised on jurisprudence, the mind of Roman theologians naturally turned most powerfully towards practical questions which had most affinity to that science with which they were chiefly conversant—such as the relation of man to God, the nature of sin, the means of discharging the debt owed by man, the problem of the free-will of man, and providence of God. Western theology is coloured by the language of Roman law, as Eastern theology is coloured by the language of Greek philosophy. “Merit,” “satisfaction,” “decrees,” “forensic justification,” “imputed righteousness,” are terms which do not occur in the writings of the Greek theologian, because they are the expressions of ideas in which he felt no interest. They are the offspring of the Roman mind, in which legal ideas were dominant. Hence the Western theologian is most technical and scientific in the region of practical questions; the Greek, on the other hand, is more entirely free from the influence of philosophy in that region than in any other.
In accordance with this distinction, we find that Chrysostom, in treating of those practical questions with which, as a preacher and pastor, he was mainly concerned—the nature and the work of Jesus Christ, providence, grace, the nature of man, sin, faith, repentance, good works, and the like—casts his thoughts into the most free, natural, untechnical, and therefore forcible language possible.
To consider first of all his exposition of man’s nature. The majority of the Oriental fathers made a triple division, into body, soul, and spirit—the soul (ψυχή) being equivalent to the animal life, the spirit (πνεῦμα or ψυχὴ λογική) to the reason. Chrysostom makes a twofold division only, into body and soul, and reserves the word “spirit” to designate the Holy Spirit.[668] Man, when first created, came like a pure golden statue fresh out of the artist’s hands, destined, if he had not fallen, to enjoy a yet higher and nobler dignity than he then possessed.[669] His being made “in the image of God” Chrysostom interprets to signify that dominance over the lower animals which God Himself exercises over the whole creation, and the peculiar superiority of man’s nature to theirs consists in his reasoning power, as well as in his endowment with the gift of immortality.[670] Man fell through his own weakness and indolent negligence (ῥᾳθυμία), and then became deprived of that immortality and divine wisdom with which he had been previously gifted; but his nature was not essentially changed, it was only weakened.[671] Evil is not an integral part of man; it is not an inherent substantial force (δύναμις ἐνυπόστατος):[672] it is the moral purpose (προαίρεσις) which is perverted when men sin. If evil was a part of our nature, it would be no more reprehensible than natural appetites and affections. If man’s will was not unfettered, there would be no merit in goodness and no blame in evil. There is no constraint either to holiness or to sin; neither does God compel to the one, nor do the fleshly appetites compel to the other.[673] The body was not, as the Manichæans erroneously maintained, the seat of sin; it was the creation of God equally with the soul; the whole burden, therefore, of responsibility in sin must be thrown on the “moral purpose.” Here was the root of all evil; the conception of necessity and immutability is bound up with the idea of nature. We do not try to alter that which is by nature (φύσει): sin therefore is not by nature, because by means of education, laws, and punishments we do seek to alter that.[674] Sin is through the moral purpose which is susceptible of change, and till the moral purpose has come into activity sin cannot properly be said to exist: infants, therefore, and very young children, are free from sin.[675] Our first parents fell through moral negligence (ῥᾳθυμία); and this is the principal cause of sin now. They marked out a path which has been trodden ever since; they yielded to appetite, and the force of the will has been weakened thereby in all their posterity, who have become subject to the punishment of death; so that though sin is not a part of man’s nature, yet his nature is readily inclined to evil (ὀξυῤῥεπὴς πρὸς κακίαν): but this tendency will be controlled by the moral purpose if that is in a healthy condition.[676]
Chrysostom would thus readily allow the expressions “hereditary tendency to sin,” “hereditary liability to the punishment of death,” but he shrinks from the expression “hereditary sin.” His anxiety to insist on the complete freedom of the human will was very natural in the earnest Christian preacher of holiness, who lived in an age when men were frequently encountered who, in the midst of wickedness, complained that they were abandoned to the dominion of devils or to the irresistible course of fate. They transferred all guilt from themselves to the powers of evil, all responsibility to the Creator Himself, who had withdrawn from them, as they maintained, the protection of His good providence. To counteract the disastrous effects of such philosophy, which surrendered the will to the current of the passions, like an unballasted ship cast adrift before the storm, it was indeed necessary to maintain very resolutely and boldly the essential freedom of the will, to insist on man’s moral responsibility, and the duty of vigilant, strenuous exertion. Chrysostom frequently exposes the absurdity as well as the moral evil of a doctrine of necessity. If human actions are necessary and preordained results of circumstances, then teaching and government become mere pieces of acting, destitute of any practical influence; they are also unjust, since you have no right to punish a person who has acted under compulsion. Such a theory ought, also, logically to paralyse human industry. If a plentiful harvest is predetermined by the decrees of fate, you may spare yourself the trouble of ploughing, sowing, and other laborious operations; or, if Clotho has turned her distaff in the other direction, all your exertions will fail to produce an abundant crop. Such a doctrine is repugnant to our natural sense, and contradicts our own consciousness and inward experience. We feel that we are free, and all human action proceeds on the principle of supposing man to be free. We teach and we punish. The plea of necessity would be rejected in a court of law as an impudent and futile excuse for crime. Such a theory is utterly at variance also with God’s mode of addressing man, which always implies freedom of volition; as, for instance, “If ye will hearken unto me, ye shall eat the fat of the land; but if ye will not hearken, the sword shall devour you.”[677]
Profoundly convinced, therefore, of a universal tendency to sin on the one hand, but of an essential freedom of the will on the other, Chrysostom sounds alternately the note of warning and of encouragement—warning against that weakness, indolence, languor of the moral purpose which occasions a fall; encouragement to the full use of those powers with which all men are gifted, and to avoid that despondency which will prevent a man from rising again when he has fallen. St. Paul repented, and, not despairing, became equal to angels; Judas repenting, but despairing, was hurried into self-inflicted death. Despair was the devil’s most powerful instrument for working the destruction of man.[678] Chrysostom therefore earnestly combated any view of Christian life which daunted and discouraged man’s efforts, by winding them too high, or placing before them an unattainable standard. Men sometimes said we cannot be like St. Peter and St. Paul, because we are not gifted with their miraculous power. But, he replies, you may emulate their Christian graces: these are within the reach of all, and these are, by our Lord’s own declaration, the most important. “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another;” the moral works of the Apostles, works of love, mercy, and faith, were far more instrumental in the conversion of the world than their merely miraculous powers.[679]
Urgently, however, as Chrysostom, in his desire to stimulate exertion and strengthen the moral life, insists on the absolute freedom of the will, he maintains no less clearly the insufficiency of man’s nature to accomplish good without the Divine assistance. No one has described in more forcible language the powerful hold of sin upon human nature. Sin is like a terrible pit, containing fierce monsters, and full of darkness.[680] It is more terrible than a demon,[681] it is a great demon;[682] it is like fire; when once it has got a hold on the thoughts of the heart, if it is not quenched it spreads further and further, and becomes increasingly difficult to subdue;[683] it is a heavy burden, more oppressive than lead.[684] Christ saw us lying cast away upon the ground, perishing under the tyranny of sin, and He took compassion on us.[685] In the infant weakness and liability to sin are inherent, though not sin itself. The moral nature of the infant is like a plant, which will grow healthily by a process of natural development, unless exposed to injurious influences; but it requires the protection of grace, “therefore we baptize infants to impart holiness and goodness, as well as to establish a relationship with God.” This passage is quoted by St. Augustine in his earnest vindication of Chrysostom from Pelagianism.[686] But the passages on which Augustine mainly depends to prove Chrysostom’s adherence to the tenet of original sin are in his exposition of Romans v. 12-14:—“Death reigned from Adam to Moses. How reigned? In likeness of the transgression of Adam, who is a figure of One to come. How a figure? Because, as he became a cause of death to those who were born from him, although they had not eaten of the tree, even so Christ has become to His posterity the procurer of righteousness, though they have not done righteousness, which He has bestowed upon us all through His cross.” Augustine quotes also his observation on Christ’s tears over the grave of Lazarus:—“He wept to think that men, who were capable of immortality, had been made mortal by the devil;” and his remarks on Genesis i. 28, about the subjection of the lower animals to man: “that man’s present dread of wild beasts was entirely owing to the Fall, and had not existed previous to that: it was inherited by all Adam’s posterity, because they inherited his degradation through the Fall.” All these passages, however, do not amount to more than the doctrine of a universally inherited tendency to sin, and therefore liability to its punishment, death. In his interpretation of the passage, “the free gift is of many offences unto justification,” this last word is plainly taken by him in the sense of making man righteous, not accounting him as such.[687]