“D’une syllabe impie un saint mot augmenté
Remplit tous les esprits d’aigreurs si meurtrières—
Tu fis, dans une guerre et si triste et si longue,
Périr tant de Chrétiens, martyrs d’une diphthongue!”
The determination of the controversy depended on the retention or rejection of the diphthong oi, or rather upon the change of the letter o into i; and hence it has been asserted that for centuries Christians fought like tigers, and tore each other to pieces, on account of a single letter. It must be admitted, however, that the dispute, though it related to a mystery above human comprehension, was something more than a verbal one; and though it is easy to ridicule “microscopic theology,” yet it is evident that if error employs it, truth must do the same, even if the distinction be as small as the difference between two animalcules fighting each other among a billion of fellows in a drop of water.
Another famous theological controversy was that concerning the doctrine of the Double Procession, which, though mainly a verbal dispute, tore asunder the Eastern and Western Churches, gave the chief occasion for the anathemas of the Athanasian creed, precipitated the fall of the Empire of Constantinople, and, it has been asserted, sowed the original seed of the present perplexing Eastern Question.
To how many discussions has that ambiguous phrase, “the Church,” given rise! It has been shown that in all countries where there is a religious establishment supported by law, this phrase may have six different meanings. A Romanist understands by “the Church” his own communion, with the hierarchy and papal head; a Protestant includes within “the Church” all sincere and devout Christians of every denomination. A Romanist, again, understands “priest” to refer to a sacrificial priesthood; a Presbyterian regards it as derived from “presbyter,” and to mean simply “elder.”
Disraeli remarks, in his “Curiosities of Literature,” that there have been few councils or synods where the addition or omission of a word or a phrase might not have terminated an interminable logomachy. “At the Council of Basle, for the convenience of the disputants, John de Secubia drew up a treatise of undeclined words, chiefly to determine the significations of the particles from, by, but, and except, which, it seems, were perpetually occasioning fresh disputes among the Hussites and Bohemians.... In modern times the popes have more skilfully freed the church from the ‘confusion of words.’ His holiness on one occasion, standing in equal terror of the Court of France, who protected the Jesuits, and of the Court of Spain, who maintained the cause of the Dominicans, contrived a phrase, where a comma or a full stop, placed at the beginning or the end, purported that his holiness tolerated the opinions which he condemned; and when the rival parties dispatched deputations to the Court of Rome to plead for the period, or advocate the comma, his holiness, in this ‘confusion of words,’ flung an unpunctuated copy to the parties; nor was it his fault, but that of the spirit of party, if the rage of the one could not subside into a comma, nor that of the other close by a full period!”
It has been truly said by a Scotch divine that the vehemence of theological controversy has been generally proportional to the emptiness of the party phrases used. It is probable that in nine cases out of ten accurate definitions of the chief terms in dispute would have made the most celebrated controversies impossible. It is stated by the biographer of Dr. Chalmers that that eminent divine and Dr. Stuart met one day in Edinburgh, and engaged in a long and eager conversation on saving grace. Street after street was paced, and argument after argument was vigorously plied. At last, his time or his patience exhausted, Chalmers broke off the interview; but, as at parting he shook his opponent by the hand, he said: “If you wish to see my views stated clearly and distinctly, read a tract called ‘Hindrances to Believing the Gospel.’” “Why,” exclaimed Stuart, “that’s the very tract I published myself!”