Metamorphosis
Grasshoppers do it. Fish do it. Frogs, toads, and newts do
it. A newt?
Do you suppose your pastor has done it?[1] I would suggest you may have done it!
“So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation:
everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (1Corinthians
5:17)
Paul seems to imply that when someone is in Christ, she
becomes something different. He even
calls it a new creation! This is what I’m
talking about here: a change in being! In
philosophy, when we want to talk about being
we will talk about ontology. Therefore
to talk about someone having a change in being is to talk about an “ontological
change.”
Some folks, at least the Orthodox and Catholics, insist that
their priests experience a change in being when they are anointed. Before ordination the priest is simply a
Christian. After ordination the priest
becomes someone entirely different, a Christian Priest. This is very clear in the Western idea of
Sacramental Character. We say that
baptism, confirmation, and ordination give an irremovable sacramental
character. What this means is that a
person’s soul is marked out as belonging to Christ in a unique way. This “seal” placed on a person cannot be
removed. The good news? You can never become unbaptized (or
rebaptized for that matter). In the case
of a priest, a priest is always a priest.
Even when removed from ministry for disciplinary reasons, the person has
an indelible sacramental seal that makes his being forever a priest.
This idea of sacramental character is beautiful to some, and
farfetched and repugnant to others. In
light of this, I have recently finished a paper entitled “Sacramental Character
as Being-In-Relation in a Postmodern Context.”
In this paper, I try to talk about sacramental character in a way that
is beautiful, accessible, and hopefully not repugnant to most. I’ll post the full text soon. For now, let’s unpack the first step, “Being-in-Relation.”
Remember the days when reciting the Nicene Creed flowed like
this, “true God, from true God. Begotten not made, one in being with the Father?” Those were the days before we started
tripping over the word, “consubstantial.”
Three years later I still hear murmuring, “Consubstratumalilistic with
the Father” mixed with “one in being-tial with the Father.” What’s with the major theology word interrupting
the liturgy?
Believe it or not, this is quite significant for our
topic. Notice that instead of
consubstantial we used to say, “One in being.”
You may get the impression that the two words are the same. But they aren’t! And this is vitally important!
You see there was a guy named Arius in the fourth century
who said, “Hey, If the Son is begotten of the Father, doesn’t that mean that he
was created by the Father? And if he was
created by the Father, doesn’t that mean that there was a time when he didn’t
exist?” As you can imagine, the Council
of Nicaea was not a fan of this idea.[2] The Council formulated a creed that was
absolutely opposed to Arius’ position.
It said that Christ is eternally begotten of the Father, “God from God,
Light from Light. True God from True God. Begotten not made. ὁμοούσιον with
the Father.” The Creed says that the Son
is “homoousion”[3] or
“Of the same substance” or “consubstantial” with the Father. Basically, “whatever Divine stuff (ousia, or
substance) the Father is, the Son is also that same Divine stuff (ousia, or
substance). God’s existence was starting
to be defined by what God is. In other
words, God’s being was starting to be
defined by God’s substance. You still with me? Good.
You'll have to read footnote #2 for the context of this picture. |
The old translation of the creed, “one in being” implies
that being is the same as substance
(ousia). But as we will see, this is not
the case. Let’s move on.
Because the council was a little vague about its use of
these Greek words, a wise cracker named Eunominus came up with a new
argument. It went something like this:
-The Father has no origin right? The Father is “Ungenerate” (is not generated
from anyone or anything)
-If the Father is Ungenerate then the Divine substance (ousia)
must also be ungenerate.
-The Son was begotten of the Father right?
-If the Son is begotten then the Son must have an origin
somewhere.
-If the Son is generated, then the Son is not Ungenerate.
God’s existence was rooted in God’s substance. Because the Son did not share the same substance
as the Father, the Son must not exist as God.
The three people who directly debated Eunominus were Basil,
Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory Nazianzus, the Cappadocian Fathers. First they argued that Eunominus was arrogant. Who can speak about God’s divine
substance? God’s substance or ousia, is
so shrouded in light unfathomable that we cannot say what God is. Gregory of Nazianzus said that the substance
of God is hidden “beyond your feeble senses.”
For Eunominus to say that God’s substance was ungenerate was seen as
arrogance in apprehending pure mystery.
So the Cappadocians insisted that we can say nothing about God’s
substance. All that we know about God is
how He relates.
God relates to us through salvation history and God relates to Himself through the divine persons or “hypostasis.” As for Eunominus’ argument, they said:
-The quality of “ungenerate” does not belong to the divine
substance (ousia) but rather to the person of the Father.
-Therefore, the begotteness of the Son does not effect His
sharing in the divine ousia.
The Cappadocian’s marked a significant shift in ontology: Being
was rooted not in substance, but in person.
What do we know about God’s being?
We know little about God’s substance. We know about God’s personhood. The term personhood for the Cappadocian’s
included relationships. What this means
is that the Father cannot be Father without the Son. The Son cannot be Son without the
Father. The Holy Spirit cannot proceed
without the Father, and the Father cannot give procession with the Holy
Spirit. In the Trinity, there is no personhood without relationship. There is no being without relationship.
Edward Hahnenberg and others[4]
apply this ontology to the human person.
What can we say about my being?
According to the Cappadocian understanding of the Trinity, being is
rooted in personhood. We can speak about
my personhood; how I relate.
My brother, who is a father of three, spoke with me about
becoming a father. He told me that
before their first, he and his wife (my sister) had carefully constructed their
life together. It was like a town built
by the sea. With the first baby, a
typhoon came and completely washed away the lifestyle they had known. It was very abrupt. But aside from his radically new function (he
now had to feed, change, and nap a living thing, and sleep a lot less) he did
not feel like a father. My brother
became a father slowly as he began to interact with his son. His being
didn’t change immediately as the typhoon changed his lifestyle. His being
changed as he related to his family.
This is what I mean by being-in-relation. According to the Cappadocian understanding of
being inspired by the Trinity, being does not have to be rooted in my substance—what
I am. Being is rooted in my personhood—how
I am—how I relate.
Next time we will tackle the question, “How can we
understand the sacramental character as a change in being, when being is rooted
in personhood?” If sacramental character
is outside of your tradition/interests, consider how the change in being of
becoming a Christian is a change in being-in-relation.
[1] Ok
technically metamorphosis isn’t the most precise word. Metamorphosis implies a
change in form, (Meta-change.
Morphe-form) and as far as I know, Sacred Chrism has never turned a
person into a newt or otherwise. What I
mean to be talking about is “metaontasis” (onta-to be). If someone else knows of the real word for
this, let me know because I just made that up.
I’m trying to talk about a change in being.
[2]
This is the understatement of the new Church year (started in Advent). In fact, to highlight how intense the real
St. Nicholas was, I will tell you this story:
When Eusebius tried to defend Arius’ position at the Council, many of
the bishops stood up and shouted, “You lie! Blasphemy!” His speech was torn in two and some say that
St. Nicholas was so worked up that he punched Eusebius in the face. Jolly
Ol’ St. Nick? Get out of here with that smug,
artificial, a-historical character. The
real St. Nicholas was a defender of Christ’s eternal existence, and the
defender of the poor, and women who were to be sold into slavery/marriage. WAAAAY more inspiring than Santa Claus.
[4]
John Zizioulas, Catherine Mowery LaCugna
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