Have you ever wondered what it is like to become a Theology Master? As I work toward my MA in Theology, I will share insights, stories, ideas, and strange happenings.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Ordination as a Metamorphosis


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.
-Therefore the Son must not share the same substance (ousia) as the Father.


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.
[3] Homoousion comes from “homo-the same” and “ousia-substance.”  
[4] John Zizioulas, Catherine Mowery LaCugna

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