During our discussion in class, it dawned on me how much of the
historical arguments about Mary were not waged for her sake – nor out of a
desire to know more about the historical Mary as noted in class by Professor
Brown. Rather, all the arguments surrounding who Mary was and what exactly was
the nature of her relationship with Jesus came out of a larger Christological
debate. In Thursday’s class this became abundantly clear through Proclus’
homilies in praise of the Virgin and against Nestorianism. However, this was
also the case in early Christian writings against Ebionites and Gnostics – as
in the writings of Iraneus – or against Arianism – a previously condemned
heresy mentioned in passing by Nestorius in his letter to Cyril. In many ways,
it seems then as though for many of these early authors – particularly those
who became known as the orthodox thinkers – Mary was the first step to
understanding the nature of the person of Jesus.
Though some heterodox beliefs denied such basic tenants as the virgin
birth, the main controversy from Thursday’s class between Nestorius and others
such as Proclus and Cyril dealt with the finer distinctions of the relationship
between divinity and humanity in the person of Christ. Both Nestorius and his
opponents affirmed the virgin birth; however, I noticed that a striking
difference between their positions could be articulated in a simple question:
who was the true human-temple for God on earth? Was it Jesus or Mary?
I’m drawing this question from a passage in the letter of Nestorius to
Cyril where he claims “The body therefore is the temple of the deity of the Son, a
temple which is united to it in a high and divine conjunction, so that the
divine nature accepts what belongs to the body as its own. Such a confession is
noble and worthy of the gospel traditions.” Here Nestorius clearly articulates
his belief that it was the human man Jesus who was the temple – the physical
vessel – where God dwelt on earth. Against this claim, we have read many times
in early Marian authors elaborate temple metaphors regarding Mary. One such
example comes from Proclus’ first homily: “Through ears
that disobeyed, the serpent poured in his poison; through ears that obeyed, the
Word entered in order to build a living temple.” This divergence encapsulates
how Mary comes to play a role in a fundamentally Christological argument over
whether Christ was God and man conjoined or whether he was God and man hypostatically
as one.
This also explains the painstaking
lengths to which theologians such as Proclus went in order to prove absolute purity
and holiness of Mary. For, if one agrees with Nestorius, then Mary need only be
pure enough to bear the temple of God – which is an act that has already been accomplished
by other humans before her. The Holy of Holies in the original, physical temple
in Jerusalem was likewise said to be the dwelling place of god, but human hands
raised that building. Furthermore, the high priests, who were pure themselves
as manifested by the wearing of white, linen robes, were allowed to enter and
exit the Holy of Holies. Under the Nestorian understanding of Christ, Mary
needs only be as pure as these people were before her. However, Proclus and
other writers held and argued that she was pure beyond any other previous human
since by the Immaculate Conception she was born without the stain of original
sin so that she may be the temple herself. She was the Holy of Holies for
Christ, as both human and divine, while she carried him in her womb.
In contrast to the energy spent by
Proclus and others, Nestorius spends no time arguing the nature of Mary – other
than to say it would be inappropriate to call Mary the Theotokos. However, this
is grounded in his argument that only the human vessel for the Godhead was born
of Mary. It seems to me that, in this haste to repudiate the veneration of Mary,
which was developing in orthodox Christianity at the time, Nestorius in fact
misses perhaps a key proof. For, Proclus and others were able to argue that
there could be no other reason for Mary to be as pure as she appeared to be if she
were not the temple for the Godhead. Nestorius presents no counterargument
apparent in the readings to the Eve-Mary or Temple-Mary comparisons drawn by
Proclus. Furthermore, if one finds the line of reasoning presented by Barker in
her article persuasive, then Nestorius also seems to be ignoring an important
strain in the tradition.
Through her article, Barker establishes that prior to the Deuteronomic
reforms there was a long tradition of the female characterization of the Queen
Mother and wisdom – made most explicit on pages 101-102
Some
of Philo’s Wisdom imagery has no obvious root in the Greek scriptures. He knew
of a divine couple who were parents of the king, that God was the husband of Wisdom,
that the Logos was the son of Wisdom of his mother, through whom (fem.) the
universe came into being. Wisdom was the ‘first born mother of all things’.
Philo must have known the older cult – that Wisdom was the mother of Yahweh the
King.
Between Barker’s article and the sheer number of old testament
allusions drawn to Mary, it seems there can be little doubt that the early
triumphs of the Marian supporters can be attributed at least in part to their
hearkening back to the older tradition whereas Nestorius seems to have
completely ignored such a tradition. It is an old maxim taught in debating that
any point not contested is conceded; in a nutshell, and Nestorius appears to
have done just that. On Christological grounds, Proclus and Nestorius seem to
be on even footing. Many people in our discussion on Thursday pointed out that
both sides appeared to ground their arguments equally well in the scripture.
Therefore, the difference was that one side also fielded Mariological
arguments.
Perhaps he had not done so, perhaps if Nestorius had tied himself to
the reforming tradition of Josiah –not alienating most of the important players
in the Eastern Mediterranean could also have helped – then perhaps it would
have been Nestorianist theology that prevailed to today.
You had me until your conclusion! I like very much the distinction you draw between Nestorius and Cyril: that Nestorius emphasized Jesus's own body as the "temple," while Cyril and Proclus emphasized Mary as the temple for the God-man. But if Nestorius had conceded that Mary was the temple, surely he would have had to adopt Cyril and Proclus's position--or am I missing something? The larger point you make is the one I was trying to get us to: there were deep roots for both positions in the ancient tradition, which is what made the argument between the two so very bitter. RLFB
ReplyDeleteA consequence that might arise from the Nestorian view of Mary might also be that if what Mary did has been accomplished by others prior, might it not occur again? Does this entail that there could be another Christ? It's obvious why this implication would deeply worry the party of Cyril and Proclus.
ReplyDeleteIt's an interesting point to note that Nestorius's failure might ultimately have been a rhetorical one. He simply left the key arguments of his opponents unaddressed, unchallenged, and thus they "won", undermining all his other points. Agreeing with Prof. Brown that if Nestorius had conceded on this point it would have required him to adopt Cyril's position, I wonder how Nestorius could have responded, could he have explicitly rejected the tradition that Barker suggests the orthodox party are drawing on? What shape would this take, and what might its consequences be? Perhaps there's something beyond just appealing to a tradition, an innate appeal to what that tradition teaches, or maybe a sense that it resonated more clearly with the broader emerging Christian identity, that helped Nestorius's opponents gain traction.