Antioch 268: A Forgotten Orthodoxy of the Third Century

The winter of 268–269 was cruel for the Christian community of Antioch. More than fifty bishops of the main Eastern cities of the Roman Empire arrived in their town to examine certain allegedly wrong doctrines and behaviors of the bishop of Antioch, Paul of Samosata.Footnote ¹ Malchion, a Christian priest and the head of a sophist school in town, was assigned as the theologian who would interview and publicly debate the bishop. As the chronics attest, the bishop lost this public confrontation and the synod deposed him.Footnote ² In the last act of their meeting, the synodals composed a Synodical Letter, which remains partially preserved to this day by Eusebius of Caesarea, and sent it to “the whole catholic Church under heaven,” especially to the two significant absent bishops, Dionysius of Alexandria and Maximus of Rome.Footnote ³ Furthermore, six of the synodals addressed an epistle to Paul of Samosata himself in order to express their theological position, a document known as the Letter of Six Bishops.Footnote ⁴ As Henri de Riedmatten argues, the documents of the council were collected in a special dossier that circulated in its authentic version until the sixth century.Footnote ⁵ Consequently, it is very plausible that such fourth-century authors like Eusebius of Caesarea, Athanasius, the Homoiousians, the Cappadocians, and many of their contemporaries had access to its authentic form.

I will argue in the present study that the synod of Antioch 268 made official a metaphysico-theological position conveyed in the third century in the Eastern part of the Roman Empire. Distinct from the Nicene paradigm, this metaphysical vision apparently represented a largely accepted, “orthodox,” position in the third-century Eastern world.Footnote ⁶ However, as a paradox of history, in the fourth century, it was associated with the anti-Nicene circles or alliances, traditionally called “Arian” or “semi-Arian.” I will argue that Antioch 268, treated as orthodox by all parties involved in the fourth-century controversies, exerted considerable influence at that time, at least in the Eastern part of the Christian world, and mostly within the anti-Nicene circles or alliances. More precisely, Antioch 268 implied a metaphysico-theological paradigm which was further assumed in such key “Arian” councils as Antioch 341 and 345, and Sirmium 351. Consequently, I will uphold the thesis that the theology defended by these councils as well as by such authors as Eusebius of Caesarea (who actually supported the Nicene Council) and the Homoiousians is better understood through the lens of Antioch 268 rather than the traditional polarization between Nicaea and Arianism.

A key reference to the metaphysical assumptions of Antioch 268 is preserved in an authentic letter composed by George of Laodicea, in which he states that the fathers of Antioch understood οὐσία (substance) and ὑπόστασις (hypostasis) as denoting the individual substance. Moreover, they rejected the ὁμοούσιον (consubstantial) of Paul of Samosata, because this notion would have led to Sabellianism. It is significant for our discussion that the authenticity of George of Laodicea's report was not denied by such major pro-Nicene authors as Athanasius (On the Synods 43 and 45), Basil of Caesarea (Epistle 52.1), and Hilary of Poitier (On the Councils 81) at the moment when some anti-Nicene writers argued against the Nicene ὁμοούσιον as being refuted by the council of Antioch 268.Footnote ⁷ While replying to this argument, none of the aforementioned pro-Nicene theologians denied the authenticity of the report. However, all attempted to explain why the synodals of Antioch 268 rejected the term ὁμοούσιος. According to them, the conciliar fathers of Antioch employed a different meaning of the term ὁμοούσιος—and they rejected that particular meaning. To the contrary, Nicaea brought forth a new understanding of the word ὁμοούσιος, and, consequently, the Nicene position did not contradict the Synod of Antioch 268.

To be clear, the argument of the present paper does not make use of the Acts of the Process, a document of debated authenticity among today's scholars, but only of the authentic testimonies connected with Antioch 268. Thus, in what concerns the theological vision of the synod, George of Laodicea testifies that, in order to stress, against Paul of Samosata, the ontological separation of the Son from the Father, the synodal bishops affirmed that the Son possesses an individual ὑπόστασις.Footnote ⁸ Furthermore, they maintained that the Son is also an οὐσία, which means, an individual substance.Footnote ⁹ Additionally, George clearly states that, for the same fathers of Antioch 268, the concepts of οὐσία and ὑπόστασις refer to the same thing.Footnote ¹⁰

For this reason, from the perspective of the Antiochene semantics, it is logical to reject the term ὁμοούσιος from trinitarian theology, because, within the conceptual frame of this metaphysical paradigm, this term implies the identity of the individual substances of the Father and the Son. This means that, if the Father and Son are consubstantial, they are not two but one single individual substance. As the Sabellians proclaimed, they are the same divine individual entity, “the same thing.” Consequently, Athanasius, Basil, and Hilary were right when arguing that Nicaea and Antioch employed two different meanings of the term ὁμοούσιος.

The Letter of Six Bishops is also a valuable document in our discussion, since it witnesses to two additional theological ideas considered orthodox in 268, as noticed by de Riedmatten in his research. While the pre-incarnate divine status of the Son is fully and clearly defended in the Letter, an obvious subordinationist position is also taken in order to avoid ditheism.Footnote ¹¹ Furthermore, de Riedmatten observes that the Letter employs the term “unbegotten” or “ungenerated” () as a fundamental divine name of the Father, “la première épithète qui convienne au Père.”Footnote ¹² Thus, the Letter makes a traditional distinction between the ungenerated condition of the Father, called “God the unbegotten” (), and the “generate condition of the Only-begotten Son”().Footnote ¹³

It is equally significant to notice that de Riedmatten compares the Letter of Six Bishops with the anathemas of the council of Sirmium 351 and points out the existence of some common linguistic elements and patterns of argumentation. His conclusion is that the Letter was decisively used in the redaction of the Sirmian formula and the anathemas.Footnote ¹⁴

The Antiochene metaphysical position that understands as individual substance can be easily noticed in the Letter of Six Bishops. In one passage, the document identifies and as it states that the Son is the Sophia, the Logos, and the Power of God “existent before times as God not in foreknowledge but in substance and hypostasis.”Footnote ¹⁵ At the end of the letter, it also states that Christ “exists in himself as one according to the substance, although he is rather known under many names.”Footnote ¹⁶

Another significant element of the Letter is the distinction between the invisible and unknown Father and the visible Son who is his image.Footnote ¹⁷ By way of consequence, humans may know of the Father only what the Son reveals to them.Footnote ¹⁸

These testimonies lead us to the conclusion that the Antiochene perspective encapsulated a specific theological language and a specific metaphysics in which the terms and refer to the individual substance of the Father or that of the Son. Nevertheless, while the divinity of the Son was clearly emphasized, the main weakness of this metaphysical language consisted in the lack of a linguistic instrument able to avoid ditheism; the Letter itself notes it briefly.Footnote ¹⁹ For this reason, it follows logically that the authors accepted a major ontological distinction between the invisible, unknown, and unbegotten God the Father and his manifested and only-begotten divine Son. As de Riedmatten has already pointed out, this vision implies an obvious subordinationist position. Subordinationism is equally supported by their current language of angelomorphic christology (obvious in the Letter 4–5), a common place of the pre-Nicene age, in which the Son plays the role of the messenger of the Father and is characterized by such classical biblical expressions as “the Angel of the Lord,” “the Angel of the Father,” and “the Angel of Great Council.”Footnote ²⁰ Later on, the aforementioned Council of Sirmium 351 would attempt to make official the doctrine that the Son is subordinate to the Father.Footnote ²¹

Antioch 268 in Its Eastern Roman Context of the Third Century

Other documents of the third century seem to imply that the Antiochene metaphysical viewpoint that assumes the identity between and was not only a local, isolated conception, but rather a more largely conveyed position that merely received its official expression at Antioch 268. For example, it is plausible that Origen himself defended the same metaphysical view: scholars like Prestige, Simonetti, Hanson, Williams, and Edwards have argued that “[f]or Origen the words ὑπόστασις (hypostasis), ὑποκείμενον (hypokeimenon) and οὐσία (ousia) are all synonyms for the same thing—distinct individual entity.”Footnote ²² I am inclined to assume the same opinion, since in Comm. Jo. 2.10.75, a text preserved in its original Greek version, one can see that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are definitely called three hypostases, while in Comm. Jo. 2.10.74 Origen acknowledges that the Spirit has “its own substance” () that is different from the Father's and the Son's, with the reason being that he is not the same thing as the Father. It is very plausible, therefore, that this meaning of , congruent with that of Antioch 268 and differing from that of Nicaea, reflects Origen's authentic position.

Another example is the synod against Beryllus of Bostra, a meeting that possibly took place somewhere between 238 and 244. Apparently, Beryllus, too, defended a monarchianist thesis thirty years before Paul of Samosata, while maintaining that the “Saviour and Lord did not pre-exist with his own delimitation of substance () before his sojourn among men, nor had he a divinity of his own (), but only the Father's dwelling in him.”Footnote ²³At least the first part of the sentence, which is significant for our discussion, reflects a standpoint very close to Sabellianism: the Son did not have an individual existence before his incarnation. However, the remarkable fact is that the correct or orthodox position expressed by Eusebius is actually phrased by means of the same Origenian language from Comm. Jo. 2.10.74: the Son has to possess “his own substance” (). Thus, it is worth noting that Eusebius of Caesarea reports that Origen was the theologian invited to the council of Bostra to debate with Beryllus, and ostensibly the famous Alexandrine converted the heresiarch to the standard vision of the third century, which most likely assumed that the Son possessed a divine individual substance before his incarnation.Footnote ²⁴ Moreover, this history adds even more plausibility to the thesis that Origen himself understood oujsiva as individual substance.

Another remarkable testimony regards Pierius of Alexandria, the head of the Alexandrine school who gained the sobriquet of “young Origen,” and who died in Rome in the first years of the fourth century.Footnote ²⁵ Photius describes Pierius's theological viewpoint in the following lines:

In conclusion, it is highly plausible that the metaphysical view of Antioch 268—in which the terms οὐσία and ὑπόστασις were used as synonyms and denoted the individual substance—was not only an isolated local standpoint but a widely spread theological language and a metaphysical assumption accepted as orthodox in the Eastern or Greek-speaking context of the Roman world in the second half of the third century. In spite of the fact that, following Nicaea, it was associated with the Arians and anti-Nicene groups,Footnote ²⁷ this vision was not heretical in the third century. Indeed, it received its official expression at the Synod of Antioch in 268. Consequently, the Antiochene theology of 268 most likely represented the orthodoxy of the time, at least in the Eastern part of the Roman Empire, as George of Laodicea plainly stated that this language actually represented the “Eastern” parlance.Footnote ²⁸ In modern times, Manlio Simonetti strengthens this thought by asserting that the understanding of oujsiva as individual substance was prevalent in pre-Nicene Eastern theology.Footnote ²⁹

We will further see that the metaphysics of οὐσία and ὑπόστασις assumed by the synodals of Antioch in 268 coincided with the fourth-century positions of Eusebius of Caesarea, of the Dedication Creed, and of the fourth creed of Antioch 341, which was subsequently taken over in many other creedal formulas of the fourth century. Additionally, the Homoiousian alliance made a direct connection between their position and Antioch 268. In conclusion, we discover in Antioch 268 probably the most influential synod of the third century. As no other synod before Nicaea contradicted the metaphysical view of Antioch 268, it is most likely that Eusebius, the subsequent Antiochene councils, as well as the Homoiousians regarded this understanding of οὐσία as the genuine orthodox and traditional metaphysics. The following pages will further argue for this case.

It is worth making the observation at this point that the meaning of “orthodoxy” or the “normative” in the third century was slightly different than the one in the fourth century.Footnote ³⁰ Beyond the subjective aspect in which all the authors of the time (e.g., Nicene, Arian, Homoiousian) envisioned themselves as orthodox, there are certain objective features. During the fourth century, a new meaning was gradually taking shape and becoming dominant, namely that a certain theological idea was expected to be declared orthodox in a general council and then gradually assumed throughout the whole Roman Empire. As Christianity did not know the phenomenon of ecumenical councils before 325, the term “orthodox” in the third century seemingly implied a more local theological expression, of more limited authority, however supposedly concordant with other coexisting accepted theological languages. Thus, Antioch 268 was one admitted language among others, “one orthodoxy” concomitantly accepted with other standard formulations. The Western and Latin speaking part of the Roman Empire, for instance, preserved its own trinitarian language and its metaphysics inherited from Tertullian's age, which coexisted with the Greek one(s). We may use the plural, since it is also possible that, in the Greek speaking world prior to Nicaea 325, two languages and understandings of οὐσία circulated in parallel, at least in the 320s.

Antioch 268 and Its Legacy in the “Heretical” Antiochene Councils Subsequent to Nicaea 325

Although Nicaea is perhaps the most prominent name when we generally think of the Christian history of the fourth century, the city of Antioch was arguably the most active theological center. In the fourth century, no fewer than seventeen councils took place in the city, compared to only fourteen in Alexandria, thirteen in Rome, nine in Carthage, seven in Constantinople, and seven in Milan. These numbers reflect the significant influence the city played in all the major debates of the time. Although not all of the seventeen Antiochene councils defended a unique and constant doctrine, and while some of them were focused more on administrative matters, we may, nevertheless, notice a certain reoccurrence of and preference for the metaphysical and theological paradigm assumed in 268.Footnote ³¹

A few councils held in Antioch in the 320s and 330s (for instance, in 327, 330, and 332) did not approach theological issues but rather defined a political identity in opposition to Nicaea. Likewise, in 338/9 Antioch made a new anti-Nicene political move in a council that enthroned Gregory of Cappadocia as the bishop of Alexandria. In response, Pope Julius summoned a council in Rome in 340 declaring Athanasius as the legitimate bishop of Alexandria. Additionally, Julius asked his Eastern counterparts to send a delegation to Rome in order to discuss the disagreement on Athanasius and Marcellus of Ancyra.

In response, in 341, with the occasion of the dedication of the church of the Holy Concord in Antioch, Emperor Constantius convened a synod in the city with the intention of outlining a common theological vision of the Eastern Empire.Footnote ³² However, the Nicene party regarded it as a “heretical Arian” meeting. Among the key participants we find Flacillus of Antioch, Eusebius of Nicomedia, and Acacius of Caesarea, as well as Basil of Ancyra and George of Laodicea (the two future leaders of the Homoiousian alliance).Footnote ³³ While the synod most likely elaborated only a single formula of faith, its historical dossier includes four formulas, as three other documents were added to the main creed.

Thus, the first formula seems to be part of a significant message (perhaps part of a letter) from the ninety synodal bishops, who manifest their indignation that the pro-Nicene party of Athanasius and Julius considers them “followers of Arius.” The Eastern bishops underline the traditional and even apostolic character of their theology by asserting that they did not “receive any other faith beside that which has been handed down from the beginning.”Footnote ³⁴ However, they do affirm that they verified Arius's faith and “admitted him,” which contradicts their refutation of the main Arian tenets in the second document. Yet Arius's theology contradicts another remarkable element of this letter, namely, Christ's existence with the Father “before all ages.”Footnote ³⁵

The second document of Antioch 341 is actually the real creed of the council, also known as the Dedication Creed. Here, the bishops equally profess their “evangelical and apostolic tradition” and Christ's divinity: “God from God . . . perfect from perfect . . . the indistinguishable image of the Father's godhead, substance, will, power, and glory . . . God the Logos.”Footnote ³⁶ This formula may be based on one of Asterius the Sophist's expressions: “God from God, indistinguishable image of the substance, will, power, and glory.”Footnote ³⁷ It is worth mentioning that the description of the Son as the “indistinguishable Image of the Father,” as we will also see in the following pages, starts playing a key role in the Antiochene trend. Moreover, as Mark DelCogliano has shown, while the term ἀπαράλλακτος (indistinguishable) was consecrated by the Stoics, it was Origen who applied it to describe the relationship between the Father and the Son.Footnote ³⁸ While the term was used by the Nicenes to assert that the Son was the “indistinguishable Image of the Father,” Asterius and the synodals of Antioch 341 describe the Son as the “indistinguishable Image of the Father's οὐσία.”Footnote ³⁹

One may even find a rare incipient trinitarian formula, “three in hypostasis and one in symphonia”;Footnote ⁴⁰ and it is again, most likely, Origen's thought at the roots of this terminology.Footnote ⁴¹ Furthermore, the Father and the Son have different οὐσίαι and different hypostases, which shows a definite continuity with the Antiochene metaphysical vision of 268. The council, therefore, develops a certain proper christology within the Anthichene metaphysical matrix, in which the Son is the exact or indistinguishable image of the Father's substance and exists in (symphony, consonance) with him.

While the third formula is part of a self-exculpation letter of one of the bishops, the fourth creed of Antioch 341 was composed a few months later by only a few of the bishops, and was articulated in an even more reconciling tone.Footnote ⁴² They both clearly state the divinity of the Son and his generation before all ages from the hypostasis of the Father. A significant historical fact is that the fourth creed would come to exert a tremendous influence in the Eastern anti-Nicene councils, as it would be taken over as the main formula of the councils of Serdica 343, Sirmium 351 and 358, Seleucia 359 as well as Antioch 345 (in the celebrated Ekthesis Makrostichos), 358, and 367.Footnote ⁴³ Winrich Alfried Löhr observes that the fourth creed of Antioch 341 became the orthodox formula of the Eastern synodals of Serdica 343, and accepted three divine ὑποστάσεις while envisioning οὐσία and ὑπόστασις as synonyms.Footnote ⁴⁴ Consequently, the assembly commonly shared with the council of Antioch 268 the metaphysical paradigm of οὐσία and ὑπόστασις, a sensible subordinatianist position as well as the idea of eternal generation of the Son. Once more, the continuity with the metaphysics of Antioch 268 is obvious.

As a last note about Antioch 341, which was an anti-Nicene council, one may remark that the synodals were distinctly aware of a set of positions associated with Arianism, and they strongly refuted them in the documents. Thus, the Dedication Creed concludes with a few anathemas against those who assert that the Son is a creature or that there was a time or age before the generation of the Son.Footnote ⁴⁵ As Henson affirms, the Dedication Creed “deliberately excludes the kind of Arianism professed by Arius and among his followers by Eusebius of Nicomedia.”Footnote ⁴⁶ This awareness of their separation from Arianism and the clear rejection of the Arian positions should be a sufficient reason to understand that the theology of Antioch 341 cannot be interpreted through the lens of Arian theology, or through the classical polarized difference between Nicenes and Arians. Thus, the synodals of Antioch 341 were neither Nicenes nor Arians in their theological vision. It is also worth noting that not all pro-Nicene authors characterized the bishops of Antioch 341 as Arians, as Athanasius did. Hilary of Poitier, for example, an obvious pro-Nicene author, declared this council a sanctorum synodus.Footnote ⁴⁷ We may conclude, therefore, that the theological vision of Antioch 341 needs a more appropriate description by means of a new hermeneutical key, and I submit that the metaphysics of Antioch 268 is the best candidate.

Another key Antiochene council took place in 345 and articulated a symbol of faith known as the Ekthesis Makrostichos (The Long-lined Creed). This new formula actually reproduces the fourth creed of Antioch 341 (in which οὐσία and ὑπόστασις are used as synonyms denoting an individual substance), and it adds seven long commentaries. The same stress on the divinity of the Son before his incarnation may be noticed here as well as the use of the term ὑπόστασις as individual existence. The fourth annexed commentary includes the thought that the distinction between the “unbegotten” () Father and the “generated” and “only-begotten” Son implies the subordination of the Son, an idea previously asserted in the 320s by Arius, Eusebius of Nicomedia, and Asterius.Footnote ⁴⁸ However, the Makrostich specifies that the Son is generated before the ages and is a “perfect God according to nature.”Footnote ⁴⁹ In the same paragraph, the text further avows that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are three things (πράγματα) and three persons (πρόσωπα), which clearly manifests another incipient trinitarian language.

Consequently, the above data prove that the main metaphysical and theological assumptions of Antioch 268 were reassumed and further refined in the theology of the emblematic Antiochene creeds of 341 and 345. In so doing, the two councils, alongside the writings of the authors who defended a similar position, actually developed the metaphysical Antiochene paradigm on a higher level of theorization and theological refinement, and, in this way, they strengthened a theological legacy still vivid within the anti-Nicene contexts of the 360s.

The Antiochene legacy of 268 had a direct relationship, too, with the councils held at Sirmium in the 350s, as the second council of Sirmium 351 took over the fourth formula elaborated at Antioch 341. As we have already seen, de Riedmatten shows that the anathemas of Sirmium 351 reveal the direct influence of Antioch 268. Moreover, the third council of Sirmium (357) was confirmed by a council of Antioch in 357, while the fourth council of Sirmium (358) was confirmed by a new council held in Antioch in the same year. Due to these strong ties between Antioch and Sirmium, it is worth taking a look at the theology of these Sirmian councils of the 350s.

While the creed of Sirmium 351 and its third anathema clearly assert the divinity of the Son before all ages, its first anathema condemns (in the spirit of Antioch 341) those who entertain the idea of a time when the Son was not, and of the Son being begotten either from nothing or from an other ὑπόστασις than that of the Father.Footnote ⁵⁰

It is also worth observing the way they use the term οὐσία, because doing so will unveil what they believed its meaning to be. Thus, the sixth and seventh anathemas assert that, while generating the Son, the Father's divine οὐσία is neither dilated nor contracted, because it is immaterial. This realistic language of dilation and contraction can be used only with regard to individual objects and not with regard to an abstract essence. Hence, the Father's οὐσία cannot denote an abstract essence but his concrete individual entity or substance. Thus, the underlying argument in this context is that the Son's generation from this concrete individual substance should not be understood as the generation of a material or sensible individual entity—which implies contraction, dilation, or change—but as a divine generation which is beyond space, matter, and change, because the Father's divine substance is not material and composed, and cannot be divided, dilated, or contracted.

Since the Father and the Son are two divine ὑποστάσεις or οὐσίαι, the problem of avoiding ditheism was perceived as urgent in this setting. Thus, while the Sirmian bishops distanced themselves from Arianism (as the synodals of Antioch 341), it is also remarkable that they struggled to find an appropriate position between Arianism and ditheism. Their optimal solution was to stress the distinction between the unbegotten Father and the only-begotten Son, and the subordination of the latter. The anathema 26 is particularly illustrative while chastising “whoever asserts that the Son is without cause and unbegotten, as if maintaining two realities without cause and two unbegottens, hence making two Gods.”Footnote ⁵¹ The argument clearly assumes that the quality of being “unbegotten” () belongs exclusively to God the Father, and that declaring the Son equally unbegotten will lead to the absurd conclusion of accepting two Gods. Consequently, the Son, in spite of being divine, cannot be unbegotten. And this ontological condition definitely makes him subordinate to the Father, an idea again clearly and officially stated in the eighteenth anathema (as it was at Antioch 345). As a last note, Basil of Ancyra, the future leader of the Homoiousian alliance, was one of the key theologians of this synod.

In conclusion, we can identify a certain Antiochene metaphysical and theological trajectory, already present in the genuine documents of Antioch 268, and further assumed and refined at Antioch 341, 345, and Sirmium 351. One may further count three common theoretical standpoints commonly assumed by the three councils: the meaning of and understood as individual substance (not abstract essence), Christ's divinity before ages, as well as a certain subordination to the Father (officially expressed at Antioch 345 and Sirmium 351). Through the mediation of the fourth Antiochene creed of 341, this paradigm was largely accepted in some main anti-Nicene councils, groups, and theoretical positions of the fourth century.

With this context in mind, it is not surprising that certain scholars have already envisioned, for instance, the creeds of Antioch 341 as expressing a widely accepted position of the Christian East in the fourth century. Kelly, for example, considers the Dedication Creed “frankly pre-Nicene in its tone”Footnote ⁵² and “a faithful replica of the average theology of the Eastern Church, the theology of which Eusebius of Caesarea was a spokesman.”Footnote ⁵³ In the same vein of thought, Hanson avows that “[t]he Second Creed shows us [the views of] the hitherto silent majority . . . they constituted a widespread point of view, but we can hardly call them a party”;Footnote ⁵⁴ thus, the Dedication Creed “represents the nearest approach we can make to discovering the views of the ordinary educated Eastern bishop who was no admirer of the extreme views of Arius but who had been shocked and disturbed by the apparent Sabellianism of N[icaea].”Footnote ⁵⁵ More recently, Gwynn makes the fundamental remark that the theology of the Dedication Creed cannot be fully understood within either a Nicene or Arian theological frame, but as a third viewpoint:

I submit that one can make the same assertions about the fourth creed of Antioch 341, later taken over in the main Eastern synods up until 367, and considered orthodox not only by the aforementioned anti-Nicene theologians and councils, but also by a pro-Nicene theologian such as Hilary. The large Eastern conveyance of this theological vision cannot be understood without a common tradition as its background. In the light of the above investigation, I submit that the largely shared Eastern background of the fourth century was built on the forgotten “orthodoxy” of the third century, which was epitomized and officially expressed at the council of Antioch 268.

Eusebius of Caesarea: A Theology in the Matrix of Antioch 268

De Riedmatten has already noticed that certain elements of the Letter of the Six Bishops—a few particular expressions and arguments as well as the subordinationist theology and the biblical texts employed by the subordinationists—make it closer to Eusebius of Caesarea than to Origen or Apollinarius.Footnote ⁵⁷ Eusebius of Caesarea has been portrayed in modern scholarship as “a great Origenist” and “the most influential church leader of the early fourth century.”Footnote ⁵⁸ Scholars have also noticed the significant influence he exercised on the Cappadocians, especially on Basil of Caesarea. As a result, in the last two decades, Eusebius has become one of the most researched authors of the formative era between the councils of Nicaea and Constantinople.Footnote ⁵⁹

In this particular study, my argument is that, in spite of signing the creed of Nicaea 325, on the one hand, and defending Arius and Asterius, on the other, Eusebius should not be interpreted either as an Arian or a Nicene theologian. To the contrary, I submit that a more appropriate hermeneutical key for understanding his theological vision should be the legacy of Antioch 268. The aforementioned central theological elements of Antioch 268—the concepts of and understood as individual substances, the eternal generation of the Son, and a sensible subordinationism—are also central tenets of Eusebian theology.Footnote ⁶⁰

We will further see that, in spite of being a key supporter of the Nicene council, Eusebius assumed a metaphysical vision on the divine οὐσία which is identical with the one defended by the synodal bishops of Antioch 268 and Antioch 341, and therefore distinct from the position defended by Athanasius and the Cappadocians. This dual attitude may also reflect his effort to re-conciliate the Antiochene and Nicene theological visions. However, our inquiry will lead us to the conclusion that Eusebius's metaphysical assumption, according to which the meaning of the term οὐσία denotes an individual entity, logically conflicts with the Nicene ὁμοούσιος, in spite of his attempt to harmonize them within the frames of a common theological vision.

Eusebius equally draws a logical conclusion within the semantic frame of Antiochene metaphysics: if the term οὐσία denotes an individual entity, particularly each divine entity, then the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit represent in fact three divine οὐσίαι. According to Eusebius, the Son and the Father are distinct entities in “substance and power” (οὐσίᾳ τε καί δυνάμει) as an image is a distinct reality from its archetype: “Indeed the image and the model are not considered one and the same thing, but two substances, and two realities, and two powers.”Footnote ⁶¹ Engaging philosophical terminologies from Aristotle, Numenius, and Porphyry, Eusebius defines the Logos as a second substance after the Father. The meaning of the phrase “second substance” should not be understood in an Aristotelian technical sense as “secondary substance,” namely, as species or genus, but rather as “second primary substance,” simply as denoting the Son as a distinct, separate individual entity, an individual divine οὐσία distinct from the unbegotten οὐσία of the Father.Footnote ⁶²

Aiming to express this ontological distinction between the substance of the Father and the substance of the Son, Eusebius primarily defines the Father by means of two patterns of thought echoing Origen's language. Thus, the substance of the Father is conceived as beyond any definition or language; it is an incorporeal substance, beyond words and linguistic expressions.Footnote ⁶³ Likewise, he is “prior to a principle, older than a first, of earlier being than a monad, mightier than every name, unspeakable, ungraspable, good, cause of all, maker, beneficent, foreseeing, saving, himself one and only God of whom all things are, through whom all things are”;Footnote ⁶⁴ his divinity is unbegotten as well.Footnote ⁶⁵ Eusebius's negative language associated with the Father also matches that of the Antiochene tradition. Furthermore, again in an Origenian pattern of thought, he even affirms that the Father is “beyond substance” (ἐπέκεινα οὐσίας)Footnote ⁶⁶ and defines him as the “unmanifested and invisible mind” (τὸν ἀφαν καὶ ἀόρατον νον).Footnote ⁶⁷

Unlike the Father, the Son is a second divine substance begotten of the first without deprivation, diminution, severance, or division.Footnote ⁶⁸ Eusebius protests against the Arian idea that the Son was created ex nihilo.Footnote ⁶⁹ Under this aspect, Eusebius emphasizes that, in the divine generation, “[the Father begot a Son] made like Him in all respects” ([ὁ πατὴρ ἐγέννα υἱὸν] κατὰ πάντα ἀφωμοιωμένον αὐτ), and the Son was “made like his Father in all respects” (τ αὐτο πατρὶ κατὰ πάντα ἀφωμοιωμένος).Footnote ⁷⁰ Likewise, Eusebius obviously defends the divinity and separate individual existence of the Logos by defining him as “another God in himself” (ἕτερον ἐν αὐτ θεόν; D.E. 5.4.4]), “a second God” (ὁ δὲ δεύτερος; D.E. 5.4.9), a “second Lord of all” (δεύτερος τν ὅλων κύριος; D.E. 6.15.2), a “second cause” (δευτέρου αἰτίου; D.E. 5.Præf.20), “having a different substantial substratum” (ἕτερον ἔχουσα τὸ κατ᾽ οὐσίαν ὑποκείμενον; D.E. 5.1.21), and “possessing his own substance” (καθ᾽ ἑαυτὸν οὐσιωμένος; D.E. 4.3.4). Finally, Eusebius qualifies even the Holy Spirit as a third substance.Footnote ⁷¹

Corroborating the data, we realize that, while assuming the metaphysical principles of the Antiochene tradition, Eusebius was concomitantly a supporter of Nicaea. However, the modern reader realizes, too, that he interpreted Nicaea and the ὁμοούσιος in a particular and surprising manner, distinct from Athanasius, the Cappadocians, and other pro-Nicene theologians. In the letter to his diocese of Caesarea, he presents himself simultaneously as a genuine defender of the Nicene council and its creed, and he strives to assure his community that the council did not contradict their inherited tradition. Nevertheless, the old adage non idem est si duo dicunt idem matches perfectly in his case. Eusebius comments on the creed and his accepting the Nicene formula in the following way:

The argument makes it very plausible that Eusebius did not envision οὐσία as an essence or common substance but as an individual, actual entity; real, but not material. For this reason, one can understand his constant concern that some people might think of the generation of the Son in a corporeal fashion as long as, in the material world, a generated substance is an object of the universe which possesses parts and can be divided. But the passage shows that Eusebius conceived of the substance of the Father as beyond matter and generation, while the Son's generation from the Father has to be immaterial and ineffable, surpassing the generation of any created entity. Thus, he struggles to assure his readers that the generation of the Son should not be envisioned as a division of the Father's substance, or as subtracting a part of it, because the substance of the Father is unbegotten, and therefore of a different nature (φύσις) than those of all the objects of the universe:

Nevertheless, the main challenge that Eusebius faces in his metaphysics of two οὐσίαι—in which the first one generates the second—is to secure the authentic divinity of the second substance, namely, the Son. If the Father is God and a different entity or substance than the Son, how is it possible to maintain that the Son is also God, instead of a creature? We have seen before that Eusebius actually calls the Son “another God in himself” (ἕτερον ἐν αὐτ θεόν; D.E. 5.4.4]) and “a second God” (ὁ δὲ δεύτερος; D.E. 5.4.9). Thus, his solution is to secure a highly accurate similarity of the Son with the Father through a certain firm expression able to communicate this high accuracy of likeness: “in every respect like (κατὰ πάντα τρόπον ἀφωμοισθαι) the Father” or “like his Father in all respects” (τ αὐτο πατρὶ κατὰ πάντα ἀφωμοιωμένος). As Lewis Ayres puts it, each of these expressions becomes a “cipher” attempting to secure the divinity of the Son, the fact that the Son cannot be associated with any created being but only with the Father, and that his accurate similarity would necessarily imply his divinity:

Once more, we may notice, in this passage, that Eusebius identifies οὐσία and ὑπόστασις, and asserts the existence of two or three οὐσίαι or ὑποστάσεις. Obviously, οὐσία denotes an individual substance. Nevertheless, it is noticeable, too, that Eusebius's theology encompasses a logical fallacy. His attempt to harmonize the Antiochene traditional metaphysics of οὐσία understood as individual substance with the Nicene ὁμοούσιος generates an ad-hoc, inconsistent theory. From a logical point of view, if one assumes that the term οὐσία denotes an individual entity, then the term ὁμοούσιος signifies either an identity of substance between the Father and the Son (in the sense that the Father and the Son are the same entity, as Sabellius claimed), or a class of gods.Footnote ⁷⁵ Consequently, since each of the two options is theologically unacceptable, the term ὁμοούσιος is not logically compatible with the Antiochene metaphysical vision, as the synodals of Antioch 268 had intuited at their time. Yet, it cannot be congruent with any of Eusebius “ciphers,” as he hoped. The Nicene ὁμοούσιον belongs to a different metaphysical paradigm, in which οὐσία is understood as common essence, the nature which individual entities share or participate in. Because the Nicene ὁμοούσιον cannot coexist with the Antiochene metaphysics within the same coherent system, tritheism remains one of the main challenges of Eusebius's vision.

Homoiousians: Reshaping Antioch 268 after Eusebius

Another theological vision articulated within the same metaphysical frame found in Eusebius of Caesarea and the legacy of Antioch 268 was developed by the Homoiousian alliance, which exercised a significant influence after 358. Moreover, as we will see, the Homoiousians themselves claimed that legacy. While their position has sometimes been misinterpreted through a Nicene lens, I will argue that they too should be read through the paradigm developed from Antioch 268.Footnote ⁷⁶ Beyond the well-known iota, which now and then occasioned even justified ironies, the Homoiousian vision appears to be almost indistinct from the pro-Nicene position.Footnote ⁷⁷ In contradistinction, if we realize that the main difference between Homoiousians and pro-Nicenes was the way they conceived of the divine substance, the difference between the two groups will make their positions and arguments much more clear, distinguishable, and reasonable.

Two letters preserved in Epiphanius's Panarion 73 represent the key extant Homoiousian documents. Basil of Ancyra and George of Laodicea, the leaders of this alliance, most likely composed the two letters and disclosed in an obvious way that they understood the Father and Son as two distinct οὐσίαι, two distinct individual substances.

The first document, the synodal epistle of the Council of Ancyra 358, starts the defense of the Homoiousian position with the following general biologico-philosophical principle: “Every ‘father’ is thought to be the father of a substance like his own (ὁμοίας οὐσίας αὐτο).”Footnote ⁷⁸ Frank Williams translates this sentence by rendering οὐσία in the Nicene sense as essence, or common substance.Footnote ⁷⁹ However, it does not make logical sense to affirm that a father or a mother gives birth to an essence like theirs, in other words, to a human-ness. To the contrary, it makes more sense to assert that a father or a mother gives birth to an individual substance like them, therefore to a child who is a human individual like them. From this biological observation about generation and substance, Basil proceeds to the argument regarding the generation of the Son as a different οὐσία than that of the Father: “It is obvious, therefore, from the natural observations, that the ‘Father’ does not mean the Father of an activity, but of a substance like himself (ὁμοίας οὐσίας αὐτο), of a hypostasis with a proper activity (τς κατὰ τὴν τοιάνδε ἐνέργειαν ὑποστάσης).”Footnote ⁸⁰ Hence, it is most likely that he identifies οὐσία and ὑπόστασις in this sentence in an obvious Antiochene fashion.

The same individual understanding of οὐσία is encountered in the following sentence: “Thus, while being generated similar in substance (ὅμοιος κατ’ οὐσίαν) with the Father who generated him, the Son will not bring his substance (οὐσίαν) to the identity (εἰς ταυτότητα) with the Father, but to similarity or likeness (ἐπὶ τὴν ὁμοιότητα).”Footnote ⁸¹ One of the anathemas added at the end of the synodal letter makes a traditional Aristotelian distinction between a substance and its activity, and subsequently criticizes those who think that the Son is like the Father only in terms of activity and not as a substance, too.Footnote ⁸²

The second document, most likely composed by George of Laodicea, similarly argues that the Son is not just a word, as Paul of Samosata maintained, but a substance. George further asserts that the bishops who criticized Paul at the Council of Antioch in 268 also called the Son a “substance.”Footnote ⁸³And the Laodicene, too, makes the distinction between substance and activity and affirms that the Son is a substance.Footnote ⁸⁴ It is equally evident in the text that George agrees with the same fathers of the Council of Antioch 268, who identified οὐσία and ὑπόστασις, particularly in the following sentence: “the fathers considered as identical with .”Footnote ⁸⁵

To identify the referent of the two terms, we must observe that, true to the Antiochene tradition, the Homoiousians employ the term ὑπόστασις to refer to the three divine persons. As mentioned above, George situates himself within the Eastern tradition going back to Antioch 268, and qualifies as the “Eastern” parlance the identity of οὐσία and ὑπόστασις understood as denoting the individual substance.Footnote ⁸⁶ As a last observation, Homoiousians do not consider that the Father and Son share a common substance (οὐσία), nature (φύσις), or divinity (θεότητα), rather all are different and similar, because the Son is “similar in all respects” (ὅμοιος κατὰ πάντα) to the Father, as George constantly asserts. Footnote ⁸⁷

As Simonetti observes, the strict identification (rigida identificazione) between οὐσία and ὑπόστασις in Homoiousian theology did not allow them to accept the Nicene ὁμοούσιοn.Footnote ⁸⁸ Likewise, in order to avoid the inclusion of the Son among the creatures, Homoiousians conceived of the generation of the Son as a special generation, described as “according to the substance” ().Footnote ⁸⁹

I submit that Homoiousians developed a theological vision which carried on the orthodoxy of the third century expressed at Antioch 268, and they tried to avoid both the metaphysical and theological problems that they identified in the other positions and solutions. While they distanced themselves from the problematic standpoints associated with Arius (as early as their signing of the formulas of Antioch 341 and Sirmium 351), they also realized, unlike Eusebius of Caesarea, that the Nicene ὁμοούσιον cannot cohabitate, within a single and coherent theological system, with their Antiochene metaphysical assumptions. If οὐσία is an individual substance, then ὁμοούσιος would imply either a class of gods or, in Sabbellian fashion, that the Father is the same entity with the Son. Consequently, if the substance of the Father and the substance of the Son denote two distinct individual entities, then the relationship between them cannot be of identity or class but only of “similarity” or “likeness” ().

For all the above reasons, they rejected the Nicene ὁμοούσιοn and defended the expression (similar according to the substance). However, if we think that, ultimately, Homoiousians, too, intended to secure the genuine divinity of the Son, like Athanasius and the pro-Nicenes, then we may affirm with Athanasius that the real difference between them was only a matter of words; I would say, of metaphysical vocabulary. Unfortunately, over centuries, the Athanasian adage has induced the simplistic idea that the difference between pro-Nicenes and Homoiousians was only that of an iota. But this simplistic interpretation fails in discerning the deeper philosophical game of the debate. They were actually two theological visions founded on two radically different metaphysical assumptions and, because of these different assumptions, their solutions encompassed dissimilar logical strengths and weaknesses. While Homoiousianism, and more generally the Antiochene paradigm, was able to make a clear ontological difference between the individual entities of the Father and the Son, the Nicene ὁμοούσιον did not possess the linguistic capacity to sufficiently emphasize their ontological separation as two distinct individual entities. To the contrary, while the Nicene ὁμοούσιον succeeded in its intention to express the divine nature's community between the Father and the Son, the Homoiousian concept of “likeness” was not able to secure it. And it was for this reason that Homoiousians proposed such supplementary conditions as the Son's special kind of generation, or the stipulation that the “likeness” should be “accurate” or “indistinguishable” (). It is worth mentioning that other theologians who assumed the Antiochene paradigm, too, proposed a similar theology of “likeness” and certain additional stipulations of the relationship of “likeness” between the Father and the Son: while Eusebius of Caesarea advanced the phrase “alike in everything” (κατὰ πάντα ἀφωμοιωμένος) and Asterius used “indistinguishable image” () and “accurate symphonia” (), the Makrostich formula of 345 (“similar in everything”—ὅμοιος κατὰ πάντα) was taken over by George of Laodicaea and the Sirmian meeting of 358. One may conclude, therefore, that fundamentally Homoiousianism did not advance a new metaphysical paradigm, but rather carried on and further refined the previous Antiochene vision, while trying to avoid Eusebius of Caesarea's philosophical contradictions. Unlike Eusebius, they realized that the metaphysics of οὐσία, understood as individual substance, cannot logically coexist with the notion of ὁμοούσιος.

Concluding Remarks

The above investigation has unveiled the character and influential legacy of a metaphysico-theological position developed in the second half of the third century in the Eastern provinces of the Roman Empire. According to this metaphysical standpoint, the notions of οὐσία and ὑπόστασις connote an individual entity rather than a common essence or nature; applied to the Father and the Son, οὐσία and ὑπόστασις denote each of the two individual divine persons. Apparently, this metaphysics represented an accepted, normative formula among others at the time, and received the official confirmation at the council of Antioch 268. It is very plausible that Origen, too, was one of its supporters.

In its reception history, this metaphysics exerted a significant influence in the Antiochene councils subsequent to 325, and generally in the theological discussions of the seminal years of the fourth century. Consequently, this metaphysics was considered as an accepted, orthodox, theological vocabulary at Antioch 268, and perceived likewise as the true tradition by Eusebius of Caesarea, the Homoiousians, and the synodals of Antioch 341 and 345, and Sirmium 351 (three main “Arian” councils of the fourth century). As a matter of fact, this doctrine of the third century would become a catalytic metaphysics for many of the anti-Nicene alliances of the next century, traditionally identified as “Arian,” or “semi-Arian heretics.”

Two of the main creeds of the fourth century—namely the fourth creed of Antioch 341 and the Ekthesis Makrostichos of Antioch 345, both classically described as “Arian”—preserved an obvious doctrinal continuity with the theology of Antioch 268. Other dogmatic standpoints defended at Antioch 268, such as the eternal divinity and existence of the Son and his definite subordination to the Father, were also carried on, or even clearly stated, by those who assumed this legacy. If we notice, too, that these councils actually expressly refuted the set of positions associated with Arianism—namely, that the Son was a special creature, and there was a time or age before the generation of the Son—we discover their firm continuity with the “forgotten orthodoxy” of Antioch 268.

Furthermore, while christological and trinitarian debates of the fourth century have been typically interpreted through the lens of a polarization between normative Nicenes and heretical Arians, our findings suggest that the Antiochene theological paradigm developed in the third century may be regarded as another theoretical pole in these controversies. And, in this light, it is seemingly more appropriate to interpret the theological positions developed at the Antiochene councils of 341 and 345, as well as the views of such authors as Eusebius of Caesarea and the Homoiousians through this new hermeneutical lens, namely, the Antiochene theology of 268 and its third-century orthodoxy, rather than through the texts and doctrinal views pertaining to Arius and his companions.