Plested builds on a tradition of scholarship that had its modern beginning in 1920 when the French Benedictine Louis Villecourt identified surprising parallels between a collection of fourth-century Greek paraenetic writings typically attributed in the manuscript tradition to ‘Macarius’ and a series of synodical condemnations of propositions associated with ‘Messalians’, ascetic enthusiasts accused of over-emphasising personal spiritual experience to the detriment of sacraments, particularly baptism. The dilemma created by Villecourt's discovery lay in the important place the Macarian writings have occupied in the development of Byzantine spirituality. The problem became more acute with later recognition that Gregory of Nyssa had adapted a Macarian text as the basis for his De instituto christiano (and not, as previously thought, the other way round). How to reconcile the official denunciation of themes in the Macarian texts – a process that culminated in a resounding condemnation at the Council of Ephesus – and the veneration of these writings by unimpeachably orthodox theologians?
Part of the challenge lay in establishing what ‘Messalianism’ really was, if indeed it was anything more than a label slapped on those exhibiting charismatic tendencies or resistance to ecclesiastical regulation. This issue was the focus of groundbreaking work by Hermann Dörries in his 1941 study, Symeon von Mesopotamien: die Überlieferung der messalianischen ‘Makarios'-Schriften, and by his successors Reinhard Staats, Otmar Hesse and, more recently, Klaus Fitschen, in Messialianismus und Antimessalianismus: ein Beispiel ostkirchlicher Ketzergeschichte (Göttingen 1998). Another problem was in understanding the origin of the distinctive aspects of the Macarian writings, with language and themes that proved highly influential but also unsettling (see my own ‘Working the earth of the heart’: the Messalian controversy in history, texts and language to AD 431 [Oxford 1991]). Finally, what really was the influence of the Macarian writings on later theologians? While earlier authors have examined aspects of that influence, Plested provides the most comprehensive study of the reception of Macarian themes in the later Greek tradition. He then uses that process of reception to cast light on the Macarian–Messalian problem. His serious engagement with previous work on these questions, as well as the new ground he surveys, advances the conversation considerably.
Plested begins with a concise but thorough examination of the historical setting of the Macarian corpus, the as-yet-unresolved question of authorship (there are uncertainties about the author's name, evident in Plested's title of ‘Macarius-Symeon'), and the textual tradition. Here he grasps the nettle of the Macarian–Messalian problem and suggests his own way through what Kallistos Ware has aptly termed a ‘swamp’ with no clear outlet. There then follows a fine overview of the ‘lineaments of the Macarian vision’, in which Plested's own elegant style is evident in sentences such as ‘the heart is the deep self, a vast and shifting domain of which we have only a dim apprehension’ (p. 33).
One of the strengths of Plested's book is his willingness to address the complexity of the issues without falling into overly simplistic analysis. He situates the Macarian writings in their variegated cultural milieu with its rich synthesis of Syrian Christian themes, Hellenistic philosophy, Origen's theology, Egyptian monasticism and Alexandrian Christology. This reminder of the perils of narrow Quellenforschung respects both the Macarian corpus and the later texts obviously influenced by it. From this perspective, the Macarian texts cannot be viewed as a single or unique voice in the evolution of later spirituality, as is suggested by a branch theory of Christian spirituality with Macarius the source of one tendency and Evagrius Ponticus of the other. While there were certainly differences of both content and tone between them, the synthesis of their thought by later writers suggests a fundamental complementarity. As Plested points out, despite their differences of emphasis and tone, Macarius and Evagrius shared a philosophical and theological background, as demonstrated by the links both had to the Cappadocian theologians. He suggests that Macarius' pneumatology was similar to that of Basil the Great, and that the relationship between Macarius and Gregory of Nyssa was one of mutual influence (Gregory taking up Macarius' teaching about ascetic communities, while Macarius was influenced by Gregory's apophaticism and teaching on spiritual ecstasy). Plested makes this broader point by concluding the first section of the book with chapters devoted to ‘Macarius and the Cappadocians’ and ‘Macarius and Evagrius’, providing the framework for the subsequent series of examinations of Macarian influence on Mark the Monk, Diadochus of Photike, Abba Isaiah and Maximus the Confessor. While previous studies have considered the links with Mark and Diadochus, the chapters on Isaiah and Maximus are new and important contributions to analysis of the Macarian legacy. Plested suggests that Mark is a ‘key figure’ in his study because of his unquestionably anti-Messalian credentials. The strong evidence for Mark's borrowing from the Macarian writings thus serves as a negative test for Macarius' own alleged Messalianism (p. 76). It is a neat coincidence that a Syriac manuscript dated 534 contains a translation of both Macarius and Mark, the oldest extant textual witness to either author's writings. The chapter on Diadochus, upon whom the influence of both Macarius and Evagrius was profound in terminology and thought, underscores the attractiveness and importance of this neglected spiritual author. Diadochus significantly modified one principal tenet of Macarius' spirituality, the coexistence of sin and grace in the soul after baptism, but otherwise shows himself profoundly indebted to Macarius for teaching on prayer, the place of tears in ascetic struggle, and the language of spiritual experience. Diadochus interwove elements of Evagrius' thought and Macarius' vividly experiential emphasis in a manner that proved to be a model for later authors, especially Maximus the Confessor. Plested's analysis of the writings of Abba Isaiah supports Rene Draguet's identification of at least two layers of recension in the original Greek text, with the Macarian themes evident in the secondary layer. Maximus appears as the culminating and perhaps most discerning heir of Macarian (or Diadochan) thought in the early period, his synthesis being the most complex because of his own brilliance and the richer array of sources available to him, including the Ps-Dionysian corpus.
Plested identifies areas for further study, such as the influence of the Macarian tradition in Syriac Christianity by way of translations and commentaries, the use of Macarian themes by later Byzantine writers such as Symeon the New Theologian, and the surprising reception of the Macarian corpus in the Christian west. I would add to that last point my hope that further study will help to illuminate the intriguing parallels between the teaching of Macarius, Diadochus and John Cassian on ecstasy and prayer. It is a great pleasure to review a book that surveys a broad field so intelligently. As a final note, this book is unusually well-written and, happily, well proofread.
