ISAAC OF NINEVEH AS A SPIRITUAL WRITER OF THE CHURCH OF THE EAST
Mar Isaac speaks the language of the heavenly beings …
Yuhanna ibn Barsi
SYRIAC CHRISTIANITY is known in history in three main ecclesiastical and theological traditions which go back to the epoch of the Ecumenical Councils (fourth—seventh centuries of the christian era).1 These are:
The Syrian Orthodox Church, known also as the Church of the West or Jacobite Church:2 this Church considered itself the heir to the Christology of Cyril of Alexandria and Severus of Antioch and rejected the Council of Chalcedon (451 AD);
The Church of the East, which rejected the Council of Ephesus (431 AD) and considered Theodore of Mopsuestia as its main theologian and teacher;3
Some Syriac-speaking communities in Syria and Lebanon, which accepted chalcedonian Christology and subsequently divided into two groups: the Melkites, who accepted the Sixth Ecumenical Council (680 AD), and the Maronites, who rejected it.
Saint Isaac of Nineveh, or Isaac the Syrian, belonged to the Church of the East. In his day the borders of this Church approximately coincided with those of the Persian Empire of the Sassanids (modern Iraq and Iran). Was this Church actually nestorian, as its enemies claimed? To determine whether or not Isaac was a Nestorian, one must answer this question.
In this Introduction we shall look briefly at the history of the Church of the East and at the main theological streams which existed in Syria by the seventh century. Then we shall analyze the information on the life and writings of Isaac and shall outline the main sources of his theology.
1. THE CHURCH OF THE EAST AT THE TIME OF ISAAC
As early as in the first century there were christian communities in Persia. Christianity expanded there first among the Jews and secondly, among the native persian adherents of the zoroastrian religion. In the third and fourth centuries Persian Christians suffered cruel persecutions on the part of the zoroastrian clergy: the persecution of the mid-fourth century, under Shapur II, was especially severe.
For several centuries the Church of Persia had little contact with the Churches of the Roman Empire. Its rather isolated position to no small degree conditioned the historical development of the Persian Church. It developed its own liturgical traditions, founded its own theological schools and elaborated its own theological language.
Another factor which contributed even more to the originality of the development of persian Christianity was the close links between the Church and the synagogue, which existed there much longer than in the West. The semitic roots of Persian Christianity can be clearly seen in Aphrahat, ‘The Persian Sage’, who wrote in Syriac in the first half of the fourth century. His twenty-three ‘Demonstrations’ are characterized by ‘the simple, biblical expression of faith, the complete absence of any influence of Greek-thought forms and continual concern with the teachings and customs of the Jews’.4
The syriac language, which was spoken in Persia, belongs moreover to the semitic family languages and is a dialect of Aramaic, the language of Jesus and the Apostles. Thus the second- or third-century translation of the Gospels into Syriac (Old Syriac) reflects the semitic roots of Christianity more fully than does their greek original. Accordingly, the syriac theological tradition preserved a close proximity to biblical language far longer than did the byzantine Greek-speaking tradition, which was greatly influenced by Platonism and Neo-Platonism, and by greek philosophical thought in general.
The ‘School of Persians’ (i.e. persian refugees), a very important theological centre for the entire east-syrian christian tradition, was founded in the fourth century in Edessa: its influence on the development of syrian theology cannot be overestimated. The main subject of study in this school was Holy Scripture: the disciples listened to their teacher and wrote down his interpretations.5 The school was attended by Syriac-speaking youth from Edessa and its environs, as well as by the persian emigrés.6 The biblical commentaries of Saint Ephrem, who interpreted only some parts of the Bible, were used as models of exegesis until the mid-fifth century.
Because Ephrem’s commentaries encompassed only a small part of Holy Scripture, however, the decision was made some time in the fifth century to translate from Greek the entire corpus of the exegetical works by Theodore of Mopsuestia. The main reason behind this decision was that Theodore had interpreted almost all parts of the Bible consecutively, using the antiochene literal method of exegesis: his commentaries had as their aim clarification of the text and he avoided allegorical interpretation. Once the translation was completed, Theodore of Mopsuestia became the main biblical commentator of the east-syrian tradition: all subsequent spiritual writers of this tradition, including Saint Isaac, referred to him as ‘the Blessed Interpreter’.
The translation of Theodore’s works was of crucial importance for syriac Christianity: along with his exegetical method, his theological views—including his christological opinions—were incorporated into east-syrian tradition. These opinions became a subject of heated discussions in the Greek-speaking East after the Council of Ephesus (431), which condemned Nestorius. At that time all writers of extreme diophysite orientation were likely to be counted among the Nestorians. Theodore made a sharp distinction between Jesus the man7 and the Word of God, speaking of the ‘inhabitation’ of the Word of God in Jesus as in the ‘temple’, and his Christology came more and more often to be labelled as ‘nestorian’. In the end, Theodore was posthumously condemned by the Fifth Ecumenical Council (533). Yet for east-syrian Christians he remained forever an unquestioned authority in the field of theology. This explains how the Church of Persia and the entire east-syrian theological tradition came to be called ‘nestorian’, the name which was never used by this Church itself, which had no historical link with Nestorius.
In 489 the ‘Persian School’ was closed by order of Emperor Zeno. Some years before that, however, its head, Narsai, together with his students, had moved to Nisibis. By the end of the fifth century the School of Nisibis became one of the main theological and spiritual centres of the Church of Persia.
At the end of the sixth century, Henana, who had become the head of the School in 572, made an attempt to replace Theodore’s biblical commentaries with his own, which were based on the allegorical method of Origen. Henana’s attempt was not crowned with success. A local Council in 585 confirmed the unshakable authority of Theodore and forbade anyone ‘in open or in secret to defame this Doctor of the Church or to refute his holy books’. Subsequently two other Councils, in 596 and 605, condemned Henana’s interpretations and repeated the anathemas against those who ‘refute the commentaries, exegeses and teachings of the proven teacher, the blessed Theodore the Interpreter, and who attempt to introduce new and strange exegeses replete with folly and blasphemy’.8 The faith of the Church of Persia became ‘the faith of Theodore’, or ‘of Theodore and Diodore’, as Diodore, the fourth-century teacher of Theodore and bishop of Tarsus, was also surrounded by a halo of sanctity and theological authority in the east-syrian tradition.
The end of the sixth and the beginning of the seventh centuries were marked by the theological activity of Babai the Great, who wrote extensively on christological matters. His theology is a sort of synthesis of the Christologies of Theodore, Diodore, and Nestorius.9 Being a leader of the conservative party which fought for strict adherence to the teaching of Theodore, Babai was in the forefront of syrian opposition to the Council of Chalcedon. He insisted on the doctrine of ‘two qnome’ in the incarnate Christ, employing the syriac term which was used to translate greek hypostasis, but which for Babai meant something different.10 Babai’s reference to two qnome thus gave the appearance of a direct conflict with the Chalcedonian definition of ‘one hypostasis (qnoma in Syriac) in two natures’. In developing the christological views of Theodore, Babai did make some use of Nestorius, in particular of his ‘Bazaar of Heraclides’, an apology written by Nestorius after his condemnation by the Council of Ephesus and translated into Syriac in the mid-sixth century.11 By the mid-seventh century the names of ‘the three teachers’—Diodore, Theodore, and Nestorius—were inserted in the diptychs of the Church of the East12 and they have been commemorated there ever since.
2. THE CHRISTOLOGY OF THE CHURCH OF THE EAST
Was the Church to which Saint Isaac belonged ‘nestorian’? To answer this question, we need to look at why did the Church of the East not accept the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon.
That the christological controversies of the fifth century revealed various points of view on the relation between the divinity and humanity of Jesus Christ is well known. In particular, the representatives of the antiochene school, Diodore of Tarsus, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Nestorius of Constantinople, suggested the following terminological expression of the unity between the two natures: God the Word ‘assumed’ the man Jesus; the unbegotten Word of God ‘inhabited’ the one who was born from Mary; the Word dwelt in the man as in its ‘temple’; the Word put on human nature as a ‘garment’. The man Jesus was united with the Word and assumed divine dignity. When asked the question ‘Who suffered on the Cross?’, they would answer: ‘the flesh of Christ’, ‘the humanity of Christ’, his ‘human nature’, or ‘the things human’.13 Thus they drew a sharp line between the divine and human natures of Christ. During the earthly life of Jesus both natures preserved their characteristics, so if one speaks of unity of the two natures, this unity is mental rather than ontological: it exists in our understanding of Christ, in our worship of him; we unite both natures and venerate one Christ, God and man.
The alexandrian tradition which, in the person of Cyril of Alexandria, was in conflict with Nestorius, opposed to the antiochene scheme another understanding of the unity of the two natures: the Word became human and did not merely ‘assume’ human nature; the unbegotten Word of God is the same person as Jesus born from Mary; therefore it was God the Word Himself who ‘suffered in the flesh’ (epathen sarki).14 Thus, there is one Son, one hypostasis, ‘one nature of God the Word incarnate’ (mia physis to theou logou sesarkomene). The latter phrase, which belonged to Apollinaris of Laodicaea, cast the suspicion of ‘mixture’ and ‘confusion’ of the two natures on Cyril of Alexandria. Cyril’s Christology was confirmed by the Council of Ephesus (431), but rejected by the east-syrian theological tradition, which remained faithful to the christological terminology of Theodore and Diodore.
The Council of Chalcedon (451) returned to the antiochene strict distinction between the two natures, but tended to avoid the terminology of the ‘indwelling’ of the divinity in the humanity and of ‘assumption’ of the human nature by the divine nature. The chalcedonian definition of faith was meant to bring about a reconciliation between the alexandrian and antiochene parties by accentuating simultaneously the unity of the hypostasis of Christ and the existence of two natures:
… We all with one voice confess our Lord Jesus Christ one and the same Son, the same perfect in Godhead, the same perfect in manhood, truly God and truly man, … one and the same Christ, Son, Lord Only-begotten, to be acknowledged in two natures, without confusion, without change, without division, without separation; the distinction of natures being in no way abolished because of the union but rather the characteristic property of each nature being preserved, and concurring into one person and one hypostasis …15
This terminology, welcomed by Nestorius himself,16 did not receive approbation in the Syrian East. Writers of the subsequent period, like Babai the Great, whose Christology was close to Isaac of Nineveh’s, continued to speak of the ‘indwelling’ of the divinity in the humanity and of the human nature as the ‘temple’ and ‘garment’ of the Godhead.
Why did the east-syrian tradition not accept the Council of Ephesus? The answer is concealed not in the personality of Nestorius—he was barely known in Persia even by name until the sixth century—but in the procedures of the Council. The Church of Persia did not accept the Council mainly because it was conducted by Cyril of Alexandria and his adherents in the absence of John of Antioch, who, upon his arrival to Ephesus, anathematized Cyril. The christological position of the Council of Ephesus was purely alexandrian: it took no account of the antiochene position, and it was precisely the antiochene (and not ‘nestorian’) Christology that was the Christology of the Church of the East.
It is more difficult to answer the question of why the Council of Chalcedon was not accepted by the East Syrians. Its formula ‘one hypostasis in two natures’ should have brought agreement between the warring factions. The greek word hypostasis in this context meant a specific person, Jesus Christ, God the Word, whereas the word physis (nature) referred to the humanity and divinity of Christ. When translated into Syriac, however, this terminological distinction could not be expressed adequately, since in Syriac the word qnoma (used to translate hypostasis) carried the meaning of the individual expression of kyana (nature); thus Syriac writers normally spoke of natures and their qnome. Consequently, whereas Severas of Antioch thought that one hypostasis implies one nature, diophysite writers claimed that two natures imply two hypostases.17
Following the same logic, the Catholicos Isho’yahb II (628–646) explained why the Church of the East could not accept the chalcedonian definition of faith:
Although those who gathered at the Synod of Chalcedon were clothed with the intention of restoring the faith, yet they too slid away from the true faith: owing to their feeble phraseology, wrapped in an obscure meaning, they provided a stumbling block to many. Although, in accordance with the opinion of their own minds, they preserved the true faith with the confession of ‘two natures’, yet by their formula of ‘one qnoma’, it seems, they tempted weak minds. As an outcome of the affair a contradiction occurred, for with the formula of ‘one qnoma’ they corrupted the confession of ‘two natures’, while with the ‘two natures’ they rebuked and refuted the ‘one qnoma’. So they found themselves standing at a cross roads, and they wavered and turned aside from the blessed ranks of the orthodox, yet they did not join the assemblies of the heretics. … On what side we should number them I do not know, for their terminology cannot stand up, as Nature and Scripture testify: for in these, many qnome can be found in a single ‘nature’, but that there should be various ‘natures’ in a single qnoma has never been the case and has not been heard of.18
These words show very clearly why the chalcedonian definition of faith was unacceptable to the syrian ear: it sounded illogical. Interestingly enough, Isho’yahb does not accuse the chalcedonian fathers of heresy: he acknowledges their good intentions, yet claims that they did not succeed in reconciling the antiochene and alexandrian traditions because of their terminology of compromise, which damaged the truth. Ultimately, Isho’yahb’s reluctance to reckon the chalcedonian fathers among either orthodox or hereodox shows that the Council of Chalcedon was quite irrelevant to this Eastern Catholicos; it was not a Council in which his own Church would have participated. One should remember, when speaking of the acceptance or non-acceptance of certain Ecumenical Councils outside the Roman Empire that the ‘Ecumenical’ Councils of the fourth to the seventh centuries took place within the oikoumene of the Roman Empire and were therefore not of direct concern to the Churches outside that Empire. The Church of the East, located within the Persian Empire, had no direct links with the councils of the byzantine world. If certain Councils were recognized in the non-byzantine East, this normally happened much later than the date at which Councils had convened: for example, the I Ecumenical Council (Nicaea, 325) was recognized by the Church of Persia eighty-five years after the Council sat.19
Having made this necessarily brief excursus into the history of the christological controversies of the fifth century, we can now answer our question about the ‘Nestorianism’ of the Church of the East. If by the term ‘Nestorianism’ we are to understand the teaching against which Cyril of Alexandria fought—that is, the teaching about the two different persons in the Son of God which led to the recognition of ‘two sons’20—then this doctrine was alien to the east-syrian tradition. Yet east-syrian theologians did speak of two qnome-hypostases in connection with the incarnate Son of God, and the Church of Persia, having not recognized the chalcedonian doctrine of ‘one hypostasis in two natures’, found itself in verbal opposition to the byzantine Church. From the fifth to the eighth centuries, writers of the Church of the East continued to use the christological terminology of Theodore of Mopsuestia and Diodore, and in the Greek-speaking East this was generally identified as nestorian. The Church of the East continued to commemorate Theodore and Diodore after they had been anathematized in Byzantium, and it included the name of Nestorius on the diptychs long after he had been condemned. All of this testifies that the Church of Persia, though not ‘nestorian’ in a strict doctrinal sense, adhered to the theological and christological thought which was rather close to that of Nestorius.
By the end of the seventh century, political circumstances effectively cut the Church of the East off from the byzantine world, which thus became largely irrelevant to it. This further isolation did not, however, lead to any decline in theology and the spiritual life. On the contrary, in the seventh and the eighth centuries the Church of the East reached the highest flowering of its theology: at this time lived and worked such writers as Martyrius-Sahdona, Dadisho’, Symeon the Graceful, Joseph Hazzaya, and John of Dalyatha. All of them were primarily mystical writers and did not occupy themselves with christological questions. Little known outside the east-syrian tradition, they constituted what one may call ‘the golden age of syriac christian literature’. The only representative of this ‘golden age’ to become known throughout the world was Isaac of Nineveh.
3. THE LIFE OF ISAAC THE SYRIAN
Biographical information on Isaac is contained in two syriac sources: The Book of Chastity, short biographies of Persian ascetics by the east-syrian historian Isho’denah, the bishop of Basra; and a west-syrian source of uncertain date and origin.
Chapter 124 of the book by Isho’denah is called ‘On the holy mar Ishaq, bishop of Nineveh, who abdicated from his episcopacy and composed books on the discipline of solitude’. Isho’denah says about Isaac:
He was ordained bishop of Nineveh by Mar Giwargis the Catholicos in the monastery of Beit ‘Abe. But after he had held the office of the shepherd of Nineveh for five months … he abdicated his episcopacy for a reason which God knows, and he departed and dwelt in the mountains. … He ascended the mountain of Matout, which is encircled by the region of Beit Huzaye, and he dwelt in stillness together with the anchorites who lived thereabouts. Afterward he went to the monastery of Rabban Shabur. He was exceedingly well versed in the divine writings, even to the point that he lost his eyesight by reason of his reading and asceticism. He entered deeply into the divine mysteries and composed books on the divine discipline of solitude. He said, however, three points which were not accepted by many. Daniel Bar Tubanitha, the bishop of Beit Garmai, was scandalized at him on account of the three propositions which he expounded. Yet when he reached deep old age, he departed from temporal life, and his body was placed in the monastery of Shabur. He was born in Beit Qatraye, and I think that envy was stirred up against him by those who dwelt in the interior parts of Persia.21
The west-syrian source contains similar information on Isaac, not mentioning the controversies surrounding Isaac’s theological propositions, but adding some other descriptive traits. In particular, the source relates that when Isaac went blind, his disciples wrote down his teachings.
They called him the second Didymos, for indeed, he was quiet, kind and humble, and his word was gentle. He ate only three loaves a week with some vegetables, and he did not taste any food that was cooked. He composed five volumes, that are known even until this day, filled with sweet teaching.22
The province of Qatar, where Isaac was born, was situated on the western shore of the Persian Gulf (the present Qatar in the United Arab Emirates). Around 648 the bishops of Qatar separated from the persian Catholicos. The schism lasted until 676, when the Catholicos Giwargis visited Qatar and reconciled its bishops with the Church of Persia. Possibly it was at that time that he consecrated Isaac, who was known for his strict asceticism, as the bishop of Nineveh.
Isaac had little success as a bishop. The following east-syrian legend, preserved in arabic translation, tells of his abdication. The first day after his ordination, while Isaac was sitting in his residence, two men came to his room, disputing with each other. One of them was demanding the return of a loan: ‘If this man refuses to pay back what belongs to me, I will be obliged to take him to court’. Isaac said to him: ‘Since the Holy Gospel teaches us not to take back what has been given away, you should at least grant this man a day to make his repayment’. The man answered: ‘Leave aside for the moment the teachings of the Gospel’. Then Isaac said: ‘If the Gospel is not to be present, what have I come here to do?’ And seeing that the office of bishop disturbed his solitary life, ‘the holy man abdicated from his episcopacy and fled to the holy desert of Skete’.23
This bit of information contradicts the above-cited chronicle of Isho’denah, which claims that Isaac departed to the mountains of Huzistan and not to the egyptian desert of Skete. It is somewhat unlikely, moreover, that Isaac’s abdication from the episcopacy would have been occasioned by one insignificant incident. Since we know that Isaac came from the provincial diocese of Qatar, which had been in schism for almost thirty years, it is more likely that his appointment was regarded with dissatisfaction by the citizens of Nineveh. At the time Nineveh was a centre of activity for the Jacobites; the very people against whom Isaac, as a ‘nestorian’ bishop, was supposed to contend.24 Not being inclined to arguments on dogmatic subjects, Isaac preferred to retire from Nineveh, which became an arena of conflict.
Just what three ‘propositions’ Isaac allegedly expounded and what precisely instigated Daniel Bar Tubanitha’s opposition remain an enigma. We know that Daniel composed ‘a solution to the questions raised by the fifth volume of Mar Isaac of Nineveh’,25 but the only testimony about this work left to us occurs in a record by the ninth-century east-syrian writer Hanoun ibn Yuhanna ben As-salt. He describes a visit of the Catholicos Yuhanna ibn Barsi to a famous monk. With him, the Catholicos brought the writings by Isaac and read them aloud, ‘without lifting his head until the sun shone on him’. After he finished, the monk asked the Catholicos which was more trustworthy: Isaac’s writings or Daniel’s refutation of them. The Catholicos replied: ‘Is it possible for a man like you to ask such a question? Mar Isaac speaks the language of the heavenly beings, whereas Daniel speaks the language of the earthly ones’.26
The precise date of Isaac’s death is unknown, as is the date of his birth. It is quite likely that already during his earthly life he was venerated as a saint. After his death his glory increased as his writings spread. Joseph Hazzaya, in the eighth century, called him ‘famous among the saints’.27 Another syrian writer calls him ‘the master and teacher of all monks and the haven of salvation for the whole world’.28 By the eleventh century, the greek translation of his writings made Isaac widely known in the Greek-speaking East: in the famous anthology of ascetical texts, the Evergetinon, passages from ‘abba Isaac the Syrian’ stand on the same footing as those from the classics of early byzantine spirituality. This is how a modest ‘nestorian’ bishop from a remote province of Persia became a Holy Father of the Orthodox Church of chalcedonian orientation—a rather exceptional phenomenon in the history of Eastern Christianity.
4. THE WRITINGS OF ISAAC
The anonymous west-syrian source mentioned above speaks of ‘five volumes’ by Isaac. The thirteenth-century writer Abdisho’ of Nisibis, who left behind a catalogue of east-syrian writers, mentions Isaac’s ‘seven volumes on spiritual discipline, on the divine mysteries, on judgments, and on providence’.29 We do not know whether this discrepancy is merely different divisions of the same corpus of texts that have come down to us or whether some works by Isaac are now lost. At present, we possess Isaac’s works in two parts: the first is widely known, having been translated into many languages; while the second, having remained virtually unknown, was only recently rediscovered.
The original text of Part I has come down to us in two different recensions: eastern and western.30 The eastern is reproduced in the edition by P. Bedjan, the only existing edition of Part I.31 The western exists in several manuscripts, the earliest of them dating to the ninth or tenth centuries.32 The main differences between the two recensions are: 1) the eastern contains many passages and eight entire homilies which are absent in the western; 2) the western contains a few passages which are absent in the eastern; 3) the eastern contains quotations from Theodore of Mopsuestia and Diodore of Tarsus, while in the western these quotations are attributed to other authors. Undoubtedly, it is the eastern recension which reflects the original text of Isaac, whereas the western is a Syrian Orthodox (‘monophysite’) reworking of Isaac’s writings.33
It was from the western recension that the greek translation of Isaac’s work was made at the end of the eighth or the beginning of the ninth century. In this translation by Abraham and Patrikios, monks of the Lavra of Saint Sabas in Palestine, quotations from Evagrius were attributed to Gregory Nazianzen, and some homilies and difficult passages were omitted. On the other hand, four homilies by John of Dalyatha were included,34 as was The Epistle to Symeon by the Syrian Orthodox writer of the fifth-sixth century, Philoxenus of Mabbug.35 The greek translation of Isaac is literal and thus preserves many unclear passages from the original syriac text: sometimes, it seems, the translators did not understand the original themselves. The greek translation was first published in 1770 in Leipzig36 and since then has been reprinted many times.
From Greek the writings of Isaac were translated into Georgian (tenth century), Slavonic (fourteenth century), and Latin (fifteenth century); from Latin, in turn, into Portuguese, Spanish, Catalan, French, and Italian (fifteenth and sixteenth centuries). Later, Isaac’s writings were translated from the Greek printed edition into Romanian (1781), Russian (1854 and 1911), modern Greek (1871), French (1981), and English (1984); and from Russian into Japanese (1909). From the Syriac Isaac’s writings were in ancient times translated into Arabic (ninth century) and Ethiopic (before the fourteenth century), and in modern times, in part into German (1876), and then into English (1921),37 and, in part, into Italian (1984).
This (possibly incomplete) list of translations alone shows the popularity the writings of Isaac have enjoyed until the present. As we can see, however, most of the translations have been made from the greek text, which not only reflected the west-syrian recension of Isaac but was, in its turn, an Orthodox reworking of this Syrian Orthodox (‘monophysite’) recension. In other words, for ten centuries the world has know an ‘improved’ Isaac, turned from a ‘Nestorian’ into a ‘monophysite’ and then from a ‘monophysite’ into ‘Orthodox’.38
At the present time, the possibility of discovering the original Isaac has been opened, thanks to Bedjan’s edition of Part I and, especially, to the recent discovery of Part II. The existence of Part II was known to Bedjan, who published some fragments of it in his edition of Part I39 using a manuscript which was subsequently (in 1918) lost. In 1983, however, Dr Sebastian Brock identified in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, a tenth- or eleventh-century manuscript containing the entire text of Part II. This Part contains forty-one chapters, among which chapter III contains, in its turn, four hundred ‘Gnostic Chapters’. An edition of the original text of the ‘Gnostic Chapters’ is being prepared by P. Bettiolo, but an italian translation of them is already available.40 Chapters IV-XLI have been published by Dr Brock, with an english translation, in the Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium.41
This study is based on both Part I and Part II of Saint Isaac’s writings. Quotations from Isaac have been taken from the translations of Dana Miller (Part I) and Sebastian Brock (Part II); full references appear in the Bibliography. These quotations form an integral, and perhaps the most important, element of the book; we ask the reader not to skip over them. Some of Isaac’s expression are difficult to render in English and therefore difficult to understand in translation. This is not the translators’ fault. As J.-B.Chabot wrote over a century ago, Isaac is ‘one of the most difficult syriac authors to understand’.42
5. THE SOURCES OF ISAAC’S THEOLOGY
Before turning to an analysis of Isaac’s theology, we should consider the predecessors who exercised some influence over him. Isaac was well-read in ascetical literature and he frequently cited, or referred to, ancient authors, both syriac and greek.
According to Brock, Isaac’s style—phraseology and terminology—’owes a great debt to two writers in particular, John the Solitary and Evagrius’.43 The writings of John (first half of the fifth century) exercised a profound influence not only on Isaac but also on many syriac ascetical writers after the fifth century.44 Though Isaac does not mention John by name, he uses many phrases borrowed from his language. Evagrius, a fourth-century writer, was the main authority in spiritual matters for all syriac authors: his works were translated into Syriac and enjoyed great popularity.45 Isaac mentions Evagrius by name and many times quotes from him; in imitation of Evagrius’ ‘Gnostic Chapters’, Isaac wrote his own four hundred ‘Gnostic Chapters’. For Isaac, Evagrius was ‘a recipient of boundless spiritual revelations’46 and ‘the one who has defined the form proper to each of our actions’,47 that is, laid the foundation of the theological comprehension of all aspects of ascetical activity.
In addition to John of Apamea among the east-syrian authors, Isaac knew Aphrahat and Ephrem, whom he quoted by name, as well as Narsai and Babai the Great, neither of whom he named. Among patristic translations, Isaac had knowledge of the Corpus Areopagiticum, the Macarian Homilies, the Apophthegmata patrum, the writings of Mark the Hermit, Abba Isaias, Nilus of Ancyra (fifth century), The Life of Saint Antony written by Athanasius of Alexandria (fourth century), as well as other hagiographic, ascetical and dogmatic literature.
In the field of dogmatics and exegesis, Theodore of Mopsuestia and Diodore of Tarsus were Isaac’s main authorities, as they were for the whole of the east-syrian tradition. Isaac referred to Theodore many times, calling him ‘the Blessed Interpreter’ and anathematizing his opponents:
Lest any of those who zealously imagine that they are being zealous for the cause of truth should imagine that we are introducing something novel of our own accord, things of which our former Orthodox fathers never spoke, as though we were bursting out with an opinion which did not accord with truth, anyone who likes can turn to the writings of the Blessed Interpreter, a man who had his sufficient fill of the gifts of grace, who was entrusted with the hidden mysteries of the Scriptures, enabling him to instruct on the path to truth the whole community of the Church; who, above all, has illumined us Orientals [i.e. East Syrians] with wisdom—nor is our mind’s vision capable enough to bear the brilliancy of his compositions, inspired by the divine Spirit. For we are not rejecting his words—far from it! Rather, we accept him like one of the apostles, and anyone who opposes his words, introduces doubt into his interpretations, or shows hesitation at his words, such a person we hold to be alien to the community of the Church and someone who is erring from the truth.48
As for Diodore of Tarsus, Isaac speaks of him with the greatest respect, calling him ‘a trustworthy witness’, ‘a person of high intelligence’, ‘someone from whose fountain the clear-sounding Theodore himself drank’, ‘the great teacher of the Church’, ‘wonderful among the teachers and instructor of Theodore’.49
We can see that in his choice of authors, in the fields both of dogmatics and of asceticism, Isaac was faithful to the tradition of his Church. He must be therefore considered as a traditional writer.
At the same time Isaac is one of the most original authors, not only in the east-syrian tradition, but also in the mystical literature of all Christianity. His originality lies not in opposing his mystical vision to a traditional one, but rather, as an heir of the same tradition and experience as his predecessors, in expressing this experience in new and original language and in many cases in coming to new solutions of old problems. Isaac did not feel intimidated in expressing his own opinions on ascetical and dogmatic matters—among the latter there are some very courageous ones, as we shall see in the course of our study. Yet he always tried to support his ideas by following the patristic tradition. He was not afraid to speak openly of his own experience of the ascetical life, but to confirm it he referred to the experience of others, his predecessors and his contemporaries.
Isaac lived in harmony with his Church, combining full freedom of thought with adherence to the Church’s tradition. By the conformity of Isaac’s experience and theology to the tradition one of the secrets of Isaac’s enormous popularity throughout the centuries is explained. From age to age Christians have found in him a great teacher whose spiritual experience speaks to ever new generations.
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1. See Brock, ‘Background’, 30–31.
2. Named after one of its most prominent leaders Jacob Baradaeus (sixth century). Also called ‘Monophysite’ by its theological opponents.
3. Called ‘Nestorian’ by its opponents.
4. Miller, ‘Epilogue’, 484.
5. Florovsky, VyzOtcy, 227.
6. Miller, ‘Epilogue’, 489.
7. The word ‘man’ is used in the present study to refer to Jesus Christ as a human being. It is not used as a generic term except in the quotations from Part I of Isaac the Syrian: these quotations are given in D. Miller’s translation, which we cannot modify.
8. Quoted from Miller, ‘Epilogue’, 503.
9. See Chediath, Christology, 194.
10. See the discussion of the syriac christological terminology in Section 2 of this Chapter.
11. Though Babai never mentions Nestorius by name, it is clear that he knew the ‘Bazaar of Heraclides’; see Miller, ‘Epilogue’, 504.
12. Ibid, 507–508.
13. Meyendorff, Imperial Unity, 191.
14. See Cyril of Alexandria, 3rd Letter to Nestorius.
15. Quoted from Meyendorff, Christ, 25–26.
16. In 449 Nestorius, who was still alive, agreed with the Tome of Pope Leo the Great, which was accepted as a basis of the christological definition of Chalcedon.
17. Brock, ‘Misnomer’, 25.
18. Quoted from Brock, ‘Misnomer’, 24.
19. Brock, ‘Misnomer’, 33.
20. Nestorius himself decisively refuted the idea of ‘two sons’, considering this idea as a misinterpretation of his Christology.
21. Isho’denah, Livre, 63–64 (277–278).
22. Studia Syriaca volume I, page 33 (32–33) [Volume and page will hereafter be cited as 1:33].
23. Cf Brock, Spirituality, 33; Miller, ‘Introduction’, LXVIII-LXIX.
24. Miller, ‘Introduction’, LXIX-LXX.
25. Assemani, Bibliotheca III/l: 104.
26. Sbath, Traités, 54–55 (109).
27. Mingana, Woodbroke Studies VII:268.
28. Chabot, De sancti Isaaci, VII.
29. Assemani, Bibliotheca III/1:174.
30. See Miller, ‘Introduction’, LXXVII-LXXVIII.
31. In referring to this edition in our footnotes, we use the abbreviation ‘PR’ (for the full title, see below, Bibliography).
32. Codex Sinaiticus Syriacus 24.
33. See Miller, ‘Introduction’, LXXVIII.
34. These are Homilies 15, 16, 17 and 31 from the Greek printed edition.
35. This is Epistle 4 in the Greek edition.
36. See Asketika.
37. See Mystic Treatises.
38. We place these terms in inverted commas to emphasise their ambiguity in connection with syrian tradition.
39. See PR, pp 585–600. Bedjan gives some extracts from Part III as well (see PR, pp .601–628), but these texts belong in fact to Dadisho’ from Qatar (seventh century). Bedjan also mentions The Book of Grace, which is attributed to Isaac, but modern scholars question its authenticity. D. Miller claims that it is not by Isaac but belongs to the pen of Symeon d-Taibutheh (‘Introduction’, LXXXI-LXXXV).
40. See Isaaco, Discorsi.
41. See Isaac, Part II.
42. Chabot, De sancti Isaaci, 63. In a few places translations have been altered slightly for the sake of clarity—ed.
43. Brock, ‘Introduction’, XXXVII-XXXVIII.
44. Ibid, XVII.
45. Ibid, XXIII.
46. II/35,12.
47. I/8 (68) = PR 8 (106) Cf. PR 9 (113); PR 19 (160); PR 22 (168); PR 44 (319).
48. II/39,7. One may hear in these expressions the echo of the anathemas of the Councils of 585, 596 and 605 against Henana.
49. II/39,10–11.