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Philip Schaff (ed.) · 1890

the same instant, there is in these two statements that 'mutual circulation' mentioned earlier. In the first, death is attributed to God or the Lord of Glory, of which the divine nature is not capable; in the second, ubiquity (being everywhere) is attributed to man, which the human nature does not admit. Therefore, by the 'Lord of Glory,' we must understand the whole person of Christ, who, being the Lord of Glory, was indeed crucified, but not in that nature for which he is termed the Lord of Glory. Similarly, by the 'Son of Man,' the whole person of Christ must necessarily be meant, who, being man upon earth, filled heaven with his glorious presence, but not according to the nature for which the title of 'Man' is given to him. Without this caution, the Fathers, whose belief was divine and whose meaning was most sound, would seem in their writings to have one denying what another constantly affirms. Theodoret argues with great earnestness that God cannot be said to suffer. But he thereby means Christ's divine nature in opposition to Apollinarius, who held that the Deity itself could suffer. Cyril, on the other side, contends against Nestorius just as much that anyone who denies that the true God suffered death forsakes the faith. This would be heresy, however, if the name 'God' in this assertion did not import, as it does, the person of Christ, who, being truly God, suffered death, but in the flesh—not in that substance for which the name of 'God' is given to him.”1
Regarding the part played by Theodoret throughout the whole controversy, we may conclude that though he had to own himself defeated intellectually, the honors of the moral victory remain with him rather than with his illustrious opponent. Not for the last time in the history of the Church, a great duel of dialectics resulted in a conclusion where, of the champion who was driven to say, “I was wrong,” the congregation of the faithful has nonetheless felt in their hearts that he was right.
The end is well known. Theodosius summoned the bishops to Ephesus at Pentecost in 431. Cyril arrived early in June with fifty supporters; Theodoret arrived with his Metropolitan, Alexander of Hierapolis, in advance of the rest of the Orientals. The Cyrillians were vainly entreated to wait for John of Antioch and his party, but they opened the Council without them. When the others arrived, they would not join the Council and set up their own “Conciliabulum” (a separate, unauthorized assembly) apart from them. Under the hot Levantine sun of July and August, the two parties denounced one another—on one side for not accepting the condemnation of Nestorius, which the Cyrillians had passed at the beginning of their proceedings, and on the other for the informality and injustice of that condemnation.
Then deputies from the Orientals, of whom Theodoret was one, hurried to Constantinople but were allowed to proceed no further than Chalcedon. The letters written by Theodoret at this time to his friends among the bishops and at the court, and his petitions to the Emperor,2 leave a vivid impression of the writer’s zeal, vigor, and industry, as well as the extraordinary literary readiness that could pour out letter after letter, memorial after memorial, amid all the excitement of controversy, the weariness of travel, the living in strange and uncomfortable quarters, and the tension of anxiety regarding an uncertain future.
Though Nestorius was deposed, his friends protested that they would remain true to him. Theodoret was part of the synod held at Tarsus, and another at Antioch, in which the protest against Cyril’s action was renewed. But the oriental bishops were now undergoing a process of division.3 John of Antioch and Acacius of Beroea headed the peacemakers who were anxious to come to terms with Cyril, while Alexander of Hierapolis led the "irreconcilables." Intellectually, Theodoret shrank from concession, but his moral instincts were all in favor of peace. He himself drew up a declaration of faith which was presented by Paul of Emesa to Cyril, and which Cyril accepted.
Yet, remaining true to his friend, Theodoret refused to accept the deposition of Nestorius or his individual condemnation. It was not until several years had elapsed—moved less by the threat of exile and forfeiture of property (the imperial penalty for refusing to accept the position) than by the entreaties of his beloved flock and his favorite ascetic solitaries that he would not leave them—that Theodoret found means of attaching a meaning to the current anathemas on Nestorianism (not, as he said, on Nestorius) which allowed him to submit. He even entered into friendly correspondence with Cyril.4 But the truce was hollow; Cyril was indignant to find that Theodoret still maintained his old opinions. At last, the protracted quarrel was ended by Cyril’s death in June 444.
On the famous letter over which so many battles of criticism have been fought we...