Anselm (1033–1109) begins with the common ground between the Latin and the Greek conceptions of the Trinity in order to attempt a reconciliation regarding Filioque (at the Council of Bari). He examines the identity of the Person (which is found in either origin or procession), and the Father and Son as source, and concludes that there is no inequality between the Father as principle source and the Son as a derived source. The Spirit’s procession is from “God,” who is the divine essence. This essence includes Father, Son, and Spirit—each possessing equality of divinity.82 Anselm, however, broke from the previous tradition regarding procession. Augustine had regarded the Father as the sole origin (with the Holy Spirit proceeding originally [principaliter] from the Father but also from the Son), and Aquinas has affirmed the Father is the source and that the Son’s procession is thereby derivative from the Father. Nevertheless, Anselm did not recognize the Father’s originality, and has perhaps influenced Western theology more than any of his predecessors.
The “Executorial Authority” of the Spirit—Definition and Storyline
Medieval theology challenges the universal Church to consider whether or not the Holy Spirit’s authority to execute God’s will in the world is in any way related to the authority of Jesus Christ, the one who proclaims, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matt 28:18). Is the Spirit’s authority executed under the authority of Christ or, as the Eastern tradition implies, is the Spirit somewhat “independent” of Christ’s authority in his execution of God’s will?
Whereas Patristic theology helps us discern a provisional definition of a generic “divine authority” with respect to the Spirit of God (the “who” of the Spirit’s authority), in this section we begin to discern the nature of the Spirit’s “executive authority” (the “how” of the Spirit’s authority with respect to the pattern of divine authority). In other words, while both Eastern and Western theologies grant the Spirit some measure of divine authority by nature,83 the difference between the two lies in the nature of the execution of this authority in the world. The two views are implied by their conceptions of the Spirit’s procession:
1. The Eastern formulation (as expressed by John of Damascus as the procession of the Spirit from the Father through the Son) implies that the Spirit has an “authority” derived from or delegated by the Father alone. Photius, in particular, emphasizes the parallel between the Spirit’s procession and the Son’s generation, thus giving them distinct origins in and from the Father. The Spirit has his own complementary role alongside the Son, cooperating with the Son. Rather than the unity of the Trinity residing in the Spirit, as we have seen in Augustine, unity in the Orthodox tradition lies in the Father. A supreme “executive authority” of the Spirit (one that parallels the “executive authority” of Christ) is thereby implied by Eastern Orthodox theology.84 The Spirit simply possesses an authority to execute the Father’s will. This authority is not subject to Christological limitations, and there is no directly implied subordination of authority by the Spirit to the Son.85
2. The Western view implies that the Spirit has an authority derived from and delegated by both the Father and the Son for the primary purpose of glorifying the Son (John 16:13–14). The Spirit does this by carrying out the Son’s will after his departure. Therefore, we may infer that an analogy to an executor of a will may best describe the Western understanding of the Spirit, as one who has been given the authority to carry out Jesus’ will on earth after Jesus has departed. It would then seem to be more accurate to speak of the Western understanding of the Spirit’s authority as that of an “executorial authority” rather than as an “executive authority.”
Is the Filioque debate solvable? Two ecumenical councils (Lyons in 1274, and Florence in 1438) both attempted and yet failed to resolve the struggle. Florence concluded that “from the Son” and “through the Son” means essentially the same thing, but this was later dismissed by the East. These councils probably failed because they only sought to persuade the Greeks to agree to Latin ideas. Many theologians throughout Church history (i.e., Anselm, Moltmann) have attempted various “compromises,” but none have proved satisfactory to both sides. Congar, a filioquist, asserts instead that the two formulas are complementary, as seen in the fact that the Fathers of the Church held both formulas in communion.86 Likewise, when we examine the Filioque debate in medieval theology, we seem to find complementary evidence as well.
Before attempting to “resolve” this debate exegetically (in chapter 3), we may make an initial comparison of these two views along two lines—historical (i.e., the impact of the respective positions upon history), and theological (i.e., the strengths and the weaknesses of the theological positions themselves). First, in our historical analysis, we notice two related themes regarding the Eastern Church: (1) it never completely broke from the handcuffs of imperialism, and (2) it did not recognize the authority of Christ over the Holy Spirit in ecclesiastical and soteriological issues to the same degree as the West. While granting “monarchical” authority to the Father as divine source, the “working out” of this authority in the context of humanity tends to escape into mysticism. Berman notices that this tendency is revealed in Eastern art:
Eastern Christian art has reflected the theology of the Eastern Church, and also the theology of the West between the sixth and tenth centuries, in its emphasis on transcendence (or “otherworld-liness,” as it is called in the West). This is a theology centered in heaven, in man’s “ascent to the infinite,” in man’s deification. The emphasis is on God the Father, the Creator. Christ has shown mankind the way to him. The icons reflect this.87
The Western Church, on the other hand, and Western culture as well seem to exemplify some strong benefits in association with of the Filioque. The clause was ratified by Popes who, in general, attempted to insure that the Church would not be mastered by the State but would be subject to Christ alone. Christ is King; the Pope is “vicar.” The results of their “incarnational” focus seem non-coincidental in at least two ways—the rapid development of the Catholic faith, and the progress of Western culture and the Western legal system. Berman provides the logic needed for such a conclusion:
But Western theology of the eleventh and twelfth centuries shifted the emphasis to the second person of the Trinity, to the incarnation of God in this world, to God the redeemer. God’s humanity in Christ took the center of the stage. This was reflected in the papal amendment of the Nicene Creed by the proclamation that the Holy Spirit “proceeds” not only “from the Father” but also “from the Son” (Filioque). God the Father, representing the whole of creation, the cosmic order, was incarnate in God the Son, who represents mankind. By the Filioque clause, God the Holy Spirit, who is identified in the Nicene Creed with the Church, was said to have his source not only in the First Person but also the