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PAINTING HALL |
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THEODORE OF STUDIUM
CHAPTER I.-
CHAPTER II.-
CHAPTER III.-
CHAPTER IV.-
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI.-
CHAPTER VII.-
CHAPTER VIII
REIGN AND OVERTHROW OF MICHAEL RHANGABE— RENEWAL OF THE ICONOCLASTIC
PERSECUTION BY LEO V.
THE accession of Michael Rhangabe must have seemed to the monks and their friends
bright with hope for the future. True, there were enemies threatening abroad
and subterranean mutters of discontent at home. Haroun al Rashid had died a year or two before, and the disputes among his sons
rendered the Saracens, for a time, less formidable to the Empire. But the
Bulgarians were as strong as ever. Crumn was drinking
from a cup made of the skull of the Emperor Nicephorus, and his people were
elated with their victory and ready to follow it up by devastating raids. In
Constantinople itself there were some who looked back with regret to the great
Isaurians, and who cared little for Michael and his house. But to Theodore and
his friends, outward fortunes were of little account in comparison with inner
rectitude, or rather, the most adverse experiences, if the heart and mind were
sound, seemed at the worst a severe and wholesome discipline. And the new
government was, they believed, sound at heart. The new Emperor had solemnly
promised to the Patriarch to keep the faith, and to avoid the shedding of
Christian blood, with all persecution of monks and clergy. Furthermore, Michael
showed himself ready to listen to the advice of the Patriarch and of the
monastic leaders. In everything he seemed willing to reverse the policy of his
predecessor. Where Nicephorus had been sparing, he was lavish. While Nicephorus
had allowed the laws against heretics to remain a dead letter, but had
persecuted those among the orthodox who resisted his authority, Michael was
willing to put down heresy and to work in all things in close alliance with the
Church. Whereas Nicephorus had practically kept his Patriarch from
communications with Rome, the advent of Michael was the signal for the
reopening of correspondence between Patriarchate and Papacy. Theodore himself,
mistrusted, threatened, finally imprisoned by Nicephorus, now appears in the
character of an active adviser of the new Emperor.
Michael must be regarded as a Pfaffen-kaiser.
The part was not a dignified one, and he did not show any particular ability
for playing it well. He was not a strong man. He had an ambitious wife and a
family for whom he was ambitious. His task required more character than he
could show. It was the more difficult in that the body of the clergy, by whom
he was generally swayed, was not all of one mind in everything. The party which
followed the Patriarch was more pliant and less averse to all manner of compromise
than was that of the Studites. Yet it was to the Studites that he chiefly
deferred. We may probably see the hand of Theodore in the two creditable and honourable actions of the reign,—the establishment of an entente
cordiale with the Frankish Empire, and the refusal to abandon Christian
refugees to the Bulgarians. The second of these measures is undoubtedly due to
Theodore, and it seems natural to suppose that he was consulted in the first,
the results of which were entirely in accord with his principles.
We have already seen that at the end of the reign of Nicephorus,
negotiations were on foot between the Eastern and the Western Courts for
settling the frontier question in Venetia and Dalmatia, and for establishing
some kind of modus vivendi between the two Emperors. The embassy of
Nicephorus had been accredited to Charles's son Pippin, whom his father had
appointed to rule over Italy with the title of But Pippin had died in 810, and
the ambassador, Arsafius, had proceeded to Aix, and held a conference with
Charles. The result had appeared in the interesting letter already quoted,
about the union of the two Empires (as we must almost certainly understand the
words) in the love of Christ. With Arsafius, when he returned, were a bishop
and two nobles, charged to restore to the “Constantinopolitan Emperor”, as the
chronicler still calls him, all claims over Venetia and the sea-coast towns in
Dalmatia. Possibly this did not imply that Venice was to be free from any money
payment to the rulers of Italy, but that such payment was not to involve
subjection.
Unfortunately, we have no
details of the reception of Charles’s ambassadors in Constantinople or of the
persons with whom they held consultation. Yet that embassy must have been eminently
successful. Like Arsafius, they had to negotiate with another sovereign than
him to whom they had been dispatched, as Michael was now on the throne, and his
son Theophylactus, crowned, or shortly to be crowned, as his colleague, was
specially included in the arrangements. The issue of it all was that three
ambassadors : Arsafius again, Michael, and Theognotus,
were sent to Aix to grant to Charles the greatly coveted title which probably
seemed to him of as much importance as any Adriatic cities. The conditions of
the treaty were presented to Charles, with his clergy and nobles, and solemnly
accepted by them in the church at Aix. On the conclusion of the treaty, the Greeks
formally saluted Charles as Basileus or Imperator. The
proceedings fitly terminated with a hymn of praise, which seems to find a
continuation in Charles’s letter to Michael : “In the name of the Father,
&c., Charles, Emperor and Augustus, King of the Franks and Lombards, to his
beloved and honorable brother Michael, the glorious Emperor and Augustus ... We bless our Lord Jesus Christ,
who has vouchsafed so greatly to prosper us as in these days to establish the
long sought and ever desired peace between the Eastern and the Western Empire,
and to unite in our times the members of the Holy Catholic Church, which reaches
over all the world, under His guidance and protection”.
It is a very notable thing
that the ambassadors proceeded directly to Rome, where they received the solemn
written sanction of Pope Leo to the treaty that had been made.
Charles had thus obtained
the reciprocation of the title of brother, and an acknowledgment of the
duality of the Empire and the unity of the Church. Some of the words used in
his letters require careful attention. In those days the designation of
fraternity between monarchs was not a mere piece of diplomatic politeness. The
profession of uniting in the love of Christ was not only pious commonplace. It
has been pointed out by an eminent French historian that the whole tenor of the
document and the expressions it employs correspond closely to those of the
treaties by which the dominions of Charles were afterwards divided among his
descendants. The brotherhood there was physical, but the idea was the same. The
unity was that of the Catholic Church. The two Empires were not the Roman Empire
as divided for administrative purposes under Diocletian, or under the sons of
Constantine. The administrative separation was acknowledged as complete, but
the spiritual union was to keep all Christendom together, and the spiritual
head was acknowledged in the Pope at Rome.
If Nicephorus the Patriarch
had been a strong man, he would probably have made some protest. But Nicephorus
was a strange combination of saint and courtier, nothing at all of statesman or
diplomat. And Theodore, as we have seen, had adopted, in all its consequences,
the doctrine of the Keys. To him, the whole proceeding must have seemed the
recognition of the great seats of authority in the Church and in the World.
Small blame to him and to his partisans if they could not discern that the
separation of the churches must needs follow on the gradual cleavage in
character and customs, and that the closing of one ecclesiastical controversy
only made way for more. For the time, at least, East and West were alike
orthodox, and both bowed to the authority of Rome. Similarly, Charles could not
foresee that after a few years, rex would
again be the most dignified word with which the Eastern Emperors would
condescend to address his successors. When he lay on his death-bed, only two
years later, he fondly believed that he was leaving a united Christendom, which
he had saved by his wars, and bound in unity by the arts of peace.
Meantime, Michael had to
make head against the Bulgarians. In his expedition he was at first accompanied
by his wife Procopia. Her presence seems to have
annoyed the soldiers. Probably they thought it implied that the Emperor did not
mean business. Their disaffection was quelled, but the Bulgarians had taken
advantage of the temporary confusion to press forward and make themselves
masters of some strong places in Thrace.
Whether in order to gain
time, or in consequence of temporary reverses, the Bulgarian king, Crumn, sent at this time an embassy to the Byzantine Court,
to make conditions of peace. These conditions, as to frontier limits and
commercial intercourse, were the same as those arranged between King Cormisos and Theodosius III, the last Emperor before Leo
the Isaurian. The Emperor was not very warlike, the people were
broken-spirited, and the Patriarch was strongly in favor of peace. The one
hitch that occurred in the affair was the stipulation that on both sides
refugees, captives, and deserters should be given up. It was on this point that
Theodore, who was summoned to take part in the imperial council, had strong
views, which did not coincide with those of the Patriarch. The refugees, whom
the Byzantines would have been bound to give up, were Christians, likely to
suffer evil things at the hands of Crumn if they were
left to his tender mercies. The captives taken by the Bulgarians had probably
already been ransomed or else sold into slavery, and so were not easily recoverable.
The advantage of obtaining the persons of the Christian deserters, who were
teaching the Bulgarians the use of Greek fire and military machines, seems not
to have come into the account. Theodore supported his position by a text of
Scripture that he was fond of quoting in other connections : “Him that cometh
unto me I will in no wise cast out”. He applied it in the government of his
monastery, never refusing candidates for admission. Here, of course, he used it
to denounce any proposition involving the betrayal of those who had sought the
imperial protection. His councils, taken up by the Magister Theoctistus,
prevailed in spite of the Patriarch and his party, who urged that the few must
sometimes be sacrificed for the good of the many. Unhappily, the bold decision
was not followed up by bold deeds, and Theodore’s opponents were able to accuse
him of singular imprudence in causing the rejection of a much-desired peace.
Whether, if an ignominious treaty had been signed, the relief would have been
permanent, we need not stop to inquire.
We may observe that in
another affair, Emperor and Patriarch were heartily at one in carrying out
Theodore’s maxim. The raids of the Saracens were at this time laying waste the
habitations of many monastic communities in the Holy Land. There was a general
flight to Cyprus, whence many of the destitute monks passed on to
Constantinople. They were received with a liberality and hospitality which, if
disproportionate to the measure of relief which a prudent financier would have
approved, were at least creditable to the good intentions of Michael and his councillors.
Meantime the Bulgarians
were advancing. Mesembria fell into their hands in
November 812, and with it, a good deal of the machinery for producing “Greek
fire”. Next spring the Byzantine army took the field, and for a very brief time
seemed successful, owing, apparently, to an epidemic that attacked the forces
of Crumn. In the campaign which followed, there seems
to have been a want of determination in the Emperor and of unanimity in the
generals, though the accusations afterwards brought against Leo the Armenian,
of foul play, do not seem well substantiated. The Emperor and Empress had first
visited the tomb of Tarasius, now reverenced as a saint, and surrounded it with
silver plates. It might indeed seem as if the vacillating spirit of the
deceased Patriarch were presiding over the plan—or no plan—of the campaign.
Some of the people, guided by a truer instinct, flocked around the grave of
Constantine Caballinus and invoked the aid of one who would never, had he lived
on, have allowed his country to fall into such sad plight. They saw him, they
said, mounted on his steed, ready to charge the Bulgarians. The orthodox party
might call them Paulicians, or Athingians, or other
bad names, for calling on one who had long dwelt in Tartarus,
in the company of demons. But the facts were not altered. The heretics had certainly
proved the best men of war. The battle—if battle it may be called—was fought
near Adrianople, where, more than four and a half centuries before, the Emperor
Valens had lost his life and his army in fighting the Goths. The imperial army fled
so readily that Crumn suspected a feint. The Emperor
returned to Constantinople, and proposed to abdicate, but his wife was
naturally in opposition to this step. It seems rather strange that his rival
should have been one of the unsuccessful generals, Leo, the governor of the
Anatolian Theme. But the army knew him to be a man of military capacity, who
might do something if only he were independent of so weak a figure-head as
Michael. Nicephorus the Patriarch was not unwilling to support him, so long as
he guaranteed the security of Michael and his family. This he was ready to do.
He entered the city by the Golden Gate—close to Studium, Michael and his family
took refuge in a church. They were spared on condition that they entered the
monastic life. Michael lived on for many years, and one of his sons afterwards
became Patriarch of Constantinople, and also author of some biographical works,
which are useful for contemporary events, though in themselves of doubtful
merit.
Leo was crowned by
Nicephorus, and seems at first to have shown a degree of orthodoxy which was
satisfactory to the clerics, and of energy which aroused the hopes of the
soldiers. He appears, however, to have declined to give a written confession of
faith. The worst thing known of his early days is a dastardly plot to
assassinate Crumn at a conference. This miscarried,
and the suburbs of Constantinople suffered terribly from the ravages of the
barbarian host. However, next year, owing partly to the death of Crumn, partly to the vigorous preparations of Leo, the
barbarians were decidedly beaten, not far from Mesembria.
It was now the turn of the Bulgarians to suffer from a raid of Romans. A peace
or truce for thirty years was subsequently signed between Leo and Mortogon, successor to Crumn, and
for some time the Bulgarians seem to have given little trouble to the Empire.
In other directions, also,
the change of sovereigns seems to have worked for good. By the testimony of his
opponents, Leo was an energetic administrator and a lover of justice. Yet his
barbarian ancestry—he was said to be half Assyrian and half Armenian—made him
obnoxious to some of the upper circles. The forces of superstition—the ravings
of soothsayers and the dreams of visionaries—could by his enemies be turned
against him. It is possible that he felt the need of making himself strong in
the respect of the armies. The memory of the crowd invoking the ghost of
Constantine Caballinus may have suggested a reversal of the ecclesiastical
policy of the last reign. Many who felt contempt for the feeble administration
of Michael or suspicion of an ultimate swamping of secular interests and policy
in the endeavor to reach a monastic ideal, were quite ready to suggest reasons
for a return to the policy of Leo the Isaurian and a new campaign against the
icons.
It may, however, be
gathered from what we know of the character of Leo, hateful as it seemed to
those whom he caused to suffer for their faith, that there was less of brutal
violence, more of a desire to appeal to reason and to effect a compromise, than
there had been under Leo III. or certainly under Constantine V. Leo was, of
course, high-handed and autocratic, but he preferred, if possible, persuasion
to force. One at least of his strongest supporters, possibly a prime originator
of his policy, was a man of learning and intellectual ability, John the
Grammarian. There may have been cruelty—though the sufferings of martyrs,
detailed for the edification of the faithful, can seldom be observed in a
clear light—but there is no ribald mockery. Leo would probably in any case have
been likened to a roaring lion—the temptation of his name was too strong—but
compared with other emperors, he does not seem to have been remarkably violent
in meeting open resistance to his authority. Moreover, he seems to have been a
religious man, taking pleasure in the sacred music which was at that time one
of the glories of the Byzantine Church, and ready to accept the role presented
to him of a new Hezekiah. Yet perhaps all the more because he was in some
respects a better man than the Isaurians, the persecution which he directed was
more disastrous to the Church.
Leo first attempted to get
the Patriarch on his side. It is surprising that Nicephorus, so pliant on
previous occasions, should suddenly have shown himself capable of resistance
even to the loss of position and of liberty. Perhaps his conscience was more
sensitive on matters of cult than on such as had to do with discipline, or,
more probably, the stern and uncompromising character of Theodore had acquired
an ascendency over his more yielding nature. In any case he used all his
influence against the innovations, and held all-night services among the
faithful. The Emperor had no scruple in taking matters into his own hands, and
issued an edict apparently similar in tenor to that of Leo III. Meantime he had
set to work some of the ablest men about him to search out and record all the
Patristic and Biblical statements by which his cause might be supported.
Of these adherents of Leo,
three in succession became Patriarchs of Constantinople. The first, Theodotus
Cassiteras, was a layman, who, from the course of events may naturally be
suspected, of designs on the throne of Nicephorus. He seems to have worked on
the superstitious fears of the Emperor. It is a curious fact that there was a
certain party among the monks in or near Constantinople ready to denounce the
icons and their worshippers and to promise long life and prosperity to the
sovereign who might put them down. The threats of a “possessed” woman and of a
priest named Sabbatius, and the machinations of
Theodotus to bring them home to the Emperor, are detailed at length in some of
the chroniclers, but need not concern us here.
Antonius, Bishop of Sylaeum, is said to have
been a man of law, who Red from the world in consequence of an accusation made
against him, and became first monk, then priest, Anally bishop. He was regarded
with contempt as a mythologus (story-teller?)
but seems to have been a man of parts. The Patriarch Nicephorus, on discovering
his tendencies to iconoclasm—probably before the Emperor had openly declared
his policy—held a synod by which Antonius was condemned as a heretic. He
agreed, however, to read a full recantation, though very soon afterwards he
explained to Leo that this act had been merely formal and that his sentiments
were the same as before. This tergiversation, when known, brought upon him a
second condemnation.
But by far the most interesting of the iconoclastic advisers of Leo was
John the Grammarian, a man about whom we should like to know more, as he
certainly shows versatility of character and talent, with originality and
boldness not common among his companions. In fact, he was probably the only
great iconoclast to whom Theodore wrote in terms of respect. He was regarded by
his contemporaries as an adept in the magical arts, especially in that of
foretelling events by means of a metal basin, whence the name by which he is
often called of Lecanomantis. It is not
impossible that he may have had some acquaintance, derived from Arabic sources,
with the physical sciences, and if this is so, it is by no means improbable
that, not being over-scrupulous in his dealings with the people, he may have
encouraged the general opinion that he possessed occult powers. He was said to
be remarkably proficient in literature and in rhetoric. He had been abbot of
the monastery of St. Sergius, in Constantinople, and was now one of the Court
clergy. He must have been fairly young at this time. In the next reign we And
him made preceptor to the young prince, and afterwards sent as ambassador to
Bagdad and greatly impressing the Caliph and his Court with his liberality and
his powers. On his return, he induced the Emperor to imitate the Moorish style
of architecture in some of his palatial buildings. He is said to have had a
house underground, in which he carried on his mysterious operations. It is
quite possible that at this earlier date he may have had intercourse with Mahometans, and have accepted their principles, at least so
far as to reckon a pure monotheism inconsistent with pictorial representations
of any being reverenced as divine. We have a graphic description of a scene in
church, after the beginning of the iconoclastic measures. It fell to the part
of John to read aloud the passage in Isaiah : “To whom then will ye liken God,
or what likeness will ye compare unto Him?”. Turning to the Emperor, John said:
“Do you understand, Emperor, the Divine message? Let no man make you repent of
the work begun, but remove far away every likeness that is thought sacred, and
cleave to the true worship of those who adore not such things”. This man, at
least, was not a mere tool in the hands of the secular power. His learning and
energy were turned to account by Leo, who chiefly entrusted to him the task already
mentioned of searching out authoritative statements against image- worship,—an
occupation on which John was employed from July to December 814.
Meantime, the Emperor held
private colloquies with the Patriarch which, as might be expected, led to no
result. He then summoned a meeting of the clergy at his palace. There
Nicephorus had a strong following, even among the bishops, of whom Euthymius of
Sardis was a decided champion, though Theodore seems to have taken the lead.
The accounts of this
conference are not of course to be taken as verbatim reports, but though one
cannot be at all sure what Nicephorus said—whether he tried to elude the
demands of the Emperor with a logical quibble, or made a long-winded speech
about miraculous icons, there seems to be no doubt as to the ground taken up by
Theodore. He simply refused to acknowledge the right of the secular power to interfere
in the affairs of the Church. This refusal is more intelligible than a general
assertion that the points at issue were not capable of logical argument.
Theodore himself, as we shall see, was by no means hesitating in the conflict
of reason, and believed as much as other Greeks in the power of argument; but
it was one thing to write out logical treatises for the benefit of waverers, or
even to meet a theological foe on a fair field, and quite another to consent,
in the presence of an autocrat, to the reopening of a question which a lawfully
constituted council had settled not many years before. Yet this bold
championship of ecclesiastical autonomy was naturally more irritating to the
Emperor than any opposition on purely theological ground could possibly have
been. He showed signs of great irritation, and declared that he had half a mind
not to let Theodore return to his monastery. But he was still reluctant to use
force and unwilling to bestow too cheaply the crown of martyrdom. Theodore
retired to his faithful “fathers and brothers” the hero of the day. He was
forbidden to speak on the controverted subjects, but refused to obey. Nicephorus,
though miserably ill, in consequence, no doubt, of the nervous strain, was
first dealt with. He was forcibly removed, imprisoned, and declared to have
forfeited his see. On Easter Day, 815, Theodotus Cassiteras, till then a
layman, was set on the patriarchal throne.
The Sunday before, Theodore
had taken a step which was too defiant of the imperial authority to be
overlooked. On Palm Sunday, he ordered a solemn procession around his
monastery, in which the prohibited icons were conspicuously borne aloft. Nevertheless,
he seems to have received a summons to the synod called by the new Patriarch to
give ecclesiastical sanction to the iconoclastic decrees. Needless to say, he
declined the invitation and refused to recognize the intruder. He must have
known that the time of banishment was nigh at hand, and he devoted all his
energies to confirming the resolution of his monks and to arranging matters for
their government during his absence. He chose a kind of committee of
seventy-two, to exercise oversight over the rest. He was before long removed by
the orders of Leo, and forced to retire to a place called Metopa,
near to the Lake of Apollonia, in Northern Phrygia.
Three spirited letters of
Theodore remain to us of this critical period. The first, a general encyclical
to the monks, was written to protest against the order presented to them for
signature, that they should cease to hold meetings and conferences for mutual
exhortation and support. In it he shows the power so necessary to a great party
leader of making each member, however inferior his grade, realize his personal
responsibility in maintaining a great cause : “At this moment, when Christ is
being persecuted in His image, it is not the duty of those only who are eminent
in rank and knowledge to contend, in conversation and instruction, on behalf of
true doctrine. But those who occupy the rank of pupils are bound to be valiant
for the truth, and to use all freedom of speech”. To sign the document would be
to betray the truth and to deny all spiritual authority, to give up the
apostolic position that “We ought to obey God rather than men”. He cites
examples of clerical resistance to imperial authority, and appeals to the
blessing pronounced on those who confess Christ before men, the curse on those
who hold back. How is he himself to act up to his maxim: “Him that come unto me
I will in no wise cast out”, if he promises to reject those who come to him for
counsel? He exhorts them to save their own souls and to support him by their
prayers.
The letter to Nicephorus
resembles many of the catechetical orations in setting forth the glory and the
joy of suffering for the truth and enduring the reproach of Christ. Besides the
eternal reward of his constancy, the Patriarch has, if he looks around, the
satisfaction of seeing his sheep, if physically separated, joined together in
unity of spirit by his example and his prayers. Theodore’s regard for the
person and the authority of Nicephorus is shown again in the letter which he
drew up for signature by all those who rejected the summons to the synod called
by Theodotus. Such synod, without the authority of a lawful bishop, was
incompetent to settle any matter of doctrine and discipline, and the remonstrants have the sanction, not only of the Second
Council of Nicaea, but of the great See concerning which the promise had been
made: “On this Rock will I build my church”.
This letter contains also a dogmatic statement of the principles held by
the objectors. The whole theological, aspect of the question, however, is so
fundamental for the understanding of the controversy and of Theodore’s part in
it, as to need a special investigation, such as we are to make in the next
chapter. The boldness and zeal of Theodore at this crisis show that he believed
in his cause and that he was able to confirm the faith of others. The question
what that cause actually was now claims our careful attention.
CHAPTER IX
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