““Now I have no doubt that, more often than not, a moral drawn from history lies in the eye of the beholder. But the more I read about the imperial church—the power plays, the petty jealousies, the various political intrigues—the less inclined I was to place any confidence at all in its pronouncements. In this, I suppose, my reaction was typically Protestant. Unlike some of my Roman Catholic friends, I had inherited a bias against official church pronouncements anyway; and as I saw it, the imperial church’s obsession with power and control inevitably bred, first, an obsessive fear of heresy, then, the persecution of heretics, and finally, a tendency to regard every deviation from the most rigid orthodoxy as heretical. Whereas the early church had sought to achieve unity through positive confessions of faith (“I believe in God the Father Almighty”), the imperial church sought to achieve it through the condemnation of error (“Let them be anathema”) and the persecution of those thought to be in error. And neither the moral character of the one thought to be in error nor the circumstances surrounding the fall into “error” seemed to matter one whit to an emperor such as Justinian, as his condemnation of Theodore of Mopsuestia illustrates. For though Theodore—“the ablest exegete and theologian of the Antiochian school” 27 had been dead for more than a century, though he had died in full communion with the church, and though Pope Vigilius had argued that no one can lawfully “judge anew anything concerning the persons of the dead,” 28 such was Justinian’s arrogance that he insisted upon condemning, not merely the bishop’s writings, but also the good bishop himself. And so, the Fifth General Council declared: “We, therefore, anathematize . . . the impious Theodore of Mopsuestia with his execrable writings.””
