Upon reading Father Christaan Kappes’ “The Filioque, Thomas de Aquino Byzantinus, and Ps.-Basil’s Contra Eunomium: Mark Eugenicus and John Montenero, OP, at the Council of Florence (1439),” I have gained an increasing appreciation for how a union between the Roman Catholics and Orthodox Catholics may occur. In fact, even the Oriental Orthodox and Protestants are viable candidates. The open secret is that through an increasing decontextualization of historical source material, one can reinvent dogmas on the spot. This is facilitated by a very specific epistemology of what is supposedly the only infallible and dogmatic binding doctrines in the Church, that being decrees solely on faith and morals issued by ecumenical councils (and ex cathedra Papal teachings according to Roman Catholics). All Roman Catholic clergy and many highly educated clergy within Orthodoxy hold to this view. However, this epistemology was first devised during the late ninth century and is in opposition to the patristic conciliar epistemology which may loosely be identified as “contextualist.” The fathers presumed that what was binding and infallible stemmed from an organic, historical process that informed the aforementioned decrees.

The idea that union can be attained through such decontextualization sounds outrageous, but only because it is. As the following will detail, mainstream scholars like Kappes assert that their own dogmatic decrees were sometimes devised by outright heretics with intended heretical meanings (and that’s not a problem). For the last few decades, such an approach has been repeated multiple times in agreed joint statements put forward by the world’s churches. Historically this cannot be considered Orthodox and is, in fact, a considerably more fantastical epistemology than the patristic view as the former requires a belief in some sort of magic or overt divine interference during the dogmatization process.

A Heretical Council of Florence. Kappes’ aforementioned article makes some startling claims from a “traditional” Roman Catholic or Orthodox perspective, though a “modernist”-leaning scholar may not raise an eyebrow. Particularly, he alleges that the Council of Florence taught the heresy of subordinationism. Kappes states plainly, “Montenero did commit subordinationism in his efforts to uphold Latin dogma.” (Ibid., 129, emphasis added)

Who is Cardinal Montenero one may ask? Taking Kappes at his word, because I have not read the minutes of Florence as they are not translated into English, he was the primary proponent of the Filioque on the Roman Catholic side–the chief adversary of Saint Mark of Ephesus. This is concerning, considering that when Florence dogmatized the Filioque, it was predicated specifically upon Montenero’s reasoning and his usage of Ps-Basil the Great’s Against Eunomius. Citing a flawed scholastic tradition that taught subordinationism, Montenero fully embraced the heresy according to Kappes. Quoting the article:

…at the Council [of Florence], Montenero was arguing repeatedly (both in Greek and Latin Acta ): “Yes, the Son is second according to mode and, thus, [the Spirit] is third in order and in dignity.” (Ibid., 150-151)

This perhaps innocuous sounding statement to the uninitiated is in fact so troublesome, because according to Kappes “third in order and in dignity” is a reference to dignity of divine essence. Kappes makes much out of this not being the view of Aquinas. Getting into detail about Aquinas’ rejection of such subordinationism is beyond our purposes here. It suffices to say that the latter reinterpreted Ps-Basil in a non-subordinationist sense so that allegedly he was speaking of dignity in “person” and not that of nature/essence. (Ibid., 151) However, Montenero didn’t take this tact. He embraced subordinationism, and those convinced of the Filioque during the council did so along with him when they accepted his reasoning.

The article has many interesting things to say. Allegedly, much of the scholastic tradition pertaining to the Filioque was effectively subordinationst. Further, Kappes also argues that at Florence, “They [the Latins] effectively proffer two principles for the Holy Spirit” (145), despite the decree claiming the Father and the Son are nominally one principle. This is because, the Spirit in the Filioque scheme defended by Florence derives His essence from both the Father and the Son, via the Father to the Son and then the Son to the Spirit, to make this happen. It does not take a mathematician to count step one (Father to Son) and then step two (Son to Spirit), or in other words two principles.

So as to not turn this article into a critique, or endorsement, of Kappes’ article, I only briefly note here that I disagree with his handling of Damascene and his defense of Aquinas of being totally immune to the subordinationist errors he decries. Kappes admits that Aquinas, for example, quotes approvingly the subordinationist scholastic texts and patristic forgeries, somewhat minimizing his alleged opposition to the idea.

In any event, taking Kappes at his word, one is led to a most interesting conclusion–Florence taught heresy and in fact intended to dogmatize it.

Does This Really Have to Be a Problem For Roman Catholics? The preceding appears to contradict any claims from the Roman Catholic to infallibility. This brings me to the purpose of this article: if we radically decontextualize history, it does not have to.

The easiest defense from the Roman Catholic side one could pose is that Kappes is wrong and Montenero, never explicitly endorsing “natural dignity” as opposed to “personal dignity,” must have meant personal dignity all along. This is despite the sources he quoted and drew from obviously taking the opposite approach. We must presume otherwise because we can, and if we can, we should. The most plain and likely interpretation of the meaning of what was stated is not relevant.

However, such ad hoc, surface-level decontextualizations bore me. I’m more interested in why what is claimed in the article is not a problem for Kappes himself and educated readers of his communion with similar worldviews. After all, they are faithful Roman Catholics.

If I were to wager a guess, Kappes and company would see the Filioque as a doctrinal development so that it is unsurprising that many wrong and rudimentary expressions of the doctrine were sanded off and honed over time. As such, the Council of Florence would not be immune from doctrinal immaturity. It, in their view, taught an infallible dogma, but happened upon it for the wrong reasons–heretical reasons at that. It doesn’t matter that Montenero had a heretical thought process and that the Pope himself, seated in the same room, nodded along. In fact, it does not even matter that the council’s decree was penned with a meaning intended by the preceding heretical thought process. The presupposition is that despite themselves, Florence taught correct dogma, even if it was totally unappreciated and misapplied up until the present day. I genuinely marvel at such decontextualization. This is the sort of decontextualization that has the capacity to effect union.

Adapting Our Epistemic Presumptions For the Sake of Union. Since the late ninth century, the following thought process has taken root in the West. All that matters is what is “infallible.” The minutes of councils are not infallible. Saints are not infallible. Popes themselves are not infallible. Only Papal ex cathedra statements on faith and morals are infallible. (For modernist-leaning Orthodox, who have in recent times assimilated much of the preceding thought process, only ecumenical decrees on faith and morals fit the same bill.)

For the Roman Catholic Church, Florence’s decree, being ex cathedra via Papal ratification, can theoretically be (re)interpreted in a non-subordinationist sense, despite the council’s intention to teach subordinationism through it. Therefore, nothing there is ultimately problematic in the eyes of Roman Catholics like Kappes.

Heidgerken, a scholar I greatly admire for his work on Maximus’ and Damascene’s anthropology, recommends a similar decontextualization for the Council of Trent. He admits that those assembled at Trent did not ascribe to the former saints’ anthropological views, but because the council did not explicitly enough exclude them, the Roman Catholic Church can now adapt Trent to them thereby reforming Rome’s anthropology. (Heidgerken, Salvation Through Temptation, 293) The preceding shows that Kappes is not an odd man out. This desire for decontextualization is common, if not expected, in scholarly ecumenical dialogue.

Effecting union this way is viable. If a statement with one historically verifiable intended meaning can be reinterpreted to mean something diametrically opposed to it, I cannot help but observe that anything can be adapted using this method. An Arian statement can be turned orthodox. Same with a Nestorian statement. Any statement! If everything is fallible other than ecumenical doctrinal decrees/ex cathedra statements on faith and morals, and that even these statements could have had incorrect intended meanings but their wording can be conceived in an orthodox sense against the intent of their authors, then every binding statement that separates Roman Catholics from Orthodox Catholics can be put back to the drawing boards. We can meet in Nicea in 2025, which is currently the plan, and doctrinally develop Roman Catholic dogmatic decrees to the point they are Orthodox Catholic or vice versa.

It appears, if one is to look at doctrinal inertia, the Roman episcopacy in future ecumenical dialogue is going to be making the chief concessions. The Chieti (2016) and Alexandria (2023) statements effectively forfeit post-schism Papalism. An “Agreed Statement” on the Filioque (2003) almost entirely walks back Florence (if one understands how incongruous its argument is with Florence itself, particularly the Greek of Florence using the word “proceed” in a sense opposed to the aforementioned document). Kappes’ (2019) article above goes almost all the way in abrogating Florence, though leaving the door open for Thomism (as does the “Agreed Statement”). Lesser issues such as Purgatory and indulgences have been walked back for centuries, so further compromises are likely. Interestingly, due to the popularity of Kappes’ Mariology and apparently state sponsorship behind his research (“Fr. Kappes was participating in a pilot program set up between the Vatican and the Greek government to study Greek Orthodox theology in hopes of overcoming the historical divisions”), I personally wager to guess that the Immaculate Conception will likely not be compromised by the Roman Catholics. Though Heidgerken appears cognizant that reform here may be necessary too, (Salvation Through Temptation, 293) I think it is more likely that it will be the Orthodox that will be challenged to reinterpret their historical Mariology.

How might Orthodox grapple with reinterpreting their own tradition on Mariology to conform to the Immaculate Conception doctrine? Due to Orthodox themselves often failing to appreciate what their own historical epistemology is, they may be tempted to believe that the issue has not been settled at the conciliar level despite Jerusalem 1672 (which has had Pan-Orthodox episcopal reception) and Constantinople 1895 both teaching against it. It should be noted that Kappes contends that the former implicitly endorses the Immaculate Conception somehow (despite Decree 6 which explicitly lists the Theotokos among those with original sin). So, I can see some adoption of Kappes’ reinterpretation of Jersualem 1672 being employed by those Orthodox seeking union. The latter council can be written off by them as non-binding (and thereby irrelevant). The consensus of saints from antiquity on the issues relevant to the question, (Truglia, “Original Sin in the Byzantine Dormition Narratives, 5-30) due to the Western presumption that such a consensus is not as binding as conciliar doctrinal decrees (and implicitly, the all-important ex cathedra statement), can likewise be disregarded.

In fact, if one can decontextualize decrees on faith and morals and disregard as secondary the historical teaching of the saints, why can’t union be made with the Oriental Orthodox? Or the Protestants? Justification by faith alone has already been given a similar treatment by a joint Roman Catholic-Lutheran statement in 1999. The possibilities are endless.

Why Union On Such Grounds Does Not Work With the Historical Orthodox Epistemology. Though Kappes’ is a “convert” (as in changing rites within Roman Catholicism) to Uniatism, this cannot be confused to mean he has an Orthodox Catholic phronema. Understandably, as his formation was Western, his worldview incorporates Thomism and doctrinal development. These ideas are foreign from authentic Orthodoxy, but being that he is not Orthodox that is not a problem. It is only a problem if one assumes Kappes’ as a Uniate has any authority to speak to what Orthodox supposedly believe.

The sort of assumptions that the minutes of councils do not really matter (so that Kappes is at liberty to accept Florence despite its allegedly subordinationist intent) is opposed to Sacred Tradition. Further, the idea that a consensus of saints from antiquity is not as binding, and thereby negotiable, compared to an ecumenical decree on faith and morals which is subject to doctrinal development, also finds no expression in Sacred Tradition. The preceding assumptions are all necessary for the ecumenist program to work. But, they lack a basis within the historical mindsent of the Orthodox Catholic Church.

This is why ecumenists tend to presume that the West and East always had different ecclesiologies, Mariologies, and whatever the dividing issue is. If consensus is always elusive, it is irrelevant as a binding authority. This effectively turns Sacred Tradition into a wax nose that can be molded to present day needs. Similarly, those with contrarian views (universalists, for example) take the tact that the historical data is not clear enough to convey a consensus (i.e. an appeal to endless specificity). This likewise permits tradition to be conformed to their peculiar ideas. Unlike such a view of Sacred Tradition, a concrete statement from an ecumenical council, for example, is clear. And, if it can be decontextualized beyond recognition and relegated to some sort or rudimentary relic whose doctrine has developed so profoundly to render what was believed at the time irrelevant, all the better.

In opposition stands the “traditional” Orthodox view of Sacred Tradition. I do not prefer the term “traditional” as it has become a sort of pejorative. In reality, the “traditional” view is simply the historically Orthodox view, and non-traditional views are innovative and absent from the past. It must be said that Sacred Tradition presumes upon its own cogency. Consensus is both real and tangible. The ecumenical councils when issuing their decrees often speak as what they are defining has already been settled by consensus. The idea that there are differing scales of binding authorities and the council is the only mechanism to bind belief is a mindset completely missing from the councils. The Scriptures testify that Sacred Tradition existed wholly from the teaching of the Apostles. (Jude 1:3) Any doctrinal developments are linguistic clarifications, as Dmitru Staniloae the Confessor argues, not new ideas.

People are so awash in the Western as opposed to historically Orthodox mindset, they may find the historical presumptions of the Church before-mentioned to be bizarre. An additional example of a “bizarre” historical presumption is “conciliar fundamentalism.” Conciliar Fundamentalism is the idea that the minutes of an ecumenical council are doctrinal authorities as well as it’s decree. The term itself, coined by Father Richard Price, is a pejorative. Yet, he recognized both its widespread existence in the ancient Church and that such a view did not mean that literally every single statement in a council was considered binding dogmatically. This is not even true in the Scriptures which quote Satan and other villains, as Price points out in discussing the issue. (Price, Constantinople II, Volume I, 98) I’d add this also includes historical statements made by councils, which may not be precisely accurate either (such as the age of the world given by Nicea II, or ascribing to saints quotations from what are believed to be Apollinarian forgeries).

Due to the preceding, “conciliar fundamentalism” should probably be called the “conciliar contextualist” view as long as we do not hold to a relativist view of contextualism (a term I use loosely here). Here is an example from Church history of contextualism at work: the Council of Chalcedon cannot be consistent with Ephesus I as it claims if the former’s participants endorsed the Nestorian Letter to Maris (which they did not). Hence, the conciliar contextualist approach to understanding the council, as employed by those assembled at Constantinople II, was that the council’s framers were sympathetic to Cyrillianism and not Nestorianism. They most certainly did not endorse the contents of the Letter to Maris, they asserted. Such an assertion is not quaint and naive. It is a historically necessary presumption.

Otherwise, we are stuck with a situation like Florence as Kappes posits above, where the conciliar fathers were outright heretics and intended to dogmatize heresy. The conciliar fathers of Constantinople II even recognized that “one or two” participants in Chalcedon may have approved of something Nestorian, but “everyone else” did not. (Price, Constantinople II, Volume 2, 70; Session 6, Par 30) The contextualist claim is not that every utterance in a council is perfect and that every single individual had correct intentions, but that the overall mindset of everyone involved was orthodox and trustworthy. This sensibly makes a given ecumenical council a good source for dogmatic pronouncements. It is the same reason we allegedly trust a peer review process (with numerous experts who have established trust and authority judging other experts) as opposed to random blog posts in isolation (like this one!) A single bad peer-reviewer, being that ideally many such reviewers judge a work (in reality it is more like two), would not render moot the whole peer-review process.

The preceding contextualist reasoning has interesting knock-on effects on secondary matters, those being doctrines that were not the main subject of controversy during a given council. Constantinople II’s fathers, for example, anathematized Origen’s teachings and it is a matter of historical certainty which teachings of Origen were being referred to (as the anathemas are extant). Tradition across the board identifies that Constantinople II itself condemned apokatastasis (and there can be no doubt that Origen himself was anathematized by name in the 11th anathema). Yet, the condemnation of apokatastasis by the council is not strictly accurate. In reality, apokatastasis was never brought up explicitly during the council, but only comes up in the anathemas which are documents technically mutually exclusive from the council (though not really, as they were published with the council, cited obliquely during the council, and in antiquity documents included with the published editions were treated with conciliar authority).

By treating “adjacent” documents with the authority of an ecumenical council, the saints of days passed were not ignoramuses as moderns unthinkingly assume. These men were the most educated of their time (as there was no such thing as theoretical physics and hedge funds, which today prove to be a brain drain of our brightest). These fathers were also pious contextualists. They understood that the condemnation of Origen, and why he was condemned, was not a matter of one or two people’s private opinions during Constantinople II. It was a documented consensus of the participants, and if their consensus was wrong on this matter this would make all of them heretics. And if they were heretics, then how could their conclusions concerning Christology and the “Three Chapters” be correct? Why would the words of heretics matter? This would be like a peer-reviewed journal where every peer reviewer is a quack. Would you trust what they put out on any matter?

Similarly, Constantinople III at great pains set out to prove that passing Monoenergist statements (in the writings of Vigilius and Saint Menas of Constantinople) were not approved as part of larger documents within Constantinople II, but in fact were forgeries. After all, if the fathers of the latter council were Monoenergist heretics and permitted the publishing of such statements without opposition, then why would the rest of Constantinople II be trustworthy? It would be like a peer-reviewed science journal publishing an article about the moon, but presuming upon a geocentric universe. Would you trust what they say about the moon, even if the presumption of geocentrism is technically irrelevant to what the article otherwise addresses? To say something along the lines of that a given council was not dealing with Monoenergism, Origenism, or whatever else so they could have made errors on these matters but not the principal matter at question misses the point. If the conciliar fathers were overt heretics on salvation, Christology, or any other crucial issue they are doctrinally untrustworthy. To quote Pope Gelasius’ fifth century defense of Chalcedon: “for either it [Chalcedon] must be admitted in its entirety, or if it is partially redeemable, it is no longer possible to stand firm in its entirety.” (Thiel, Epistolae Papae Gelasii, Tractatus 4.1, 558)

Conciliar contextualism appears to those who do not understand it as ridiculous because they think it turns the conciliar fathers into prophets of one sort of another, where every utterance they make on any question magically has authority. Ironically, it is the modernists and those with adjacent ideologies (even those styling themselves as traditionalists, when they are not) that approach the conciliar fathers in a borderline magical sense. As stated previously, such modernists pose (without a patristic basis from antiquity) that only dogmatic decrees on faith and morals are binding, infallible, and dogmatic. So, apparently the conciliar fathers can have no idea what they are talking about on a range of issues, but magically during the process of decreeing the main dogma in question what must be a trance overcomes all of them ensuring that whatever they say then, and only then, will have no errors.

Compare this to the contextualist view. The conciliar fathers are saintly and venerated, but they are still men. Their trustworthiness on one question stems from their overall trustworthiness on theological questions as a whole. This is why during Nicea II, one of the arguments in favor of iconodulia was that the churches of the previous ecumenical councils (which were still standing) had icons. If iconodulia was a heresy, as the iconoclasts asserted, then what does that mean for all the other ecumenical councils which taught what they did with icons in their presence? Were the Orthodox in the eighth century approving of necessary Christological doctrines decreed in the past by idolaters? Obviously not. Inferring an implicit approval of iconodulia from the preceding is by no means a stretch.

The preceding makes sense given the high regard the councils treated other conciliar documents, even the portions which were not actually part of the council. Moderns have a tendency to look at such tendencies and simply view such a practice as uneducated. For example, why did Constantinople III investigate whether a letter from Saint Menas of Constantinople appended to the beginning of Constantinople II’s minutes really contained a Monoenergist statement? It would have been easy enough to state, like a fine legalist, that Menas died before the council even convened and that it did not speak for the council. However, someone with an eye towards context would recognize if the official published version of the council that was promulgated contained an obvious theological error in several places, this puts into disrepute not just a single saint, but the whole process. The conciliar fathers when they were still alive received the said minutes and the chancery in Constantinople that produced them dictated theological policy at the time the ecumenical council occurred. If they were so neglectful of heresy at that time as to allow it to be published in such an important document without opposition, what good is a council published from implicit Monothelites? As one can see, this is similar to the significance that Nicea II inferred from the icons in the churches of the earlier ecumenical councils.

Apparently, it is the moderns that need to be schooled in common sense by the ancients.

In reality, the contextualists have the less fantastical and arbitrary view of patristic authority. Indeed, the saints were imbued by God with wisdom. In fact, God superintended their work, as the footnote to Apostolic Canon 85 in Saint Nicodemus the Hagiorite’s The Rudder makes clear. However, God did not inspire the writers word for word. The saints were men and were shaped by historical circumstance, their own opinions, and spiritual struggles. God, guiding all of human history providentially, by His Spirit guides the saints and their work in the ecumenical councils. However, these men were not prophetic automatons speaking, “Thus saith the Lord.” Hence, we cannot decontextualize their words. The context helps establish the actual meaning of the councils and the importance of all the primary doctrines of interest, as well as those of secondary importance, that they discussed.

In response to this, it is the Orthodox modernist that sounds overly fideistic claiming that “it is only the conciliar decree that counts.” The Roman Catholic stating the same about ex cathedra Papal pronouncements sounds little different. For only one set of words said in a special place to matter, and the context from which they derive their meaning to be irrelevant, reduces what is binding dogmatically outside of the Scriptures into a sort of Montanism. To summarize what the substance of their views really are, God reveals special things in a special way to only special people under special circumstances and their actual meaning is apparently a mystery because the context in which one derives the meaning of such words is ultimately fallible and thereby irrelevant.

It appears the contextualists, derided as “conciliar fundamentalists,” in fact have the last laugh.

Concluding thoughts. When I gather my thoughts about the preceding, I cannot help but feel that the real ramifications are that union cannot be attained without a shared mindset. Being that presently both the Orthodox and heterodox mindsets are different, without repentance, even saying the right words means nothing. In fact, it is dangerous. An unfaithful spouse that says that he or she is sorry, but does not know why it is wrong to get drunk and carouse with the opposite sex, is not actually repentant. And so, to put a damper on the ecumenist mindset, any initiative where we all pretend it was “a big misunderstanding” and agree to right sounding words will achieve nothing. Without a change of worldview so as to align it with the Orthodox phronema, the union will be false. Due to the naked decontextualization of Sacred Tradition and conciliar authority taken for granted by the modernists, one would very quickly see those fine sounding words alter their meaning.

Concerning union, saint canonizations are where the rubber meats the road. The Roman Catholic Church, due to it embracing the decontextualization of everything, permits Uniates of various stripes to venerate committed anti-Roman Catholics like Saint Gregory Palamas. So, if there is a union and things like Papal Supremacy and the Filioque are denounced as heterodox, any saint canonized by the West who has taught these things would have to be dropped. This would also require a firm reiteration of the canonical boundaries of the Church. Canonizing en masse many saints outside the Orthodox Church (and not a select few in Orthodoxy which may have technically been outside of the Church like Saint Isaac the Syrian, though the Nestorian union under Heraclius may have actually brought him into the Church) is not possible without adopting an innovative ecclesiology. Just as the Roman Catholic Church requires the Syro-Malabar Catholics to drop their liturgical commemorations of Nestorius and Theodore of Mopsuestia (though their liturgies, which don’t name them during the prayers, are still in use), any legitimate union with the Orthodox would require the Roman Catholic side to similarly drop nearly all, if not all, of their post-schism canonizations. Reflecting upon this, this is why I think decontextualization is the only viable key to union in modern times.

Permit me to close with some speculations concerning conciliar contextualism. What is one to make of the historical errors written by these councils (before mentioned)? Though saints like Maximus acknowledge that the Scriptures contain historical errors as well (“the text has mixed into the web of the literal account something that has no existence whatsoever,” Questions of Thallassius 48.11), this would be beside the point. Scriptures are divine revelation. If they contain a literal historical error, it is on purpose Maximus reasons (they rouse “our sluggish minds to an investigation of the truth” which are to be found in allegories, Ibid.). Conciliar fathers are not teaching allegorically nor making historical errors on purpose. However, Christ’s guarantee to the Apostles (and their successors) that they would be guided into “all truth” (John 16:13) is in reference to “the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.” (Jude 1:3) After all, God did not deliver to Saint Paul a perfect understanding of medicine (as he alleged wine cures stomach ailments in 1 Tim 5:23, though this may have been a euphemism). And so, it does not appear that God’s superintendence of events protects the saints from a scientific and historical faux pas now and then that is irrelevant to the Apostolic deposit of faith.