Vincent of Lérins and the Development of Christian Doctrine ()

Thomas G. Guarino, Boersma, Hans, Levering, Matthew, Hans Boersma, Matthew Levering

• Publisher: Baker Academic
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9780801049095
• eBook ISBN: 9781441240712
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christian Theology

Winner of the 2014 Paradosis Center Book Prize

The theology of Vincent of Lérins is often reduced to a memorable slogan: "We hold that faith which has been believed everywhere, always, and by everyone." Thomas Guarino argues that this "Vincentian canon" has frequently been taken out of context. This book introduces Vincent's thought and its reception in Christian history, exploring Vincent's creative and innovative understanding of the development of doctrine and showing how it informed the thought of John Henry Newman. Guarino contends that Vincent's theology contributes significantly to theology and ecumenism in the twenty-first century. The volume is the second in a series on the church fathers edited by Hans Boersma and Matthew Levering.

About the Series
The Foundations of Theological Exegesis and Christian Spirituality series critically recovers patristic exegesis and interpretation for contemporary theology and spirituality. Each volume covers a specific church father and illuminates the exegesis that undergirds the Nicene tradition.

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Key Theological Themes in the Commonitorium

Historical Considerations

Before embarking on a study of Vincent’s thought, it may be helpful to speak briefly about his influence in the history of theology. As Brunetière observes, although the Commonitorium was not entirely ignored in the Middle Ages (after all, Vincent’s work was handed down to us, unlike so many other ancient writings), the book goes unnoticed by medieval theologians. Not even in that vast collection of patristic scholarship in Thomas Aquinas’s Catena aurea does Vincent make an appearance. Indeed, for a thousand years, from the fifth to the fifteenth centuries, the Lérinian’s work goes unmentioned, enveloped by silence.[68]

But Vincent’s slim volume was rediscovered in the sixteenth century, giving rise to multiple editions and translations. Thirty-five editions of the Commonitorium appeared in the sixteenth century, and another thirteen editions (along with twenty-one translations from the Latin) appeared in the nineteenth.[69] The seventeenth-century Roman Catholic theologian Robert Bellarmine called Vincent’s short work “a golden book [libellus plane aureus]”; similarly, the nineteenth-century Tübingen thinker Johannes E. Kuhn spoke of it as a goldenes Büchlein. But these encomiums should not lead one to assume that Vincent appealed only to Roman Catholics. For centuries Protestant thinkers have proclaimed the same admiration for the Commonitorium.[70] For all Christians, Vincent represents a firm insistence on the continuous preservation of the gospel message in its purity. Continuity in fundamental principles is a sign of truth, while innovation is a sign of wavering from the clear teaching of the Bible and the apostolic tradition. Roman Catholic authors were attracted to Vincent’s accent on tradition; theologians of Reformation heritage (particularly Anglicans) ceaselessly invoked his well-known canon (semper, ubique, et ab omnibus), insisting on the strictly regulative value of the early centuries for authentic Christian doctrine. It is no surprise, then, that the young John Henry Newman, whose thought we shall examine in the following chapter, argued in his Anglican writings that Vincent’s book opens an assault on the illegitimate innovations of both Rome and Wittenberg, stating repeatedly that the Commonitorium’s demand for antiquity embodied classical Anglican principles.[71]

Despite his renown in earlier centuries, Vincent has been generally ignored by contemporary theology, even at a time when ressourcement movements of various types dominate theological reasoning. One reason for this dismissal is that the monk of Lérins has seemed to be a rather regressive figure, even something of a cranky antiquarian, constantly urging preservation rather than progress, entirely out of step with the evolutionary character of contemporary thought.

More important, Vincent’s work has been neglected because he has been exclusively connected with what has become known as his “canon” or “first rule”: Christians are to hold fast only to that which has been believed “always, everywhere, and by everyone.” If taken sensu stricto, Vincent’s criterion is useless. Almost no teaching of the Christian faith has fulfilled this rule, causing the Lutheran theologian Carl Braaten to say that Vincent’s canon “sounds strange” both because no doctrine adheres strictly to its demands and because the rule ignores the fact that doctrine itself is not a static reality.[72] Concerns quite similar to those voiced by Braaten caused antipathy to Vincent at Vatican II (1962–65), with the council’s desire to stress the living and dynamic aspects of Christian faith and doctrine. Thus the young Joseph Ratzinger, in his commentary on Dei Verbum (1965), says that Vatican II “has another conception of the nature of historical identity and continuity. Vincent de Lérins’s static semper no longer seems the right way of expressing [this] problem.”[73] Similarly, the great ecumenist Yves Congar states, “It is because the principle [Vincent’s first rule] is too static that Vatican II avoided quoting it in its constitution Dei Verbum §8.”[74] Congar had earlier made this same point about Vincent’s canon, referring to its “excessively static, not to say archaizing, character, and thus its limited validity.”[75]

Vincent’s theology has also been disdained by the great Reformed theologian Karl Barth. According to Barth, the Lérinian places entirely too heavy an accent on ecclesial tradition, thereby violating the evangelical purity of sola scriptura.[76] In fact, the theologian of Lérins strongly emphasizes the material sufficiency of sacred Scripture, with tradition as a necessary interpretative aid because of wanton and continual misinterpretations. At every turn in Vincent’s writing, it is the Bible that is always primary and foundational.

Despite this general neglect of Vincent’s thought, and at times outright opposition to it, the contention of this volume is that Vincent has much to teach Christianity today. Indeed, one intention of this book is to challenge the interpretations of Vincent bequeathed by Congar, Ratzinger, and Barth. The Lérinian’s work is not only of historical interest; it is also a living guide to understanding more clearly the dynamic tension that always exists in the church between preservation and development, and outlines well the significant resources the church possesses to ensure that any development is in full conformity with prior Christian belief. This volume is intended to show that there is much more to Vincent’s hermeneutics of doctrine than simply his endlessly cited canon. Indeed, the Vincentian canon itself must be interpreted according to the Lérinian’s broad and capacious vision of the church. It cannot simply be ripped from his text as if it had a life apart from the entire context of his subtle work.

The Commonitorium

The major issues for Vincent are these: How is the precious truth of Christianity properly conserved? How is it truly preserved even while admitting that, over the course of the four hundred years since Christ’s death (for Vincent is writing in 434), there has been some change and development in Christian belief? How can we be certain that such change leads to a greater understanding of the gospel, and not inexorably to heresy? In the church, do clear criteria exist that allow us to distinguish revealed truth from pernicious error?

To answer these questions, we will divide Vincent’s thought into three general categories:

1. The preservation of the gospel is always the foremost task of Christians.
2. The development of doctrine is possible and must be fundamentally preservative in intent.
3. Essential criteria ensure that proper development is not confused with poisonous heresy.

Under each of these numbered headings, we will treat themes integral to Vincent’s work.

1. The Preservation of Christian Truth

Vincent’s preservative instincts are deeply rooted and clearly dominate his work. These impulses lead to the common accusation that the theologian of Lérins purveys only a static model of doctrine. Throughout the Commonitorium he pleads with us, consistently citing biblical warrants: “Guard the deposit, Timothy!” “Do not trespass upon the landmarks of your fathers!” (1 Tim. 6:20; Prov. 22:28). Again and again he exhorts us not to betray the Christian faith by adhering to blasphemous innovations, which clearly are not founded in Scripture or in the apostolic tradition. For Vincent, “the faith once delivered to the saints” must be guarded and protected as the precious treasure that it is. The selfsame identity of the Christian message is under constant siege by heretical innovations, novelties that Christians must firmly resist.

The apostle Paul clearly instructs the Galatians, “If anyone preaches to you a gospel other than the one we preached, even an angel from heaven, let him be anathema” (Gal. 1:8). Reflecting on Paul’s warning, Vincent says to his readers: Perhaps some think this anathema was meant only for former times and not for the present. On the contrary, this precept must be observed by all ages. Preaching to Christians a doctrine other than what was received “never was permitted, is not permitted, and never will be permitted” (Common. 9.5).

But how does the church preserve the teaching given in the history of Israel and in Jesus of Nazareth? What are Vincent’s theological strategies for avoiding heresy and walking in the light of Christian truth?

Vincent’s Canon or First Rule (Overcoming Heresy)

Vincent’s primary theological instruction—the one with which he is always associated—is known as the Vincentian canon, or first rule. The canon states that, “in the Catholic church, all care must be taken so we hold that which has been believed everywhere, always, and by everyone” (2.5). As one commentator has observed, the brevity and vigor of this formula has assured its continued success.[77] And indeed, Vincent’s memorable words (ubique, semper, et ab omnibus) have been endlessly invoked, though usually just as quickly dismissed. Contemporary historians and theologians generally hold that Vincent’s catchy maxim represents a good attempt at fashioning a criterion for distinguishing truth from heresy, but that the slogan is rather naive, setting forth criteria that almost no Christian doctrine actually meets.[78] Some have argued that the canon raises more questions than it answers since the rule is so general as to be virtually useless.[79]

What is certainly true is that Vincent is groping for a principle that distinguishes truth from heresy. By his insistence on the threefold criteria, he is precluding wanton innovation (hence his insistence on antiquity) and the novel ideas of a few talented teachers (hence his criteria of universality and ubiquity). But before returning to the exact meaning of Vincent’s canon, we should first establish its context. Vincent tells us, Socrates-like, that he has long sought a universal rule in order to distinguish the truth of the Catholic faith from the error of heresy. But why should we need a rule? he rhetorically objects. Surely Holy Scripture itself is entirely sufficient. Indeed, he insists, Scripture is sufficient and more than sufficient: “it is complete unto itself [ad omnia satis superque sufficiat]” (2.2). However, because of the profundity of God’s Word, all do not accept it in exactly the same sense. Thus, he laments, Scripture seems to have as many interpretations as there are interpreters (2.3).[80] One needs only to glance at the long roster of heretics who have plagued the church to see the problem. Vincent then presents us with a rogues’ gallery of heretics: Donatus, Arius, Apollinaris, Pelagius, and Nestorius—to name only a few.

Because heresiarchs claim biblical support (indeed, Vincent will argue that a distinguishing mark of heretics is that they always have a thousand citations at hand), we need a rule that helps us discern proper from improper interpretations of Scripture. It is just here that the Lérinian says we can distinguish Christian truth from error by adhering to the faith that has been believed everywhere, always, and by all. Truth is that which the whole world has confessed, in continuity with the faith of our ancestors. For Vincent, only the universal consent of the church can assure that a teaching is indeed ancient and well-attested rather than local and idiosyncratic. Particular teachings can never be confined to one geographical area, to one time period, or to a small group of believers.

But two oft-forgotten elements must be accented when thinking about the meaning of Vincent’s canon. First and most important, the canon is not just about the remote past. It is true that Vincent encourages us to look to the consensus of antiquity. But when precisely is antiquity? If it begins with the apostolic age, is there a distinct terminus ad quem? No such terminus is ever invoked by Vincent. And this point is central to a proper interpretation of his theology. Vincent is thinking of antiquity—and the consensus of antiquity—in a unique way. He is not wistfully looking back to some golden age in the church, never again to be recaptured. Vincent is insisting that there already exists a way—always rooted in Scripture as the unshakable foundation—to ensure that the apostolic teaching continues unsullied. For the Lérinian, the Councils of Nicaea and Ephesus, the formal meetings of teachers gathered from the entire church, themselves represent the consentient judgment of antiquity. The first rule, then—semper, ubique, et ab omnibus—should not be understood as if it represents a utopian dream, some asymptotic (approximate) ideal, drawn from a nebulous and remote age of the church. Vincent is much more hardheaded and practical than that. He looks around at the church of his day and sees Christian truth everywhere under siege, everywhere contending with heretical interpretations, some even purveyed by notable churchmen like Nestorius. He himself resides in a monastery that has recently been a locus of heated theological controversy. To deal with these living issues, Vincent is seeking a rule that can be applied in his own time, indeed, a rule that has already been applied to great effect at the Councils of Nicaea and Ephesus.

The church, then, already has the means and authority to separate biblical truth from pernicious error. In this sense, the entire Commonitorium must be understood simply as an elongated commentary on his canon. The remainder of Vincent’s book tells us exactly what “always, everywhere, and by everyone” means and how this criterion is ecclesially instantiated. Vincent spends much of his book in answering a key question: What means do we possess to ensure that our belief is in continuity with the apostolic tradition? As he tells us early on, we adhere to antiquity if we do not discard any interpretations shared by the venerable holy ones and by our fathers (2.6).

A second essential element in interpreting the Vincentian canon is that his first rule must always be taken in conjunction with the Lérinian’s “second rule”: over time, growth undoubtedly occurs in Christian doctrine. Yet he adds the proviso that such growth is always protective of the meaning found in earlier formulations of the faith. This is why Vincent insists that any further doctrinal understanding must always be “according to the same doctrine, the same meaning, and the same judgment [in eodem scilicet dogmate, eodem sensu, eademque sententia]” (23.3) as existed in prior articulations of Christian teaching. We shall discuss this second rule at greater length. For the moment, it is enough to say that the Vincentian canon should never be read outside of its context. And its context always includes the possibility of proper development over time. The Christian church possesses the ability, not simply in the past, but also today—in Vincent’s own time—to ensure that the faith is carefully husbanded. These two elements—that the canon is not just about the remote past and that it allows for proper development—are too often ignored when the first rule is ripped out of its context and is therefore understood in a truncated and ultimately mistaken way.

We shall return to Vincent’s precise understanding of his canon, but let us first examine some of his arguments for ensuring that the faith entrusted to the church is properly preserved, not altered or distorted by poisonous innovations.

Selected Biblical Indications on Preserving Christian Faith

O Timothy, guard the depo...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Series Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Series Preface
• Acknowledgments
• Preface
• Introduction
• 1. Key Theological Themes in the Commonitorium
• 2. The Theological Reception of Vincent of Lérins
• 3. The Enduring Ecumenical Importance of Vincent of Lérins
• Notes
• Index
• Back Cover