The Schools of Antioch and Alexandria
"The Scriptures are like a great treasure house, filled with wealth for those who search them diligently." - Theodore of Antioch
When I entered holy service in 1982 there were eleven theological seminaries and divinity schools1 in The Episcopal Church. Of those, two were considered the best (by their faculties and graduates, naturally).
One is The General Theological Seminary in New York City [founded in 1817], the Church’s oldest seminary and the flagship for the rest. It is located in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan on the site of Chelsea Square, the original home of The Rev. Clement Clarke Moore, author of the poem best known as “Twas the Night Before Christmas”.
The other is Virginia Theological Seminary in Alexandria [founded in 1823]. If General is the oldest, Virginia is the most fiscally solvent. It is located an easy journey from Washington D.C. where much of the bureaucratic power of The State is concentrated.
As it is with professional schools, each has its own personality. General is considered “high church” in its liturgical standard, emphasizing the traditional gravitas of the historic church. In my day, the seminary owned one of the few remaining original copies of the Gutenberg Bible, hosted a variety of theological and ecclesial conferences featuring the high holy rollers of mainstream Christianity, and at one point could boast that one out every eleven graduates was an elected bishop.
Virginia, which calls itself “The Seminary” for reasons both Southern and bizarre, represents a “low church” flavor in its practices and, like General, uses its location to its advantage, in this case in the nation’s capital.
General serves under the authority of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, the largest cathedral in Christendom; Virginia under the Cathedral of St. Peter and St. Paul, better known as the Washington National Cathedral.
If Virginia could boast of a Pulitzer Prize winner on its faculty, General could boast of a Nobel prize winner. If innovative liturgies would be produced by Virginia, General could be counted on to shape this innovation so that it would make sense. General would offer liturgies hallowed by tradition, Virginia would find ways to make them open and accessible.
To this day, graduates of the respective institutions tend to jokingly [?] sneer at one another when in common council. I recall once folding a veil over the chalice in a fussy way at the conclusion of a liturgy when the bishop with whom I was serving muttered, “Oh, you went to General.”
I responded, “I thought I better do it correctly since you went to Virginia.”2
Rivalry between schools is so antique in the church that it informs the way we interpret the Bible, practice the liturgy, and write theology.
It also lead to the church’s first schism in 1054.
The two original schools of theological learning were those of Antioch, in what is modern-day Türkiye3, and Alexandria in Egypt. Both schools produced the great theologians of the early church and, by extension, continue to persuade our thinking about scripture, the relationship of the human and divine in the nature of Jesus Christ, and the practices that bring us closer to God.
While neither of these centers of learning were schools in a style recognized in the 21st century, as they did not have buildings in need of maintenance, a bloated administration, nor alumni organizations rabid for donations, they did have a collection of teachers and students with a recognized voice in the early church.
Antioch was “founded” in the early 2nd century. As it was the educational system closest to the world of the apostles, it is the most representative of the intellectual Christianity of that era, as Antiochene clergy and other thinkers tended to accept Holy Scripture as literal, or at least without literary nuance.
As the contribution of Christianized Jews was primary in the region, the school of Antioch was tenderly conscious of emphasizing the historical context of scripture and Biblical events.
However, the overriding point of divergence in the early church concerned the nature of Jesus Christ. Much of academic purpose was spent on determining how the Divine and the Human were co-mingled in his Being.
In this ongoing deliberation, the school of Antioch tended to favor the human portion of Jesus, his emotions, his mortality, his pain and blood. Antioch viewed the Eucharistic feast as the best manner in which to interpenetrate with Jesus as the sacrament fed one’s body both spiritually and literally.
"Nothing is so great as the Eucharist; there is nothing greater than to partake of the body and blood of Christ. It is not a mere symbol, but a reality, the very body and blood of Christ."4
St. John Chrysostom (c. 347–407) is perhaps the best known member of the school of Antioch, especially as his theology tended to be practical in avoiding sentimental reasoning. Using his sermons and written work, Antioch emphasized the Incarnation, that is, God present in Jesus.
"Do you wish to honor the body of Christ? Do not ignore him when he is naked. Do not pay him homage in the temple with silken garments, while neglecting him outside, where he is suffering from cold and hunger."5
Incarnational theology also recognizes the dire reality of sin with an appreciation of grace and our potential for reconciliation.6
Towards the middle of the 2nd century, the school of Alexandria began to take form in the more diversified philosophical center of Egypt. Influenced as that region was by the Greeks, the intellectually dominant culture even as late as the 13th century,7 and filled with new Christians unfamiliar with the Jewish foundation of early Christian ethos, Alexandria presented a more differentiated perspective.
"The true Christian is a philosopher, and the true philosopher is a Christian."8
As the Alexandrians were drawing on the rich literary tradition of the Greeks, they approached the interpretation of scripture in a manner that was allegorical, striving to gaze more deeply into the symbolism that undergirded Jesus’ teaching and holy actions.
As part of this approach, the Alexandrian school tended to look more at the divine aspect of The Christ, rather than the human experience of Jesus. There was less about blood and high emotion, and more about Resurrection and Ascension.
"The Christian should live as a citizen of heaven, not as one bound by the flesh, but as one who has his mind on the things above."9
To illustrate, Clement of Alexandria (c. 150–215), is considered to be the foundational representative of Alexandrian theology. He sought to integrate philosophy and faith, suggesting that even Plato can prepare one for the Gospel.
Clement argued that the Greek philosophers had some knowledge of the truth, though they lacked the fullness of revelation found in Christ. Through this “Christian Platonism”, Clement revealed how philosophical inquiry could lead one towards a deeper understanding of God.
To place a Gospel frame around these respective approaches, consider The Gospel of Mark, with its succinct reportage of the events in the life of Jesus, ending as it does without any Resurrection appearances. This would have been the Gospel representative of the Antiochene view, as the narrative concludes with the mortal death of Jesus.
Then regard The Gospel of Luke, with its lyrical narrative of the Nativity and its fuller appreciation of the reactions of the apostles, as the book favored by the Alexandrians.10 Even its ending is starkly different, as Resurrection is particularly marked by Christ’s appearance to the pilgrims on the road to Emmaus, the dramatic revelation of his wounds in the locked room, and the Ascension.
Luke’s concentration then favors the aspects of the Divine in the nature of the Christ.
So, in general, Antioch leaned towards an historical approach, while Alexandria favored allegorical interpretations. Thus, Antioch emphasized the humanity of Jesus; Alexandria concentrated on the divinity of Christ.
However, both schools created the intellectual structure of Christianity, as both sought to articulate Christianity’s perpetual relevance in addressing contemporary cultural issues and deeper philosophical questions. This ensured that Christianity had a logical, educated response to the challenges and heresies that it would face.
As the centuries evolved, and no doubt as much due to their geographical location as their philosophical, the Antiochene view would be influential in The Church of Constantinople, which is the contemporary Eastern Orthodox Church, and the Alexandrian in The Church of Rome [and subsequently, much of what is The Church of Canterbury, or Anglicanism].
These two views would contribute to the debates and arguments that shaped our faith, from the doctrine of the Trinity to the way in which we view the sacrament. They would be the reason for the first four ecumenical councils of the Christian Church, the gatherings that refined our theology and lead to the composition of The Nicene Creed, a clear belief statement built around an equally clear witness.
One cannot possibly understand the teaching of the saints unless one has a pure mind and is trying to imitate their life.11
However, this bifurcated vision would lead to the split between the Western and Eastern churches shortly after Christianity’s first millennium, an event that continued to highlight the varied paths on which one could come to revelation, as well as the continuing need for ecumenical conversation.
[We will be discussing the process that lead to The Nicene Creed’s composition and The Great Schism soon. It’ll be interesting, I promise.]
In addition to General and Virginia, the remaining schools in the 1980’s were Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass.; Seabury-Western Theological School in Evanston, Illinois; Church Divinity School of the Pacific in Berkeley, California; Sewanee School of Theology in Tennessee; Bexley Hall in Rochester, N.Y.; The Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas; Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry in Pittsburgh, Penn.; Berkeley Divinity School at Yale; and Nashotah House in Wisconsin.
Comments such as this may explain my career arc.
The Turkish government [i.e. their dictatorial president] prefers Türkiye instead of Turkey because he was bored one day it emphasizes their historical identity. I think. The explanation seems to change from time to time.
Homily 82, from St. John Chrysostom
Homily 50, from Chrysostom
“Grace is God's favor towards us, unearned and undeserved; by grace God forgives our sins, enlightens
our minds, stirs our hearts, and strengthens our wills.” - from The Catechism, page 858 of The Book of Common Prayer
Interestingly, the great apologist for Aristotle is a Christian saint, Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274).
from The Stromata by Clement
from Paedagogus by Clement
No surprise, really, as Luke himself was an Alexandrian, or at least wrote in their literary style.
from On the Incarnation of the Word of God by Athanasius of Alexandria
Thank you so much for sharing this history! Very interesting to hear the difference in views and how they evolved over time. I also like the idea that different perspectives are being taught in different schools, perhaps allowing for indivduals to find that which spoke to them most.