On the small table in the corner of my office at Westminster there is an icon of the man who became known simply as `The Theologian,' Gregory of Nazianzus, one of the most important Christian thinkers of the later fourth century.  The icon is, of course, a classic piece of Orthodox artwork: Gregory, with his full beard, balding head, and halo, looks rather like every other church leader I have ever seen represented in such an icon.   This is not because the iconographer was simply not very good or a man of limited imagination; in fact, the opposite is the case, with the iconographer clearly knowing his chosen idiom very well.  The portrait is the way it is because an icon is an artistic representation not simply of a particular person but also of a particular theology; and Gregory, as a hero of the Eastern Orthodox, was an advocate, among other things, for a view of salvation that focused on theosis, the process by which individuals ascend to God through an increasing participation in God.  The lack of individuality in icons is therefore a commentary on, for want of a better word, the sanctification of the subject: as the person grows closer to God, they come to reflect his image more.  To the iconographer, it is this, and not the person's individuality, which is the centre of attention.

Rising to prominence in the 360s and 370s, Gregory was one of a trio of theologians, know for convenience as the Cappadocian Fathers, that also included the brothers, Gregory of Nyssa and Basil of Caesarea.  Along with Athanasius, they were key to the triumph of Trinitarianism; and, as a powerful, innovative foursome, they were a kind of patristic Led Zeppelin: no weak link -- very rare in four man rock bands; perhaps even rarer in four man theological teams.

Gregory was born ca. 329 into an elite family in Cappadocia in modern day Turkey, where his father, Gregory the Elder, was bishop of Nazianzus.  He had an exceptional education and, until his ordination (by his father) in 362, taught rhetoric. At around this time, a collaborative friendship with Basil developed, and the two of them collected excerpts from the writings of Origen, the third century father who,among other things, laid the foundations for later Trinitarianism through his discussion of the eternal generation of the Son.

The friendship of Basil and Gregory became strained after the former appointed the latter as bishop of Sasima, a backwater, in a move to squeeze pro-Arian bishops in his locale.  In his funeral oration for Gregory, Basil indicated that Gregory had considered this move a betrayal of their friendship.

When his parents died in 374, Gregory refused to succeed his father as bishop of Nazianzus  and withdrew from public life to the monastery of St.Thecla in Seleucia until, in 379, he took over the Nicene congregation in Constantinople.  the following year he was made bishop of the city but resigned in 381in protest at opposition he experienced while presiding over the Council of Constantinople (where the creed most know as the Nicene Creed was formulated and adopted).   Always a bit of a self-pitying whinger, it is likely that the opposition he received was somewhat deserved.  Nobody likes sitting on a committee with a whiner, after all.

He then acted as bishop of Nazianzus until 384, when he finally retired, to devote his last years to writing, especially poetry and his letters.  He died in 390.

After Augustine, we probably know as much about Gregory as of any of the early Fathers, for his writings are full of personal information.  Unfortunately for him, he also suffered from self-pity, hypochondria and what we might today term `anger management issues.'  Indeed, some his sermons are quite hilarious for the way in which they are used to settle old scores.   Anyone reading this who is, like myself, a fan of the 1990s Irish comedy, Father Ted, will remember the `Priest of the Year Award,' where Ted uses his thank you speech as he picks up his `Golden Cleric' as an opportunity to settle old scores with all of his enemies since seminary.  Well, our Greg got there first.   Oration 42 is a classic example -- allegedly a sermon; in actual fact a histrionic rebuke to the bishops at the Council of Constantinople for treating him so badly  that he never delivered it makes it rather like those emails everyone occasionally writes, to purge their system, but never actually sends; that, these hundreds of years later it makes him look like a pompous, self-pitying twit is surely a warning to us all not to parade our fantasies of self-importance too prominently on the web.

Sheer personal disagreeability and navel-gazing self-absorption aside, Gregory did play a critical role in the establishment of Trinitarian orthodoxy and thus we all owe him a  debt of gratitude.  As Athanasius managed to forge alliances in the 360s that were to prove vital, so the Cappodocia Three  were instrumental in bring the debate to a close, both with their careful work on fine-tooling the necessary language for Trinitarian expression and in their defense of the deity of the Spirit (a matter on which Gregory played a particularly important role) .

In addition, Gregory wrote also on the nature of theology, and of the Christian ministry.  It is to these I wish to turn in my next post.