The entire exercise is a redwash by the cardinals in their crimson robes to continue the status quo. It is as if they got together and decided on what were the least possible actions they could take to give the appearance of change while actually doing nothing.
For the second edition update of Manifest Insanity, I added detailed content on the political and literary background behind the rise of Islam. Given that this is an obscure topic for most of the general public, I have excerpted it here with hyperlinks to the references made.
“There are two interesting points about the Council of Chalcedon. The first relates to the on-going political interventions of the emperors to influence the trinitarian formulae at the various Councils. As the Council was debating the precise dual nature of Jesus, one of the issues that was argued involved a Christological concept that became known as Nestorianism; named after the Archbishop of Constantinople who had been denounced as a heretic and removed from office at Ephesus in 431, and died the year before Chalcedon. Nestorius had rejected the title of God-bearer given to Mary at Ephesus; and counter to the Ephesian formulation of a single substance, he advocated for the idea that Jesus had two separate and distinct natures, divine and human, seeking to find the middle ground between the factions who believed God had been incarnated as a human and those who believed it was impossible for God to be born.
“Oxford University Professor of the History of the Church—and with a title like that he knows what he’s talking about—Diarmaid MacCulloch, hosted a brilliant and comprehensive six-part BBC documentary in 2009 called, A History of Christianity. In the first episode, The First Christianity, Professor MacCulloch wryly commented on the situation:
The emperor must have breathed a sigh of relief. Empires longed for unity, inconveniently for them, Christians repeatedly valued truth rather more. One hundred years later, in 428, a clever but tactless scholar was appointed the new bishop of Constantinople. Nestorius. Bishop Nestorius wasted little time in plunging the church into a fresh quarrel about the nature of Jesus. It would end the unity of the church once and for all, and in the process consolidate Eastern Christianity as a distinct and formidable force. . . .
. . . But, Nestorius’s supporters remained, and so, once again, a Roman emperor was left fearing that his state would fracture. He had to call yet more councils. Eventually, in 451, the bishops of the empire gathered just across the straits from Constantinople for another landmark council in church history. The Council of Chalcedon met to define the future of Christian faith. The Council . . . tried to do what all emperors want: to sign up everyone to a middle-of-the-road settlement. When you do that, it always helps to have a few troops around. So, the council decreed a compromise.
In essence, it backed Nestorius’s oil and water emphasis, that whilst here on Earth, Christ, the divine and human being, was ‘recognized in two natures, without confusion, without change.’ But in a nod to Cyril’s followers, it straight away added ‘without division, without separation.’ And that compromise is how the Churches which descend from the emperor’s Christianity—the Catholic, Protestant, and Orthodox—have understood the mystery of Jesus ever since. . . .
. . . The losers at the Council of Chalcedon refused to fall into line; it was a watershed. Imperial and non-imperial Christianity would never be reconciled. Instead, something new happened. The church split for the first time, something that would happen many more times in its history. The imperial Church now found itself focused solely on the Mediterranean—it had no choice; Eastern Christians were not going to be pushed around by the emperor. But unlike their Western cousins, Christians in the East would now have to survive in the midst of hostile and alien religions, without the backing of an emperor.
“This split between the Eastern and imperial Chalcedonian Christians of the Mediterranean became known as the Chalcedonian Schism. Those with dissenting views split off to found churches that became known as the Oriental Orthodox Churches, such as the Syriac Orthodox Church in Antioch, or the one in Alexandria, Egypt which subsequently became known as the Coptic Orthodox Church. Of course, followers of the Oriental Orthodox Churches do not recognize the legitimacy of Chalcedon, and its denunciations of their determining ideologue, Nestorius.
“This schism led to the second interesting point, that being Chalcedon’s indirect influence on the rise of Islamic doctrines. Professor MacCulloch went on to note: ‘Nestorius died in exile in Egypt, but his supporters helped build the Church independent of both imperial Christianity and the Syriac Orthodox Church. They based their headquarters further east, in modern Iraq. They called themselves, appropriately, the Church of the East.’ These migrating Christians settled in the Sassanid, or Neo-Persian, Empire where the followers of Nestorius came to influence Mohammad’s understanding of Judeo-Christian monotheism.
Peter von Sivers, professor of history at the University of Utah, in a 2017 lecture at Brigham Young University titled, Islamic Origins, noted:
The Lakhmids were part of the Eastern Arabs. Their king converted in 594 to Nestorian Christianity. . . . Now, he converted to Nestorianism, and then one of the sources says once he had converted, he chased the Jacobites from the provinces. So, in other words, only Nestorians now remained in the east among the Eastern Arabs. . . . Now, the Eastern Arabs had established their form of Christianity as dominant in the eastern steppe. . . .
“O People of the Scripture, do not commit excess in your religion or say about Allah except the truth. The Messiah Jesus, the Son of Mary, was but a Messenger of Allah and His Word which He directed to Mary and a soul from Him. So believe in Allah and his messengers. And do not say “Three;” desist—it is better for you.” Koran 4:171
. . . The Koran is actually very friendly towards both Jacobism, Monophysitism, and Nestorianism; and in fact, in many ways, comes out of Nestorianism. . . .
. . . Mohammad is actually not really a name. It literally means “the praised one,” and is probably, therefore, then the notation for that particular sage, scribe, or other person who worked on the various parts that eventually came together and made up the Koran, participating in a collective scholarly reworking of all Christian traditions in order to come up with this notion that Mohammad is really the last prophet and not Jesus. . . .
. . . I mentioned this idea here of convergence, so in other words, if you know about these Christian roots that Islam has—Islam did not emerge sui generis out of the revelations that Mohammad received on a mountain near Mecca. . . . So, we do not even know who revealed the Koran. All we know is that of what we talk about as the revelation of the Koran was the communal work of scribes who were deeply steeped in all of the scriptures of Christianity, including all the non-canonical ones of previous centuries, and put together what we can maybe call a concordance of all of the Christian writings; this is the original meaning of Islam, by the way. . . .
. . . I would say: look now, there are Christian roots and these roots, furthermore, appear in the Koran in mostly convergent form, so that there is actually a lot of commonality between Christianity and Islam. And if you are willing, then we count you Muslims among those who inherited the common concordance heritage of Judaism and Christianity; even though Christianity within itself was, of course, deeply conflicted. So, we are heirs of all three things, and so the Muslim—the Islamic Koranic revelation—is therefore just another version of the revelatory tradition that comes out of the Middle East. . . .
. . . We cannot use the Islamic tradition anymore. Let me give you the example: the Mohammad biography, the so-called sīra, was composed, the final version, in 823. That is for the first time the source where we then learn about Mohammad was born in 570, he grew up in Mecca, he has his first revelations in 610, and so on and so forth. Among ourselves, if we open ourselves to what the Christians had to say about the rise of Islam in the 600s, like I did here in my presentation, then we would come to the conclusion the origins of Islam can be nicely compared to what Christianity was all about in the 500s, and all of the problems that it experienced; you see them continued here in the origins of Islam.
“Holy Christopher!” Mr. Hand blurted out. “I had no idea Islam was so closely related to Christianity.”
“You, and about two or three billion other Christians, Jews, and Muslims. A little insight goes a long way; it’s a shame no one ever takes the time to disarm their prejudices about other religions.”
From Schweizer’s book, The Quest of the Historical Jesus, a selection of quotes which devastatingly skewer historical Christianity and close-minded theologians. This, from a dedicated Christian, who, following in the example of Jesus and his second commandment, “Love thy neighbour”, established a medical mission in Africa to help the less fortunate.
“Few authors in modern times can be said to have redirected the course of an entire field of study. In 1906, Albert Schweitzer did.
Schweitzer did not think that the historical Jesus shared the problems or perspectives of the twentieth century. Instead, Jesus was a first-century apocalypticist, who never expected that there would be a twentieth century.
His basic emphases — that Jesus is to be situated in the context of first-century Palestinian Judaism and that he was himself an apocalypticist — have carried the day for much of the twentieth century, at least among critical scholars devoted to examining the evidence.”