The Odes of Solomon consist of forty-two short poems. Their provenance, date, and original language are all disputed. At least some of the Odes must have been written before the third century since Ode 11 is found in Greek in Papyrus Bodmer XI, which is datable to the third century, and since Lactantius (ca. 240–ca. 320) includes a quotation of Ode 19 in Latin translation in his Divinarum Institutionum (IV.xii.3). Parts of five odes (1.1–5, 5.1–11, 6.8–18, 22.1–12, and 25.1–12) are also found in Coptic translation in the Pistis Sophia, which is preserved in a single Coptic manuscript, probably from the fourth or fifth century, though scholars think the Pistis Sophia itself goes back to the third or fourth century. The Syriac tradition preserves the most complete witness to the Odes of Solomon, albeit in later manuscripts: Odes 17–42 are extant in a Syriac manuscript datable to the tenth century, and Odes 3–42 in a Syriac manuscript datable to the fifteenth to seventeenth century.

Little is known with certainty about the life of Tertullian, who authored some of the very earliest Christian literature written in Latin. He was from the city of Carthage in Roman North Africa, and his literary career in this city spanned from roughly 196 to 212; he was perhaps born around 170. From the few scattered comments he made about his own life, we learn that he was raised as a pagan, and became a Christian under unknown circumstances. Most scholars now doubt other details about Tertullian’s life which come from later sources, such as Jerome’s belief that his father was a Roman centurion, and Eusebius’s suggestion that he was a lawyer in his pre-Christian career. One further point from Jerome about Tertullian’s life likewise requires cautious treatment. This is the claim that Tertullian in middle age “lapsed” away from the catholic church into Montanism, a revivalist movement of Christianity established in the second century and eventually branded as heretical.1 Though Tertullian’s later works do show increasing signs of Montanism, it is impossible to divide up his career neatly into catholic and Montanist phases, as previous generations of scholars tended to do.

Ignatius, bishop of Antioch in Syria, penned seven letters while being escorted under guard to Rome for execution during the reign of Trajan (98–117 CE). No explicit evidence confirms that he reached the imperial capital, but there is no reason to doubt the tradition that he was martyred there. These letters illuminate numerous aspects of early Christian life and thought, providing as well insight into their author’s concerns. Since the seventeenth century these letters have been included in the collection of early Christian writings known as the Apostolic Fathers. Three matters above all repeatedly surface in these letters: (1) Ignatius’s struggle against those whose teaching differed from his own; (2) his pleas for the unity of the church by communion with and obedience to the bishop; and (3) his own suffering and impending death and their meaning, which he interprets in Christological categories.

Diodore of Tarsus was an influential Christian teacher and writer about whom we know very little. Born in Antioch at some point in the early fourth century, he was trained first in theology by Silvanus (later bishop of Tarsus) and then in traditional writing and interpretation techniques in Athens. Upon his return to Antioch, Diodore became an interpreter of scripture and a teacher of interpretation in the Christian community of his native city, and, along with his friend Flavian, he embraced the ascetical life. Both Diodore and Flavian were ordained presbyters in Antioch by Meletius in the early 360s, indicating their pro-Nicene sympathies in the fractured church of that city. In the years 362–363 Emperor Julian encountered Diodore in Antioch and ridiculed him in a letter (Ep. 55). Ancient historians also report that Diodore and another man, Carterius, headed an institution where other Christians studied; it has frequently been called a “monastery” by historians, but it is perhaps more descriptive to call it a school, as reading and learning seem to have been the primary activities. Among its students were both Theodore of Mopsuestia1 and John Chrysostom, themselves influential thinkers in late ancient Christian culture.

The Ekthesis had made monothelitism imperial orthodoxy in 638 and remained in force under Constans II, who assumed the throne in 641. While this doctrine was apparently popular in some regions, it faced stern opposition from North Africa, whither Maximus and his companions had fled and whence they mounted a dyothelite insurgency. Anti-imperial fervor even inspired the North African exarch Gregory in 646/7 to proclaim himself emperor against Constans II. Faced with this emergency, in 647/8 Paul, the patriarch of Constantinople, in the name of Constans II, published a compromise document known as the Typos, which in this context means something like “general instruction.” This document replaced the Ekthesis that had previously hung in the narthex of the Great Church. The Typos forbade all discussion of Christ’s activities and wills, aiming to set the clock back to the time of the fifth ecumenical council (553). However, a synod the following year (649) at the Lateran in Rome rejected both the Typos and the Ekthesis, which led to a major clash between imperial forces, on one side, and Martin of Rome, Maximus the Confessor, and their allies, on the other.

Eusebius of Dorylaeum was a fifth-century bishop and a prominent theologian. Trained in legal practice, he became a distinguished rhetorician in Constantinople. His significant erudition earned him esteem at the imperial court. While still a layperson, Eusebius became the first person to contest Nestorius, the newly installed archbishop of Constantinople, in order to defend the title Theotokos for the Virgin Mary. When Nestorius challenged the theological propriety of the title, Eusebius confronted him in church. Cyril of Alexandria recounted the incident as follows:

John of Damascus wrote two polemical works against the East Syrians, whom he differentiated from the West Syrians as “Nestorian.” The West Syrians, who rejected the Council of Chalcedon (451), conflated John’s pro-Chalcedonian position with that of the East Syrians, and thus referred to both those condemned at the Council of Ephesus (431) and those who accepted Chalcedon as “Nestorian.” John’s argument here is primarily focused on contradicting the East Syrians, but he seems also to be differentiating his party from theirs, having the more prevalent and powerful West Syrians in view. The argument of the longer of these two polemics, Against the Nestorians (CPG 8053), is centered on scripture and patristic authority; whereas that of the shorter, On the Faith against the Nestorians (CPG 8054), is more theological, although it does employ scripture (in certain sections) to a greater extent than his On Composite Nature against the Leaderless (CPG 8051).

The first eight chapters of Irenaeus’s Against Heresies (1.1–8) contain the oldest surviving account of Valentinian Gnosticism.1 No account has influenced ancient and modern understandings of Valentinian Gnosticism more than this one. Irenaeus, however, does not here relate Valentinus’s own thought. He provides, rather, a theological account circulating amongst Valentinians near the Rhône who considered themselves followers of the influential Valentinian named Ptolemaeus (Ptolemy).2 Irenaeus states (Against Heresies 1.pref.2) that his account draws upon conversations held with these Ptolemaic Valentinians as well as written sources obtained from them. But the particular author of these written sources and the relative importance of these writings to this group of Valentinians remains unknown.

Sometime in the late second century a Christian theologian wrote this brief exposition of the true meaning of resurrection. Adopting the form of the didactic epistle, the unknown author addresses his remarks to an individual named Rheginos, who himself is also otherwise unknown. From the contents of the treatise we may infer that the author has been asked to supply a defense for the “advanced” position that resurrection for believers in Christ takes the form of a spiritual transformation, experienced by the intellects of those predestined to be saved, perhaps even in this lifetime. Neither the fleshly body nor its animating soul survives physical death, whereas the spirit-mind of the believer departs this material plane of existence for return to the heavenly realm called “the Fullness” (plērōma).

The Council of Chalcedon affirmed that Leo’s Tome to Flavian of Constantinople was in harmony with the creeds of Nicaea and Constantinople and the conciliar letters of Cyril – but not without controversy. Some bishops criticized three passages in the Tome for emphasizing the duality of natures in Christ, which seemed to them to come alarmingly close to the “Nestorian” tendency to divide the natures in Christ so much that they acted and experienced independently of each other. These objections were eventually resolved at Chalcedon, enabling the bishops to acclaim the Tome as a definition of orthodoxy and to commend it in the Definition of Faith they produced as a “confirmation of right doctrines.” But those opposed to the decisions of Chalcedon continued to regard Leo’s Tome to Flavian as tainted by “Nestorianism.”

Eutyches (ca. 378–454) became a polarizing figure in the post-Cyrillian Christological debates leading up to the Council of Chalcedon in 451. A monk since his youth, Eutyches was eventually ordained a presbyter and around 410 became an archimandrite of a monastery outside the walls of Constantinople. At the Council of Ephesus in 431 he emerged as part of Cyril of Alexandria’s circle of supporters and a fierce opponent of Nestorius. Unexpectedly, however, on November 8, 448, when the Home Synod of Constantinople was in session, presided over by Archbishop Flavian, Bishop Eusebius of Dorylaeum accused Eutyches of heresy. The proceedings against the archimandrite were conducted over the course of seven sessions, concluding with his deposition on November 22. The acts of this synod offer a rare glimpse into the debate over Eutyches, allowing the reader to observe the bishops and Eutyches in action as the former prosecute their case and the latter attempts to thwart their efforts. The acts also are a precious record of the archimandrite’s views, which are difficult to reconstruct because his extant writings are few, short, and theologically sparse.

The surviving body of writings from Augustine includes a large corpus of letters, most from his time as bishop of Hippo in his native North Africa. The letters, which include briefs to as well as from Augustine, cover a remarkable range of topics. Letter 137 is part of a fascinating dossier of letters from around 412 between Augustine and the talented young aristocrat Rufus Antonius Agrypnius Volusianus. Volusian, as we will call him, was the son of the famous Christian patroness Melania the Elder, but not himself a Christian. He did not hesitate to share his doubts about Christian teaching with Augustine, who must have been his senior by at least thirty years. At one particular meeting of young aristocrats, which Augustine mentions in Letter 137, Volusian encountered objections to the Christian doctrine of the incarnation, which he vowed to forward to Augustine for a reply.1 The main issue Volusian notes is the seeming incongruity in the doctrine, which posits that the ruler of heaven was confined in the tiny body of an infant and underwent the ordinary experiences of a human being.

The magnum opus of John of Damascus is The Fount of Knowledge, a trilogy consisting of The Philosophical Chapters (aka Dialectica, CPG 8041), On Heresies (CPG 8044), and the dogmatic part, An Exact Exposition of the Orthodox Faith (CPG 8043). From its appearance it has been considered a monumental achievement, and it is sometimes referred to as the first summa theologica. Translated here are two chapters from the Exposition: a short chapter (57=Exposition III 13) on the properties of the two natures of Christ, and a longer chapter (58=Exposition III 14) on the two wills of Christ. The two wills remained a live issue for the Jerusalem church for a number of reasons. In 685 a delegation was sent by the Chalcedonian leadership of Syro-Palestine (ostensibly from Jerusalem, but Jerusalem had no bishop at this time and the leadership resided in Damascus) to Constantinople to acknowledge acceptance of the Council of Constantinople (680–681).

Narsai was foundational for the development of theology in the Church of the East. At the School of Nisibis, the intellectual center for the Church of the East, his writings supported theologians whose dyophysite Christological formulations were at odds with the Chalcedonian and miaphysite positions regnant within the territories of the Roman Empire. Thus the need arose to defend Narsai against his detractors.

Jacob of Serugh (ca. 451–521) was a miaphysite (Syrian Orthodox) bishop of Serugh (modern-day Batnan) in Turkey, southwest of Edessa. In the West Syriac tradition Jacob is the most celebrated poet-theologian after Ephrem the Syrian and is called the “Flute of the Holy Spirit and the Harp of the Church.” He is renowned for having written a large number of metrical homilies in Syriac, known as memre (sing. memra), nearly 400 of which are extant. These exegetical poems treat a wide range of theological topics, including exegesis, hagiography, asceticism, and liturgy. The metrical poem gave theologians like Jacob a creative and memorable way to teach the faithful about divine mysteries such as the incarnation or the relationship of Christ’s humanity and divinity. Jacob’s homilies reveal his skill as a poet-exegete as well as his pastoral sense.