199ChAPtER EIGhtEEnTracing the Irenaean Legacy
Irenaeus M. C. SteenbergS
ome legacies are easier to trace than others. Athanasius of Alexandria’s role
in promulgating the creed and language of Nicaea, however one might assess
it, ensured that he was remembered, quoted, discussed, and debated for centu-
ries to follow. Exploring his influence and legacy is a project supported by rich,
extensive testimony. Elsewhere one finds similar stories. Basil of Caesarea, dying
far younger than his kin could have anticipated, was heralded at once as a great
teacher, the reflection on his writings becoming almost immediately an ecclesi-
astical project—and one that continued for centuries. After the death of Cyril of
Alexandria in ad 444 (a repose that prompted some rather memorable funeral
tributes^1 ), an almost continuous reflection on his influence—assessed both posi-
tively and negatively—began, and would carry on over the coming decades and
centuries. Appreciating his personal legacy too, if not always his personality or
precise theological contribution, is a task which history facilitates by preserving a
tremendous amount of evidence and testimony.
But when we come to Irenaeus, the story is somewhat different. He had been no
less involved in the theological conflicts and controversies of his age than these. He had
been no less a theologian of creative expression and robust articulation. He had been,
his writings would lead us to believe, no less a “personality”—prone to rather aggressive
fits of satire and mocking as much as he was ready to express the most tender emo-
tions of forgiveness and repentance, even toward his enemies. He had composed a work
unlike any other known at the time, bridging polemic and apologetic with positive doc-
trinal articulation, speaking in a voice that would earn him the reputation, in modern
study, of the “first theologian” in the patristic heritage (as odd, and probably unhelpful,
as that ascription really is). And yet there is no great or obvious Irenaean history in the
decades and generations following his death. The man whose theological expression is
today taken by many as a kind of landmark of the second century, who is described,
rightly, as “one of the most important theologians in the period before the Council of
Nicaea,”^2 is not remembered, not discussed, by his peers and successors—at least, not in
theological terms (a critical distinction, on which more to follow). Irenaeus flourishes,