The anniversary of the Nicene Creed offers us an opportunity to reflect

Telegraph

4 hours ago

Every Sunday, in churches across the country, worshippers stand to affirm that they believe in 'one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.'
For many, these words are as familiar as the Lord's Prayer – part of the shared rhythm of worship and memory that shapes Christian life across generations. They are found in the Book of Common Prayer and in the contemporary language of services like Common Worship. They have been translated into nearly every language, and set to music by William Byrd, John Merbecke, and countless others. They echo in the cadences of Cathedral Choirs and the steady voice of Radio 4's Sunday Worship. Yet their roots lie far deeper, in an extraordinary moment of theological clarity 1,700 years ago.
The Nicene Creed – as it is still commonly known – emerged from the Council of Nicaea in AD 325, the first gathering of Christian bishops from across the Roman Empire. It was a defining act of unity for a faith newly emerging from persecution and grappling with questions of identity. Was Jesus fully divine, or somehow less than God? The answer, forged through prayer, argument and no small courage, was clear and emphatic: Jesus Christ is 'God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God … of one Being with the Father'. The words mattered then, and they matter still.
The Creed was later expanded at the Council of Constantinople in 381 to take fuller account of the Holy Spirit. This revised text – the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, to give it its full title – remains the most widely recognised summary of Christian faith in the world today. Recited by Roman Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Anglicans and many Protestant churches alike, it remains a touchstone of what it means to be part of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.
What's remarkable is that these ancient words have not only endured, but remained instantly recognisable. That's due in part to the continuity of liturgical tradition, but also to something less tangible – a kind of collective memory. We know them not just in our minds, but in our whole being. For many, they inhabit the same world as the worn pages of a prayer book, the scent of wood polish on pews, or the familiar strains of a well-loved hymn. Different versions exist, with small variations of language – but the core text remains the same. For many, the Nicene Creed is inseparable from the melodies to which it has been sung. It has become part of the fabric of our ecclesial and cultural memory – words held in the heart, even if we've not paused to reflect on them for years.
And yet – as with all things familiar – there is a risk we stop hearing what we are saying. The words of the Creed can become a well-worn path our minds wander along, rather than a statement that stirs our hearts or arrests our thinking. That's why, in this 1,700th anniversary year, we have an opportunity. A moment to pause, to listen afresh, and to reflect on the extraordinary depth and beauty of what the Creed has to say to us about God.
The Nicene Creed is not a list of abstract propositions. It is a living confession of faith, hope and love. It tells the story of a world created in love, broken by sin, and redeemed through the self-giving of God in Christ. It speaks of incarnation, of suffering, of resurrection and of eternal hope. It tells us not only who God is, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, but also who we are: people formed for relationship, for worship, for belonging.
That's why this anniversary year presents such a valuable opportunity to revisit the Nicene Creed with fresh attention. One way churches and individuals are doing this is through a new set of reflections published by the Church of England, which take the Creed line by line as a prompt for prayer and theological reflection. Whether used in parish groups or private devotion, they offer a gentle invitation to sit with familiar words and explore their depth anew.
In an age where public discourse can often seem thin and fragmented, the Creed offers a depth of meaning that holds firm. It does not reduce faith to sentiment or certainty, nor does it shy away from mystery. Instead, it offers a robust yet gracious framework for belief: a faith shared, inherited, and spoken together.
Amid the dissonance of modern life the Creed does not offer easy answers. Instead, it provides a deep and steady orientation, a way of seeing ourselves and our world held within the story of God's enduring faithfulness.
The words of the Nicene Creed have been said by emperors and exiles, in grand cathedrals and tiny chapels, in moments of triumph and of suffering. As we mark 1,700 years since they were first agreed, we have the chance not only to remember them – but to recover them. To let these ancient words speak again, and to rediscover the faith that lies at their heart.