Latest news with #Arius
National Geographic
4 days ago
- General
- National Geographic
How the Council of Nicaea changed Christianity forever
Icon depicting the Emperor Constantine and the fathers of the Council of Nicaea of 325 with the Greek text of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed of 381 in its liturgical form. Artist unknown. Photograph by Signal Photos/Alamy Stock Photo This May marks 1,700 years since the convening of what is arguably the most important and influential council in Christian history. For three months in 325 CE, Emperor Constantine gathered hundreds of bishops from across the empire in Nicaea, on the northern coast of what is now Turkey. The resulting statement of belief—the Nicene Creed—was the first official declaration of Christian faith and remains foundational for Christians around the world to this day. Attend Sunday school or a Christian church of nearly any denomination, and you will encounter principles derived from the Nicene Creed. The debate The task of the council was enormous: to establish correct Christian doctrine, fix the date of Easter, define episcopal jurisdictions, and devise protocols for addressing local schisms and dissent. But the most urgent matter under discussion at the council concerned the teachings of Arius, a prominent presbyter from Alexandria who had come into conflict with his bishop, Alexander of Alexandria. Despite common misrepresentations, both Arius and Alexander affirmed that Jesus was the Son of God and divine. Both agreed—following the opening of the Gospel of John—that Jesus was present at the creation of the universe. Their disagreement did not concern whether Jesus was divine, but rather the manner of that divinity and his relationship to God the Father. Arius contended that 'there was a time when [Jesus] was not'—a brief, primordial moment in which the Son did not yet exist. This view implied that Jesus was subordinate to the Father, or at least that the Son's divinity was contingent on that of the Father. Alexander, by contrast, asserted that Jesus had eternally coexisted with God the Father and was fully equal to him. The First Council of Nicaea as depicted by Italian painter Cesare Nebbia (1536-1614), on display at the Vatican Museums, Rome. Photograph by Album/Alamy Stock Photo Underlying this theological dispute were key philosophical concepts drawn from Greek thinkers such as Plato. If the Father and the Son were too unified, as Alexander and his successor Athanasius argued, then the suffering experienced by the Son during the crucifixion would also have been experienced by God—an impossibility according to Platonic philosophy. On the other hand, if they were too separate, as Arius proposed, then Christianity appeared to abandon its monotheistic roots and embrace multiple deities. Each side emphasized a different concern about the nature of God. At the council, representatives of each faction proposed a different term to express the relationship between the Father and the Son. Arius and his supporters favored homoiousios—meaning 'of a similar substance'—while Alexander's camp insisted on homoousios, or 'of the same substance.' Remarkably, the entire controversy hinged on the inclusion of a single Greek letter, iota—giving rise to the expressions 'an iota of difference' or 'a jot of difference.' (What archaeology can tell us about Jesus' crucifixion) The Emperor weighs in Constantine himself had a fairly tenuous grasp of the philosophical and theological nuances of the debate. At one point, according to his biographer Eusebius of Caesarea, he complained that the dispute was a fight 'over small and quite minute points.' Why, then, did he bother to convene such an expensive and time-consuming meeting? Roman emperors had long maintained that concord and uniform religious practices were essential to the success and stability of the empire. Constantine spent much of his career using force to reunify a divided realm; he could not tolerate discord within the Church. As renowned historian of early Christianity Paula Fredriksen puts it in her recently published book Ancient Christianities, Constantine and church leaders agreed that 'proper religion should be unanimous, the identity of and unity of the true church unambiguous.' Division in the church, Constantine said, was worse than war. (Why Orthodox Christians celebrate Christmas in January) The outcome The deliberations at the Council of Nicaea were marked by intense conflict. According to a14th-century legend, Saint Nicholas—the figure later associated with Santa Claus—became so enraged during the proceedings that he struck Arius across the face. While the historical accuracy of this episode is doubtful, it accurately reflects the fierceness of the debate. Ultimately, the council ruled against Arius and produced a formal theological declaration: the Nicene Creed. The vote was overwhelmingly in favor. Only about 20 bishops initially refrained from supporting the creed, and just three—Arius and his two closest allies—refused to sign it. The remaining dissenters were later compelled to endorse the statement under pressure from Emperor Constantine. Although Constantine did not vote himself, he did intervene in the drafting, insisting on the inclusion of the term homoousios ('of one substance') in the final creed. The oldest surviving copy of the Nicene Creed, dating to the 6th century. Photograph by Pictorial Press Ltd/Alamy Stock Photo For supporters of Arius, as Fredriksen notes, there were significant financial and political incentives to break ranks: Constantine transferred wealth to orthodox bishops, allowed them to travel at public expense, granted them legal authority as magistrates, and provided grain distributions for their churches. Arius himself was exiled from Egypt and branded a heretic. Even after his death, orthodox Christians continued to attack him. They spread rumors of an undignified death—alleging that he died of explosive diarrhea in a public toilet. According to the legend, the force of his bowel movements caused his intestines to be expelled from his body. The story feels far-fetched. As Ellen Muehlberger, a professor at the University of Michigan, has written, this is one of a slew of early Christian fictions in which heretics and schismatics die in dramatic bathroom incidents. It had the effect of smearing Arius's teachings with excrement and bolstering the reputation of Nicaea and its decisions. (Where is Santa buried? The resting place of the real St. Nick.) The lost church For all its influence, the actual location for the meeting of the Council of Nicaea was, until very recently, completely unknown. Then, in 2018, after a century of fruitless efforts, scientists announced the discovery of ancient Roman ruins beneath the surface of the lake in Iznik, Turkey. Mustafa Şahin, the current head of archaeology at Bursa Uludağ University, had been searching the shores for years before he was shown some government survey pictures in 2014 that clearly revealed the outline of a large church beneath the water. The structure, which is located 165 feet off the coast of Iznik, is submerged 6-10 feet beneath the surface of the lake. Şahin and his collaborator biblical scholar Mark Fairchild believe that this is the place where the Council of Nicaea met. Archeological investigation revealed that the underwater basilica collapsed during an earthquake in 740 CE and was never rebuilt. Over time changes in the water level of the lake submerged the ruins entirely. For intrepid travelers there are plans to make the ruins accessible to visitors. In 2018 the mayor of Iznik, Alinur Aktas, said that professional diving classes would be available to tourists who want to visit the site. For Christians today, Nicaea remains a symbol of a time when the Church was less divided. Though the attendees were anything but unified and civil at the time, religious leaders now see the Nicene Creed as a symbol of shared agreement and belief among the denominations that make up modern Christianity. It predates the schisms that eventually separated the various branches of Orthodox Christianity from Roman Catholicism. Prior to his death, Pope Francis had hoped to join the Eastern Orthodox Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew I, in Nicaea for the anniversary. Pope Leo XIV will make the trip in November, expressing a desire to 'continue the dialogue between East and West [Orthodox Christianity and Roman Catholicism].' All of which shows that even when submerged under water, Nicaea still stands as a beacon of hope for Christians around the world.
Yahoo
24-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Sacred Mysteries: After 1700 years, Nicaea is still worth celebrating
I was wondering whether to pay a visit to Nicaea (now Iznik, in Turkey) for the 1700th anniversary of a momentous event there, but I was a bit put off by its not having a railway station. Luckily the good fathers who gathered there in 325 were not so easily deterred. I suppose they travelled by horse, mule or foot from Constantinople, though a ship would have helped across the Sea of Marmara, or the Propontis as it was then known. Worth celebrating now is that the bishops at the Council of Nicaea decided that Jesus Christ the Son of God is as much God as is God the Father. He wasn't just of a similar substance or being; he was of the same substance or being – 'God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not made'. That looks like the belief of the author of St John's Gospel, though the doctrine may not be easy to apply to a person who was also born and died, and, as Christians believed, rose again. The doctrine was important since, if Jesus was not fully human and fully divine, he would have been incapable of achieving atonement between God and humanity. We should have been left crushed by sin and death, unable to enter the gates of heaven. Since mankind has an unquenchable appetite for the infinite, we'd be in the most tragic of positions. The religious party that wanted the bishops at Nicaea to regard the Son of God only as a creature like us were followers of Arius, an influential priest born in the 250s. An anniversary issue on Nicaea has been printed by Communio (a learned theological journal founded in 1972 by Hans Urs von Balthasar, Henri de Lubac and Joseph Ratzinger, who became Pope Benedict XVI). In it, David M Gwynn considers how much Arius taught the errors attributed to him and how much his opponent St Athanasius should be regarded as the champion of orthodoxy. Dr Gwynn is reader in Ancient and Late Antique History at Royal Holloway in the University of London. Athanasius, he points out, was only a young priest of about 30 when he attended the council as assistant to Alexander, the patriarch of Alexandria. But he suggests that Athanasius might have drafted Alexander's circular letter denouncing Arius. Dr Gwynn writes that the teaching of Arius could not be called heresy then, as 'there were no established orthodox answers to resolve the questions under discussion'. Perhaps not, but if it contradicted points of doctrine held by Christians, it could have been seen as false. Dr Gwynn quotes a summary by Athanasius of the doctrines of the Arians. 'Not always was the Son, for he was not until he was begotten… He is not proper to the essence of the Father, for he is a creature and a thing made… The Son does not know the Father exactly… He is not unchangeable, like the Father, but is changeable by nature, like the creatures.' Dr Gwynn finds all these assertions in Arius's writings except for the last, for Athanasius's opponents repeatedly insisted that the Son was 'unchangeable and set apart from all other creatures'. I don't know that this got the associates of Arius out of trouble. To be sure, being created is not being changed, since there was nothing to be changed from. But creation adds a new thing to the world of creatures, all susceptible to change. And to class the Son as a creature, even if set apart, distinguishes him from God in a way fatal to human salvation. Anyway Dr Gwynn argues that over-simplifying Athanasius's story 'understates the scale of his contribution in defining and securing the orthodox faith'. I certainly wouldn't want that either. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
Telegraph
24-05-2025
- General
- Telegraph
Sacred Mysteries: After 1700 years, Nicaea is still worth celebrating
I was wondering whether to pay a visit to Nicaea (now Iznik, in Turkey) for the 1700th anniversary of a momentous event there, but I was a bit put off by its not having a railway station. Luckily the good fathers who gathered there in 325 were not so easily deterred. I suppose they travelled by horse, mule or foot from Constantinople, though a ship would have helped across the Sea of Marmara, or the Propontis as it was then known. Worth celebrating now is that the bishops at the Council of Nicaea decided that Jesus Christ the Son of God is as much God as is God the Father. He wasn't just of a similar substance or being; he was of the same substance or being – 'God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not made'. That looks like the belief of the author of St John's Gospel, though the doctrine may not be easy to apply to a person who was also born and died, and, as Christians believed, rose again. The doctrine was important since, if Jesus was not fully human and fully divine, he would have been incapable of achieving atonement between God and humanity. We should have been left crushed by sin and death, unable to enter the gates of heaven. Since mankind has an unquenchable appetite for the infinite, we'd be in the most tragic of positions. The religious party that wanted the bishops at Nicaea to regard the Son of God only as a creature like us were followers of Arius, an influential priest born in the 250s. An anniversary issue on Nicaea has been printed by Communio (a learned theological journal founded in 1972 by Hans Urs von Balthasar, Henri de Lubac and Joseph Ratzinger, who became Pope Benedict XVI). In it, David M Gwynn considers how much Arius taught the errors attributed to him and how much his opponent St Athanasius should be regarded as the champion of orthodoxy. Dr Gwynn is reader in Ancient and Late Antique History at Royal Holloway in the University of London. Athanasius, he points out, was only a young priest of about 30 when he attended the council as assistant to Alexander, the patriarch of Alexandria. But he suggests that Athanasius might have drafted Alexander's circular letter denouncing Arius. Dr Gwynn writes that the teaching of Arius could not be called heresy then, as 'there were no established orthodox answers to resolve the questions under discussion'. Perhaps not, but if it contradicted points of doctrine held by Christians, it could have been seen as false. Dr Gwynn quotes a summary by Athanasius of the doctrines of the Arians. 'Not always was the Son, for he was not until he was begotten… He is not proper to the essence of the Father, for he is a creature and a thing made… The Son does not know the Father exactly… He is not unchangeable, like the Father, but is changeable by nature, like the creatures.' Dr Gwynn finds all these assertions in Arius's writings except for the last, for Athanasius's opponents repeatedly insisted that the Son was 'unchangeable and set apart from all other creatures'. I don't know that this got the associates of Arius out of trouble. To be sure, being created is not being changed, since there was nothing to be changed from. But creation adds a new thing to the world of creatures, all susceptible to change. And to class the Son as a creature, even if set apart, distinguishes him from God in a way fatal to human salvation. Anyway Dr Gwynn argues that over-simplifying Athanasius's story 'understates the scale of his contribution in defining and securing the orthodox faith'. I certainly wouldn't want that either.
