It may be that no chapter in all of church history has been more subject to secular mythologizing as the era of Constantine and the Council of Nicaea. It does not concern us so much to vindicate any of the theologians of that era, much less that first emperor professing the faith. However, we do have to realize that it is the doctrine of Christ that is really under attack, not to speak of the canon of Scripture or Lord’s Day worship that usually come with the package of the tale that is told.  

CONSTANTINE

By the turn of the fourth century, the Roman Empire had quickly seen its realm divided into a tetrarchy. Constantine was military leader where his father Constantinus first reigned and was very popular, and as such he ruled over the Western portion of the Empire at first. By this time also, the majority of the military was made up of Christians. He was sent east to be educated in the courts of Diocletian, where he was essentially held hostage there to make sure that his father wouldn’t step out of line, but in 306 Constantine escaped to join his father in his campaign to take territory in an eventual march toward Rome. At his father’s death, he was declared emperor in York, in Britannia. 

But he had to march into Italy to defeat the competing emperor Maxentius at the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in 312. This is where he supposedly saw the sign of the cross in the sky, “In this sign, conquer.” This was said to mark the moment of his conversion. 

We cannot know how genuine his conversion ever was. His decision to delay baptism until his death bed at least signals to us that he cared about the question of his own soul. The best historians show balance here: “if his conversion should not be interpreted as an inward experience of grace, neither was it a cynical act of Machiavellian cunning.”1

Having said that, real changes were made.

The Edict of Milan (312) officially legalizes the Christian religion at least in the West. Crucifixion and the branding of criminals were outlawed on the ground that they were still in the image of God (316), unprecedented protection of the rights of women, children, peasants, and slaves were instituted. For example, it would now be illegal to leave babies to die. In 321, various activities were forbidden on the Lord’s Day. Necessary field labor and the freeing of slaves were made exceptions. Bishops were permitted to make civil court decisions.

He eventually takes control of the Eastern territory of the Empire as well from Licinius, and moves the capital to the northern coast of what was Asia Minor, the name of the city being changed to Constantinople.

According to critics, “Constantinianism” was a disaster for biblical Christianity. The first criticism has to do with what became known as Christendom. The emperor was immediately appealed to for theological judgments; and the Empire went overnight from being a persecutor of the church to a persecutor for what it deemed to be the true church. To the present day, we have seen the conflation of church and state in the European nations. We have also seen the adjective “Constantinian” thrown around to creep out anyone who would have so much as a toe in the waters of civil sphere with the other foot in the church. Whatever else might be Constantine’s fault, we shouuld certainly not blame him for our intellectual laziness that is always blaming the wrong things.

The second criticism has to do with the age-old problem of syncretism, that is a blending of religions. Constantine’s religion was syncretistic. Not only did he leave the Sol Invictus on the coins, but in the government forum of the new capital, statues of the Sun god and even the mother-goddess, Cybele, were dedicated. It may be replied that this was the secular court and that while Christianity was now legalized, it was not yet forced as the official religion. It is also true that the Roman Senate dedicated Constantine’s victory at the Milvian Bridge to “the deity” that meant the unconquerable sun.

Constantine himself seemed theologically ambivalent at first about any differences between a "solar monotheism" versus the triune God. But, as usual, history has a nasty habit of being more complex than even our worst cynicism can afford. It turns out that even this Sol Invictus character had been taken captive in a quite deliberate (agree with them or not) annexing of the pagan as Christ’s property. The days of the week may have been named after the pagan deities every bit as much as those months after the Roman emperors. Yet if all is trespassing on the true King’s territory, then whether the pagans have been naming things or not is inconsequential to the sun belonging the Son. Clement of Alexandria uses the imagery of Christ riding his chariot like the sun (imagery similar to Psalm 19:4-6) a good hundred years before Constantine. At the same time, Tertullian mentions how Christians were mistakenly thought to worship the sun, since they met on Sundays and prayed toward the east.2

CONTEST IN ALEXANDRIA

A debate emerged between Arius, a priest in Alexandria, and the bishop of that city, Alexander. The teaching of the Arians was that Christ was not eternally divine, but “There was when he was not.” In other words, Jesus was “similar in substance” (homoiousios) to God, yet not the “same in substance” (homoousios). The Arians could speak of Christ as “‘divine’ in the moral sense of being perfectly good,” as well as “superior to anything in the material world and the highest of the spiritual creatures in heaven.”3

Now error never arises in a vacuum. In fact, someone has said that the mother of heresy is always the exaggerated defence of some neglected truth. So how did the doctrine of Christ get to this point? Much of it was heavily influenced by Origen from the previous century.

There was a tendency in third century Trinitarian theology to protect the oneness of God via the primacy, or “one” (mono) “head” (arche) of the Father. In those two root words that make up the whole concept we see two potential emphases. To stress the oneness (mono) against the relations begets Modalism, whereas to stress the “head” (arche) relation against the oneness begets Subordinationism.

J. N. D. Kelly wrote that by the fourth century, “two types of Origenism seem to have been in vogue, one cautious and middle-of-the-road, the other more radical.”4 Alexander, the bishop who would oppose Arius represented one brand, and Eusebius of Caesarea, the church historian who would sympathize with Arius, represented the other. In the former, the oneness of Father and Son were stressed, and in the latter, subordination of the Son.

Arius accused Alexander of Sabellianism (that is, Modalism) because the unity of essence seemed unintelligible without denying the distinction between persons. So Arius conceived of a Trinity and generation, yet not an eternal generation, since (he assumed) generation is a process involving sequence. Instead the Father made the Son “a perfect creature of God but not like one of the [other] other creatures.”5

The emphasis on the oneness of the divine essence, especially in the philosophically-minded city of Alexandria, was a crucial factor. Arius (and Eusebius) saw the indivisibility of God to imply that the Father could not have produced the Son out of, or with, his essence, so that Christ must have been fully created. 

There was also a Gnostic assumption about the necessity of God using an intermediary to create the world. The world as we know it is evil, and the Gnostic concluded that the true God could not directly touch it. Hence the created logos became their suitable intermediary.

Colossians 1:15 was a typical proof text for the Arians, since it calls Christ “the firstborn of all creation.” And in the LXX, Proverbs 8:22 reads, “He created me as a beginning for his works.” Since it was universally held among the fathers that Wisdom in this chapter was preeminently the Son, one could not exclude this verse. Moreover, texts using language of subordination of Christ to the Father (1 Cor. 11:2; 15:28) or that the Father was greater (Jn. 14:28) were seized upon. Mark 10:28 was a favorite: “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone.” Another orthodox contemporary of the post-Nicene generation, Hilary of Poitiers, in his book On the Trinity, made a collection of the Arian proof texts, and offered correction to each of their simple errors. Augustine would do the same in his work On the Trinity in the next century.

NICAEA 325 

At first a meeting in the city of Alexandria resolved that the Arian teaching heresy in 320. Both sides appealed to Constantine. There had been regional synods before, but something much more historic and universal was required. It would be the first ecumenical council of the church. Nicaea was about 50 miles outside of Constantinople. Another common criticism is that Constantine handed this or that down, or forced this, or pronounced that. This is false. For one, Constantine had just consolidated power in the East the year before (324), and would hardly have been in the mood to deal with religious controversy except to guarantee peace. Over 300 pastors made the only decisions on Christian doctrine and practice. And it is believed that Hosius of Cordoba, who presided over lesser councils in Alexandria and Antioch, over the same Arian controversy, was called upon for his experience in this case as well. All that this means is that he was moderator, not in some “executive” position.

A few inescapable implications follow the Arian teaching: (i) The Trinity is not fully eternal; (ii) The Trinity is not immutable; (iii) A creature [Christ] is being worshiped; (iv) A creature [Christ] is looked to for salvation; (v) The Son does not actually have any of the divine attributes ascribed to him in Scripture; (vi) This really amounts to either polytheism or else the “divine” status of the Son is wholly analogical (as Arians themselves acknowledged that such titles were honorary and by grace). 

The Arian teaching was clearly ruled to be a heresy. It was that word homoousios that made the difference plain, and thus no honest Arian could sign off in good conscience. As we will see, this is one of the reasons that we know that the Arian leaders did not have a good conscience.

It was the Enlightenment historian Edward Gibbon who, in his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, famously criticized the church for dividing the West “over one little iota.” The insinuation was that such doctrinal wrangling is over minutiae, whereas empire-building and preservation of this world is of utmost importance. But in that one iota rests the difference between Christianity and paganism, between the gospel and another gospel. 

There were other decisions of the Council. According to Schaff, “The bishoprics of Alexandria, Rome, and Antioch were placed substantially on equal footing.”6 There were some twenty canons on church discipline and ordination of officers. The date of Easter was reconciled, where the East and West had a disagreement over that before. The myth that the canon was “created” at Nicaea was popularized to moderns by Voltaire, who himself got the idea from an obscure ninth century "fictitious anecdote" called Synodicon Vetus, which said this:

The canonical and apocryphal books it distinguished in the following manner: in the house of God the books were placed down by the holy altar; then the council asked the Lord in prayer that the inspired works be found on top and—as in fact happened—the spurious on the bottom.

This of course never happened, as there is no record of the Council deliberating on those books.

CREED AND CONSEQUENCES

There were four basic sections to the Creed, once it was all complete. It follows the basic form of the Apostles Creed, but without having to explain that bit about Christ descending into hell. At any rate, the section that was meant to settle the controversy in 325 read as follows:

And in one Lord Jesus Christ,

   the only Son of God,

   begotten from the Father before all ages,

        God from God,

        Light from Light,

        true God from true God,

   begotten, not made;

   of the same essence as the Father.

Now three parties emerged, as semi-Arians attempted that as a softer version, whereas the radicals maintained a heteroousios. The main Arian leaders, like Eusebius of Nicomedia, signed the Creed with fingers crossed about the term homoousios. After being exiled for a time, Arius would be convinced to do the same. Once he did, Constantine immediately sent a letter to Athanasius demanding that he be reinstated in Alexandria.

What was lurking in the background was the very clever strategy of Eusebius, to pick off Athanasius. He knew that Athanasius would refuse to readmit Arius. At first, when summoned, Athanasius won the emperor over with his reasonableness. But troublemakers back in Alexandria embroiled their bishop into controversy. A group of Copts known as the Melitians baited Athanasius to use heavy-handed means, and a formal complaint led to his deposition in 335. He would be exiled several more times, a never-ending conspiracy between Arian bishops and Arian emperors.

In light of all this,the notion that Constantine and his line forced the orthodox view of Christ on the church is simply laughable. In fact, they wanted unity above all else and were prepared to oppose the orthodox wherever that was threatened. This is why that maxim was coined about this great hero of the faith: Athanasius contra mundum (Athanasius against the world). 

There was also a language barrier that had to be overcome, and this regarded the whole doctrine of the Trinity. For the Greek speaking orthodox, the word to use in order to contradict Sabellianism was hypostases. This came to mean “person,” but more literally, “that which exists in its own right.”7 Since they heard the Latin substantia as equivalent, when the West maintained one substantia, they heard only Modalism. Similarly the West conceived of the East’s formulation as fanciful and implying three separable beings. The Alexandrians were especially helpful here, as they saw that what matters is the intent of the word and not the exact matching of the words from one language to the other. The statement of faith from the Antioch council (324), in which the presiding Hosious of Cordoba had just received much of his language from Alexander weeks before in Alexandria, makes no mention of the word “consubstantial.” For some historians, this signals that this term was not definitive until the deliberations at Nicaea.8

CAPPADOCIANS, “SPIRIT-FIGHTERS,” AND ANOTHER COUNCIL

Gregory of Naziansus, Basil of Caesarea, and Gregory of Nyssa are generally referred to as the “Cappadocian fathers” who led the way in defending the doctrine of the Trinity against these later Arians (often called Eunamonians), Pneumatimachians, and other Subordinationists. Basil’s work On the Holy Spirit became one of the great classics on the doctrine.

These Pneumatomachians (“Spirit-fighters”) challenged that the Nicaean language could be applied to the Spirit as well. They charged the Cappadocian fathers of introducing “an alien God not written about in Scripture.”9

A new emperor, Theodosius, had professed a purer form of Christianity that Constantine. He would go further than making the faith legal, but would make it the official religion of the Empire. He had his own moral failings, and in fact after one particular ambush ordered of political dissenters, the bishop of Milan, Ambrose, barred him from the Lord’s Table until he should come kneeling before the church in repentance, which he did. But at any rate, one of his first duties as emperor was to take up that same role that had been sensed by Constantine, that of restoring peace to the church. 

The Council of Constantinople was held in 381 in the capital of the Empire. Similar to the events at Nicaea, the attendees were made up of pastors. However the chief difference was the controversy over the Holy Spirit. This is why there is that latter version of the Creed with that additional language of the Spirit (or why that wording is missing from some versions you see of the Nicene Creed). In other words, it is why we can speak of a Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed. In its entirety, it reads:

“We believe in one God,

the Father, the Almighty,

maker of heaven and earth,

of all that is, seen and unseen.

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,

the only Son of God,

eternally begotten of the Father,

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made,

of one being with the Father;

through him all things were made.

 

For us and for our salvation

he came down from heaven:

was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary,

and became truly human.

For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;

he suffered death and was buried.

On the third day he rose again

in accordance with the Scriptures;

he ascended into heaven

and is seated at the right hand of the Father.

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,

and his kingdom will have no end.

 

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life,

who proceeds from the Father [and the Son],

who with the Father and the Son is worshiped and glorified,

who has spoken through the prophets.

We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.

We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.

We look for the resurrection of the dead,

and the life of the world to come. Amen.”

 

Now we might take note of that bracketed portion in the last section: “and the Son.” What does that mean? For one, it means that the fight over this language was not over. This was called the Filioque Clause, from the Latin word for “and the Son,” or “the Son also.”

The Western church included it later, and the Eastern church opposed it. They would eventually split over it. Or was it a split over who would have more power and authority in the church, using doctrine as the occasion?

We will have to leave that question for another day. The takeaway is not to fall back into that anti-doctrinal cynicism. Both sides had theological reasons. John 15:26 and 20:21 could be cited by the West. On the other hand, since post-Augustinian Trinitarianism focuses so much on those origins of relation, whereby grounding was sought in the immanent Trinity for all of the things that can be attributed to each person, it would be speculative to transfer the language of those verses to the Spirit’s relation to the Son in eternity. Wherever one lands on that question, we are reminded that the usual curators of these events are usually not theologians. Hence we should stop listening to them and go back to the theological sources themselves for what is an irreducibly theological matter.

__________________________

1. Henry Chadwick, The Early Church (London: Penguin Publishing, 1967), 126.

2. Chadwick, Early Church History, 125.

3. Gerald Bray, God Has Spoken (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2014), 232.

4. Athanasius, De synodis, 16, quoted in Bray, God Has Spoken, 234.

5. J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines, 224.

6. Philip Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 275–276.

7. Chadwick, The Early Church, 146.

8. Bray, God Has Spoken, 248-49.

9. Robert Louis Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), 102.