The Great Council

And so the Great Council was called, to be held at a pleasant town on a lake, a place called Nicaea in Bithynia, a part of the empire where Arian ideas were not only popular but held by many to be fully orthodox. ¹ The fact that Constantine 's summer palace was there, with plenty of room for everyone, made the choice of location even more attractive. About 250 bishops, most from the Eastern part of the empire, with associated clergy and other retainers, arrived, and Constantine himself opened the proceedings on 20 May, a.d. 325. The lingua franca spoken by all was Greek.

No written records of the debates held during the Council have survived. There seems, however, to have been more heat than light generated. Few were prepared to listen to Arius's tightly reasoned, philosophy­tinged arguments. Most would have been prepared to accept “almost any formula which would secure harmony within the church,” as Timothy Barnes has pointed out. ²

A traditional story about the Council, which of course cannot be confirmed because there are no written records of the proceedings, but which one would hope to be true, indicates that bishops skilled in the Greek arts of rhetoric, debate, and philosophy dominated the first session. Finally, one of the Egyptian clerics, an old man who had sat patiently listening to empty eloquence, rose to speak. He had been blinded and crippled by Diocletian's torturers. “Know you not,” he said, “that Christ and his Apostles left us not a system of logic, nor a vain deceit, but a naked truth, to be guarded by faith and good works.” ³ One can only imagine the silence that must have fallen over the assembly as those in attendance felt the tug of truth lead them—if only momentarily—away from philosophy and the fallacies inherent in human reasoning to the simple majesty of faith.

Alexander and his protégé, Athanasius, the bishop's young, intense secretary, who soon became the standard-bearer for the “orthodox” view, hammered away at the need to define Christianity in a way that would clearly brand Arius's views as heretical and thus unacceptable, without driving away the Eastern bishops, many of whom were sympathetic to the Arian position. Constantine himself, we are told, introduced a term, homoousious, which defined the Son as “consubstantial” (one being) with the Father. That would make the Son essentially no different than the Father, so it was thought. Since the phrase does not appear in the scriptures and had not been used in Christian tradition either, some bishops thought it extreme and unwise to require its acceptance by the entire church. Still, to define the Trinity as “three persons in one substance,” though it introduced as many theological problems as it solved, might at least provide the formula for some sort of agreement and allow everyone to go home. And the words were ambiguous enough in meaning to be interpreted differently by Arians and anti-Arians.

More importantly, perhaps, Constantine had weighed in on the matter, and who dared to gainsay him? Who would be so bold as to declare the emperor a heretic? Constantine , frustrated by theological wrangling, anxious above all else for unity, urged acceptance of Christ's nature as of “one being with” the Father. Let's just end the argument, was his view. And so they did, for a while at least. Arius and his views were declared anathema. All who were present signed the document, except for a couple of bishops who remained loyal to Arius and left with him, one would suppose, in a huff.

The text of the Nicene Creed, which from henceforth defined orthodox Christianity, became sacrosanct, immutable. It reads as follows: “We believe in one God the Father All-­sovereign, maker of all things visible and invisible; and in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father, only-­begotten, that is the substance of the Father, God of God, Light of Light, true God of true God, by whom all things were made, things in heaven and things on the earth; who for us men and for our salvation came down and was made flesh, and became man, suffered, and rose on the third day, ascended into heaven, and is coming to judge living and dead. And in the Holy Spirit. And those that say, ‘There was when he was not,' and ‘Before he was begotten he was not,' and that, ‘He came into being from what­is­not,' or those that allege, that the Son of God is ‘of another substance or essence' or ‘created' or ‘changeable' or ‘alterable,' these the Catholic and Apostolic Church anathematizes.” ⁴

Having neatly disposed of the concerns about the nature of God—or so he must have thought— Constantine had the bishops set a date for Easter, which separated it from the Jewish Passover.

After two months of work and a sumptuous closing banquet, Constantine sent the bishops home, secure in his belief that “we have received from divine Providence the blessing of being freed from all error, and united in the acknowledgement of one and the same faith. The devil will no longer have any power over us. . . . Wherefore we all worship the one true God and believe that he is.” ⁵

But of course it was not to be. And how, in retrospect, could anyone think otherwise? The traditional “orthodox” view of God as wholly “other,” immaterial, immutable, without body, parts or passions, is extra-­scriptural. The creed raises as many questions as it solves.

Was it all, at the end, just the playing of power politics, the triumph of compromise over principle? Was it all about power—the power of the emperor in this world echoing that of God in heaven? Is it significant, as one historian has suggested, that “Arius's formulation, which acknowledges the Father's priority over the Son, survived for centuries in altered form in some of the Eastern churches, which tended to accept imperial power over church affairs, and later would influence the structure of what became ‘state churches'”? ⁶

Whatever else, as the next chapter shows, intense armed conflict and mob violence were common between Arians and anti­Arians in the decades after the Nicene Council supposedly had settled the issue of God's identity and Christ's relationship to the Father, once and for all time. These quarrels divided bishops and congregations for decades—some would say centuries—to come. Even Athanasius, who may have thought he had obtained a clear victory at Nicea, was deposed by a council of bishops within a few years, and the decision to throw him out was ratified by Constantine himself. After Constantine died in a.d. 337, Athanasius reclaimed his position, but later was again deposed twice. His third successful rival, the Arian bishop George of Cappadocia, who presided at Alexandria, was beaten to death by an enraged mob of Athanasians, and Athanasius managed, one last time, to hang on to his bishopric until he too died in a.d. 373. We will learn much more about Athanasius in the next chapter.

Of one thing we can however be certain: after the Council of Nicea, the bishops assumed hitherto-unknown power in the political as well as religious spheres. Church councils, held under the guidance and direction of the emperor, and bowing to his will, became the defining assemblies of orthodoxy. And it was not long before the church, which had suffered so much persecution, began itself to persecute others considered by it to be outside the realm of orthodoxy. The church's work of persecution was made possible by its close ties to the secular power, which often provided the “muscle” needed for enforcement.

In the years and centuries following the Council of Nicea, more than twenty ecumenical councils were held at various times and places. They considered a broad variety of subjects. At the Council of Chalcedon in a.d. 451, for example, those present drew up a statement of faith, the so-called Chalcedonian Definition, which reaffirmed the Definitions of Nicea ( a.d. 325), and Constantinople ( a.d. 381), asserting them to be a sufficient account of the orthodox faith regarding the doctrine of Christ. The Council of Chalcedon also sowed the seeds of future discord between the Eastern and Western churches by bestowing on the bishop of Constantinople the title of Patriarch, with the clear indication that there would be complete equality between the sees of Rome and Constantinople . The Eastern provinces of the empire would be responsible to the Patriarch alone. The ecclesiastical rivalry sown at Chalcedon would bear bitter fruits in the coming centuries.

Twelve centuries later, in a much different world, the Council of Trent ( a.d. 1545–63) attempted to provide the Catholic response to the Protestant reformation. The Niceno-Constantino­politan Creed was formally reaffirmed as a basis of faith. The doctrine of transubstantiation was affirmed, and Protestant doctrine concerning the Eucharist (the sacrament of the Lord's Supper) was repudiated.

But any consideration of the councils and the creeds they produced over the centuries must deal with a vitally important central issue: the theology and practices that the councils arrived at were drastically different from those of the New Testament period, when the church was under apostolic direction. In large part, the councils got it wrong not just because there was so much politicking and bad faith evidenced at them, and not because the participants didn't try to reach a common understanding, but because the creeds they produced exhibit profound differences in both language and concepts from those in the scriptures. Their adoption resulted in a body of theology that was acceptable to the gentile Greek world, but departed in significant ways from the simple gospel message of Jesus and His apostles. How ironic it is to note that over time, rejection of the conciliatory creeds came to be considered by the “orthodox” church as a greater deterrent to Christian fellowship than rejection of the New Testament itself!

Greek Philosophy and Christian ­Theology

The influence of Greek philosophy on Christian theology, including concerns about the nature of God, which so preoccupied the participants in the Council of Nicea, can hardly be overemphasized. The Greek influence on religious thought was profoundly positive in some ways. Greek thinkers such as Plato and Aristotle moved people away from the immoral and capricious gods of the pantheon to nobler and more adequate conceptions of divinity. Maurice Wiles has noted that “all Christian thinking, and especially all Christian thinking about the being and nature of God, was influenced, often unconsciously, by philosophical ideas current in the Hellenistic world.” ⁷ And Edwin Hatch's observation of over a century ago still holds true: “A large part of what are sometimes called Christian doctrines, and many usages which have prevailed and continue to prevail in the Christian Church, are in reality Greek theories and Greek usages changed in form and colour by the influence of primitive Christianity, but in their essence Greek still.” ⁸

Justin Martyr, a practicing philosopher of the Platonic school before he became a Christian in the second century, was the first Christian thinker to seek to reconcile the claims of faith and reason. He believed portions of the truth were found in Greek philosophy, but that Christianity was the only completely rational creed. Plato's teacher, Socrates, Justin averred, was in effect a “Christian before Christ.” ⁹

Justin used his philosophical training to defend Christianity against the Gnostics, sadly without great success. Many of his writings were directed towards Roman intellectuals and political leaders (including the emperor), who believed strongly in the role of philosophy in living a virtuous life. Christian doctrine, Justin claimed, was “more lofty than all human philosophy.” Justin was martyred in Rome , probably in a.d. 164, after having refused to sacrifice to the Roman gods.

Toward the end of the second century, Greek philosophy began to exert a significant impact on Christian thought and teaching. Clement of Alexandria ( a.d. 150–215), ¹⁰ who led the way in integrating Christian faith with the best secular thinking of the day, saw Platonism as a divine gift from God to mankind, wholly compatible with Christian and Jewish teachings, and an ally of Christianity. Platonism, Clement believed, was given by God to the Greeks to prepare them to receive Christ, just as the law of Moses had been given to the Jews as a “schoolmaster,” for the same purpose. Plato, he said, was an imitation of Moses.

Clement drew upon the earlier works of the Alexandrian Jew Philo (circa 20 b.c.–a.d. 50), the most important figure among the Hellenistic Jews of his age. Philo developed an allegorical interpretation of scripture, which led him to see much of Greek philosophy in the Old Testament. Like Philo, Clement argued for an allegorical reading of the scriptures, rejecting literalism, and finding in such a view of Holy Writ philosophical teachings that buttressed and strengthened the Christian position. Clement's student Origen carried on the process of bringing Greek philosophy into the mainstream of Christian theology. ¹¹ In the absence of divine revelation, Christian thinkers increasingly turned to Greek philosophy to assist them in rebutting the claims of heretics, particularly the dangerous, sophisticated Gnostics. Philosophy, it was felt, helped to formalize and institutionalize Christian doctrine and practices. By the time of the Council of Nicea, much of the theological debate that led to the framing of “orthodox” doctrine was being carried out in Platonic language, using Platonic assumptions.

Tertullian, a North African convert to the church (circa a.d. 150–212), who spent most of his life in Carthage , was horrified by Clement's philosophical approach to Christian theology. ¹² He believed Platonism was evil and that philosophy lay at the root of apostasy. Tertullian devoted much of his legal skill to defending orthodoxy and mercilessly attacking Clement. He found little truth useful to Christianity outside of the revelations given to ancient Israel and through Jesus Christ. Tertullian's views on the nature of Christ and on the Trinity laid the foundation for orthodox views on these matters in both Eastern and Western ­churches.

It is important, in considering this brief overview of the effects of Greek philosophy on Christian theology, to keep in mind the chronology involved. Greek philosophy did not cause the apostasy. By the time Greek thought became an important factor in Christian theology, the apostasy had already occurred. Many Latter-day Saints do not understand this fact. Greek philosophy was integrated into Christian theology, but it occurred after the apostasy had already taken place, primarily in response to the dangerous teachings of schismatic groups in the third century.

The Nature of God

To some of the Greek philosophers the idea that God has a body of flesh and bones was utterly incomprehensible and logically unacceptable. It was, to them, repugnant nonsense. The Neo­Platonist thinker Plotinus ¹³ (circa 205–270 a.d. ), for example, though perhaps extreme in his views, was reputed to be ashamed that his soul had a body and “could not endure to discuss his lineage, nor his parents, nor his fatherland”! ¹⁴ Early Christians, on the other hand, like the Jews who were their contemporaries, commonly and perhaps generally believed in an embodied God. As Christian apologists attempted to reconcile Greek philosophy with Christian beliefs, it was not long before the corporeal nature of God came under attack. Clement of Alexandria was perhaps the first Christian writer to declare that God is immaterial. That doctrine was taken up and expanded by Origen. Divine corporeality, Origen declared, is logically incompatible with Platonic conceptions of the nature of God, and therefore it cannot be. Such thought gives credence to Nephi's inspired observation that “when [men] are learned they think they are wise, and they hearken not unto the counsel of God, for they set it aside, supposing they know of themselves, wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not” (2 Nephi 9:28).

Tertullian countered such apostate teachings, insisting that God is embodied and resisting attempts by the immaterialists to Platonize this aspect of Christian doctrine. The body was considered by Tertullian to be sacred, not shameful.

By the early part of the fifth century a.d., most Christian theologians had embraced the apostate Neoplatonic view that God is immaterial. Augustine, for example, was an uncompromising advocate of the incorporeity of God. Gradually, as Platonism became firmly ensconced as the dominant Christian world­view, the idea that God has a body faded away. As Professor David L. Paulsen has said, “The confluence of Christian and Greek thought in the first five centuries of the church would devastate the theological landscape for many more centuries to come. Some truths would be altered, others, like Divine embodiment, would be completely flipped on their head. There had occurred a turning away from the truth, an apostasy, which dealt such a blow to the gospel that no reformation could piece together the once perfect mosaic. It would require a complete restoration of truth and doctrine. Such a restoration would take place in the early 19th century.” ¹⁵

Yes, indeed: The church had reached such a state that though it retained “a form of godliness,” it was in fact “teaching for doctrines the commandments of men” (Joseph Smith–History 1:14). That in part is why a revelatory restoration would be needed to restore the truth and divine authority and approbation.

Latter-­day Saint Views on the Nature of ­God

Latter-day Saints reject both sides of the argument supposedly settled by the Council of Nicea. Neither Arius nor Athanasius was without error. As President Gordon B. Hinckley has said, “We do not accept the Nicene Creed, nor any other creed based on tradition and the conclusions of men.” ¹⁶ Latter­day Saints believe, along with other Christians, in a Godhead of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. However, we deny the nonbiblical idea that the members of the Godhead are one metaphysical substance. Though perfectly united, they are distinct individuals. Thus, we testify, as Elder Dallin H. Oaks has indicated, that “these three members of the Godhead are three separate and distinct beings. We also testify that God the Father is not just a spirit but is a glorified person with a tangible body, as is his resurrected Son, Jesus Christ. . . . The Nicene Creed erased the idea of the separate being of Father and Son by defining God the Son as being of ‘one substance with the Father.'” ¹⁷

Elder James E. Talmage explained the Latter-day Saint concept of the unity of God, which though asserting that the Godhead consists of three separate Beings, speaks also to their perfect and complete unity of thought, purpose, and operation. He said:

“This unity is a type of completeness; the mind of any one member of the Trinity is the mind of the others; seeing as each of them does with the eye of perfection, they see and understand alike. Under any given conditions each would act in the same way, guided by the same principles of unerring justice and equity. The one­ness of the Godhead, to which the scriptures so abundantly testify, implies no mystical union of substance, nor any unnatural and therefore impossible blending of personality. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost are as distinct in their persons and individualities as are any three personages in mortality. Yet their unity of purpose and operation is such as to make their edicts one, and their will the will of God.” ¹⁸

Though it may seem to be nothing more than theological nit-picking, concern about the nature of God is of grave importance. The Prophet Joseph Smith understood that. He said, “It is the first principle of the gospel to know for a certainty the character of God, and to know that we may converse with Him as one man converses with another.” ¹⁹ In that same sermon, the King Follett Discourse, given on 7 April 1844 the Prophet also said, “If men do not comprehend the character of God, they do not comprehend themselves.” ²⁰

Latter­day Saint views on the nature and character of God rest firmly and forever on the validity of the First Vision vouchsafed to the Prophet Joseph Smith. President Gordon B. Hinckley stated the position clearly and simply:

“We do accept, as the basis of our doctrine, the statement of the Prophet Joseph Smith that when he prayed for wisdom in the woods, ‘the light rested upon me [and] I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other— This is my Beloved Son. Hear Him!' (Joseph ­Smith—­History 1:17).

“Two beings of substance were before him. He saw them. They were in form like men, only much more glorious in their appearance. He spoke to them. They spoke to him. They were not amorphous spirits. Each was a distinct personality. They were beings of flesh and bone whose nature was reaffirmed in later revelations which came to the Prophet.

“Our entire case as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter­day Saints rests on the validity of this glorious First Vision. It was the parting of the curtain to open this, the dispensation of the fulness of times. Nothing on which we base our doctrine, nothing we teach, nothing we live by is of greater importance than this initial declaration. I submit that if Joseph Smith talked with God the Father and His Beloved Son, then all else of which he spoke is true. This is the hinge on which turns the gate that leads to the path of salvation and eternal life.

“Are we Christians? Of course we are Christians. We believe in Christ. We worship Christ. We take upon ourselves in solemn covenant His holy name. The Church to which we belong carries His name. He is our Lord, our Savior, our Redeemer through whom came the great Atonement with salvation and eternal life.” ²¹

1 See Rubenstein, When Jesus Became God, 68–88.

2 Barnes, Constantine and Eusebius, 215.

3 Romer, Testament, 217.

4 Quoted in Frend, The Rise of Christianity, 499.

5 Ibid., 500.

6 Pagels, Beyond Belief, 175.

7 Wiles, The Making of Christian Doctrine, 28.

8 Hatch, The Influence of Greek Ideas and Usage upon the Christian Church, 350.

9 See Olson, The Story of Christian Theology, 58–59; see also chapter 5, note 5, of this book.

10 See Olson, Story of Christian Theology, 86–90; see also chapter 5, note 4, of this book

11 See Olson, Story of Christian Theology, 99–112; see also chapter 4, note 20, of this book.

12 See Olson, Story of Christian Theology, 90–98; see also chapter 5, note 12, of this book.

13 Plotinus (circa 205–270 a.d .), a noted Neoplatonic philosopher and mystic, who worked in Rome , had a profound influence on Augustine and hence on the theologians of the Middle Ages. He believed the Divine existed in three separate entities. Plotinus claimed to have produced a synthesis of Stoic ethics and Aristotelian logic within a Platonic framework.

14 Romer, Testament, 209.

15 Paulsen, “The God of Primitive Christianity: Apostasy and Restora­tion,” 24; see also Paulsen, “Early Christian Belief in a Corporeal Deity: Origen and Augustine as Reluctant Witnessess,” 105–16; Paulsen, “Must God Be Incorporeal?” 76–87; Griffin and Paulsen, “Augustine and the Corporeality of God,” 97–118.

16Hinckley , “What Are People Asking about Us?” 71.

17 Oaks, “Apostasy and Restoration,” 84, 85.

18 Talmage, A Study of the Articles of Faith, 37.

19 History of the Church, 6:305.

20 Ibid., 6:303.

21Hinckley , “What Are People Asking about Us?” 71.