
Editor's Note: This story first appeared in the 2025 Beeson Magazine, which can be read in its entirety online.
While many may be familiar with the Nicene Creed, recited weekly by millions of Christians worldwide, fewer may know the story of the creed by which we confess our faith. The entire Nicaea “event” emerged out of a kairos moment, or better, a kairos season, involving multiple providential crossroads. The Roman Empire and its new emperor, Constantine, were at a critical political and religious crossroads, as for the first time a Roman emperor was invested in the church’s success rather than its demise. The church’s leadership was at an ecclesial and doctrinal crossroads, as it faced the challenge of the theological crisis posed by Arianism in ways that were both new and traditional. Because of the favorable winds now filling its sails, the church was able for the first time to respond ecumenically, with representatives from East and West, setting forth a creed based on the Scriptures, baptismal confessions and the Rule of Faith. These elements had always been the church’s catechetical tools for teaching and assessing doctrine and for Christian formation.
In subsequent decades, the church pursued the acceptance and wider implementation of a revised and expanded Nicene creed—ratified and finalized at Constantinople in 381—to teach and promote correct doctrine in Christian communities, from the point of one’s initiation in baptism and forward.
Emperor and Empire
The Roman Empire spanned the Mediterranean basin, from Spain and Britain in the west, to Israel and Syria in the east. Since Augustus’ reign, the far-flung empire was held together by travel networks, infrastructure, military troops to enforce Roman law (and keep barbarians out) and religion. Augustus had declared himself the chief priest (Pontifex Maximus) of the empire and a benevolent intercessory figure, styling himself “Father of his Country” (Pater Patriae). The cult of the emperor and Dea Roma was a kind of civil religion in which one venerated the emperor and representative statues of himself and Rome by offering prayers and incense, demonstrating loyal citizenship. This cultic veneration (though a formality) constituted idolatry for Christians, who preferred suffering and death rather than violating their loyalty to Christ.
Persecution mainly happened on a local level, but several times it was state-sponsored and empire-wide. Between 298-302, a repression targeted Christians in the army. Then in 303, a series of laws more broadly targeted Christians, church buildings, sacred scriptures and clergy—mainly bishops. This repression lasted until 311, offering only the briefest respite and a temporary toleration. But persecution resumed the following year, mainly in Egypt, Palestine and Syria. Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea in Palestine, offers shocking eyewitness testimony. Christians were mercilessly butchered, drawn and quartered, covered in burning pitch, flogged, racked and scraped with sharp shells. They were beheaded, thrown to lions, bears, panthers and bulls, burned at the stake and crucified, bearing witness as those of whom “the world was not worthy” (Heb 11:38). Eusebius testified that this slaughter continued “not for a few days or weeks, but year after year.” Sometimes bishops were maimed rather than executed, but the ongoing horror seemed excessive and tiresome, even to pagans.
During this persecution, Constantine was growing up in various cities across the empire, rising through military ranks, sometimes helping his father in Britain (where persecution was minimal or unenforced). Upon his father’s death in 306, Constantine’s troops in Britain hailed him as Augustus, and in 312 after the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in Rome, he became sole ruler of the West. Before that pivotal victory, he had a vision of a cross in the heavens, and saw a sign or heard a voice saying, “in this conquer.” Deeply impacted, Constantine declared himself a follower of this God who could help him win; and since he did conquer, that symbol in the sky (the Chi-Rho) became his emblem, and he adhered to this Christian God, eventually drawing up new laws favoring Christians and revoking the old laws. Importantly, in 312, he drew up an “Edict of Toleration,” granting freedom of worship to all. In subsequent years, Constantine overcame two more imperial rivals, including his own brother-in-law, Licinius, a persecutor. By 324, he was sole emperor, and the church’s affairs now required his attention.
Ecclesial and Theological Crossroads
The Nicaea event is about more than a conference of bishops convening to establish correct doctrine and subsequently enforce it. It is about a providential opportunity for the church ecumenically to name, define and repudiate a heresy about God the Son and God’s saving work through Him. Examining the Scriptures together, the Nicene Council leveraged the work of prior generations of faithful theologians, preachers and teachers to answer the needs of the moment. They also celebrated together the goodness of God in ending persecution.
Arius was an Egyptian presbyter, ordained in 311 or 312, the pivotal historical window in which his bishop Peter was martyred, Constantine was converted, the Edict of Milan was promulgated and a great schism got underway in the North African church resulting from the fall-out of the Great Persecution.
Around 318, a controversy broke out when Arius opposed the Christological teaching of Alexandria’s subsequent bishop, Alexander. In a letter to his friend and supporter, bishop Eusebius of Nicomedia, Arius explains these objectionable teachings. In his view, by using phrases like “always God, always Son,” Alexander taught that God the Father and Christ the Son are in every way the same in terms of being eternal and co-equal and without beginning. But Arius believed that the Father alone is self-existing and completely eternal, and that the Son did have a beginning—when He was begotten by the Father. To Arius, this distinction between the eternal Father and the Son who came later preserves monotheism and protects the unique supremacy of God the Father. Additionally, Alexander’s teaching that “the Son is from God Himself” threatened the unity of God’s divine nature (i.e., the idea that God exists somehow in parts). In Arian math, two divine beings of the same substance, equally eternal and co-existent, equaled two gods.
Arius taught that only God the Father is uniquely God—all else is contingent and derivative. God the Father created the Son out of nothing, like other creatures, yet the Son is the most perfect and glorious creature and the agent through which God created all else. Arius’ characteristic catch phrase, “before He was begotten, He was not,” encapsulates these ideas. The Son was begotten (meaning “created”) and established by the Father’s divine will, not of the Father’s own nature or substance, and before He was begotten/created, the Son did not exist. In other words, Arius denied the eternal deity (though not divinity) of the Son and placed the Son below the Creator/creature divide. He believed that the Son was called “God” as a courtesy title, but the name was not His by nature.
The Church’s Response: The Council of Nicaea 325
Alexander disciplined Arius and stripped him of his position, but Arian ideas spread and gained supporters even outside of Egypt. In 324, Alexander wrote to a fellow bishop, countering Arius’ ideas with Scripture and laying out his position in a creedal form, which was then reciprocally subscribed to by a group of bishops who met together in early 325 in Antioch to try to resolve the issue. Meanwhile, the emperor was apprised of the conflict and grew concerned about the church's disunity. Anticipating a possible schism, he urged Alexander and Arius to reconcile. In fact, this doctrinal and ecclesiastical issue was not Constantine’s first such challenge. He had already heard (and failed to resolve) two issues that caused schisms in the Egyptian and North African churches (Melitian and Donatist schisms). Despite the earlier meeting of 325 to clarify Christological orthodoxy, Constantine wanted to meet with all the bishops himself and therefore called a council for later in the year. The venue was relocated from Ankyra to Nicaea, and on May 20, 325, the Council of Nicaea opened.
The council was convened by Hosius of Cordoba, the emperor’s trusted representative. Traditional sources claim the attendance of 318 bishops (plus their retinues), while others claim 270 or approximately 300. The Roman bishop was absent, so two presbyters represented him. Signs of recent persecution and its torture methods marked many attendees, leading later bishop-historian Theodoret of Cyrus to remark that the gathering was like an “army of martyrs.” Paul, bishop of Neo-Caesarea under Licinius, had lost the use of both hands, as the nerves had been desensitized by the application of hot irons. Some had their right eye gouged out; others—like Paphnutius—had their left leg crippled from its socket. Having subsidized all attendees’ travel, accommodations and hospitality needs, the emperor arrived on June 14. The bishops assembled in the “great hall” of an imperial palace/residence, and the emperor entered last, sitting on a low seat after requesting the bishops’ permission to be seated. Welcome speeches were offered by Eusebius of Nicomedia (pro-Arian) and Eustathius of Antioch (anti-Arian). Constantine, deeply moved by the presence of bishops who had visibly suffered, also gave a speech—an exhortation to unity in view of the cessation of persecution. Through his efforts, he said, God had brought freedom to the church, and how tragic that as the persecutors are gone, Christians would now attack one another!
No minutes (acta) have been preserved for this extraordinary council, but its events may be approximated by examining episcopal correspondence. An Arian faction presented a written statement of its position, probably drafted by Eusebius of Nicomedia. Its heresy was manifest, and before it had been completely read aloud, an uproar broke out among the assembly and the document was snatched up and torn to bits. Over several days, the council crafted a creedal statement, on the model of a Rule of Faith, focused on clarifying the question of the Son’s status relative to the Father. Eusebius of Caesarea indicated that each phrase of the creed was carefully discussed, and he accepted its wording “not without examination.”
Nicaea’s Creed
All the bishops prioritized the Scriptural consistency of the creed and were sensitive to non-Scriptural terminology. On this score, the word homoousios (“of the same essence”) proved a sticking point for a number of bishops, but especially for the Arians. Constantine certainly championed this term but was not its originator: Bishop Hosius more than likely suggested it. After several days of biblical discussions and theological deliberations, on June 19, 325, the council set forth a creedal statement clearly repudiating Arianism and the creaturely status of the eternal Son. The Arian bishops were afraid of losing their bishoprics, so one by one (with only two holdouts) they signed the final statement.
Looking back on the council, Eustathius indicated that the Arian bishops (even those who signed in the end) only pretended to agree with the creed, proven by their subsequent continued adherence to Arian tenets. Athanasius, having attended with Alexander as his deacon, affirms Eustathius’s characterization, explaining further that as the creedal phrases were read aloud one by one in the assembly, closely examining the wording, the Arians, with nods and winks to one another, indicated the dual meanings of each word as terms they could accept. The language was sufficiently malleable and could support their interpretation of the Son as a creature less than God, made ex nihilo by the Father. The addition into the creed of the words, “from the substance of the Father” and “of one/same substance (homoousios) with the Father,” affirmed the Son’s deity as a sharer directly of the Father’s nature, unlike any creatures. When homoousios was added, the Arians protested the term’s unbiblical origin, but Athanasius countered that their objections belied their real agenda, since the term could not be reconciled with their Christology. Furthermore, their protest rang hollow, since their own catchphrases were also unscriptural as well as doctrinally unsound.
Once the doctrinal issue was settled, additional conciliar discussions involved establishing the date of Easter, resolving the Melitian schism and celebrating Constantine’s 20th anniversary in imperial capacity. By July 30, 325, Constantine had left, and the council adjourned by Aug. 25.
The Legacy of Nicaea
What does the Nicene Creed say/mean, and how does it respond to Arianism? Nicaea 325 clearly affirms monotheism: There is only one God. Jesus is the only begotten Son of God, and not a creature but actually God, sharing the essence of God. He is from God and with God, a distinct divine Person, not a created being different in nature from the Father. The Son is the agent of creation and of salvation, which is effected for us through the Son’s incarnation, death and resurrection. The Son ascended to His eternal glory with the Father and will return. Finally, Nicaea affirms belief in the Holy Spirit. To be abundantly clear on Christology, the council officially cursed any talk of the Son being less than God or a created being, inferior to God.
Athanasius succeeded bishop Alexander in 326 and continued struggling against Arianism late into the fourth century. His own legacy was confirmed at the ratification of the expanded creed at Constantinople in 381, the Nicene Creed Christians recite today. Some of Athanasius’ most incisive points express Arianism’s consequences for our salvation and eternal life: No creature can save another creature, only God can fully and truly save. If Christ is not fully God, then we are not saved. The message of the Gospel is that God, in Christ, reconciled the world to Himself, and this was possible because Christ was the eternal Word made flesh (Jn1:14, 18), who was indwelt bodily by the fullness of the godhead (Col 1, 2).
The creed of Nicaea stands as a powerful statement against any heterodox explanations of the Son as a lesser god, a track that leads only to tritheism or accusations of idolatry, questioning Jesus’ claims to deity and His self-affirmations of oneness with the Father and the Spirit. Thus, it has endured these 1,700 years, serving the church in several ways: affirming sound doctrine as a public, oral witness; catechizing baptismal candidates, who memorized, studied and “gave back” the creed before baptism; and providing a rubric for assessing all other teaching on the doctrine of God. Not everyone owned Bibles, but they did have this pattern of sound teaching received at baptism. Finally, the creed serves today as a unifying doctrinal baseline marker for all Christians who believe the Bible’s teaching about Christ, even across denominations.