Ancient Church

Oddly enough, despite all of the pain and discord that Arius caused in the Church, there were actually some beneficial things which can really be credited to his influence. In order to understand how, we need to think about the way that doctrine was gradually defined — not developed — but defined and clarified in the early centuries. Since Christianity was originally rooted in an oral tradition, the details about much of what consitutes the Faith were not found in writings. Rather, there is every indication that the core, the corpus of the Faith, remained oral in nature, and was not specifically discussed simply because there was no need to discuss it.

What caused this to change was the successive attacks of heretics. The wave of gnostics forced the Church to address the person of Christ as Logos, as Creator. Thus we find St. Justin Martyr and St. Iranaeus starting to explain the Logos. Later, by attacking the Divinity of Christ, Arius forced the Church to explicitly address that issue. St. Athanasius in particular led the defense in this regard. It is important to realize, however, that when St. Justin Martyr or St. Athanasius wrote and taught, they were not developing new doctrine, but simply taking what was already believed and giving it form and context.

So what are some of the benefits of Arius? For starters, his heresy led to greater official recognition of what had been already popularly believed, the veneration of the Virgin Mary, the Theotokos. This is because Christology and Theotokology are inextricably linked. If Jesus is God, then sheer logic suggests that Mary is the Mother of God. Thus, the struggle to define Christ as God necessarily led to the definition of Mary as the Theotokos.

Arguably another side effect of all this was the recognition of the Nativity — Christmas — as a feast of the Church. The early Church did not celebrate the Nativity. Indeed, the Feast of the Theophany (the Baptism of the Lord) was for many centuries by far the most significant winter feast. Yet by unpacking the notion of the Incarnation, of God born as man, it naturally followed that the Nativity became important to remember. If Jesus was not God, his Nativity becomes no important than, say, President’s Day. If he is God, as the Church had always taught, that is another kettle of fish altogether.

There are many other ways that heresy influenced doctrine, far more than these brief thoughts can cover. The truly important point is that belief never changed. Rather, the expression of that belief became more highly defined in response to outside attacks. What the enemies of the Orthodox Church call the development of doctrine was not development in the sense that doctrine changed. It was instead the explication of already existing belief, believed and followed throughout the Church.

St. Athanasius would die before Arianism was finally defeated in 381. Yet in the last fifteen years of his life, he shifted from a writer of fiery polemical tracts against the heresy to a statesman-like role. Athanasius recognized that many of the divisions among those opposed to Arianism arose from confusion over terms. He thereafter dedicated himself to resolving those artificial differences, strengthening the hand of those who faithfully followed the Nicene Creed.

The problem arose from the term used to indicate to express the distinctiveness of the Son as opposed to the Father. The word used is hypostasis, and it means something which exists in its own right. The term was widely used to express the different persons of Father and Son, but some had begun to use it in its plural form — hypostases — to combat Sabellianism, a heresy which said that Father, Son and Holy Spirit were simply adjectives describing different attributes of God. The use of the plural, however, was thought to go too far by others, who feared that it suggested not Trinitarianism, but polytheism. All parties concerned were opposed to the Arians, but their own differences served to keep them from effectively uniting.

In the summer of 362, the saint convened a meeting in Alexandria to try to sort the matter out. Athanasius perceived that Orthodoxy lay not in terms, but in intention. He could see that those who used the term hypostases were fully Orthodox, and that the dispute was not an important one. This was an important step in solidifying the opposition to Arianism, and would eventually lead to the downfall of the heresy.

St. Athanasius reposed on May 2, 373. The task of completing his work fell to the Cappadocian Fathers: St. Basil of Caesarea, St. Gregory of Nazianzus and Basil\’s younger brother, St. Gregory of Nyassa. Yet without the steadfast efforts of St. Athanasius, Arianism may well have won the day. In a very real way, the saint preserved Orthodoxy.

Christ and Arianism in the Writings of St. Athanasius

The nature of Christ was always a particular passion of the Saint, even before Arius began his teaching. Of course, he composed many writings specifically directed against Arianism, but throughout his life, in all of his writings, one finds a common thread of recognition of the fully divine Christ, and love for His person and work. It is interesting to survey those writings, separately from his polemics written specifically against the heresy, to ascertain the depth of the Saint\’s great love for Christ.

In an early and very famous work, On the Incarnation, written in about 318, he spends considerable time outlining the work and nature of Christ the Logos. The clear understanding of the full divinity of the Logos is obvious. For example, in a passage speaking of the necessity of the Word taking human form to rescue man, he says:

The Word perceived that corruption could not be got rid of otherwise than through death; yet He Himself, as the Word, being immortal and the Father’s Son, was such as could not die. For this reason, therefore, He assumed a body capable of death, in order that it, through belonging to the Word who is above all, might become in dying a sufficient exchange for all.

Elsewhere, speaking of the salvific work, he explains:

Men could not have done it, for they are only made after the Image; nor could angels have done it, for they are not the Images of God. The Word of God came in His own person, because it was He alone, the Image of the Father, Who could recreate man made after the Image.

In sum he quoted Is 63:9: “It was no ambassador, no angel who saved us, but the Lord Himself.”

Later, St. Athanasius would use the occasion of the writing of his hagiography of St. Anthony, the renowned Father of monasticism, to address the theological controversy in which he was embroiled. The Life of Antony is notable in its own right: it was apparently the first hagiography written of a saint who was not also a martyr. Written shortly after Antony’s death in 356, it is a deeply felt remembrance of a man who in all likelihood was Athanasius’ spiritual father. In describing St. Anthony’s forthright Orthodoxy, Athanasius describes a journey Anthony made from the desert to Alexandria to teach:

He taught the people that the Son of God is not a creature, and that He did not come into existence from non-being, but rather that He is eternal Word and Wisdom from the essence of the Father. “So,” he asserted, “it is sacrilegious to say ‘there was when he was not’ for the Word coexisted with the Father always.” Therefore you are to have no fellowship with the most ungodly Arians, for there is no fellowship of light with darkness.

Finally, in A Letter to Marcellinus, written to commend to a friend the study of the Psalms, the Saint declares the role of Christ in words both loving and fearful:

For this reason, indeed, He not only taught, but also accomplished what he taught, so that everyone might hear when He spoke, and seeing as in an image, receive from Him the model for acting, hearing Him say “Learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart.” A more perfect instruction in virtue one could not find than that which the Lord typified in Himself. For whether the issue is forbearance of evil, or love of mankind, or goodness, or courage, or compassion, or pursuit of justice, one will discover all present in Him, so that nothing is lacking f9r virtue to one who considers closely this human life of His.

In his life, in his writings, in his fierce and steadfast devotion to the Faith, St. Athanasius provides an enduring inspiration to all who love Christ, and His Church.

Fair warning here: I am deep in working on a paper concerning St. Athanasius of Alexandria and his struggle against Arianism. If you have read me for a while, you know that as I think about and work on my papers, my readers bear the brunt of my thinking out loud, as it were. Sorry, but it’s that time again.

Arius was a priest in Alexandria. He developed an exegesis of Proverbs 8:22-31 et seq, the passage beginning “The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of old.” The passage is referring to Wisdom. Arius derived from this the notion that Christ, who is often identified as Wisdom in Proverbs, is a created creature. This is the same belief held by modern Arians, whom we know as Jehovah’s Witnesses. From this simple, albeit misguided, exegesis, the entire world was thrown into upheaval, which lasted for most of the fourth century.

Arius was apparently quite a charismatic character, although his description does not quite match up to the trouble that he caused. He was born in Libya, but raised in Antioch. A contemporary, Epyphonius, described him as tall and grave, with a winning personality. He always walked about barefoot, and led an ascetic life. Despite what appears to be an unassuming personality, Arius fervently marketed his teaching. Throughout the controversy, the world was treated to Arians singing popular ditties relating their theology. One writer of the period complained that it was impossible to go to the market without having to listen to such songs, and engaging in theological dispute with the butcher, the fruit vendor and the bath attendant.

The dispute tore the Christian world apart, especially in the East. In reaction, the Emperor Constantine the Great (who was born in England by the way) in 325 convened a great council of bishops to address the controversy. Meeting in Nicaea, 318 bishops deliberated and debated the issue. Among them was the bishop of Alexandria, named Alexander, and his young deacon, Athanasius. This council would later be recognized as the first Ecumenical Council, one of seven which would produce the dogmatic statements that are so important in Holy Tradition. The bishops produced what we now know as the Nicene Creed, although a few
of the final clauses were added at a later council. As adopted in Nicaea, it reads, in part, like this:

I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and
invisible; and in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the only-begotten of the Father, begotten before all ages, light of light, true God of true God, begotten not made, being one with the Father, through whom all things were made…

Yet despite the clear repudiation of Arianism at the Council, and his subsequent banishment from Alexandria, the battle was actually only beginning. Over thirty years later, Jerome would lament “The world woke up and groaned to find itself Arian…” In that battle, the young Deacon Athanasius, who would succeed Alexander as Bishop of Alexandria in 328, played a pivotal role.

More later.