If history is life’s teacher, we can judge an institution that has existed for two millennia to be privileged! Nothing, except the ever-new action of Providence, is new for the Catholic Church. In the face of the unprecedented storms of the 21st century, she can proudly say: “I have seen other winds, I have faced other storms with the same courage.”1
In this year in which we commemorate the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, let us consider some of the most topical teachings from that great assembly, the first two of which present themselves even before the princes of the Church were even assembled.
First lesson: danger begins with victory
Emerging triumphantly from the catacombs after the Edict of Milan, the Mystical Bride of Christ soon had to face new enemies: the heresies, which had hardly appeared during the times of persecution. Arianism, Sabellianism, Novatianism, Donatism, Meletianism and Manichaeism were some of the errors that raged during that period.
At the centre of the controversies were the doctrines concerning the Blessed Trinity and the Incarnation of the Word. In particular, Arianism preached that the Word was a creature of the Father, expressly denying the divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the very foundation of Christianity!
The founder of this sect was Arius, a priest who lived in the city of Alexandria,2 where he was responsible for the important church of Baucalis. Claiming to possess extraordinary knowledge and wisdom, he was obstinate in spreading his errors, despite the insistent admonitions of Patriarch Alexander and even the formal condemnation of his doctrines by a local council. The danger grew as his heresy swept throughout the empire and formed a pernicious current. The Council of Nicaea therefore rose up against it.
Warfare is an essential aspect of the Church Militant, and is manifested when she denounces the wolves that make their way into the flock
Right here, then, we can consider the first lesson of this council: struggle is an essential aspect of the Church Militant. The victory signalled by the Edict of Milan only marked the beginning of another battle. We do not have the right to indulge in optimism: the Church’s enemies do not sleep and will always look for new and cunning plans to fight her, especially if they perceive that the vigilance of those who must defend her has cooled. Not without reason did the Divine Master warn the Apostles: “I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves” (Mt 10:16).
Sheep and wolves… let us keep that image in mind for the next lesson.
Lesson two: lost sheep or wolves in disguise?
At this point, the reader may be wondering: if Arius was so perverse, how did he come to be the parish priest of one of the main churches in Alexandria?
This fact is even more perplexing when we consider that, while still a layman, he had been a supporter of the doctrines of Meletius, the schismatic Bishop of Lycopolis. After the latter’s excommunication, the Patriarch of Alexandria judged, without further ado, that the young Arius had returned to the right path and allowed him to enter the presbytery. It cannot be denied that if the “illustrious one” as he called himself had not been given access to the pulpit, he would have enjoyed far less influence.
Much is said about negative rash judgements, but alas! Little is mentioned of rash judgements involving positive assumptions!
Constantine also showed naivety in this regard. As soon as he learned of the spread of Arianism throughout the empire, he set about achieving an incongruous unity between heretics and the orthodox. He claimed that the cause of the division was insignificant, since it was not a matter of dogma. Now, if there is one essential point in the Catholic Faith, it is precisely the divinity of Christ!
Only upon the insistence of Bishop Hosius of Cordoba, his minister for ecclesiastical affairs, did the emperor accept the need for a clear definition.
But we were talking about sheep and wolves… The parable of the Good Shepherd and the lost sheep is undoubtedly moving and very true. And yet “what should we say, on the other hand,” asks Dr. Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira, “of the Catholic who, overcoming countless obstacles, descends to the bottom of the abyss, at risk to himself, and there lovingly gathers into his arms a cunning wolf, gently stroking its pretence of sheepskin; who triumphantly opens the door of the sheepfold with his ‘conquest’, there to set loose the product of his charitable apostolate; and, after a long and tender look at the joy with which the new ‘little sheep’ is ‘fraternizing’ with the others, goes to sleep on the laurels of such a brilliant achievement?”3 Let us look for an answer in another of the Divine Master’s teachings.
If he thereby contributes to a single soul being led astray from the path of virtue, “it would be better for him,” says the Incarnate Wisdom, “if a great millstone were hung round his neck and he were thrown into the sea” (Mk 9:42).
This is the second lesson of the Council of Nicaea: when we see wolves disguised as sheep in Our Lord’s flock, “we must tear off the sheepskin and cry out, ‘This is a wolf!’”4
Inset: detail of “The wolf and the lamb”, by Jean-Baptiste Oudry
The Council assembled
Acting on the advice of Hosius, Constantine then sent letters to the bishops of the whole world, inviting them to meet in Nicaea, in Asia Minor. The emperor was so keen for the prelates to attend that he was prepared to pay for their travelling expenses and their stay in the city. The inaugural session took place on May 20, 325 and was attended by three hundred and eighteen bishops.
The West was represented by few prelates: apart from Hosius himself, only three others. However, the presence of Vitus and Vincent, delegates of Pope St. Sylvester, whose advanced age did not allow for such a long journey, ensured the universality of the council.
The Arian party numbered around twenty-two bishops. Like vultures circling their prey, there were also some pagan and eclectic philosophers who saw the new doctrine as an opportunity for a nefarious rapprochement between paganism and Christianity.
After a series of private meetings at which Arius was invited to expound his doctrine, the first public and solemn session was held on June 19, attended by Constantine.
Third lesson: words persuade, example moves
The scene must have been moving. To defend orthodoxy, countless valiant confessors of the Faith were meeting for the first time.
Among the most illustrious were St. James of Nisibis and St. Spyridon, renowned wonderworkers who were said to have brought the dead back to life; St. Paphnutius of Thebes, whose persecutors had gouged out his right eye and cut off his left lower leg; Paul of Neocaesarea, whose hands were completely burned as a result of the torture he had suffered for Christ. An ancient historian said of this respectable gathering: “It was an assembly of martyrs.”5
In addition to them, the venerable Patriarch of Alexandria, St. Alexander, was also present, accompanied by a deacon whom history would consecrate as the main exponent of the fight against Arianism: St. Athanasius.
Although he could not attend the official sessions reserved for the bishops, the young Athanasius, endowed with a fiery personality and agile thinking – but, above all, with the special assistance of grace – was to be found in the corridors of the imperial palace, holding meetings and debates in which he revealed himself as the terror of the heretics.
These considerations lead us to our third lesson: in the clash between truth and error, integrity is the most powerful weapon of the good.
If in Nicaea the heterodox party had the benefit of influential and cultured members, the true doctrine had in its favour the eloquent example of the confessors: their wounds had testified to Christ’s divinity long before their tongues! If we want to be counted among the champions of the Holy Church in these calamitous times, we must seek holiness of life first and foremost.
Fourth lesson: holy intransigence pleases God
Among the participants in the first ecumenical council, there was a figure as famous as he is well liked: Bishop St. Nicholas of Myra. In him, his well-known charity towards the poor coexisted with an ardent zeal for the integrity of the Faith.
In fact, the holy Bishop had shown great courage in enduring captivity for the name of Christ. After his release, he came to Nicaea with his face blackened by the fires of torment.
It is said that, overcome with indignation at the blasphemies uttered by Arius, Nicholas slapped him so hard that the impious man fell to the ground! The heretic’s supporters were quick to launch theatrical protests of outrage, which led to the zealous man being incarcerated and stripped of his episcopal dignity.
However, that very night Jesus Christ Himself visited him, accompanied by His Blessed Mother. The Saviour asked him the reason for his arrest, to which the shepherd of Myra replied: “Lord, I am here because I have zealously defended Thy divinity.” Then, as he received the book of the Gospels from the divine hands, St. Nicholas heard the Lord say to him: “Leave this prison, for I restore your dignity.” At the same time, Our Lady placed the pallium on his shoulders.
Holy intransigence is rewarded with the approval of Our Lord. The ideas of Arius proved so scandalous that it was necessary to condemn them
When the prelate in charge of his detainment saw the Saint freed from his shackles and reinvested with his insignia, he was astonished and immediately opened the cell, listening to the old man tell the story in all simplicity. The next day, after learning of the miracle, his brothers in the episcopate and the emperor readmitted Nicholas to the sessions.6
The eloquent episode itself is a lesson. Faithful Catholics will always be the object of incomprehension, persecution and condemnation: “If the world hates you, know that it has hated Me before it hated you. […] If they persecuted Me, they will persecute you” (Jn 15:18, 20). But holy intransigence is rewarded with the approval of Our Lord and His exalted Mother. Who could wish for more?
Lesson five: clarity of the Church’s voice
The ideas of Arius proved so scandalous that the Council soon came to the conclusion that they had to be condemned.
The difficulty lay in defining the truth in precise and unequivocal terms, since the heretical party had managed to come up with dubious interpretations of expressions already enshrined in Scripture. It is thought that it was the president of the assembly, Hosius of Cordoba, who found the appropriate formulation: Christ is homoousios – ὁμοούσιος, consubstantial with the Father.
Realizing that it was useless to maintain open opposition, some heretics tried a cowardly and sibylline way out. As they agreed with the conciliar declaration, they introduced a discreet ι – iota – into the key word of the symbol, changing it to homoiousios, that is, of substance similar to the Father. Thus, the accursed offshoot remained hidden in the heart of the Church, waiting for more favourable circumstances to arise, which were not long in coming – due mainly, it must be said, to Constantine’s fickleness. At the end of his life he abandoned the Creed of Nicaea, siding with the enemies of the Faith. Once again, the eternal tactic of evil presented itself: ambiguous formulations.
The vast majority of the Council Fathers, for their part, acclaimed the Bishop of Cordoba’s formulation as the most trustworthy expression of the Catholic Faith and introduced it into the drafting of a new symbol, which made explicit the truths already contained in the Apostles’ Creed. This was the Symbol of Nicaea, which would later be completed by another council, forming what we pray today under the title of the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed.
The Church thus affirmed its faith in “one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages. God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial – homoousios – with the Father.”7 And in the text of the symbol itself, he declared: “But those who say, ‘There was a time when He was not,’ and, “before He was begotten He was not”, and that He was made of that which previously was not”, or that the Son of God was of some other substance or essence or created, or mutable or alterable, those the Catholic Church anathematizes.”8
Doctrinal ambiguity and confusion are typical of the sons of darkness, while the Church’s voice is unmistakably clear in teaching Faith and morals
Seeing this wording as a way of ensuring his longed-for unity for the time being, Constantine endorsed it with an imperial measure: those who refused to subscribe would be exiled. Such was the fate of two Egyptian bishops, as well as Arius himself and some of his supporters.
Perhaps this is the main lesson of Nicaea for our times. The devil fishes in murky waters. Doctrinal ambiguity, vagueness and confusion are characteristic of the children of darkness. On the other hand, the voice of the Church, the Mystical Bride of the One who defined Himself as the Truth, is clear and unmistakable. In fact, in addition to the governance and sanctification of souls, ministers have the task of teaching the truths of the Faith and morals with clarity.
One thousand seven hundred years later
Once the discussions were over, the council submitted its conclusions to the Roman Pontiff, St. Sylvester, who fully approved them. The fight against Arianism, however, was only definitively won in Constantinople in 381.
Even so, the Council of Nicaea stands out as one of the most important and glorious episodes in ecclesiastical history. It was, in the words of St. Augustine, “the universal council whose decrees are like heavenly commandments.”9 And to the Doctor of Hippo’s praise, we can well add that not only its decrees, but also its history is a source of teachings for the Church, even after 1,700 years! ◊
Notes
1 CICERO, Marcus Tullius. In L Calpurnium Pisonem oratio, c.IX, n.21.
2 Historians are divided on his place of birth: some believe he was Lebanese, others from Alexandria (cf. BOULENGER, Auguste. Histoire générale de l’Église. L’Antiquité Chrétienne. Lyon-Paris: Emmanuel Vitte, 1932, v.III, p.27).
3 CORRÊA DE OLIVEIRA, Plinio. Lobos e ovelhas [Wolves and Sheep]. In: Legionário. São Paulo. Year XV. N.473 (Oct. 5, 1941), p.2.
4 CORRÊA DE OLIVEIRA, Plinio. Conference. São Paulo, 26/1/1985.
5 TEODORETO DE CIRO. História Eclesiástica. L.I, c.7.
6 Cf. PERO-SANZ, José Miguel. San Nicolás. De Obispo a Santa Claus. Madrid: Arcaduz, 2002, p.81-82.
7 DH 125.
8 DH 126.
9 ST. AUGUSTINE, apud RIVAUX, Jean-Joseph. Tratado de História Eclesiástica. Brasília: Pinus, 2011, v.I, p.258.
