Imagine: all your life, you have never before thought of yourself as religious; you have never even attended church. But, one Sunday morning, something leads you into church: perhaps a friend invites you, or maybe you are curious, and want to know just what this church thing is all about. So you show up: there’s music, people in fancy clothing; readings from holy texts, and a long talk about how those readings apply to your life today. And then, everyone around you stands as able, and recites: “We believe in one God…” What? We do? You did not sign up for anything! What is it that “we” believe? 

Or instead, imagine this: you are a lifelong Episcopalian, baptized and confirmed in the church, and whenever you move to a new town, your first priority is to find the nearest Episcopal church. You have served on the vestry, countless church committees, and taught Sunday School. God is at the center of your life. When you attend worship, you rarely pick up the prayer book; you know the liturgy by heart. And then, one Sunday, as you stand following the sermon to recite the Nicene Creed, a thought strikes you: when was the last time you really thought about the words you know by memory? Do you really “believe” what you profess in the Creed? 

The story of the Creeds – what we know as the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds – is a story both of long history, and of specific events in time. What many Christian traditions hold to be full statements of faith, concise and timeless summaries of what we think it means to follow the way Jesus of Nazareth, are actually compositions by select individuals in response to specific controversies of their day. To begin an exploration of the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds, first we must turn to one of the great heretics of the church: Arius. 

The Arian Controversy

German theologian Walter Bauer suggested that Orthodoxy – those widely accepted statements of our faith – is “nothing more than heresy that happened to win out – and promptly tried to suppress its rivals and silence their voices.” (1) Arius was one such voice suppressed by the church for his beliefs about the personhood of Jesus. Among the debates of the early Christians, many involved attempts to explain just who Jesus is: Jesus as God, and Jesus as a human. Beginning in the late third century, a priest in Alexandria named Arius, utilizing Biblical references in support of his teachings, suggested that Jesus is a distinct being with distinct creation within history, and is subordinate to God the Father. (2) At its core, Jesus is a created being and not divine, even if Jesus is distinct from all other created beings. (3)

This is tempting, as such a belief makes Jesus easy to understand from a human point of view: there is a moment of Jesus’ creation, even though Arius conceded that this moment of creation occurred prior to his birth in Bethlehem. Jesus is a “super human” of sorts. But this negates any belief in God as Trinity, and poses another problem, as argued by a contemporary of Arius. Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria in the early fourth century, countered: if Jesus is fundamentally a creature and not divine, then how could Jesus redeem humanity in the action of his death and resurrection? (4) To opponents of Arius, the ability for Jesus to serve as Savior falls apart with the rejection of Jesus as God. 

The Response to Arius: The Nicene Creed

As the controversy of Arius continued into the fourth century, the need for official statements from the church regarding the true beliefs of Christianity became clear. Christians already embraced several statements of faith, but none sufficiently addressed Arius. The church was in need of an all-encompassing Creed – from the Latin credo, “I believe.” 

Statements of belief predate Jesus. The Jewish people looked to a portion of the Book of Deuteronomy as just such a statement. In what is known as the Shema, we are told, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.” (5) The Shema makes a clear declaration about our relationship to our one God, who we ought to love above anyone else. But who is God? How does God interact with the world? Early Christians took this simple statement and imposed Jesus into their understanding, given that Jesus lifted up the Shema as the first and greatest commandment. (6) Likewise, in several of Paul’s letters, the response “Jesus is Lord” explains just who is the Lord our God.

Second century Christian Apologists – defenders of the faith – began to expand upon the understanding of God beyond our scriptural tradition. Ignatius of Antioch wrote about the truths to Jesus’ birth, crucifixion, and resurrection, and Justin Martyr (you might guess what happened to him) expanded a rudimentary understanding of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. (7) But the first example of a complete statement of Christian belief is attributed to the Roman author Hippolytus from the first quarter of the third century. Writing in the text Apostolic Traditions, we receive the earliest form of what is now known as the Apostles’ Creed:

Do you believe in God, the Father almighty?
Do you believe in Christ Jesus, Son of God, who was born by the Holy Spirit out of Mary the Virgin, and was crucified under Pontius Pilate and died and was buried, and rose on the third day alive from among the dead, and ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father, to come to judge the living and the dead?
Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Church, and the resurrection of the flesh? (8)

This text comes in the form of questions, asked of those about to be baptized, who would (one hopes) respond in the affirmative to each question. Not only is this text structured on the three persons of the Trinity, but acts as a gatekeeper, of sorts: before one enters fully into the faith in baptism, one must subscribe to these beliefs. But in its brevity, this creed – and later versions, which replace the structure of questions with direct statements of “I believe” – omits any true understanding about the relationship between the three persons of the Trinity. And when Arius’ teachings rose in popularity, this remained a problem. 

Constantine, in his embrace of Christianity, called together a gathering of all of the bishops of the church in 325 to address the controversies of the day; at least 300 of them made the journey to Nicaea, what is now İznik, Turkey. In attendance at the Council of Nicaea was Athanasius, promoting his understanding of that Jesus was indeed divine as well as human. This won out in the text produced by the Council: 

We believe in one God, the Father, almighty, maker of all things visible and invisible;
And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten from the Father, only-begotten, that is, from the substance of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten not made, of one substance with the Father, through whom all things came into being, things in heaven and things on earth, who because of us men and because of our salvation came down and became incarnate, becoming man, suffered and rose again on the third day, ascended to the heavens, will come to judge the living and the dead;
And in the Holy Spirit.
But as for those who say, there was when He was not, and that He came into existence out of nothing, or who assert that the Son of God is of a different hypostasis [being] or substance, or is subject to alteration or change – these the Catholic and apostolic Church anathematizes [states as being outside official Church teaching]. (9)

This statement is notable for its innovations. Immediately, the text claims universality throughout the church by the inclusive use of “We believe…” rather than individual, “I” language. The understanding of the Holy Spirit was not up for debate, and so receives only a passing mention. But the section on Jesus is a shift from prior Creeds, moving from historical to including doctrine, statements of the nature of God. The statement by the Council of Nicene makes clear that Jesus is “from the substance of the Father” and that, beyond just expressing the historical narrative of Jesus’ birth, death, resurrection, and ascension, Jesus is equal in divinity: Jesus is God, too. Jesus came to earth “because of our salvation,” making clear that the divine person of Jesus is necessary for our salvation. And finally, just in case the point was not clear enough, a concluding statement calls out Arius and his followers as being outside of official church teaching: essentially, by holding these beliefs, they cannot call themselves Christian. 

But this first version of the Nicene Creed has some faults: in the debate regarding Arius’ teachings, the resulting statement is a clear reaction, neglecting any statements about the nature of the Holy Spirit, as well as dropping mention of the Church and the resurrection as mentioned in the previous Apostles’ Creed. Indeed, in response, Arius shifted his teachings to suggest that the Holy Spirit, too, is not God but a creature of God. 

A second council was called in Constantinople in 381, this time attended entirely by opponents of Arius’ teachings. Without any controversy at hand, this council produced a statement that removed the final admonition, expanded on the understanding Holy Spirit and the teachings of the church, all in a language that was easily recited in worship:

We believe in one God, the Father all mighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible;

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, Begotten from the Father before all time, Light from Light, True God from True God, begotten not made, of the same substance as the Father, through whom all things were made; who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and became human. He was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate, and suffered, and was buried, and rose on the third day, according to the scriptures, and ascended to heaven, and sits on the right hand of the Father, and will come again with glory to judge the living and the dead. His kingdom shall have no end.

And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord the Giver of life, who proceeds from the Father, who together with the Father and Son is worshiped and glorified, who spoke through the prophets; and in one holy, catholic, and apostolic church. We confess one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. We look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.

This statement, technically the Constantinopolitan Creed, is the basis of what has endured through the ages as the Nicene Creed. Despite its origins in controversy, this remains the common expression of Christian faith made universal.

Divisive Language: Split of East and West

Over the centuries to follow, this universal statement of faith became subject to further interpretation, as generations of church leaders continued to discuss the nature of God. In an attempt to clarity the nature of the Holy Spirit, the Third Council of Toledo added the words “and the Son” to the line “And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord the Giver of life, who proceeds from the Father …” in 589. (10) This addition only took hold in western churches, centered in Rome.

For centuries, this addition only had an affect on local tradition, but in the midst of greater conflict between East and West, this phrase became a spark point in 1054, resulting in the permanent separation of the Roman churches of the West and Orthodox churches of the East. What results is two different expression of God’s truth. With the addition of “and the Son,” (11) the Creed speaks to human experience and the reception of the Holy Spirit as a gift following Jesus’ ascension; without it, the Creed highlights the oneness of God as Trinity and avoids the possibility of belief that the Holy Spirit is subordinate by coming from the Father and the Son. (12)  Regardless of these nuances, the phrase accomplishes the precise opposite of why the Nicene Creed was written in the first place, dividing Christians rather than unifying us. The Episcopal Church, among other denominations, in an effort to restore the divided churches, has pledged to remove the words “and the Son” in any revised prayer books in the future. (13)

An Attempt at Unity in Episcopal Church Identity

The Episcopal Church – as is the case with worldwide Anglicans – does not hold a specific confession of faith as many other modern expressions of Christianity do, such as the Augsburg Confession within the Lutheran tradition. But, as an interest in restoring unity within the many divisions among Christian churches grew in the mid-1800s, leaders in the Episcopal Church posed a simple question: what is essential for Christian identity in the eyes of Episcopalians? From that question came four basic principles, as proposed by Episcopal priest William Reed Huntington first in 1870. Now known as the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral, for the locations in which the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, both bodies, respectively, adopted its text: (a) the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments; (b) the Apostles’ Creed as the Baptismal Symbol, and the Nicene Creed as “the sufficient statement of the Christian faith;” (c) the Sacraments of Baptism and Eucharist; and (d) the Historic Episcopate. (4)

The Apostles’ Creed is identified with its historic connection to baptism, and indeed forms the foundation of the Baptismal Covenant in Episcopal worship. (15)  The Nicene Creed is “the sufficient statement” of faith, and as Stephen Sykes contends, it is this statement that is the “reference to the narrative world of the Scriptures.” (16) Our creedal statements are not themselves important, but help us to better understand God’s word in scripture – and thus God as God’s self. 

Wrestling with Belief

A few years ago, I presented on the Nicene Creed to my parish. As part of the class, I invited each participant to fill out a survey, exploring each line of the Nicene Creed, anonymously reporting whether they indeed believed in what was stated, did not believe in that line, or somewhere in between. To get a broader sample, I shared the survey on social media, and nearly 150 people from throughout the country offered their thoughts about the Nicene Creed. Every single line, from “We believe in one God” to “the life of the world to come,” received at least two responses in disagreement. The most controversial statement was the phrase “and the Son.” Though not every response came from an Episcopalian, nearly 84% identified as such, and an additional 7% reported, in good modern fashion, “it’s complicated.” 

If a random grouping of 150 people who bothered to think enough about the Nicene Creed to fill out a survey cannot agree on even one aspect of this statement of belief, what are we doing? In one sense, this is Anglicanism at its core: we do not all agree on doctrine, yet come together to worship God in community. But we should not simply ignore those moments in the Creeds that cause us to hesitate. As seen in the survey, each line had some amount of disagreement, but every line had overwhelming agreement. The beauty of the Nicene Creed employing “we,” communal language, is that even when an individual has questions, the community continues upholding the faith. And when we find those moments that make us question, we are invited to seek out more, finding greater truths about our loving God within our vast tradition of scripture and writings – and from our fellow Christians who walk in faith alongside us. 

Conclusion: How Ought We Receive the Creeds?

Step back and recall the two example individuals in the beginning: one who had no experience within the church, and another whose life is steeped in faith. You probably do not relate exactly to either, though perhaps, at one moment or another in your life, these examples come close. The Creeds challenge and inspire novice and expert alike. And, as we have seen, the Creeds have the power to unite Christians, but also divide us, as the church universal remains divided as ever. 

So we uphold the Creeds for what they are: documents that are both from a specific moment in time, and yet also timeless, knitting together Christians across generation and place. At their best, the Creeds serve not as objects of devotion to themselves, but as lenses to a clearer image of God at work in the world, the crucified Christ who so loved us all – and who loves you – that he gave his life so we might gain life eternal.

1. Alister McGrath, Heresy, (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2009), 2.

2. Throughout this essay, I use the traditional names for each person of the Trinity as stated in the Creeds and accepted by many church traditions. Despite the gendered nature of this language, God should not be presumed to inhabit any one gender identity to the exclusion of others; we are all lovingly made in God’s image.

3. Heresy, 143-4.

4. Ibid, 146.

5. Deuteronomy 6:4-5 (NRSV).

6. Mark 12:28-30.

7. Luke Timothy Johnson, The Creed: What Christians Believe and Why it Matters, (New York: Doubleday, 2003), 22-24.

8. Ibid, 30.

9.  J.N.D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, (London: Longman Group Limited, 1972), 215-6. 

10. The Creed, 230.

11. Commonly referred to by the Latin filioque.

12. The Creed, 230-1.

13.  Journal of the 71st General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America Otherwise Known as The Episcopal Church 1994 (New York: The General Convention, 1994), 351, 767-8, 840. 

14.  The Book of Common Prayer (1979), 877-8; the version adopted by the Episcopal Church 1886 is slightly different and found on p. 877. 

15. Ibid, 304.

16.  Stephen W. Sykes, “Anglicanism and the Anglican Doctrine of the Church,” Quadrilateral at One Hundred (Cincinnati, OH: Forward Movement Publications, 1988), 168.