Nicene Christianity: The Future for a New Ecumenism

By Baker Publishing Group

Explores the Nicene Creed both in light of what the Creed was about in its original setting and what it can contribute today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
• Release date: May 1, 2002
• ISBN: 9781441239112

Book preview

Contributors

Preface

The essays in this volume were originally delivered as papers at a conference held in January of 2001 at the Episcopal cathedral in Charleston, South Carolina. The conference was made possible by the vision and tenacity of three organizations—two Anglican and one Lutheran. They are S.E.A.D. (Scholarly Engagement with Anglican Doctrine), A.A.C. (American Anglican Council), and C.E.C.T (the Center for Evangelical and Catholic Theology). Each of these organizations has, in its own way, placed itself, as it were, in the breach and there stood with faith, hope, and charity (and, one should add, intellectual rigor) against forces whose desire to express Christian belief and practice in a more contemporary idiom has in fact led to their distortion and, on occasion, eclipse.

The conference and the presence of such a remarkable group of scholars were also made possible by the vision and tenacity of certain individuals. Deserving of first mention is the president of S.E.A.D., Professor Christopher Seitz of St. Andrews University. It was his fertile and bold mind that first dared think a conference such as this possible, and it has been his energy and devotion that have made what seemed at first a dream into a reality. Mention must also be made of the Right Reverend James Stanton, past president of the A.A.C. Without his support and that of the A.A.C., the organizers would have never found the financial means to bring this extraordinary group of scholars together. Special thanks are also due to the Right Reverend Edward Salmon, bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina; the Very Reverend William McKeachie, dean of St Luke and St. Paul’s Cathedral; and Martha Bailey, secretary both to the cathedral and to S.E.A.D.

Philip Turner

Dean of the Berkeley Divinity School at Yale (retired)

Introduction

Philip Turner

The poet Dylan Thomas, in his long prose poem A Child’s Christmas in Wales, notes that one Christmas he received a book that told him everything about the spider but why. I confess that I could very easily read everything about the spider and not ask why, but, in my case, I find such a lack of curiosity difficult to imagine when it comes to the creeds of the church. In this day and age, when creeds are regarded more often than not as outmoded restrictions on the free play of thought and imagination, a conference that proposes Nicene Christianity, and in particular the creed associated with this ecumenical council, as the basis of a new ecumenism is, to say the least, out of the ordinary. Even if one does not ask, the very existence of such a conference poses the question: Why?

The short answer is that the sponsoring organizations and the authors of the papers contained in this volume share a set of convictions about the nature of the church and about the place of theology within the life of the church. They believe these convictions provide a necessary basis for the renewal and reunion of the divided church. In contradistinction to the currently popular views that theology is best understood either as an attempt to give metaphorical expression to personal experience or as reflection upon forms of action directed by social and political goals, they hold that theology is properly understood as a practice with a soteriological goal that is properly carried out within the life of the church. They hold that theology receives its charter and subject matter from certain other practices or marks of the church that are themselves to be understood as works of the Spirit. In his treatise On the Councils of the Church, Martin Luther lists them as the preached word of God; the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper; church order and discipline; public prayer, praise, thanksgiving, and instruction; and finally, discipleship in suffering.[1]

I have no doubt that, given time and opportunity, the authors who contributed to this volume would characterize these practices in differing ways and give them differing emphases. Nevertheless, they all hold that theology is a church practice with a soteriological goal that is properly carried out within and in deference to this complex of practices. In keeping with these views, they hold also that theology, as a practice of the church, is responsible to the doctrines of the church as derived from Holy Scripture and given expression in the ecumenical creeds.

Why Nicene Christianity as the basis of a new ecumenism? Properly because it anchors the church in those beliefs and practices without which the church can preserve neither its unity in Christ nor its identity as Christian. Pragmatically because understanding Christian belief and practice either as an attempt to give expression to personal experience or as an engine that provides a religious motivation for political and social goals is an enterprise that, in the end, both distorts the Christian gospel and divides the church. It is not surprising, therefore, that S.E.A.D., A.A.C., and C.E.C.T. should sponsor a conference that focused on the Council of Nicea and its creed. Each of these organizations has a different history and each has developed a distinctive program. Nevertheless, they share a common concern, namely, the distorted and diminished character of Christian belief and practice that so characterizes not only the life of the denominations they represent but also that of the mainline churches in general. Each of these organizations has, in its own way, sought to awaken the churches in America to their plight and to recall them to forms of faith and practice that are both evangelical and catholic. Each has also insisted that such a work of reform and renewal requires more than fervor. It requires, as well, recovery of the full scope of the biblical narrative, a thorough inhabiting of the traditions of the church, and a critical engagement with the age in which we live. Each, in short, has insisted that the reform and renewal of the church simply cannot take place apart from an adequate theological base.

Nicene Christianity, and in particular the creed through which it is generally identified, provides an apt means to focus these shared concerns. From very early days, the creeds associated with the ecumenical councils have been taken as adequate summaries of both the biblical witness and the preaching and teaching of the church. Most, I suspect, know the fable told by Rufinus about the origin of the Apostles’ Creed. It provides in narrative form an account of what the church has, from an early age, taken the basic purpose of its creeds to be. In 404, Rufinus said this of the Apostles’ Creed:

As they were therefore on the point of taking leave of each other, they first settled an agreed norm for their future preaching so that they might not find themselves, widely separated as they would be, giving out different doctrines to the people they invited to believe in Christ. So they met together in one spot, and, being filled with the Holy Spirit, completed this brief token, as I have said, of their future preaching, each making the contribution that he thought fit: and they decreed that it be handed out as standard teaching to believers.[2]

The creeds thus served, and I believe continue to serve, as tokens or badges of Christian identity. They provided and continue to provide a norm both for reading the scriptures and for evangelization and instruction. They provide a means of recognition for God’s people, scattered as they are among the peoples of the earth. They have served both as a means of identity and as a basis for unity. Perhaps most of all, they contain the basic confession of Christians—a summary of their witness about the truth of God in Christ Jesus. Creeds are outlines of instruction, but they are also forms of witness, and thus they came, in time, to occupy an important place in the public worship of the church.

The confessional and unifying purposes of the creeds serve to explain their original connection with the instruction given people who were preparing for baptism. These purposes also explain why, in time, the creeds came to provide a means of ruling out certain false readings of the bible and certain false presentations of Christian belief and identity; they provided the basis of church doctrine. Thus, for example, to those who held that Christ was not fully God, it was necessary to say that he is God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten not made. But to those who insisted that he was not fully human, it was necessary to affirm that he was born of the Virgin Mary, became man, and was crucified under Pontius Pilate.

I am, of course, doing no more at this point than providing a reminder of what many already know about the place the creeds have occupied in the life of the church. In a positive sense, they have served as a guide to a correct reading of Scripture and an adequate expression of belief and identity. Negatively, they have served to rule out certain false readings and expressions. The question, of course, is whether they can or ought to continue to serve these functions. The papers here assembled defend the ability of the creeds to fulfill their historic function, but their authors are aware of the major problem the continued status of the creeds within the church presents. Some years back, Bishop, then Professor, Stephen Sykes identified this problem rather well in the discussion of Bishop Gore he included in his study The Integrity of Anglicanism.[3] In his attempt to come to terms with modernity, Bishop Gore made ample room for the findings of both literary and historical criticism in respect to the Bible. Nevertheless, he insisted that if anyone was to be a minister within the Church of England, that person must adhere to the creeds. He did not require such adherence of laypersons, but he did of the clergy. Indeed, he insisted that if the clergy could not accept the creedal miracles they should resign their orders.

Michael Ramsey, in An Era in Anglican Theology, From Gore to Temple, dealt a deadly blow to Gore’s position. If, he said, criticism is allowed to modify thus far the presentation of the faith (drawn from Holy Scripture), what if criticism questions the substance of the faith as the creeds affirm it?[4] In fact, criticism has indeed questioned the substance of the faith as affirmed in the creeds. Nevertheless, criticism can and should be answered. These essays respond to the critics of the creeds both by careful and close argument and by the reprise of the full breadth of their content.

This initial reminder of the nature and functions of the creeds, I grant, borders on banality. I enter it only to call attention to the place at which one must begin—with the nature and functions of the creeds as traditionally understood. However, in respect to the creeds, it would be quite ineffective to end with the beginning. The times require even of those who say the creeds without effacing them by means of a thousand qualifications that they give attention to each article and not simply to certain favored ones. In our time, the baleful results of what might be called creedal précis abound. One need look no further than the common habit among clergy of reducing their working creed to but a small part of a single article—for example, he came down from heaven . . . he became incarnate . . . and was made man. How frequently does one hear the incarnation depicted apart from the full narrative of Christ’s relation to both God and creation? In this truncated form, the second article of the creed (which displays the mystery of the incarnation), by an ironic inversion, becomes little more than a disembodied theological principle that can be used without restraint to bless the human condition simpliciter.[5] He was crucified, the phrase that displays most clearly the full meaning of the incarnation, does no theological work beyond pointing to a moral tragedy. Phrases like he ascended into heaven and he will come again to judge the living and the dead simply have no meaning at all.

In hands such as these, Christianity becomes a religion of meaning and personal affirmation rather than a religion of salvation. Truncated creeds no longer serve as tokens or badges of Christian identity. Rather, they serve as simulacra of idolatrous attachments. By curious inversion the creeds, partially explicated and partially confessed, can become vehicles of an alien way. I have put an extreme case on the basis of popular usage among some liberal Protestants. The more usual case is less dramatic, but only slightly less serious. De facto creedal abridgements can result in a distortion rather than a complete metamorphosis of Christian identity. I cite but two examples. The Orthodox churches of the East have complained for centuries that the Western emphasis on the second article and its relative indifference to the third have resulted in an inadequate account both of the church and the Christian life. More recently, Douglas Farrow, in Ascension and Ecclesia, has pointed to the way in which eclipse of the phrase he ascended into heaven within the Western church has led to profound distortions in its self-understanding.[6]

One could, I think, mount an entire conference on the subject of the distorting results of the various contemporary creedal précis. A critical exercise of this sort is not, however, the purpose of these essays. The purpose of this collection is clearly displayed by the fact that no article of the creed is left in the shadows. To leave any part of the creed, as it were, on the academic shelf, does no more than contribute yet another précis to the welter already available. No! If Nicene Christianity, as expressed in its creeds, is to form the basis of a future ecumenism, the unifying identity to which it at one time gave expression cannot be reborn by means of a reduction in its working content—a reduction that is, say, more easily suited to contemporary taste and opinion.

If the creed that gave Nicene Christianity its badge of identity is once more to provide a basis for an adequate reading of Holy Scripture, and if it is once more to provide the grammar for a unifying way of Christian speaking, it must be presented whole and with sufficient force to once again shape and unify the mind and heart of the church. It must, in short, once more provide the basis for right Christian usage. If such an eventuality were to occur, then there might indeed be a future for a new ecumenism. This ecumenism would not be based upon halting and, in the end, vain attempts to pick and choose between the perceived strengths of the various portions of Christ’s rent body. Rather, it would be based upon an attempt on the part of each fragment of the body to give up its pretensions and, in a state of humility and repentance, learn again to read the Bible with a common mind so as once again to witness and teach in a way that displays a common badge or token of Christian identity.

If the churches were to look at Nicene Christianity whole and afresh as the norm for reading Holy Scripture and as the grammar for Christian teaching and preaching, the exercise would, as the philosophers like to say, place them on all fours one with another. Each would have to approach the exercise as a little child learning to walk and talk. None could presume to be parent to the other. Were the churches to place themselves as what the New Testament refers to as mikroi or little ones under the tutelage of the Nicene fathers so as to learn as children, obedient to the commandment that requires honor to one’s father and mother, to read and speak adequately, we would indeed have a new ecumenism—one that has a future.

The creeds can indeed form the basis of a new ecumenism, but having said this it is immediately necessary also to say that, though they can provide a lens for reading Holy Scripture and a grammar for Christian speech, they cannot in and of themselves generate adequate usage on the part of God’s people. To change the metaphor, the various articles of the creeds can provide necessary topics for Christian speech, but they do not of themselves provide the full content of what needs to be said, nor do they supply the rhetorical tools to say what needs to be said in a way that is effective. Adequate exposition of these topics requires the practice of theology.

The creeds call for more than liturgical confession. Understood correctly, they invite the practice of theology into the center of the life of the church. The Nicene fathers understood this practice in a way that is different from ours. For us, theology is an academic discipline carried on by a professional guild ensconced in institutions of higher learning. For those at Nicea, theology was an aspect of an entire way of life, the purpose of which was the knowledge and love of God. As Tom Torrance has so well pointed out, for those at Nicea, there was a necessary connection between the rule of faith, explication, and godliness (eusebeia).[7] Right knowledge of God comes only insofar as the Scriptures are interpreted through the rule of faith in the context of the life and worship of the church and in an attitude of listening obedience. Reverence and holiness of life were thought by the Nicene Council to be particularly necessary for the practice of theology if in the exposition of Christian belief one was required to go beyond the actual words of Holy Scripture. In their minds, error was linked to ungodliness and ungodliness to error.

Nicene Christianity thus sounds an alarm for the contemporary church. The practice of theology, even a theology structured around the topics present in the creeds, can go wrong if it takes place apart from the life and worship of the church and apart from a form of life in which one learns both humility and charity. At present, the practice of theology takes place in exactly the way the council at Nicea suggested leads to error. If there is to be a new ecumenism rooted in Nicene Christianity, the setting and practice of theology will have to change in some very profound ways. In what will strike us as an amusing manner, the Council of Nicea has sent us a warning across time about the way in which the practice of theology is presently carried out, and it has done so by means of the its second canon. It reads in part as follows:

For as much as, either from necessity, or through the urgency of individuals, many things have been done contrary to the Ecclesiastical canon, so that men just converted from heathenism to the faith, and who have been instructed but a little while, are straightway brought to the spiritual laver, and as soon as they have been baptized, are advanced to the episcopate or the presbyterate (or we might add to a teaching position), it has seemed right to us that for the time to come no such thing shall be done. For to the catechumen himself there is need of time and of a longer trial after baptism. For the apostolical saying is clear, Not a novice; lest, being lifted up with pride, he fall into condemnation and the snare of the devil.

In respect to the practice of theology in the church, we might well repeat these words: Not a novice! The creeds in and of themselves are not a complete guide to Christian knowledge. On the one hand, they point to a way of reading the Holy Scriptures and, on the other, to a way of practicing theology that is very different from our own. Honoring the Council of Nicea as the source of a new ecumenism requires recovery of its way of reading the Holy Scriptures and its way of doing theology.

But proper honor requires even more than this. It should be noted that full to the overflowing as this volume is, its content does not itself give the full honor that is due. There is an aspect of Nicene Christianity that is addressed in these essays only partially and in brief. Only but one of the papers addresses church order. Nicea, Constantinople, Ephesus, and Chalcedon did more than agree on creedal statements; they also promulgated canons. To be sure, the content of these canons, on the whole, has less relevance to our situation than does the content of the creeds. One need look no farther than the first canon agreed upon at Nicea to see why, generally speaking, we center attention on the creed and ignore the canons. It reads as follows:

If anyone in sickness has been subjected by physicians to a surgical operation, or if he has been castrated by barbarians, let him remain among the clergy; but, if any one in sound health has castrated himself, it behoves that such an one, if [already] enrolled among the clergy, should cease [from his ministry], and that from henceforth no such person should be promoted. But, as it is evident that this is said of those who willfully do the thing and presume to castrate themselves, so if any have been made eunuchs by barbarians, or by their masters, and should otherwise be found worthy, such men the Canon admits to the clergy.[8]

The evidence before us today does not suggest need for a canon prohibiting self-castration among the clergy. Contemporary circumstances do, however, suggest that the third canon might, with suitable revision, still have some relevance. It reads:

The great Synod has stringently forbidden any bishop, presbyter, deacon, or any one of the clergy whatever, to have a subintroducta dwelling with him, except only a mother, or sister, or aunt, or such persons only as are beyond all suspicion.[9]

Citation of these two canons may appear frivolous, but it seems a good way to direct attention toward a subject as necessary for the future of a new ecumenism as a sound grasp of Christian grammar. In passing canons, the Council of Nicea recognized that the order of the church was also a necessary aspect of its unity and identity. Thus, the fourth canon provides what might be called the joists of a sound doctrinal house. It reads:

It is by all means proper that a bishop should be appointed by all the bishops in the province; but should this be difficult, either on account of urgent necessity or because of distance, three at least should meet together, and the suffrages of the absent [bishops] also being given and communicated in writing, then the ordination should take place. But in every province the ratification of what is done should be left to the Metropolitan.[10]

It seems obvious that the purpose of this canon was to insure that those who succeeded the apostles, separated as they might be by great distances, would not, in the words of Rufinus, be giving out different doctrines to the people they invited to believe in Christ. Given the fact that the church, prior to the return of its Lord, manifests within its own ranks the conflict between this age and the age to come, its unity and identity require the presence of people in authority who understand correctly the grammar that is to shape Christian speech and action. Prior to the age in which God is all in all, it is possible to misspeak and misact. Like it or not, those assembled at Nicea insisted on the need to place in positions of authority people whom accomplished speakers recognized as also being accomplished.

Nicene Christianity does more than provide a grammar for right Christian discourse. It suggests also the need for a form of governance capable of protecting and furthering right usage. Nicene Christianity suggests, in short, that the future of a new ecumenism cannot focus on the grammar of Christian belief and practice to the exclusion of an order that serves to insure that the ordinary speech of the church does not lapse into some form of Christian pidgin or, worse yet, become another language altogether. This statement does not imply that the future unity and identity of the church requires a three-fold ministry of bishop, priest, and deacon. It implies only that Nicene Christianity prods us to ask one another what form or forms of order best serve to ensure that in teaching and preaching we are not giving out different doctrines to the people [who are] invited to believe in Christ.

At some future conference, it would be useful to ask what relevance the fourth canon has for us, the children of the Nicene Council. This question from the old ecumenism cannot be ignored, but it can be put in a different way. If we all become as little children, and if we give up the attempt to be parents one to another, we can ask afresh how, given the spots and wrinkles that now so disfigure Christ’s body, we are to maintain a common form of speech and life. This is a question that once more places all the churches on all fours one with another. It presents a concern that necessarily arises among all people who claim a common token or badge of identity.

There is no better way of stating this concern and bringing these remarks to a close than by citing the last words of the synodal letter issued by the bishops assembled at Constantinople. Having settled who were to be bishops in those dioceses contested by the Arians, they said this:

Thus since among us there is agreement in the faith and Christian charity has been established, we shall cease to use the phrase condemned by the apostles, I am of Paul and I of Apollos and I of Cephas, and all appearing as Christ’s, who in us is not divided, by God’s grace we will keep the body of the church unrent, and will boldly stand at the judgment seat of the Lord.[11]

Would that it were the case that the churches came to the point of being able to say, among us there is agreement in the faith and Christian charity has been established. Would that it were the case that Christians ceased using the phrases of party spirit condemned by the apostles, I am of Paul and I of Apollos. Most of all, would that it were the case that, having done all we can to mend the tears in Christ’s body, we could at the end boldy stand at the judgment seat of the Lord.

The essays collected in this volume, when taken as a whole, suggest that according to the Council of Nicene agreement in the faith, the establishment of charity, and the unity that these jointly constitute require a certain sort of co-presence within the life of the church. The rule of faith expressed in the creeds; the practice of a form of life rooted in humility, repentance, and charity; and forms of church order capable of protecting and furthering both the rule of faith and the form of life provide the matrix in which the grace of God unifies his people. It was this matrix that shaped the minds and hearts of those gathered at Nicea, and it is this matrix that holds the promise of a new ecumenism.

It is not difficult to see that, at present, discussions of the rule of faith, the Christian life, and the order of the church more often than not take place in separation one from another. So long as this division persists, no ecumenism, be it old or new, holds much promise. Despite the present inadequacies of our efforts, however, there is much reason for hope. Indeed, many of us now recognize our closest theological companions and our closest friends in the Lord across the denominational divides that so mark our history. These friends recognize one another in no small measure because each sees the need to bring these discussions together. This mutual recognition carries the promise of a new ecumenism—one rooted in common repentance, in a common attempt to learn again a common belief and form of life, and in a review of the order of the churches in the light of these concerns.

It is this form of ecumenism that carries promise, and it is this promise that is present in these papers. Their authors represent almost all the major traditions. None of them wishes to leave the tradition that has provided nurture in Christ, but all of them recognize among themselves a unity that lies deeper than these denominational badges. None wishes to start yet another church party—a Nicene party that lies between the spent force of theological liberalism and the dogmatic certainties of its evangelical critics. What they want is to hold up for all a form of belief and life that is rooted in the creed and practice of Nicene Christianity, and so also a form of unity that goes back behind the rending of Christ’s body that has produced our present divisions.

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Our Help Is in the Name of the LORD, the Maker of Heaven and Earth

Scripture and Creed in Ecumenical Trust

Christopher R. Seitz

This essay discusses the exegetical and theological significance of article one of the Nicene Creed. I will set the context (part one), discuss the meaning of the phrase the maker of heaven and earth and what was at stake in its selection (part two), discuss the phrase within the context of the entire first line of the creed (part three), and conclude with five reflections on what is still at stake when we use this language in our present context (part four). Much of what I have to say will involve a proper appreciation of God’s name and of the relationship between language and truth—or saying what we mean and meaning what we say.

Part One: Setting the Context

I have been much interested in the phrase the maker of heaven and earth. If you had a concordance at hand, you would very quickly see that