
One hot summer along the Mediterranean 1700 years ago, the clergy were bickering. The Archbishop of Alexandria was embroiled in a bitter dispute with the presbyter Arius and his followers about the nature of Jesus. Was he truly God, equal with the Father? Or was he created by the Father and subordinate to him? After many accusations of heresy and threats of excommunication, the bishops met in modern-day Turkey to hash it all out. In late July, 325, that meeting adjourned.
This was what we now know as the First Council of Nicaea. Its anniversary this year provides an opportunity not only to reflect on its specific doctrinal impact but also to consider some of the broader lessons that Nicaea teaches us about unity in the church.
Perhaps the most obvious impact of the first ecumenical council was the successful resolution of the Christological issue. Jesus is fully divine and eternally so. He is God the Son, of one substance with God the Father. When we say the Nicene Creed at Mass, we affirm with our words those central beliefs of our faith. These statements have held up century after century.
Words matter. The Latin motto “Lex orandi, lex credendi” captures this well — the rule of prayer is the rule of belief. When we say that Jesus is “begotten, not made,” for example, we are standing on many centuries of theological discourse. We say these words so often that perhaps they seem rote or perfunctory, but behind them lies much blood, sweat and tears.
The texts the church gives us for communal prayer are not arbitrary. They are rooted in Scripture and tradition and the efforts of many people who care deeply about their meaning. We shouldn’t change them on our own accord.
Furthermore, schism is bad. The bishops at Nicaea were desperate to avoid it. That wasn’t the first time church leaders argued about important things, and it certainly wasn’t the last. Like it or not, Catholicism is a corporate faith — it is unified in one Body of Christ. This is, of course, exceedingly challenging, given the human tendency to divide into ever smaller groups that affirm one’s own personal orthodoxy.
Catholicism demands that we tolerate a certain amount of disagreement within the body, but there is to be no division. Disagreement can be healthy, moving us toward the kind of refinement and consensus that the First Council of Nicaea produced. Intense factionalization, however, is not healthy, whether within the church or the polis or the family.
1700 years later, bickering continues. In a way, this is comforting. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus tells Peter that he will build the church and nothing shall prevail against it. It’s God’s Church. If it was a human invention, it would not have survived this long. There is always an issue du jour, threatening to wound the body of Christ. With Nicaea in mind, let us remember that there is wisdom in consensus. Even when there is deep disagreement, the church always seeks unity.