in A. D. 325?

or, What really happened at the Council of Nicea?

Part One:

The “Real” Story vs. the Facts

Even though the sensationalism has passed, Dan Brown's rollicking historical theology-as-conspiracy novel continues to sell (now in paperback), and the blockbuster motion picture starring popular Everyman actor Tom Hanks is on DVD, insuring that it will be viewed by millions the world over for years to come.  And then there’s the sequel….

The crux of Brown's argument (or thesis, or plot device, or whatever) is that Christianity as we know it is the product of an imperial power play by the Roman emperor Constantine, who muscled the bishops gathered in the ancient city of Nicea into making radical changes to key doctrines.

One of his characters, Teabing, explains how this happened:

1. "During this fusion of religions, Constantine needed to strengthen the new Christian tradition, and held a famous ecumenical gathering known as the Council of Nicaea…At this gathering," Teabing said, "many aspects of Christianity were debated and voted upon—the date of Easter, the role of bishops, the administration of sacraments, and, of course, the divinity of Jesus.""I don't follow. His divinity?"
   

2. "My dear," Teabing declared, "until that moment in history, Jesus was viewed by His followers as a mortal prophet…a great and powerful man, but a man nonetheless. A mortal."
   

3. "Not the Son of God?"
   

4. "Right," Teabing said. "Jesus' establishment as 'the Son of God' was officially proposed and voted on by the Council of Nicaea."
   

5. "Hold on. You're saying Jesus' divinity was the result of a vote?"
   

6. "A relatively close vote at that," Teabing added…."By officially endorsing Jesus as the Son of God, Constantine turned Jesus into a deity who existed beyond the scope of the human world, an entity whose power was unchallengeable." 
   

7. (Dan Brown, The Da Vinci Code, p. 233)
   

As a novelist, Dan Brown is the writer of compelling fiction. As a historian, Dan Brown is the writer of compelling fiction.  How could anyone even take this assertion seriously?  It would mean that the entire New Testament was forged in the 4th century! Not even the most radical skeptics propose that.  Talk about suspension of disbelief!

Of course, there is no requirement that the writer of historical fiction must display historical veracity, only plausibility.  Literature is replete with examples of novels and plays that have seriously distorted facts in the service of good story-telling.

The problem with The Da Vinci Code is that the author, publisher, and filmmaker continue to present its fictional story as a true exposé, a valid alternative reading of historical evidence.

Now, The Da Vinci Code has been amply rebutted and debunked in both Christian and secular sources.  Its most crucial "proof" has been demonstrated to be a confessed fraud. It is not my intent here to wage a point by point refutation of the book. A couple of good starting places for that, if it is what you're looking for, would be:

1. http://www.probe.org/content/view/127/169/
   

2. http://www.leaderu.com/focus/davincicode.html
   

3. http://www.leaderu.com/focus/Davinci_movie.html
   

My intent in this article is to go behind the story to the history. You may have already guessed my answer to the lead question above, but that was just a teaser. The real question is the subtitle:  What really happened at Nicea?  Dan Brown is not the first to suggest that the church was co-opted by Constantine.  In fact, that theory was proposed and propagated almost immediately after the close of the Council!

A Theological Battle Royal

The true story of the Council of Nicea is no less dramatic than the fictional scenario Dan Brown envisions, but far more complex. It was an event in which political ambitions collided, both secular and ecclesiastical. There was genuine monastic spirituality on both sides of the aisle, and there was also ruthless material calculation, again on both sides of the aisle.

Certainly politics was at work in the Council of Nicea, both secular and ecclesiastical.  Those politics were both of the public and the behind-the-scenes type, and sometimes were ruthless.  Nevertheless, the Council of Nicea was not primarily a political convention, and the dispute was not primarily about political power.  The Emperor Constantine was well-established by now, and there were no serious rivals.

At the core of Nicea was a theological dispute of monumental significance.  We moderns have been conditioned to believe that all theological debates are essentially over trivial issues.  Every so often some scholar or group comes up with a novel interpretation of Jesus, seemingly just to keep interest going.  Sometimes the story of the Council of Nicea has been told so that it looks as if it all boiled down to an argument over one letter in one word expressing an arcane point that matters little to the simple "person in the pew."  In fact, the argument was momentous—a truth that The Da Vinci Code actually gets right (although, alas, it completely misses the true point of the argument, as we shall see). 

How momentous?  There was no way the Council could leave the status quo unchanged. It was compelled to define for the first time what previous generations had left reverently undefined about the nature of God and the nature of Christ.  The pressure did not come from the emperor, but from a heretic.  (Yes, I realize “heretic” is a judgmental word.  It was the judgment of the Council—and that was not a narrow vote.)  If the heretic had prevailed, he would have altered the Christian message drastically from its proclamation of three centuries.  Paradoxically, in order to preserve the substance of the message, the council would have to alter the expression of it substantially. 

Above all, however, the Council of Nicea represented a clash between two theologies, two visions.  It was not merely a question of the identity of Jesus Christ, even though that became the main battleground.  The key question, however, was not whether or not to call Jesus divine, but rather how to define his divinity.

More to the point, what was at stake in the controversy was the nature of salvation. The gospel that had been proclaimed since the Day of Pentecost is that Jesus of Nazareth, whose Messiahship was attested by many miracles, wonders and signs that God performed through him, died for our sins on a Roman cross.  On the third day he rose from the dead and ascended to heaven, vindicated as the Son of God and the Lord of all.  By his death and resurrection he has won for mankind salvation from sin, and offered eternal life to all who believe in him.

None of this was in question at Nicea.  It is flatly false that "until that moment in history, Jesus was viewed by His followers as a mortal prophet…a great and powerful man, but a man nonetheless. A mortal."  The belief that Jesus was and is the Son of God was “catholic” in the original sense of the word—universal among the churches.

The question was rather, what does it mean that Jesus is God’s Son.  As I pointed out earlier, it was not an idle question.  What kind of Son he is determines what kind of Savior he could be, and on that hinges our eternal destiny.

It was a controversy that got started with a preacher from Alexandria, Egypt, named Arius, and the council was convened to determine what to say in response to the questions raised by this fellow and his novel approach to doctrine.

To be continued....