Trinity C 2025

One of my first seminary courses was Church History. Near the end of the first
semester, we re-enacted the Council of Nicaea, held in 325. Constantine was the
emperor, and he had recently declared Christianity an accepted religion in the empire.
However, friction remained as a threat to the pax Romana, because rival sets of belief
caused real fighting among many followers of the Prince of Peace.

The result of the council in 325 was the framework for what we now call The
Nicene Creed. At issue was the nature of Christ. Was the man Jesus of Nazareth both
human and divine, or was he human and made divine at the resurrection or ascension,
or both, or was he always divine and somehow only appeared to be human flesh? Real
battles ensued over how those questions and related ideas were answered, and the
council hoped to settle the issue once and for all.

In that seminary portrayal, I played a major part. I was Arius, a presbyter who
held that Jesus was only human, not coeternal wih God, but created by God. The
Arians among those gathered found themselves the losers when the final votes were in,
and Arius was declared anathema, and banished from the sacramental life of the
institutional church. It’s important to note that, while much biblical and revelatory
foundation for what we say we believe is true, the “official” documents were decided
by a vote among gathered leaders. Some may wonder whether God had a vote, or even
paid attention. The lasting qualities of the outcome suggests that the answer is yes.
Later on, when Arian-friendly leadership returned to the institution, Arius was
to be reinstated into the life of the church. However, on the night before he was due to
receive the sacrament again, he was poisoned and died. So, as you can tell, the work of
the council didn’t really settle things in everyone’s mind. Contentious politics didn’t
develop in our own time. Indeed, several centuries lapsed before actual military action
forced what’s called “Arianism” to the sidelines.

It was actually a bit fun being the chief heretic at that re-enactment, and
occasionally, still is. I do try to avoid blasphemy while tip-toeing through the tulips of
heresy, mind you. I think that’s an important distinction to be made.
Having said all that, let’s take a look at that creed we now take for granted, and
see if there’s still something to be learned from the words we often say without really
thinking about them.

One of the more important phrases comes at the beginning. “We believe in one
God . . . .” As opposed to the older Apostle’s Creed, this one speaks of community. We
believe, not “I” believe. Setting aside the meaning of belief itself, the next important
word is not God, but “one.”

Scripture tells us time and again that there are many gods. The life of Israel is a
continual struggle with their devotion to rival gods. Indeed, their name, Israel, means
“strives with God.” You can read through the historical books of Kings and Chronicles
and find them straying from the God who brought them out of Egypt. The Psalms, too,
point us to the knowledge that there are many rivals to worship of the God whose name
first given to Moses is, “I WILL BE WHAT I WILL BE.” Take an honest look at how we
treat, even revere some we call celebrities, or political or business leaders. In some
communities, especially poorer ones, that applies to anyone who seems wealthy. We
haven’t strayed too far from ancient Israel’s worship of the baals. We’ve just renamed
them.

But we say believe in ONE God. Emphasis on “one.” Then we go on to confuse
things by naming aspects of this one inclusive and expansive God by how we know this
one God, including in three persons.

We believe in one Lord. This title, given to Jesus of Nazareth, the risen Christ, is
carried from an ancient name for the God of Israel. In order to avoid taking the proper
name of God in vain and keep the third commandment, a word, Adonai, is used in
Hebrew scripture. We see it translated in our widely used version as LORD, using small
capital letters for the word. You’ll see that in this morning’s first reading and the
Psalm. That way of writing “Lord” is also used to indicate a different Hebrew proper
name for God—Elohim, although then it could be for the word “God” instead of Lord,
reading as Lord GOD. It keeps proofreaders off the streets and out of trouble.
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Our creed, therefore, states a belief that Jesus of Nazareth is the cosmic Christ
who existed with God before creation, and who not only reveals, but is the activity of
God, as things happen when God speaks at the moment of creation itself. It’s what
John’s Gospel points us to with his words, “In the beginning was the word, and the
word was with God, and the word was God.” Whole sections of libraries exist with
attempts to explain what that means. Then God speaks again, and another book or,
eventually, a whole new shelf is added.

The Creed goes on to begin to explain who Jesus, the Christ, is. Then there are
statements about the Holy Spirit whose work continues to reveal God’s presence in the
world and in our lives. Particularly, the Creed points to that work as seen in Christ’s
church. The origin of the Spirit became a later issue in the church, resulting in the
East/West schism in the eleventh century.

We can spend a lot of time debating whether the Creed means the institutional
church or the body and community of individual believers. But there are always those
who will channel their inner Torquemada, so some caution might be advisable. That
leads me to a question that I continue to try to answer. Which is more important—what
we say we believe or what God has done before those creeds were developed?
I think you know the answer I lean on. It’s related to Paul’s statement in Romans
regarding the faith of Abraham and the giving of the law. In a nutshell, the earlier
event is what saves us. The later writings help us by guiding our lives, but they alone
cannot save us. That is Paul’s point in today’s second lesson.

Constantine tried to keep the peace. We all know how that worked out. That’s
due to the practice that, in order to be part of the institutional church, one had to adhere
to a statement of faith. That became more important, in the eyes of many, than the
work accomplished on the cross of Jesus and God’s answer to all that by raising him
from the dead.

My hope is that this will lead to further discussion. For now, as I said earlier, it’s
still sometimes fun to be the heretic.