Against the world

If I ever have a son, I’ll give him ‘Athanasius’ as a middle name. I think that’s part of the reason why Julie has prayed so hard (and so effectively) for us only to conceive daughters. I wouldn’t give my son ‘Athanasius’ as his first name, obviously – I’m not that cruel. But middle names are meant for the obscure and embarrassing – some of our friends will recall that we were a coin toss (which I lost) away from giving our fourth daughter ‘Valentine/Valentina’ as a middle name, since Mikaela was born on 14th February last year.

The man behind the moniker, Athanasius of Alexandria, died on this day in the year 375. He dedicated his life to the cause of teaching and defending the deity (‘Godness’) of Jesus Christ. Since the writing of the New Testament, the Christian Church had always regarded Jesus as God incarnate (‘incarnate’ = ‘in human form’). But in the 320s, an Egyptian priest called Arius started spreading the idea that Jesus was only semi-divine, halfway between God and humanity, who was (like everything else) created by the Father. A great council was summoned by Constantine, the first Christian Roman emperor (the Council of Nicaea), in the year 325 to settle the debate. Athanasius was a fresh-faced deacon who attended the sessions. At the Council, after much prayer and bible study, Arius’ teaching was condemned, and a Creed was written to establish firmly and forever the Christian, biblical belief that Jesus, God the Son, is every bit as ‘goddy’ as God the Father. This Creed is the one we still stand up and say together every week as the definition of the fundamentals of the Christian faith nearly 1700 years’ later.

Despite the clear decision of the Nicene Council and the enduring status of its Creed seventeen centuries’ later, in the fourth century itself, it was far from obvious that the Nicene faith would survive. Arius was very popular: his view was much easier to understand than the complicated ‘trinitarian’ faith the Church officially endorsed, and his slogans were set to popular folk tunes that ensured their continued proliferation. Moreover, several of the Roman emperors after Constantine endorsed Arianism and appointed Arian archbishops. Athanasius, although officially the archbishop of Alexandria, was four times deposed and exiled. At one particularly low point in mid-century, it seemed that all the major offices of state in the empire and nearly all senior bishoprics in the Church were held by Arians. The phrase ‘Athanasius contra mundum’ (‘Athanasius against the world’) became a proverb.

But Athanasius refused to give up, refused to compromise on the deity of Jesus and the rectitude of the Nicene Creed, and refused to set up his own breakaway church. Instead, he persisted in trying to persuade others round to the Nicene faith, in standing up to authorities in Church and state, and in waiting patiently and prayerfully for the situation to change, confident that the truth would eventually be vindicated. And it was.

There are many important lessons from Athanasius’ life and times – two seem especially relevant to our times. The first thing we learn is, truth isn’t decided by democracy. If they’d taken a vote in, say, 350AD, the Arian error would have been overwhelmingly endorsed, and the Nicene faith would’ve been derided as out-of-date, unreasonable, and unfashionable. And yet the Nicene faith was the truth – the clear and unchanging teaching of the Scriptures – no matter how unpopular and seemingly outmoded. Just because society at large overwhelmingly thinks one thing, and the Church teaches another, does not necessarily mean that the Church should ‘get with the times,’ ‘reflect modern thinking.’ The Church as a whole and Christians as individuals ought happily to risk being ‘out of step’ with society if it means being faithful to the clear teaching of the Bible.

The second thing we learn is, the church has been in a really serious mess before – and survived! Some in the Church of England at the moment are scandalised that we find ourselves having to debate some issues on which Scripture is very clear and about which the Church has taught with one voice for two thousand years. But before we panic or jump ship, we should remember the example and times of Athanasius: the Church nearly entirely capitulated to a view that denied that Jesus is God incarnate – the single most important and basic truth of our whole religion! – and yet Athanasius prayed, persevered, and was patient. For his teaching and his longsuffering determination, Athanasius is revered and celebrated in Roman Catholicism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and Protestantism as a hero of the faith. And maybe in a few years – just maybe – a little boy Woolflet will be toddling around a church building somewhere in Lancashire, possessing an awesome, but embarrassing, middle name.