Creeds and the Gospel: From the Beginnings to the Council of Nicaea (325)

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You can listen to a reading of this longform essay here, and can also hear David Schrock and Stephen Wellum interview Donald Fairbairn on his essay here.

Perhaps the most central of all Protestant convictions is the affirmation that the Bible stands alone as the authoritative source of truth.[1] From the Reformation slogan sola scriptura (“Scripture alone”) to John Wesley’s famous description of himself as homo unius libri (“a man of one book”) to the contemporary explanations of what is meant by biblical inerrancy, evangelical Protestants have trumpeted the truthfulness, uniqueness, authority, and sufficiency of Scripture for understanding saving history and for guiding all aspects of Christian life. Some evangelical Protestants have gone as far as claiming that there is no need for any human authorities at all, and within our evangelical movement there is suspicion about any doctrinal statements that might detract from the uniqueness of the Bible. Sometimes this suspicion is directed at “creeds,” statements from the early centuries of Christian history such as the Nicene Creed and the Apostles’ Creed, statements that the church as a whole has long regarded as normative, even authoritative. Some evangelicals insist that we need “no creed but the Bible” or “no creed but Jesus.”

1. This article is closely related to chapters two and four of the following book: Donald Fairbairn and Ryan M. Reeves, The Story of Creeds and Confessions: Tracing the Development of the Christian Faith, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2019).

This anti-creedal tendency in some branches of our evangelical tree is especially poignant now, because this year marks the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea,[2] at which the first version of what we today call the Nicene Creed was published. The creed from the year 325 is technically called the “Creed of Nicaea,” and it was later revised and expanded at the Council of Constantinople in 381 into the “Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed.” That slightly revised form is what we ordinarily call the “Nicene Creed” today. Most of the Christian world in 2025 is holding major celebrations of the council and creed from 325, which leaves those evangelicals who are suspicious of or opposed to creeds in a rather awkward position. I suggest that while our insistence on the uniqueness of Scripture is absolutely correct, our corresponding suspicion of creeds is based on three misconceptions of what they are and what their purpose is. If we can clear up these misconceptions, we will be in a good position to appreciate the significance of what Christian leaders were doing in the summer of 325, as they published the Creed of Nicaea. In this essay, I hope to address these misconceptions and to explain the events surrounding this historic Council.

2. Nicaea was on the south side of the Bosporus, in what is today the Asian side of Istanbul.

Clearing Up Three Misconceptions

Creeds Are Not a Replacement for Scripture

Some Protestants are concerned that the affirmation of creedal authority undermines the unique place of Scripture. This concern is understandable, and the impulse behind it is important and commendable. But we need to recognize that authority is not a zero-sum game. Declaring another document authoritative is not necessarily a threat to Scripture’s authority. On the contrary, it is possible that some other document might be considered authoritative precisely because it follows the teaching of the ultimate authority, the Bible. There is no question about the commitment of the early Christian leaders—the people we call the “church fathers”—to the Bible. Some of them had the entire text of Scripture memorized. All of them quoted it extensively in their writings (probably from memory). Many of them spent their whole lives writing biblical commentaries and patiently reflecting on the meaning of key biblical texts when that meaning was in dispute. And a few of them actually stated what was implicit in the writing of all of them—that no other writing had authority equal to or in place of the Bible. Any other writing that was regarded as normative was so regarded because it followed the Bible, and its authority was understood to be derivative from the Bible. In the same way that a modern statement (for example, the Southern Baptist Convention’s “Baptist Faith and Message”) is not meant to replace the Bible but to summarize its teaching, the creeds were not at all meant to replace or denigrate the Scriptures.

Creeds Are Not Merely about what We Believe, But in whom We Believe.

We as Protestants are accustomed to long statements that describe the beliefs that distinguish one group of Christians from another, and we usually call these “confessions of faith.” There are Lutheran confessions, Anglican confessions, Reformed confessions, Anabaptist confessions, etc., all dating from the time of the Reformation. There are also more recent confessional statements like the London Baptist Confession (1689), the New Hampshire Confession (1853), and of course, the “Baptist Faith and Message” (2000). These recent documents describe what particular groups of Christians believe, and with these statements in our minds, we tend to think of the ancient creeds as short, old confessions. That is, we tend to assume the creeds are simply about what we believe. This assumption shows up in the fact that when Protestant churches do use creeds in public worship, the pastor or other worship leader often introduces the recitation of the creed by asking, “Christians, what do you believe?” But the creeds are not merely about what Christians believe. They do not begin, “We believe that there is one God . . .” as Protestant confessions of faith typically do. Instead, they begin with, “We believe in one God . . .” or “I believe in God . . .” They are not primarily “belief that” statements but “belief in” statements. They are not merely about what we consider to be true; they are also about the one in whom we place our trust, the one to whom we pledge our allegiance.

Creeds Did Not Originate in the Midst of Doctrinal Controversy

Many Protestants have heard of the “Arian Controversy” in the early fourth century and have been told that the Nicene Creed was a response to Arius’s heretical view of the Son of God. This is true, and I’ll return to Arius and the Arian Controversy momentarily, but theological controversy was not the source of the Nicene Creed or any other creed. If there had been no Arius, there still would have been a creed very much like the Nicene Creed. How do I know? Because there already were numerous creed-like statements that had been used in worship in the second and third centuries.[3] The Arian Controversy provided the occasion for coalescing various Greek creedal statements into one united creed, not the occasion for concocting a completely new document out of thin air.

3. See Fairbairn and Reeves, The Story of Creeds and Confessions, 26–36, for some of these.

Long before Arius (c. 256 to 336 AD) came on the scene, Christian creeds originated in public worship in direct imitation of creed-like statements in the Bible. Early Christians paid close attention to the scriptural affirmation of one God, most notably in Deuteronomy 6:4, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” They noticed the New Testament’s depiction of the Son and the Spirit in relation to the one God, as for example in 1 Corinthians 8:5–6, “There is one God, the Father, from whom are all things and for whom we exist, and one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom are all things and through whom we exist.” They saw the pattern of describing the saving events of Christ’s life in creed-like statements, as in 1 Corinthians 15:3–4, “For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.” And the church fathers began to put these scriptural affirmations together into creeds, short doctrinal statements that Christians could recite.

These early creeds were initially connected to baptism, and so they were called “baptismal symbols” (“symbol” is one of the Greek words for “creed”). The baptismal symbols followed two forms, interrogatory and declarative. In the first, the person about to be baptized was asked “Do you believe in God the Father?” then “Do you believe in the Son of God?” and then “Do you believe in the Holy Spirit?” After each question, the person being baptized would respond with a short statement naming and describing the trinitarian person in whom he or she believed. For example, something like “I believe in Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, suffered and died and rose again.” Answering these questions was a public way for a new Christian to pledge his or her allegiance to God, his Son, and his Spirit. By the third century, these interrogatory symbols were turned into declarative statements: “We believe in one God, the Father . . . and in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who was conceived . . . And in the Holy Spirit.” These declarative statements were used in all public worship, not just in baptism. So a new believer being baptized would individually confess faith in Father, Son, and Spirit by answering questions with set statements, and all believers together would corporately confess faith in Father, Son, and Spirit by corporately reciting very similar statements.

There were various versions of these creeds in different languages, used in different places within the Christian world. They differed slightly in wording but not in substance. The most common western one, called the “Old Roman Creed,” eventually became the Apostles’ Creed, which reached its final form about 700. The various eastern creeds became the exemplars that were combined into the Creed of Nicaea in 325. The differences between the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed are that the former evolved gradually and was never officially approved by the church, whereas the latter was standardized deliberately and rather quickly as a result of the Arian Controversy in the fourth century, and it was officially approved by the church at two great councils in 325 and 381.

Thus we can see that creeds do not denigrate the Bible but grow directly out of it. They do not merely describe what we believe but also profess the one in whom we believe. They are not merely the result of doctrinal controversy but grow out of the need for Christians to pledge their allegiance to Father, Son, and Spirit. As a result, Protestants need not be suspicious of them; instead, they can be an important part of our worship. But with all of this background in mind, we still recognize that the Arian Controversy of the fourth century was a major crisis in the Christian church, and that this crisis did lead to the specific wording of first the Creed of Nicaea in 325 and then the final version of the Nicene Creed in 381. How then did Nicaea—both the Creed and the Council—come about?

The Road to Nicaea

What led to the Council of Nicaea?

In the year 318 or 319, a man named Arius wrote a letter to Alexander, the bishop of Alexandria in Egypt. Arius was probably from Libya and seems to have studied in Syrian Antioch before he settled in Alexandria, where he became an elder in the church. In his letter, Arius famously called the Son a “creature” and claimed that “before he was begotten, he did not exist” and therefore that “he is not co-everlasting with the Father.”[4] These startling claims immediately created an uproar in the Alexandrian church and beyond. Bishop Alexander wrote to refute Arius’s letter, others quickly chimed in as well, and Emperor Constantine sent his most trusted theological advisor, Hosius of Cordoba (Spain), to investigate the matter.

4. Arius, Letter to Alexander of Alexandria, in The Trinitarian Controversy, ed. William G. Rusch, Sources of Early Christian Thought (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980), 31–32.

Arius’s claims arose as a result of logical and spiritual concerns. Logically, Arius reasoned from human beings to God. Humans beget sons and daughters in time, through a physical process, and so of course the sons and daughters must be younger than their parents. If the Son of God is begotten, as the Bible obviously says he is, then to Arius that must mean that the Son came into existence and is “younger” than the Father.[5] Thus, he was created and therefore not eternal or equal to the Father. More important than Arius’s logical reasoning, though, was his spiritual understanding of salvation. To Arius, the point of existence was to advance toward God. The Son was created (and therefore lower than God) and called to advance toward God, to become God by his own self-improvement. According to Arius, we too were and are created lower than God and called to advance to him, following the pattern and example given to us by the Son.

5. I write “younger” in quotes because Arius did not say the Son came into existence at some point in time. Rather, he believed that the Son came into existence before there was time. For Arius, God’s very first act was to bring his Son into existence, and then after that he made space and time, and the clock started ticking, as it were. So there was no “time” when the Son did not exist, and he was not technically “younger” than the Father, but he did (according to Arius) come into existence at some point. Arius’ view differs radically from the biblical teaching that the begetting of the Son is not only outside of time, but is truly an eternal begetting. The Son is just as eternal as the Father is; there has never been a point—either in time or before it—when he did not exist.

As is often the case, the theological history of Nicaea is inseparably tied to the political history of the era. After a major persecution of Christians under the Roman Emperor Diocletian, Constantine had begun taking control of the Roman Empire. As is now famous, in October 312, when he was about to fight the decisive battle that conquered Rome itself, Constantine saw a vision, declared himself a Christian, and won the battle. At that point, the persecution of Christians in the western part of the Roman Empire was effectively ended. However, even though he had taken Rome, it would take Constantine another twelve years to solidify his control over the rest of the empire—during which time, Arius was actively promoting his views. Finally, in September 324, Constantine defeated his final foe, Licinius, and Christians throughout the Roman world suddenly found themselves supported by a Christian emperor and by imperial power. But as soon as Constantine had finished putting down his political rivals, a theological controversy was threatening to tear his newly-united Christian empire apart.

While Constantine was busy uniting the Roman empire, bishops and church leaders across the nation were producing a flurry of writings to address the Arian question. Early in 325, just a few months after the empire was united, Hosius of Cordoba chaired a small council in Antioch that condemned Arius’s teaching, and he advised Constantine to call a larger council to provide widespread confirmation of the condemnation. Constantine complied by calling a council, which was initially slated for Ancyra (modern day Ankara, in north central Turkey) but then moved to Nicaea to be closer to the imperial residence. Constantine invited all 1,800 bishops in the Roman Empire, and about 300 came. While Constantine surely had little understanding of the theological issues involved—and contrary to some opinions, he probably had no substantive influence on the proceedings—he did have a vested interest in the production of a united statement, and he attended and directed the proceedings accordingly. The council met from May through July 325.

The opposition to Arius at the council included Hosius of Cordoba, who presided, Alexander of Alexandria, and Alexander’s young secretary, a brilliant theologian in his late twenties named Athanasius, who would go on to be the most famous figure in the entire Arian Controversy. Arius had a few supporters from Libya and one major ally, Eusebius of Nicomedia, bishop of the city where the imperial court was based. The vast majority of the bishops present may not have had a clear idea what the issues were until after they arrived, but Hosius and his allies easily convinced virtually everyone that Arius’s ideas of a creaturely son and salvation as an ascent to God were incompatible with Scripture and the Christian faith. The question of what to place in opposition to Arius was more nettlesome, however. Various Greek baptismal symbols were brought forward as models, and on the basis of these, the Creed of Nicaea was composed.

What Does the Creed of Nicaea Emphasize?

The creed written and adopted at Nicaea in 325 reads as follows (my translation, with sections divided and numbered for reference):

1

We believe in one God, the Father who rules over all, the creator of all things visible and invisible.

2a

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten from the Father as only begotten, that is, from the ousia of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not created, homoousios with the Father, through whom all things came into being, both in heaven and in earth.

2b

Who for us human beings and for our salvation came down and was incarnate and became human. He suffered and the third day he rose, and ascended into heaven, and he will come to judge the living and the dead.

3

And in the Holy Spirit.

4

But those who say, “Once he did not exist,” or “Before he was begotten he did not exist,” or “He came into existence out of nothing,” or who assert that he, the Son of God, is of a different hypostasis or ousia, or that he is a creature, or changeable, or mutable, these the catholic and apostolic church anathematizes.

 

The earlier Greek baptismal symbols typically had three sections, one each on the Father, the Son, and the Spirit (sections derived from the three baptismal questions of the interrogatory creeds). In comparison with those templates, the Creed of Nicaea is very different in its proportions. The second section on the Son is vastly expanded from what was typical at the time, the section on the Holy Spirit is rather paltry in comparison, and a fourth section condemning various statements by Arius and the Arians about the Son is added. It is obvious that the bishops’ attention was on the relation of the Son to the Father. As a result, we can see that at this council, a creed whose primary purpose had been to declare Christians’ allegiance to the three trinitarian persons was modified in order to address a particular theological problem. Although the creed did not take its origin from the Arian Controversy, it has certainly been influenced significantly by the need of the hour. Accordingly, to see the main emphases of the Creed of Nicaea, we need to look carefully at the vast expansion of the typical section on the Son into sections 2a, 2b, and 4. When we do that, three major emphases emerge.

First, the creed goes to great lengths to assert the Son’s eternity and equality to the Father. He is not begotten in the sense of being created and coming into existence, as Arius claimed. Instead, he is begotten in the sense of belonging to the very essence (ousia) of God, sharing the same characteristics that describe what it means for God to be God. Although he is from God the Father, he is God, light, and true God, just as God the Father is. One may not say that there was ever a “once” (in time or before it) when he did not exist.[6]

6. See footnote five above for a more detailed discussion on the difference between the Nicene theologians and Arius on questions of the Sons begottenness in relation to time and eternity. The Nicene theologians held what would later become known as the doctrine of eternal generation.

Second, the creed insists that our salvation depended on the Son’s coming down to earth, not (as Arius thought) on creatures’ ascent to God. The very heart of the creed is its ringing statement about the Son’s mission, “Who for us human beings and for our salvation came down and was incarnate and became human.” To be saved, we human beings need more than just instruction from God, assistance from God, or even the indwelling of God to help us rise up to him. We cannot ascend to God, with or without divine assistance. If we are to be saved, the one who is himself Light from Light and true God from true God had to come down to us, and the creed affirms in no uncertain terms that he has done so.

Third, in the midst of a host of words and phrases taken from the Bible, the creed uses three philosophical words not found in Scripture. One of the words used to show the Son’s equality to the Father is homoousios, which means “of the same essence” or “of the same being.” And in section four, the creed condemns those who say the Son is “of a different hypostasis or ousia” than the Father, that is, of a different substance or essence. Why did the bishops at Nicaea use these strange, philosophical words? Three decades later, Athanasius would answer this question by saying that the delegates wanted to stick to biblical words and phrases alone, but as they brought up various biblical expressions, the Arians in the room were caught winking among themselves as they imagined how they might twist those expressions to support their view. Athanasius insists that that bishops believed they needed to collect the sense of the Scriptures using a single word that the Arians could not twist.[7] The use of philosophical words for “substance,” “essence,” and especially “one in essence” was driven by this concern.

7. Athanasius, Defense of the Nicene Definition 20, in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, second series, vol. 4, 163–4.

Overall, then, the main thrust of the Creed of Nicaea is very clear. We cannot ascend to God, so if we are to be saved, God has to come down to us. Therefore, Jesus cannot be a created being who himself had to ascend to God. He must be, and he is, the eternal Son of God himself, who has personally come down to earth through the incarnation in order to accomplish our salvation. When we affirm our faith in Father, Son, and Spirit using the Creed of Nicaea, it is this Son whom we affirm, because we affirm that the descent of this Son to earth is what we needed to be saved.

Why Was There Still Controversy after Nicaea?

The Creed of Nicaea was formally ratified on June 19, 325. Only three people, Arius himself and two Libyan bishops, refused to sign. All three were exiled, and Arius’s writings were condemned. One might have thought that this would be the end of the matter, but in fact, controversy continued for more than half a century, leading up to the Council of Constantinople in 381. Why the continuing conflict?

There were various reasons, including a great deal of political instability in the newly-Christian Roman Empire. After Constantine died in 337, his sons vied for control of the empire, and one of his sons, Constantius, leaned more toward the idea that God the Son is inferior to the Father. Constantius put a great deal of pressure on the church over the next few decades. But more important than such imperial meddling was uncertainty about the philosophical words the bishops had felt compelled to use at Nicaea. As we have seen, they used hypostasis and ousia as synonyms, referring to the essence or substance of God. That is, the two words described what all three persons share in common. But many Greek-speaking Christian theologians used the word hypostasis in the sense of “person.” Thus, some people were speaking of one ousia and three hypostases (that is, one essence and three persons, although it could sound like one essence and three substances) in God, while others were speaking of one ousia and one hypostasis (that is, one essence and one substance, although it could sound like one essence and one person). The different uses of the word hypostasis created massive confusion in the middle of the fourth century. The word homoousios was even more confusing. It had a checkered past, because a famous but shadowy heretic named Paul of Samosata had allegedly used the word in the third century, and many people thought it meant not just that the Son has the same essence as the Father, but even that the Son is the same person as the Father himself.

As a result, even though the central affirmations of the Creed of Nicaea were clear, these three words created problems and led to on-going confusion and conflict. That conflict and its resolution at the Council of Constantinople in 381 are a story for another article. But the confusion generated by these words should not blind us to the great achievement of Nicaea. For our salvation, Jesus Christ had to be, and he is, true God from true God, equal to the Father in all ways. For our salvation, Jesus who is true God from true God had to, and did, come down by genuinely becoming truly human in order to live, die, and be raised on our behalf. This is the Christian faith, based on the testimony of the Scriptures.

Conclusion: Nicaea and Evangelicals Today

In this article, we have seen that the church fathers who gathered at Nicaea in 325 did not at all intend to write a document that would take the place of Scripture or diminish its authority. Instead, they sought to modify existing creeds—documents that functioned as pledges of allegiance to Father, Son, and Spirit—in order to specify precisely who Jesus Christ is, as he is described in the Bible. Moreover, we have seen that the fathers at Nicaea believed they needed to use a few words not present in the Bible itself. The fact that those words were controversial might lead us to say we should use only biblical words, but we need to remember that Arius himself used the words of Scripture. He disastrously misunderstood those words, and in the process heretically misunderstood Jesus Christ, so much so that a “Christ” who was like Arius said he was could not have saved us. When the truth of the Gospel is at stake, precision is necessary in order to convey biblical and saving teaching accurately, and sometimes even non-biblical words can be crucial in distinguishing truth from error. That is why the word homoousios—although controversial at the time—has gone on to become the most famous theological term in Christian history. And the Creed of Nicaea—augmented later to include a fuller description of the Holy Spirit—has become the most authoritative Christian document outside the Bible itself.

To deviate from the Creed is to deviate from Scripture itself—to embrace a Jesus who is less than God and a salvation that is about human ascent rather than divine descent. As evangelicals today, we would do well not only to celebrate the Nicene Creed, but to embrace it as authoritative for our churches and recite it as congregations. For 1,700 years, this creed has served as one of church’s first bulwarks against heresies by clarifying what the Bible teaches about Christ and the salvation he came to earth to accomplish. Let us hold fast to Nicaea and keep our sheep protected in the truth, safe from the persistent falsehoods this creed rebuffs.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Author

  • Donald Fairbairn is Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Union School of Theology and Dean of Newton House. He is also the Robert E. Cooley Professor of Early Christianity at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. He holds degrees from Princeton University (AB), Denver Seminary (MDiv), and the University of Cambridge (PhD). He has ministered and taught throughout Europe and North America. He and his wife, Jennifer, have two adult children, Trey and Ella.

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Donald Fairbairn

Donald Fairbairn is Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Union School of Theology and Dean of Newton House. He is also the Robert E. Cooley Professor of Early Christianity at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. He holds degrees from Princeton University (AB), Denver Seminary (MDiv), and the University of Cambridge (PhD). He has ministered and taught throughout Europe and North America. He and his wife, Jennifer, have two adult children, Trey and Ella.