Explainer
Creed
5 min read

Creator or creature – a centuries old question of identity

Why does a 1,700-year-old creed still matter?

Frances Young is Emeritus Professor of Theology at the University of Birmingham. 

An abstract depiction of The Creation shows an aperture in a cloud like formation over water.
The Creation, James Tissot.
James Tissot, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

2025 will be the 1,700th anniversary of the Nicaea Creed. In October 2024, Prof. Frances Young gave the inaugural lecture of the McDonald Agape Nicaea Project at St Mellitus College.

 

In the year 325CE the first ever “ecumenical” (= “worldwide”) council of bishops assembled at Nicaea near Constantinople (now Istanbul). It was summoned by Constantine, the first Roman Emperor to convert to Christianity and patronize the Church. Why does this seventeenth centenary of an obscure discussion around complex words matter to us today? 

The outcome of the Council was agreement to the text of a creed, and banishment of a pesky priest named Arius, whose bishop disapproved of his teaching. Unfortunately, some other bishops remained sympathetic to something like Arius’ viewpoint, and for political reasons Constantine was desperate for Church unity. Argument over the issues went on for half a century, until another Council in 381CE reaffirmed the position established in 325CE and agreed the version labelled “the Nicene Creed” and still used in Church liturgies across the world today. 

The controversy was basically about the identity of the pre-existent Word or Son of God incarnate in Jesus Christ. Nicaea established that the Son was “of one substance” (homoousios) with the Father – in other words, he was fully God in every sense of the word. But for many traditional believers at the time this was difficult to accept. 

The common sense of the culture thought in terms of a “chain of being.” Most people in the Roman Empire were polytheists – there were loads of gods: Mars, god of war, Nepture, god of the sea, and so on. Each city, each ethnic group, had its own god, as did every family, every interest group, every burial society – you name it. But generally there was a sense that above all these was the Supreme God, who was worshipped indirectly through worship of these lower gods, and below them were all sorts of nature spirits, daemons, benign and malign, then souls incarnate in human persons, then animals, even vegetables as living entities, and finally inert matter like earth and stones, at the bottom of the hierarchy or chain of being. 

Jews identified their God with the Supreme God and insisted the one God alone should be worshipped. But they also imagined a heavenly court of archangels and angels, then below that the souls of the righteous, and so on in a somewhat parallel hierarchy. No surprise then that Christians assumed a similar picture: God, then the Son of God, then the Holy Spirit, then archangels and angels, then souls, and so on in a hierarchical ladder. 

But in the second century Christians had argued their way to the idea of “creation out of nothing.” Many non-Jewish thinkers, including some early Christians, followed Plato, conceiving creation as the outcome of Mind (the Demiurge or Craftsman) shaping Matter into whatever Forms or Ideas were in mind. But other Christian thinkers argued that God was not a mere Craftsman who needed stone or wood to work on like a sculptor – God produced the Matter in the first place. This then triggered a full-blown critique: God did not create out of pre-existent Matter or there would be two first principles; God did not create from God’s own self or everything would be divine; so God must have created out of nothing. 

Now try to fit that to the chain of being: where do you draw the line between God the Creator and everything else made out of nothing? This was the issue which surfaced in the so-called Arian controversy. What we might call the “mainstream” remained wedded to the hierarchy, not least because of earlier controversies about God’s monarchia. The word did mean “monarchy” – single sovereignty; but arche could mean “rule” or “beginning,” so monarchia also referred to the single first principle of all that is. It was natural to attribute monarchia to God the Father, a view that worked OK with the hierarchy. But some had suggested that the one God 'changed mode', as it were, appearing now as Father, now as Son, now as Holy Spirit, taking different roles in the overarching scriptural story. This suggestion was mocked as all too similar to the pagan god, Proteus, who in mythology kept changing shape. It is even possible that that key word homoousios had been condemned along with this “Modalist” view.  

Traditionalists were suspicious. The first historian of the Church, Eusebius of Caesarea, was present at Nicaea, and wrote a somewhat embarrassed letter to his congregation explaining how he had come to agree to this formula. Even Athanasius - the one who would come to be regarded as the staunch defender of Nicaea - largely avoided the term for a quarter of a century, though that does not mean he did not identify the principal issue. He campaigned hard and ended up in exile five times over. The fundamental issue was whether Christ was God incarnate or some kind of divinised superman, or a semi-divine mediating figure, a created Creator. Arius is supposed to have said, “there was a when he was not,” even though he was “the first and greatest of the creatures” through whom God created everything else. 

So why does it still matter? Four simple reasons:

Because it was basically about identity, and the question of Christ’s identity still matters. 

Because we still find people treating Jesus Christ as superhuman – not really one of us, or semi-divine – not God in the same sense as the God the Father. If we are to be ecumenical, across different denominations today but also across time, we need to affirm that God’s Son and Spirit are truly of the one God. As early as the second century the first great Christian theologian, Irenaeus, characterized the Word and the Spirit as God’s two hands – we can imagine the Trinity reaching out first to create and then to embrace us with God’s redeeming love. 

Because it means we can look to Jesus and there catch a glimpse of God’s very own loving face - not just a dim image but the reality itself.

And because only God could recreate us in God’s own image and raise us to new life. 

  

To find out more about the McDonald Agape Nicaea Project being held by St. Mellitus College in London, come and join the public lectures, or look out for other Nicene celebrations in 2025. 

For more information or to register for these events, you can visit the Nicaea Project website  

Watch the lecture

Article
Christmas culture
Creed
Education
3 min read

Shining bright: Religious Education can reflect the heart of Christmas

A new curriculum proposal offers hope for a subject long left in the shadows

Kathryn is the chief executive of Culham St Gabriel's, an education charity

A classroom display of Christmas baubles under a banner.
The Butterfly Teacher

The Christmas season will soon be upon us, and Christians around the world prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus. The lives of those believers, and many of their neighbours, are filled with nativity plays, Christingle services, advent calendars and carol singing. The festival that celebrates Jesus, the baby who is born in a manger and welcomed by lowly shepherds, also heralds his later life. One in which he lifts the marginalised, brings divine justice and shines light into a dark, fragmented world.  

This shining vision of justice and light cannot be confined to nativity scenes or carol services. It shapes how Christians see the world, including education.  

In England, Religious Education (RE) is in urgent need of reform. The recent Curriculum and Assessment Review (CAR) recommendation that the subject goes into a new national curriculum through a staged process, offers a rare opportunity to restore RE to its rightful place for the benefit of every child. This will finally shine a light on this often-neglected subject. 

Where darkness falls 

Today, many pupils experience RE as fragmented, inconsistent, and undervalued. Some receive profound, in-depth teaching — getting more than a glimpse of the vision. Others receive none. Some encounter diverse religious and non-religious worldviews; others are taught narrow or outdated content. This disparity is not just an educational failure; it is a moral one. 

At Christmas, Christians remember that Jesus came not for the powerful, but for the poor, the outsider, and the forgotten. Following Him means ensuring that every child — regardless of background or postcode — has access to high quality RE that reflects the complexity and richness of religion and belief in our global world. 

Four dark shadows 

There are four key areas of inequity: 

  • Position: RE is often marginalised in schools as it is not in the national curriculum. 

  • Provision: time and resources vary dramatically. 

  • Standards: there is no consistent national benchmark. 

  • Content: pupils struggle to see themselves and others reflected in the curriculum. 

These issues disproportionately affect the most vulnerable - those in underfunded schools or transient communities. Christians are called to stand up for those who are overlooked. The Christmas story itself is a call to justice. Mary’s Song speaks of Jesus lifting the humble, whilst Zechariah’s prophecy highlights Jesus shining light on those in darkness and guiding people to a path of peace. Social justice is at the heart of the gospel message. 

Lighting a way forward 

The CAR recommendation that RE should be included in a new National Curriculum is a light amidst the darkness; it views the subject through a social justice lens. The proposed approach to establish consensus within the religious education community lights up a path for the subject going forward. Building on the National Content Standard for RE in England (2023) it offers a framework rooted in fairness, coherence, and depth. It would ensure: 

  • Parity of position: RE is valued alongside other subjects. 

  • Equity of provision: all pupils receive meaningful religious education 

  • Consistency of standards: expectations are clear and fair across all schools. 

  • Richness of content: pupils explore diverse, lived experiences of religious and non-religious worldviews. 

This is not just about curriculum design. It is about enabling young people: to become free thinking; to become critical participants of public discourse in unsettled times; to make academically informed, compassionate and respectful judgements about matters of religion and belief. It is about nurturing wisdom, encouraging young people to flourish, and bringing light to dark places. 

Shining in the darkness 

Christmas is a season of hope and light. It is also about challenge. It is a reminder that God intervenes to restore and renew, and Christians are called to do the same. The recent recommendation to government is, I believe, a once is a life-time opportunity for everyone to come together for the common good; to shape an RE curriculum for all where every child is seen, heard, and valued. 

As we sing of peace on earth and goodwill to all, let us work to ensure that our education system upholds justice and serves everyone, whether we are a Christian or not. This Christmas, may we commit ourselves to a vision of education that reflects the heart of God: one of equity, dignity, and love. Surely it is time for the RE light to shine in every classroom across our country. 

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