Athanasius, Arianism, and the Council of Nicaea: Part Three — The Makings and Proceedings of the Council of Nicaea and its Aftermath

In celebrating and commemorating lofty historical moments and characters, one often meets the grandeur of their memory with a natural tendency to minimize or trivialize their more mundane and unbefitting elements. It is no different with the contemporary imagination as it pertains to the Council of Nicaea. For all of its import and renown, as the triumph of Orthodoxy over a most threatening and consequential heresy — which, with all probability, carried the potential of subverting the Church of God entirely — Nicaea was far from an immediate or conclusive terminus to the Arian heresy. Rather, the near-sixty years thereafter represent a most remarkable period of turmoil during which the believers were tossed about amidst a tempest of uncertainty, turmoil, factionalism, and ecclesial chaos at every level. Indeed, “[t]he whole world groaned, and was astonished to find itself Arian…[t]he ship of the Apostles was in peril, she was driven by the wind, her sides beaten with the waves: no hope was now left.”[1]

It would be a disservice to the history and significance of Nicaea and the victory of Orthodoxy over the Arian invention if its history were summarily and deceivingly oversimplified to only capture its noble and inspiring qualities. It would be an affront to the faithful — both the known Fathers and unknown multitudes of Orthodox believers — who vigorously opposed the heresy and bore the consequences of their defense of the Lord if their witness, suffering, and even death for the sake of the Faith of Christ were glossed over and buried beneath a falsely beautified shrine to Nicaea. To do so, in truth, would divest Nicaea, and the upholding of Orthodoxy itself, from its necessarily human, and most inspiring, elements. 

The story of Nicaea is undoubtedly one of God’s faithful preservation of His Church in the face of a most Satanic and subversive ideology. It is a testament to His unwavering love and persistent guidance of the Church in every generation. But it is equally one of the danger of human error, unsound spirituality, the politicization of the Church, and the great harm that can be caused to the Church by even one unsound, albeit well-intentioned, member. It is true that after a long and vehement doctrinal war, the Lord “awoke and bade the tempest cease; the beast died, and there was a calm once again”[2] as Jerome eloquently observed in hindsight concerning the Arian Controversy and its ultimate fate. But until that eventual conclusion, the Church was tossed to and fro in a storm that spanned over six tumultuous and unseemly decades rife with every sort of both the imaginable and unimaginable. 

Having now, in the past two papers, discussed the makings and character of the chief defender of Nicaea — Abba Athanasius — as well as the makings and precursors to Arianism and the Arian Controversy, let us proceed now to a brief exposition of the makings and proceedings of the Council of Nicaea and its aftermath until 381 A.D. In doing so, we hope to provide a window into this crucial period of the Church’s history, enabling our reader to develop an informed appreciation of the important events and tribulations of the subject years, the extent to which wickedness and error can consume even those who perceive themselves to be most zealous and true in the Christian life and with respect to the doctrine of the Church, and the resilience and faithfulness of those who, in embodying soundness of spirit and mind, and with the sort of virtuosity and integrity that stands in stark contrast against and exposes worldliness and misguidance, had received the true Faith of Christ, were well trained in it both intellectually and spiritually, and stood firm in defense of it even in the face of the greatest of personal costs, immense sufferings, and untold political, societal, and ecclesial pressures. 

Arius and the Arian Controversy from its Outset until Nicaea

The makings of the Council of Nicaea and the Arian Controversy are intimately connected with the heresy’s namesake, albeit neither its inventor nor even its chief proponent, Arius of Alexandria. We must therefore begin here with a historical account of this man, whose memory in Christian history is an unfortunate blemish upon the eminent Church of Alexandria. 

The historical data that has survived until our time with respect to Arius prior to his doctrinal clash with Pope Alexander in Alexandria around or shortly after 318 A.D. is scant. It is likely that he was of Libyan origin[3] — of possible note in light of the fact that Sabellius, whose heresy, that God, Who is purportedly one and not trinity, merely manifests Himself in various modes, came to be termed Sabellianism, is called “the Libyan” possibly due to his own birth or operation in that region, in the early to mid-third century —, born sometime in the 250s A.D. or not long thereafter. History describes him as tall in stature, ascetical in appearance, eloquent in speech, logically astute, and possessed of a charming and charismatic personality.[4] In a word, a man “counterfeited like a guileful serpent [] well able to deceive any unsuspecting heart through its cleverly designed appearance.”[5]

At some unknown point, Arius is known to have relocated to Antioch, where he became discipled by Lucian the presbyter, of whom we have already spoken at some length in our prior paper in this series. In the School of Antioch, and in discipleship to Lucian, Arius’ natural intelligence and charisma become potentiated with formal philosophical training, equipping him with great skill in argumentation, eloquence in discourse, and the appearance of theological and spiritual credibility. Arius is therefore documented in history as donning a short cloak and sleeveless tunic “reminiscent of the exomis worn both by philosophers and by ascetics” which in the late third and early fourth centuries would have “identified him easily as a teacher of the way of salvation — a guru, we might almost say.”[6]

Eventually, Arius is found, of course, in Alexandria. When, however, and how, we cannot tell. But on the authority of Sozomen, writing in the fifth century, he is recorded as having been involved in the Meletian Schism, in which Meletius, bishop of Lycopolis[7], rent asunder the Church of Egypt, ordaining bishops and operating a significant rival sect there.[8] If Sozomen is to be believed, during the papacy of Pope Peter, the Seal of the Martyrs, as he is known, Arius, who had been ordained to the diaconate by the patriarch, aligned himself with Meletius and was excommunicated by the pope as a result.[9] Indeed, the tradition of the Coptic Church tells, following the Acts of Peter of Alexandria, that Pope Peter advised his disciples and future successors, Achillas and Alexander, to forbid Arius from readmission to the Church as a result of his vision of Christ, Who appeared to him with His tunic torn, informed him that it was Arius who had divided it, and instructed him to refuse Arius restoration to communion.[10]

If the accounts noted above are factual, then Arius is found in Alexandria no later than 311 A.D., when Pope Peter was martyred in the Persecution. The historical validity of these claims, however, has been called into question.[11] Nevertheless, as we have noted, the proposition that Arius was involved in the Meletian Schism on the side of the schismatics certainly aligns with his penchant for involvement in ecclesial controversy, rather than peaceably aligning with the legitimate ecclesial authorities. 

The obscurity of those years with regard to Arius is further amplified by the additional note that he — if again he is in fact the Arius found aligned with Meletius and excommunicated by Pope Peter — appears to have been readmitted to communion by Pope Achillas, in direct contravention of his teacher and predecessor’s direct orders and the authority of the divine vision underpinning their authority, who even ordained him to the priesthood.[12] And what is more, he may, perhaps somewhat puzzlingly, have even been a candidate for the bishopric of Alexandria shortly after the death of Peter’s successor, Pope Achillas, in 313 A.D., less than two years after Pope Peter’s martyrdom.[13]

Beyond the obscure and somewhat contradictory historical details concerning Arius’ possible early tenure in Alexandria, the first certain fact is that he is found occupying the office of the presbytery in Alexandria in the years leading up to 318 A.D., and not only serving in this capacity, but also being entrusted to shepherd and teach at the urban church of the Baucalis[14] — among the largest, and certainly the most ancient, of the churches of Alexandria at the time —, home to the tomb of Saint Mark the Apostle himself. There, Arius draws crowds of congregants to hear his teaching, makes disciples of sincere believers eager to learn from a purported and eloquent theologian and renowned ascetic, and enjoys popular support as a spiritual guide and disciple of a martyr, Lucian of Antioch. Seventy women were known to have been under his tutelage and direction,[15] and he enjoyed marked influence as an elderly preacher and apparent sage. 

Irrespective of whether Arius was embroiled in ecclesial strife in connection with Meletius — a possible harbinger of his ultimate fate —, his unenviable role as the catalyst of the controversy that cast his name to infamy stands on its own merit as his most lamentable legacy, and must now be examined. 

The events that sparked the Arian Controversy can be narrowed down to a specific context, if not precisely to a particular setting. The accounts of the early historians agree that it is attributable to a dispute between Arius and his bishop, Pope Alexander, concerning the proper understanding of the Trinity, with Arius taking issue with his bishop’s Trinitarian theology. The clash may have arisen in the setting of a lecture delivered by the pope to the clergy of Alexandria, in which he was speaking of the oneness of God and at which Arius voiced open objections to what he perceived or feared to be a Sabellian — that is, modalistic — tendency betrayed by the patriarch’s explanation.[16] It may also have been occasioned by Arius openly teaching his heresy at the Baucalis, and thus being reported to the bishop by those who took issue with his teaching.[17] Or it could have arisen in the setting of the pope inquiring of the priests as to an explanation of a certain passage of the Scriptures.[18]

In any case, a dispute did in fact arise between Arius and Pope Alexander regarding the proper understanding of the Holy Trinity. Arius, for his part, contended: “if…the Father begat the Son, he that was begotten had a beginning of existence: and from this it is evident, that there was [] when the Son was not. It therefore necessarily follows, that he had his substance [i.e. essence, or nature] from nothing.”[19] Meanwhile, it appears he was already teaching, with his disciples and at the Baucalis, that “the Son of God was made out of that which had no prior existence,” that there was a “when” when He did not exist, that He was capable of both virtue and vice “as possessing free will…and that he was created and made…”[20]

Initially, Pope Alexander exhibited courteous patience towards Arius, so much so that it seems Collothus, a presbyter in Alexandria, became so frustrated with his bishop’s perceived laxity and dilatoriness that he himself founded his own schismatic sect and ordained bishops.[21] He “deemed it more advisable to leave each party to the free discussion of doubtful topics, so that by persuasion rather than by force, they might cease from contention…”[22] Meanwhile, Arius’ teaching was quickly becoming quite influential, spreading “throughout all Egypt, Libya, and the upper Thebes, and at length diffused itself over the rest of the provinces and cities.”[23] Among his first partisans were “a number of lay people and virgins, five presbyters of Alexandria, six deacons, including Euzoius, afterwards Arian bishop at Antioch (A.D. 361), and the Libyan bishops Secundus of Ptolemais in Pentapolis…and Theonas of Marmarica…”[24]

A letter was initially addressed by the bishop and clergy of Alexandria to Arius and his colleagues, to no avail.[25] Then, when patience and private exhortations would not yield the fruit of repentance, Pope Alexander convened a synod of the clergy of Alexandria and Libya, which deposed and excommunicated Arius and those who concurred with him. Of these, there were several priests and deacons as well as many lay believers, some of whom sided with Arius and his clerical supporters because “they imagined their doctrines to be of God; others, as frequently happens in similar cases, because they believed them to have been ill-treated and unjustly excommunicated.”[26]

As expected, Arius was far from possessing a penitent and humble spirit. Rather than acknowledging his error, he grew all the more bold in obstinacy and vigor. He seems to have penned the Thalia — a book of songs containing his teachings which he composed and set to popular music for purposes of indoctrination and propagation — during this period.[27] And what is more, he began to actively canvass for support, first in Alexandria and then abroad, including in Palestine and Nicomedia, while embarking on a campaign of correspondence to his fellow disciples of Lucian and clerical ideological adherents, seeking refuge, support, and assistance from them in his opposition to Pope Alexander.

After finding security with Eusebius of Caesarea, Arius sought out the assistance of another Eusebius — initially bishop of Berytus, who had, for some reason, come to hold the office of bishop of Nicomedia, the site of the Emperor’s residence —, who was his fellow disciple of Lucian and would emerge as the chief proponent and champion of Arianism in the Controversy. To him, Arius writes: 

“…[Alexander] is severely ravaging and persecuting us and moving against us with every evil. Thus he drives us out of every city like godless men, since we will not agree with his public statements: that there was ‘always a God, always a Son;’ ‘as soon as the Father, so soon the Son [existed];’ ‘with the Father co-exists the Son;’ God neither precedes the Son in aspect or in a moment of time;’ ‘always a God, always a Son, the Son being from God himself…But what do we say and think and what have we previously taught and do we presently teach?  — that the Son is not unbegotten, nor a part of an unbegotten entity in any way, nor from anything in existence, but that he is subsisting in will and intention before time and before the ages, full of grace and truth, God, the only-begotten, unchangeable. Before he was begotten, or created, or defined, or established, he did not exist. For he was not unbegotten. But we are persecuted because we have said the Son has a beginning but God has no beginning. We are persecuted because of that and for saying he came from non-being…’”[28]

Hence this Eusebius, along with certain others, proceeded to issue correspondences in defense of Arius and his teaching, and to petition Alexander to receive Arius again into communion in Alexandria; when Alexander refused, they convened councils in Bithynia and Palestine which declared in favor of Arius, demanded that Alexander readmit him, and issued correspondence for circulation to all bishops desiring that they hold communion with Arius.[29]

Meanwhile, Alexander himself had reluctantly begun writing to counter Arius’ claims and propagandist efforts, seeking to enlighten his fellow bishops regarding the heresy of Arius and its central tenets, as well as the proceedings held in Alexandria which ruled against Arius and his companions. Thus, several bishops, including Philogonius of Antioch and Macarius of Jerusalem, promptly answered the call of Alexander and staunchly opposed Arius.[30] Nevertheless, the damage caused by Arius’ campaign had been done. “In Egypt and abroad confusion reigned: parties formed in every city, bishops, to adopt the simile of Eusebius,[31] collided like the fabled Symplegades, the most sacred of subjects were bandied about in the mouths of the populace, Christian and heathen.”[32]

At this time, Arius, now equipped with formal support by not a few influential bishops, including Eusebius of Caesarea and Eusebius of Nicomedia, exhibited a more reassured and calm disposition than he initially embodied in his disputes with Pope Alexander. He and certain of his supporters therefore wrote to him, with flattering words and cunning speech, to attempt to regain entry to the Church of Alexandria, saying: 

“We acknowledge One God, alone unbegotten, alone eternal, alone without beginning, alone true, alone having immortality, alone wise, alone good, alone sovereign, judge of all, governor, and provider, unalterable and unchangeable, just and good, God of the Law and the Prophets and the New Testament; he begot an only-begotten Son before time and the ages, through whom he made both the ages [Heb 1:2] and all that was made; who begot him not in appearance, but in reality; and that he made him subsist at his own will, unalterable and unchangeable, the perfect creature of God, but not as one of the creatures…he was created at the will of God, before time and before the ages, and came to life and being from the Father, and the glories which coexist in him are from the Father…the Son [was] begotten apart from time by the Father, and created and founded before the ages, was not in existence before his generation, but was begotten apart from time before all things, and he alone came into existence from the Father. For he is neither eternal nor co-eternal nor co-unbegotten with the Father, nor does he have his being together with the Father…But God is before all things as monad and beginning of all. Therefore he is also before the Son…”[33]

Most likely through Eusebius of Nicomedia — who was the spiritual advisor to Constantine’s sister and had strong ties to the imperial family — Constantine, having just become sole ruler of the Empire following his defeat of Licinius in 324, now learned of the conflict between Arius and Alexander. Fearing that the unity of the Empire might become endangered by this strife — and also due to calendrical differences within the Empire with respect to the celebration of the Paschal Feast — and especially recalling the schism of the Donatists and the turbulence that unfortunate event brought about, Constantine wrote to Arius and Alexander to rebuke them for their actions and to encourage their reconciliation regarding what he considered a quarrel “of a truly insignificant character, and quite unworthy of such fierce contention.”[34] In connection with this correspondence, Constantine commissioned a venerable and pious bishop, Hosius of Cordoba, who was experienced in handling ecclesial concerns and disputes — having been involved in a central capacity in the proceedings of the Council of Elvira during the first decade of the fourth century, and in addressing the emergence of the Donatist Schism around 315 A.D. — to personally deliver the letter to Alexandria, and to intervene in the conflict there in an attempt to bring about its resolution. 

Hosius’ arrival and delivery of Constantine’s letter failed, however, to accomplish the desired ends. Yet another council was held in Alexandria, with his participation, in 324 A.D., to attempt to address the issue, which still did not resolve the Arian problem.[35] Then, on his return journey, Hosius presided over a council in Antioch which, among other things, endorsed Pope Alexander and his teaching, anathematized Arius, and excommunicated others found to hold false doctrine.[36]

Upon learning of Hosius’ inability to resolve the dispute, and perhaps at Hosius’ suggestion, Constantine proceeded to take a historic and unprecedented step, calling a general council of all the bishops of the Empire, initially contemplated to take place in Ancyra before being relocated to Nicaea by Constantine so that he could attend given its proximity to Nicomedia, to address the relevant concerns. Thus, in the summer of 325, the Council of Nicaea commenced — the first “universal” council in Christian history. 

The Proceedings of the Council of Nicaea

Conciliarity has since the beginning represented an important feature of the Church’s governance philosophy. The Apostles, when faced with the pressing question of the Judaizers, conferred together around 49 A.D. at the first council in Jerusalem, where they openly discussed the matter and issued a statement memorializing their decisions and directing the churches to implement and abide by them in every place. Since that initial synod, the Church has upheld the Apostles’ conciliar model and its attendant judicial and legislative features as central to ecclesial administration, routinely utilizing councils to resolve doctrinal disputes, address schisms and contentions, establish normative practices, and manage administrative affairs. 

The notion of a universal council, however, with the heads of all Churches coming together “in free and brotherly deliberation” to “testify to all the world their agreement in the Faith handed down independently but harmoniously from the earliest times in Churches widely remote in situation, and separated by differences of language, race, and civilisation,” was “a grand and impressive idea, an idea approximately realised at Nicæa as in no other assembly that has ever met.”[37]

In the spring and early summer of 325 A.D., over 318 bishops, along with their delegations of countless presbyters, deacons, and lay believers, made their way, by land and sea, to the lakeside city of Nicaea, at the invitation of the Emperor, to confer regarding the Arian innovation and other ritual and administrative issues. They were the Emperor’s guests, with all costs and expenses associated with the conference born by the Emperor himself — an unprecedented and starkly unfamiliar occurrence, particularly in light of the then-recent decade of vicious persecution that had been carried out by the Empire against those very bishops and their colleagues, many of whom had perished in that assault. Indeed, some among those in attendance were confessors who had suffered in that persecution, and who still bore in their bodies the marks of their witness. 

Of the bishops in attendance, those who were or might be numbered as holding Arian convictions did not exceed 22, but were likely no less than 13.[38] Of these, the fiercest and most renowned was the aforementioned Eusebius of Nicomedia. Also present were the two bishops formerly excommunicated by the synod of Alexandria for their concurrence with Arius — Secundus of Ptolemais in Pentapolis and Theonas of Marmarica — and the central Arian circle was rounded out by Theognis, Bishop of Nicaea, and Maris of Chalcedon, both of whom also belonged to the inner circle of Arians by conviction.[39] In fact, Eusebius, Theognis, and Maris were, like Arius, disciples of Lucian, and proudly so.[40] The Arian position was likewise held by a number of about twelve additional — albeit not as consequential with respect to the Council itself — bishops, who included, most notably, Athanasius of Anazarbus, Narcissus of Neronias, Aetius of Lydda, Paulinus of Tyre, Theodotus of Laodicea, Gregory of Berytus, and Menophantus of Ephesus.[41]

Of particular note here is the conduct of the Arians in the days leading up to the Council — in a fashion typical of their penchant for public shows of disputation, they “engaged in preparatory logical contests before the multitudes,” causing many to be “attracted by the interest of their discourse.”[42] In one of these public debates, a layman who had suffered in the Persecution found himself present, and while being “a man of unsophisticated understanding, reproved these reasoners, telling them that Christ and his apostles did not teach us dialectics, art, nor vain subtilties, but simple-mindedness, which is preserved by faith and good works.”[43] As he spoke, God granted that the hearts of those who heard were moved, such that those present admired him and “assented to the justice of his remarks; and the disputants themselves, after hearing his plain statement of the truth, exercised a greater degree of moderation…”[44] The same, however, certainly cannot be said of their fellow Arians, who confronted and engaged in philosophical debates all manner of people in the streets — clergymen, lay men and women, and even pagans — such that they might win some to their cause. Indeed, so common was the occurrence that there seem to have even been pagan philosophers who attended certain proceedings of the Council, whether out of genuine curiosity as to the doctrines in discussion or in order to stir up controversy and influence those in attendance towards division and dispute.[45] 

On the other side, those who clearly and capably perceived and held fast to the sound doctrine of the Church and firmly opposed the Arians were chiefly Alexander of Alexandria, and his deacon, Athanasius, who joined him in the delegation to the Council from Alexandria, as well as Hosius, who likely presided at the Council, and others who supported them. These, by virtue of the nuances of the subject debate and the eminence of intellect and clarity of theological vision required, constituted the numerical minority in the assembly — between 20 and 30 bishops of the hundreds convened. “To this compact and determined group the result of the council was due, and in their struggle they owed much—how much it is hard to determine—to the energy and eloquence of the deacon Athanasius, who had accompanied his bishop to the council as an indispensable companion…”[46]

The majority, however, of those in attendance fell somewhere in the middle. Indeed, “[b]etween the convinced Arians and their reasoned opponents lay the great mass of the bishops, 200 and more, nearly all from Syria and Asia Minor…”[47] These were “composed of all those who, for whatever reason, while untainted with Arianism, yet either failed to feel its urgent danger to the Church, or else to hold steadily in view the necessity of an adequate test if it was to be banished.”[48] This class of attendees included the entire scope of possible personalities, intentions, and aptitudes — simple, faithful shepherds such as the bishop Spyridion of Cyprus (who was in fact a shepherd of sheep and known for immense piety and even certain miracles) who “wished for nothing more than that they might hand on to those who came after them the faith they had received at baptism, and had learned from their predecessors,”[49] worldly men who were not concerned in the slightest degree with the doctrinal issues in question, shoddy theologians lacking the intelligence or training to adequately comprehend the questions or nuances of the debate at hand, faithful clergymen who, while sincere in faith, “failed from lack of intellectual clearsightedness to grasp the question for themselves,” and “a few, possibly, who were inclined to think that Arius was hardly used and might be right after all…”[50] The Arians, calculated and manipulative as they were, could only hope that their charisma, evasiveness, and prowess in disputation might be effective in enticing some among this group to concur with their professions and support their cause, if only to oppose, out of staunch conservatism, the installment of a new formal creed or effective test that would expose the Arian impiety and universally apply to its rejection in the Churches of the Empire. 

We come now to the proceedings of the Council.  

“The real work of the council did not begin at once.”[51] Rather, as might in hindsight be considered unsurprising, the Emperor’s presence afforded those assembled an unrivaled opportunity to receive the Emperor’s attention with regard to personal complaints and concerns. “Commonplace men often fail to see the proportion of things, and to rise to the magnitude of the events in which they play their part.”[52] Thus, countless applications were made to Constantine by the bishops and clergy, which threatened to waste the resources allocated to the convocation so as to deal with the central matters of concern. The Emperor therefore appointed a day for the formal and final reception of all personal complaints, and burnt the papers in the presence of the assembled fathers, urging them on to the business of the Council by exhorting them to forget past offenses and recall God’s Judgment which will, on the Last Day, give to each his punishment or reward according to his deeds, while setting an appointed time “by which the bishops were to be ready for a formal decision of the matters in dispute.”[53] With this, the work of the Council could now begin. 

Quasi-formal meetings commenced, with Arius and his fellows meeting and engaging in discussions with the assembled bishops, especially those who staunchly opposed them, especially the Alexandrians. In due course, the shiftiness of the Arians became quite exposed: when confronted by their opponents and the conservatives in attendance with the Scriptural verses and passages that countered their teaching and seemed to leave “no doubt as to the eternal Godhead of the Son,” they whispered and gestured among themselves before expressing total agreement with the passage in question, finding a way to evasively interpret it in harmony with their heretical ideas. For instance, when presented verses that spoke of the Lord as being eternal, the Arians pointed to verses like 2 Corinthians 4:11 — “We who live are always delivered to death for Jesus’ sake…” And when confronted with passages concerning the Lord’s likeness to the Father and oneness with Him, as His image and so being of the same essence, the Arians explained that the Scriptures also speak of humans as being “the image and glory of God.”[54] And so with every biblical test, the Arians found a way to explain it away using other passages, reinterpreted and repurposed to fit their own agendas. 

But this evasiveness proved counterproductive to the Arians in their cause. Having betrayed their dishonesty in that manner, and underestimated the strangeness of their teaching, they quickly discovered that they had overestimated the support they thought was theirs or could be elicited at the Council, and could only rely on a few of those assembled to concur with their position and defend their cause. Rather than winning those who fell among the undecided majority, the Arians instead began to lose these one by one to the clear and convicting Orthodoxy of the Alexandrians and their doctrinal supporters. 

It was clear to the Orthodox in attendance that scriptural tests, which invariably left room for evasive interpretation, would be insufficient to clearly and conclusively condemn the Arian doctrine. But the proposition that a non-scriptural test, or an authoritative formula of the unanimous belief of the Church, be introduced was somewhat equally disconcerting, especially to those whose deep-seated conservatism gave rise to particular suspicion and concern in the face of such a stratagem. The only word, moreover, which could be found to categorically exclude any evasion by the Arians was homoousios, a Greek word not found in the Scriptures meaning “of one and the same essence” — a word with a somewhat significant negative theological history, having been denounced at the council of 269 A.D. which condemned and deposed Paul of Samosata in part due to his (perhaps unsound) use of it or agreement with those who used it improperly. Was the threat of Arianism in fact so serious that it warranted such measures, and could these measures themselves not also pose an equal if not greater threat to the Church?

The answer to these questions unintentionally came through a single misstep by Eusebius of Nicomedia. “When the day for the decisive meeting arrived it was felt that the choice lay between the adoption of the word, cost what it might, and the admission of Arianism to a position of toleration and influence in the Church.”[55] Upon the commencement of the scheduled meeting and appointed discussion, Eusebius, perhaps frustrated by the failure of the Arians until that point to win support by their strategy of appearing cooperative and willing to compromise, and feeling that the only hope left was a direct attack, presented a clear statement of his belief, which was “an unambiguous assertion of the Arian formula,” thereby exposing the tenets of Arianism in clear and unavoidable terms. “An angry clamour silenced the innovator, and his document was publicly torn to shreds”[56] — an “almost unanimous horror of the Nicene Bishops at the novelty and profaneness of Arianism” which “condemns it irrevocably as alien to the immemorial belief of the Churches.”[57] “Even the majority of the Arians were cowed,”[58] and the support for Arius dwindled to the five central bishops noted above. 

With Arianism exposed, what remained was to agree upon a test and formulation of Orthodoxy that precluded any misunderstanding or evasion. Here, the Council commenced its efforts to identify, prepare, and finalize such a document. Eusebius of Caesarea “produced a formula, not of his own devising…but consisting of the creed of his own Church with an addition intended to guard against Sabellianism.”[59] Although Eusebius himself, while not a disciple of Lucian, had supported Arius, and himself held certain questionable and unsound doctrinal views, the Creed he proposed was in fact sound with respect to the teaching of the Church, but did not contain the term homoousios which, by Hosius, the Alexandrians, and their supporters, as well as Constantine himself, was felt necessary as a watchword against the Arian heresy. Hence those among the assembled Fathers who were duly qualified proceeded to carefully overhaul the formula proposed, engaging in an editorial process of discussion and reflection as they systematically edited the document using terms and phrases from other creeds in use and added homoousios in discussing the relation of the Son with respect to the Father — “begotten, not created, homoousios [i.e. of one and the same essence] with the Father…”[60]

The draft Creed of Nicaea was thus prepared, and ready for execution by those in attendance. Here, “the council paused,” apparently with the majority still debating within their hearts whether to subscribe to this novel idea of a universal and authoritative Statement of Faith, especially one with a key term that is absent from the Scriptures and weighed down by a suspicious theological history. Indeed, the “history of the subsequent generation shews that the mind of Eastern Christendom was not wholly ripe for its adoption.”[61] But upon calling to mind what had transpired until that point at the Council, or else, as to the majority of the Arians, acknowledging their inevitable defeat and the impending victory of the Orthodox, one by one the bishops ratified the formulated Creed. In the end, all but two — the ever-stubborn Secundus and Theonas — refused to sign. Even those who supported Arius signed, although Eusebius of Nicomedia refused to ratify the documents memorializing Arius’ deposition and Eusebius of Caesarea signed with a “mental reservation” which prompted him to write to his Church to justify his signature. 

In the end, Arius was left alone with the two bishops who had stood by him since the beginning of the dispute. His remaining supporters, who once wrote and labored tirelessly in support of him, abandoned him when the circumstances of supporting him were no longer favorable to them — “not the last time that an Arian leader was found to turn against a friend in the hour of trial.”[62]

Besides Arianism, some additional issues were of concern to the Council. First, the question of the timing of the Paschal Feast was resolved, with those who celebrated with the Jews being formally compelled to adopt the mainstream practice — the outcome of not only the Emperor’s concern for imperial unity, but also, quite possibly, the intention of precluding, as far as was possible, the persistence of Jewish practices among the believers, especially in light of the influence that such practices had exerted on the Christians in Antioch and the ultimate emergence of the doctrine of Lucian and his disciples, as we have already discussed at length. Second, the problem of the Meletian Schism was addressed, with canons established to govern the administration of the Church in Egypt vis-à-vis the Meletians, and how to deal with those who had received a Meletian ordination. In all, twenty canons were promulgated, dealing with various administrative and ritual matters, including prohibiting kneeling or prostrating on Sundays and during the Holy Fifty Days — the days of Pentecost — while requiring all prayer to be made while standing. 

After approximately three months of deliberations, the Council concluded with a banquet hosted by Constantine in honor of the twentieth anniversary of his rule. Arius and the bishops who rejected either the decisions of the Council or its Creed were exiled — a fate which soon thereafter would also meet, albeit quite temporarily, Eusebius of Nicomedia and Theognis — and the 318 Fathers who ratified the Faith of Nicaea returned to their bishoprics having defended sound doctrine against the threat of Arianism. But all would not remain well for long. 

In 328, Alexander dies and Athanasius becomes his successor to the See of Saint Mark; almost immediately thereafter, Eusebius of Nicomedia is found back in Constantine’s favor and once more acting as bishop, having convinced the Emperor that he and Arius “held substantially the Creed of Nicaea.”[63] In the six years that followed, while Athanasius was occupied with his duties as the new bishop and enjoying a deceptively peaceful start to his episcopacy, the Arians silently operated in the background, garnering support, inventing schemes, and engaging in political maneuverings in order to turn the tides. And this they ultimately succeeded to do, such that in the 56 years between the Council of Nicaea and that of Constantinople in 381 — where it may be said that Arianism met its somewhat final defeat —, we find “a large majority of the Eastern bishops, especially of Syria and Asia Minor, the very regions whence the numerical strength of the council was drawn, in full reaction against the council; first against the leaders of the victorious party, [and] eventually and for nearly a whole generation against the [Creed of Nicaea] itself…”[64] In this period, the Church was subjected to the most severe internal storm of opposing parties, personal vendettas, councils and counter-councils, and every artifice of Satan. A substantial number of those who at Nicaea represented the “convinced” majority are consequently found turning against the Council, forcefully opposing Athanasius, and siding time and again with the various Arian factions — as Jerome notes, at the height of the unfortunate turmoil, “the world groaned to find itself Arian.”[65]

How then did the tide turn, and what was the history of these subsequent decades? The story of this time tracks most clearly with the life of Athanasius himself, and so it is in this manner that we shall set forth in brief the history of the period. 

From the First Peace to the End of the First Exile (328-337)[66]

Upon the death of Alexander and accession of Athanasius to the papacy of Alexandria, Athanasius was probably not yet thirty years of age. And yet, as it was with Paul’s disciple Timothy, age was not a hindrance to the spiritual and intellectual loftiness of Alexander’s disciple Athanasius. While the Arians indeed capitalized on his age to object to his ordination as uncanonical, Athanasius’ own people, the believers of Egypt, faithfully flocked to, defended, and supported their bishop, whose prodigiousness had long been of renown — and this not only in the initial years of his reign, when excitement and enthusiasm at the beginnings of a new papacy are most pronounced and untempered by the passage of time, but unwaveringly even until his death in 373, following his tenure of 45 years in the episcopacy.

As we have seen thus far in passing, Athanasius’ involvement in ecclesial affairs and importance to the doctrinal conditions of his day did not commence with his episcopacy. Rather, by 328, he had been a faithful and instrumental disciple of his predecessor for at least a decade, if not longer. In addition, as we set forth in the first entry in our series, his upbringing at the hands of a pious family, lifelong immersion in the liturgical life of the Church, intimate association with Abba Antony and the monastic fathers of his day, educational experience as a student of the School of Alexandria, where he received the highest education available in his day, and firm grasp of the Scriptures and Patristic Tradition until his time rendered him not only prodigious, but also, and more importantly, well equipped to embody, clearly appreciate, effectively defend, and competently convey the Faith of Christ in all of its soundness, spirituality, and strength. 

Thus, while still only about 18 or 20 years old, between 316 and 318 A.D. — that is, shortly before the Arian Controversy arose —, Athanasius had penned his instant Christian classic Against the Heathen and On the Incarnation, exhibiting therein all the marks of exceptional intelligence, theological brilliance, and sound-spiritedness as he endeavored to demonstrate the reasonableness of the Christian Faith against contemporary religious and philosophical attacks against it. And what is more, while still only a young deacon, he was an instrumental and steady advisor and assistant to Pope Alexander in his opposition to Arius, and may have even assisted him in preparing the letters he penned in connection with the initial stage of the Controversy. And at the Council, we are told that he played a significant part in the debates against Arius and his supporters, and was an important contributor to the defense of Orthodoxy undertaken there. 

It was therefore a natural development that Pope Alexander, while on his deathbed, selected Athanasius as his successor. Athanasius, however, was not present, being away from Alexandria either for personal or ministerial reasons or otherwise due to his knowledge or suspicion that Alexander would choose him, and so seeking to escape, as many before him had done, from the gravity of such a post. The dying patriarch’s own words, however, seem to indicate the latter — when another deacon of Alexandria also named Athanasius, whether due to blameless error or in an ambitious attempt at seizing an opportunity, came forward to answer his call, Alexander ignored him while repeating the name of Athanasius and saying: “You think to escape, but you will not escape.”[67] And so Alexander died on April 17, 328, and on June 8, Athanasius was chosen to succeed him in accordance with either his wishes or prophetic foretelling. 

The first several years of Athanasius’ bishopric were, on the surface, as we have said, overwhelmingly peaceful. He embarked straightaway on a pastoral tour of the dioceses and churches within his episcopal purview, even reaching the south of Egypt, where he met with Pachomius and his monastic federation. When Pachomius, however, heard that Athanasius desired to ordain him, he disappeared into the crowd of thousands of monks gathered to welcome the pope and sent word to Athanasius that he would not see him again unless he promised to forego his intention, of which Athanasius then reassured him. 

But while Athanasius was busy “[giving] comfort to the holy Churches,”[68] the Arians were beginning to make headway in their cause. Eusebius of Nicomedia was restored to Nicomedia after his brief exile, and with his network of associates began to regain influence with Constantine and the political powers. Arius and the other exiled Arians, moreover, continued their maneuverings to gain sympathy and propagate their ideology, such that two bishops from Illyricum, Valens and Ursacius, joined the Arian cause, having likely been converted to it through contact with Arius in exile. With these forces, and especially their acting upon both the imperial court, to win support and sponsorship from Constantine’s closest circle of confidants and associates, opportunistic and self-seeking as they also were, and Constantine’s overwhelmingly personal and political, rather than doctrinal, interests and priorities, Constantine began to soften the hardline stance he had taken regarding the Arians at and immediately after Nicaea, becoming more tolerant and accepting of both Eusebius personally and the Arians more generally. 

Constantine’s growing support of the Arians was further bolstered by societal factors — the philosophers and pagans as well as many government officials came to align themselves with the Arians, whose ideas were of a baser and more easily accepted sort and thus more likely to attract the support of these cohorts. The support of these classes of people was often instrumental in empowering the Arians and assisting them in asserting dominance over local churches and even ousting pro-Nicene bishops from their churches and sees. 

The first-fruits of these maneuverings by the Arians began to emerge in the early 330s. Initially, Eusebius succeeded to persuade Constantine to recall Arius from exile, and to exert pressure on Athanasius to readmit him to the Church of Alexandria. When Athanasius refused, rightly noting that Arius’ excommunication was effectuated by a conciliar decision such that it could not be undone by a personal one, the Arians resorted to another tactic, collaborating once again with their ever-willing allies, the Meletians, to concoct accusations and conspiratorial attacks against Athanasius. 

The first of these assaults involved three Meletian bishops lodging a complaint against Athanasius to the Emperor, for allegedly imposing harsh taxes on the Egyptian Church. Unfortunately for them, however, two Alexandrian priests were present to disprove the claims, and Constantine dismissed the charges and rebuked their inventors.

Two additional elaborate accusations emerged. 

First, the case of Ischyras, who was ordained by Collothus during his schism and whose ordination had therefore been invalidated by the synod of Alexandria in 324. Despite his null ordination, he apparently continued to carry out the duties of the priesthood in his village. Upon hearing of this from the legitimate presbyter of the village in his visit to the diocese, Athanasius apparently sent Macarius, a clergyman accompanying him on the visitation, to summon Ischyras for an explanation. Macarius found him sick and bedridden, but requested of his father that he dissuade him from continuing to carry out the duties of the priesthood. Ischyras apparently responded by not only persisting in his practices, but also aligning with the Meletians and alleging, in connection with the Arian conspiracy at hand, that he had been celebrating the Eucharist when Macarius stormed in, broke the chalice, and desecrated the altar. The tale continued to change, however, and Ischyras eventually admitted, at the advice of his relatives, that he had been pressured by violence to lie, even preparing a formal written retraction. However, apparently in response to being placed under censure for his offense, he would later renew his accusations against Athanasius, modifying them yet further such that it was then Athanasius who broke the chalice and destroyed Ischyras’ “basilica,” when in reality Ischyras’ “church” was nothing more than a small cottage. 

Second, a fantastical tale was invented involving a Meletian bishop, Arsenius, who was bribed into suddenly disappearing. The Arians and Meletians began to spread rumors that Athanasius had murdered Arsenius and was using one of his amputated hands for black magic — a severed hand was even circulated as proof of the alleged crime. This evolved into a substantial scandal, such that Constantine ordered an investigation by his half-brother Dalmatius and suggested a council at Caesarea under the presidency of Eusebius its bishop, to which Athanasius refused to agree given Eusebius’ far from impartial dispositions towards Athanasius, which refusal offended Eusebius. Thus, the contemplated council was agreed to take place in Tyre in 335, with Athanasius present and with a Count Dionysius being commissioned to represent Constantine in the proceeding. 

Meanwhile, Athanasius’ supporters discovered Arsenius’ whereabouts, finding him alive and hiding in a Meletian monastery in Upper Egypt. Although the Meletians, upon learning that Arsenius was  known to be there, smuggled him to Tyre, Athanasius’ deacon succeeded to arrest the presbyter of the Meletian monastery and bring him to Alexandria, where he confessed before the Duke to the plot. Ultimately, Arsenius was discovered at an inn in Tyre, arrested, and positively identified by the bishop of Tyre, at which time he confessed to the ploy and eventually reconciled with Athanasius. 

Despite these accusations against him proving unsuccessful, they nevertheless were the impetus for, and ultimately were renewed against Athanasius at, the Council of Tyre in 335, which was held on the bishops’ way to Jerusalem to celebrate Constantine’s thirtieth imperial anniversary by consecrating the Church of the Holy Sepulcher which he had built there on the site of Helen’s discovery of the Cross. At this unusual conference, Athanasius faced an assembly that was on its face hostile to him, intent on securing his elimination, in which he and his supporters were outnumbered two to one by the Arians, including Eusebius of Nicomedia and several others whom we have already encountered herein. There, the charges already refuted were reintroduced, with even the accusation of Athanasius’ murder of Arsenius being revived. But Athanasius, ever witty in humor and sharp in mind, was prepared — he defended himself against every accusation, and even staged a dramatic act when, upon being confronted with the allegation of murdering Arsenius and severing his hand for sorcery, with the Arians even producing a severed hand in the council as evidence, Athanasius brought Arsenius out into their midst with his hands covered, only to slowly uncover each of his hands and reveal that both were intact before quipping as to whether Arsenius had a third hand that he had cut off, prompting the leader of the Meletians himself to flee the gathering in shame. But Athanasius, along with his allies, perceived that the convocation was compromised and intent on ruling against them, and so he and four bishops secretly departed the council to Jerusalem, where they consecrated the Church of the Holy Sepulcher themselves, before the Arians could arrive to do so, and then made their way to Constantinople to secure a meeting with the Emperor. The bishops assembled at the Council, however, proceeded by deposing Athanasius in his absence and then making their way to Jerusalem, where they engaged in their intended activities while readmitting Arius and his allies to communion. 

Meanwhile, in Constantinople, Athanasius had succeeded to intercept Constantine on a public road, as he was out on his horse, and present his case to him. Thus, Constantine wrote in dismay to the bishops of the Council, summoning them to Constantinople for an audience. They received the summons while in Jerusalem, at which time Arius departed for Alexandria and Eusebius and his associates determined that five of them, including Eusebius of Caesarea, would respond to the summons at Constantinople, while the rest departed to their homes. At Constantinople, the Eusebians abandoned the silly accusations that had been levied by them against Athanasius in Tyre, instead making a final deadly charge — Athanasius, they said, had committed treason by threatening to prevent Egypt’s grain from reaching the capital. Athanasius’ defenses and reasoning were here unavailing, for the seriousness of the charge struck Constantine in a squarely political area of great concern. Thus, he ordered Athanasius’ banishment to Teveri, beginning on February 5, 336, as a purported act of mercy in what otherwise would have been deserving of capital punishment. 

As for Arius, he had attempted to regain access to the churches in Alexandria, but the clergy and lay faithful there, loyal as they ever were to their bishop and to the faith of Nicaea, would not permit him. He therefore relocated to Constantinople, where he appeared before the Emperor and apparently satisfied him by a sworn profession of Orthodoxy, leading to a day being fixed for his reception into communion. Alexander, bishop of Constantinople, a dedicated and renowned pro-Nicene, was understandably quite troubled by this development. He therefore prayed in a church in Constantinople that either he or Arius might be taken away before such an outrage to the Faith should be permitted. And so history tells us that Arius died suddenly in 336, the day before his intended reception — in a terrible manner, with his bowels bursting out of him as he relieved himself.[69]

At this time, Athanasius remained in exile in Treveri, probably spending around a year and possibly celebrating two Feasts of the Resurrection there, perhaps in 336 and certainly in 337, in an unfinished church. Then, on May 22, 337, Constantine died at Nicomedia, having just received an Arian baptism at the hands of Eusebius of Nicomedia. Soon thereafter, on June 17, his eldest son wrote a letter to the people and clergy of Alexandria, announcing the restoration of their bishop. In light of this, Athanasius reached Alexandria on November 23, 337, amid great rejoicings, the clergy especially “esteeming that the happiest day of their lives.” And so Athanasius’ first exile came to end and the second peaceful period of his reign commenced, which would only last for one year, four months and twenty-four days.

From the First Return to the Second Return (337-346)[70]

After Constantine’s death in 337, the political and religious landscape in the Empire quickly shifted. The Eusebian faction found a powerful ally in the new Eastern Emperor, Constantius, while the Western Emperor, Constans, was favorable to the Nicene party. Thus, the Arians in the East began pushing the narrative that bishops like Athanasius, who had returned from exile with the support of the Emperor, had done so improperly — without being reinstated by a formal council.

Athanasius had always insisted that the Council of Tyre, at which he was deposed, was a corrupt and illegal convocation devoid of legitimate authority. Nevertheless, the debate over the interplay between secular and ecclesial authority, particularly with respect to the jurisdictional affairs of the Church, was cause for great confusion and political abuse, such that even certain well-meaning Eastern bishops, among the conservatives we have already discussed, saw the return of Athanasius absent formal synodal approval as disorderly, and so opposed him in this regard. 

In light of these factors, Athanasius’ stay in Alexandria following his first exile would inevitably endure only for a brief and troubled period. The city was still home to a number of Arians, who, importantly, had the sympathy of the Jews and Pagans, and it was even reported that the monks, and especially the renowned Abba Antony, were in agreement with them. This scandalous accusation, however, was immediately dissipated by the arrival of Antony himself to the city, at the urgent request of the Orthodox and in defense of the blamelessness of his doctrine. He spent two days in the city, during which throngs of Christians and heathen alike flocked to hear and see him. He denounced Arianism as the most lamentable of heresies, as he is repeatedly recorded as expressing in the account of his Life authored by Athanasius, before concluding his visit with a solemn escort out of the city by Athanasius and the rest of the clergy and faithful on July 27, 338. According to Athanasius himself, in those few days, more people became Christians than would have been converted in an entire year.

But contentions grew in Alexandria. The Eusebians painted Athanasius as a source of chaos and accused him of everything from misconduct to embezzling food intended for the widows. A popular and respected prefect, Philagrius, was reappointed over the city, but instead of being a cause of calm, his return sparked added unrest. Meanwhile, the Eusebians attempted to install their own bishop in Alexandria — first Pistus, a known Arian, and then ultimately Gregory of Cappadocia, a more politically palatable choice.

To justify their actions and challenge Athanasius’ legitimacy, the Eusebians sent a delegation to Rome to make their case. In response, Athanasius gathered the Egyptian bishops, issued a powerful defense, and sent his own envoys to Rome. The Roman bishop, Julius, proposed a council to address the contention, but the crafty Eusebians delayed and avoided the invitation, and instead held their own council at Antioch where they officially replaced Athanasius with Gregory.

Tensions in Alexandria came to a head in Lent of 339. On Sunday, March 18, Athanasius was pursued by his persecutors in the night, and the next morning, after baptizing many, he fled from the Church of Theonas just as Gregory the Arian entered and usurped the bishopric in the city. Athanasius spent approximately four weeks hiding in the city among faithful believers before escaping. On or just after the Feast of the Resurrection, he penned a passionate appeal to the Church about the injustice of Gregory’s imposition and how he was unjustly treated. Then, on Resurrection Monday, he escaped to Rome. This second exile lasted over seven years, from April 339 to October 346 — it was the longest of his five banishments. 

Athanasius’ second exile is split into two phases, the first of which lasted four years, with Athanasius taking refuge in Rome, arriving there in the middle of 339. Soon he was joined by other exiled bishops, such as Marcellus of Ancyra and Paul of Constantinople — fellow victims of the Eusebians’ anti-Nicene efforts. These exiled prelates were supported by Pope Julius I while in Rome, with Athanasius maintaining close ties with his flock in Egypt through correspondences carried to and from Rome through ecclesial channels of communication. 

While Athanasius resided in Rome, Pope Julius responded to accusations from the Arians and their sympathizers, as well as the conservatives who objected to Athanasius’ return to Alexandria by imperial decree rather than synodal action, by convening a synod of Italian bishops which cleared Athanasius of all charges and reinstated him and the other Orthodox exiles to their respective sees. Pope Julius further authored a letter to the Eastern bishops, rebuking them not only for their accusations but also for their own blatant disregard of established ecclesial procedures.

The Arians and Eastern bishops, however, were obstinate. Gathering at Antioch in 341 for the “Council of the Dedication” — of Constantine’s “Golden” Church at Antioch — they began circulating new creeds in a show of protest against the Nicene Creed. Of these, most notable was the so-called “Lucianic Creed,” which sought to affirm the Son’s “likeness” to the Father while carefully avoiding the Nicene term homoousios. While these alternative creeds were intended to appear balanced, they represented a calculated attempt to sideline Nicaea and its proponents, especially Athanasius, by introducing new statements of the Faith which would diminish the significance of Nicaea and represent competing convocations to undermine the authority of that council. The Arians, moreover, seized the opportunity to capitalize on the formulaic conservatism, ecclesial naïveté, and theological ineptitude of the majority of the Eastern bishops in question by hijacking and manipulating their reactionary efforts to permit Arian theology and impart to it the appearance of legitimacy through permissive or ambiguous creedal formulas. 

Many of the conservative bishops in question, however, it must be said, were not Arian by conviction, but were instead members of the conservative class of attendees at Nicaea who, while holding in principle the Faith of Nicaea, took issue with the new term, homoousios, and had therefore subscribed to the Creed of Nicaea only insofar as it was the only option truly available to the Council to counteract the Arian machinations, or in order to garner favor with the Emperor, since the word had been suggested by him, or out of fear lest they be labeled Arians for their refusal to accept the Creed of Nicaea. Many of these would eventually be reconciled to the Church in Athanasius’ own lifetime, largely due to his efforts at overcoming terminological obstacles to reconciliation that did not additionally implicate substantive doctrinal differences.

Meanwhile, political tensions continued to rise. The Western Emperor Constans, sympathetic to Athanasius and the Nicene cause and prompted by Julius, pressured his brother Constantius, Emperor in the East, to resolve the conflict, resulting in the Council of Sardica around 343 A.D. — a major attempt at reconciliation. But the Eastern delegation, unwilling to sit among Athanasius and his allies, whom they viewed as guilty, refused to attend, instead holding their own rival council in Philippopolis. There they issued a sweeping condemnation of the Nicene camp — excommunicating Athanasius, Pope Julius, and even Hosius of Cordoba. Unperturbed, the Western bishops at Sardica held their own council as planned, there reaffirming the Nicene Creed, rejecting any need for a new formula, and promulgating several significant canons.

Athanasius, still in exile, then proceeded to Gaul and northern Italy, patiently awaiting his chance to return, which opportunity arose after Constans clearly expressed that any further persecution of Nicene bishops would bring about political consequences. In response, Constantius surprisingly relented — Gregory, the Arian bishop in Alexandria, died in 345, and Constantius himself wrote to Athanasius inviting him back.

Following stops in Rome and Trier, Athanasius made a brief but symbolic visit to Antioch, where Constantius reportedly greeted him warmly — though not without some political requests, including that Athanasius share a church with the Arians in Alexandria, which proposition Athanasius declined unless the same privilege were afforded to the Nicenes in Antioch, which was of course refused. Then, after a brief stop in Jerusalem, Athanasius finally returned to Alexandria in October 346, where he was warmly welcomed by his people, who met him a hundred miles away to process him to his see with immense joy. 

So was Athanasius’ second return to Alexandria from exile. He remained there in relative peace from October 21, 346, to February 8, 356 — his longest undisturbed residence among his flock.

From the Golden Decade to the Third Return (346-362)[71]

With its pope back home after his prolonged absence, and conditions much improved when compared to the preceding years which the believers in Alexandria endured under Gregory the Arian usurper, the Church in Egypt underwent a distinct spiritual revival during the Golden Decade. This was in many respects the product of the same instincts that had contributed to a similar revival immediately following the last era of persecution. Large crowds of Christians flocked to the churches, the widows and orphans were no longer left destitute, and spiritual zeal and prayerfulness palpably increased, such that, according to Athanasius himself, every house became a church — “Increased strictness of life, the sanctification of home, renewed application to prayer, and practical charity, these were a worthy welcome to their long-lost pastor.”[72]

Monasticism likewise flourished during these years, with Athanasius deepening his connection with the monks, especially with respect to the disciples of Pachomius and Antony, which connections would prove instrumental to him in his eventual third exile, when he was able to take refuge among them and communicate with his flock and fellow shepherds through the monastic systems of communication. 

It was also during this period that Athanasius left a lasting impact on the administration of the Church — both across the region in his day and thereafter until today —, often ordaining bishops from among the monks, who were the most theologically learned of the believers,[73] to assist him in the defense of Orthodoxy against Arianism, and even ordaining a bishop, Frumentius, for the kingdom of Axum (Ethiopia). In time, Athanasius succeeded to unify the Egyptian Church, expelling most of the Arian influence from Egypt.

Outside Egypt, however, the situation was more tumultuous. Tensions between the pro-Nicene and Arian/anti-Nicene camps continued to fester,[74] and Constantius reverted to supporting the Arians after his brother Constans was killed. A series of political and religious moves followed — councils, exiles, imperial pressure on the bishops to condemn Athanasius, and ultimately Constantius attempting to have Athanasius removed by force. 

During the midnight praises on February 8, 356, at the time of the Second Canticle (Psalm 136), a large horde of soldiers seized upon the Church of Theonas while Athanasius was in attendance, in order to arrest him. He insisted, however, that he would not leave with them until they had permitted all the people to depart safely. But in the confusion, as the people rushed to exit, the monks and congregants rescued Athanasius, and he was made to disappear. From that moment, Athanasius was in exile for six years and fourteen days — until February of 362. 

Athanasius’ third exile marked the highest point of his influence and impact. Throughout it, Athanasius never wavered in his service — writing, organizing, and strengthening the Church from hiding, especially among the monks. From his secret abode — typically in the Egyptian desert — Athanasius wrote prolifically to strengthen the Church, with over half of his surviving works having been authored during this exile. 

By this time, Arianism had largely disappeared from Egypt, although it continued to spread and work its evil in other parts of the empire. But while Athanasius was in hiding, the initial signs of the end of Arianism had begun.

Athanasius initially planned to appeal directly to Constantius. But as he journeyed toward Italy, he received disturbing news — prominent bishops were being exiled, churches were being violently taken over, and Constantius had appointed a new bishop named George to replace him. Even Hosius, who had presided over the Council of Nicaea, was severely tortured, despite being 100 years old, until he subscribed to an Arian statement of faith — yet even as he did so, he refused to condemn Athanasius.[75] Realizing it was too dangerous to continue, Athanasius turned back, retreating deeper into the desert.

Back in Alexandria, chaos ensued. Soldiers attacked churches, worshippers were harassed, and officials — both pagan and Christian — were pressured to support George, the Emperor’s Arian appointee, who, arriving in early 357, came with military force and promptly launched a brutal crackdown: bishops and clergy were exiled, faithful Christians were persecuted, and even cemeteries were attacked. His rule in Alexandria lasted approximately 18 months before the people had enough — riots broke out and George was driven out of the city, and when he eventually returned after Constantius’ death, the angry population seized him, threw him in prison, and eventually lynched him.

During this third exile, Athanasius was mostly among the monks, but he also seems to have stayed secretly in Alexandria during certain periods, maybe even in the home of a consecrated virgin. The monks especially sheltered him, kept him informed, and helped circulate his letters. It was likely during this time that he wrote the Life of Antony. 

Meanwhile, theological shifts were taking place across the empire — in keeping with the wisdom of Gamaliel,[76] the Arians had begun to factionalize. The radicals, called Anomoeans, pushed the extreme Arian view that the Son was unlike the Father, as Arius himself seems to have believed and taught in some fashion.[77] In contrast, the more moderate Arian party, in striving to maintain a more conservative tone, utilized vague language like homoios (and thus were called Homoians), conceiving of Christ as being “like the Father” and thereby leaving the issue open to interpretation — a political strategy more than a theological one.

On the other side, the conservatives, or so-called “Semi-Arians,” led by Basil of Ancyra, rejected full-blown Arianism but nevertheless hesitated over the Nicene term homoousios — “of one and the same essence” — in light of its past association with Sabellianism. This cohort instead preferred the use of homoiousios, meaning “of a similar nature,” as a compromise.

The theological tensions at issue came to a head in 359 at two councils — one in Ariminum in the West and one in Seleucia in the East. Under imperial pressure, most bishops were pressured into accepting vague Homoian creeds, rejecting any discussion of substance, or essence, altogether. Athanasius, though still in hiding, was following all this closely and writing prolifically — refuting Arianism, defending Orthodoxy, and even reaching out to the moderates to plant the seeds of reconciliation. In the end, the Arian movement began to crumble beneath its own contradictions. The radicals broke off into their own sects, the moderates lost credibility, and the conservatives began inching back toward the Nicene party. 

When Constantius died in 361, Julian, known to history as the Apostate, became Emperor, and soon thereafter restored the exiled bishops. Athanasius thus promptly returned to Alexandria, just twelve days after Julian’s edict was posted, marking the end of his third exile. His return to Alexandria, however, would be short lived, lasting only about eight months. 

During this time, Athanasius held a council in Alexandria, in 362, gathering together some of the most faithful bishops, many of whom had suffered during the Arian Controversy, in an effort to heal the divisions in the Church, especially after the failure of earlier councils which had attempted to do so. Among the concerns apparently addressed at this council was the heresy of the Pneumatomachaeans, or Tropiki, who denied the divinity of the Holy Spirit — a natural outcome of the Arian heresy, for if the Son was created, then so was the Holy Spirit, and if the Son was not of the same essence as the Father, then neither was the Spirit. In a synodal letter from Alexandria to Antioch issued after the council, Athanasius and the other bishops demanded that all converts from Arianism issue a condemnation against “those who say that the Holy Spirit is a creature and separate from the essence of Christ. For those who while pretending to cite the faith confessed at Nicaea, venture to blaspheme the Holy Spirit, deny Arianism in words only, while in thought they return to it.”[78] And irrespective of this letter, Athanasius wrote against this heresy in certain of his writings, including his important letters to Serapion, the Bishop of Thmuis,[79] to whom Antony had bequeathed one of his two garments while gifting the other to Athanasius himself.[80]

Athanasius led reconciliatory efforts with profound wisdom, encouraging peace and unity, albeit not at the expense of sound doctrine, while even assisting in the restoration of some who had previously been aligned with Arianism, without harshly condemning them — in the words of Jerome, this council “snatched the world from the jaws of Satan.”[81]

The wisdom of Athanasius in seeking unity was, however, woefully uncommon. A pro-Nicene bishop named Lucifer, for instance, in blind zeal ordained a bishop in Antioch to replace a traveling bishop without the proper support, occasioning an enduring division both in Antioch and between the Eastern and Western churches, even those among them that were of the Nicene faith. Still, Athanasius remained resolute, expending every effort in striving towards legitimate reconciliation. 

From the Fourth Exile to the End of Athanasius’ Life (362-373)[82]

Emperor Julian had only just recalled the bishops when he took exception to Athanasius’ exercise of his episcopal functions as a result of that restoration, claiming that he had recalled the exiled bishops to their countries, but not to their sees. He therefore ordered, in several correspondences, that Athanasius leave Egypt at once, or risk severe punishment. 

In time, Athanasius acquiesced to the Emperor’s orders, and prepared to leave the city in October of 362. At the sight of it, his associates and friends were deeply saddened to lose their shepherd yet again, but he encouraged them, saying: “Be of good heart! It is only a cloud, and will soon pass away.”[83] At this, Athanasius took a Nile boat and set off toward Upper Egypt, but finding that he was tracked by the government officers he directed the boat’s course to be reversed, leading them to cross paths with their pursuers on the water. The soldiers, unsuspectingly, called to them regarding whether they had seen Athanasius, and he himself, in his characteristic wittiness, replied “he is not a great way off!”[84] Thus Athanasius evaded his hunters, and returned to the first station on the road east of Alexandria before traveling to Upper Egypt as far as Upper Hermupolis[85] and Antinoupolis.

As Athanasius approached Hermupolis, the bishops, clergy, and monks, about 100 in number, lined both banks of the Nile to welcome him, prompting him to wonder aloud: “Who are these that fly as a cloud and as doves with their young ones?”[86] Upon arriving, he greeted Abba Theodore before asking about the brethren and then being mounted on a donkey and escorted to the monastery with burning torches,[87] with Abba Theodore walking before him on foot. Athanasius’ visit to the monasteries was well pleasing to him, and he expressed approval of what he encountered there. And when Theodore, upon departing for his Easter visitation of the brethren, asked Athanasius to remember him in his prayers, his answer was characteristic of a man steeped in the Scriptures and possessed of a biblical tongue: “If I forget you, O Jerusalem…”[88]

Thereafter, about midsummer in 363, Athanasius is found near Antinoupolis[89], where loyal messengers warned him that his pursuers were again making progress. Thus, Theodore brought his covered boat to escort Athanasius up to Tabenne[90] and with an elder named Pammon they made their way slowly to their destination. Meanwhile, Athanasius became alarmed, praying quietly while Theodore’s monks towed the boat from the shore. In reply to an encouraging remark of Pammon, he spoke of the peace of mind he felt when under persecution, and of the consolation of suffering and even death for Christ’s sake. Hence Pammon glanced at Theodore, and they both smiled, barely restraining their laughter. Athanasius was confused — “do you think that I am a coward?,” he asked. “Tell him,” Theodore said to Pammon in response. “No, you tell him,” Pammon retorted. Theodore then informed Athanasius that at that very hour, Julian had been killed in Persia, and that he should lose no time in making his way to the new Christian Emperor, Jovian, who would restore him to the Church.

Athanasius then briefly returned to Alexandria before traveling secretly to meet Emperor Jovian and returning with him to Antioch. With imperial support, he was officially restored to his see, ending his fourth exile. He acted quickly, knowing the Arians were contriving a plot to block his return and install their own bishop, Lucius, and won Jovian’s support with a strong letter affirming the Nicene Creed, especially the divinity of the Holy Spirit. 

While in Antioch, it must be said, Athanasius strove to heal the divisions that were needlessly caused by the rashness of Lucifer, but the two groups, both doctrinally Orthodox, in opposition there secondary to that bishop’s interference were irreconcilable, and while certain bishops there subscribed to the Nicene Creed, Athanasius suspected not all were sincere, especially those suspected as evading any clear affirmation of the divinity of the Holy Spirit.

Athanasius returned to Alexandria in early 365, but soon faced a fifth, and final, expulsion, this time under Jovian’s successor, Valens, whose support was regrettably accorded to the Arians. This exile was short — Athanasius spent its duration in his own country home outside Alexandria, and popular support and political instability led to his recall within months. 

For the final seven years of his life, Athanasius lived in peace in Alexandria. He continued building churches and administering the affairs of the Church with a firm but fair conviction. He supported Basil of Caesarea’s emerging opposition to Arianism in the East, saying of him that he was the kind of bishop every diocese would wish to have.

As the end of Athanasius’ life drew near, new theological challenges continued to emerge — not only the denial of the godhead of the Holy Spirit by certain factions, but also the denial of the human soul of Christ. Even in old age, Athanasius responded forcefully to these notions in writing, defending the Church’s faith in Christ’s full humanity with his marked clarity of thought, firm grasp of the Scriptures, and intimate familiarity with the Tradition of the Church. And so, in May of 373, at the age of 75 and after 45 years in the papacy, Athanasius quietly passed away, but not before naming Peter, an able and pious priest in Alexandria, as his successor. 

From the Death of Athanasius to the Council of Constantinople (373-381)[91]

The Arians, ever cunning and opportunistic, seized the opportunity of Athanasius’ death by submitting a bribe to the governor and testifying that the new Pope Peter was accustomed to worshipping idols, among other false accusations. The governor’s soldiers were therefore commissioned to invade the churches, and proceeded to violate both them and the believers assembled in them in horrifying ways. The governor’s intention moreover having been to kill Pope Peter, he was left no recourse but to flee this new persecution, going into hiding for some time. From his place of refuge, he authored a public circular wherein he recorded the relevant events. 

Meanwhile, Valens, the Arian emperor of the East, had returned Lucius the Arian, the intruder patriarch, to Alexandria. This Lucius carried out a campaign of severe persecution against the Orthodox, torturing all who refused to accept and adhere to Arianism, which assault even reached the monks of the wilderness. At this time, Pope Peter sought refuge in Rome, where Pope Damasus I received and hosted him. He remained in his hospitality five years, during which the people learned from him about the Egyptian monastic system and its fathers, until he returned to Alexandria in the Spring of 378. 

Then, also in 378, the Western emperor Gratian removed the Arian bishop, Euzoius, from Antioch, and handed over the churches there to the Orthodox Meletius of Antioch — in whose absence Lucifer had unfortunately ordained a rival bishop for Antioch around 362 A.D., as we have seen above, and who had presided in October 379 over the great synod of Antioch in which dogmatic agreement between East and West was finally established. 

At this time, Gregory of Nazianzus reluctantly acquiesced to being relocated from his small diocese of Sasima to the see of Constantinople in order to win over the city to Nicene Orthodoxy, after it had been so entirely overrun with Arianism that there did not remain one Orthodox church there at which Gregory could reside and from which he could preach and serve. Thus, he commenced his service in Constantinople in a villa lent to him by his cousin, which he called the Anastasis.

Gregory’s homilies, extraordinarily eloquent and moving as they were, were well received by the Christians of Constantinople, and attracted ever-growing crowds to the Anastasis. Fearing his popularity, his opponents decided to strike — during the evening service for the Feast of the Resurrection in 379, an Arian mob descended upon his church, wounding Gregory and killing another bishop. 

With the arrival of the emperor Theodosius in 380, however, the theological situation began to turn towards its final resolution, in favor of Nicaea. In view of the ongoing issues with the Arians, along with other pressing heresies, such as the denial of the divinity of the Holy Spirit, Theodosius convened the Council of Constantinople in 381. 150 bishops attended, denouncing Arianism and several other heresies, including that of the Pneumatomachaeans. 

At the Council, the Nicene Creed was expanded and revised to include several additional articles of faith, concerning the Holy Spirit, the Church, one baptism for the remission of sins, the resurrection of the dead and the eternal life, with its original anathemas removed. Four canons were also promulgated, dealing with several jurisdictional and doctrinal matters. Two additional canons arising from a second council in Constantinople, in 382, were at some later time appended to these, and a spurious additional canon was at some point added to the collection as a purported seventh canon of Constantinople. 

From the Council of Constantinople on, Arianism gradually weakens until it becomes operative only on the fringes of the mainstream Church. In light of its consistent endorsement of the Nicene position and resistance to the Arians, the reign of Theodosius, between 379 and 395, provided the stability and political support required to effectively oust Arianism from the Empire, rendering it an enfeebled shell of its once dominant position. But Arianism, even while weakened to the utmost extent, still cannot be said to have died with the Council of Constantinople. Its influence persisted among several peoples outside the Roman Empire, including the Goths, Langobards and Vandals of Western Europe. Later, echoes of Arianism are found resounding in the heresy of the Ishmaelites — the Muslims — then among several factions in the Protestant Reformation, and finally down to our day with the Unitarians and Jehovah’s Witnesses. 

Concluding Remarks

The general understanding of the Arian Controversy, even in the minds of those who possess a higher than average measure of theological or historical familiarity, is most often reductive, simplistic, and lacking in the nuance necessary to engender either an accurate appreciation of the matter or the sorts of instructive principles one might garner from a more informed appreciation of it. But such a superficial narrative, whatever its motives or causes, is, as I hope we have conveyed in this series, a disservice both to the memory of the Fathers who withstood fierce opposition in defense of the Faith of Nicaea and to the reader’s potential edification at studying and coming to learn the subject history. 

A few concluding comments, by way of elicited and hoped-for lessons, are now in order, so as to bring our series to an edifying and inspiring close. 

In no uncertain terms, Arius, Eusebius of Nicomedia, and the Arians more generally, were not intentional heretics. That is, they did not purposefully choose to espouse heresy, or to cause the harm to the Church that arose as a result of their actions and doctrines. In this regard, the words of the Lord with respect to the Jews — “they know not what they do”[92] — apply with equal force to the Arians, and to all heretics in the Church’s history. “Professing to be wise, they became fools,”[93] with there being no greater testament to this foolishness than the Arian system’s ultimate illogicality and self-contradiction — “how, starting from the Sonship of Christ, it came round to a denial of His Sonship; how it started with an interest for Monotheism and landed in a vindication of polytheism; how it began from the incomprehensibility of God even to His Son, and ended (in its most pronounced form) with the assertion that the divine Nature is no mystery at all, even to us.”[94]

The Arians, it must be said, were truly convinced of their dogmatic assertions. They had received their teaching in a manner of discipleship, however unsound, and were convinced of its veracity and sincere in their belief that the Orthodox, and not they themselves, were the innovators and proclaimers of a deviant and unfounded doctrine. As Antony precisely observed, their fatal failure was thus in their ignorance of the truth regarding themselves: 

“As for Arius, who stood up in Alexandria, he spoke strange words about the Only-begotten: to him who has no beginning, he gave a beginning, to him who is ineffable among men he gave an end, and to the immovable he gave movement. ‘If one man sins against another man, one prays for him to God. But if someone sins against God, to whom should one pray for him?’ (1 Sam. 2:25). That man has begun a great task, an unhealable wound. If he had known himself, his tongue would not have spoken about what he did not know. It is, however, manifest, that he did not know himself.”[95]

The problem of the heretics, after all, is invariably this: spiritual unsoundness, defective discipleship, and poverty of virtue. 

Equally instructive in the story of the Arian Controversy is the danger to the Church of both spiritual immaturity and theological naïveté, especially among those entrusted by the Church to teach and shepherd the flock of Christ. The Arians themselves, as we have seen, having received elevated ecclesial positions and educational posts, were empowered and emboldened in their cause, with their reach and impact heightened and rendered potent by their membership in the clerical ranks. The Nicene Fathers, moreover, were heavily opposed and vehemently challenged in their defense of Nicaea and its faith not only by the Arians, but also by the conservative and intellectually unsophisticated bishops whom the politically savvy Arians manipulated and influenced to further their own cause. These caused great pain to the Church, perpetuating division and confusion in the wake of what they considered a defense of ecclesial order and traditional norms. 

What is more, through the Controversy, the Church learned firsthand the cost of involving worldly powers and political authorities in ecclesial matters, and of putting its trust “in princes and the children of men, in whom is no salvation.”[96] It was Athanasius himself who “was the first to grasp this clearly,” and, curiously, it was the Donatists and Arian Anomoeans who in the fourth century were most unwavering in their opposition to “civil intervention in Church affairs.”[97] It took the turmoil of the fourth century to educate the believers in the fact that “the subjection of religion to the State is equally mischievous with that of the State to the Church,” and to teach them “that the civil sword might be drawn in support of heresy” as much as in opposition to it.[98] In an age where a Christian, or pro-Christian, emperor was a novelty, and before the consequences of ecclesial dependence upon and entwining with secular powers had been experienced and discerned, however, the bishops of the time find excuse for their inexperience. The same cannot be said today.

And finally, for our purposes, the Controversy clearly witnesses in history to the threat of debilitated spirituality, and of divesting the things of God of the reverence and decorum due to them. The Arians, as we have discussed, carried theological debate and discourse on matters of doctrine well beyond the sanctity of the theological school or the reverence of the liturgical setting, engaging, and assaulting the minds of, the theologically untrained and doctrinally illiterate in public and irreverent disputations concerning matters too profound for them.[99] Gregory of Nyssa therefore laments, concerning the Arian Controversy and especially the time of the Council of Constantinople: 

“For the entire city is filled with such people — the alleys, the markets, the streets, the wards, the clothing merchants, the bankers, those who sell us food. If you ask about the money, he gives you his philosophy on the begotten and the unbegotten. And if you inquire about the price of bread, ‘The Father is greater,’ he answers, ‘and the Son subordinate.’ And if you say, ‘Is the bath ready?’, he declares that the Son is from nothing.”[100]

For this reason, Gregory of Nazianzus, in Constantinople, around 380 A.D., reminds his hearers: “Not to every one, my friends, does it belong to philosophize about God; not to every one; the Subject is not so cheap and low; and I will add, not before every audience, nor at all times, nor on all points; but on certain occasions, and before certain persons, and within certain limits.”[101]

But despite these and the other disheartening aspects of the subject history, faithfulness, integrity, courage, and perseverance invariably shine through the gloom of ecclesial controversy. In the first place, the faithfulness of God, who “did not leave Himself without witness,”[102] but prepared in due season those who embodied the spirit, mind, and heart required to withstand the relentlessness of Satanic warfare against the Lord and His Church. And then, the virtue of the believers, whether clergy or laity, known or anonymous, who by God’s grace and their fidelity, sincerity, and determination did all that could be done to uphold the Faith of Christ defended and proclaimed at Nicaea — whether personally defending that Faith, as did Athanasius and his allies, or sheltering Athanasius and the other pro-Nicene leaders, as did the Egyptian monks and the believers of Alexandria and the other sees, even in the face of threats to their lives and livelihoods due to their sheltering imperial fugitives and men accused of treason, or, perhaps most significantly, persisting in supporting their Orthodox teachers and shepherds and passing on to their children and in their families the spirit and teaching of the sound Faith of Christ. 

In every ecclesial controversy, and in every era of weakness or conflict in the Church, there are found those, however few, who stand firm in the Lord, remain faithful in their life with God, and possess the courage and determination, with wisdom and intellectual clarity, to defend the truth and proclaim it no matter the cost. Just as there is found a Judas in every generation, so also in every generation does God provide a John, or a Paul, or a Peter, or an Athanasius. 

Summation

In the fourth century, Arius and his colleagues proffered a teaching, concerning the Trinity, which claimed legitimacy as the authentic doctrine of the Church. But in the lead-up to and proceedings of Nicaea, “the doom of Arianism was uttered, and in the six decades which followed,” its falsity was confirmed.[103] “Every possible alternative formula of belief as to the Person of Christ was forced upon the mind of the early Church, was fully tried, and was found wanting. Arianism above all was fully tried and above all found lacking. The Nicene formula alone has been found to render possible the life, to satisfy the instincts of the Church of Christ.”[104]

“The Nicene definition and the work of Athanasius which followed were a summons back to the simple first principles of the Gospel and the Rule of Faith. What then is their value to ourselves? Above all, this, that they have preserved to us what Arianism would have destroyed, that assurance of Knowledge of, and Reconciliation to, God in Christ of which the divinity of the Saviour is the indispensable condition; if we are now Christians in the sense of St. Paul we owe it under God to the work of the great synod.”[105]

Thanks be to God. 

—

[1] Jerome, Dialogue with the Luciferians 19

[2] Ibid.

[3] See Epiphanius, Against Heresies 69.1

[4] See Epiphanius, Against Heresies 69.3

[5] Ibid.

[6] Rowan Williams, Arius: Heresy and Tradition, 32

[7] Modern Assiut.

[8] See Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 1.15.

[9] See Ibid.

[10] See Acts of Peter of Alexandria 9

[11] For an overview of the scholarly opposition to this tradition, see Williams, 32-41, but especially 36-41. 

[12] See Sozomen 1.15, 33.1; Rufinus, Ecclesiastical History 1.1; Acts of Peter of Alexandria 22 (positing that this was due to Achillas being deceived and having compassion on Arius).

[13] See Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 1.2, 6.14-18 and Philostorgius, Ecclesiastical History 1.3, 6.8-10; While this curious possibility is founded in part upon the history of Philostorgius, a known Arian and unreliable historian, it is recorded also by Theodoret of Cyrus — a Nestorian historian and theologian of the fifth century whose import lies in his opposition to Saint Cyril of Alexandria in the Nestorian Controversy — and cannot be dismissed offhand, especially as Arius’ immense popularity and popular significance in Alexandria in the years shortly after 313 render it not impossible that he would have been considered for that post even despite Pope Peter’s exhortations and warnings.

[14] See Epiphanius, Against Heresies 69.1, 69.2

[15] See Epiphanius, Against Heresies 69.3

[16] See Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.5

[17] See Epiphanius, Against Heresies 68.4.1, who notes that it was Meletius himself who reported him.

[18] See Constantine, Letter to Alexander and Arius 6

[19] Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.5

[20] Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 1.15

[21] While, as we set forth in the second paper of our series, Collothus would soon be rehabilitated, some of those he ordained caused significant issues thereafter.

[22] Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 1.15

[23] Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.6

[24] Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, Athanasius: Select Works and Letters (Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers II.IV), xvi

[25] See Ibid.

[26] Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 1.15

[27] See Henry Wace, A Dictionary of Christian Biography and Literature to the End of the Sixth Century A.D., with an Account of the Principal Sects and Heresies, 76; See Constantine, Letter to Arius 15 (stating: “Discard then this silly transgression of the law, you witty and sweet-voiced fellow, singing evil songs for the unbelief of senseless persons”).

[28] Arius, Letter to Eusebius of Nicomedia

[29] See Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 1.15

[30] See John Henry Newman, The Arians of the Fourth Century, 245

[31] See Eusebius of Caesarea, The Life of Constantine 4

[32] Schaff and Wace, xvi; see also Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 1.15; Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.6

[33] Arius, Letter to Bishop Alexander of Alexandria

[34] Constantine, Letter to Alexander and Arius 4

[35] Although it did restore Collothus to communion and remedy his schism to some extent.

[36] See Everett Ferguson, Encyclopedia of Early Christianity (Second Ed.), 810

[37] Schaff and Wace, xvii

[38] See Newman, 257

[39] See Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.8

[40] See Philostorgius, Ecclesiastical History 2.15

[41] See Schaff and Wace, xvii

[42] Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.8

[43] Ibid.

[44] Ibid.

[45] See Ibid.

[46] Schaff and Wace, xviii

[47] Ibid.

[48] Ibid.

[49] Ibid.

[50] Ibid.

[51] Ibid.

[52] Ibid.

[53] Schaff and Wace, xix.

[54] 1 Corinthians 11:7

[55] Schaff and Wace, xix

[56] Ibid.

[57] Schaff and Wace, xvii

[58] Schaff and Wace, xix

[59] Ibid.

[60] “The objections felt to the word [homoousios] at the council were (1) philosophical, based on the identification of [ousia] with either [eîdos] (i.e. as implying a ‘formal essence’ prior to Father and Son alike) or [hylē]; (2) dogmatic, based on the identification of [ousia] with [tode ti], and on the consequent Sabellian sense of the [homoousion]; (3) Scriptural, based on the non-occurrence of the word in the Bible; (4) Ecclesiastical, based on the condemnation of the word by the Synod which deposed Paul at Antioch in 269.” (Schaff and Wace, xxxi).

[61] Schaff and Wace, xx

[62] Ibid.

[63] Ibid.

[64] Schaff and Wace, xxi

[65] Jerome, Dialogue with the Luciferians 19

[66] In the interest of brevity, we shall generally cite portions of certain relevant texts here, to which the reader may refer in considering the historical information set forth in this and all subsequent sections. Here, see Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 1.15-2.3; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 2.17-3.2; Schaff and Wace, xxi, xxxvii-xli.

[67] Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 2.17

[68] The Bohairic Life of Pachomius 28; see also Schaff and Wace, xxxvii

[69] See Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 2.30; cf. Athanasius, Letter to the Bishops of Egypt and Libya 18, 19; cf. Athanasius, Letter to Serapion, which treats of the death of Arius. His death is potentially attributable to a massive lower gastrointestinal hemorrhage secondary to a colon cancer or other colonic pathology, which may perhaps explain his wasted and lifeless appearance as documented by Constantine in his correspondence to him (see Constantine, Letter to Arius 35).

[70] See Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 2.4-25; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 3.3-22; Schaff and Wace, xlii-xlviii

[71] See Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 2:26-3.4; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 3.23-5.7; Schaff and Wace xlviii-lviii

[72] Schaff and Wace, xlviii

[73] This practice in fact commenced with Athanasius, for the purpose of combatting the Arians by empowering the most theologically trained believers of his day, who were predominantly from among the monks, with the influence and power of the episcopacy, and had not been the Church’s system prior to him.

[74] There were many bishops who were Orthodox substantially, but rejected the Nicene formula: this was the case in the East generally (e.g. Cyril of Jerusalem), “except where the bishops were positively Arian” (see Schaff and Wace, xlix).

[75] Hosius ultimately denounced the Arian heresy thereafter, shortly before his death, and it is clear that he only signed under torture.

[76] See Acts 5:38

[77] See Arius, Thalia 6, 16: “He [the Son] has none of the distinct characteristics of God’s own being For he is not equal to, nor is he of the same being as him…The Father in his essence is foreign to the Son…”

[78] Athanasius, Tome to the Antiochians 3

[79] Thmuis is most likely a village in modern Sharqiyya, near Zagazig.

[80] See Athanasius, Life of Antony 91

[81] Jerome, Dialogue with the Luciferians 20

[82] See Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 3.5-4.20; Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 5.8-6.19; Schaff and Wace, lviii-lxiii

[83] Sozomen, Ecclesiastical History 5.14

[84] Theodoret, Ecclesiastical History 3.9; Socrates, Ecclesiastical History 3.14

[85] Al-Ashmunein, in modern Minya, near modern Mallawi.

[86] Isaiah 55:8 (LXX)

[87] See The Bohairic Life of Pachomius 200-204

[88] Psalm 137:5a

[89] On the other side of the Nile, opposite modern Mallawi.

[90] Where Pachomius had founded his first monastic community, five kilometers east of modern Nag Hammadi.

[91] See Socrates 4.21-5.8; Sozomen 6.20-7.7

[92] Luke 23:34

[93] Romans 1:22

[94] Schaff and Wace, xxx

[95] Antony the Great, Letter 4

[96] Psalm 146:3

[97] Schaff and Wace, xlii

[98] See Ibid.

[99] See Psalm 131:1

[100] Gregory of Nyssa, Concerning the Divinity of the Son and the Holy Spirit and in Abraham, in Andrew Radde-Gallwitz, Gregory of Nyssa’s Doctrinal Works: A Literary Study (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 221.

[101] Gregory of Nazianzus, Oration 27.3

[102] Acts 14:17

[103] Schaff and Wace, xxx

[104] Ibid.

[105] Schaff and Wace, xxxiii

—