A Short History of Christian Doctrine

A saying of Justin Martyr indicates what lack of clarity there was with regard to the development of the doctrine of the Trinity as late as the middle of the second century. In his Apology Justin seeks to weaken the pagan reproach that Christians are atheists. He admits that Christians indeed reject the false pagan gods, but, he goes on to say, they do not deny the true God, who is the Father of justice and chastity and of all the other virtues, and who will have nothing to do with that which is evil. He then says, "Both him and the son who came forth from him and taught us these things, and the host of other good angels who follow and are made like to Him, and the prophetic Spirit, we worship and adore, because we honor [him] in reason and truth." ^[3] As if it were not enough that in this enumeration angels are mentioned as beings which are honored and worshiped by Christians, Justin does not hesitate to mention angels before naming the Holy Spirit. The sequence in which the beings that are worshiped are mentioned (God the Father, Christ, the angels, the Spirit) is noteworthy. Yet we would be doing Justin an injustice if we were to put him on the same plane as the Gnostics such as Valentinus.

Only toward the end of the second century was greater clarity introduced into the doctrine of God. Of importance here was, first of all, Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons. In his doctrine of God two basic features are evident. First, he spoke of God’s inner being, and, second, of his progressive self-disclosure in the history of salvation [Heilsgeschichte]. Sometimes Irenaeus emphasizes the unity of God so strongly that he does not shrink from using expressions which sound modalistic, as if Son and Spirit were only appearances of the one God. In his Proof of the Apostolic Preaching he says, "Thus God is shown to be one according to the essence of His being and power" even though "as the administrator of the economy of our redemption, He is both Father and Son. .. ." ^[4] In this way Irenaeus hoped to avoid every pluralistic expression with reference to God. He knew, of course, how to differentiate between God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Irenaeus was of the same opinion as the apologists of the ancient church, especially Theophilus of Antioch, when he taught that God had with him from all eternity his Word and his Wisdom. These were, so to speak, hypostases. God brought them forth from himself before the creation of the world. The Son was begotten of the Father before time. To every further speculation, which tries to enter into the mystery of the begetting of the Son, Irenaeus objects.

In this way Irenaeus developed the basic features of a doctrine of the Trinity. It is, in fact, the most fully developed doctrine of the Trinity during the first and second centuries. Its characteristic feature is that it does not begin with three co-eternal persons, as does the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity in the fourth century, but with the person of the Father who has with and beside himself his Word and his Wisdom. To employ the terminology of a later period, it is not possible to speak of three co-eternal persons in Irenaeus’ doctrine of God. Nor should it be expected that the rank of the Son or that of the Spirit would be clearly expressed. The development of the doctrine of the divine persons took place in Irenaeus only from the point of view of the history of salvation.

Tertullian, who lived in Carthage and was the first theologian of the church to write in Latin, expressed himself similarly on the doctrine of God. He, too, began with the person of God the Father, who has with him Word and Spirit, and who brings these forth out of himself for the purpose of the creation of the world. Yet Tertullian’s work proved to be of great significance for the later development of the doctrine of the Trinity, thanks to his coining of precise formulas giving expression to the unity of God as well as to the threeness of the persons. It was his intention to hold to the one substance in three related persons. ^[5] Three persons exist, he said, in the one substance, and still there is only one God. For the history of salvation, however, there is a threefold differentiation of the unity. God’s oikonomia, his Heilsgeschichte, requires three persons. In a statement formulated with acute precision Tertullian says that they are differentiated non statu sed gradu, nec substantia sed forma, nec potestate sed specie ("not in condition, but in degree; not in substance, but in form; not in power, but in aspect"). ^[6] The three are thus one, though not one person. Tertullian thus pithily summed up older thinking concerning the doctrine of God and he rejected, at the same time, the heresies of Monarchianism and Gnosticism. Thus the basic elements of the doctrine of the identity of substance with reference to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are already present in Tertullian, even though, on the other hand, he strictly subordinates the Son to the Father and at times uses rather unfortunate images, such as his likening of Father, Son, and Spirit to root, branch, and fruit.

Origen (d. 254) went much further than Irenaeus and Tertullian. This acute thinker, who had already engaged in textual criticism of the biblical writings and from whose pen we have the first Christian dogmatics, also made an important contribution to the doctrine of God. This is true even though it must be admitted that his doctrine of the Trinity contains many problems which helped to bring about the beginning of the Arian controversy.

Origen’s doctrine of the Trinity is marked by two basic features. First, like Irenaeus and Tertullian, he puts great emphasis on the unity of God. Yet he does not set it forth very clearly. The reason is that in addition to his emphasis on the unity of God he lays stress upon the differences between the persons. In doing so he goes beyond his predecessors. Strictly speaking, only the Father is God, though the name "God" may also be applied to the Son and to the Holy Spirit. The divinity of the Son and of the Spirit is derived from the Father. God brings forth the Son in an eternal act. As the Son is subordinated to the Father, even so the Spirit is subordinated to the Son. For the three persons of the Godhead, Origen uses the concept of hypostasis, by which he means an individual essence, or individual subsistence. Thus Son and Spirit are other than the Father with regard to their hypostasis. At the same time, however, he holds that all three persons are one in the sense that they possess a unity and harmony of will. For this kind of unity Origen already used the concept of homoousios ("oneness of being," or in the common liturgical rendering, "of one substance"), which later was given dogmatic status at Nicaea (325), even though he held to the numerical difference between Father and Son. There can be no doubt, however, that although Origen always held to the unity of the three persons, and was thus the first to develop an actual doctrine of the Trinity, he was not so successful in making clear the unity of the three divine persons as he was in defining their differences. Here the tensions in his doctrine of God become evident. It was possible, for instance, for Origen to say that the Son was a creature of the Father, thus strictly subordinating the Son to the Father, while at the same time he insisted upon a unity of substance with regard to Father and Son. The problematical nature of his doctrine of the Trinity is especially evident in the fact that, contrary to both the New Testament and tradition, Origen rejected prayer to the exalted Lord. Only prayer to God the Father is permitted, he insisted, although such prayer has to be made through the Son and the Spirit.’

Of no less importance is the second feature of Origen’s doctrine of God. He was of the opinion that, since God the Father is perfect in goodness and power, he must always have had objects toward which he exercised this goodness and power. On the basis of this presupposition Origen taught the doctrine, reminiscent of certain gnostic systems, that before the creation of the cosmos God called into being a world of spiritual beings which are co-eternal with him. The world of history, he asserted, God created only when these spiritual beings fell away from him, Furthermore, said Origen, these eternal beings were subordinated to God the Father from the beginning. Hence a mediator between God’s absolute oneness and this multiplicity of beings was necessary. This mediator is the Son. Origen’s teaching concerning the eternal generation of the Son, ie, a generation which is not yet a completed act, must be seen against the background of this concept of an eternal creation. It has thus an entirely different foundation from that of a similar idea found in the later theology of the Trinity, for which the eternal generation of the Son was founded upon the notion that in eternity there is no past and no future but only an eternal now (Augustine). It is immediately apparent that this second feature of Origen’s doctrine of the Trinity is considerably more problematical than the first. The assumption of an eternal creation directly contradicted the church’s doctrine, as well as the statements of Scripture. Through its controversy with the various gnostic systems, the church had become fully aware of the fact that the doctrine concerning an eternal creation could not be brought into harmony with the Bible and the Christian faith. As a result, Origen’s notion of the eternal generation of the Son as well as his conception of the unity of the Son with the Father had to stand or fall with his insistence upon an eternal creation.

During the decades between the death of Origen and the beginning of the Arian controversy, it became clear that the Origenistic doctrine of the Trinity had to be refined in one way or another. Most theologians rejected the eternity of creation. This made it necessary, however, either to emphasize the strict subordination of the Son to the Father, or to go beyond Origen in strongly asserting the oneness in substance of the different hypostases. All subsequent theology, however, whether it stands to the "left" or to the "right" of Origen, owes to him that which is really decisive. For only through him, and since his time, has the task of actually developing a doctrine of the Trinity which progresses beyond the older theologians’ "economic" Trinity and toward an "immanent" Trinity been recognized, that is to say, a doctrine of the Trinity which sees in the successive revelation of the persons of the divine Trinity at the same time a reference to God’s eternal being. Furthermore, as will be pointed out below, only through Origen did the Logos Christology gain universal acceptance. Thus all later generations have learned from Origen, even when they did not share his onesided emphasis.

Arius (d. 336), too, had learned some things from Origen. The intellectual world out of which Arius came, the school of Lucian of Antioch, took over much from Origen. But if it is true anywhere, it is true here, that the same things said by two different people are not the same. Arius, more than Lucian, changed and restructured the Origenistic theology. In this endeavor he permitted himself to be guided by certain distinct motives which, in their Arian form, were not present in Origen.

Arius’ prime concern was to emphasize the uniqueness and transcendence of God. This must be kept clearly in mind if we are to avoid passing hasty judgments that would keep us from understanding a man like Arius. A confession of faith by Arius says, "We confess one God who alone is unbegotten, alone eternal, alone without beginning, alone true, alone immortal, alone wise, alone good, alone Lord, alone the judge of all." By "God" Arius always means God the Father only. Because His being is absolutely transcendent and absolutely immutable it cannot be communicated to anyone else. Hence, everything that exists besides this transcendent God must have been created, and that means that it must have come out of nothing. Arius resolutely rejects the thought that the Son came forth from the Father. He felt that such thought-forms apply physical categories to God. More than that, such a concept would make of God a "composite," which is impossible.

What, then, does Arius say about Jesus Christ? It is true that Arius, like the apologists Irenaeus and Tertullian before him, held that God has with him from eternity his Word and his Wisdom. But for Arius these two simply coincide with the being of God and have nothing to do with the second and third persons of the Trinity. The Word, on the other hand, which in Jesus Christ became flesh, is a creature of God, created by him out of nothing before the beginning of time. Not that Arius puts the Son on the same plane with other creatures. According to him the Son is a perfect creature, but he is not a creature in the sense in which other creatures are. In referring to the Son as a creature, says Arius, one should not speak of a generation of the Son, since this would bring him too close to the Father. Only in a derivative sense should the word "generation" ever be used. Under no circumstances may any unity of substance between Father and Son be asserted. This is for Arius the worst heresy. What must be said instead is that God was not always Father, but that there was a time when he was alone and was not yet Father. Only later did he become Father. Immutability may not be asserted of the Son as it can of the Father. The Son may be called God, to be sure, but his divinity is not an attribute of his being. It is something bestowed upon him by God’s grace.

Arius, too, recognized the necessity of taking over the Origenistic concept of hypostasis. He even talked, and seemingly much like Origen, of three hypostases, ie., of the three persons --the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Thus Arius also assumed a supreme Triad, which means that he did not deny or attempt to conceal the distinctiveness of the Son and of the Holy Spirit as did Monarchianism. So Arius, too, was not able to hold himself aloof from the general trend which the doctrine of God had taken since the second century.

Yet even though one may appreciate the concern of Arius and would like to give credence to some of his ideas, it is difficult not to regard his outline of the doctrine of God as highly dangerous. In the last analysis Arius ends up with many unresolved problems, which are really much greater than those which he had set out to solve. He wanted to hold on to the uniqueness of God, and it seemed he had succeeded in doing so. In reality, however, he made out of Christ a kind of demigod, who was neither quite man nor quite God. A similar observation may be made about his understanding of the Holy Spirit, although it should be remembered, of course, that the doctrine of the Holy Spirit was not yet debated in his day. While it was still possible for Origen to unite in his thought the three hypostases which he taught, in Arius they became three divinities differentiated from one another in terms of gradations. In Arius’ doctrine of God, therefore, that which had long been present in theology as a latent danger, namely, the strict subordination of the Son to the Father, was now openly expressed. At an earlier period, as a result of the appropriation of certain ideas from Jewish apocalyptic, a so-called angel Christology had actually been developed in which Jesus Christ appeared as an especially exalted angelic being. Prior to Arius this notion had been held in rather naive form, since no one had yet thought it through to the end. In Arius’ doctrine of God, however, which drew upon philosophical concepts and ideas and was more fully ‘Aleveloped than earlier notions of a similar cast, the peril of a subordinationist Christology appeared. The dangerous consequence of the Arian doctrine is found in the assertion that Christ, since he is not God, cannot truly know the Father. Hence not even revelation can give a full knowledge of God. This inadequate doctrine of God, therefore, leads necessarily to an entirely inadequate doctrine of revelation.

If one desires to adhere to the uniqueness of God, as well as to the validity of the revelation of God in Jesus Christ, the path Arius took is certainly not the one to follow. It leads to a new form of polytheism. It is praiseworthy that Arius did not seek to preserve the unity of God at the cost of revelation. Yet to follow the path he took means either that one must deny the revelation of God in Jesus Christ or that one must assume there is more than one God. One thing Arius did accomplish, however. With an urgency that could not be ignored, he posed the question for the church whether, according to its faith, Jesus Christ is a creature standing on a level far beneath God or whether he is God himself. This is the basic question in the Arian controversy.

Arius was pastor of the Church of St. Baucalis in Alexandria. Alexandria had long been the center not only of intellectual life in general, but also of theology. Here Origen, the most famous Greek theologian of the ancient church, had long been active. Thus the opinions of Arius, having been expressed in this city, were bound to attract attention. At first it seemed that perhaps no controversy would arise. Arius’ bishop, Alexander of Alexandria, was a peace-loving man who, as far as he himself was concerned, would have preferred to avoid an argument. But things had progressed too far for that. Behind Arius stood many people in all parts of the Greek East who shared his opinions.

When in the year 324 Constantine the Great, after his victory over Licinius, had become ruler also of the eastern part of the Roman Empire, he found the Eastern church embroiled in bitter controversy. The first emperor to become a Christian, Constantine had basically no understanding whatsoever of the questions that were being asked in Greek theology. In the controversy over the doctrine of the Trinity he saw nothing more than unnecessary bickering of theologians, which might best be avoided by eschewing all speculation and by living together in love and harmony. At the same time Constantine was concerned about keeping or restoring ecclesiastical peace. After all, the church had an important service to perform in his empire. It was to rid the people of the immoralities which had made broad inroads among them and to guide men into law and order; it was to be concerned about the extension of the pure worship of God; and above all else, it was to ask and to obtain God’s blessing for the emperor and his realm by discharging responsibly its tasks as a church. The emperor therefore stepped into the controversy and extended invitations for a great council to be held at Nicaea (325), the imperial residence not far from the sea of Marmara in Asia Minor.

In order to follow the course of the discussions at the Council of Nicaea, it is necessary to keep in mind the entirely new situation in which the church found itself at this point in its history. After having been persecuted for three hundred years, with only an occasional brief respite, the church was now confronted with an emperor who professed the Christian faith. To add to the novelty, Constantine’s conversion had come on the heels of the Diocletian persecution, which had been the most ruthless the ancient church had ever known. For the first time in its history Christianity in the Roman Empire was no longer the persecuted religion; now officially tolerated and recognized, in some respects it was even fostered by the empire. From a purely external point of view the change in the situation was evident to the bishops in the fact that they no longer needed to move about secretly nor did they have to use the normal means of travel to visit one another. They now had the privilege of coming to the council by means of transportation provided by the state, ie., means which were intended for use by ranking state officials. At Nicaea the emperor provided lodging for the bishops in his palace. It was there, too, that the discussions took place, and in the presence of the emperor at that. The changed situation could not have been brought home more forcefully. It is understandable if the bishops showed their gratitude by generous efforts to oblige the emperor.

In the course of the long discussions which now took place at Nicaea the empéror intervened personally several times. Even though he had a general antipathy to the controversies, and even though he himself had only a rudimentary "theology," he was still not entirely without sympathy for the problems which arose. In any case, he permitted himself to be more fully instructed about many things by his episcopal counselors. The decisive catchword of the Nicene confession, namely, homoousios ("of one substance"), comes from no less a person than the emperor himself. To the present day no one has cleared up the problem of where the emperor got the term. It seems likely that it was suggested to him by his episcopal counselor, Bishop Hosius (Ossius) of Cordova, and it was probably nothing more than a Greek translation of a term already found in Tertullian, who used it to express the idea that Father and Son are of one substance.

‘At the council a solemn confession of faith was formulated, which embodied the results of the discussions. The basis of it was a confession which came from the area of Syria-Palestine, and which probably stems from Jerusalem. This confession of Nicaea must not be confused with the confession which in today’s services of worship is often called the Nicene Creed. Actually the latter should be referred to as the Niceno-Constanti nopolitan Creed (381). The Nicene confession of 325 reads as follows:

Immediately upon this confession follow the anathemas upon heretical opinions. They read as follows:

Most of the bishops who were present at the council signed this creed. Among the signers were those who, judging by their theological presuppositions, could not do so, or could hardly do so, such as Eusebius of Caesarea. What seemed especially objectionable to many bishops and theologians of the East was the concept put into the creed by Constantine himself, the homoousios, which in the subsequent strife between orthodoxy and heresy became the object of dissension. Even most of the Arians put their names to the creed. Only Arius and two of his friends refused to sign, for which they were excommunicated.

What was the exact meaning of this creed which had been signed by theologians of such divergent opinions and which, strangely enough, at first served as a formula of concord, only to generate ever new controversy later? It is not easy to ascertain the original meaning of the confession of Nicaea. The reason for this difficulty is not to be found in the paucity of sources, although it is true that the records of the individual discussions at the council are no more available. The real reason it is not so easy to establish the original meaning of the Nicene decision lies in the fact that the church could not stop with this decision, but was virtually forced to move toward further clarifications of its doctrine of God. As a result the decision of Nicaea was given a progressively new and deeper meaning. This later interpretation of the Nicene confession is therefore not necessarily inconsistent with its original meaning. Quite to the contrary, this interpretation probably sets forth the import of the Nicene decision more profoundly and better than did the council fathers themselves. It becomes apparent here that the history of doctrine is not concerned merely with the historical origins of a series of doctrinal propositions, but with confessions which constantly need to be adapted and interpreted.

This much is certain, of course, that the Nicene confession was meant to reject the teaching of Arius, and did reject it. With great emphasis the council insisted that the Son is not created, but begotten. This concept of "begetting" is meant to exclude the idea that the Son was called into being out of nothing, as well as the idea that there was a time when God the Father was alone, i.e., was not yet the Father. In this way the immutability and eternity of God are attested. The rejection of Arianism meant, however, that this immutability and eternity of God is also asserted of the Logos, i.e., the second person of the Trinity.

What, then, is the positive sense of the Nicene confession? In order to ascertain this the affirmations that the Son is "from the substance of the Father" and that he is "of one substance with the Father" must be kept in mind. The first of these two formulations certainly seems to say that the Logos is in a true sense the Son of the Father, in other words, that we are dealing here with a "metaphysical" sonship. This first formulation emphasizes, then, that the Son has the same divine nature as the Father from whom he came forth. Every other affirmation, which dispenses with the concept of begetting, would necessarily lead to the conclusion that the Son is not only a person other than the Father, but that he is also "something other" than the Father, ite., that he is not God.

To determine the sense of the expression "of one substance with the Father" is more difficult. It is clear at the outset that this formula cannot assert anything other than what is meant by the expression "from the substance of the Father," and it is undoubtedly not meant to say anything else. The question arises, however, in what sense the unity of substance, which is emphasized, is to be understood. Are Father and Son one in the sense intended by Origen? That is, are they one as the result of the identity of substance, while they are distinct numerically, as Origen asserted during the controversy against the Monarchians? Or is the formula to be understood identity of substance?

For a long time the decision of Nicaea was understood in th second sense. We meet this interpretation already in the ancient church. There was no question but that the concept "of one substane with the Father" allows this interpretation, indeed. even demands it. In that case, "of one substance with the Father" means that the persons of the Godhead are one common divine Being. While this interpretation accords with the later orthodox understanding, it hardly expresses the original meaning of this expression: the concept homoousios was not understood in this sense at the time. For the theologians of the third century homoousios simply meant "of the same substance." There was as yet no reflection about the question of numerical identity. It would be difficult to imagine that at the synod of Nicaea the concept homoousios could suddenly and without preparation have been used in a new sense, " It is probable that with its choice of the expression "of one substance with the Father" the Council of Nicaea meant to strengthen once more its "begotten, not made" and this the divinity of the Son, The council did not attempt to solve the question of the divine unity and the distinctness of the persons. What it meant to do was to assert, against Arius and his theory, which made a demigod out of Jesus Christ, the full divinity of the Son. Yet, even if the decision of Nicaea is understood in this sense, which is narrower than the customary understanding of an earlier day, it is still of considerable importance that the proposition that Jesus Christ is God had long been held; we meet its beginnings already in the New Testament. Yet the subordinationism latent in the church which in the theology of Arius is raised to its highest point, led to a limitation of this affirmation, This subordinationist development was now warded off, and the full divinity of the Son was set forth. It is clear that as a result new problems were created a once. The two most important of these were, first, the relationships of the various divine persons to each other, and, second the relationship of the divinity of Jesus, as asserted at Nicaea, to the image of Jesus as it appears in the Gospels. These two problems were to absorb much of the church’s energy during the following period.

No less important, however, is the significance of the Nicene confession in another respect. In addition to the theological errors it rejected, the confession also represents a denial of a philosophical concept of God. It was clear that in arriving at the christological propositions he was able to formulate so acutely, Arius had permitted himself to be influenced by certain philosophical presuppositions. Of course, the Christian church cannot escape the necessity of expressing its faith in a language that is clear and conceptually articulate. For that reason it has never been able to dispense with the use of philosophical concepts. It must be remembered, however, that the use of such concepts in theology is not the same as in philosophy. Luther once said that if philosophical concepts are to be used in theology they must, so to speak, be taken "to the bath" i.e., they must be baptized. ^[8] At Nicaea, at any rate, the church did not attempt to penetrate the mystery of God or to describe it as did Arius, from the point of view of the philosophical concept of transcendence. It is true that in return the church had to accept the fact that its confession contains a paradox. Yet is this not the paradox which consists in the Word’s being made flesh?

The Council of Nicaea did not end the Arian controversy. Indeed, it is with Nicaea that the controversy began in earnest To be sure, most of the bishops who were present at Nicaea signed the creed. But there were widespread differences among the signers in the way the creed was understood. Constantine was content to have the creed signed, leaving its interpretation largely to the individual. Behind the scenes, however, there now began a violent political struggle within the church. The Arians who for the moment had been forced into retreat, continued to have many followers. They took steps to fill as many vacant episcopal sees as possible with members of their own party. But the orthodox were also not idle, especially Athanasius, who had become bishop of Alexandria in 328 and was to live until 373. The power struggle was fierce, with both sides using means that were often regrettable and with the actual differences of opinion magnified by rather far-reaching misunderstandings of the opponents’ position. Not all who rejected the Nicene confession were true Arians. On the basis of Origenistic theology, however, they were dissatisfied with the creed. It seemed to them that at Nicaea the divine persons had not been sufficiently differentiated. In their opinion Nicaea aided modalistic Monarchianism. The members of the Nicene party, on the other hand, did not always do justice to their opponents either. In the fifth century the church historian Socrates (d. ca. 450) was already comparing the Arian controversy with a battle fought in the dark, with the combatants unable to distinguish friend from foe. ^[9] Yet these often regrettable by-products should not lead one to disregard the actual substance of the discussions.

Among the many persons who over the decades were involved in the controversy, especially in the eastern part of the Roman Empire, a few stand out. There is, first of all, Athanasius, and then the three so-called Cappadocians. Each in his own way, and yet in substantial agreement with one another, and with a view to the real significance of the discussion, these men held fast to the decision of Nicaea even while they were developing it further in a very definite way. They realized, as few others did, that Nicaea, with its condemnation of Arianism, did not merely represent a climax in the development of the church’s doctrine, but that it also imposed new tasks.

Athanasius has always been regarded as the real champion of Nicaea. He fought for the homoousios as no one else did, yet without a narrowly conceived insistence on it. He endured no less than five banishments, some of them lasting many years, merely because he held fast to the Nicene confession. He does not belong to those theologians who independently and boldly develop a system of their own. Apparently Athanasius never pursued theology for the sake of theology. He gave himself to it only for the sake of polemic. Yet, in spite of these limitations, he was still an acute thinker. Relentlessly he continued to point to the consequences implied in the position one takes toward the problem of the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father.

For the history of the doctrine of the Trinity, Athanasius has above all a twofold significance. First, he became increasingly aware of the need to understand the homoousios of Nicaea not only as an assertion of the full deity of the Son but also in its significance for the unity of God. It was in reference to this latter point especially that Athanasius underwent a development. During his early years he had laid no particular stress upon the homoousios. In fact a certain reserve with respect to this expression can be noted in his writings. It proved to be of significance, therefore, that during his first banishment (at Treves, 335-337), as well as during his second banishment (in Rome and Aquileia, 339-346), he became acquainted with the old western doctrine of the Trinity. Since the days of Tertullian this doctrine had emphasized the unity of God, and therefore had understood the homoousios of Nicaea more in the sense of the western tradition than in that of the council fathers, who were predominantly Greek. From about 350 on, Athanasius was the determined champion not only of the Nicene orthodoxy as such, but especially of the term homoousios. While earlier in his career Athanasius had emphasized especially the divinity of the Logos, without expressing himself in detail about the unity of God the Father and God the Son, he now accentuated above all else the unity of God. The homoousios formula served this purpose splendidly. On the other hand, Athanasius had to reckon with the fact that emphasis on the homoousios meant that the differences between the persons would not appear with full clarity. It is of immediate importance, however, that homoousios is henceforth given a new meaning, in that it is made to refer to the unity of God. Consequently Athanasius was now able to point out that the divinity of the Son is identical with the divinity of the Father, that, in fact, the divinity of the Son is at the same time the divinity of the Father, or that the fullness of the divinity of the Father is the being (to einai) of the Son. ^[10] In doing this Athanasius certainly did not wish to fall into the error of the Sabellians, as the Arians were charging that he did. On the contrary, he held firmly to the idea that the Father and the Son are "two." "They are one," he writes, "not — as one thing divided into two parts, and these nothing but one, nor as one thing twice named, so that the Same becomes at one time Father, at another His own Son, for this Sabellius holding was judged an heretic, But They are two, because the Father is Father and is not also Son, and the Son is Son and not also Father; but the nature is one. . . ." ^[11] What is not yet in this position is the difference between the divine persons. Here the Cappadocians were to do further work.

Athanasius was of course never concerned with mere speculation. His real interest was not in the doctrine of the Trinity as such, but in soteriology, or the doctrine of redemption. Arius’ strict subordination of the Son to the Father, the Son being a creature, meant that through Christ no full knowledge of God was mediated. Athanasius had immediately recognized this consequence of Arian theology and he never tired of pointing it out. Conversely, Athanasius always insisted most emphatically that only in holding fast to the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father is it possible to preserve faith in redemption. If Jesus Christ was only the manifestation of a created being, half-divine in nature, then there is no real redemption through Christ. In his early years Athanasius had already insisted, "It is we who were the cause of His taking human form, and for our salvation that in His great love He was both born and manifested in a human body." ^[12] Later Athanasius made this connection between the doctrine of God and the doctrine of redemption even more central in his teaching. Unless this connection is seen his struggle for the recognition of the confession of Nicaea cannot be understood.

It is precisely at this point, however, that misgivings have often been expressed. They refer not to the connection of the doctrine of God and the doctrine of redemption as such, but to Athanasius’ understanding of redemption. His doctrine of redemption is often referred to as "physical"; that is, it is said to be concerned not merely with freedom from sin and guilt but also, and above all, with the restoration and imperishability of human nature, or, in ‘other words, with the deification of man. Again and again this formula recurs in Athanasius: "He, indeed, assumed humanity that we might become God." ^[13] Later he was to write, "Mankind then is perfected in Him and restored, as it was made at the beginning, nay, with greater grace. For, on rising from the dead, we shall no longer fear death, but shall ever reign in Christ in the heavens. And this has been done, since the own Word of God Himself, who is from the Father, has put on the flesh, and become man." ^[14] On the basis of such assertions Harnack interpreted Athanasius as saying that mortality in itself was the greatest evil and the cause of all other evils, while the highest good was to live eternally.

Such accusations must be approached with caution. There can be no doubt that even though Athanasius is familiar with the idea that Christ frees us from sin and guilt, his soteriology operates primarily with the categories of mortality and immortality. Death is conquered by life. It should be noted, however, that when the New Testament itself speaks of redemption, it, too, does not limit itself to the conceptions of guilt and forgiveness, or justification, but may on occasion set death and life over against each other. This is true not only of the Johannine writings, but also of certain passages in St. Paul. In this respect the Reformation undoubtedly repeated the thoughts of the New Testament with a certain one-sidedness. In doing so, however, it simply remained true to the entire western tradition, whose thought always inclined more to "ethical" concepts than did that of the Eastern church, which from the beginning gave preference to "physical" concepts. For Athanasius, furthermore, death and life are not primarily "physical" concepts, but concepts which are always filled with content. Death is separation from God caused by guilt. It is the curse which came upon Adam and all mankind. Life, on the other hand, is full communion with God, which consists not simply in the forgiveness of guilt, but which signifies a new being whose nature is no longer transitory but eternal.

In addition to Athanasius the three so-called Cappadocians are also of great significance for the further development and right understanding of the decision of Nicaea. Actually it was they who created the intellectual and conceptual means for the full appropriation of the Nicene confession. Their labors are most closely connected with the question of the divinity of the Holy Spirit.

In the Nicene confession relatively little was said of the Holy Spirit. An assertion about faith in the Holy Spirit had been deemed sufficient. The problem concerning the divinity of the Son had been uppermost in the minds of the council fathers as a result of the teaching of Arius. To it Nicaea gave its answer, It did not seem necessary to proceed from the question of the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father to the problem of ascertaining the position of the Holy Spirit in the Godhead.

With the passage of time, however, it became increasingly evident that it was not possible to rest content with the brief affirmation of Nicaea. As the concept of homoousios necessarily led to deeper reflection on the unity of the Father and the Son, the church having been forced beyond the assertion of the di. vinity of the Son to an insistence upon the consubstantiality of the Father with the Son, so the question of the Holy Spirit was now destined to become urgent. Once the alternative between the divine and the created, which had been pointed out by Arius, was seen in its full significance, the related problem of the Spirit could not be avoided. Arius regarded the Spirit as a being which totally lacked any similarity with either the Father or the Son. Among other theologians, too, the uncertainty concerning the doctrine of the Holy Spirit was greater than the uncertainty about the homoousios of the Son. A man such as Eusebius of Caesarea subordinated the Spirit to the Father and the Son, teaching that the Spirit was the first of the creatures to be brought forth by the Son. It is true that some theologians, for instance, Cyril of Jerusalem, approximated later orthodoxy in their teaching concerning the Spirit. Even among the adherents of the confession of Nicaea there was still much uncertainty about the question of what position the Spirit occupies in the Trinity. The divinity of the Holy Spirit was especially rejected by the so-called Pneumatomachians, who gathered about Macedonius, Bishop of Constantinople (342-360).

Only at a rather late date did Athanasius have something to say in his various letters to Serapion (359 or 360) concerning the position of the Holy Spirit. In doing so he emphasizes that according to the unambiguous testimony of Scripture the Holy Spirit is not of a creaturely nature but belongs to God and is one with the Godhead, namely, the Trinity. The Spirit comes from God. He bestows sanctification and, indeed, life itself. The Spirit is immutable, omnipresent, and one, while the creatures are mutable, dependent upon time and space, and many. Through the Spirit we partake of God. On the other hand, it is not true that the Spirit partakes of others. He only communicates himself. Thus Athanasius concludes that, without doubt, the Spirit, too, is God, and that of him, too, consubstantiality must be asserted. Athanasius emphasizes especially the connection between the Spirit and the Son. As it is necessary to gain the knowledge of the Spirit through the Son, so the Spirit is inseparable from the Son. He is the Spirit of the Son, sent by the Son. Everything that belongs to the Spirit belongs also to the Son, as is evident in John 16:13-14. Thus Athanasius developed a complete theology of the Trinity, in which, however, an appropriate concept for that which we call "person" was missing.It was the Cappadocians who led the way to greater clarity on this point.

The term "the three Cappadocians" refers to Basil the Great (d. 379), Bishop of Caesarea and Metropolitan of Cappadocia; Gregory of Nyssa (d. 394), a younger brother of Basil; and Gregory of Nazianzus (d. ca, 390). They all came from old, cultured families. They had steeped themselves in ancient classical literature as well as in the church fathers. All three were bishops and had promoted the ecclesiastical life of their dioceses in many ways. Above all else, however, they made an extraordinary contribution as theologians. Without their intellectual labor the Arian controversy would hardly have ended in the manner in which it did.

With reference to their intellectual and theological peculiarities the Cappadocians differ basically from Athanasius. They were not so concerned about ecclesiastical politics as he. Instead they took their cue from Origen. Yet they had moved toward the confession of Nicaea, affirming fully and completely the decision of 325. At the same time they attempted to pursue further the solution of the problems.

Among the Cappadocians the heritage of Origen is evident: in their doctrine of God they proceed less from the unity of the divine Being than they do from the three persons which, they felt, must be differentiated from one another. Even so, they emphasized the homoousios of the Son as well as that of the Holy Spirit. Above all else, however, they developed a precise terminology, in order to differentiate between the being of God in general and the individual persons. While the terms ousia (essence, substance) and hypostasis (essentiality, nature) were used indiscriminately by the older Nicaeans, the younger Nicaeans used the first concept for the common substance and the second for the concrete expression, or personal existence. From now on ousia becomes the technical expression for the Godhead as such, while hypostasis now no longer means "nature" but "person." Thus ousia refer¢ to the common substance of God, and hypostasis to the special forms which this divine substance assumes in the person of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. This precise differentiation between concepts helped greatly to clarify the doctrine of God.

Furthermore, the Cappadocians set forth much more sharply the peculiarity of the persons of the Trinity than had been the case previously. In this endeavor it was natural to begin with the three names which were given to the persons of the Trinity. Basil did this, and accordingly ascribed to the Father "fatherhood," to the Son "sonship," and to the Holy Spirit "sanctifying power" or "sanctification." Or again the differences could be pointed out by saying that the Father is "unbegotten," the Son is "begotten," and the Holy Spirit "proceeds." As a result of such careful differentiation, and as a result of the definition of ousia and hypostasis, the three Cappadocians actually made possible a true doctrine of the Trinity, a doctrine, namely, which maintains both the unity and the difference of the persons. It should also be remembered that at about the time when these men were developing their doctrine Athanasius declared as orthodox the interpretation of homoousios (of the same substance) in the sense of homoiousios (similar in substance). Since, as has been mentioned, homoousios had meanwhile been interpreted in the sense of a numerical unity of the Father with the Son, it could also be misunderstood in a Sabellian sense. The term homoiousios was appropriate for removing this misunderstanding.

The stage had now been set for the conclusion of the long trinitarian controversy. On the eve of the Council of Constantinople (381), which was convoked to put an end to the long arguments, Gregory of Nazianzus declared in a speech that it was the destiny of his time to bring to full clarity the mystery which in the New Testament was only dimly intimated. That was a daring pronouncement, but it outlined the theological task which had been given to that day.

At the council of 381 the definitions of the Nicene confession were largely taken over, though at a few places changes were made. These had to do especially with the third article, which was greatly enlarged in order to witness also to the divinity of the Holy Spirit. Because the resulting creed is not historically attested until 451, attempts have been made in the past to assign to this creed a place of historical origin other than the council of 381, the Second Ecumenical Council. These attempts, however, may be regarded as having been proved to be untenable. ^[15] The Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, as this creed is called, is worded as follows:

In this creed a specific assertion of the consubstantiality of the Spirit with the Father and the Son is missing. Yet, in essence it is there. For one thing, the Spirit is also called "Lord." Furthermore, it is emphasized that, together with the Father and the Son, the Spirit, too, is worshiped and glorified as the giver of life. Again, in the year 382 a new synod at Constantinople specifically affirmed the consubstantiality and the full divinity of the Holy Spirit, as well as his existence as a separate hypostasis. In this document, which is addressed to the bishops of the West who could not be present, the one Godhead of the three divine persons is set forth. Based upon the theology of the Cappadocians it says: "According to this faith there is one Godhead, Power and Substance of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost; the dignity being equal, and the majesty being equal in three perfect essences [hypostascis] and three perfect persons." ^[17]

With the decision of Constantinople a specific problem of the Christian faith was settled for the first time in the history of the church in an authoritative and final way. While it is possible to see in the creation of the New Testament canon, as well as in the rule of faith, an initial dogma of the church, it must be admitted that the decrees of Nicaea and Constantinople differ from these in the sense that the major concern here is a specific article of the faith, namely, the doctrine of God. Does this imply, as has been so often asserted, a falling away of the church from the Christianity of the New Testament? If the development of the doctrine of the Trinity from its beginnings to the end of the fourth century is seen in its totality, it becomes difficult to make such an accusation. In fact, it is more correct to insist upon the opposite, namely, that by means of this dogma the church erected a barrier against the onslaught of the tidal wave of Hellenism, which threatened to inundate the Christian faith. If the word homoousios is taken in its original sense, which has been set forth by recent research, it must be said that in 325 the church confessed its faith in the divinity of Christ, and it did so exclusively in an attempt to reject the Arian heresy. Basil said at one time with reference to the term homoousios that, because of the errors of the Arians, it became necessary to choose a clear word, since Arius redefined the words of Scripture to suit his own purposes. Neither at Nicaea nor at Constantinople was the attempt made to plumb the depth of the divine mystery or to define God’s essence. The intention was, rather, to indicate that God himself encounters us in Jesus Christ, and that in the Holy Spirit God himself is present within his church.

If the council fathers had really been trying to fathom the depth of God’s essence with their creed, it would mean, in effect, that every interpretation of their decision is superfluous. In that case it should be possible to see in the Nicene confession and in the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed the kind of clarification of the doctrine of the Trinity which would eliminate all further investigation of this segment of Christian doctrine. Neither the council fathers themselves, however, nor later theologians understood the dogma of the Trinity in this fashion. Quite to the contrary, as the declaration of consubstantiality in 325 led, of necessity, to a further deepening of the doctrine of God, so, too, the creed of 381 did not put an end to work on the doctrine of the Trinity. In fact, only after 381 was the necessity felt for a more profound interpretation. This may be shown by citing the example of Augustine.

When the council fathers assembled in 381 Augustine was not yet a Christian. His Damascus hour did not come until 386, From 395 on he was bishop of the little, insignificant North African coastal city of Hippo Regius which today is called Bone. The work of this man, who is, no doubt, the most important Latin church father, covered a great variety of very different areas. He advanced the theological study of the doctrine of sin and grace as well as that of the doctrine of the church, the latter a very controversial issue in the Africa of his day. His teaching in reference to the sacraments set forth the presuppositions for the total subsequent development of this doctrine in the Middle Ages as well as at the time of the Reformation. In The City of God he developed, on the basis of the Christian faith, one of the most profound interpretations of history ever offered. It is not surprising, therefore, that Augustine also devoted attention to the doctrine of the Trinity, especially in the fifteen books of his great work On the Trinity, on which he worked, with interruptions, from 399 to 419. It is the greatest work which was written about the Trinity in the ancient church.

In summarizing the basic thoughts of this work it must be noted, first, that Augustine emphasized above all else the unity of God. He saw clearly that the formula of the Cappadocians concerning the one substance and the three persons, and even more their interpretation of this formula, could lead to misunderstandings. Their distinction between ousia and hypostasis, between the common substance and the distinctive expression of the individual persons, has been mentioned above. As we know, the Cappadocians often emphasized the second alternative, namely, the persons. In doing so they sometimes went very far. For instance, they compared the concept ousia with the generic concept "man," while they compared the individual hypostases with certain men such as Peter, Andrew, or John. Using this analogy, they taught that insofar as the ousia, the substance common to all three, is concerned, they are human beings. Thus they are of "one substance." On the other hand, this common substance comes to definite expression only through concrete personal existence.

This comparison was, of course, not a very happy one. It emphasizes the difference between the persons of the Trinity much more than it does their unity. It was thus possible for the Arians to brand the Cappadocian doctrine of the Trinity as polytheistic, and to do so with a certain appearance of justice. Augustine, who strongly felt the unfortunate element in such a comparison, sought to circumvent this reef on which the theology of the Cappadocians threatened to run aground. As emphatically as he could, he asserted that the Trinity is one God, not three gods. Nor does God cease to be "simple" (simplex) because of his threefoldness. It is noteworthy that Augustine does not use the concept of substantia for the being of God, but that of essentia. He avoids the expression substantia, because it would seem to imply that God’s righteousness is attributed only to his substance, whereas all the perfections which are ascribed to him must, in fact, be regarded as one with his being. If the concept of substantia were used, God would have to be regarded as the bearer of his attributes. But that is impossible. For instance, the greatness, or the goodness, or the eternity of God are not something which must first be added to his substance. God is great in himself, through his own greatness. The same is true for the other so-called attributes of God. All of them inhere in his essence.

This, however, leads immediately to a further consequence. Absolute perfection and absolute being can be asserted only of one. For that reason Augustine insists that it is the one God, not each of the three persons in himself, who possesses a nature, and who possesses one deity, one majesty, and one glory, as well as one will and one operation. There is no activity, therefore, in which only the Father, or only the Son, or only the Holy Spirit is involved. Over against the world, God (ie., the three persons of the Trinity) represents "one principle" (unum principium).’ ^[18] Augustine conceives the unity of the Trinity so stringently that he asserts that not only the Father, but also the Son and the Holy Spirit, were actively involved in the incarnation of the Son. ^[19] To express this view Augustine created a precise formula to the effect that the works of the Trinity are not separable as regards the outside, which means that the three persons of the Trinity always work in concert." ^[20] Of no less importance are Augustine’s reflections on the concept of the persons. He always had reservations about this concept. It is indeed a highly problematical element in the doctrine of the Trinity. While the Greek term hypostasis refers primarily to a distinct personal existence, the Latin term persona frequently includes also a distinct self-consciousness. It was extremely difficult to find a fitting Latin equivalent for the Greek word hypostasis. It should have been translated by the word substantia, But this would have created the impression that three divine substances were being taught, which would have contradicted the homoousios of the Son and the Spirit with the Father. In the Greek the term hypostasis had gained acceptance very slowly, gradually forcing out other words which were also problematical, such as prosépon (mask, face). Augustine strongly felt the inadequacy of the term persona. He always used it with hesitation, and as a rule substituted for it the concept of relatio (relation). The three so-called persons, he said, are not something different, each in himself. They are different only in their relation to each other and to the world. While all absolute properties such as perfection, goodness, and omnipotence belong only to the Trinity in its oneness, the term relatio refers to the inner life of God, as well as his relation to the created world. For this reason, he held, it is not possible to call the Trinity "Father" in the same sense in which it is referred to as great, or good, or eternal. Such an assertion of fatherhood could be made of the Trinity at best in a derivative sense, e.g., in relation to the creatures adopted by God as his children. Yet even in the derivative use of such appellatives Augustine believed there is a difference between the persons of the Trinity. While it is possible to call the entire Trinity "Father" in a secondary sense, it is impossible to call the Trinity "Son" as well: the concept of sonship does not in any way apply to the other persons of the Trinity. ^[21] What Augustine means here is that the designations "Father," "Son," and "Holy Spirit" do not express either a substantial, or a quantitative, or a qualitative difference, because these do not even exist. What the concept of the persons expresses is, rather, an eternal relation. But this relation is not an accidens, i.e., something that is added to "being," for such a relation would be subject to change. The one God, then, is never Father only, or Son only, or Holy Spirit only. He always was, and always will be, the one triune God, namely, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Thus Augustine, too, clings to the differences between the "persons." Under no circumstances did he wish to deny the unique element associated with each of the persons of the Trinity. He rightly noted, however, that the concept of persons is subject to misunderstanding. Augustine felt that this concept was used only in order that the truth involved "might not be left [wholly] unspoken." It did not express to him the actual state of things." ^[22]

The West has never left out of account this interpretation which Augustine had given to the decisions of the councils of Nicaea and Constantinople. It was he who played the decisive role in warning Latin theology against the danger of tritheism and in keeping it from succumbing to this danger. Appealing to Augustine, Karl Barth rendered the concept of persona by the use of the word "mode" [Seinsweise] ^[23] There is yet another sense, however, in which Augustine sets an example for our day. He closed his great work on the Trinity with a prayer in which he asks God’s forgiveness in case he should have said something which does not accord with the truth. "O Lord, the one God," he prayed, "God the Trinity, whatever I have said in these books that is of Thine, may they acknowledge who are Thine; if anything of my own, may it be pardoned both by Thee and by those who are Thine." ^[24] No one should speak of the mystery of the Trinity unless it be with such reverence. But in our day it is perhaps even more essential to emphasize that mere silence about this mystery is not enough.