One of the most famous stories about the Council of Nicaea is the legend that St. Nicholas slapped the heretic Arius in the face for his impudence and heretical teaching. Whether this event actually happened or not is a matter of debate. Some Catholics love it, while others do not. 

Either way, the Council of Nicaea — whose 1,700th anniversary we celebrate this year — remains deeply relevant to the Christian Church today, as its ancient controversies still echo in the divisions we see now. At its core, the divide is between the Church of Nicaea and the Church of “Nice.” 

To understand what I mean by this contrast, we have to check the history. In the fourth century, the heresy of Arianism was rampant. It was part of the great, long-running debate over the divinity of Christ and therefore the definition of the Holy Trinity. At the core of Arianism was a denial of orthodox Christology. Put simply, the Arians believed that Jesus was not the Second Person of the Holy Trinity who took human flesh of his blessed mother. He was, instead, a created being — a demigod — and therefore subordinate to God the Father. 

Arianism was not just a theological problem — it developed into a major schism. The Arians had their own churches, appointed their own bishops, and even had the support of temporal powers like Emperor Theodoric. St. Athanasius, who famously battled against Arianism, noted that the Arians were subtle theologians. They used ambiguous language and spoke in vague terms. They were more interested in pastoral care than dogma. They were also, for the most part, better educated and largely drawn from the ruling classes. 

Arianism, with its subtler understanding of the Incarnation, seemed like a much nicer and more believable religion. The idea of Jesus as a created being, subordinate to the Father, was a more intellectually palatable solution to the mystery of the Incarnation — a solution that avoided the complexities of the doctrine of the Trinity. 

Today Arianism has taken a different form, creeping back into the Church under the guise of secular humanism. By “secular humanism,” I mean the pragmatic belief system that takes man as the measure of all things. This humanism is a conglomeration of different modernistic beliefs, but the summary of it all is that this physical world is all there is, that human history is all that matters, and that the advancement of the human race in this physical realm is the only thing worth fighting for. 

Arianism today is an interpretation of Christianity according to this materialistic, humanistic philosophy. Consequently, Jesus Christ as the divine Son of God and the co-eternal Second Person of the Holy Trinity doesn’t fit with this worldview. Instead, the Arians of our day have concocted a nicer, more palatable version and treat Jesus as a noble soul, a spiritual teacher, a wise rabbi, a beautiful example, or a martyr for a lofty cause. At most, they see Jesus as a human being who is “so fulfilled and self-actualized that he has ‘become divine.’” In other words, “he reveals to us the divine image in which we were all created — and therefore shows us what God is like.” There is a sense in which this “divinization” happened to Jesus as a result of the graces he received from God, the life he led, and the sufferings he endured. 

This sentimental Christianity is our modern form of Arianism. The cultural context of the heresy and its expression are different, but the essence of the heresy is the same as it always was: “Jesus Christ is a created being. His ‘divinity’ is something that developed or was added to his humanity by God.” 

The difference between Arius and the modern heretics is that Arius was explicit in his teaching. The modern heretics are not. They inhabit our seminaries, monasteries and presbyterates. They are the modernist clergy who dominate the mainstream Protestant denominations, and who lodge in too many of our Catholic rectories, colleges and chanceries. They are not a separate sect or denomination. Instead, they embed themselves in the Church, weakening its integrity from within. 

Many of them don’t even know they are heretics. They have been poorly catechized from the start. Their beliefs about Jesus Christ have remained fuzzy and out of focus. They hold their beliefs in a sentimental haze in which they vaguely feel that what they believe is “Christian” but would not want to pin it down too much.  

This is because they have been taught that dogma is “divisive.” They deliberately keep their beliefs vague and focus on “pastoral concerns” to avoid the difficult questions. They elevate peace-and-justice issues as the only mission of the Church. They have been taught that dogma is part of an earlier age in the Church and that we have matured and moved on from such nitpicky scrupulosity. “God, after all, can’t be put into a box. He’s bigger than all that,” they say. They focus on a sweet, sentimental travesty of the Catholic religion — a kind of Hallmark greeting-card version of the faith. 

In other words, it is the Church of Nice, not the Church of Nicaea. 

Nevertheless, they feel totally at ease reciting the Nicene Creed every week and celebrating the Nativity of the Son of God and the great Paschal Triduum — using all the words of traditional Nicene Christianity, while re-interpreting those words in a way that would please Arius. So when they speak of Jesus Christ, the divine Son of God, they really mean that “in some beautiful way he was such a perfect human being that he reveals to us what God is like.” 

The Virgin Mary then becomes “a good and pure Jewish girl who dealt with her unplanned pregnancy with great courage and faith.” The crucifixion becomes “the tragic death of a young and courageous fighter for peace and justice.” The resurrection means that “in some mysterious way, by following his teachings, the disciples of Jesus continued to believe that he was alive within their hearts and within history.” 

Now what really interests me is that these modern-day Arians — and I’m sure the same could be said of their fourth-century counterparts — are not wicked and filthy sinners. They’re nice people. They’re articulate, educated people. They’re well-off people. They’re well-connected people. They’re good, solid respectable “Christian” people. As the Arians had support from the emperors, so today they have representatives in the conferences of bishops, the college of cardinals, and the corridors of power. They’re the people on top of the socio-economic pecking order. Furthermore, their Arian version of the faith seems so much more reasonable and sensible and nice than the demanding orthodoxy of Sts. Athanasius, Nicholas, Basil and Gregory and the historic Church down through the ages. 

In this anniversary year of orthodoxy, we should recognize the Arians for what they are: wolves in sheep’s clothing. They may appear to be nice, respectable, prayerful and sincere Christians — but they’re heretics. They deceive others — and, most of all, themselves. If they have their way, and if their subtle heresies prevail, they will destroy the faith and we’ll end up with the Church of Nice, not with the Church of Nicaea. To be nice is to be lukewarm, and we should remember (from Revelation 3:16) what happens to the lukewarm disciples: They are spat out. 

 

Father Dwight Longenecker is the author of The Quest for the Creed. Read his blog, browse his books and be in touch at dwightlongenecker.com.