This article was originally written as part of a series on the three creeds.
To this point in the series, we have looked at the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed. Now we turn our attention to the Athanasian Creed. Even at first glance, we can see that these creeds are getting longer and longer. The Apostles’ Creed is the most succinct (and thus easiest to memorize), the Nicene Creed is longer and more expansive, and now the Athanasian Creed is considerably longer than either. We can think about them this way: the Nicene Creed builds upon and clarifies various statements made in the Apostles’ Creed, and the Athanasian Creed builds upon and provides even more specification on selected topics of central importance. This creed was not written by Athanasius (although it echoes his teachings in many ways), and it has not been accepted as an “ecumenical” statement of faith (as was the Nicene Creed). But it has served Christians well across a broad range of times and places.
Yet There Are Not Three Gods, But One God
The Creed focuses on two major areas of Christian doctrine. The first concerns the mystery of the Holy Trinity, and the Creed rightly affirms the central importance of the doctrine and helpfully lays down guidelines for interpreting it. Notice first how important the doctrine is. In contrast, for many contemporary Christians, the Trinity is just an impenetrable mystery that seems completely irrelevant to Christian life and piety. For critics of Christianity, of course, the doctrine is literal nonsense; but for many Christians, the doctrine is not only difficult but also simply remote and irrelevant. Indeed, many contemporary Christians might agree with the skeptical philosopher Immanuel Kant when he says that the doctrine of the Trinity “has no practical relevance at all.” Quite frankly, many expressions of Christian faith and practice are functionally Unitarian rather than Trinitarian—and we are so accustomed to it that we don’t even notice. The Athanasian Creed rightly recognizes the importance of the doctrine, and it calls us to return to the full riches of our faith.
Many expressions of Christian faith and practice are functionally Unitarian rather than Trinitarian—and we are so accustomed to it that we don’t even notice.
The Creed summarizes the historic Christian doctrine this way: there are three divine persons who together are one God. God just is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The divine persons are really distinct from one another, and they are fully personal. The divine persons are not just “roles” that God takes on or disguises that God assumes. God does not at one point in time present himself as “Father” and then at a later point in time as “Son” (and then, later yet, as “Spirit”). No, the divine persons are genuinely distinct and fully personal. The Son addresses the Father as an “I” speaking to a “Thou.” The Father speaks of and to the Son as an “I” to a “Thou” (Matt 3:17). The Holy Spirit addresses the Father on behalf of those who are joined by faith in union with Christ (Rom 8:26-27). The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are related to one another in a holy and eternal communion of love. They give to one another and receive from one another. They love one another. Indeed, although we see through a glass darkly, by the light of grace we do see. And what we see is astounding: we see that the very life of God—God on the “inside”—is a life of purest, holy love.
The very life of God—God on the “inside”—is a life of purest, holy love.
The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are three distinct persons who are fully and completely divine. Note carefully how the Creed denies that any divine person is “greater” (or “lesser”) than the others (of course Jesus says that the Father is “greater” (John 14:28), but this is to be understood according to the Son as he is human, i.e., taking on the “form of a servant” (Phil 2:7)). We should not think that there is a “boss” at the “top” of the Trinity. The Trinity is not hierarchically structured. It is not as if the Father is somehow more divine (or more really God) than the Son or the Spirit. To the contrary, as the Creed reminds us, the divine persons are “coeternal and coequal.” The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are fully divine.
And yet they are one God. They are three persons, but in a very important sense they are not like three human persons. They are not three gods who happen to get along well. They are not three “parts” of God that happen to be attached to one another. There is no autonomy. There is no hiding. There is no conflict. There is no competition. There is no division or separation. There is no tension. Instead, there is mutuality there mutuality and openness and fullness of life. There is full and complete oneness of action. Think of the life and ministry of Christ: The Son becomes human and then lives, dies, is resurrected, ascended, and glorified precisely according to the will of the Father and in the power of the Holy Spirit. And this complete unity of action is based upon something that goes even deeper: The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are maximally unified in action because they are one being.
Both God and Human, Equally
The second major area of the Creed’s focus is directly on Christ. Directly echoing the Nicene Creed, it tells us that Jesus Christ is both fully human and fully divine in the unity of his person. Ideas and theories about the identity of Jesus abound. They are all around us. Some people recognize his humanity—but then think of him only as a good moral teacher. Others think of him as a great prophet—maybe even the greatest. Some suggest that he was a fairly ordinary dude who was found worthy by God and uniquely adopted to play a special role. Others see him as a mysterious godlike creature. Some see him as “divine”—but then insist that his divinity is a lesser or lower-ranked deity. Some understand him to be the highest creature, one who is before and above all others but not really “God.” At the other extreme, some take him to be God who only appears to be human. Still others think that he switches back and forth between humanity and divinity, and others theorize that he is a unique mixture of God and man.
Jesus Christ is both fully human and fully divine in the unity of his person.
But the biblical witness to the full and complete humanity of Christ is obvious. He has a specific family heritage. He is hungry and thirsty and exhausted. He displays human emotions. He is born… and he dies. In fact, the genuineness of his humanity was never in question to those who knew him. And he is more than merely human—indeed, he is fully and completely divine. He is worshiped by his earliest followers. He does the things that only God can do. He is referred to in the New Testament not only as “Son of Man” but also as “Lord” and even as “God” (theos). He is not part human and part divine; he is not switching back and forth from one to the other, and he is not sorta-divine or divine-ish. No, he is both fully human (and thus, to use the formal language, homoousios with humanity) and fully divine (and thus homoousios with the Father and Spirit).
Why This Matters
It should be obvious that the Creed insists that the doctrines of the Trinity and the incarnation are of utmost importance. But why do these doctrines matter so much? How are these doctrines so important? Let’s start with a question: what is the first thought that comes to your mind when you think of God? Do you think of raw power? Stern justice? A remote monarch who is nearly impossible to please? There is some truth in all of those conceptions, of course—God is just and powerful. But if we are Trinitarian—really Trinitarian all the way down—our understandings of divine justice and power will be informed and shaped by something even deeper. For what the doctrine of the Trinity tells us is that the ultimate truth about God is this: God’s own nature is holy love. God’s love is not a contingent thing; it is not something that God decides to have or that God occasionally decides to exercise. No, it is essential to God’s own life. It is who God is (1 John 4:8), and all that God does is an expression of that love. There is nothing better, nothing greater, nothing stronger.
What the doctrine of the Trinity tells us is that the ultimate truth about God is this: God’s own nature is holy love.
Let’s think of another question: why are you here; why were you created? The answer of the Trinitarian faith is clear. You do not exist as a cosmic accident, and you were not created as part of a cosmic experiment. You are created—and redeemed—for the purpose of knowing and sharing that love.
We are made for nothing less than participation in the divine life.
And just how are we related to this Triune God? The New Testament answer is straightforward: by being joined in union with Christ. And just how does this happen? Faith is the “instrument” (like a tool) that is used, but it is the Holy Spirit who uses our faith to connect us to Christ and his benefits. Because Jesus Christ is both fully divine and fully human he is able to bridge the chasm between sinful humanity and a holy God. These benefits include those that are (or are much like) legal benefits; there is “no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:1), and those who are saved are going to heaven. But the benefits go so much further—indeed, we are made for nothing less than participation in the divine life. We are made to know and love the God whose nature is holy love. This means that the Holy Spirit will work to conform us to the image of the Son, not only to bring us to heaven when we die but to bring heaven into our lives.
The doctrines of the Trinity and incarnation, while surely the deepest mysteries of the Christian faith, are also at the very heart of the gospel. The good news is such astounding good news precisely because God is goodness itself. “God so loved the world” precisely because “God is love.”
This article was first published in the Bible Methodist Magazine. Used by permission.Â
