Who is Jesus?

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Caravaggio

In his introduction to Athanasius’ great work, On the Incarnation, C. S. Lewis wrote that it was this 4th c. bishop who “stood for the Trinitarian doctrine, ‘whole and undefiled’ when it looked as if all the civilized world was slipping back from Christianity to the religion of Arius—into one of those ‘sensible’ synthetic religions which are so strongly recommended today and which, then as now, included among their devotees many highly cultivated clergymen.” Lewis praises the saintly bishop, saying that “It is his glory that he did not move with the times; it is his reward that he now remains when those times, as all times do, have moved away.” Athanasius was at the center of the great debate that led the Church to clarify its message about Jesus of Nazareth. At the heart of the debate was the question, “Who is Jesus?”

This is a vital question. As we move closer to the celebration of the birth of Jesus, the question is front and center. We have Peter’s response. Jesus asked him directly, “Who do you say that I am?” to which Peter responded, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” But what does that mean?

The Early Church throughout the world believed in one God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It believed that Jesus was divine and that he had overcome death and sin through his crucifixion and resurrection. It believed that Jesus was present in the Sacraments. The Church had terminology such as Trinity, Persons of the Trinity, New Testament, Old Testament, etc. But greater clarity of what had been revealed once and for all in Jesus and about him was needed.

Some of this was a debate about revelation. How do we learn about God? What role does philosophy play in the Church’s discussion? For example, if God is immutable (unchanging, untouchable, ultimately unknowable), how could God become one of us? For Arius, a 3rd c. priest, it was absurd to think that God would put on flesh and die on a cross. Jesus may have been divine, but obviously not as divine as God the Father (the immutable, unknowable, etc.). 

Stemming from the question, “Who is Jesus?” other questions quickly arose: did God in his fullness come in the person of Jesus? Did Christ die for the sins of the whole world? Did Christ rise as the firstborn of a new creation? What does the word “firstborn” mean? The grounds of the debate should be easy to see. And Athanasius was ready to step in, to affirm the Incarnate Word—very God of very God, begotten not made—who died for the sins of the world. But who was Athanasius? 

Athanasius was a bishop, a very abused bishop. He did not come from wealth or privilege. We can describe him as coming from “the wrong side of the tracks.” He was also short, apparently. And dark. He was called “the Black dwarf,” likely coming from the dark-skinned Coptic community. The time and place of his birth is not known, although he was likely born in an obscure village on the shores of the River Nile c. 296-298. 

We know that he had close connections to the desert monks, those led by St. Antony. Throughout his life he remained close to the desert monks. They supported him and often gave him asylum. Likely due to their  influence, he lived a life of rigid discipline. Both his friends and his enemies respected him. Justo Gonzalez wrote that, “Of all the opponents of Arianism, Athanasius was the one to be feared most” (The Story of Christianity: Volume 1: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (2010), 200).

 One of his strongest attributes, however, was his connection to everyday people. He lived out his faith in the midst of everyday people, without pomp, and without the increasingly complicated ideology of the Arians. 

Like most of the major players in this debate, he lived in Alexandria, Egypt. Both he and Arius were priests within the Alexandrian Church, an ancient center of Christianity. When the controversy broke out, Alexander was the bishop. He was the first champion of orthodoxy against Arianism at the First Council in Nicaea in 325.

But what was Arianism? In short, it was the belief that Jesus was not equal to the Father. Jesus was a creature. Created. He was not simply human. Arius argued that the Word was the very first created being, and even though the Father created all things through him, he was not equal with the Father. 

Arius is famous for saying of the Word that, “there was a time when he was not.” And although Arius was very popular, he was censured. Alexander publicly challenged him by calling his teachings heretical. It was Alexander’s challenge that was discussed in Nicaea at the Council. 

The primary players at the Council were Alexander and Eusebius of Nicomedia. The reaction of the Fathers of the Council was swift. One account tells that when Eusebius began to speak of this demoted Jesus that the bishops stormed the floor, took his notes, and stomped them to the ground. The bulk of what we call the Nicene Creed is the result of this exchange. But it’s one thing for a Council to declare a doctrine. It’s another thing for the rank and file to embrace it. 

We can’t underestimate the power of Arianism. For a time, despite having been repudiated at Nicaea, Arianism thrived, especially among the powerful, the elite, and the well educated, together with many north of the Empire’s borders. It was an odd but potent coalition. The Emperors of Rome and Constantinople would teeter between orthodoxy and Arianism. Some local synods embraced Arianism, despite the Council. Arianism was popular because it fit within dominant philosophical perspectives of the time and its popularity only increased through the use of accessible, yet Arian, songs and hymns. 

But Athanasius stood his ground. This is where the phrase Athanasius contra mundum [against the world] comes into play. Athanasius was the one who came to define the orthodox position after the Council and after the death of his bishop, Alexander, when he himself was consecrated a bishop. And he would pay for it. He served as bishop for 47 years, 17 of them in exile. It would take most of the 4th century and another Council for Arianism finally to be stamped out. 

Even before the controversies, Athanasius had written two books, both emphasizing the doctrine of the Incarnation: God the eternal Word became human by the power of the Holy Spirit in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. In other words, both books addressed the question, “Who is Jesus?”

For Athanasius, everything hinged on the Incarnation. This was how salvation was brought to the world. It might be expected that a book on the Incarnation would start with the Annunciation, when the Angel Gabriel visited the Virgin Mary. Or with Mary’s “be it unto me according to thy word.” But Athanasius begins with the cross. On the cross, Jesus took the sins of the world upon himself, and in his resurrection he conquered both sin and the grave. Who can do this? 

For Athanasius, the Incarnate Word became flesh in the Virgin Mary and in so doing took on our nature, including its ability to die. And when Jesus died on the cross, he delivered our nature in himself and died for us all - every human being. This act of love showed us his nature and death lost its power in his resurrection. The “law concerning corruption in human beings” was “undone.” Its power was taken away. And he exchanged our “corruption” for “incorruptibility” offering “life from death, by making the body his own and by the grace of the resurrection banishing death from [humanity] as straw from the fire.”

God himself, in the person of Jesus, being one of us, brought salvation to us. And only as one of us, could this salvation have been accomplished for us. Humanity is incapable of saving itself. Only God can do this. You can see why Athanasius challenged Arianism. What was at stake was salvation itself. 

Athanasius endured much for the sake of orthodoxy. Rumors were spread about him. One of the first was that he murdered Bishop Arsenius! It was rumoured that he dabbled in magic and that he was a tyrant over the Christians of Egypt. The Emperor, through a subordinate, summoned Athanasius to Tyre to answer for these charges. Having heard the charges, Athanasius brought forward a man covered in a cloak. After making sure that a number of people in the room knew Arsenius, he then uncovered the bishop alive and well. 

Wanting to believe at least part of the story, Athanasius’ accusers said that he had cut off one of Arsenius’ hands to perform magic. So he had the bishop show both of his hands to the court before that rumor, too, dissipated. But wanting to clear his name with the Emperor himself, Athanasius went to Constantinople. Unfortunately, Eusebius of Nicomedia, the same Arian bishop at the Council, kept him from the Emperor. So finally Athanasius caught hold of the reign of the Emperor’s horse to get his attention. The trick worked, but Constantine came to believe that Athanasius was dangerous and impulsive. 

Later, rumors spread that Athanasius would stop the flow of wheat from Egypt to Rome and so he was banished from Alexandria. Shortly thereafter, Constantine died and exiled bishops were allowed to return to their dioceses. Yet, this was not the end of Athanasius’ struggles. When he returned after the first exile, for instance, a rival bishop (of the Arian variety) named Gregory had been put in place. He had the backing of the local government. Violence broke out. They fought over church buildings. Athanasius thought it best to leave in order to end the violence. He was smuggled to Rome—the governor had banned his travel—where he gained the backing of the Roman clergy and the Emperor. The Roman Church declared him the legitimate bishop of Alexandria. But he was not allowed to return to Egypt immediately. By the time he arrived back, Gregory’s mismanagement of the Church was such that Athanasius was welcomed as a hero. After this, he had 10 years of peaceful ministry. 

However, another Arian Emperor arose in the East who forced many of the bishops to embrace Arianism. This pro-Arian state policy took with it most of the Church. Athanasius didn’t budge, but neither was he allowed to remain in his position openly in Alexandria. He didn’t leave, but for five years he was hidden by his people and by the desert monks. Athanasius was allowed to live the last years of his life in relative peace under a succession of emperors, two of them pagan. He remained faithful. 

What was Athanasius’s ultimate contribution to the Church? He stood firm and clarified the Church’s historic belief about Jesus. Gregory of Nazianzus, another great church father, described Athanasius as the “Pillar of the Church.” 

For Athanasius, only the Creator of the creation could “recreate” it, “being the Word of the Father and above all, he alone consequently was both able to recreate the universe and was worthy to suffer on behalf of all and to intercede for all before the Father.” Out of love, the Word became flesh so that as flesh he might die on our behalf. As God, he sanctified our existence and overcame the power of sin and death. Only the one who is fully God and fully human could accomplish the salvation of the world. Or in the words of Athanasius, “we were the purpose of his embodiment and for our salvation he so loved human beings as to come to be and appear in a human body.” Athanasius was right. 

This is Jesus.

 Ryan N. Danker is the Director of the John Wesley Institute in Washington, DC, and Assistant Lead Editor at Firebrand.