A Very Merry Athanasian Christmas: Part 1
Introducing the Athanasian Creed
Happy new year!
The Christmas season and its celebration of the Incarnation makes me want to share a devotional practice I adopted recently that might feel meaningful for some of you musing on enriching your walk with Christ in the new year.
Anglicans (at least my corner of Anglicanism in the Episcopal Church) are accustomed to two creeds these days: the Nicene Creed1 for Communion on Sundays and other big days, and the shorter Apostles’ Creed used for baptisms and Morning and Evening Prayer. In the past, though, another creed, the Athanasian Creed (Quicunque vult in Latin) held a high place among the Apostles’ and Nicene in the Western doctrinal tradition.
It is called Athanasian in honor of St. Athanasius of Alexandria, the great 4th century Greek bishop-theologian who defended the orthodoxy of the Council of Nicea and popularized monasticism with an enormously influential hagiography of St. Antony. But this text does not originate with him—it seems to have been misattributed. Perhaps Athanasius’ doctrinal vibes felt complementary with this text. It was originally written in Latin and originates in the 5th or 6th century. It is a diptych: one half on the Trinity which begins “Whosoever will…” (Quicunque vult); and one half on the Incarnation.
Some of the older Books of Common Prayer, including the 1662, appointed the Athanasian Creed for Morning Prayer at select times of year. The17th century Caroline divine Lancelot Andrewes famously said the doctrine of the Church of England was:
One canon reduced to writing by God himself, two testaments, three creeds, four general councils, five centuries, and the series of Fathers in that period – the centuries that is, before Constantine, and two after, determine the boundary of our faith.2 [emphasis mine]
This indicates that the Athanasian Creed, at least for a certain period of the Church of England, held a co-equal place along its more famous colleagues. To speak of the creeds was to speak of a three-legged stool, as it were. Now, in the American Episcopal context the Athanasian Creed had never been included in a Prayer Book. The theological climate of the 18th century in which the Episcopal Church originated was one where many educated people affirmed Deism and believed traditional doctrines like the Trinity were superstitious and irrational. In the 1979 BCP, the Athanasian Creed finally made a formal American debut in the small-print “Historical Documents of the Church” on p. 864.3 The adjective “historical” indicates the Episcopal Church does not make this text a formal doctrine to be affirmed, unlike the Nicene Creed. But I have found great benefit in adopting it and reciting it regularly.
I am almost sad now that this creed has fallen into obscurity. The Athanasian Creed has a long and grand style. It feels more analytic or abstract than its cousins, because it affirms the Trinity in a more immanent manner by describing Who the Trinity is in Godself, rather than the economic or “narrative” manner of the Apostles’ and Nicene, which are both focused on the story of Jesus Christ.4 Both styles are needed for a robust way of thinking about the doctrine of the Trinity however. I have found, then, that reciting the Athanasian Creed a few times per year can flesh out my understanding and language for the Triune God compared to if I just relied on the narrative/economic style of the Nicene Creed. Certain kinds of vocabulary are more available to me now than in the past.
For example, this language sharpens how I consider the relations of the Three Persons:
Uncreated is the Father; / uncreated is the Son; / uncreated is the Spirit.
The Father is infinite; / the Son is infinite; / the Holy Spirit is infinite.
Eternal is the Father; / eternal is the Son; / eternal is the Spirit:
And yet there are not three eternal beings, / but one who is eternal;
as there are not three uncreated and unlimited beings, /
but one who is uncreated and unlimited.
…
The Father was neither made / nor created nor begotten;
the Son was neither made nor created, / but was alone begotten of the Father;
the Spirit was neither made nor created, / but is proceeding from the Father and the Son.5
The first part quoted helps me understand that the Persons of the Trinity are inseparable; They are not “three parts” of God like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The language of the other quote builds directly on the vocabulary of the Nicene Creed: the Father Who is unoriginate, the Son Who is begotten, and the Spirit Who is proceeding (and note the Creed’s western origins in affirming the Spirit’s double procession). So, the Persons are One God; yet They are not temporary phases of God, but have eternal and distinct relations.6
The evangelical theologian Fred Sanders, whom I adore, wrote a wonderful reflection on the “immanent” tone of voice in the Athanasian Creed by calling it the “Quicunquan style” and comparing it to the Nicene Creed:
The Quicunquan style sets the three names as close together as possible and gathers them under the title “Trinity”… Having pulled the concepts together tidily, the Quicunquan style can then work back and forth across a three-one dialectic: “The Father eternal, the Son eternal, and the Holy Spirit eternal; and yet they are not three eternals but one eternal.” It prompts the reader to seek clarity about what is one (essence) and what is three (persons).7
In addition to the first half on the Trinity, the second half on the Incarnation feels like a nice expansion and complement to the Chalcedonian Definition of 451, which is also included in the 1979 BCP’s Historical Documents. Notice the echo of Chalcedon’s careful distinguishing between Jesus Christ’s Person and natures:
… existing fully as God, / and fully as man / with a rational soul and a human body.
… Although he is God and man, / he is not divided, / but is one Christ… He is completely one in the unity of his person, / without confusing his natures.
or in the older Book of Common Prayer translation:
Perfect God and perfect man … Who although he is God and man, / yet he is not two, but one Christ… One altogether, not by confusion of substance, / but by unity of person.
The rest of the Creed then summarizes the story of Christ’s death and resurrection in a narrative manner like the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds.
However, there is a part of this creed that I dislike, and it is these statements:
Whoever wants to be saved
should above all cling to the catholic [universal] faith.
Whoever does not guard it whole and inviolable
will doubtless perish eternally.
…
Whoever wants to be saved should think thus about the Trinity.It is necessary for eternal salvation that one also faithfully believe
that our Lord Jesus became flesh.
…
This is the catholic faith.
One cannot be saved without believing this firmly and faithfully.
These statements, appearing in the beginning, middle, and end, is probably why the Quicunque Vult has fallen out of popularity in the modern era. It ties salvation to a right intellectual comprehension of doctrine—the very link which is a supreme discomfort and offense in our own age, and that much modern Christian spirituality has tried to qualify, negotiate, or sever.8 I imagine there are plenty of ways to negotiate and soften these statements with a fresh perspective today. But they remain. Another strategy might be to excise these statements and revise the Creed itself—but that opens up a can of worms too: “by whose authority?” Perhaps one day a bold denominational committee will take it upon themselves to revise the Quicunque Vult to make it more palatable for public worship or as a formal statement of faith. However, as a Christian individual reciting the Athanasian Creed for private devotion and catechesis, I personally let the discomfort remain and don’t let myself fixate on these conditional statements as the meat of the Creed—the rest of the content is much more valuable to me. And I have the freedom to do so since this Creed is ultimately categorized as a “historical document” for Episcopalians.
In Part 2, I will get really into some liturgical nerdiness and describe the system I developed using the 1979 Book of Common Prayer’s own calendrical principles for reciting the Athanasian Creed during the year.
Here is Part 2:
I know this as the Nicene Creed, in honor of its origins at the Council of Nicea in 325, but to be technical, this is the revised Creed adopted at Constantinople I in 381, so it’s the “Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed,” a mouthful for which I would not be awake enough to pronounce on Sunday mornings.
If someone can help me source this famous quote, let me know.
This a Ye Olde “Rite I” translation, which is also found in The 1662 Book of Common Prayer: International Edition, eds. Samuel L. Bray and Drew Nathaniel Keane (InterVarsity Press, 2021), p. 27.
The distinction between the immanent and economic Trinity is basic to academic discussion of this doctrine. The immanent Trinity is Who the Persons of the Godhead are in Themselves, eternally, apart from any interaction with the created universe. The economic Trinity is Who the Persons of the Godhead are as human beings and creation know Them in the salvation of Jesus Christ and the intervention of God in human history written in Scripture.
The 1978 Lutheran Book of Worship has a contemporary version of the Quicunque Vult I am using linked here:https://download.elca.org/ELCA%20Resource%20Repository/Athanasian_Creed_Evangelical_Lutheran_Worship.pdf.
This is why it’s not a good idea to compare the Trinity to the three phases of water, any more than it is appropriate to compare the Trinity to a PB&J sandwich.
Fred Sanders, “Nicene and Quicunquan Styles,” The Scriptorium Daily, Aug. 5, 2016, accessed Dec. 31, 2024, https://scriptoriumdaily.com/nicene-and-quicunquan-styles/.
The discomfort of modernity is not an outlier, historically. I’m reminded of the famous statement of the 15th century devotional, The Imitation of Christ, which in its opening chapter challenges readers: “What good does it do to speak learnedly about the Trinity if, lacking humility, you displease the Trinity?” (Christian Classics Ethereal Library, accessed Jan. 2, 2025, https://www.ccel.org/ccel/kempis/imitation.ONE.1.html.)
I really enjoyed this. And I share the discomfort about the anathemas. Perhaps this is an attempt to evade what the text says - to embark on what you call a strategy of negotiating and softening - but I do think it is difficult to imagine that even in its original context it was taken to mean that salvation is wholly dependent on perfect Trinitarian doctrine! Who then could be saved, indeed. Interestingly, I checked Mant's Annotated Book of Common Prayer (an early 19th c text, which is essentially a compendium of 17th and 18th c. prayer book commentaries), and many of the comments make a similar point: that the condemnatory clauses either should only be taken to applying to confession of the Trinity and Incarnation broadly (and not necessarily the creed's specific explanations thereof), or to a willed, obstinate denial of these doctrines. So this is all to say that both in general (I appreciated your reference to the Imitation of Christ here) and with the Athanasian Creed specifically, there is reticence to say that its condemnatory clauses in fact condemn a sincere believer confused by confessing 'one incomprehensible, not three incomprehensibles.' Whether one takes this as the most accurate exposition of the text or an attempt to wriggle out of what it in fact says may be a matter of dispute.