The Nicene Creed: The nature of Christian unity and the meaning of gospel words is a carefully written, informed, and thoughtful examination of basic Roman Catholic beliefs following the implicit and explicit trajectory laid out in the Nicene Creed: the doctrines of the authority of Scripture, Trinity, person and work of Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, the virgin Mary, salvation, church, and the world to come. It arises out of the teaching and pastoral ministries of the authors, who all—whether in Italy, France, Belgium, Ireland, Australia or the United States—are involved in proclaiming and explaining to today’s Roman Catholics the gospel of Jesus Christ as it is presented in the Scriptures. The book is marked by careful attention to sources and fair critical evaluation of them. It is missiological. The intended audience is Bible study groups in Evangelical churches. More widely, its analysis and presentation make it an excellent introduction to contemporary, foundational Roman Catholic beliefs and how the scriptural gospel speaks to them.
Often it “has been argued that the Nicene Creed is an important basis for achieving greater unity among evangelicals and Catholics.” Pope Francis especially stated that the creed as a “hymn of praise and thanksgiving” represents a summons for Christian unity. The Nicene Creed is endorsed by most Christian denominations, and rightly so, as its statements about who God is and what he has done in Christ offer an important framework within which Christian thinking and practice may develop well. But, with respect to Nicaea being a basis for unity, there is an important assumption operating: “that evangelicals and Catholics share the faith expressed in the Creed.” “This book will respectfully challenge that assumption.” Not to deny what is in common, “but to ask questions about its depth.” Because Evangelicals and Catholics hold fundamentally different understandings of the gospel, is the Creed sufficient for a shared basis “for meaningful Christian belief, confession, fellowship and ministry”? Is it a pathway to unity?
In 11 chapters, each about 3,500 words in length, the writers seek to answer this question about the claim that the Creed offers a pathway to unity between Evangelicals and Catholics by systematically looking closely at each article of the Creed along three lines:
- appreciate what that article testifies to in our Christian faith
- show how Evangelicals and Roman Catholics have applied that article in the development of their doctrine and practice, and
- show where the Roman Catholic Church has taken the meaning of that article beyond biblical teaching.
Each chapter ends with questions for further reflection and discussion.
Importantly, the book examines two doctrines that are not found in the Nicene Creed, but touch on its fundamental intent to speak truthfully about God and his work, and in which Evangelicals have deep differences with Roman Catholicism: the authority of Scripture; and salvation, especially Mariology, the person and role of Mary in salvation, and the nature of justification.
What follows is a brief review of each chapter, to indicate something of its trajectory and occasionally offer evaluative comments that seek to extend the scope of the chapter’s analysis.
In chapter 1, “The history of the Nicene Creed”, Rachel Ciano sets out and examines its historical and theological context. That Jesus was fully God, God incarnate, was being denied by a widely embraced and dominant Arianism: Jesus was divine, but unlike the Father, his essence was not eternal; he had a beginning. This meant that Christians had two Gods. The Creed of Nicaea sought to affirm both that there is only one God, and that the Son is also truly, eternally, God. Ciano also identifies the ambiguities that surrounded the original Nicaean statements, ambiguities which effectively affirmed that the Son was not co-eternal with the Father. Thus a Semi-Arianism resurged. It took a difficult 60 years before the ambiguous reading of the Creed was corrected, at the Council of Constantinople. Therefore what we recite today is actually the “Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed”. The following chapters have a closer examination of each article of the Creed, “so we can understand what each mean and what is at stake when the very words used are contested in terms of their theological meaning.”
In chapter 2, “The Nicene Creed and the authority of Scripture”, Alastair Dunlop draws on the Apostolic writings to the Christian churches as he examines the nature and authority of the scriptural foundation of our faith. He thus agues for and explains the Evangelical doctrine of the authority of Holy Scripture: that it is the only one true foundation, it is complete, it is written, it is supremely authoritative. To use Calvin’s words, we know no Christ except Christ clothed with his gospel, the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments. To this, Roman Catholicism is opposed. “Its foundation and authority are not constituted by Scripture alone, but rather a three-legged stool of Scripture, tradition and the magisterium (the teaching office of Rome, consisting of the pope, bishops and councils).” In this, it is the traditions (known or yet to be known) of Rome and its teaching office which effectively have authority over Scripture, for they determine what must be authentic interpretations of Scripture. Their four-fold beliefs about Mary, not found in the Bible, are a prime example (see chapter 7) of the distortion that the Roman Catholic position produces. The “Bible alone”, “Christ alone” stance of the Reformation finds its footing in Jesus’ prayer (John 17:20–21) for unity for us all: we come to believe in him, come into saving relationship with him, based on the apostolic message. Our creedal statements, in all their usefulness and authority, must be subordinate to that enscriptured message. It is worth noting that the Reformers also affirmed that the saving and authoritative operation of Scripture is not a distant instrument, a mere sign, pointing us to a distant God. They emphasised that Christ is present to us, directly, in person, by his Word; his Word read, preached, and meditated on.
In chapter 3, “The trinitarian framework of the Nicene Creed”, Leonardo De Chirico affirms the foundational, formative importance of the trinitarian account of God in the Creed. With close attention to official Roman Catholic sources, De Chirico then tracks theological statements which precede and determine how their doctrinal statements about the Trinity are to be arrived at and viewed; then, what is actually contained in the trinitarian confessions themselves, and what follows them, especially the doctrine of the church.
When viewed in their own context, do Roman Catholics embrace the same trinitarian faith? No. And the differences are not minor. For example, included in the Catechism statements on Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and on the Holy Spirit, are interwoven statements on Mary, her own immaculate conception, her perpetual virginity, that she is the Mother of the Church, and that ““the Church’s devotion to the Blessed Virgin is intrinsic to Christian worship” (Catechism 971).” De Chirico’s conclusions are appropriate: “Mariology is not a separate attachment to the trinitarian foundation but an organic part of the Roman Catholic account of it… Mariology tends to be an intruder into trinitarian harmony and an obstacle to fully appreciating who the triune God is and what he has done for us. Jesus says, ‘Come to me’ (Matt 11:28) and ‘no-one comes to the Father except through me’ (John 14:6), but Roman Catholicism encourages people to invoke Mary for help.” Further, “when the catechism speaks of Christ, it interweaves him with the Church to the point of making them one.”
This means that although the Nicene words recited both by Evangelicals and Roman Catholics are the same, “the theological worlds they open are different.”
In chapters 4 and 5, Matthew Johnston and Robbie Bellis look at the person and then the work of Jesus Christ. The two are interrelated.
Following the Council of Constantinople’s clarification of the Nicene Creed in AD 381, 70 years later the Council of Chalcedon dealt with a tide of misunderstanding that thought Jesus’ divine nature had in fact “divinised” his human nature. That is, Jesus Christ was and is less human than we are. Chalcedon affirmed otherwise: his soul, intellect and will are not swallowed up by his divine nature. Clearly, how we understand Jesus’ human nature has implications for how we understand his saving acts. A key question is thus: Since we both affirm the Nicene Creed and the Chalcedon clarification, do Roman Catholics have the same Christ, and the salvation he brings, as Evangelicals do? Yes, the same grammar, the same words. No, for many centuries leading Roman Catholic theologians have denied the full humanity of Christ, and thus have had to supplement his saving work. So John Calvin will state that Jesus of Nazareth, as presented in the Gospels, really was ignorant of some things, because he was truly human. But against that, the Roman Catholic theologian Robert Bellarmine asserted that because Jesus’ humanity was in personal unity with his deity, then anything he seems to have learned experientially, he must have already known in another way. And that affects how we ought to view Christ’s suffering. Bellarmine would allow that Christ could and did suffer in his body, but not in his whole soul. Other consequences follow this view of the relation between the divine and human, where the divine penetrates and divinises the human, at least in part. The Church is also seen as an intermingling of the divine and human, so the Priest is alter Christus (another Christ), who possesses Christ’s sacred power.
Against the “No” of Roman Catholic theology, and its partial divinisation of Jesus humanity, Johnston points out that Hebrews 5:8 states: “Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered.” Further, we may also consider Romans 8:3: The Father sent his “own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin” by which he condemned sin in the flesh. The context makes it clear that “likeness” here is not implying any “unlikeness”, but stressing real likeness, the same form as fallen human nature. The HCSB translation is helpful: “He condemned sin in the flesh by sending His own Son in flesh like ours under sin’s domain, and as a sin offering”. To save us, God did not create nor send a “superman”, but he acted entirely within our fallen situation. And it is that Son, incarnate, by his person, life and work, who has destroyed sin, death, and the devil.
Robbie Bellis’ chapter on the work of Christ mainly, and helpfully, focuses on the penal substitutionary nature of Christ’s death. His use of Isaiah 53 is not unhelpful, but in my view has two problems. First, in verses 4c and 5c, most English translations do not use the word “punish”, but “stricken” (4c) and “chastisement” (v 5c)—ESV. In the context of the Suffering Servant, “chastisement” can refer to God forming and directing his faithful servant, cf. Hebrews 5:8. Second, although the New Testament quotes Isaiah 53:3-5 about 5 times, it does not cite verse 4c and 5c. Better to establish a doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement from both OT and NT, not Isaiah 53 alone.
With respect to Roman Catholicism, although penal substitution was upheld until the middle of the 20th century, since then it has been denied in both formal statements of belief and individual writings. This denial has reinforced the Church’s long-standing teaching that salvation also requires the sinner to make satisfaction by works of penance, and that we are saved by sacramental participation, not by faith in Christ alone. Speaking then with our Catholic friends about the Nicene statement “who for us men and for our salvation… was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate,” we have an opportunity to point to and explain the New Testament’s teaching on penal substitutionary atonement for us.
With the same clarity and depth of analysis which characterises the earlier chapters, 7, 8, 9 and 10 cover the other doctrines affirmed in the Nicene Creed: The Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary, one holy, catholic and apostolic church, one baptism, the world to come.
Lauren J. Montenegro’s chapter on the Virgin Mary is especially worth close attention, for arguably both the content and place of Mariology in Roman Catholic belief and practice stands as the greatest obstacle to unity between Roman Catholics and Evangelicals. It effectively denies the Christ of the New Testament. Nicaea states concerning the Son of God: “by the power of the Holy Spirit he became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man.” But, over a 1700-year period, till 1950, four other key beliefs were articulated:
- Mary as the “Theotokos” (God-bearer): the belief that Mary is the mother of God.
- The perpetual virginity of Mary—that she remained a virgin before, during and after the birth of Christ.
- The immaculate conception of Mary: the belief that Mary herself was conceived without the stain of original sin.
- The assumption of Mary: because she was without the stain of original sin, Mary’s body and soul were assumed up into heaven at the end of her earthly life, and she didn’t suffer the corruption of the grave as a consequence of sin.
Aditionally, the “central premise of Mariology is that she was not fully revealed in Scripture but is being progressively revealed and discovered over time by the Roman Catholic Church.” In this way, Mary’s place in the creed and Roman practice has increased significantly. Mary as “Theotokos” (God bearer) does describe the reality of Jesus’ incarnation and was affirmed by both Martin Luther and John Calvin. But, said Calvin, the idolatrous veneration of the Virgin Mary characteristic then, and now, of Roman Catholic belief and practice, means we ought to be aware that Catholics might understand this title in a way that is different to that of orthodox Christology. It may indeed be the shape of that idolatrous veneration. “When Roman Catholics recite the creed, [they are] professing a belief in a Mary who is actively engaging in the world, who is to be venerated and prayed to, who was born without original sin, and who was assumed bodily into heaven.” In effect, if not in title, Mary has become a mediator between us and Christ. As a priest in France told Lauren Montenegro: “If you want something from Dad, the best way to get it is to go to Mum. Mum has Dad’s ear. Mum can twist Dad’s arm. He said it is the same with Mary.” That is not what Evangelicals mean or imply when they recite the Nicene Creed’s statement about Mary. Effectively, there is no unity possible on that clause.
In my opinion, the Roman Catholic understanding of the Creed—especially seen regarding the person of Jesus and the place given to Mary, and other saints—is a denial of the fundamental doctrines Nicaea affirms. The book of Hebrews, laying the foundation in chapters 1 and 2, teaches that Jesus Christ is indeed and in practice the perfect and sufficient Mediator between God the Father and us, poor, lost sinners. From God’s side, in chapter 1, he is fully God. In chapter 2, from our side, he is fully man—our elder brother, like us in every respect, but has conquered sin, for us. “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathise with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin (4:6)”. He prays for us at the right hand of the Father (Heb 7:25; Rom 8:34; Luke 22:31–32). When we pray, we are joining in his prayers. To place other “pray-ers”, other intercessors like the saints and Mary on our behalf to the Father, is to effectively deny who Jesus really is and what he has done.
Briefly, in closing, the chapter on the “one baptism” affirmed by Nicaea “for the forgiveness of sins” helpfully explains the difference between the Roman Catholic “causal” view of baptism by Priests, and the general Evangelical view that the ceremony of baptism is a sign pointing to the promise that we are saved by faith alone in Christ alone. That Christocentric emphasis can be further strengthened by observing that the only Christian baptism depicted in the Gospels is Jesus’ baptism, that is his death. “I have a baptism to be baptised with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished! (Luke 12:50; also Mark 10:38–40)”. In this, Jesus uses the word “baptism” in the metaphorical sense, well known in the wider use of Greek language, “to be overwhelmed.” Indeed, sailors who drowned at sea were said to be “baptised”, i.e. overwhelmed by water to death. Arguably, more than 50 percent of the use of the word in the New Testament is metaphorical, not primarily denoting a religious ceremony. So then, what saves, what is causal in our salvation? Not water baptism, but Jesus’ baptism on the cross (Rom 6:3–11).
It is the sheer poverty of understanding and applying the Christocentric witness of Scripture in Roman Catholic belief and practice that has trapped them, distanced them from what the Nicene Creed seeks to do, and ensnared them in a self-focused ignorance. This book well facilitates understanding this and speaking the truth in love. It offers us assistance to share “Jesus Christ, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Cor 1:30).
This review was originally published in the ACR’s Synod 2025 Journal.
You can buy the book from Matthias Media.