Athanasius against the world
The Arian crisis
In the fourth century the church was thrown into a question that went all the way to the bottom: was Jesus Christ truly God, or the highest of created things? A teaching named for the presbyter Arius answered that the Son had a beginning, that there was a time before He was, that He was made and not eternal. The Council of Nicaea in 325 rejected it and confessed the Son as of one being with the Father. But a council does not settle a heart, and Arianism did not die. It surged back through bishops and emperors and synods until, by one later account, the whole world groaned to find itself Arian. Standing against that tide, often almost alone, was Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria. He held to the full deity of Christ through five exiles, driven from his see again and again as the political winds shifted, refusing to soften the confession to suit the powers of the day. So fierce was his isolation that a phrase attached itself to him across the centuries: Athanasius against the world. To watch the majority of the church embrace what you are sure is error, and to stand in a battered minority for the truth, is one of the church's recurring wildernesses.
“The time will come when they will not listen to the sound doctrine, but, having itching ears, will heap up for themselves teachers after their own lusts.”
— Paul, to Timothy — 2 Timothy 4:3 (WEB)
“Contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints.”
This is Disorientation in a particular form: the bewilderment of watching much of the church embrace what you are sure is error, and standing in a faithful minority. The phase asks not for bravado but for honesty and endurance, the willingness to hold the truth carefully when the numbers run against you, trusting that majorities do not define it.
It is one of the loneliest disorientations there is: to hold to something you believe is true while nearly everyone around you drifts the other way. The doubt that comes is not mainly about the matter at hand. It is about yourself. Surely, you think, the majority cannot all be wrong; surely so many sincere people cannot be mistaken; surely the lonely position is the proud one. Athanasius lived decades inside that exact pressure, exiled and outnumbered, and history vindicated the battered minority, not the confident crowd. But truth is not finally decided by a show of hands.
This is not a license for stubbornness, or for mistaking your every opinion for the faith once delivered; Athanasius contended for the deity of Christ, not for his own preferences, and he did it with argument and Scripture, not mere defiance. But when you have weighed it honestly and the conviction holds, do not let the size of the crowd against you become the proof that you are wrong. Contend, humbly and carefully, for what was once for all delivered to the saints, even when you feel like the last one standing.
Whole regions of the Church can embrace error at once, leaving the faithful disoriented and outnumbered and unsure whether the majority could really be mistaken. The Arian crisis is the sobering proof: by one later account the whole world groaned to find itself Arian, with bishops and emperors and synods carried on the tide. Athanasius is the encouragement. God preserved the deity of Christ through a battered minority who would not bend the confession to suit the powers of the day. The truth was not settled by counting heads. Before a watching world the whole Church learns from such seasons that majorities do not define the faith once delivered, and that He can keep it alive in the few when the many have let it go.
When councils waver and the crowd turns and the faithful are few, the deity of Christ does not flicker. What cannot be shaken is the truth itself, held by God whether or not the age holds it. The Son who is of one being with the Father remains exactly who He is.
- Where am I tempted to abandon a conviction simply because so many around me have let it go?
- Have I confused contending for the faith once delivered with defending my own preferences?
- Can I hold to the truth with both courage and humility when I feel like the last one standing?
Lord, it is lonely to hold what I believe You have said when the crowd has moved the other way, and I start to doubt myself before I doubt them. Steady me. Let me contend for Your truth with courage and with humility, and keep me from mistaking stubbornness for faith. Amen.