The Widening of God's Mercy

Yes, time for another book review, its only been a week or so since the last one here. Warning: I have a third review in this series coming up for the next blogpost.

My own attempts to do a bit of study leave work on "A Hermeneutic of Mercy" mean I must read and reflect on an important recent book, Christopher B. Hays and Richard B. Hays, The Widening of God's Mercy: Sexuality Within the Biblical Story, New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2024.

First big, personal question: does this book make my own project, to consider the Bible with a lens of mercy, redundant? Answer, No!

Second question, where does the title come from? The late Ron Smith, frequent commenter on this blog before his death, would have known the answer in an instant, for he often quoted here from Frederick William Faber's hymn in which these lines occur,

"There's a wideness in God's mercy like the wideness of the sea. // There's a kindness in God's justice which is more than liberty."

Third question - it might be your question - why did I use the word "important" to describe this book?

Well, what got a lot of people intrigued as the notice of the book's publication began to circulate, via their social media "facial/body language" (i.e. grunts and grimaces as expressed on social media), was that this son-and-father duo included a very well-known New Testament scholar, Richard B. Hays, and Richard Hays wrote a very famous, widely read and cited book, some thirty years back, on the New Testament and Christian morality: Richard B. Hays, The Moral Vision of the New Testament: Community, Cross, New Creation (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996). The importance of this book was that it cogently set out a "compassionate conservative" discussion on various issues of the day, faithful to Scipture, acceptable to a large part of the evangelical world. It was and is the kind of book one could mention in support of this or that position on an issue and not have your church colleagues or academic common room sisters and brothers think you had taken a turn for some kind of narrow fundamentalist dead end. On the particular question of same-sex partnerships, Richard Hays, in his 1996 book, opined that (to cite from the 2024 book's epilogue, p. 223) he rejected the possibility of a positive acceptance of same-sex partnerships, e.g. via analogy with the changes of heart and mind narrated in Acts 10-11 and Acts 15,

"in the light of the New Testament's few but emphatic statements - especially Romans 1:24-27 - that portray same-sex intercourse as a tragic distortion of the created order."

Thus, the present 2024 book would be important, whether it doubled down on Hay's 1996 view or proposed a change of view. The news flashes before the book was actually published indicated the book's importance would lie with the latter.

Before I go any further I want to acknowledge that Richard Hays has been a luminous New Testament scholar for many reasons - books and articles and conference addresses - and sadly he died at the beginning of this year, on 3 January 2025, after a long illness. What we are discussing here is his last book, and one he worked on through a period when his health was not good. (I am not familar with Christopher Hays' work but he is also a scholar of note, in Old Testament studies.)

So, Richard Hays changed his mind between 1996 and 2024, and some of the book sets out clearly and movingly why he changed his mind, and includes his apology for getting things wrong in 1996. Part of what he offers in these parts of the book is his surprise that what he wrote in 1996 in the hope it would generate wide and healthy discussion among his book's audience, as a starting point for reflection and, potentially, change, in the reality of its reception became a last word rather than a first word. The tendency among readers of the 1996 book became, "I believe the NT says this about same-sex partnerships and, look, none other than Richard B. Hays agrees with me" rather than "Hays has really dug deep into the matter of same-sex partnerships and because of what he has to say, there is a lot to open up for further discussion."

Obviously the consequential question about the 2024 book, The Widening of God's Mercy, is, "Does its conclusion about favourability towards same-sex partnerships have a sound basis?" A change of mind is one thing, but given the solidity of Richard Hays' scholarship in his 1996, it is reasonable to approach this 2024 book with high expectations of a very sound basis for the now changed conclusion reached.

Below in a postscript I note a number of reviews I have read on the internet - some of them highlight significant possibilities that the basis is not as sound as one might expect. In fact, I have my own concerns, even if I am inclined to head more towards where Hays and Hays end up than those reviewers.

First up, there is quite an emphasis on God changing God's mind as a significant feature in the Bible, especially in the Old Testament, and one which should prise open our minds to the possibility of God changing God's mind (and thus we changing our minds) on the matter of same-sex partnerships.

I find this a curious line within the arguments of the book. Yes, God is reported as changing his mind in story after story in the Old Testament but there is a lot to unpack theologically (which I don't see Hays and Hays doing) as well as exegetically (as they do). "Changing one's mind" is a very human thing to do, and reporting God as changing God's mind makes God all too human, which is fine as far as story telling goes - a little anthropomorphism never underplayed dramatic moments in the divine drama - but prompts big theological questions given that one fine way to describe God in all God's Godness is "the Absolute", "the Uncaused Cause", "the Rock" - "the Immoveable Mover" and so forth. What kind of god is the "God Whom We Make Much of Changing God's Mind" (per the Hayses' book)? Quite possibly that God is not the God of Jesus Christ - the God, that is, who works through history on a determined and unchanging plan (see Ephesians 1). Further, God changing God's mind could work more than one way: Hays and Hays think God has changed his mind on same-sex partnerships, in a merciful, accepting of those partnerships direction. But what if the same God changes his mind back again?

Secondly, there is a strong emphasis on the widening of God's mercy to include ever more groups of people, aptly summarised towards the end of the book, p. 214, in this way:

"Third, and most decisively, the vision that informs this book rhymes  with the Bible’s pervasive portrayals of God’s ever-expanding mercy. To put this in more technical theological language: The acceptance of sexual minorities in the church re-enacts a narrative pattern that is pervasive in the Bible. There is a powerful analogy, a metaphorical correspondence, between the embrace of LGBTQ people and God’s previously unexpected embrace of foreigners, eunuchs, “tax collectors and sinners,” gentiles, and people with conflicting convictions about food laws and calendrical observances."

But this approach does not touch a pretty standard conservative objection to acceptance of same-sex partnerships, that they are sinful, and so, although God loves LGBTQ people and wishes to accept them into the household of faith, they must repent of sin, like expectations of all other people groups - eunuchs, gentiles, tax collectors (noting the repentance of Zacchaeus) and other sinners.

So, two pretty big objections to the ways the arguments in this book proceed. Is there something to like, to note as a strength or strengths? I think there is.

Let's start with an observation towards the end of the book, p. 220:

"Ultimately, the meaning of scripture is shaped by its reception in communities of faith."

Is it not the case that in many communities of faith - not all by any means - there is an understanding of LGBTQ people and of scripture (especially its themes of mercy and justice, of not judging and of reckoning with the speck in my own eye etc) which judges that the meaning of scripture is that there is a place for LGBTQ people in the household of faith, including those in same-sex partnerships. Whether or not arguments are good, bad or indifferent towards this conclusion about inclusion, communities of faith are shaping how they see scripture on this issue of our day. To be sure, Hays and Hays support this direction of travel, but might they have made more of the reception of scripture and less of (say) God changing God's mind? That is, might more have been made of how the reception of Scripture by communities of faith has led to change in the collective mind of such communities? The obvious example here is slavery. The Bible gives no indication that God has changed God's mind on slavery (as a tolerated institution in various societies) but since the mid nineteenth century and the abolition of slavery in the USA, no Christian community today thinks slavery is a good thing. To be sure, Hays and Hays do reflect on the change of disposition to slavery by churches. My question is whether more might have been made of this and less of God changing God's mind.

If so then they could also have made more of something they do say about the presence of LGBTQ Christians in the church today, p. 212:

"Second, in many cases where the church has changed its understanding of God’s will, the impetus for change has come from careful and compassionate attention to human experience. Why have we rejected slavery? Because we see the suffering it causes, its cruelty and contradiction  of human wholeness. Why have many churches rejected the subordination of women to me and supported their full inclusion in church leadership? Because we see in our experience the arbitrary way in which it denies and stifles the evident gifts and graces of half the human race. For many the evidence of experience outweighs the inertia of tradition and the force of a few biblical prooftexts on these questions. In the same way, we see LGBTQ Christians all around us who are already contributing their gifts and graces to the work of God in the world and in the church.

When we form moral judgments, we inevitably and rightly pay attention to the evidence of experience. With regard to human sexuality, we have seen over the past generation a cumulatively increasing body of evidence that sexual orientation is (in a way that remains mysterious) deeply ingrained in individuals and not susceptible to change. And for human beings in general, the wisdom of Genesis 2:18 applies, regardless of sexual orientation: It is not good that we should be alone. Some individuals may have a special vocation to celibacy, but that cannot be imposed as a blanket requirement on an entire class of humans."

Two things are important in these paragraphs. First, that for many communities of faith reshaping the meaning of scripture, an impetus is recognition of "the gifts and graces" given by God to the LGBTQ Christians in their midst. Secondly, if we conclude that sexual orientation is "not susceptible to change" does that make a difference to how we interpret scripture in relation to LGBTQ Christians in our communities of faith, because, to take up something else also mentioned, "It is not good that we should be alone" (Genesis 2:18)? In what way(s) do we who read scripture responsibly and with a view to acting mercifully and justly, offer a way forward for Genesis 2:18 to mean something for LGBTQ Christians? I suggest Hays and Hays could have made more of these considerations.

Finally (at least for now - there is, I think, more to say in the book I am writing), Hays and Hays are on the right track to talk about God's ever widening mercy. In the words of one of the most beautiful prayers of all time, the Prayer of Humble Access, God is the God "whose nature is always to have mercy." 

One of the great strengths of a truly great book, Reading Genesis by Marilynn Robinson, is the way it brings out God's consistent mercy: Adam and Eve sin, but do not die; Cain murders Abel, but he may not be killed; humanity is dire, but survives the Flood via Noah and his family; Abraham and Sarah lack faith in God, but God persists with them; Jacob supplants Esau but God can work with Jacob; Joseph's brothers are very badly behaved towards Joseph, but Joseph forgives them - anticipating Christ himself - because the brothers do not know what they are doing. Scripture just keeps going like that: God is merciful and true, compassionate and just all the way through the Old Testament. Christ comes into the world, full of grace and truth - of course, because God's mercy sends Jesus into the world, to make a way for we sinners to be made just. That mercy, strongly present in the OT, especially in Isaiah (as Hays and Hays repeatedly point out), is expressed in the NT, and in fulfilment of OT prophecies, with the extension of God's love from Israel outwards into the whole world and including all people, Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free, men and women. God is more merciful that we can imagine; we have less imagination than the imagination which would fully understand how merciful God is.

Now, if I do not think Hays and Hays have got the connection between "mercy" and "LGBTQ Christians" correct, I do think they are correct that there is a connection. It is part of the purpose of my beyond-blog writing to explore that connection. So, no more from me for now on that connection!

Postscript:

Incidentally, if you want some "proper" book reviews, there is no shortage of them on the internet, some by considerable names in the realm of scholarship on biblical sexuality, and these are them which I found in a recent search:

https://reformedjournal.com/2024/10/30/the-widening-of-gods-mercy-by-christopher-b-hays-and-richard-b-hays/ by Ryan Boes

https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/reviews/widening-gods-mercy/ by Rebecca McLaughlin

https://www.centerforfaith.com/blog/review-of-the-widening-of-god-s-mercy-by-christopher-b-hays-and-richard-b-hays by Preston Sprinkle

https://freethinkingministries.com/the-widening-of-gods-mercy-book-review/ by Josh Klein

https://cbmw.org/2024/08/28/a-review-of-the-widening-of-gods-mercy-sexuality-within-the-biblical-story-by-christopher-b-hays-and-richard-b-hays/ by Thomas Schreiner

https://theaquilareport.com/the-widening-of-gods-mercy-sexuality-within-the-biblical-story-fails-as-serious-study/ by Robert A.J. Gagnon

https://www.livingout.org/resources/posts/227/is-gods-mercy-wide-enough-for-me by Andrew Bunt

https://hermeneutrix.com/2024/10/10/on-gods-widening-mercy/ by Heather Anne Thiessen

https://outreach.faith/2024/10/book-on-bible-and-sexuality-long-on-mercy-but-short-on-scholarship/ by Fr Joseph R. Upton

Hint: every review above by a "conservative evangelical" is a negative review.

Primatial Statement of Solidarity on Gaza Church Strike [18 July 2025]

The Archbishops of the Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia 

18 July 2025 

Primatial Statement of Solidarity on Gaza Church Stike 

The Gospel reminds us that God's love is generous and without limit. Jesus showed us how to love deeply and sacrificially, and we are called to follow in his footsteps, caring for others and standing together in unity. 

This morning, that call feels more urgent than ever. In Gaza, the Holy Family Church and the only Catholic church in the region, was struck by a tank shell. Three lives were lost. Several others were wounded, including the parish priest, Father Gabriel Romanelli. 

This comes in the same week as the killing of Dr Ahmad Qandil, a dedicated surgeon at Al Ahli Anglican Hospital. This is the eighth time Al Ahli’s staA or facilities have been hit.  

So today, we stand in solidarity. We mourn with our Catholic brothers and sisters. We remember the more than 1,500 healthcare workers who have died since the conflict began, and the countless lives lost in both Palestine and Israel. 

In the midst of this devastation, Archbishop Hosam Naoum of the Anglican Diocese of Jerusalem reminds us that faith can endure, even through suffering. 

Speaking recently at the Church of England’s General Synod, he painted a sobering picture: “Medical supplies are in short supply. The food distribution system is horrifying, with three sites open one hour a day for two million people. It looks to me like the Hunger Games.” 

He was clear about what is needed: “Advocacy is urgently needed for Israel’s adherence to the Geneva Conventions, as its current practices are unacceptable.” He called for “no bombing of hospitals, lifting of the siege, restoration of humanitarian supplies, including food and medicine, under UN supervision, no targeting of civilians, especially emergency workers and medical staA and the release of all hostages and captives.”  

We invite you to join us in prayer, in advocacy, in generosity. Speak to your local Member of Parliament. Support Anglican Missions appeals. And let us, together, be a people who choose compassion, justice and love in the face of suffering. 

May we all follow the path of God’s eternal love. 

Archbishop Don Tamihere Primate & Archbishop

Archbishop Sione Ulu’ilakepa Primate & Archbishop 

Archbishop Justin Duckworth Primate & Archbishop                    

The Anglican Church in Aotearoa, New Zealand and Polynesia  

Te Hāhi Mihinare ki Aotearoa, ki Niu Tīreni, ki Ngā Moutere o te Moana Nui a Kiwa

I post this statement, made Friday 18 July 2025, today, Saturday 19 July 2025 in lieu of a post on Monday 21 July 2025. Peter.

PRAY FOR PEACE, FOR JUSTICE, FOR HEALING, FOR AN END TO VIOLENCE AS A WAY TO ATTEMPT TO SOLVE ANY SITUATION IN THE MIDDLE EAST.

It doesn't get much better than this

Recently Teresa and I had an opportunity to travel in South Westland. We set off at the end of a week of wild weather and wondered whether we would strike snow or slips on the road or both. To our immense and very pleasant surprise, we woke up in Fox Glacier township to a perfect blue sky day with not a breathe of wind.

That meant we were able to visit nearby Lake Matheson with reasonable expectations of the picture postcard view that lake is famous for, as illustrated by a photo I was able to take:

For most of that morning, touring around the Fox Glacier district, we were constantly in view of snow capped mountains, in particular the two highest mountains in NZ, Tasman (on left in photo) and Aoraki/Cook (on right). The combination of snow capped mountains in the background and bush shrouded hill and grassed lowlands is unparalleled in beauty elsewhere in NZ (in my humble opinion). 

We were blessed!

And the day continued in that vein as we drove southwards towards the fabled land of Haast, with its mighty and outstandingly picturesque rivers (Haast, Waiatoto and Arawhata [photo above]) and reached the literal end of the West Coast road at Jacksons Bay. Perfect sunshine, zero cloud, no wind. It doesn't get much better than that.

We were blessed!

Life seems incredibly simple on such a day and in such an environment. God created the earth and the sun, life is glorious, enjoyable and straightforward.

Of course, that is not all there is to life. As we left the Haast, driving up to Haast Pass to reach our central Otago abode for the night, we headed into overcast weather and incredible cold the next morning just 3 degrees C, without any mitigating sunshine! Back in Jacksons Bay, we read how the first European settlers there, lured by the promise of land and a new life on it, found the going treacherous and so difficult, that within three or four years, all but four families had left the place to find an actually better life in other parts of NZ. Haast on a sunny day betrays no clues that it is one of the wettest places in NZ! Nor that over the Pass might be clouded coldness.

Also, of course, while we had a glorious day last weekend, the global mayhem of our day, with its continuing slaughter of innocent civilians, including children, was as persistent as the rain on most other days in South Westland.

Is there hope amidst the dark cloudy weather of our disputatious and dangerous day?

While travelling, I have been reading a fascinating book by Lamorna Ash, Don't Forget We're Here Forever: A New Generation's Search for Religion (Bloomsbury, 2025) - available, when I return it, later this week, from the Theology House Library, Christchurch.

Lamorna is a c. 30 young woman, exploring love and life (bisexually), as a journalist and writer, whose search for meaning and order to life prompts her to seek out a variety of Christians and Christian experiences (for instance: a Christianity Explained course, spiritual retreats, frequenting Quaker services, settling into a north London Cofe parish) - her journalistic endeavours being and becoming part of an intensely personal spiritual quest and, ultimately, transformative encounter with Christ.

"I know you don't need religion to keep awake [alert to what is happening - contrast the disciples falling asleep in Gethsemane], or to be a good person - often the opposite is true. But I think I might need it for that. I think I might need the ritual of Sunday worship to discover the courage to become the version of myself I would like to be.

I choose to hold my nerve. I choose to become a Christian with my scepticism about organised religion intact, ... I believe I come closest to knowing something of God in my interactions with other people, the people I love, the strangers I meet. It's not a thin place. It's my church, in my city and I want to stay here, where heaven is right in reach. ... I believe the God of the religion which is my heritage might have come down to Earth as a man 2000 years ago to walk alongside us and help us with our terrible pain because I cannot think of a more beautiful story for how a god might behave" (pp. 290-91).

In part the significance of Lamorna's book is not only about her own journey but the current - green shoots appearing - drift in the UK away from secularization of society towards God, even towards "organized religion":

"What I have noticed is that the people around me, my awkward generation, just now on our way out of youth, have started discussing faith more seriously than we once did" (p. 288).

Life is beautiful. Life is complex and frustrating. There is hope. We all need to find the most beautiful story of God coming to Earth to walk alongside us to help us become who we are meant to be. 

A Hermeneutic of Mercy?

For the remainder of this month, and then again from early-ish September to mid November, I am on study leave, attempting to dig deeper into the topic of "a hermeneutic of mercy", picking up some work long ago begun, much on pause through my time as Bishop of Christchurch.

That is, I am interested in the question of how we interpret the Bible (i.e. "hermeneutic") in a manner which is merciful, with reference, obviously, to some of the challenging questions of our times, questions in which churches have offered various interpretations, often deemed "conservative" or "liberal/progressive", with resulting disputes within those churches and even division and schism breaking up such churches.

In recent years, for instance - and it has been a very public instance - Pope Francis has offered various thoughts ex cathedra [later correction: ok, so not, "ex cathedra" meaning formal statements of infallible dogma, but definitely meaning, "the Pope, the one who sits on the cathedra of the Bishop of Rome, has spoken, so a much bigger deal than your local bishop or parish priest or favoured Catholic philosopher such as Edward Feser speaking") albeit perhaps standing in a plane, chatting to journalists travelling with him, or otherwise "off the cuff" (or, seemingly so ... he was very skillful re how he communicated!) which opened up a "liberal/progressive" yet Catholic view on matters of the day, with consequential reaction from quarters of the global Catholic church described, at least by journalists, as "conservative". Hence a sigh of relief - for many Catholics - that Pope Leo seems to be walking a more delicate line: no off the cuff remarks; no pushing the boundaries of what might be just within the edges of Catholic doctrine (or might not); and yet, a sense of anxiety - for some Catholics - is a more open-minded Franciscan church to be closed in?

Time will tell, and I do not expect Pope Leo to be influenced by whatever I may end up being able to publish!

In mentioning the much played out in world media of Catholic hermeneutical drama in recent years, I am well aware that other churches can be mentioned: in no particular order of (de)merit, and with no attempt to be comprehensive:

- Russian Orthodox church: "pro Putin" v pro peace

- Southern Baptists: women (not) in leadership in the church

- various churches: Christian nationalism v issues such as approaches to immigration ... funding international aid ... collaboration among nations towards peace between nations

- Anglican Communion: continuing dissonance over same-sex relationships (major) and ordination of women (minor) ... noting that both matters are having a role - it would appear - in who might be the next ABC

- back to the Roman Catholic church: recently a priest in the UK refused to give communion to a (Catholic) MP who voted for the recently passed (n the House of Commons) euthanasia law raising multiple questions re "mercy" in respect of life itself, and at the communion rail (when sin is unrepented of).

Naturally I have no particular confidence in my ability to solve all hermeneutical issues currently bubbling away in the meeting places of Christians, let alon the ones which literally are close to actions in which people are being killed.

Neverthless, what greater topic for Christian study than, What is truth? A hermeneutic of mercy is about checking in that we understand the Christian Scriptures correctly, in this time and in these places of controversy.

Green shoots of growth?

Quite a lot of talk these days, following a UK Bible Society report, The Quiet Revival, of green shoots of church growth in the Western world. Also quite a lot of summarising of the report which could be put like this, from an Anglican perspective.

There is a quiet revival emerging. Noticeably, men are becoming Christians.

Good news: they are drawn to Pentecostalism and Roman Catholicism (perhaps especially its most conservative, ritual forms).

Bad news: Anglicans miss out.

!!!

OK, so that is the UK, what about NZ?

Anecdotally, e.g. as church leaders discuss this report and then ask ourselves, any signs hereabouts?, we do see signs of growth in the Pentecostal churches and in the Roman Catholic churches (at this point, talking about Kiwis converting, while acknowledging other growth through migrants to NZ joining congregational life).

Even in the Anglican Diocese of Christchurch, I see some signs of men being drawn to our most Catholic expression of being Anglican, as well as to our most Pentecostal expressions of being Anglican.

Still, early days and all that!

On Friday and Saturday an ecumenical (albeit Protestant) conference was held in Christchurch, called "Little Revolutions", a conference focused on church planting as a way of growing the church, which featured a variety of speakers for plenary and workshop sessions, and which included reflections on both the state of the play re church statistics/belief statistics and [wonderful!] stories and testimonies of God bringing new people into churches and/or new churches starting up.

I wasn't able to get to all the conference but what I was able to get to was encouraging - there are green shoots hereabouts - and, perhaps this is most important, there are some amazing, enthusiastic and talented younger generation church leaders who are intent on contributing to the growth of people who love Jesus and gather together to praise God (= the church!).

There are definitely green shoots of hope in God here and now!

Not another sermon!

This week you are spared from reading another one of my sermons, but there is something my sermon prep for Sunday morning brought up which is quite interesting relative to last week's posting of my "Nicaea" sermon.

Comments to that sermon challenged the notion that everything about Trinitarian development in theology are good; and one comment highlighted the ground the church is yet to take up in becoming a truly "eco-church" or the church which connects with a forefront of younger generations' minds and hearts: saving our planet while we can. Thank you!

This afternoon as I write, President Trump has announced the US B-2 bombers have bombed targets in Iran, including the Fordow or "main" site re uraniuam enrichment. People seeking food in Gaza are still being killed. Iranian rockets fall on Israel, Israeli missiles fall on Iran. Ukraine remains a drone killing field. As we in Aotearoa New Zealand celebrate Matariki this weekend, we are painfully reminded that celebrating the return of Matariki - the return of some forms of light to lead us forward after the shortest day - is taking place in a world of darkness and pain.

The gospel reading for this morning, if celebrating Ordinary 12 rather than Te Pouhere [Constitution] Sunday, has been Luke 8:26-39, in its own particular way a story of darkness giving way to light, the man filled with demons becoming the man who is clothed, sitting at the feet of Jesus, in his right mind and eager to be with Jesus - a model disciple.

At the end of the story is this interesting anticipation of Trinitarian development, of the church wrestling with "who" Jesus is in relation to God and "who" God is in relation to Jesus ... and it is not from John's Gospel:

But Jesus sent him away, saying: "Go back home and tell what God has done for you."

The man went through the town, telling what Jesus had done for him.

Luke introduces us to the possibility of thinking that God is met in Jesus, in his teaching and in his powerful actions; and that when we meet Jesus, we encounter God.

A Sermon in Celebration of the Council of Nicaea

Over recent months a group of Christchurch church leaders (Te Raranga) have been working on an ecumenical service to celebrate the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. The service was held last night at 5 pm, 15 June and I had the honour of preaching. I had decided that this week's blogpost would be the sermon's text ... and then a flurry of comments to last week's post came in. My sermon may or may not settle any disputes therein!

Sermon Trinity Sunday 15 June 2025 1700 Anniversary of the Council of Nicaea

Ecumenical Service in the Transitional Cathedral, Christchurch

Recording of service here

Readings: John 17:20-23 (read in Te Reo), Ephesians 4:1-6

Greetings to all! Thank you to Te Raranga for organising the service. Thank you to the cathedral staff, volunteers, musicians and choir for hosting the service.

We have come together for Kotahitanga (our unity), Whakapono (our formation in the faith) and Taonga (celebration of a precious gift).

Who is this person or being – Jesus Christ - who prays, according to our Gospel of John reading:

“so that they may be one, as we are one” (kia kotahi ai ratou, me taua nei hoki he Kotahi)

and also talks about God the Father

“so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” (kia whakapono ai te ao, nau ahau I tono mai)?

John’s Gospel stands out within the New Testament writings for presenting the man Jesus of Nazareth as Jesus the Christ sent from God who is simultaneously the Son of God in a relationship of identity and union with God the Father.

What were the first Christians to make of this presentation, this revelation of who Jesus is, in relation to us, his colleagues in humanity, and in relation to God, his colleague (co-equal, co-participant) in divinity?

That question rumbled its way through the 2^nd and 3rd centuries of the Christian era.

Nick Page, writing in Premier Christianity, offers a slightly racy version of what happened at the beginning of the fourth century: [https://www.premierchristianity.com/features/an-idiots-guide-to-the-council-of-niceas-big-posh-creed-of-compromise/19332.article ]

“We start in Alexandria, Egypt in AD 318. … … a priest called Arius has had a thought: if Jesus is the Son of God then, logically, he has to be younger than the Father. That, after all, is the key thing about sons: they tend to be a lot younger than their dads. And didn’t Paul describe Jesus as “the firstborn over all creation” (Colossians 1:15)? If that is true, Arius reasoned, there must have been a time before Jesus was born. 

A highly effective communicator, Arius began to spread his ideas, not only through preaching but simple songs. According to his opponents, he even coined a slogan:

“there was, when he was not” (ie there was a time before Jesus).”

“Arius was not suggesting Jesus wasn’t God; just, perhaps, that he wasn’t quite as ‘goddy’ as God was. And while many welcomed his ideas, many more found them alarming.

If Arius was right, then would it not imply that the Son was inferior – or subordinate – to the Father? What does that do to the Trinity?

John’s Gospel said that Jesus was the Word, eternally present with the Father, through whom all things were created (1:1-3), but Arius’ theories struck at the very heart of Jesus’ divinity.”

“The argument flared into a bitter, factional dispute. Arius was condemned and dismissed from his post. But other parts of the Eastern Church supported him. The anger grew so bad that, eventually, emperor Constantine I intervened.

In AD 325, he announced that he would call the first-ever ecumenical – ie ‘worldwide’ – Council of Bishops.

It would meet towards the end of May, in the city of Nicaea (modern Iznik in Turkey). Together, the bishops would come up with a logical, clear, universally acceptable definition of Jesus Christ.”

So, between 250 and 300 bishops attended, most from the east; only a few from the west. And the emperor, Constantine, presided over the council or synod – the first ecumenical or worldwide council of the church of God. Kotahitanga at Nicaea!

Incidentally, the Council of Nicaea did make some decisions other than creedal ones, especially in regard to canons governing our life as church, some of which are still observed today.

But, tonight, 1700 years later, I will concentrate our attention on the creedal character of the council.

Now most, if not all of us here have been to synods, conferences and councils of the church where we have done our human best to keep all present in the same tent of roughly common conviction, crafting amendments to motions so some kind of healthy compromise is reached.

A bit of that happened but a full compromise between Arians and others was not the work of this council. Nicaea was decisive.

The creed at that council said:

“We believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of all things both visible and invisible; and continued for a few paragraphs in words we are familiar with …

And in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten from the Father, only-begotten, that is, from the substance of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten not made, of one substance with the Father, through whom all things came into being, both things in heaven and things on earth,

Who because of us men and because of our salvation came down, and became incarnate and became man, and suffered, and rose again on the third day, and ascended to the heavens, and will come to judge the living and dead,

And in the Holy Spirit.

So far so good to those of us familiar with the later version of this creed which is known as The Nicene Creed. But then we hit this, which is both decisive and exclusive:

“The catholic and apostolic Church anathematises [ie condemns] those who say, “There was when he was not,” and, “He was not before he was begotten,” and that he came to be from nothing, or those who claim that the Son of God is from another hypostasis or substance, (or created,) or alterable, or mutable.”

Here then is the key innovation at Nicaea. A stake in the ground for the Whakapono of the church.

God the Son, according to the creed, is “of one substance” (the Greek is the famous word, homoousion) with the Father. Here substance could be “being” or “nature.”

Nick Page again: “Jesus is both distinct from the Father, but also the same. He is equal in the Trinity, true God from true God. … Begotten, yes, but not made. Not created.” 

Thus, a specific line in what we call orthodox Christianity – the orthodoxy of both eastern and western Christianity was established.

Theological disputes would rumble on through more centuries and further ecumenical councils, especially around precision of language about Jesus as both human & divine.

What we now call the Nicene Creed developed through expanding river, then future councils shaped and smoothed from it the distinctive Taonga which is the Nicene Creed.

So, tonight we neither recite the original Nicene Creed, nor do we curse any Arians present in our midst. 

What are we celebrating after 1700 years? What role could and should the Nicene Creed as we know it play in the life of the church of God in 2025?

Ephesians 4:1-6, after all, speaks challengingly to us as we celebrate an ecumenical council of the church, because Paul talks to us as church and urges that we are

“making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Our three themes tonight are: Kotahitanga. Whakapono. Taonga.

[i.e. we reflect on the Creed as a unifying confession, a tool for spiritual formation, and a precious gift from the church of the past to the church of the future.]

Kotahitanga: we may or may not ever resolve the differences between church denominations; but we can and must live into and develop what we have in common, what binds us together as followers of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God. Nicaea highlights what we do believe together. Let’s bind ourselves afresh to the Nicene Creed (understanding unresolved differences between east and west) and at least in this way, make every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

Whakapono: it is easy to recite the creed as a matter of rote, words we say with out lips while our minds dwell on what we are going to have for lunch or for supper. But the content of the creed is the content of our faith. It is the most concise window we have into who the God is whom we adore, pray to, follow and listen to. Let what we believe form us as followers of Christ. Let’s live faithfully in the faith the creed summarises for us.

Taonga: it has been a fashion in some recent decades to diminish the importance of the Nicene Creed. Theologians question whether we can still believe such things about God. Liturgists planning worship may see the Apostles’ Creed – it has fewer words - as a route to a shorter service. In some forms of free form worship, saying the creed is a funny old thing to do in contemporary culture, so it is quietly dropped.

Might we have a new appreciation, for the creed as a taonga, a gift from the past to hold us to the true faith, to focus our minds on the true meaning of the revelation of God the Trinity in Scripture?

Might we see the creed not as words we have to say but a window into the truth of who God is?

Might we say or sing the creed as words of worship to the true and living God?

Might the creed be a celebration of who we are in Christ?