Christian History: Who was Arius?




  • Arius was a early Christian figure from Alexandria, known for his teachings that Jesus Christ was created and not co-eternal with God the Father.
  • His ideas challenged the doctrine of the Trinity, leading to widespread debate and division within the early Church, culminating in the Council of Nicaea which condemned Arianism.
  • The Nicene Creed was established to affirm the full divinity of Christ, emphasizing phrases such as “begotten, not made” and “of one substance with the Father.”
  • Arius’s death on the eve of his reinstatement to the Church sparked dramatic accounts seen by many as divine judgment against his teachings, raising questions about the nature of historical narratives and biases.

Understanding Arius: A Journey Through Early Church History

Every story has a beginning, and I want you to know that to understand a remarkable figure like Arius, it’s so helpful to picture the world he stepped into. Imagine a world brimming with ancient wisdom, bustling cities full of life, and a faith that was, believe it or not, still finding its fullest, most powerful voice. His life and his teachings became a truly pivotal moment for the early Church. It was a time of great challenge, yes it was also a time of incredible clarity, a time when God was about to do something amazing!

Who Was Arius, and What Was His Early Life Like in Ancient Alexandria?

Arius, a name that would echo through history, stepped onto the world’s stage around the year 250 or 256 A.D..¹ his journey began, most likely, in a place called Ptolemais in Cyrenaica. Think of it as a region that’s now part of modern-day Libya in North Africa, a land then under the vast and mighty Roman Empire.² We know his father’s name was Ammonius, and Arius himself, interestingly, was of Berber descent.² This North African heritage is so important, because this area was like a fertile garden for early Christian thought, producing so many influential thinkers who would shape the future.

When it came to his education, it’s widely believed, and this is a blessing, that Arius studied theology under a truly respected scholar and priest, a man named Lucian of Antioch.² Lucian was known for his deep emphasis on a literal understanding of the Bible, and some ancient writers even suggested that Lucian’s teachings, perhaps unintentionally, laid a kind of foundation for the ideas that would later become known as Arianism.³ This connection is key because it suggests Arius’s theological direction wasn’t just plucked out of thin air; it was shaped by his early training, showing his ideas had intellectual roots.

Descriptions of Arius paint a picture of a tall man, often with a thoughtful, somewhat downcast expression. He dressed simply, in a short cloak and a sleeveless tunic – a man of humility in his appearance.² He was known for his gentle way of speaking, and people found him persuasive, even captivating.² A really major part of his life was his commitment to asceticism. That’s a lifestyle of strict self-discipline and simplicity, choosing to forego worldly pleasures for the sake of spiritual growth and drawing closer to God.² He built a reputation for having pure morals and incredibly strong, unwavering convictions.² And while some of his opponents later attacked his character fiercely, others had to acknowledge his personal discipline.² This persuasive nature, combined with a lifestyle that many admired, likely made his teachings more attractive to some. He wasn’t initially seen as some wild radical as a devout and thoughtful individual. This helps us understand how his distinctive views began to find an audience, how God can use even our unique personalities.

Around the year 313 A.D., Arius took on the important role of presbyter, which is like an elder or priest, in the Baucalis district of Alexandria, Egypt.² And let me tell you, this was no small thing! Baucalis was a prominent church in one of the most major cities of the Roman world. Alexandria was a vibrant, multicultural metropolis – a true melting pot where Greek, Egyptian, and Jewish cultures mingled with a Christian community that was growing by leaps and bounds.⁵ It was a major hub for learning, philosophy, and trade. Leading a prominent church in such an influential city gave Arius a major platform, a stage for his ideas, in a place where grand concepts were regularly discussed and debated. God often places people in strategic places for a reason!

It’s truly fascinating to consider that while Arius’s teachings ultimately led to what the guided by the Holy Spirit, deemed a radical departure from truth, some scholars suggest that Arius might have seen himself as a “theological conservative”.² He may have genuinely believed he was protecting what he considered a fundamental truth: the absolute uniqueness and transcendence of God the Father. This perspective suggests his motivations might have been rooted in a desire to preserve a core aspect of God’s majesty, even if his conclusions about the nature of Christ were found to be deeply flawed. This paints a more complex picture of Arius than just a simple villain; it shows how someone can begin with a seemingly orthodox concern, a desire to honor God, and yet arrive at problematic conclusions if certain principles are emphasized to the exclusion of others. The power of his personality and his persuasive speaking, coupled with his ascetic life, were also likely major factors in his ability to gather followers.² The messenger, in this case, played a crucial role in the initial spread of the message – a timeless reminder for all of us of how charisma and perceived piety can influence how theological ideas are received.

What Did Arius Teach About Jesus That Stirred the Early Church?

Imagine a teaching that, to some, sounded like it was lifting up and protecting the supreme greatness of God to others, it appeared to diminish the very person of our Savior, Jesus Christ. This was the heart of what Arius taught, and let me tell you, it sent shockwaves, like tremors, through the early Christian world. It prompted deep reflection, passionate debate, and a stirring in the hearts of believers everywhere!

At the very core of Arius’s teaching was this idea: that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was not co-eternal with God the Father.¹ Instead, he proposed something different, that the Son was created by God the Father before time itself began.⁷ One of his most famous statements, a phrase that really captured this belief, was: “If the Father begat the Son, then he who was begotten had a beginning in existence, and from this it follows there was a time when the Son was not”.⁷ He went on to explain that “Before he was begotten or created or appointed or established, he did not exist; for he was not unbegotten”.⁸ Arius believed with all his heart that the Son was brought into existence “out of nothing” or “from non-being”.⁹ this was a powerful departure, a real shift, from the growing understanding within the Church that Jesus, as the Son of God, shared the Father’s eternal divine nature. Arius’s view, in effect, placed Jesus in the category of a “creature,” a created being – albeit the highest one – rather than aligning Him with the “Creator.” This was a big deal, friends!

Regarding the Son’s relationship to the Father, Arius maintained that God the Father alone is infinite, eternal, almighty, and without any beginning – the ultimate source of all things.² Consequently, he argued, the Father’s divinity must inherently be greater than the Son’s.² The Son, in this way of thinking, was subordinate to God the Father, not co-equal in His very being or essence.² Arius envisioned a hierarchy, a divine order, where the Father decides and the Son obeys.⁸ Arius might use terms like “God” or “perfect God, only begotten and unchangeable” when referring to the Son 9 he intended this in a lesser, derived sense. In his view, Jesus was “God” only by the Father’s permission and power, described as receiving divinity “by participation in grace… He too is called God in name only”.⁸ And this is crucial: Arius taught that the Son did not share the same divine essence (the Greek term for this is ousia) as the Father; he believed the Father was “foreign in essence from the Son”.⁴ This hierarchical understanding of the Godhead directly challenged the beautiful concept of a Trinity – three co-equal and co-eternal Persons – which was becoming a central pillar, a strong foundation, of Christian belief.

Arius believed his views were necessary, he truly did, to protect God’s absolute uniqueness and His immutability (His unchangeableness).¹¹ He reasoned, “If the Logos is divine in the same sense that God the Father is divine, then God’s nature would be changed by the human life of Jesus in time and God would have suffered in him,” an idea he considered blasphemous, something that dishonored God.⁸ To support his arguments, Arius pointed to certain Bible verses, such as John 14:28 (“the Father is greater than I”) and Colossians 1:15 (“the firstborn of all creation”).² The passage in Proverbs 8:22-25, which speaks of wisdom being created, was also a key text used by Arians to try and bolster their claims.⁷ This shows us, that Arius wasn’t just inventing ideas out of nowhere; he was engaging in scriptural interpretation, he was reading his Bible, albeit an interpretation that led to conclusions vastly different from those held by the broader those who were seeking God’s heart on the matter.

To spread his teachings far and wide, Arius composed a work known as the Thalia. This book, you see, combined prose and verse in an effort to make his views on the Logos (the Word, or Son) more accessible, easier to understand for a wider audience.² In the Thalia, he explained his belief that God’s first act of creation was the Son, brought into being before all ages, implying that time itself began with the creation of the Logos in Heaven.² Very little of the Thalia has survived to this day; what remains consists mostly of fragments quoted by his opponents, primarily the great Athanasius of Alexandria.² It’s also known that Emperor Constantine later ordered Arius’s writings to be burned – a testament to how dangerous his ideas were considered by the imperial and church authorities.² The existence of the Thalia shows Arius’s clear intent to actively propagate his doctrines, to get his message out beyond just scholarly circles.

Although the Bible does speak of the Son’s submission to the Father, particularly in the context of His earthly ministry and His role within God’s divine plan, Arius extended this concept of subordination to affect the Son’s very being and eternal nature. He interpreted passages like John 14:28 as evidence of an ontological difference—a fundamental difference in their being and essence.⁷ For Arius, the term “begotten” was synonymous with “created,” thus implying a beginning and a lesser status for the Son.⁹ This illustrates how a theological concept, if misinterpreted or overextended, can undermine other crucial doctrines, in this case, Christ’s full divinity and co-eternity. It’s a reminder to always seek the full counsel of God’s Word.

Arius’s theological system, his way of understanding God, began with a very strong emphasis on the absolute uniqueness and indivisibility of God the Father.¹¹ This foundational premise—that God alone is “self-existent and immutable”—heavily influenced all his conclusions about the Son. He reasoned that if the Son also possessed these unique divine attributes in their fullness, it would either imply the existence of two Gods (which he knew was wrong) or suggest that the Godhead itself could be divided or subject to change.⁸ Therefore, in his effort to protect what he saw as the inviolable oneness of God, Arius concluded that the Son must be a created being, distinct from and subordinate to the Father. This highlights how a particular theological starting point or primary emphasis can shape an entire system of belief, sometimes leading to conclusions that conflict with other essential teachings. We must always be careful to build on the whole truth of God!

Arianism also taught that the Logos (a term for the Son, often associated with divine wisdom and reason) was a divine being created by God before the world existed, serving as the agent or medium for creation.⁷ The concept of the Logos is prominent in the Gospel of John (“In the beginning was the Word…”). Early Christian thinkers wrestled with how the eternal, transcendent God could interact with and create a finite world, often seeing the Logos as a mediator. Arius incorporated this concept by defining the Logos as created, he sharply distinguished his view from those who understood the Logos as eternally divine and one with the Father. This demonstrates Arius engaging with existing philosophical and theological ideas but reinterpreting them through his unique lens, which led to his distinctive and ultimately controversial Christology. It’s a powerful reminder that not every new idea is a God idea, and we must always measure things against the unchanging truth of His Word.

Why Were Arius’s Ideas About Jesus Considered So Dangerous by Other Christians?

When someone questions the very nature of Jesus, it’s not just a minor disagreement, not just a little theological tiff. No, for the early believers, people who loved the Lord with all their hearts, such questions shook the very foundation of their faith, their worship, and their most cherished hope of salvation! Arius’s teachings were perceived as profoundly dangerous, like a hidden reef that could shipwreck their faith, for several critical reasons.

His ideas posed a direct threat to the understanding of God, specifically the precious doctrine of the Trinity.⁷ The guided by the Holy Spirit, was increasingly articulating its belief in one God who exists in three co-equal and co-eternal Persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – a beautiful mystery! Arius’s teaching that the Son was a creature, not eternally God, fundamentally undermined this Trinitarian understanding. Think about it: if Jesus was not fully God in the same way the Father is God, then Christians who worshipped Him could be accused of worshipping a creature. Such worship would be a form of polytheism (belief in multiple gods) or idolatry, which is completely contrary to the core of Christian monotheism, the belief in one true God.¹¹ The great Church Father Athanasius, a champion for truth, argued that Arianism, in effect, “reintroduced polytheism”.¹¹ The very nature of God is the most fundamental Christian belief, the bedrock of everything, and Arius’s concepts threatened to unravel the mystery of the Triune God that the Church was striving to express faithfully.

And perhaps most alarmingly for many, Arius’s views had a severe impact on the understanding of salvation (soteriology). This was a paramount concern, because what’s more important than our salvation? Many Church Fathers, with Athanasius being a leading voice, passionately believed that only God could save humanity.⁸ If Jesus were a created being, even the most exalted creature, He would not be truly God. Athanasius famously declared, “God became man, so that man might become God”.¹³ By this, he meant that for humanity to be redeemed, to be reconciled to God, and to be enabled to share in God’s divine life, the Savior Himself had to be fully God and fully man. A “demigod” or a “lesser god,” as Arius’s Christ seemed to be, simply could not accomplish this divine work of rescue, this amazing act of love.¹¹ As one source powerfully puts it: “Only a divine Savior can bear the weight of God’s wrath in atonement… No mere man, nor half god, could possibly intervene to save fallen and sinful humanity… Only the Creator can enter creation to fix its brokenness”.⁸ If Arius was correct, the entire Christian understanding of salvation through Jesus Christ, the hope we all cling to, was placed in jeopardy. This wasn’t merely an abstract theological point; it touched the heart of whether people could truly be saved from their sins and reconciled to a loving God.

The core of the danger, you see, lay in the undermining of Christ’s full and eternal divinity.¹² Arius stated that Jesus was “not God truly by participation in grace… He too is called God in name only”.⁸ This directly contradicted the belief that Jesus was “of one substance” (homoousios) with the Father, a concept that became key to orthodox expression, a truth that set hearts on fire.⁷ For believers, Jesus was Lord, the Son of God in a unique and unparalleled way. To assert that He was a creature, however exalted, was to diminish His glory and fundamentally alter the object of their faith and worship. It was like saying the Hope of the World wasn’t quite who they believed Him to be.

If Jesus is not truly God, then He cannot fully and perfectly reveal God the Father to humanity. The Letter to the Hebrews tells us that the Son is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (Hebrews 1:3).⁸ What a beautiful truth! If Jesus were merely a creature, then in looking at Jesus, humanity would not be truly seeing God. The confidence that Jesus could speak for God, forgive sins on God’s behalf, or make believers children of God would be severely undermined.⁸ Jesus is central to how Christians know and experience God; if His divine nature is lessened, so too is our ability to truly know the Father through Him. And oh, how God wants us to know Him!

Finally, Arius’s teachings were dangerous because they caused powerful division within the Church.¹⁴ The controversy he ignited “threatened to upend the meaning of the church itself”.¹⁵ Unity, is a vital aspect of the Christian faith, something Jesus Himself prayed for. A teaching that provoked such deep disagreement and threatened to split the Church was seen as inherently harmful to the body of Christ, the family of God.

This entire controversy powerfully illustrates how Christian doctrines are deeply interwoven, like a beautiful story . When one core belief, such as the nature of Christ, is altered, it creates a domino effect, impacting other fundamental beliefs about the nature of God, the means of salvation, and the practice of worship. Arius’s challenge forced the Church to see these intricate connections with greater clarity, to appreciate the depth of God’s wisdom. The Church Fathers who stood against Arius were not merely engaging in intellectual sparring; their opposition was often rooted in a deep pastoral concern, a shepherd’s heart, for the spiritual well-being of their congregations and the integrity of the Gospel message.¹³ They feared that if people believed in a “lesser” Christ, their faith would be misplaced, and their hope of salvation would become insecure. True Christian leadership, then and involves not just teaching correct doctrine but also safeguarding the flock, protecting God’s precious people from ideas that could harm their faith.

Arianism, by presenting Christ as a created intermediary, might have attempted to make the Incarnation—the incredible idea of the infinite God becoming a finite man—more acceptable to certain philosophical mindsets of the time, which struggled with such a concept.¹¹ Greek philosophy often emphasized a vast separation between the ultimate, transcendent God and the material world, making the Incarnation a potential “scandal” or stumbling block. Arius’s Christ, a kind of super-creature or demigod, might have seemed a more “reasonable” bridge. But the orthodox response, guided by God’s Spirit, insisted on the full divinity of Christ in the flesh, affirming the unique, historical, and radical nature of God becoming man. The Church chose to uphold the powerful mystery of the Incarnation rather than dilute it for philosophical palatability, showing a commitment to the revealed truth of Scripture even when it challenges human reason or prevailing cultural ideas. And isn’t that just like God? He often asks us to believe things that are bigger than our understanding, so we can experience His limitless power!

How Did the Nicene Creed Answer Arius’s Teachings About Christ?

When you want to make something absolutely clear, especially something of great importance, something that touches the very heart of your faith, you write it down with care and precision. The Nicene Creed was the early Church’s powerful, written declaration of faith, a direct and resounding answer, guided by the Holy Spirit, to the challenges Arius had raised about the true identity of Jesus Christ! It was like a banner of truth, lifted high for all to see!

The Council of Nicaea in 325 A.D. Didn’t just condemn Arianism; it also produced a formal statement of faith, a beautiful declaration, which has come to be known as the Nicene Creed.¹¹ The primary purpose of this creed, its main goal, was to clearly define orthodox Christian belief, particularly concerning the nature of Jesus Christ, and to serve as a safeguard, a strong tower, against the teachings of Arius.¹¹ This wasn’t merely a summary of commonly held beliefs; oh no, it was intended as a theological shield and a clear banner of truth. Its enduring significance, the way it has stood the test of time, is seen in the fact that it has become a fundamental statement of faith for the vast majority of Christian denominations throughout history and continues to be recited in worship services around the world.¹⁴ Isn’t that amazing? God’s truth endures!

Several key phrases within the Nicene Creed were specifically formulated, with divine wisdom, to directly counter Arian teachings:

  • “God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God”: This powerful, repetitive affirmation, like a joyful chorus, was designed to emphasize that the Son is divine in the exact same way and to the exact same degree as God the Father.⁸ Arius had taught that the Son was a lesser, created “god”.⁸ The Creed’s wording, “We believe … in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten from the Father only-begotten; that is, of the essence of the Father, God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God…” leaves absolutely no room, no doubt whatsoever, for any Arian notion of a diminished or secondary divinity for Christ.⁸ It declares boldly who Jesus truly is!
  • “Begotten, not made”: This phrase, so simple yet so powerful, struck directly at Arius’s core argument that the Son was “created” or “made” by the Father.⁴ In the context of the Creed, the term “begotten” implies a unique, eternal relationship deriving from the Father’s very being, not an act of creation out of nothing, as Arius had contended.⁹ By distinguishing “begotten” from “made,” the Creed affirmed the Son’s divine origin as distinct from that of all created things. He is unique, He is special, He is God’s Son!
  • “Being of one substance with the Father” (homoousios): This, was the theological knockout blow to Arianism, the declaration that settled the matter! The Greek term homoousios declares that the Son shares the exact same divine essence or substance as the Father.¹â° Where Arius had explicitly denied that the Father and Son were consubstantial (homoousios), the Nicene Creed unequivocally affirmed it, stating that the Son was “of the substance of the Father” (ἐκ τῆς οὐσίας τῆς πατρός).¹â° This was the clearest possible rejection of Arianism’s central claim that the Son was of a different, lesser, or created nature. It affirmed the Son’s full divinity and His co-eternity with the Father.¹â° What a victory for truth!
  • Anathemas (Condemnations): The original Nicene Creed of 325 A.D. Also included a series of anathemas, which are strong condemnations, against specific Arian assertions. These anathemas targeted statements such as “there was a time when He was not,” or “He was made out of nothing,” or that the Son is “a creature,” “changeable,” or “alterable.” Although these anathemas are often omitted in modern recitations of the Creed (which usually follow the expanded version from the Council of Constantinople in 381 A.D.), their inclusion in the original version demonstrates that the council did not merely state what it believed; it also explicitly rejected what it considered to be false and dangerous teaching, thereby drawing clear boundaries for orthodox faith. It was saying, “This is the truth, and this is not!”

Positively, the Nicene Creed affirmed several crucial truths about the Son: that He is fully Divine, that He is equal with the Father, that His being comes from the Father through eternal generation, and therefore, that the Son possesses the same divine nature and essence as the Father.¹⁷ Thus, the Creed was not solely negative (anti-Arian); it was a powerful and positive affirmation of the Church’s enduring faith in Jesus Christ, a celebration of who He is!

The following table provides a simplified comparison, just to make it crystal clear:

FeatureArianism (Arius’s Teaching)Nicene Orthodoxy (Church’s Teaching)
Nature of the SonCreated being; made by God the Father before time.2Eternally begotten of the Father; not made.8
Son’s Existence“There was a time when the Son was not”.7Always existed with the Father; co-eternal.10
Son’s SubstanceOf a different or similar substance to the Father; not truly God in the same way.8Of the same substance (homoousios) as the Father; fully God.10
Son’s Relationship to FatherSubordinate to the Father in being and essence.7Co-equal with the Father in divinity.17
Implications for GodPreserves Father’s absolute uniqueness; Son is a lesser “god”.8One God in three co-equal, co-eternal Persons (Trinity).14
Implications for SalvationSalvation by a supreme creature (problematic for orthodox view).8Salvation only possible through the truly God-man.8

The Nicene Creed highlights the critical importance of finding the right words, the perfect language, to express powerful theological truths, especially when faced with error. Arianism had exploited ambiguities or less-defined aspects of earlier Christian language about the Son. The Council Fathers, those wise leaders, realized that general affirmations of Christ’s divinity were not enough; specific, unambiguous language was needed. Terms like “begotten, not made” and especially “homoousios” were carefully chosen to exclude Arian interpretations, with homoousios being selected in large part because Arius himself rejected it.¹â° This underscores that doctrinal clarity often requires careful, precise language. While faith ultimately transcends mere words, words are essential tools for defining, defending, and transmitting that faith accurately from one generation to the next. God gives us the words when we need them!

What Was Life and Faith Like in Alexandria During Arius’s Time?

I want you to picture a city just buzzing with an incredible energy, a true crossroads of diverse cultures, powerful ideas, and a fervent, passionate religious faith! That was Alexandria in Egypt during the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D. – a truly dynamic and often turbulent place. It was a city where the Christian faith was growing rapidly, like a well-watered seed, engaging with the intellectual currents of the age, and facing major internal and external questions. God was doing something big there!

Alexandria, originally founded by the famous Alexander the Great, was a major cosmopolitan city, a genuine melting pot where Greek, Egyptian, and a large, influential Jewish community intermingled with a rapidly expanding number of Christians.⁵ It was renowned throughout the ancient world as a premier center of learning and philosophy. Think of it as the Harvard or Oxford of its day! Although the legendary Library of Alexandria had passed its peak, the city’s intellectual spirit remained vibrant and alive. It was in Alexandria, for instance, that the Old Testament was translated into Greek, producing the influential Septuagint version, which was widely used by early Christians.⁶ This vibrant, diverse environment meant that many different ideas were constantly interacting, sometimes harmoniously, like a beautiful symphony often clashing, like cymbals in an orchestra. It was fertile ground, rich soil, for theological discussion, debate, and the formulation of new religious expressions.

Christianity had taken root in Alexandria early on, with tradition holding that St. Mark the Evangelist, one of Jesus’ own, first brought the Gospel there in the 1st century A.D..⁶ By the 3rd and 4th centuries, the Christian community in Alexandria was major in number and influence. The city boasted famous Christian scholars and theologians, like the brilliant Origen, who undertook the ambitious task of synthesizing Christian thought with elements of Greco-Roman philosophy.⁶ Alexandria was also home to a well-known catechetical school, an important institution for Christian instruction and theological education, raising up new leaders for God.⁶

But the growth of Christianity in Alexandria was not without its challenges, not without its storms. Christians in the city had faced periods of intense persecution under various Roman emperors, such as the particularly severe campaign initiated by Diocletian in 303 A.D., all because they refused to participate in emperor worship, choosing to honor God alone.⁶ But then, with the rise of Emperor Constantine and the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D., Christianity was legalized, and its influence began to grow even more rapidly. This new alliance with the state also set the stage for internal divisions and doctrinal disputes within the Church to come to the forefront, with the Arian controversy itself being a prime example of these new challenges.⁶ The Church in Alexandria was thus battle-tested, strong and resilient, and intellectually robust also prone to passionate disagreements once the pressure of external persecution eased. Sometimes, our biggest challenges come from within.

Alexandria had a reputation, even in ancient times, for being “notoriously easy to provoke into violence”.⁵ Inter-ethnic and inter-religious strife was not an uncommon feature of city life.⁶ The Arian controversy, which originated with Arius, an Alexandrian presbyter, and his bishop, Alexander, is a clear illustration of the intense doctrinal disputes that could arise and deeply divide the city.⁶ Even after the Council of Nicaea condemned Arianism, Alexandria remained a hotbed, a real center, of Arian and anti-Arian activity. The city witnessed serious conflicts between Arian-appointed bishops (like George of Cappadocia, whose time in office ended violently) and the Nicene (orthodox) population.⁵ Later in the 4th century, Alexandria also saw major clashes between Christians and pagans (often referred to as Hellenes), leading to dramatic events such as the destruction of the ancient and revered pagan temple of Serapis.⁵ There were also conflicts involving the city’s Jewish community during this tumultuous period.⁵ The Arian controversy, therefore, didn’t happen in some peaceful, sleepy little town; no, it erupted in a city with a long history of passionate, and sometimes violent, engagement with religious and philosophical ideas. It was a city on fire with ideas!

During this era, ecclesiastical leaders, particularly bishops, began to compete more openly with civil officials for power and influence in major cities like Alexandria.⁵ Bishops such as Alexander, his successor the great Athanasius, and later figures like Theophilus and Cyril in Alexandria, wielded major authority, not just in matters of church doctrine and discipline also in the broader social and political life of the city.⁵ These bishops were key players in the Arian controversy, acting not just as theologians defending their views as powerful leaders who could rally popular support and influence the course of events. God was raising up His leaders for such a time as this!

What Happened to Arius After the Council of Nicaea? Did He Ever Change His Mind?

Even when a momentous decision is made, a powerful declaration like the one at the Council of Nicaea, the story doesn’t always conclude neatly, all wrapped up with a bow. Oh no, life is often more complex than that! After the council delivered its verdict, Arius’s journey continued, marked by further twists and turns, including periods of exile, attempts at reconciliation, and ongoing, deeply felt controversy. But God’s plans, even amidst human turmoil and confusion, are always unfolding in ways that can surprise us, ways that ultimately bring Him glory.

Following his condemnation by the Council of Nicaea in 325 A.D., Arius, along with a couple of Libyan bishops who steadfastly supported him and refused to sign that powerful Nicene Creed, was exiled by order of Emperor Constantine.¹⁶ The place of his exile was Illyricum, a region that corresponds to parts of the modern Balkans.¹⁵ his writings, most notably his popularizing work, the Thalia, were ordered to be burned.² This immediate aftermath demonstrated the seriousness with which the council’s decisions were taken and the Emperor’s initial determination to enforce doctrinal unity, to bring peace and agreement, across the Christian communities of the Empire.

But the political and ecclesiastical landscape of the Roman Empire was often fluid, like shifting sands. Eusebius of Nicomedia, a bishop who held sympathies for Arius and was also a personal friend of Emperor Constantine, managed, through his influence, to regain the Emperor’s favor after a period of disfavor.¹⁵ This shift in imperial influence, this change in the palace, led to a corresponding change in Arius’s fortunes. Eventually, Arius himself was permitted to return from exile. This permission was granted after he presented a statement of faith that, at least on the surface, appeared to align more closely with orthodox beliefs, or was perhaps ambiguous enough, cleverly worded enough, to satisfy the Emperor’s deep desire for peace and unity.²â¹ It is said he attempted to “lessen the objectionable aspects of his views” in this reformulated Christology.²â¹ In one notable instance, Arius personally swore an oath to Emperor Constantine that his faith was orthodox and presented a written summary of his beliefs. But opponents like the steadfast Athanasius (as recounted by the historian Theodoret) claimed that in this profession, Arius cleverly concealed his true reasons for having been ejected from the Church by Bishop Alexander and used the language of Holy Scripture in a dishonest or misleading way.³⁰ This episode highlights how imperial decrees and theological positions could be influenced by personal connections and political maneuvering. It also suggests that Arius was willing to modify his language, though whether his core theological convictions, the beliefs deep in his heart, truly changed remains a subject of historical debate.

Despite Arius’s apparent moves towards reconciliation, staunch opposition continued, particularly from the courageous Athanasius. After the death of Bishop Alexander, Athanasius was elected as the new Bishop of Alexandria and became an even more formidable opponent of Arianism. He steadfastly, with unwavering conviction, refused to readmit Arius to communion in Alexandria, even when commanded to do so by Emperor Constantine himself.²â¹ This bold refusal, standing up to the Emperor, ultimately led to Athanasius himself being accused of various charges, including treason, and he too was sent into exile.²â¹ Athanasius’s actions underscored his prioritization of theological conviction, his commitment to God’s truth, over imperial command, highlighting the ongoing deep divisions and the major personal cost of standing for what he believed to be essential Christian truth. He was willing to pay the price!

The crucial question remains, friends: Did Arius ever genuinely change his mind, have a true change of heart, about his core teachings? The available historical sources suggest that Arius was willing to make strategic concessions in his theological language in order to be reinstated and to achieve peace. But there is little compelling evidence, little to truly convince us, that he fundamentally renounced his core belief that the Son was a created being and therefore not co-eternal with God the Father. His opponents, like Athanasius, clearly believed he was being deceptive in his professions of orthodoxy.³⁰ The very fact that the Arian controversy continued to rage with such intensity for decades after Nicaea, and that Arianism in its various forms persisted and even flourished for a time, suggests that Arius’s foundational ideas remained influential. This was likely because his underlying convictions did not truly shift, or perhaps because the ideas themselves had taken on a life of their own and had become deeply rooted in certain segments of the Church. It presents a complex picture: Arius may have earnestly sought peace or reinstatement the fundamental theological disagreement appears to have remained unresolved in his own heart and, , within the wider Church. Only God truly knows the heart.

In the period leading up to his death, after the faithful Athanasius had been exiled, the path seemed to be clearing for Arius to be formally received back into communion in the imperial capital of Constantinople. Alexander, the Bishop of Constantinople, was ordered by Emperor Constantine to receive Arius.²â¹ This placed Bishop Alexander in a position of powerful distress, torn between the imperial command and his own deep-seated orthodox convictions. He is reported to have prayed fervently, crying out to God, that God would intervene to prevent this formal reception of Arius.²â¹ Meanwhile, the pro-Arian party, led by figures like Eusebius of Nicomedia, threatened to use their influence to force Arius into the church if Bishop Alexander continued to resist.³⁰ This dramatic standoff, with imperial power on one side and the deep convictions of orthodox bishops on the other, set a tense and highly charged stage for the final, startling events of Arius’s life. The pressure was immense!

The years following Nicaea demonstrate that theological battles are often ongoing processes, not single, definitive events, and can be heavily influenced by shifting political tides. Nicaea condemned Arius Arian sympathizers soon regained imperial favor, leading to a reversal where orthodox leaders were deposed.²â¹ Even emperors like Constantius II later actively supported Arianism.⁷ This shows that doctrinal clarity achieved at a council does not guarantee immediate universal acceptance. Arius’s attempts at reconciliation also highlight the difficulty in discerning genuine repentance from strategic maneuvering. The Emperor, perhaps more focused on political unity than theological nuance, was willing to accept statements that his opponents viewed as deceptive.³⁰ This underscores the importance of looking at actions and long-term consistency, not just words, when assessing a change in theological position. Throughout this period, figures like Athanasius demonstrated an unwavering commitment to their convictions, even facing imperial pressure and personal hardship, becoming crucial in preserving Nicene orthodoxy.²â¹ They held the line, trusting in God!

What Are the Mysterious and Dramatic Stories About How Arius Died?

Sometimes, events unfold in ways that are so unexpected, so dramatic, they make everyone pause and wonder if God Himself has directly intervened, if His hand has moved in a mighty way! The stories surrounding the death of Arius are precisely like that – startling, intensely debated, and seen by many of his contemporaries as a powerful and even terrifying message from Heaven. It was a moment that left people speechless!

Arius died in the city of Constantinople in the year 336 A.D..¹ the timing of his death is incredibly major and adds to the drama, the sheer astonishment, of the accounts. It occurred on the very eve, the day just before, he was scheduled to be formally readmitted to communion with the Church in Constantinople. This was to happen against the fervent wishes, the heartfelt prayers, of the city’s orthodox bishop, Alexander, who had been commanded by Emperor Constantine to receive Arius.²â¹ Arius’s influential allies, such as Eusebius of Nicomedia, had successfully persuaded the Emperor to allow his return and formal restoration.³⁰ This moment represented what seemed to be an imminent triumph for Arius and his supporters, and a cause of deep distress and alarm for his theological opponents. The atmosphere in Constantinople, you can imagine, was thick with tension, like the air before a storm.

Multiple ancient sources, with reports beginning to circulate widely from the 360s CE (some years after his death), describe a sudden, gruesome, and highly unusual end for Arius.²â°

One of the earliest and most influential accounts comes from the great Athanasius of Alexandria. Though not an eyewitness himself, Athanasius reported that he heard the story from a presbyter named Macarius who was present in Constantinople at the time. Athanasius wrote (in a letter later recounted by the church historian Theodoret) that Arius, after confidently parading through the city with his supporters, was suddenly “compelled by a call of nature to retire.” Then, “immediately, as it is written, ‘falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst,’ and gave up the ghost, being deprived at once both of communion and of life”.²â° The language used by Athanasius, particularly “burst asunder in the midst,” deliberately echoes the biblical account of the death of Judas Iscariot in the Book of Acts (Acts 1:18), thereby drawing a clear, and sobering, parallel between the two figures.

Socrates Scholasticus, a church historian writing in the 5th century, provides an even more graphic and detailed description. According to Socrates, as Arius was parading triumphantly near Constantine’s Forum in Constantinople, “a terror arising from the remorse of conscience seized Arius, and with the terror a violent relaxation of the bowels.” He urgently sought a public latrine and was directed to one behind the Forum. There, Socrates recounts, “faintness came over him, and together with the evacuations his bowels protruded, followed by a copious hemorrhage, and the descent of the small intestines: portions of his spleen and liver were brought off in the effusion of blood, so that he almost immediately died”.² Socrates noted that the location of this shocking event was still pointed out in Constantinople in his own time, serving as a grim reminder of Arius’s extraordinary demise.² The shocking and visceral nature of these accounts was clearly intended by the narrators to portray his death as unnatural and a clear sign of divine judgment. People were stunned!

The interpretations of Arius’s death by his contemporaries, especially his opponents, were heavily influenced by these dramatic narratives.

  • Divine Judgment: The overwhelming interpretation among Arius’s orthodox opponents, including influential figures like Athanasius and Socrates Scholasticus, was that his death was a direct act of God – a miraculous and terrible judgment against his heresy and his perceived arrogant attempt to re-enter the Church against its will.² Bishop Alexander of Constantinople had been praying fervently for divine intervention to prevent Arius’s readmission, and Arius’s sudden death was widely seen as a direct answer to that prayer.³⁰ Athanasius explicitly framed Arius’s end as a parallel to that of Judas, suggesting God Himself had foiled Arius’s pretensions and condemned his teachings.²â° For those who adhered to the Nicene faith, this event was powerful confirmation that God was on their side and that Arianism was an accursed doctrine. They saw God’s hand at work!

But alternative explanations and modern historical perspectives offer different ways to understand these events:

  • Poisoning: Some modern scholars, and perhaps even some contemporaries, have suggested that Arius might have been poisoned by his adversaries.² Given the high stakes, the intense animosity surrounding him, and the political intrigue of the era, this remains a plausible, though unproven, theory.
  • Natural Causes (Sudden Illness): It is also possible that Arius died from sudden, severe natural causes. Some ancient sources mention that among the varied reactions to his death, some thought he had been taken by a sudden sickness of the heart or had suffered a stroke due to his excitement and pleasure that matters were proceeding as he wished.²â° His supporters, on the other hand, reportedly suggested he was a victim of magic or sorcery.²â°
  • Legend and Embellishment: Historians who have studied these accounts, such as Ellen Muehlberger, note that the story of Arius’s death, particularly the graphic and scatological details, appeared in written sources some years after the event actually occurred.³¹ Athanasius’s detailed account in his Letter to Serapion, for example, was written around 358 or 359 CE, nearly two decades after Arius’s death in 336 CE. For almost twenty years, his death was not a prominent feature in Athanasius’s extensive anti-Arian writings.²â° This delay, coupled with the sensational nature of the reports, suggests that the story likely underwent a process of embellishment and moved “into the realm of rumour and legend”.³¹ The focus of such historical research is often not on determining precisely how Arius died (a detail likely lost to history), but on understanding how he was remembered to have died and what these narratives reveal about the beliefs, anxieties, and rhetorical strategies of those who propagated them. The story became a potent “legend” frequently deployed in anti-heretical writings.²â°

Regardless of the exact cause, Arius’s sudden and dramatic death, followed by Emperor Constantine’s own death just a year later in 337 A.D., brought a temporary pause, a moment of quiet, to the intense Arian controversy.²â¹ His demise undoubtedly strengthened the resolve of the Nicene party and was used as a powerful piece of anti-Arian propaganda, reinforcing the narrative of divine disapproval of his teachings.

The accounts of Arius’s death, particularly those from his opponents, demonstrate how historical events can be interpreted and retold to serve theological arguments and discredit opposing views. Athanasius explicitly framed the death as divine judgment, a narrative designed to show God’s condemnation of Arianism.²â° This highlights the need for critical engagement with historical sources, especially those written by partisans in a conflict. While God can and does act in history, attributions of direct divine intervention in such specific, punitive ways require careful consideration of the narrator’s biases. The fact that the detailed, graphic accounts emerged significantly after Arius’s death and grew over time also suggests the influence of rumor and legend in shaping how he was remembered.³¹ Historical memory is not always a pure reflection of events but can be a constructed narrative that evolves. The ambiguity surrounding Arius’s death—divine judgment, poisoning, sudden illness—leaves an enduring mystery that reflects the intense passions of that era. For believers, it can be a reminder that God’s ways are not always fully known, and that human beings often interpret events through the lens of their own faith, experiences, and, sometimes, their fears and animosities. But through it all, God’s purposes prevail!

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