The ideas that led to doctrine or “heresy” known as Arianism first arose in the 3rd century, and were the product of speculation into the nature of Christ. It became one of the hottest issues in the early Church — even more than Gnosticism, as Arianism had many adherents, and was closer in nature to the Orthodox or “literalist” Christianity of the time.
Almost from the start, Christianity as a collection of movements had Hellenistic influences and attracted Hellenized followers of various ethnicities. Many early Christians were educated, according to classical Greek standards, schooled in logic, rhetoric, philosophy, history, geometry, etc.
It was inevitable, then, that Christian thinkers would attempt to more thoroughly understand the nature of Christ, using Greek analytical methods. How is it, they asked, that God could be human? How could God so alter Himself as to have a human form and live as a mere human? Furthermore, if He had died for humanity's sins, how precisely did this happen? Can God die at all and remain God?
These are just a few of the questions that vexed the earliest Christian theologians. (By the way, some of these questions are still being asked!)
For a long time, during the 1st century and early 2nd, these questions were asked in a less-than-serious manner. At its start and for its first several generations, Christianity did not have a single, firm Christological doctrine, per se, so any such speculation made little difference. After a while, however, when clergy began organizing and holding regional synods, they began — slowly, and in piecemeal fashion — to hammer out a single doctrine, all of these speculations began to matter. Some were acceptable, others were not.
One of the people who tackled the nature of Christ as a doctrinal matter was Paul of Samosata (in eastern Anatolia) who became Patriarch of Antioch in 260 CE. He eventually concluded that Jesus Christ was a created being, not “uncreated” as God was. This determination meant that Christ was less than fully divine.
As it existed at this time, this notion might be called the Samosatene Doctrine, after its first major proponent (though it may actually have predated Paul of Samosata). It caused consternation among some other Christians, once word of it was passed around. One of the building-blocks of Christianity (as many saw it, by the middle of the 3rd century) had been the divinity of Christ. For Christ's divinity to come under attack, was a threat to the very foundations of the faith. That this “attack” came from inside the Church — and from a patriarch, no less! — only made matters worse.
Still, it was a sensible answer to the many questions posed above, and was seen as a very logical conclusion — ironically even by those who opposed it. Paul of Samosata was popular at first and his ideas were initially overlooked, but eventually, he was driven from office. Ostensibly this was not for his controversial teachings, but because of his reported corruption. This is worth noting; it’s evidence that his doctrines alone weren’t viewed as so repugnant as to overtly justify his removal from office. There had to be other grounds for his removal.
In any case, though, without his episcopal pulpit from which to explain it, Paul and his doctrine faded from view. His followers were determined not to have been validly baptized (by him, presumably) and had to conform to more orthodox doctrine in order to return to the Church. That left few to champion his views afterward.
But, Paul did have at least one follower who managed to carry forward the Samosatene doctrine: another Christian thinker named Lucian of Antioch. Lucian was condemned along with Paul but appears to have reintegrated back into the Church, possibly harboring his alternative Christology quietly, in secret.
A presbyter (priest) from Alexandria, Arius, dusted off the Samosatene doctrine, likely having learned it from Lucian, and advocated for it. He was a more adamant champion of this doctrine and a far more eloquent and persuasive speaker. The Christian community of Alexandria became sharply divided over the Samosatene Doctrine. Arius was in the minority but still had a significant following; his own patriarch, Alexander, stood against him.
Among the things which most angered the Patriarch, was that Arius had composed brief, memorable ditties which encapsulated his doctrine. His followers sometimes walked around among those of Alexander, singing them, causing no small amount of provocation.
Incensed at the presbyter’s errant thinking and ability to get it out among the laity, Alexander called a synod of Egyptian bishops. They did as they were told, denouncing Arius and his doctrine.
The differences between the two sides grew ever more severe. The Samosatenes were convinced that the Alexandrians (that is, the Christian followers of Patriarch Alexander) were blaspheming, by elevating Christ to Godhood, when He was not fully divine. The Alexandrians were convinced the Samosatenes were blaspheming, by denying the divinity of Christ. Eventually, the conflict elevated to fisticuffs.
Having been denounced, and with Alexandrian Christians almost at war with one another, Arius was no longer safe in Alexandria. He fled to the Patriarch of Jerusalem, with whom he’d had a correspondence, and who supported him. Arius managed to convert many in Palestine and Syria. He was already elderly by this time, but hale enough to traverse the Levant in favor of his teachings, especially if it kept him away from Patriarch Alexander’s operatives.
When Constantine called for the Council of Nicaea, among the issues discussed was the Samosatene Doctrine. Arius spoke eloquently, as usual, for his doctrine, arguing both its reasonableness and logic, as well as its spiritual value. Athanasius, another protege of Alexander, argued against the Samosatene Doctrine, in favor of the absolute divinity of Christ. He argued that belief in Christ meant nothing, if He were not fully divine; hence the only reasonable course was to condemn the Samosatene Doctrine.
At the time this Council was called, it’s estimated that between one quarter and one third of the attendees either agreed with Arius or sympathized with his position. As the Council unfolded, however, support for Arius cratered. An overwhelming majority of bishops at Nicaea decided to condemn the Samosatene Doctrine. They also condemned and excommunicated Arius.
They did not, as is commonly assumed, adopt the “Trinity” at that time. The doctrine of the Trinity was developed over the next couple of decades, begun by Athanasius but ratified at the end of the 4th century in the Councils of Chalcedon and Constantinople. That’s because the nature of the Holy Spirit was not in question during the time of Arius; the only “persons” of godhood being discussed were Father and Son, so there was no “trinity” to be spoken of. The creed which came of these Councils is known as the Nicene Creed, however, this is a misnomer, as the Council of Nicaea didn’t adopt any “trinitarian” creed.
Arius returned to Palestine as quickly as could be arranged, however, that region also was no longer safe, as support for him in Palestine waned after the Council. He was forced to leave Asia entirely, crossing the Bosporus and ended up in Constantinople (after a short time in the hinterlands of Illyria).
Constantine had been unsatisfied with the results of the Council he'd requested. His goal had been to unify, not divide, Christianity. Instead, three Christianities emerged: “Orthodox,” Arian, and Gnostic (which played no part in the Council and continued on as it had previously, blind to this entire controversy). All the major players in the Council, including Arius, had been targets of the Emperor’s wrath. But by the time Arius reached Illyria and needed asylum, the Emperor proved more angry at Arius’s enemies than at him, and obliged. He ordered the Patriarch of Constantinople (an ardent anti-Arian) to grant Arius sanctuary.
Arius died in the mid-330s CE, but others picked up the banner of the Samosatene Doctrine (which became known as Arianism, after its best-known and most fervent advocate). Arianism found something of a second home in the western part of the Roman Empire in its waning days. Partly, this is because western Christendom was less sophisticated than in the east, and the notion of orthodoxy wasn't strictly enforced (since there were fewer people schooled well enough in doctrine to tell the difference between orthodoxy and heresy!). Also, for reasons that are unclear, Arianism seems to have coincided more neatly with the “mystery religions” that were practiced in the west and its practitioners sometimes found refuge among them.
Despite the Alexandrians’ victory over the “heresy,” small but significant pockets of Arianism remained in the east. Over the next couple centuries, they blended into Monophysitism, another later heretical movement, which finally petered out once the Byzantine Emperors made their opposition to it clear.
In the 4th century the barbarians who lurked at Rome’s margins, and later plundered it and established new kingdoms of their own in place of the western Roman Empire, were largely converted to Arian Christianity rather than Orthodox or Catholic Christianity, thanks to the efforts of missionaries such as Ulfilas (who also famously translated parts of the Bible into the Gothic language), as well as the Germanic tribes’ acquisition of Roman captives, most of whom just happened to come from primarily-Arian parts of the Empire.
In the barbarian kingdoms, Arianism took on a life of its own. Christianity in its Arian form became somewhat unique, distinct even from previous Greco-Roman Arianism. The new kingdoms also became religiously-layered, with the Germanic aristocracy being Arian while the majority Roman population was mostly Catholic (with a minority of Arians among them). This chagrined the western Catholic hierarchy, and they feared repression. But generally the barbarian kings tolerated the Catholics in their lands; they did, however, intervene when the Catholics targeted Arians. The kings often sheltered outspoken Arians, giving this heresy something of a haven and allowing it to persist even in places they did not control.
By the 5th century and later, Arianism had diverged from Catholic Christianity in many more ways than merely Christological doctrine. They had a separate liturgy and rites, and most of their clergy were married, whereas marriage was uncommon among Catholic clergy. Their selection of sacred texts was also different, although to what extent is not known since there was never any specific “Arian canon.” For that matter, at that time there was no Orthodox or Catholic canon aside from the Vulgate, which over the few centuries after St Jerome translated it evolved into a de facto canon.
After their conversion to Arianism the Goths split (into the western Goths or Visigoths, and the eastern Goths or Ostrogoths). The Ostrogoths, who settled into almost-wholly-Catholic Italy, gradually shed Arianism over a period of time. The Vandal kingdom was defeated by Emperor Justinian and his general Belisarius in the early 6th century and was won over to eastern Catholicism. Where they settled in Spain, the Visigoths retained Arianism until the late 6th century when their king, Reccared I, converted to Catholicism, inspiring most of the rest of his Arian subjects to do the same. He also suppressed a revolt by a minority who would not.
That the barbarian kingdoms had been a refuge for Arianism, had an interesting effect: By the middle of the 5th century most all of the Arians in the former Roman Empire were living in these kingdoms. Arianism had lurked in pockets throughout the central and western Empire, but these had largely dried up outside of the Vandal and two Gothic kingdoms. When those regions went over to Catholicism, this had the effect of virtually wiping out Arianism.
Much more recently, a few Protestant Christian denominations emerged that asserted the humanity of Christ over His divinity, and some go so far as to deny the Trinity entirely. So, while Arianism was dead for most of the Middle Ages, it has — in a way — re-emerged. While still a rare notion, some current Christians owe their views of Christ's nature to Paul of Samosata and Arius of Alexandria.
Arianism is occasionally mistaken for a form of Gnosticism; but at no time did Paul of Samosata, Arius of Alexandria, or any other advocates of their ideas teach a secret, esoteric, mystical doctrine of the Gnostic style about gnosis of the Ineffable Divine. Arianism was absolutely a form of “literalist” Christianity (as opposed to Gnostic). About the only thing the Arians had in common with Gnostics was that some of them included Docetism in their teachings. Otherwise, they were completely different. In fact, Arians had a hand in suppressing Gnosticism — in spite of the fact that they were under attack as “heretics” themselves.
Another point that can cause confusion: Arianism was much less of a coherent faction and package of doctrine than perhaps its foes wanted others to think. Only in Arius’s native Alexandria, and only while he was still there and for at most a few years after he left, then in Palestine while he lived there, was it a distinctive and more or less unitary movement.
After Arius fled to Illyria and then Constantinople, and even moreso after he died, the movement with his name became amorphous. Its adherents tended to drift doctrinally from place to place and over time, as well. Adding to the confusion was a tendency that the Orthodox/Catholic faction had to label anyone who disagreed with them, or who fell out of their favor, as “Arianists” (or “Arians”). They did this sometimes without regard to what it was that their foes believed. (This is one of the reasons Melitians were conflated with Arianists.)
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