ECUMENISM & CONSTANTINIANISM

1,700 years ago, bishops and an emperor wrote a creed. Millions still recite it in church

(AP) — Leo will commemorate the 1,700th anniversary with Patriarch Bartholomew, the spiritual leader of Eastern Orthodox Christians.

Peter Smith
November 21, 2025
RNS/AP

Centuries of church schisms show that if there’s a doctrine to be fought over, there’s a good chance Christians will fight about it.

That repeated splintering is what makes the Council of Nicaea — a meeting of bishops 1,700 years ago in present-day Turkey — so significant today. And why Pope Leo XIV is traveling on Nov. 28 to the site of this foundational moment in Christian unity as part of his first major foreign trip as pope.

In 325, the council hashed out the first version of the Nicene Creed, a statement of faith that millions of Christians still recite each Sunday.

“The occasion is very, very important — the first global, ecumenical council in history and the first form of creed acknowledged by all the Christians,” said church historian Giovanni Maria Vian, coauthor of “La scommessa di Costantino,” or “Constantine’s Gamble,” published in Italy in tandem with the anniversary.

Convened by the Roman emperor, Nicaea marked the first — but hardly the last — time that a powerful political leader took a leading role in shaping a far-reaching church policy. It was an early collaboration of church and state.

Leo will commemorate the 1,700th anniversary with Patriarch Bartholomew, the spiritual leader of Eastern Orthodox Christians.

Catholic, Orthodox and most historic Protestant groups accept the creed. Despite later schisms over doctrine and other factors, Nicaea remains a point of agreement — the most widely accepted creed in Christendom.

Other events have been commemorating the council, from the global to the local. The World Council of Churches, which includes Orthodox and Protestant groups, marked the anniversary in Egypt in October. At a Pittsburgh-area ecumenical celebration in November, the tongue-in-cheek catchphrase was, “Party like it’s 325.”

Unified empire, divided church

The Council of Nicaea is important both for what was done and how it was done.

It involved an unprecedented gathering of at least 250 bishops from around the Roman Empire. Emperor Constantine had consolidated control over the empire after years of civil war and political intrigues.

Constantine wouldn’t formally convert to Christianity until the end of his life. But by 325, he had already been showing tolerance and favor toward a Christian sect that had emerged from the last great spasm of Roman persecution.

Constantine wanted a unified church to support his unified empire. But the church was tearing itself apart.

It’s sometimes called the “Trinitarian Controversy,” though the debate wasn’t so much about whether there was a Trinity — God as Father, Son (Jesus) and Holy Spirit — but about how the Son was related to the Father.

Historians debate exactly who taught what, but an Egyptian priest named Arius gave his name to the influential doctrine of Arianism.

It depicted Jesus as the highest created being, but not equal to God. The opposing view, championed by an Egyptian bishop, said that Jesus was eternally equal to the Father.

An effort at compromise

Constantine called a council to sort things out. It’s called the first “ecumenical” or universal council, as opposed to regional ones.

The bishops nearly unanimously supported a creed endorsed by the emperor. It’s a shorter version of the Nicene Creed recited in church today. It declared Jesus to be “true God” and condemned those who proclaimed Arian ideas.

The creed described Jesus as equal to the Father, of “one substance” — “homoousios,” a term from Greek philosophy rather than the Bible.

The council also adopted a formula for determining the date of Easter, which had been controversial. The council approved the calendar favored by Arian sympathizers, setting Easter for the Sunday after the first full moon of spring. That gave each side a win, said David Potter, author of “Constantine the Emperor” and a professor of Greek and Roman history at the University of Michigan.

“The Council of Nicaea was an extraordinary diplomatic success for Constantine, because he got the two sides to agree,” he said.

As a result, an emperor’s theological legacy endures.

“I’ve often thought that it’s nice that a piece of imperial legislation is read out every Sunday,” Potter said.


Ominous language about Jews

When the council set its formula for determining Easter, it made a point of distancing the observance from that of Jewish Passover. It used highly contemptuous language for Jews.

“Institutional antisemitism was absolutely a feature of the church,” Potter said.

He noted that such harsh language was common on all sides of ancient religious disputes among early Christians, Jews and pagans. But it helped set a precedent for centuries of persecution of Jewish minorities in Christian lands.

The settlement unsettled

Despite agreement on the creed, it didn’t settle things. In fact, Arius made a comeback, returning to political favor.

NEW: Bring more puzzles and play to your week with RNS Games

Doctrinal debate raged for another couple of generations — even in the streets of the new capital of Constantinople.

“Old-clothes men, money changers, food sellers, they are all busy arguing,” wrote St. Gregory of Nyssa late in the fourth century. “If you ask someone to give you change, he philosophizes about the Begotten and the Unbegotten. If you inquire about the price of a loaf, you are told … the Father is greater and the Son inferior.”

In 381, another emperor convened a council in Constantinople. It affirmed an expanded Nicene Creed, with added lines describing the church and the Holy Spirit. The final version became the standard text used today. It’s sometimes called the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed.

Later -isms and schisms

That largely took care of the Arians, but new controversies arose in later centuries.

Some churches in Asia and Africa, including the Oriental Orthodox bodies, accepted the Nicene Creed but rejected later councils amid disputes over how to talk about Jesus being both human and divine. Pope Leo, while in Turkey, also plans to meet with representatives of two Oriental Orthodox groups, the Armenian Apostolic and Syriac Orthodox churches.

The Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches had their own schism in the 11th century. They’d already been growing apart over such things as papal authority, but a big controversy was that the Western churches had added a clause in the Nicene Creed that the Eastern ones hadn’t agreed to. Specifically, the original creed said the Holy Spirit “proceeds from the Father,” but Catholics added, “and the Son.”

Protestant churches later split over other issues, though most held to the Nicene Creed. Historic churches such as Lutherans, Anglicans and Presbyterians explicitly affirm the creed. Many modern evangelical churches that don’t officially affirm the creed, such as many Baptists, have their own statements of faith that largely agree with it.

A few notable exceptions, such as Jehovah’s Witnesses and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, don’t accept the Nicene formula.

The Catholic and Protestant churches also began observing Easter differently than the Orthodox a few centuries ago, using an updated solar calendar — and opening yet another breach in Nicene unity.

Still, Nicaea offers hope to a divided church, said the Rev. John Burgess, a systematic theology professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary who is a Presbyterian minister and a scholar on Eastern Orthodoxy.

“An event like the 1,700 years of Nicaea is really the celebration not of a reality but of a hope — of what Christians at their best know ought to be the case, that there is a deep call to unity,” he said.

___

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

Signs of the Times

Pope to be tested on first trip to Turkey and Lebanon

(RNS) — I don’t expect a home run on his first time at bat, but neither will he strike out.

FILE - Pope Leo XIV greets pilgrims in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican, Oct. 7, 2025. 

(AP Photo/Andrew Medichini)

Thomas Reese
November 24, 2025
RNS



(RNS) — While Americans are recovering from their Thanksgiving dinners, Pope Leo will be flying to Turkey and then Lebanon. His first international trip, these five days abroad will show whether Leo is ready for primetime on a global stage.

The trip has two major themes: ecumenism and peace.

The trip to Turkey was planned by Pope Francis to celebrate the 1,700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, most famous for approving the Nicene Creed that attempted to bring unity to Christians who were fighting over Christology and other theological issues.

The creed unites the Catholic Church with Orthodox churches and many Protestant churches.

RELATED: Pope Leo embraces the radical challenge of Catholic social teaching

Ecumenism has come a long way since I was a child, when Catholics and Protestants avoided each other’s churches (even for weddings and funerals) and treated each other as heretics. Earlier, it was even worse, with Protestants and Catholics killing each other over their differences in France (1562-1598) and in the Eighty Years’ War (1566-1648) and the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648).

Blood was also shed between Catholics and Orthodox Christians, including the sacking of Constantinople by the Crusaders in 1204. The 1054 mutual excommunication between the pope and the patriarch of Constantinople was not lifted until 1965 by Pope Paul VI and Patriarch Athenagoras I.

Except in Ireland, the 20th century was a time of peace among Christians, but it was not until the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965) that the Catholic Church fully committed itself to ecumenism. Heretics became “separated brothers and sisters.” Christians prayed together, exchanged pulpits, held theological dialogues and worked together for the common good.

Progress was made on many old issues, like justification by faith or works. Catholics are no longer selling indulgences. Although Catholics and Protestants still do not share the Eucharist, the Mass is now in the vernacular, the cup is shared with the people and the clergy encourage the faithful to read the scriptures. Luther would have been pleased.

But as quickly as issues were resolved, new ones came up, especially relating to sexual morality and the ordination of women. I joke with my Protestant friends that, considering the changes that have occurred in Catholicism and Protestantism, today Luther would be a Catholic.

The Vatican sees the anniversary of the Council of Nicaea as an opportunity to celebrate ecumenical progress and to stress that what unites Christians is greater than what divides them. Dialogue and cooperation must continue.

Leo had limited involvement in ecumenism as a priest or bishop. Only 14 percent of Peru is Protestant. But his work and travel as prior general of the Order of Saint Augustine educated him on the wide varieties of Christianity, and the Vatican has an office of experts whose sole function is ecumenical dialogue and who have doubtless prepped Leo for this trip.

But no trip to Turkey can ignore the war that is happening just north of the country on the other side of the Black Sea.

Pope Francis was accused of tilting toward Russia because of his comment that the U.S. provoked Russia with its desire to bring Ukraine into NATO. He also encouraged Ukraine to show the “white flag,” which was interpreted as surrender when he meant a ceasefire for negotiations.

He also hoped the Vatican could provide a neutral spot for negotiations between Ukraine and Russia. The Vatican has been successful in negotiating prisoner exchanges and the return of Ukrainian children taken into Russia during the war.

Like Francis, Leo had no diplomatic experience before becoming pope, but he will be well briefed before he gets on the plane to Turkey. He will avoid making spontaneous comments on the war and will stick close to the positions articulated by the Vatican Secretariat of State, especially by calling for a ceasefire and an end to the bombing and killing.

U.S. foreign policy can change radically with the election of a new president, but Vatican foreign policy stays pretty much the same no matter who is pope.

The trip to Lebanon will be a boost for Christians in the Middle East, where they are suffering, especially in Lebanon, Syria, Gaza and the West Bank. Christians have left the Middle East in droves. The region needs peace and stability.

Lebanon is still reeling from the 2020 explosion of 2,750 tons of ammonium nitrate in Beirut that killed 218 people, injured 7,000 more and caused $15 billion in damage. The pope has promised to visit the site of the explosion.

Meanwhile, Israel has targeted Hezbollah leaders in Lebanon with little concern for collateral damage. According to The Associated Press, “Israeli airstrikes over southern Lebanon have intensified in recent weeks.” The most recent attack in Beirut’s southern suburbs killed five people and wounded 25 others. This is just a few miles from where the pope will be visiting.

RELATED: Catholic bishops decry treatment of migrants without mentioning Trump

Everyone will be watching to see what the pope will say about Israel’s actions in Lebanon, Gaza and the West Bank. This is a minefield for even the most experienced diplomat, which Leo is not. Again, he will be well prepared by Vatican experts, and I predict he will stick to the policies articulated by the Vatican Secretariat of State. He will support a ceasefire, negotiations and the two-state solution.

This first international trip will be a very public test of Leo’s papacy. I don’t expect a home run on his first time at bat, but neither will he strike out. A base hit will be a win.

American Jewish Radicalism and the American Empire

Daniel Falcone

 November 7, 2025

FacebookTwitterRedditBlueskyEmail

Benjamin Balthaser teaches multi-ethnic U.S. literature at Indiana University in South Bend. He is the author of Citizens of the Whole World: Anti-Zionism and the Cultures of the American Jewish Left (Verso, 2025), in addition to articles and monographs that explore the intersections of race, social movements and the contours of U.S. empire. In Citizens, Balthaser explores a 100-year history of U.S. Jewish movements, and their self-definition through and against Zionism and U.S. empire. In this interview, exclusive for CounterPunch, he offers an interdisciplinary analysis of questions including diaspora, internationalism, Jewish identity, antisemitism, as well as his method which combines literature, oral history and archival sources.

Daniel Falcone: Could you explain how you structured the book in terms of the chapters and how themes like human rights, social movements, and identity construction are perhaps woven together?

Benjamin Balthaser: Citizens is not meant to be an encyclopedia of the Jewish left; my emphasis is on four key historical moments in which Jewish identity and anti-Zionist politics were both crucial, and also, in the process of being reimagined. The book is structured chronologically and thematically, as it moves among questions of anti-imperialism, identity, memory, and solidarity across social movements and a nearly 100 year history.

In Chapter 1, I focus on the Popular Front of the 1930s and ’40s, particularly Jews within the orbit of Communist and Trotskyist parties in the U.S., and for whom opposition to Zionism was part of their broader critique of fascism, colonialism and ethno-nationalism.

For both Chapters 2 and 3, I focus on the 1960s New Left, specifically on the relationship between anti-Zionism and critique of whiteness. From the 19th century to the mid-twentieth century, the exclusion of Jews from educational, housing, and ultimately immigration pathways complicated the idea that even Ashkenazi Jews were fully granted “whiteness.” By the 1960s, these legal barriers had mostly disappeared, and Jews had entered the middle class, into previously excluded universities and suburbs.

These chapters evolve to look at how Jewish activists, many of them key figures in the New Left, grappled with their new social position. Abbie Hoffman, interestingly, saw his Jewishness as a kind of “double identity,” assimilationist on the one hand, and yet also, part of a rebellious tradition, rooted in solidarity with the oppressed on the other. For such activists of the Jewish New Left, the Black Freedom Struggle, and its critique of Zionism, was central to how they articulated their politics and their rejection of at least the politics of whiteness.

Chapter 4 looks at the changing left of the 1970s, when a Zionism more or less solidified within the Jewish mainstream. This was also the era when identity politics was ascendant across many movements: Black Power, Chicano rights, feminism, etc. Some Jewish leftists formed socialist collectives, trying to reclaim Jewish identity in solidarity with the Panthers and radical feminism, resisting both compulsory Zionism and the white backlash of Jewish institutions like the ADL or AJC. The collectives were politically diverse — some were religious, others secular, but they shared a commitment to Jewish anti-racist, anti-imperialist values. Often, these tried to reconnect with earlier traditions, including Marxist movements like the Labor Bund, while also adapting to new social realities (like suburbanization and the loss of Jewish urban neighborhoods).

In Chapter 5, I turn to the present day to ask how groups like Jewish Voice for Peace and JFREJ (Jews for Racial and Economic Justice) navigate Jewish identity and cultural memory in the crater left after the collapse of a Zionist consensus, and the construction, particularly among the young and middle-to-working class, of a new anti-Zionist consensus. Some of these movements reinterpret Jewish religious traditions like Passover seders or Sukkot, others from socialist history and memory. These groups aren’t always distinct (members often overlap), but they represented a revival of Jewish left politics, grounded in both historical memory and/or religious re-inscription. So ultimately, my book puts together questions of identity, memory, and resistance thus showing how Jewish politics have been shaped through questions of anti-racism, capitalism, and empire. Right now, the task is reshaping a Jewish politics dedicated to the cause of anti-colonialism and support for the people of Palestine.

Daniel Falcone: Can you talk about how you connect literature to history and politics?

Benjamin Balthaser: I was trained in the field of cultural studies which begins with the assumption one cannot understand anything — literature, politics, history, in isolation. Traditional academic disciplines tended to separate knowledge into disconnected silos: art, literature, history, when of course, these fields are intimately connected. Cultural studies origins can be traced back to the Frankfurt School‘s interdisciplinary studies of fascism, and to New Left thinkers such as Stuart Hall, who wanted to understand power through complex social formations. To do such work it requires an understanding of social movements, changes in politics and identity, how people express themselves through art, ideas etc.

I don’t really mind how one describes my work. But I think what is important is to recognize how interdisciplinarity captures how people live, not simply as political or economic monads. This book focuses on the American Jewish left, so identity and politics are never separate from one another, nor from the structure of U.S. empire. This idea is further explored by scholars in American Studies like Janice Radway, Donald Pease, and Robin D.G. Kelley whose work suggests that our daily lives are formed within the context of empire, what William Appleman Williams referred to as “empire as a way of life.”

If one asks, “Is your work about Jewish identity, anti-Zionism, the left, or anti-imperialism?” The short answer is “all the above” because one cannot separate such questions. Anti-Zionism, for instance, is not just a political stance, it’s a way of expressing Jewish identity, and a critique of empire, and these identities and positions evolve together. Currently, we are seeing a crisis of American empire, of which the war on Palestine is one front. It has created a change in how Jewish identity is understood in the U.S., with the growing popularity of anti-Zionist groups such JVP (Jewish Voice for Peace) and the increasingly authoritarian tone of organizations such as ADL.

At the same time, we also witness a rise in white nationalism, yet another symptom of this imperial crisis: “white identity” movements are clearly a response to changing relations of U.S. power, declining standards of living, new forms of authoritarianism. This all affects how Jews see themselves within the U.S. Are Jews outsiders or insiders? Off-white? Hyper-white? Both? This has long been a complicated question in American life, and it’s being revisited now considering current political developments. Ultimately, I think literature, politics, and identity are tangled, and the fact is we can’t analyze one without studying the others.

Daniel Falcone: I noticed Zohran Mamdani’s campaign for mayor in NYC receiving intergenerational support among the politically left-leaning U.S. Jewish electorate. How does this phenomenon relate to the themes in your work?

Benjamin Balthaser: I like how you mention the Mamdani campaign brought together an intergenerational Jewish left coalition. One key intervention I’d like to offer is to un-tell the narration of Jewish generational rupture. There’s a long history of narrating Jewish migration to the U.S. through an assimilationist, teleological framework, in which the orthodox become liberal reform Jews; radical socialists become stalwart Democrats; everyone is always upwardly mobile. The most famous example is perhaps Alan Crosland’s The Jazz Singer (1927) in which we see a young man abandon his orthodox, reactionary parents to embrace showtunes, performance, and of course, the most American of all things, racial and racist masquerade.

This narrative is repeated regarding the New Left as well: younger Jewish radicals rebelling against their conservative parents. But from reading memoirs and conducting interviews, the story appears more complex: New Left Jews often felt they were fulfilling their parents, or sometimes grandparents, ethical and political commitments. Often, the younger generations aren’t actually breaking from tradition but reinterpreting and continuing one. In Mike Gold’s 1930 Jews without Money the main character learns from his mother’s working-class solidarity and her resistance to suburban assimilation. She passes down not a religion as an act of observance, but a political and ethical worldview grounded in social justice. Similarly, Grace Paley’s story Conversations with My Father (1974) explores this dynamic in which the daughter argues with her father – who does embrace upward mobility and assimilation – but never disowns him.

So, in looking at younger Jews today who are questioning Zionism or U.S. imperialism, I don’t necessarily see it as a break from longstanding Jewish tradition. On the contrary, it is often a return to earlier radical modalities of understanding and being. Before the 1970s Zionism wasn’t the consensus regarding American Jews. Many Jewish youths in the New Left were non-Zionist or anti-Zionist, and they often drew inspiration from older generations and radical grandparents, or Yiddish socialists, or anti-fascist activists.

In my second chapter, I interview a number of former members of Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), many of whom are still politically active today. One is a co-founder of my temple, Tzedek-Chicago. If there are throughlines from one historical moment to the next, it is both through the organizations people build and also, through continuities of left-wing commitment: diasporism, internationalism, anti-racism. Of course, I am not making a claim for all American Jews, but rather certain traditions of the left.

Today, when Zionists claims to speak for all Jews, there is a growing counter-voice reclaiming Jewish politics as rooted in anti-racism. That’s the tradition I see being revived in movements like JVP or campaigns like Mamdani’s.

Daniel Falcone is a historian specializing in the revolutions of 1848 and the political refugees who sought asylum in New York City. His academic work focuses on Giuseppe Garibaldi’s influence on New York’s local history and the politics of memory in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Aside from his research, he is a teacher and journalist whose work has appeared in additional publications such as The Journal of Contemporary Iraq & the Arab World, The Nation, Jacobin, and Truthout. His journalistic pieces, Q&As with public intellectuals, intersect history with modern-day geopolitical issues.

 

‘Ultimate dinner party guests’: Dispersed communities attending feast in ancient Iran gifted boars sourced from distant lands

Australian National University

Facebook

XLinkedInWeChatBlueskyMessageWhatsAppEmail

 

image: 

Samples of ancient boar teeth unearthed at the archaeological site of Asiab in the Zagros Mountains. 

view more 

Credit: Credit: Nic Vevers/ANU

Magnets and shot glasses serve as fun holiday souvenirs, but certain foods synonymous with a country’s identity can make for extra meaningful gifts for friends and loved ones; think French cheese, Dutch Stroopwafels and Canadian maple syrup.  

According to new research, communities that lived in western Iran about 11,000 years ago during the Early Neolithic period took a similar approach when it came to gift-giving. 

They invested significant effort to bring wild boars hunted in dispersed parts of the landscape as gifts to be eaten at a communal celebration that took place at what is now the archaeological site of Asiab in the Zagros Mountains. 

The findings, conducted by an international team of researchers including scientists from The Australian National University (ANU), suggest this practice of offering gifts that have geographical symbolism can be traced back to prehistory. 

“Food and long-standing culinary traditions form an integral component of cultures all over the globe. It is for this reason holidays, festivals, and other socially meaningful events commonly involve food. For example, we cannot imagine Christmas without the Christmas meal, Eid without the food gifts, or Passover without matzo ball soup,” Dr Petra Vaiglova from ANU said. 

The scientists unearthed the skulls of 19 wild boars that were neatly packed and sealed inside a pit within a round building at the Asiab site. Butchery marks on the animals’ skulls suggest they were used for feasting, but until now scientists were unsure where these boars came from. 

Dr Vaiglova and the international research team examined the tooth enamel of five of these wild boars. The researchers analysed microscopic growth patterns and chemical signatures inside the enamel that offered “tell-tale” signs indicating that at least some of the boars used for the feast were not from the area where the gathering took place.   

“Just like trees and their annual growth rings, teeth deposit visible layers of enamel and dentine during growth that we can count under the microscope. This is the first time these growth layers have been used to guide geochemical analysis of animal teeth to answer questions about human-animal interactions,” Dr Vaiglova said. 

“Rainfall and bedrock have distinct isotopic values in different geographical locations. These isotopic values get incorporated into animal tissues through drinking water and food. Measuring the isotopic values of tooth enamel allowed us to assess whether all the animals came from the same part of the region or whether they originated from more dispersed locations. 

“Because the values we measured across the five teeth showed a high amount of variability, it is unlikely that all the animals originated from the same location. It is possible that some of them originated roughly 70 kilometres away from the site where the feast took place.”  

The researchers said it is surprising that these hunters went through such effort to kill and transport boars from their local region over difficult mountainous terrain during a journey that likely would have taken several days, especially considering boars were not the most hunted animal during the Early Neolithic period. 

Dr Vaiglova said communities living in the Zagros Mountains at this time had a “very diverse hunting strategy” and were hunting lots of different animal species. 

“Boars are especially aggressive and so displaying them as hunting trophies or presenting them at a feast carries with it a certain element of significance. Bringing these animals from distant locations would have undoubtedly helped celebrate the importance of the social event that took place at Asiab,” she said.  

“What is special about the feast at Asiab is not only its early date and that it brought together people from across the wider region, but also the fact that people who participated in this feast invested substantial amounts of effort to ensure that their contributions involved an element of geographic symbolism. This feast also took place at a time that pre-dates agriculture and farming practices. 

“This was clearly a very meaningful event and the fact that people put in so much effort to transport the boars over such challenging terrain provides us with a glimpse of how old the tradition of bringing geographically meaningful gifts to social events really is. 

“These people were clearly the ultimate dinner party guests.”  

The research is published in Nature Communications Earth and Environment and involved scientists from Australia, Germany, Denmark and Iran. 

Images and other visual assets available to download here. Photo credit: Nic Vevers/ANU 

---

Method of Research

Imaging analysis

Subject of Research

Animal tissue samples

Article Title

Transport of animals underpinned ritual feasting at the onset of the Neolithic in southwestern Asia