CHRISTUS VICTOR A N D THE CREEDS: SOME

HISTORICAL CONSIDERATIONS

THOMAS FINGER*

Abstract: The Christus Victor motif has rightly been recommended

as a fruitful resource for believers' church theologizing. Yet the
emphases of Christus Victor have been presented as opposed to
those of the classical creeds. Through an examination of patristic
writers (chiefly Justin Martyr and Irenaeus), who both advocated
Christus Victor and affirmed many creed-like statements, this
essay argues that these two resources need not be incompatible. It
then outlines more positive ways in which believers' church
theologians can appropriate the creeds. Finally, this essay shows
how Christus Victor, as conceived by Justin and Irenaeus, involved
not only the social and ethical dimensions that believers' church
theologians stress, but personal and spiritual ones as well.

In 1994 J. Denny Weaver published two articles in The Mennonite

Quarterly Review that presented a "historicized version" of the Christus
Victor motif of Jesus' atoning work.1 He recommended it as a foundation
not only for soteriology and Christology but also for many other themes
in a believers' church theology. Weaver's proposal opens up the
intriguing possibility of bringing believers' church theology in dialogue
not only with Reformation and later sources, as has long been practiced,
but also with other eras of church history—in particular, with the
patristic period.
Weaver's approach also reflects a larger concern. He fears that
today's Mennonites are increasingly becoming part of mainstream North
American culture (499). In this setting he affirms that believers' church
theology must distinguish sharply between churches that derive their
ethical and ecclesiological orientation from Jesus' way and those that
derive it from their surrounding society. Christus Victor, he believes, can
help emphasize the former.

*Thomas Finger is Professor of Systematic and Spiritual Theology at Eastern

Mennonite Seminary.
ln
Christus Victor, Ecclesiology, and Christology," MQR 68 (July 1994), 277-90; and
"Some Theological Implications of Christus Victor," MQR 70 (Oct. 1994), 483-99. Page
references in the body of this article refer to these articles by Weaver.
31
32 The Mennonite Quarterly Review

Having constructed my own view of atonement around Christus

Victor,2 I can strongly endorse its fruitfulness and can affirm most
emphases that Weaver connects with it. I also share Weaver's concerns
about the mainstreaming of Mennonite churches and the importance of
rooting believers' church theology in Jesus' way. However, I find
Weaver's particular approach weakened by the way he refers to material
from the patristic era.
Weaver sharply contrasts Christus Victor with the Nicene Creed (325
CE.) and the Chalcedonian Definition (451 CE.), and he finds genuine
appropriation of the former inconsistent with significant positive use of
these "creeds."3 He repeatedly calls them and their Christologies
products of the "Constantinian shift." Yet nowhere, so far as I know,
does Weaver discuss the process by which patristic creeds and
Christologies developed. In Parts I and Π of this essay I will endeavor to
show that, when this history is considered, many creedal and
Christological features that Weaver attributes to "Constantinianism"
arose not from there, but from the pre-Constantinian period which
Weaver valorizes. Consequently in Part ΙΠ I will argue that a more
nuanced approach to "the creeds" befits a contemporary, counter-
cultural, believers' church theology.
Weaver's "historicized" interpretation also emphasizes some social
implications of Christus Victor, with which I generally agree. Yet he does
not discuss the patristic theologians who formulated this motif, so far as I
am aware. Through examining two of them—Justin Martyr and
Irenaeus—I will show in Part IV that they also elaborate "spiritual" and
"inward" dimensions that could enhance believers' church theology
today.
Although I will critique some of Weaver's historical assertions, my
major purpose will be to explain this motif's historical associations more
fully and to broaden its range. My ultimate aim, like Weaver's, is to
commend its value for today's believers' churches, especially in rooting
4
their lives in Jesus and his distinct way. A brief summary of the

2
Christian Vreology: An Eschatological Approach (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1985)
1:277-367. Because I also make some constructive use of the moral influence and
substitutionary motifs, Weaver complains that I "more or less add the theories together
rather than construct a theology around one overall motif' (289, n. 20). My intent,
however, was to make Christus Victor dominant. I frequently, though not always, treat
the substitutionary as pointing to some important theme in an abstract way, the moral
influence as explicating the dynamics of this theme in a social-historical manner, and the
Christus Victor as illuminating the deepest levels of these dynamics.
3
For a treatment of the same issues that is more positive towards the creeds, see Ben
Ollenburger, "Mennonite Theology: A Conversation around the Creeds," MQR 66 (fan.
1992), 57-89.
4
This motif already finds expression in the new Confession of Faith in a Mennonite
Perspective (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1995), especially in the articles on Sin and
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 33
Christus Victor motif and of Weaver/s "historicized" reading of it are
found at the beginning of Part IV.

I. CREEDAL AFFIRMATION AND CHRISTOLOGY: THEIR ORIGINS

Weaver finds three major flaws in the historic creeds of Nicea and
Chalcedon. First, they make " generic/' ontological statements about
Jesus (fitting him into categories of divine and human) "rather than
recounting particular deeds that he has done or that God has done
through him/' Second, the creeds "separate Christology from ethics and
ecclesiology . . . they identify Jesus without reference to the ethical
dimensions" of his life or his Church. Third, they separate Christology
from atonement (286). Weaver generally contrasts creedal language
unfavorably with the narrative-based language that describes what Jesus
did and who he is in scripture. He affirms that any "story-based
Christology" grounded in scripture will use "the life of Jesus as its
foundational categories [sic]" (288).
Weaver also asserts that the "Constantinian shift" played an
important causal role in producing these creeds and their defects: "the
classic formulas reflect their genesis in, and bear the marks of, the so-
called Constantinian church" (278). And further, "the Constantinian
church . . . developed the Christological statements that separate ethics
from Christology and abandoned living like Jesus as an inherent aspect
of what it means to 'be Christian'" (498). But can historical research
establish that such creeds, along with their defects, actually developed
from the Constantinian shift? Further, can it throw any light on the three
weaknesses that Weaver finds in "the creeds"?
The tendency to summarize the important items of the Christian faith
in brief, easily recalled affirmations extends back to the preaching,
singing and confessing that pre-dated the New Testament. Scholars have
identified a kerygma, or summary of the earliest Christian message, culled
from Paul's epistles and from early sermons described in ACÉS (2:14-39,
3:13-26, 4:10-12, 5:30-32, 10:36-43, 13:17-41). The kerygma, as Weaver
stresses (283), rehearses in narrative fashion the basic events connected
with Jesus' saving work.
According to New Testament scholar C. H. Dodd, the Pauline
kerygma announced that God's promises had been fulfilled in Jesus and
went on to mention his birth from Davidic seed, his death, burial,

Salvation. It also finds favor in John Driver's Understanding the Atonementforthe Mission of
the Church (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1986).
34 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
resurrection, ascension and coming return.5 Sometimes Paul cited brief
phrases or statements from this kerygma, most of which preceded him.
For instance, a phrase concerning Jesus' death recalls "the Lord Jesus
Christ who gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil
age" (Gal. 1:3-4). Fuller pre-Pauline affirmations mention Jesus' Davidic
birth and resurrection (Rom. 1:3-4), and his death, burial and
resurrection (1 Cor. 15:1-5). It is important for our purposes, however,
that no such fragment mentions Jesus' life.
The sermons in Acts, while including the basic Pauline affirmations,
do mention several features of Jesus' life and ministry. He was "attested
to you by God with deeds of power, wonders, and signs" (Acts 2:22); he
was a prophet like Moses (3:22); he came "preaching peace" and after
John's baptism was anointed "with the Holy Spirit and with power" and
"went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the
devil" (10:36-38). Even in Acts, however, Jesus' life receives less
attention than do his death and resurrection. His life is not mentioned in
Acts' briefest summaries (4:10-12, 5:30-32), and from the events of his
life, only his baptism is included in the longest summary (13:24-25).
Such findings need not imply that Jesus' life and teachings are
inessential for theology. They are certainly important for the New
Testament as a whole, as is most evident in the gospels. One can also
plausibly argue that the Jesus-narrative underlies Paul's writings, 1 Peter
(esp. 2:21-24), Hebrews (esp. 2:9-10, 5:7-9, 12:2-3) and others, and that
ethical directives are drawn from it.6 Any adequate Christology,
especially from believers' churches, should emphasize Jesus' life and
teachings. However, when we ask the historical question of how creeds
arose, it appears—however unwelcome this might be—that the tendency
to summarize Jesus' significance in affirmations which usually omitted
his life and teachings predates even our New Testament writings.
Brief, formulaic expressions of Jesus' significance also appear in the
early apostolic fathers.7 Ignatius of Antioch speaks of Jesus Christ:

5
The Apostolic Preaching and its Developments (New York: Harper & Row, 1964), 17.
According to Dodd, the kerygma appears in Paul in Rom. 1:1-4, 2:16, 8:34,10:8-9,14:9; 1
Cor. 1:23,2:2-5,15:1-7; Gal. 1:3-4,3:1,4:6; and 1 Thess. 1:10.
6
On Paul, see esp. Richard Hays, The Faith of Jesus Christ (Chico, CA: Scholar's, 1983).
For general arguments that New Testament ethics are based primarily on Jesus' story see
John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), 115-134; and
Finger, Christian Theology (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1989), 2:72-89.
'The custom of baptizing in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, which
emerged in New Testament times (Mt. 28:19), gave rise to asking candidates whether they
believed in each of these three and immersing them each time they responded positively.
From this ceremony arose the practice of organizing much catechetical teaching under
these three heads, and eventually of formulating local creeds in tripartite form—see J. N.
D. Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 3rd ed., (New York: David McKay, 1976), 30-61, 88-99.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 35

who was descended from David, and was also of Mary,

who was truly born, and did eat and drink.
He was truly persecuted under Pontius Pilate,
he was truly crucified and died
in the sight of beings in heaven, and on earth, and
under the earth.
He was also truly raised from the dead,
8
his Father quickening him
Ignatius elsewhere affirms that our Lord:
was truly of the seed of David according to the flesh,
and Son of God according to the will and power of God,
that he was truly born of a virgin,
was baptized by John, in order that all righteousness
might be fulfilled by him
and was truly, under Pontius Pilate and Herod the
Tetrarch, nailed [to the cross] for us in his flesh.9
With Ignatius, whose brief affirmations follow a basic narrative
structure, new emphases appear. Along with Jesus' descent from David,
mentioned in the biblical kerygma, we find his birth from the Virgin.
However, the accent lies not on its miraculous nature, but on the fact that
he "was truly born." Pilate now appears in connection with Jesus' death,
again with the effect of emphasizing its concrete historicity. Jesus'
baptism is mentioned, but his life and teachings are otherwise passed
over, except for the fact that he ate and drank, which again stresses his
physical humanity. Ignatius' emphases are clearly designed to counter
docetic and/or gnostic teachings, which had earlier elicited a
confessional affirmation from John (1 Jn. 4:2-3). He mentions Jesus'
ascension and return less. Yet Ignatius by no means reduces Jesus to a
mere human, for he often calls him simply "God."10
When we consider Justin Martyr, whose work abounds with Christus
Victor imagery (Part II below), "we for the first time come across what
can plausibly be taken as quotations of semi-formal creeds."11 Justin,
whose writings emphasize Jesus' teachings, calls him "Teacher" several
times in these summaries.12 Justin once refers with some specificity to

Since we are concerned mostly with what creeds came to say about Jesus, we will not
investigate the evolution of this overall form, but only that of its "second clause."
8
Epistle to the Trallians 9. I am phrasing the translation from Alexander Roberts and
James Donaldson, eds., TJte Ante-iticene Fatliers (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979), 1:70,
following suggestions by Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 68.
epistle to the Smymeans, 1.
10
Ephesians (Greeting, 7,18,19), Trallians, 7, Romans (Greeting, 3,6).
"Kelly, Early Christian Creeds, 71. Justin "had recourse to a developed Christological
kerygma which already enjoyed a measure of fixity " (75)
^First Apology, 13,21
36 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
Jesus' life: "born of a virgin, growing up to man's estate, and healing
every disease and every sickness, raising the dead, and being hated, and
unrecognized, and crucified, and dying, and rising again, and ascending
into heaven."13 Yet the more common pattern of these summaries lists
his virgin birth, crucifixion, death (distinguished from the crucifixion),
raising and ascension.14
Unlike Ignatius, who simply called Jesus "God," Justin undertook
detailed attempts to distinguish the Son's essential nature from that of
the Father. This effort, however, was not unprecedented. For
expressions of the relationship of Son and Father antedate our New
Testament, as do the first creed-like affirmations. Scholars generally
agree that the main texts handling this theme—Phil. 2:5-11, Col. 1:15-20,
Jn. 1:1-18, Heb. 1:2-4—are based on earlier hymns. Justin, like John,
emphasized Jesus' title, logos (Word), and then affirmed "that God begat
before all creatures a Beginning, [who was] a certain rational power
[proceeding] from himself " Justin explained the relationship between
Word and Father as follows:
when we give out some word, we beget the word; yet not by
abscission, so as to lessen the word [which remains] in us, when we
give it out. . . . [Also] fire . . . is not lessened when it has kindled
[another], but remains the same; and that which has been kindled by
it likewise appears to exist by itself, not diminishing that from which
it was kindled.15
While this imagery might suggest that the word or the second fire was
subordinate to the begetter or the first fire, Justin insisted that both were
as inseparable as the sun in the heavens is from its light on earth; Father
and Son were distinct only "numerically," and in the tatter's begetting
the Father's essence remained undivided.16 Thus, 175 years before the
Council of Nicea, this kind of ontological Christology, along with creed-
like affirmations which often omitted Jesus' life, appeared in a strong
proponent of Christus Victor and of Jesus' ethics who himself was
eventually martyred.17
Among the ante-Nicene fathers, only Irenaeus emphasized Christus
Victor more fully than did Justin. However, Irenaeus was also extremely
13
Ibid.,31.
u
First Apology, 42, 46; Dialogue, 63, 85, 126, 132. Pontius Pilate and Jesus' return
appear somewhat less often.
^Dialogue, 61.
^Dialogue, 128.
17
While Justin, like the New Testament and Ignatius, strongly insisted on Jesus'
humanity, he could also affirm it in a more philosophical way: e.g., " . . . Christ, who
appeared for our sakes, became the whole rational being, both body, and reason, and
soul." — Second Apology, 10. Justin also referred to Jesus as both "God and
man."—Dialogue, 71,87. Such affirmations foreshadow Chalcedon.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 37

concerned, in light of gnosticism's challenge, to stress that one "rule" of

faith, which could be stated in varying but similar creed-like
affirmations, was held by all true Christians. This "rule" is now usually
expressed in three sections, covering Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
respectively.18 The second section regularly mentions Jesus' virgin birth,
suffering, resurrection, ascension and return, but makes no specific
references to his life and teachings.19
As he cites this rule, Irenaeus especially stresses that the Son "became
incarnate for our salvation,"20 "he himself uniting humanity through
himself to God."21 The reason for this emphasis was the gnostic
challenge, which denied both that Jesus was fully human and that he was
one with the highest spiritual reality of the cosmos. In response, Irenaeus
repeatedly stressed Jesus' authentic humanity—for had he not been
human, he could neither have been the Second Adam nor truly have
saved us. Yet Irenaeus also emphasized Jesus' full divinity—for were he
not divine, he could not truly have saved us. Thus, 250 years before
Chalcedon, we find Irenaeus, like many who followed him, underlining
Jesus' full deity and humanity, not for metaphysical but for soteriological
reasons.22
Irenaeus usually resisted philosophical language about God. When
gnostics separated Jesus, the Holy Spirit and reality's highest spiritual
principle, Irenaeus basically replied that all three had cooperated in
creation and in salvation history, and that this unity of purpose showed
them to be one God. Perhaps more than any other Christian thinker,
Irenaeus insisted that God acts in creation and history, a theme that
Weaver rightly connects with Christus Victor (485-86). Yet Irenaeus,
who repeatedly called Jesus "the Word," occasionally found it necessary
to speak of God's eternal nature. Bypassing Justin's language, which
might imply subordination of Word to Father and might seem to thereby
support his gnostic opponents, Irenaeus stressed that there was one God
who always existed with his Word and Wisdom (the Spirit).23 Irenaeus

18
Cf.n.7.
19
Against Heresies, 1:10.1, 3:4.2, 3:16.6. The last reference omits Jesus' ascension, while
only the second mentions Pilate.
*°Ibid., 1:10.1.
21
Ibid., 3:4.2; see the fuller emphasis on this in 3:16.6.
^"Unless man had overcome the enemy of man, the enemy would not have been
legitimately vanquished. And again: unless it had been God who had freely given
salvation, we could never have possessed it securely. And unless man had been joined to
God, he could never have become a partaker of incorruptibility. For it was incumbent
upon the mediator between God and men, by his relationship to both, to bring both to
friendship and concord, and present man to God, while he revealed God to man. For, in
what way could we be partakers of the adoption of sons . . . unless his word, having been
madeflesh,had entered into communion with us?"—Ibid., 3:18.7.
^Ibid., 4:20.2.
38 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
also employed ontological phrases such as: "He is all Nous and all Logos
. . . and has in himself nothing more ancient or late than another, and
nothing at variance with another, but continues altogether equal, and
similar, and homogeneous "24
With Irenaeus, we are still 125 years from the Nicean Council. Yet we
have covered enough to evaluate Weaver/s criticisms of it and
Chalcedon. For the tendencies that concern him had been sufficiently
established by this time, long before the Constantinian era.25

II. CRITICISMS OF THE CREEDS: AN EVALUATION

What can we say about Weaver's first complaint: that "the Creeds"
employ unsuitable ontological categories rather than narratives of what
Jesus did or God did through him? We have found that some fairly
abstract language about Jesus' relation to God preceded the New
Testament, that it greatly expanded in Justin, and that Irenaeus,
primarily to speak rightly about salvation, occasionally employed it in
articulating Jesus7 relation to God and humanity. Coherent
developmental lines can be drawn between the "abstract" Christology
found in these sources and that enunciated in the creeds. The latter
formulations, then, are not products of "Constantinianism" but chiefly
the culmination of reflections carried on for centuries in the pre-
Constantinian church. And since Justin and Irenaeus championed
Christus Victor's narrative soteriology, no necessary dichotomy can be
posited between "generic" concepts and narrative concreteness. Claims
that the former suppresses the latter might be justified, but they should
be substantiated by careful analysis of specific documents.
Do the creeds suppress narrative? The Pauline kerygma highlights six
events concerning Jesus, thereby paralleling a narrative outline affirmed
in Acts' early sermons. Frequent variations on this framework appear in
Ignatius, Justin and Irenaeus. Features of Jesus7 life appear three times in
Acts and twice in Justin, but otherwise are not part of this framework
26
—although it generally affirms that Jesus was fully human. The Nicene
24
Ibid., 2:13.8. "God being all Mind, and all Logos, both speaks exactly what he thinks,
and thinks exactly what he speaks. For his thought is Logos, and Logos is Mind, and
Mind comprehending all things is the Father himself." —2:28.5, cf. 1:12.2.
25
A complete tracing of mese developments through Chalcedon, which would far
exceed the limits of this article, would be ideal and would make a great contribution to
believers' church theology.
26
Tertullian enunciates the rule of faith in four texts. One, in his "On Prescription
Against Heretics," mentions some features of Jesus' life: "he preached the new law and the
new promise of the kingdom of heaven, worked miracles " (13). Another, later in the
same treatise (36), mentions only his virgin birth. The other two—''On the Veiling of
Virgins" and "Against Fraxeas"—list Jesus' virgin birth, his death ("crucified under
Pontius Pilate" in the former; suffered, died and was buried in the latter), and his
resurrection, ascent and return, without specific reference to his life.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 39

Creed, however, employs the same general kerygmatìc framework27; and

since the Chalcedonian Definition was intended to supplement Nicea, the
same holds true for it. To be sure, material added on Jesus' person at
Nicea and then expanded at Chalcedon somewhat obscures this outline.
Yet Weaver/s claim that these creeds make "generic'7 statements "rather
than recounting particular deeds that [Jesus] has done or that God has
done through him" is overstated.28 For while the creeds do omit Jesus'
life, they retain the general narrative framework that stretches back to the
early kerygma.
Weaver's third criticism is that the creeds separate Christology from
atonement. I find it hard to determine his exact meaning. The creeds
certainly affirm Jesus' death and resurrection, as do all their predecessors
back to 1 Corinthians 15:1-5. Moreover, the Nicene narrative begins by
stressing that for us "and for our salvation Pie] came down from the
heavens, and was made flesh of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, and
became human... ."29 We have seen that, for Irenaeus, Christus Victor's
chief proponent, these words carried deep salvific meaning. And so did
this joining of divine and human for his pre-Constantinian successors.
Perhaps Weaver finds atonement missing because his historicized
Christus Victor construes it differently. In Part IV, however, I will
further indicate that these creedal phrases, while not comprising a
complete atonement theory, nonetheless resonate with atonement as
understood in the patristic Christus Victor.
Finally, Weaver's second, and probably chief, criticism is that the
creeds "separate Christology from ethics and ecclesiology . . . they
identify Jesus without reference to the ethical dimensions. . . ." (These
phrases have ante-Nicene precedents in creedal material still
unconnected with the Jesus-kerygma by Irenaeus' time.)30 Actually the

27
The Creed of Nicea (325 C.E.) affirms that Jesus "for us human beings and for our
salvation came down and was incarnate and made human," and that he suffered, rose,
ascended and will return. The Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed (381 C.E., usually called
"the Nicene Creed") adds that Jesus became incarnate "from the Holy Spirit and Mary the
Virgin," that he "was crucified for us under Pontius Pilate," that he "was buried," and also
recounts that he suffered, rose, ascended and will return.
^If Weaver is looking for narrative of Jesus' life in the creeds, he will not find it, since
four events in their framework—virgin birth, resurrection, ascension and return—are not
part of this life, at least in the direct (or modern historical-critical) sense. But if he
understands narrative in this latter sense, he cannot claim the kerygma in Acts and Paul
as narrative, since they emphasize approximately the same events as the creeds. Evidence
that Weaver may be thinking primarily of Jesus' life comes from his remark that his
"story-based Christology" will use "the life of Jesus as its foundational categories [sic]"
(288) and that he is mainly stressing the "narrative of the Gospels" (284, n. 13).
2
*In Henry Bettenson, ed.. Documents of the Christian Church, 2nd ed., (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1963), 26 (with "human" substituted for "man").
30
We have missed them because we have not considered earlier material mentioned in
connection with Spirit (see n. 7).
40 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed of 381 (though not the Creed of Nicea
of 325), and accordingly the Chalcedonian Definition, affirm "one holy
catholic and apostolic church" and "one baptism for the remission of
sins." Still, these ecclesial references do not, as Weaver desires, explicitly
identify the Church as constituting those who follow Jesus' way.
However, neither does any proto-creedal material before Constantine, so
far as I know. And only a little of it mentions Jesus' ethical teachings.
Nevertheless, the writers we have consulted, and the pre-Constantinian
church in general, certainly took Jesus7 ethics seriously. What are we to
make of this?
Though it upsets my Mennonite presuppositions, historical evidence
seems to demonstrate that pre-Constantinian Christians both took Jesus'
ethics seriously and yet usually omitted specific mention of them when
rehearsing the essentials of their faith. I do not find this pattern adequate
for Christian confession today. Nor did it prove adequate for the
Constantinian Church wherever verbal confession could be interpreted
as a substitute for ethics. Nonetheless, this basic creedal pattern was
hardly a "product of Constantinianism." For whatever reasons, and
however unwelcome we find it, this pattern began developing very early
in the counter-cultural, pre-Constantinian Church. And since it existed
for several centuries among those who took Jesus' ethics seriously, it
cannot be intrinsically opposed to this orientation.31
If I understand Weaver correctly, these conclusions from historical
research undercut his main objection to the creeds: that they were causal
products of the Constantinian church.32

III. ANOTHER APPROACHTOTHE CREEDS

If classical creedal forms and content are not intrinsically opposed to

narrative and Jesus' ethics, then believers' church theologians can
approach them differently than Weaver recommends. First, we can
regard creeds not as hostile to believers' church concerns, but rather as
incomplete. Historical study shows that efforts to affirm what is
essential to faith in one era often prove inadequate for another. New
challenges arise, and things that could safely be assumed in one setting
need more explicit assertion in the next. It seems impossible that many

31
Nuanced historical investigation can of course show that Jesus' teachings and ethics
had declining influence on the church as it moved into the Constantinian period. For
some careful accounts, see Alan Kreider, "Baptism, Catechism and the Eclipse of the
Teaching of Jesus," first published in the Tyndale Bulletin 47 (Nov. 1996), 315-48 and
reprinted in this issue of MQR, and "Changing Patterns of Conversion in the West" in
Alan Kreider, ed.. The Origins and Spread of Christendom in the West (forthcoming).
32
In his words, that they "reflect their genesis in" (278) and were "developed" by (498)
that Church.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 41

supporters of Nicea, greatly surprised by unexpected imperial favor,

initially failed to realize its dangerous potential for state control of the
church.33 And they may not have realized all the ways in which creedal
forms appropriate for previous generations might not be suitable for
coming ones.
In hindsight, it certainly seems that the Nicene fathers should have
said something about Jesus' ethics or about church and state. But the fact
that they did not is no proof that they all were in Constantine's pocket, or
that their creed was intrinsically opposed to such concerns. If we view
the issues in this way, the problem with the creeds becomes not what
they do say, but what they do not say and how they can be used.3*
Believers' church theologians can carefully attend to what they do say, as
largely continuous with the pre-Constantinian church, while recognizing
that they are incomplete and open to misuse.
Second, however, historical research indicates that the Nicene creed
did contain anti-Constantinian potential. In his book The Radical
Reformation, George Williams has shown that Arianism, which
envisioned Jesus as less than fully God, could regard the emperor as a
parallel manifestation of the Logos, and thus as God's appointee over the
state, just as Jesus was over the church.35 This scheme gave the emperor
final control over the secular realm. But the Nicene creed, which
envisioned Jesus as fully God, regarded him as the final authority over
both state and church. The struggle with Arianism continued until 381,
when the Constantinopolitan Creed, which basically restated Nicene
Christology, finally won widespread approval. Between Nicea and
Chalcedon, many emperors, including Constantine, were sympathetic to
Arianism or actually were Arian.
Williams gives many examples of how Nicea's supporters
increasingly challenged imperial authority, and he argues that this stance
was rooted in their Nicene faith. For example, Athanasius, who was
exiled by emperors four times, came to sharply reject imperial authority
over church councils.36 Although the Nicenes mentioned did not go as

Significant evidence that supporters of Nicea increasingly opposed the emperors

after 325 is found in George Williams, "Christology and Church-State Relations in the
Fourth Century," Church History 20 (Sept. 1951), 3-33; and (Dec. 1951), 3-25.
34
This is a basic argument in my "The Way to Nicea: Some Reflections from a
Mennonite Perspective," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 24 (Spring 1987), 212-31; and, in a
slightly different version, in The Conrad Grebel Review 3 (Fall 1985), 231-49. Weaver, in
fact, affirms that "the creeds are correct" in affirming "that Jesus shares simultaneously the
same substance of deity and of humanity" (287, cf. 484).
35
See n. 34. John Howard Yoder briefly recognized this point in Preface to Theology
(Elkhart, IN: AMBS Co-op Bookstore, 1981), 136.
^Athanasius expressed his normative view in a way that was not entirely true to
history: "When did a judgment of the Church receive its validity from the emperors; or
rather, when was his decree ever recognized by the church? There have been many
42 The Mennonite Quarterly Review

far as the Anabaptists, any simple picture of them unanimously

supporting Constantinianism is quite erroneous. They lend plausibility
to the notion that ascribing full deity to Jesus can, if consistently, worked
out, give his ethics ultimate authority, whereas ascribing lesser status to
him risks granting his ethics lesser social and political value.
Third, believers' church theologians need not regard the creeds as
necessary foundations for Christology; yet they will likely want to give
them significant attention. Weaver often represents those who utilize the
creeds positively as regarding them as Christologically //necessary.,, He
claims, for instance, that I see them as "essential" and want to make "all
of Christology . . . flow through the narrow confines of Nicene-
Chalcedonian terminology" (497). Yet I have affirmed that other biblical
paradoxes regarding Christ (e.g., kingship-servanthood) may be as
significant as his divine-human character.37 Believers' church
theologians should seek to express insights from their traditions
creatively; if avoiding Nicea-Chalcedon proves helpful in this, they can
doso.
Yet while believers' church theologians need not refer to the creeds, I
suspect that many will. They will, first, because the creeds have so
influenced Christology that it is hard to discuss the subject without
considering them. Second, many may well consider, as I do, that the
issues that the creeds address are live ones today. Many people
today—both Christian and non-Christian—regard Jesus as so divine that
he is not fully human; as too ethereal and spiritual to concretely impact
their actual psychological, interpersonal or social situations. Others
regard Jesus as too human to be fully divine—as merely a guide for
personal and social life, and therefore unable to imbue them with God's
presence. Many believers' church theologians will probably ponder the
creeds because they believe that stressing and balancing Jesus' human
and divine dimensions is a pertinent contemporary issue.
Fourth, the creeds cannot be easily critiqued, as they often are, for
being "Greek" and therefore non-biblical constructions. This is not only
because their basic framework is narrative. The usual criticisms affirm or
imply that clear-cut Greek philosophical notions replaced biblical ones.
Yet historical research shows that the key Greek concepts (e.g., ousia

councils held heretofore; and many judgments passed by the Church; but the Fathers
never sought consent of the emperor thereto nor did the emperor busy himself with the
affairs of the Church."—Historia Arianos, as quoted in Williams, "Christology," (Dec. 1951),
12-13.
^Christian Theology, 1:259-60. It is true that I take questions about Jesus' deity and
humanity seriously (2:389-405, 457-79), but chiefly because I regard them as relevant
current issues, not simply because of their place in tradition. Compared to the historical
background that I sketch for other issues in my Christian Theology, I say very little about
patristic Christology.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 43

[essence], phusts [nature]) were debated at length precisely because they

were capable of so many interpretations. Rather than fixed Greek
notions replacing, or seriously altering, biblical ones, we find multivalent
Greek words being discussed, refined and stretched in efforts to express
biblical content. And although the language was Greek, the creeds'
central affirmation—that Jesus was thoroughly human and yet one with
highest spiritual reality—contradicted the Greek Weltanschauung at its
core. Consequently, current theologians need not interpret key creedal
terms in any outmoded Hellenistic way. They can simply take them as
general affirmations, e.g., that whatever it means to be human, Jesus was
fully that; and whatever it means to be divine, Jesus was also fully that.
They can then let biblical content determine what is human and divine.

IV. AN APPROACH TO CHRISTUS VICTOR

Since Christus Victor can be appropriated without setting it sharply

against the creeds, let us consider this motifs content. Most basically,
Christus Victor depicts Jesus' atoning work as a conflict between the
forces of God and the forces of evil. Jesus opposes the latter during his
life, is apparently conquered by them in his death, but triumphs over
them through his resurrection. Weaver traces this conflict through Jesus'
ministry. He stresses good news to the poor and love for enemies as
basic features of God's reign; and Jesus' rejection of Satan's approach to
power in the wilderness and at Peter's confession as flash points of the
struggle (281-83). In such a motif, Jesus, God's reign, and later the
Church clearly stand over against the forces that otherwise rule the
world.
In patristic writings Jesus' opponents were conceived of chiefly as
spiritual powers, most often as some combination of Satan, his demons,
Sin and Death. However, some fathers connected these opponents with
contemporary religious and political forces.
Weaver's historicized version treats these powers not as "independent
entities" but as "'spiritual' dimensions of material structures." For
"power does not exist independent of a material incorporation or
system," whose spiritual or inner dimension Weaver equates with its
"collective cultural ethos" (489). The conflict, then, is between "real
forces in the material world"—between Jesus and "ruling institutions . . .
whether Roman or Jewish."38
Weaver's characterizations of God's reign and of Jesus' struggle with
Satan, as sequenced through his life, death and resurrection, are biblical
and acceptable. However, if believers' church theology were to consider

^Weaver, "Atonement for the NonConstantinian Church," Modern Theology 6 (July

1990), 309.
44 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
the patristic elaboration of this motif more fully, might Weaver's
historicized interpretation be altered or supplemented? Space permits
consideration of only Justin Martyr and Irenaeus.
Justin certainly underlines the importance of ethics. He repeatedly
affirms that God gave humans reason and free will, and that "those who
choose what is pleasing to Him are, on account of their choice, deemed
worthy of incorruption and of fellowship with him."39 Justin also
emphasizes Jesus' teachings in particular. He stresses that Christians
"who valued above all things the acquisition of wealth and possessions,
now bring what we have into a common stock, and communicate to
every one in need; we who hated and destroyed one another . . . now live
familiarly with them, and pray for our enemies '/4°
Yet while Christian life is rational and ethical, it is not pursued on this
plane alone. For the Church is continually being assaulted by demonic
powers operating in religious and political spheres. Justin envisions
Jesus' overall work as a conquest of such powers.41 The main elements
which Weaver finds in Christus Victor also appear in Justin.
Yet Justin does not identify the demonic powers directly with
religious or political structures. He ascribes to them a more spiritual,
quasi-personal character. They work on the psyches of those who
participate in these structures, by frightening them, for example, or by
intensifying their lust.42 Justin warns the Roman rulers that such powers
"strive to hold you their slaves and servants . . . they subdue all who
make no strong opposing effort "43
To be sure, such an understanding of demonic powers carries
liabilities. It can lead one to attribute every untoward occurrence to their
agency, blinding one to other sorts of causation. It can induce irrational
fears of the macabre and esoteric. Yet if one does not distinguish these
powers in some way from institutions and their leaders, one can wholly
demonize the latter two and deny that Christ's victory can impact them
in any way. If, however, some distinction exists, Christians can strongly
warn political leaders, as Justin did, that the potential for great evil lies
close at hand; and yet, while not underestimating this potential, still
remain open for these leaders to possibly change.
I am not sure that a historicized interpretation can adequately
distinguish the evil working through institutions from their particular

39
First Apology, 10; cf. 8,12,21,28,43,61,65; Second Apology, 4,7; Dialogue, 88,93,102.
^First Apology, 14; cf. 15-16, 39; Dialogue 85, 110, 133. Although he is defending
Christians against persecution, Justin asks that those who claim the Christian name but do
not really live this way actually be punished by Rome! —First Apology, 16.
A1
First Apology, 63; Second Apology, 6; Dialogue, 41,45,100,125.
*2First Apology, 5,10.
43
Ibid., 14.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 45

leaders and structures. Perhaps in a fuller explanation of his position

Weaver would try to show how it can. In any case, if we take Justin
seriously, we cannot easily assume that the demonic must be wholly
demythologized and interpreted without remainder in sociological
terms.44 Quasi-personal notions (albeit ones leaving room for structural
dimensions) may still convey something to a generation increasingly
puzzled by evil's uncanny, elusive, yet apparently purposeful,
operations. Of course, such evil powers are extremely mysterious, and
theologians will probably never conceptualize their character exactly.45
While Justin emphasizes Jesus7 teachings, he indicates that their effect
transcends the ethical dimension, narrowly considered: "the words of the
Saviour . . . possess a terrible power in themselves . . . while the sweetest
rest is afforded those who make a diligent practice of them/'46 "For the
word of His truth and wisdom is more ardent and more light-giving than
the rays of the sun, and sinks down into the depths of heart and mind/'47
Justin can speak of baptism (administered to adults) as regeneration and
illumination; of the Eucharist as transmutation,·48 and of salvation in
general as incorruption and deification.49 In these ways he is referring to
an inward, personal dimension of Christian experience which was
brought out much more fully by other advocates of Christus Victor,
especially Irenaeus.
Overall, several themes are inseparably related in Justin Martyr: a
stress on Jesus' teachings along with creed-like summaries that usually
omit them; a strong ethical emphasis along with an ontological
Christology; and a Christus Victor strain that highlights both the social
and the quasi-personal dimensions of the powers.

^While Justin emphasized such powers1 political and religious impact, he was so
convinced mat they were also spiritual beings that he, like other early fathers, often
referred to their continuing exorcism as evidence of Christianity's power.—Second Apology,
6,8; Dialogue, 30,76,84,121.
^My best understanding at this point is that evil powers should not be regarded as
fully personal, because only God is such, and because their effect is to depersonalize
humans. Yet I also resist regarding them wholly in sociological or psychological terms,
for this not only risks identifying them with particular structures or illnesses but also
implies that if we knew enough about these fields, we could fully understand their
operations. Perhaps some paradoxical description as "impersonal, de-personalizing
personal powers" would best indicate their nature.—See my Christian Theology, 2:146-59,
163 and, with Willard Swartley, "Deliverance and Bondage: Biblical and Theological
Perspectives,11 10-38 in Essays on Bondage and Deliverance, ed. Willard Swartley (Elkhart,
IN: Institute of Mennonite Studies, 1988).
^Dialogue, 8.
47
Ibid., 121.
^Firsf Apology, 61,66.
49
First Apology, 10,13,19,21,33; Dialogue 45,117, etc. According to Second Apology, 13,
"participation and imitation" of Christ are "according to the grace which is from him."
46 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
Whereas Justin frequently mentions current conflicts with demons
and Jesus' mission to free humankind from Satanic bondage, Irenaeus
develops the latter theme more thoroughly. He stresses that being under
this bondage separates us from God and destines us towards darkness,
corruption and death.50 Nonetheless, all humans, including Adam and
Eve, have been created as children and designed to grow gradually
towards maturity. This growth process includes what we call ethical
development. Therefore Irenaeus, like Justin, stresses the narrative of
Jesus7 life and his redemptive role as Teacher. "For in no other way
could we have learned the things of God/7 he says, ". . . than by seeing
our Teacher, and hearing his voice with our own ears, that, having
become imitators of his works as well as doers of his words, we may
have communion with him, receiving increase from the perfect One. . .
."51 Yet this ethical process is intertwined with a "spiritual77 one—an
increasing participation in the incorruptability, or life, of God. The
interweaving of both dimensions is absolutely central to Irenaeus7
anthropology and his understanding of atonement, though his latter
emphasis is little mentioned in Weavers theology.
Accordingly, Jesus7 defeat of evil powers has several sides. On one
level, Irenaeus affirms that Jesus opposed Satan's ways, and that his
righteous behavior showed Satan's to be unrighteous. In the wilderness,
for instance, the Devil tempted Jesus to disobey God7s law by quoting
from it; yet Jesus, by responding according to the law's true intent,
showed that his opponent was transgressing the law and was
condemned by this act. Through such a contest, the devil was "exposed
in hi£ true colors77 and "bound with the same chains [e.g. transgression of
God7s command] with which he had bound man. . . ."52 Irenaeus
stresses that this kind of conquest was not only just but also non-violent:
since the apostasy tyrannized over us unjustly, and, though we were
by nature property of the omnipotent God, alienated us contrary to
nature . . . the Word of God . . . did righteously turn against that
apostasy and redeem from it his own property, not by violent means,
as the [apostasy] had obtained dominion over us at the beginning,

^Against Heresies, 5:27.2. God does not punish humans directly; yet because they have
chosen this bondage, and thus this separation, "punishment falls upon them because they
are destitute of all that is good."
51
Ibid., 5:1.1. On the importance of the ethical in Irenaeus, see especially 3:25.1; 4:2.3-7,
16.5,18.6, 22.2, 32.2-7, 37:1-2, and 39.1. On the love of enemies in particular, see 3:18.5
and 4:13.3.
52
Ibid., 5:21.3. —Thus "man, being set free, might return to his Lord, leaving to him
(Satan) those bonds by which he himself had been fettered, that is, sin. For when Satan is
bound, man is set free " In this way the Word "made spoil of his goods—namely those
men whom he held in bondage, and whom he unjustly used for his own purposes. And
justly indeed is he led captive, who had led men into bondage "
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 47

when it violently snatched away what was not its own, but by means
of persuasion, as became a God of counsel, who does not use violent
means to obtain what he desires 53
More often, however, Irenaeus speaks of this conquest occurring not
externally—through direct confrontation between Jesus and Satan—but
internally, within the process of human moral-spiritual growth. His key
concept is "recapitulation.77 Since Adam, Eve and all other humans
underwent the growth process under Satan's bondage, Jesus had to
reverse, or recapitulate, it as it was intended to be: in complete obedience
to God.54 Jesus "therefore passed through every age77 that we do
(infancy, childhood, etc.) in such obedience. This included becoming 7/an
example of piety, righteousness, and submission... ." He finally passed
through death, becoming the first-born from the dead and "the Prince of
Life, existing before all, and going before all.7755
Yet though this process included ethical development, something
more was involved. Through it, a human being participated more and
more fully in the divine life, as God had intended for Adam and Eve:
"the Word of God . . . became the Son of man, that he might accustom
man to receive God, and God to dwell in man. . . ,7756 Through this
process, this person matured in full fellowship with God, experiencing
the stages of life as God intended, and free from bondage to the powers.
Our salvation consists essentially in being united with this person in such
a way that we participate in his full humanity and in his communion
with God: "he who was the Son of God became the Son of man, that man,
having been taken into the Word, and receiving the adoption, might
become the son of God.77 Yet, as noted above in Part I, this could not
have occurred had Jesus not been fully human and fully divine:
for by no other means could we have attained to incorruptibility and
immortality, unless we had been united to incorruptibility and
immortality. But how could we be joined to incorruptibility and
immortality unless, first, incorruptibility and immortality had become
that which we also are, so that the corruptible might be swallowed up
by immortality.. .?57
Once again we see how closely Irenaeus7 Christology is tied to his
understanding of salvation, or atonement.

^Ibid., 5:1.1.
^For "what is joined together could not otherwise be put asunder than by inversion of
the process by which these bonds of union had arisen; so that the former ties be canceled
by the latter, that the latter may set the former at liberty."—Ibid., 3:22.4.
^Ibid., 2:22.4; cf. 3:18.7,21.10-22.1,22.3-4.
^Ibid., 3:20.2.
57
Ibid., 3:19.1; cf. 3:16.6,5:1.1.
48 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
It is chiefly through taking up humans who respond to him by faith
into his own divine-human unity that the risen Jesus releases people
from Satan7s bondage and conquers him. Those so taken up constitute
the Church, a corporate group being shaped by Jesus7 divine life,
teaching and character.
Irenaeus discusses this growing relationship with God with
penetrating insight. He notes that his opponents, the gnostics, crave
instant spiritual perfection; therefore they are "unwilling to be at the
outset what they have also been created—men subject to passions.77
Instead, "before that they become men, they wish to be even now like
77
God In contrast, God has created us to be "at first merely men, then
at length gods.7758 Consequently, when God7s Spirit begins "preparing
us for incorruption/7 we are only "little by little accustomed to receive
and bear God "59 This means that authentic spiritual growth must go
hand in hand with other kinds of human growth, including the ethical.
However, it also means that Christian discipleship cannot be understood
merely in ethical terms, for its overall goal is increasing participation in
God7slife.
Yet if God desires that humans "receive and bear God,77 why does this
require a slow, lengthy process? Irenaeus responds that humans can
only participate in goodness and God through learning about them by
experience. Accordingly, God allows us to choose both evil and good so
that, having experienced the former, we may see how it deprives us of
life and "never attempt it at all.7760 Moreover, having to wait for God7s
favors teaches one to "know himself, how mortal and weak he is,77 and
never to suppose "that the incorruptibility which belongs to him is his
own naturally,77 but that it is something for which one is wholly
dependent on God.61 Such an awareness undercuts the tendency, found
among many who emphasize moral or spiritual progress, to suppose that
such progress is the fruit of their own goodness and strength.
We are prone to such a tendency, Irenaeus says, because our bondage
under Satan obscures God7s love toward us and weakens our gratitude;

^Ibid., 4:38.4; cf. 4:39.2. God "bestowed the faculty of increase on his own creation,
and called him upwards from lesser things to those greater ones which are in his own
presence... ."—2:28.1, cf. 4:11.2.
59
Ibid., 5:8.1. For the connection of the Spirit's work with recapitulation, see
5:20.2.
«"'Ibid., 4:39.1.
61
Ibid., 3:20.2,1. We are to learn "by experience that we possess eternal duration from
the excelling power of this Being, not from our own nature" so that "we may neither
undervalue that glory which surrounds God as he is, nor be ignorant of our own nature..
. ." (5:2.3). This emphasis corresponds with Irenaeus' insistence (2:34.4), shared with
Justin (Dialogue, 5-6), that human souls are not inherently immortal but receive eternal life
only as a gift from God.
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 49

this leads us to underestimate how much greater God is than we.62 But
when we are liberated from Satan by God, we recognize God7s
greatness—not in a way that makes us feel distant but in a way that
moves us to love God and to experience greater freedom because of this
love.63 Ultimately, such a love causes our ethical and spiritual growth
and allows freedom to flourish. Irenaeus, then, often advocates
contemplating God in such a way that our love, and hence our
participation in God's divine life, increases. This contemplation seems to
consist largely in a way of life that focuses on Jesus—in "seeing our
Teacher, and hearing his voice . . . that, having become imitators of his
works as well as doers of his deeds, we may have communion with him,
receiving increase from the perfect one.... / / 6 4 In this way we not only
execute his commands but experience 7/the friendship of God77 which,
Irenaeus says, "imparts immortality 7765
Irenaeus speaks of the same reality as beholding the light. Humans
behold God7s light through beholding Jesus, the Word made flesh.66 On
one hand, this involves what Mennonites think of as discipleship. For /7to
follow the Saviour77 is "to follow light,77 which at the same time "is to
receive light."67 Yet this beholding also involves what we often think of
as more mystical aspects: "For as those who see the light are within the
light, and partake of its brilliancy; even so, those who see God are in
God, and receive of his splendour. But this splendour vivifies them;
those, therefore, who see God do receive life."68 In the final analysis,
what we often distinguish as the ethical and the spiritual cannot be
separated in Irenaeus. He sums up his anthropology by affirming that
"the glory of God is a living man," by which he means a person
energized in all dimensions of being human; and yet, in the final
analysis, this "life of man consists in beholding God."69
However much one might admire his effort, one might still object that
the way Irenaeus bridges the ethical and spiritual, which construes
e2
Against Heresies, 3:20.1.
^''Trte more extensive operation of liberty implies that a more complete subjection and
affection towards our Liberator had been implanted within us" (4:13.3).
^Ibid., 5:1.1, quoted above (see n. 52).
^Ibid., 4:13.4.
^Ibid., 4:20.3-4.
67
Ibid., 4:14.1.
^Ibid., 4:20.5. Later Orthodox commentators would say that Irenaeus is speaking here
of a special vision of "uncreated light," a theme emphasized especially by Symeon the
New Theologian (949-1022) and Gregory Palamas (1296-1359). These writers claim that
although human vision must be supernaturally aided in such experiences—"man does not
see God by his own powers" (Against Heresies 4:20.5)—one nevertheless makes direct
contact with God's uncreated reality in them and thereby is enlivened by the divine life.
Orthodox tradition holds that such a vision took place during Jesus' transfiguration before
Peter, James and John (Mk. 9:2-8 & parallels).
^ i d . , 4:20.7
50 The Mennonite Quarterly Review
salvation as "divinization," is unsuitable for current believers' church
theology. Yet in The Concept of Grace in the Radical Reformation Alvin
Beachy argued that the Anabaptists understood salvation in just this
way, and that this is what chiefly differentiated them from the Protestant
reformers. Anabaptismo relatively higher estimate of the capacities of
redeemed humans, Beachy claimed, did not rest on a more optimistic
view of the "natural man,/ so much as on the renewing activity of Jesus
as "the Recapitulator of a new humanity, somewhat after the manner of
Irenaeus/,7° In assessing this claim, however, "divinization" should not
be crudely understood as becoming God, but as being renewed by divine
energies, as most Orthodox today understand it. I have briefly argued
elsewhere for the predominance of this theme in historic Anabaptism.71

CONCLUSIONS

Justin Martyr and Irenaeus were probably the two chief patristic
proponents of the Christus Victor motif. Writing well before
Constantine, and representing a counter-cultural church that experienced
severe persecution, they can give today's believers' church theologians
much insight into its meaning. J. Denny Weaver has rightly stressed that
this motif can aid theology in articulating the conflict between Jesus' way
and that of the world. Yet Justin and Irenaeus can help unite elements
that are still distanced in Weaver's retrieval.
While both writers frequently emphasize Jesus' teaching and example,
they nonetheless affirm many creed-like statements that fail to mention
these. And while both are deeply rooted in scripture's narrative
portrayals of Jesus, they discuss the kinds of ontological issues that
found resolution at Nicea and Chalcedon. These phenomena show that
"the Creeds" omission of Jesus' teachings and their use of ontological
language were not products of Constantinianism, and that affirming the
creeds today need not (although it of course can) minimize ethics and
narrative.
Further, Justin's understanding of the demonic involves both social
and spiritual dimensions, whereas Weaver's is largely reduced to the
former. And while Irenaeus deeply intertwines the ethical and the
spiritual, Weaver strongly emphasizes the former (though he briefly
affirms the latter). I do not mean to imply that Weaver would oppose all
the bridgings that a study of these writers suggests.72 Yet as it now stands
70
Tlie Concept of Grace intiieRadical Reformation (Nieuwkoop: B. DeGraaf, 1977), 208, cf.
4.
^See "Anabaptism and Eastern Orthodoxy: Some Unexpected Similarities?11 Journal of
Ecumenical Studies 31 (Winter-Spring 1994), 76-83.
72
Weaver affirms, in fact, that his "historicized Christus Victor" can accommodate
trinitarianism and an "ontological Christology" (495-96).
 Christus Victor and the Creeds 51

his proposal for retrieving Christus Victor distances the creedal, the
ontological and the spiritual from the exemplary, the narrative and the
social-ethical.
Weaver seems to affirm that if today's Mennonites are to avoid
succumbing to mainstream Americanism, they must emphasize the latter
three somewhat against the former three. In my view, this kind of
differentiating would more likely occasion divisions within Mennonites
and other believers' churches. It might convey to those who treasure
their faith's doctrinal and/ or spiritual elements that they must minimize
these things, if not give them up, if they want to become socially active.
It might persuade the socially concerned that they need not bother much
with doctrine or spirituality.
In contrast, a study of the patristic period can help show us how these
emphases need not be divided, and it can help us reflect on the biblical
writings, where they are not divided either. They can aid today's
believers' church theologians in insisting that doctrinally or spiritually
minded people must also make social and ethical commitments, and that
the socially and ethically minded need to invest effort in formulating
their beliefs and in prayer. These combined emphases, it seems to me,
will most likely produce strong believers' churches whose lives and
teachings challenge mainstream America.
 ^ s
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