Who is Christ? Unamuno, Life 4.7

Who is Christ? Unamuno presents two grand visions of the Lord: one from Athanasius, and the other from a long line of heretics whose contemporary representative is the theologian Harnack. Athanasius makes Christ a divinity-turned-human, while the heretics conceive him as humanity-turned-divine. Unamuno prefers the Christ of Athanasius, like the devout Catholic he is.


Después de Pablo rodaron los años y las generaciones cristianas, trabajando en torno de aquel dogma central y sus consecuencias para asegurar la fe en la inmortalidad del alma individual, y vino el Niceno, y en él aquel formidable Atanasio, cuyo nombre es ya un emblema, encarnación de la fe popular. Era Atanasio un hombre de pocas letras, pero de mucha fe, y sobre todo, de la fe popular, henchido de hambre de inmortalidad. Y opúsose al arrianismo, que, como el protestantismo unitariano y sociniano amenazaba, aun sin saberlo ni quererlo, la base de esa fe. Para los arrianos, Cristo era ante todo un maestro, un maestro de moral, el hombre perfectísimo, y garantía por lo tanto de que podemos los demás llegar a la suma perfección; pero Atanasio sentía que no puede el Cristo hacernos dioses si él antes no se ha hecho Dios; si su divinidad hubiera sido por participación, no podría habérnosla participado. «No, pues —decía—, siendo hombre se hizo después Dios, sino que siendo Dios se hizo después hombre para que mejor nos deificara (θεοποιήσῃ)» (Orat. I, 30). No era el Logos de los filósofos, el Logos cosmológico el que Atanasio conocía y adoraba. Y así hizo se separasen naturaleza y revelación. El Cristo atanasiano o niceno, que es el Cristo católico, no es el cosmológico ni siquiera en rigor el ético, es el eternizador, el deificador, el religioso. Dice Harnack de este Cristo, del Cristo de la cristología nicena o católica, que es en el fondo docético, esto es, aparencial, porque el proceso de la divinización del hombre en Cristo se hizo en interés escatológico; pero ¿cuál es el Cristo real? ¿acaso ese llamado Cristo histórico de la exégesis racionalista que se nos diluye o en un mito o en un átomo social?

Este mismo Harnack, un racionalista protestante, nos dice que el arrianismo o unitarismo habría sido la muerte del cristianismo, reduciéndolo a cosmología y a moral, y que sólo sirvió de puente para llevar a los doctos al catolicismo, es decir, de la razón a la fe. Parécele a este mismo docto historiador de los dogmas, indicación de perverso estado de cosas, el que el hombre Atanasio, que salvó al cristianismo como religión de la comunión viva con Dios, hubiese borrado al Jesús de Nazaret, al histórico, al que no conocieron personalmente ni Pablo ni Atanasio, ni ha conocido Harnack mismo. Entre los protestantes, este Jesús histórico sufre bajo el escalpelo de la crítica mientras vive el Cristo católico, el verdaderamente histórico, el que vive en los siglos garantizando la fe en la inmortalidad y la salvación personales. 


After Paul, the years went by, and so did generations of Christians, working out that central dogma and its consequences in order to make sure of our faith in the immortality of the individual soul. Then came the generation of Nicaea, and within it the formidable Athanasius, whose name is still an emblem, giving vivid shape to popular faith. Athanasius was a man of few letters, but much faith, and especially the faith of the common people, which is swollen with hunger for immortality. He opposed the doctrine of Arius, which threatened the foundation of that faith blindly, not realizing or desiring what it did—just as Unitarian and Socinian Protestantism would do later (†). For the Arians, Christ was before all else a teacher—a moral instructor, the most perfect man—and in keeping with this, his gospel guaranteed that the rest of us can achieve moral perfection. But Athanasius felt that Christ cannot make us gods unless he has also made himself God, already. If his divinity were simply a matter of participation, of sharing with the Father, then he would not have been able to share it with us. "Nay!" Athanasius said. "It is not that being a man, he made himself God, but that being God, he made himself man, in order thus to create us in the divine image (to deify us, in Greek)" (Oration 1.30). It was not the Word of the philosophers, the rational Order of the cosmos, that Athanasius knew and worshiped. And so he caused a separation between nature and revelation. The Christ of Athanasius or Nicaea, the Catholic Christ, is neither a force of nature nor (if we speak carefully) a moral exemplar: he is a creator of eternity, a god-maker, a religious messiah. Harnack, speaking of this Christ, the one that rises from Nicene or Catholic Christology, says that he is fundamentally docetic (‡)—a revelation made manifest darkly, in symbols, because the process of divinizing the man in Christ took on an eschatological flavor. But which of our options is the actual Christ? Is it perchance the so-called historical Christ revealed by rational exegesis, who dissolves before us into either a myth, or a tiny social artifact?

This same Harnack (*), a rational Protestant, tells us that Arianism or Unitarianism would have been the death of Christianity, reducing it to cosmology and ethics, and that the only historical purpose of the heresy was to serve as a bridge between the learned and Catholicism—between reason and faith, in other words. Here we have an indication of the perverse state of things! Our learned historian of dogma seems to think that the man Athanasius, who saved Christianity as a religion that cultivates living communion with God, might have erased the historical Jesus of Nazareth, a figure unknown to Paul or Athanasius, and unknown to Harnack, too. Thus, among the Protestants the historical Jesus suffers still under critics' scalpel, while the Catholic Christ remains truly and historically alive, enduring over the centuries, keeping watch over our faith in personal immortality and salvation.


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(†) The Unitarian movement began in the 16th century CE, in northern Europe. Unitarians denied the divinity of Jesus, whom they regarded as a prophet and moral exemplar, but not God in the flesh. One early witness of their doctrine was Peter Gonesius (Piotr of Goniądz, c. 1525-1573): On January 22nd, 1556, he attended a synod of the Reformed Church of Poland in Secemin, where he denounced the doctrine of the Trinity, which this church, following Calvin, accepted; he was excommunicated the same year by another synod in Pińczów, but many folk followed him out, enough to constitute a sect known as the Polish Brethren. This sect became a refuge for many homeless heretics, including two brothers from the Tuscan Sozzini family, Lelio and Fausto, who found their way to Poland and published many tracts along the way supporting and elaborating Unitarian doctrines that were called Socinian in light of their Latin surname, Socinus. One doctrine worth noting here: Fausto explicitly denied the immortality of the soul. In 1658, the Sejm expelled the Polish Brethren from the country, suspecting them of having collaborated with the Protestant Swedes in a recent invasion, and they scattered abroad, to the duchy of Prussia, the Netherlands, and Transylvania. Once removed from Poland, they were called Unitarians.

(‡) Some early Christians believed that Christ was an illusion, that his humanity was no more real or actual than that of Athena, when she takes human forms in the Homeric epics. They were called Docetists from the Greek word δοκεῖν, meaning to seem, to pretend (cf. Eusebius, Historia Ecclesiastica 6.12).

(*) Carl Gustav Adolf von Harnack (1851-1930) was a contemporary of Unamuno, a Baltic German theologian and church historian who published many works as part of a long and distinguished academic career at Lutheran universities. His outlook on early Christianity was sober and rational, rejecting miracles, the gospel of John (whose apostolic authority he vigorously disputed), and the value of speculative theology. What remained, the essence of Harnack's Christianity, was a system of ethics for relating well to oneself, one's neighbor, and the world at large. This system did not prevent him from signing the Manifesto of the 93, a document which justified German actions at the commencement of the first World War (it was published on October 4th, 1914). Karl Barth (1886-1968) cited this action of Harnack's as one of his main reasons for repudiating liberal theology.