The Church in the Age of Constantine

The Theological Challenges

Johannes Roldanus

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2006
• ISBN:
  9781134131778
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Histoire
• Subtopic: Histoire antique

The Church in the Age of Constantine provides a refined theological screening of the doctrinal and ethical thinking during the fourth century.

Relating biblical essentials to ancient cosmology and anthropology, Roldanus uses the concept of 'contextualisation' to appreciate this process. He makes clear that, however much the winning positions were dependent on the interfering of the State, the theological reflection went nevertheless its proper way, conditioned as it was by various understandings of salvation-in-Christ. There was a natural concern to relate salvation to the most important elements of the existing culture.

Providing models for reflection on inculturation, this study helps students to focus on the essentials and to form and unprejudiced opinion on this crucial period of history.

1 Earlier contextualisation

Our first question is how Christianity had developed to take the shape it had on the threshold to the fourth century. Of the areas we identified as fields of our investigation of contextualisation, we will concentrate on the first two: the relation between Church and State and the legacy of paganism. Both recommend subdivision into two aspects, the latter being the logical consequence of the first. Thus we will treat four issues:

1. the relations between the Christians and the Roman Empire and its social and religious life;
2. the repercussions of Church growth and of the persecutions on the traditional group morality;
3. the selective association with philosophical school traditions on themes of ethics and anthropology;
4. the Salvation in Christ as response to the various needs for salvation of the epoch.

The Christians and the Roman Empire and society

Exposed to the arbitrariness of the emperors and their political motives, as well as to the contemptuous masses, third-century Christians had to reflect on their position. On the one hand, they assented to the allegation of being different and keeping aloof from common ceremonies and amusement, accounting for this attitude. On the other, they emphasised their positive contribution to society in the fields of true worship and of morality. Most Christian leaders appreciated the Roman Empire as a peace-assuring world order, and the Emperor as God’s mighty servant, but not without attacking his claim on religious veneration by his subjects.

The third century began with persecutions, provoked by Emperor Severus’ prohibition of conversions to Judaism and Christianity (202). These persecutions also struck those who were already Christians, and they were particularly felt in Egypt and North Africa. Beginning with Severus – himself of African origin – the emperorship came into the hands of army commanders who had been successful on the battlefield and – often as well – in eliminating one or more rivals. After their victory, the Senate in Rome would entrust such ‘saviours of the State’ with the imperial dignity. These ‘military emperors’ were more and more natives of the eastern provinces. They introduced their religions from at home and during the period up to 249 the imperial court sometimes showed an interest in the Christian religion. But the general climate was one of syncretism.

A page was turned in the attitude of the Roman State towards the Christians in the year 249. Emperor Decius gave the unusual command of a general sacrifice to the Roman gods in order to satisfy more effectively the military and economic needs of the time. These public sacrifices, to which the entire population was summoned under strict police control, were meant to secure the favour of the gods who once had made Roman dominion so glorious. A cultic act of this tenor had no relation with personal religious needs; it only aimed at public welfare and did not preclude anybody from participating. Only the Christians, who held to the exclusive worship of the God who had revealed himself in Jesus, rejected all other religious allegiance. The Emperor’s edict put heavy pressure on the Christians to betray their faith and commit apostasy. The Christian standards forbade not only the veneration of other gods but also all bloody sacrifices, since the sacrifice of Christ on Calvary had made them obsolete.

The Roman authorities knew well that Christians were not allowed to sacrifice. Therefore, the pressure to sacrifice was used as a shibboleth either to make those accused of being Christians renounce, or to ascertain their tenacity, regarded as a foolish and punishable obstinacy.¹ New is that from Decius onwards the sacrificial act was no longer a means of detection, but a purpose in itself. This has to do with an increasing intertwining of religion and politics, a trend we shall meet again as background of the last persecution and of Constantine’s preference for the Christian religion. Decius’ aim was not primarily to exterminate the Christian population but to align them with the Roman conception of civic duty and allegiance to the Commonwealth. Another new aspect was that the authorities were now taking the initiative and, consequently, had to keep their eyes on the Christians and their leaders, lest a part of the population would dissociate from placating the gods (who would not fail to notice this hiatus).

According to Decius’ aims, the first wave of coercion brought more cases of imprisonment, torture and banishment than of death penalties. There were some martyrs, but many more so-called ‘confessors’, i.e., those who did not deny their faithfulness in spite of the torments they had to undergo. Their perseverance was seen as sign of an indwelling divine force. They gained high esteem in comparison to the many others who cracked under the pressure, or even tried to escape from it by rushing to the ceremony and obtaining a certificate. Confessors gained even more authority than leaders of the community who withdrew themselves for a while, as Bishop Cyprian of Carthage did. Nevertheless, the Emperor’s action did not bring the result he had expected. The communities did not dissolve. The action fizzled out and stopped abruptly at the sudden death of Decius in 251.

After a pause, Valerian renewed the general persecution in 257. Because of the previous experience of the authorities with the admonition and support given by the church leaders, the Emperor aimed at an elimination of the leadership in order to break down the organisation of the Church. This time, Bishop Cyprian neither could nor would escape and he suffered martyrdom in 258. During the first wave and immediately afterwards the leaders had succeeded in keeping together and in encouraging their flocks, as we will see in the next section. Now the clerics were the first to be forced to sacrifice and, in case of refusal, to be put to death immediately. Christians of high status suffered loss of their social rank and their goods and were, in many cases, condemned to imprisonment or forced labour. Church attendance was threatened with capital punishment. But again, the persecution did not cause a complete apostasy, and in 261 a new emperor, Gallienus, recalled all the edicts against the Christians.

This was the beginning of a period of peace and de-facto tolerance, which lasted forty years until a new general persecution was launched by the edicts of Diocletian of 303 (see Chapter 2, pp. 29–30). During this period of calm, the Christians increased in number and influence and counted among their members many soldiers and court officials. This poses the question of how far the Christians, in spite of their illegal status, were loyal to the Roman Empire and its institutions.

There is evidence that from c. 200 Christians were accused of withdrawing from normal social life, from religious solidarity and from active support of the Empire. We start with social life and will soon touch religious attitude since, as a matter of fact, social life was linked up with religion.²

The unknown author of the Letter to Diognetus and Tertullian in his Apologeticum both emphasise that Christians do not differ much from their fellow human beings: they do not have different languages or habits; they have the same professions and contribute to economic life. They do not live in separate territories nor intend to become a nation or political group. All they do is to exhibit a different and remarkable morality, but in spite of that they are treated as outcasts, accused of hatred of mankind and of being the cause of disasters.³

Tertullian particularly stressed that his fellow believers were no political agitators and were not after any glory or power: ‘we just have in mind one commonwealth for all, the world’.⁴

Most apologists of the period between 125 and 250 point at the inoffensive, gentle and moderate character of the Christians, which results from the fact that they follow Christ’s teachings: Roman society and state do not have to fear any revolutionary action from them. At the same time, they also mention the kind of feasts in which no Christian would ever take part.⁵ Tertullian cites the Saturnalia, an effusive midwinter carnival, theatre performances, gladiatorial fights, incense burning before the idols and ex voto offerings in the temples. ‘Even though I do not attend your ceremonies, am I not a human being at those days?’ he ironically asks.⁶ But, in their opinion, the refusal to take part in licentious pleasures and erroneous ceremonies was not just a negative attitude: by their example of true worship and their high morality, the communities are an agent of education. Origen points to the prayers which, when combined with just behaviour and abstinence from pleasures, are a contribution to public welfare. Christians exceed others in usefulness for their fatherland, because they teach their fellow citizens piety towards God, who is not only guarding the earthly city, but also preparing for the heavenly city those who lead a good life.⁷

Some early Christian writers defined their group as a ‘new people’ or the ‘third race’.⁸ This led some of them to emphasise the sharp difference between their way of life and that of others.⁹ Clement of Alexandria says that each of the three races is characterised by a particular way of life.¹⁰ Origen contrasts two types of communities: Christians are the ‘political opponents to the communities of superstitious, licentious and unjust men’; in every city they form a countergroup, over against the normal, civic community.¹¹ By stressing their specific Christian rules and conduct, they tended to present themselves as a people in their own right, and as a political entity. This emphasis on contrast, however, did not exclude declarations of loyalty to the Roman world dominion and legal system.

By stressing both aspects, viz., turning from idolatry, debauchery and violence, and the service of the only true God by self-control and neighbourly love, the apologists often presented the Christians as the Emperor’s most devoted subjects. They argued that if the others behave correctly it would be because they dreaded punitive measures, whereas Christians would obey the laws because of their obedience to Christ’s admonitions. Their motivation to behave correctly was the consequence of an inner conviction: ‘They obey the laws, and by their way of life are even exceeding them’.¹² This type of argument implies that most of these writers indeed appreciated the Roman Empire as a state based on justice and thought that they could obey its laws without coming into conflict with their loyalty to Christ.

Responding to Celsus’ criticism, Origen admits that pagans are capable of having well-ordered states, but he thinks it impossible that ‘according to the laws which are in force in the worldly state, one could practise genuine devotion to God’.¹³ This line of argument means a kind of partition of specific, God-given competences between the State and the Church and a demand for their mutual recognition. In the concrete case of the Roman Empire, Origen is still more positive.¹⁴

One of the achievements the Romans were proud of was the peace they had imposed on the Mediterranean world, the Pax Romana. Origen and others welcomed the Pax Romana as convenient for the spread of the Gospel. They saw the foundation of one commonwealth of peoples by Augustus as an act of divine providence, since under this reign Christ was born. His coming into the world brought justice and peace of a higher level. God prepared the nations to receive this grace by first reconciling them under Roman rule. If he had not done so, they would have remained alien and hostile to one another. And ‘how could the doctrine of peace, which does not even permit to repay your enemy, have penetrated, if at Jesus’ coming the political relations had not been set at rest everywhere?’¹⁵ Thus, the Roman order was appreciated as a favourable frame for the spread of Christianity, and the universal peace as referring to the still better realm of Christ. Tertullian and Origen knew well that Christianity was not stopping at the Roman borders.¹⁶ Yet both concentrated on the implications of being Christians within the Roman Empire.

In the same line of thought, Tertullian had interpreted the Roman Empire as the ‘restraining force’ alluded to in Paul’s Second Letter to the Thessalonians.¹⁷ Explaining why Christians say prayers for the Emperor and the safety of the Roman Empire, he suggests that, apart from the scriptural order to do so,¹⁸ there is another, more urgent reason for intercession: as long as the Empire stands in force, it is restraining the universal catastrophe of the End, ‘with all the horrible disasters which we don’t want to see’; so that ‘by praying for its delay, we contribute to the continuation of Rome’.¹⁹ Obedience to the established authorities (Rom. 13:1–7 and 1 Pet. 2:13–17) was the general guideline. But not without the distinction the second text makes between fear and honour.²⁰

The importance of this instruction was that it recognised the supreme position of the Emperor and, at the same time, drew a clear dividing line between him and God. Together with the other apostolic recommendation, to pray ‘for kings and all who are in high positions’,²¹ this meant a desacralisation of the emperorship. Whatever proleptic veneration of his posthumous divinisation was practised, what kind of miraculous blessings were expected from his ‘genius’ (superhuman spirit), or which relationship with a particular pagan god he claimed, for Christian consciences this was just arrogance and blasphemy. ‘Fear’ was due to the only God; the Emperor could only claim to receive ‘honour’, which was no more than a respectful acknowledgement of his unique office. They were fully prepared to invoke God’s favour for its prosperous fulfilment.

We hear Tertullian assure that ‘we invoke the eternal, true and living God for the good of the emperors’, suggesting that they themselves know to whom they owe their life and power. The emperors, he is willing to admit, hold the second rank immediately after God, because ‘they are over all men, like the living over the dead’. But any emperor is inferior to Heaven, inasmuch as it is the same God who first made him a human being and then appointed him emperor.²² Wholeheartedly we ‘always pray in favour of every emperor that he may enjoy a long life, a government without troubles, the security of his house, brave armies, a faithful senate, an honest people, world peace – in short, for everything that a human and emperor wishes.’ These things have to be implored from the only One who grants them; rites and sacrifices never can assure them!²³ Origen compares the Christians with an army, fighting for the Emperor ‘by the supplications we address to the divinity’. By the way, he makes the reservation that this intercession only concerns ‘those who fight a just fight, and him who governs righteously, so that victory may be won over all those forces, which oppose those who act righteously’.²⁴

We may call this an attitude of critical solidarity with the Roman State and its supreme chief. The office of the emperor is considered as God-given; critical alertness concentrates on his divine claims and on the ‘just’ character of his government and wars.²⁵ The increasing emperor cult of the third century, particularly practised in the army, was the cause of many conflicts between Christians and the State. Among all religious people, the Christians were the only to be aware of the fact that their faith meant a choice. The others could combine the devotion of their preference with the cults the State required; the Christians could not because of the strict monotheism that was a central element in their religion.

To summarise: leading figures of third-century Christianity actually interpreted the given context of the Roman Empire, trying to find a positive relationship between its institutions and God’s plans in history. They focused mainly on three realities of the Empire:

1. legislation and administration of justice;
2. the peaceful commonwealth of nations, though the dangerous ‘barbarians’ had not yet been pacified;
3. the monarchical system of rule, which went together with the attribution of divine qualities to the Emperor and with his cult.

Facing this context, Christians propagated the following active responses:

1. they presented their members as inoffensive, loyal citizens, who were even giving a good moral example to others;
2. they welcomed the order of the Empire as a positive framework for the spread of the Gospel, under the reserve that the authorities would not obstruct that spread;
3. they respected the Emperor because of his God-given office, but refused to accept his divinisation.

Ethical standards and group...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• List of Abbreviations
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• 1. Earlier Contextualisation
• 2. Crisis and Recognition
• 3. The Church Fathers Assess the Change
• 4. Defining Christ’s Relation to God
• 5. Christianity Matures
• 6. External and Internal Repercussions
• Epilogue
• Notes
• Selected Bibliography