READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |
CAH.VOL.XIITHE IMPERIAL CRISIS AND RECOVERY. A.D. 193-324CHAPTER XVTHE CHRISTIAN CHURCH IN THE WESTI.
THE CHRISTIAN PERSECUTIONS
THE attitude of the Christian community to this world
and to its political organization in the Roman Empire was already unambiguously
defined in the Apostolic Age, and it remained unaltered in the period which
immediately succeeded. Even when the Second Coming of the Lord no longer
possessed the overwhelming imminence of the first age and the community had
become accustomed to the thought that they must still long await the dawn of
that epoch of glory and blessedness, the consciousness that they were
strangers and pilgrims upon earth remained thoroughly alive. It is true that
they prepared themselves for a continuing sojourn amidst the conditions of the
present age, that they freely acknowledged the benefits of the civil order and
in accordance with Paul’s exhortation rendered it the obedience that was due,
while in their common worship they called upon God to grant his protection to
Emperor and Empire; but they were conscious that they themselves already
possessed full citizenship in the kingdom of the heavenly Christ, which at its
full manifestation at the last day would put an end to the dominion of the
Romans and establish upon a rejuvenated earth a new life in accordance with
divine laws. The Imperium Romanum wore for the
Christians the aspect of something temporary, to which they adapted themselves
in the confident expectation of a better dispensation to come.
But in the practice of daily life this inward
aloofness found little visible expression. In his spirited Apology Tertullian protests to his pagan readers that the Christians avail themselves
of the good things of this world exactly like their opponents, that in common
with them they make use of the legal and commercial system and of all the
institutions of public life, and that they engage in the ordinary callings of
men just as they do. And over and above this he boasts that they are honest
taxpayers, who for their Christian conscience’ sake disdain the usual deceits
and evasions for defrauding the revenue. As the only point of difference, he
names their refusal to join in the worship of the pagan gods. Yet there was
something further. Not all professions were permissible for the Christian. Not
only were the trades of immorality or such activities as were connected with
pagan worship forbidden to him, but also participation in public offices and
military service, which meant that a considerable part of civic activity was
denied to the Christian. In such things their inward indifference to the life
of the State became outwardly perceptible too.
In personal intercourse the Christians’ attitude
to this world and all its might and splendour naturally showed itself in a thousand ways and soon gave rise throughout the
world to fundamental mistrust and to illusions, born of hatred, which by
degrees gained ever sharper definition. Not only were some of those tales of
atrocities related of the Jews transferred to the Christians, but newly
invented abominations were added to them. It was known that the Christian
gatherings for worship culminated in a common meal which was called Agape,
i.e. ‘Love-feast,’ and that no uninitiated person was admitted. And since
it was also known that amongst themselves the Christians called each other
brother and sister, it was easy for prurient imaginations to fabricate stories
of secret nocturnal orgies, which in the loathsome darkness gave free rein to
incestuous lusts and converted the horrible crime of Oedipus into an act of
worship. It was also learned that at this sacred meal the flesh of the Son of
Man was eaten and his blood drunk. From this arose, as may be readily
conceived, the contention that the Christians slaughtered and devoured
children. But even where such tales were not credited, the conviction of the
hostility of Christianity to the State, indeed of its fundamental hatred of
mankind and of its coarse superstition opposed to all culture, was firmly
rooted. About the year 180 the Platonic philosopher Celsus gives well-considered and pointed expression to the repugnance felt by the
educated classes of his time to Christianity.
These anti-Christian sentiments were the driving
force behind all the Christian persecutions before the year 250: they exercised
a decisive influence upon the attitude of the authorities and in consequence
upon their estimate of the legal position. In general, the principle laid down
by Trajan in his rescript to Pliny, that the Christians were not to be sought
out, held good for the whole empire. But if valid accusations came before the
authorities, the Christian had then to offer sacrifice or die. This seems
strange, but it shows us clearly that the question of the toleration of
Christianity was dealt with, not from a juridical, but from a political, point
of view. The Christians’ hostile attitude to the State was regarded as
judicially well-established. But this attitude as such was not punished, and
the authorities gave every Christian who was denounced the opportunity of
giving evidence to the contrary by offering sacrifice before the statue of the
emperor. Only when he would not obey the order to sacrifice, and thereby violated
the reverence due to the majesty of the Empire and its tutelary gods, was he
condemned to death.
Since, then, the State did not seek out the
Christians, the Christians remained tolerated, and they made the fullest use of
this situation: their uncommonly successful expansion, whether we reckon it in
time or by its extent, affords clear evidence of this. Official action was only
taken against the Christians when special provocation so roused popular feeling
that it resulted in definable charges against definite persons: granted that
those who made accusations were sometimes raving mobs who with howls of
execration at last dragged the mishandled victim of their frenzy before the
tribunal. The Christians vainly asked again and again that their legal position
should be made clear, demanding proof of the atrocities or other crimes
attributed to them by the populace. The authorities, as far as we can see, took
no steps in the matter, and they likewise studiously avoided all discussion of
religious questions. They were not conducting religious prosecutions, but using
their powers to secure tranquillity, and punishing
the provocative disloyalty of those who refused to offer sacrifice. Whoever
offered sacrifice returned home unmolested, and the officials did not concern
themselves with his Christian beliefs or his previous activities.
We hear repeatedly that
special Imperial edicts had prohibited the profession of Christianity. But we
never hear that these edicts had made it the duty of the officials to stage
Christian persecutions. These edicts then were only repetitions of Trajan’s
directions. And the manner in which they were carried out was left as before to
the political judgment of the provincial authorities. About the year 215 the
famous jurist Ulpian prepared a collection of such anti-Christian edicts, not
of course with an antiquarian or historical interest, but in order to clarify
criminal procedure by systematization of the law. As may be readily
understood, this collection has perished without leaving a trace. But we have
preserved in Eusebius two Imperial edicts which deal with the Christian
question in a manner that departs so widely from the uniform attitude of the
State as everywhere else attested that it does not seem possible to accept
these documents as genuine.
The accounts of Christian persecutions came to
take two literary forms in this early period. The first is that of the letter. In
this form we have the Martyrdom of Poly carp of Smyrna (156) and the account of
the martyrs of Lyons (177). The other form is that of the minutes (Acts) of the
trial: and this later became the rule. But it would be false to assume that in
Acts of this kind we possess shorthand reports, or even official records of the
Roman authorities. They are literary productions no less than the accounts composed
as letters. If they wear the garb of official minutes, this is merely an
attempt to give them a form that will bring home the credibility of the account
to the minds of their readers and hearers. The Alexandrian anti-Semites, too, honoured the memory of their champions, who were executed
under Claudius, in the form of such minutes.
The first instances of this type date from the
time of Marcus Aurelius (161—80). In Pergamum two Christians named Carpus and Papylus, the latter a councillor from Thyatira, were in vain put to the torture by the Proconsul who was staying
in the city. They steadfastly refused to offer sacrifice and were finally
burned alive. Then a woman named Agathonice ran
forward out of the crowd and, overcome with longing for the glory of heaven,
threw herself into the flames with the martyrs. In Rome at about the same date
the Christian philosopher and apologist Justin was beheaded with six of his
disciples. The most impressive document remains, however, the Latin Acts of the
execution of the martyrs of Scilli in Africa: the
unaffected directness of these simple people, and the conciseness of the
narrative which accords so wonderfully with it, still produce the same effect
on us today as once on the church of Africa. The minutes begin in correct
style with the date, 1 August 180, the scene is laid in Carthage in the council
chamber of the Proconsul Saturninus. And then in
question and answer the melancholy drama is unfolded before us: confession of
Christianity, refusal to sacrifice, rejection of time for reflection,
sentence—and ‘all said, “Thanks be to God!” and were immediately beheaded for
the name of Christ.
The counterpart to this is supplied by the letter
which the communities at Vienne and Lyons wrote to their sister communities in
Asia Minor to acquaint them with what had befallen them. In it we are given a
full description, deeply moving in its terrible plainness, of a persecution
which overtook the two communities in A.D. 177. What incident actually
occasioned it we do not learn. But suddenly throngs of people rush through the
streets, break into the houses, and drag the Christians together into the
market-place with every kind of maltreatment, until the governor appears and so
restores order to the proceedings. In these two cities there is a regular
hunting-out of the Christians: they are thrown in crowds into the prisons,
interrogated, tortured, and whoever denies Christ is set free. But the
suspicion of the rabble remains alert, and so even these apostates are
re-arrested and now regain their hold upon the faith and courage shown by their
companions. They now confess steadfastly and suffer the same fate. Every
torment that bloodthirsty imagination can devise is enacted in the darkness of
the prison-cell or amid the hatred and publicity of the arena. Their mangled
limbs are roasted to cinders on red-hot chairs, the brave slave-girl Blandina meets her end at the stake, the ninety-year-old
bishop Pothinus, brutally mishandled, dies in prison,
and round him rows of unfortunates gasp out their lives stretched in the
stocks. But the communities of the two Gallic cities do not break down under this
persecution. From the steadfastly endured sufferings of the martyrs they had
won the assurance of heavenly succour and come to
know how in the most fearful pains of death a heavenly radiance enlightens the
eyes that have been granted the vision of the glory of God beyond the reach of
human sight. When earthly torments threaten to overwhelm the body, then God’s
mercy lifts its witnesses above all such pains and makes them equal to the
angels. He who has come victorious through this conflict is already here on
earth transported into the world to come, bearing witness by his deeds, words,
and looks to the truth of the living Christ.
What the communities of Gaul wrote to their fellow-Christians in Asia
Minor was the universal experience of Christendom wherever martyrs won the
crown of victory. And so every one of these testimonies in blood became a seed
from which there sprang in a thousand hearts new fruit for Christianity. Thus
in the martyr! the old enthusiasm of primitive Christianity revived, and the reverence
which the community already paid to their bravery and contempt of death from
purely human motives was united with the recognition of the holy Spirit who
revealed himself in the martyrs. Thus too these men and
women became authorities empowered to give a decisive ruling on important
questions of the community. This became especially evident in the days of the
Decian persecution, and in many places led to conflicts with the episcopate,
which felt its authority impaired by the claims of the martyrs. A living
picture of the enthusiastic temper of the martyrs is given us by a document
from North Africa, which in its own way is unique, the Passion of Perpetua and
her companions. In it the imprisoned Christians have themselves recorded their
experiences, and the principal heroine, Vibia Perpetua, and one of her companions named Saturus give a full account of the visions vouchsafed to them, and in so doing they
disclose quite naively their consciousness that a martyr has the right to
demand such revelations from God, and that his intercession can procure the
deliverance of departed souls in the world to come and his exhortation
reconcile contending clerics upon earth. The appended description of their last
agonies not only depicts the horrors that were devised for the entertainment of
the multitude who filled the arena, but also enables us to trace the feelings
of the victims and the ecstatic insensibility which raised them above the
physical torments of these terrible scenes. This Passion was enacted in the
reign of Septimius Severus in the year 203.
We hear at about the same time of a Christian
persecution in Egypt, which drove the teaching of Christianity out of
Alexandria and exacted as its victim amongst others Origen’s father. No
authentic Acts of the martyrs survive for the immediately succeeding period.
That the emperors of the Syrian dynasty, with their leanings towards
syncretism, took no great pleasure in themselves initiating Christian
persecutions is intelligible enough, as it is also that the reaction under Maximinus Thrax carried off,
along with many high officials of this period, a number of leading churchmen.
And now too, when districts of Asia Minor were suffering from severe
earthquakes, popular fury against the Christians blazed up fiercely once more:
the Christians were held responsible for these terrible manifestations of the
undisguised wrath of the gods, and in these years threatening clouds were
indeed gathering over the Roman Empire. The Persians were pressing forward in
Syria, and on the lower Danube the Goths broke across the frontier and
threatened with dissolution an Empire already weakened by economic depression
and ever recurrent disputes for the throne.
The year 249 again witnessed a persecution of the
Christians by the excited mob in Alexandria, and then there began under the
Emperor Decius the first systematic Christian persecution, organized for the
whole Empire by Imperial command. The new Imperator was confronted with a task
of unprecedented difficulty and wished to unite all the forces of the Empire
for its achievement. He also called to his aid the hearts of his subjects by
appointing a general sacrifice of homage and intercession before the images of
the tutelary gods of the Empire. In all cities, villages, and hamlets sacrificial
commissions were set up, which were to supervise its execution and to deliver
to everyone who took part a written certificate of having performed the act of
sacrifice. Thus would be achieved both the propitiation of the angry gods and
the eradication of the hated Christians: for those Christians who obeyed the
Imperial command thereby dissociated themselves from the Church as apostates
from their faith, while those who steadfastly resisted were removed by death.
All the witnesses we have concur in their
evidence that these measures for the first time seriously imperilled the existence of the communities. The Christians, when summoned to appear,
yielded in great numbers to coercion and offered sacrifice. And the cunning
persons who by bribery purchased evidence of their loyalty without really
offering sacrifice were judged only a little more leniently by the Church, and
in the end they too were reckoned among the lapsed. The number of
martyrs was large and at their head stand bishops Fabian of Rome, Babylas of Antioch, and Alexander of Jerusalem. But taken
as a whole there were relatively few who remained constant by comparison with
the many apostates. However, trustworthy Acts of the martyrs for the Decian
persecution have hardly been preserved, and though it might seem as though
Decius had attained his object, the facts that have been handed down are to us
a proof to the contrary. The Church had been able to endure the occasional
defection of individuals in the sporadic persecutions of the earlier period and
to punish apostasy with irrevocable exclusion. The wholesale defection of the
Decian persecution could no longer be met with the full rigour of the tradition that had existed hitherto. Even before the persecution ceased,
the possibility was under consideration in the most widely separated Church
provinces of admitting the lapsed to the penance of the Church and thereby
opening the way for their restoration to the Christian fellowship.
The first to be inclined to such leniency were
the circles of enthusiastic martyrs who, with their inherent authority from the
holy Spirit, granted pardon to their weaker brethren and urged upon the
bishops, or even dictated to them, their admission to the fellowship of the
Eucharist; and in many places their injunction found a ready acceptance. But
even where such unrestrained readiness to pardon met with resistance from
episcopal authority, it was not contested that in principle the restoration of
the lapsed was possible, the only requirement being a properly regulated
procedure for attaining this end. In one way or another the fruits of victory
were snatched from the hands of the pagan State. The masses of the lapsed
returned to the Church, and the steadfast confessions of the many martyrs served
only to strengthen among Christians as a whole their sense of the invincibility
of Christianity. The State itself shrank from pressing its policy to a logical
conclusion against all who opposed it: it was simply not possible to
exterminate the Christians by bloodshed, and thus by the spring of 251 the fury
of the persecution abated, and in the summer it came to an end with the death
of the Emperor, who lost his life on the Gothic front.
This, the most severe and widespread onslaught
upon Christianity, was followed in the course of the next few years by a few
slighter clashes, and in the summer of 257 the Emperor Valerian determined on a
new assault upon the Church so displeasing to the gods. Again the blow was
directed in the first instance against the leaders of the community: this time
bishop Xystus of Rome suffered together with his deacons, at whose head stood
Laurence, glorified by legend; and almost at the same time fell the head of
Cyprian, bishop of Carthage (258). But two years later Valerian was taken
prisoner by the Persians, in whose hands, to the dishonour of the Roman Empire, he died. His son and successor Gallienus had good grounds
for putting an end to the Christian persecution. Indeed he even issued an edict
of toleration, in which the Christians were granted the use of their places of
worship and their cemeteries, and a general ordinance was issued that they were
not to be further molested. So ended the State action that
began with Decius. The martyrs of this period of persecution won for the Church
what hitherto she had never possessed, the recognition of her right to exist.
II.
THE INNER LIFE OF THE CHURCH
The earliest description of the Christian Sunday
service comes from the pen of the apologist Justin (c. 150) and may be
regarded as evidence for the custom of the Roman church. The congregation
assembles and listens first to a reading from the Gospels or the writings of
the prophets, to which a fixed time is allotted. There follows a sermon of
exhortation by the officiant. And then begins the second act of the service, to
which only the baptized are admitted, whereas in the first part, not only the
whole body of the catechumens may take part, but probably also non-Christians
who are believed to have a serious interest in Christianity and perhaps also to
be inclined to join the community. This second part, which consists in the
observance of the Eucharist, begins with a common prayer of the congregation
for the salvation of Christendom and its moral perfecting, that it may attain
to eternal salvation. Then the members of the congregation salute each other
with the kiss of brotherhood as the symbol of that common brotherhood in which
all Christians are bound together. There follows the ‘Offertory,’ i.e. members of the congregation bring to the officiant bread, wine, and water, and
he then recites over these gifts placed upon the table a prayer of
thanksgiving, the Eucharistia, and at
its conclusion the congregation responds with ‘Amen.’ This prayer contains also
the invocation of the divine Logos, in which the officiant prays for his
descent upon the bread and wine that to the Christians they may become the
saving food of the body and blood of Jesus. After this supreme act of the rite
the deacons distribute the consecrated gifts to those who are present and
later they take them also to those who are absent, to the sick, and to those in
prison. The conclusion of the service, however, consists in the collection of
voluntary offerings, which are deposited with the officiant and enable him to succour the sick, the widows and orphans, those in prison,
the needy, or strangers sojourning with the community.
We see therefore already contained in the Roman
observance of the Eucharist at about the middle of the second century all the
essential elements of the Sunday liturgy that still determine its course to the
present day. At the same time, however, it is clear that here already a decided
change has taken place as compared with the earliest times. The rite described
by Justin corresponds to the type of morning service still familiar at the
present day. In the earliest period the Eucharist belongs to the late afternoon
hours and is the climax of a common meal of ritual character in which the
community, or in many cases perhaps only sections of the community
(house-communities), are united in a celebration in which religious sociability
is combined with the sacramental partaking of the body and blood of the Lord.
By about the middle of the second century, the sacramental meal has developed
into an independent rite and has been transferred to Sunday morning and joined
with the service of reading and preaching.
The common fellowship meal of the community
continued to exist alongside it and was still a regular practice about the year
200; but it then died out slowly in the course of the third century, and
survived only in its formal rudiments. Tertullian tells us the form such a
celebration took in Carthage at the end of the second century. Rich
and poor join together in this Love-feast. First a prayer is said standing,
then all recline and the meal begins; but the food and drink are partaken of in
moderation and conversation is kept within proper bounds; for they know that
the Lord is with them at table. When the meal is ended, and at sunset the
lights are lit, there are readings from holy scripture, or they listen to
recitation or song by members of the brethren. A final prayer concludes the
gathering. Just the same form is taken by a celebration of the kind at about
the same period in Rome, and the description there given of it adds a few new
details to the picture. Here the rule is that a well-to-do host invites those
who take part, and the celebration is held in his house. And it is strictly
prescribed that a cleric must preside at the celebration and must break the
hallowed bread, which, though strictly distinguished from the bread of the
Eucharist, is distributed as consecrated food amongst those taking part. But
here already the transformation of the Agape into a simple act of
charity is discussed, and mention is made of the possibility of handing the
guests provisions to take away with them, instead of sitting down with them to
a common meal.
The source from which we derive this information
is the Church Order composed by Hippolytus, the rival bishop of Rome,
which preserves for us also the oldest liturgical form for the Sunday
celebration of the Eucharist, apart from the Didache, which belongs to a
quite different type. After the kiss of peace, the deacons place the offering
in the form of bread and wine and water upon the altar-table, the bishop lays
his hands upon it, and the Eucharistia begins
with the following dialogue:
Bishop: The Lord be
with you.
Congregation: And with thy
spirit.
Bishop: Hearts up!
Congregation: We have them to the Lord.
Bishop: Let us give
thanks to the Lord.
Congregation: It is meet
and right.
Bishop: We thank Thee,
God, through Thy beloved Servant Jesus Christ whom in the last times Thou hast
sent us as Saviour and Redeemer and Messenger of Thy
counsel, the Logos who comes from Thee, through whom Thou hast made all things,
whom Thou wast pleased to send from heaven into the
womb of the virgin, and in her body he became flesh and was shown forth as Thy
Son, born of the holy Spirit and the virgin. To fulfil Thy will and to prepare
Thee a holy people, he stretched out his hands, when he suffered, that he might
release from suffering those who have believed on Thee.
And when he delivered himself to a voluntary
passion, to loose death and to break asunder the bands of the devil, and to
trample hell and to enlighten the righteous and to set up the boundary stone
and to manifest the resurrection, he took a loaf, gave thanks, and spake, ‘Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you.’
Likewise also the cup and said, ‘This is my blood which is poured out for you.
As often as you do this, you make my commemoration.’
Remembering therefore his death and resurrection,
we offer to Thee the loaf and the cup and give thanks to Thee that Thou hast
counted us worthy to stand before Thee and to do Thee priestly service.
And we beseech Thee, that Thou send down Thy holy
Spirit upon this offering of the church. Unite it and grant to all the saints
who partake of it to their fulfilling with holy Spirit, to their strengthening
of faith in truth, that we may praise and glorify Thee through Thy Servant
Jesus Christ, through whom to Thee be glory and honour in Thy holy church now and ever. Amen.
This prayer can be regarded as the pattern, and
in a certain sense even as the foundation, of all Eucharistic prayers that have
come down to us; and even in the modern liturgical forms of most of the
Christian confessions its formulas or ideas can be clearly recognized, even
though in varying degrees. The actual Eucharistic, i.e. the
thanksgiving of the person praying, relates to the benefits which God has
bestowed upon mankind through the sending of His Son and through His passion.
The mention of the suffering introduces the ‘night in which the Lord was
betrayed,’ and leads on to the recitation of the words of institution, upon
which, in expansion of the Pauline conclusion, follows the
so-called Anamnesis, which gives expression to the consciousness of the
congregation that they are celebrating the commemoration of the death and
resurrection. And then there follows a formula praying for the descent of the
holy Spirit upon the elements which seems to be the root of the later so-called Epiclesis.
These elements, bread and wine, are here
described as the offering of the congregation, and the officiant thanks God
that he is exercising the function of a priest. We here find it clearly expressed—and
this was already indicated by earlier evidence—that the Christian church
celebrates the Eucharist as a ritual sacrifice, and accordingly ascribes to the
officiant the office of a priest. The celebration is here regarded as a
sacrifice, because the congregation lays the elements of bread and wine as its
gifts upon the altar. These, however, by the descent of the holy Spirit are
filled with a wonderful divine power, and the congregation which partakes of
this heavenly food presents a parallel with the members of cult-fellowships
who partake of the divinely-imbued sacrificial meal: this idea too is already
anticipated in Paul. Alongside both these ideas of sacrifice
goes also a third, and this is the earliest in the sphere of Christian thought.
According to this idea, prayer is the only sacrifice worthy to be offered to
God, and accordingly the sacrificial character of the Eucharist has its basis
in the prayer of thanksgiving, i.e. the ‘Eucharistia.'
About the middle of the third century in Cyprian
an entirely new conception of sacrifice can be observed, which then developed
rapidly and proved decisive for the Catholic interpretation of the Mass.
According to this conception, the act of the priest is an imitation of the
sacrifice of Christ, whose body and blood are again offered as once upon
Golgotha. Here we have quite plainly before our eyes an idea of primitive
religion transferred to a Christian cult. The solemn rehearsal or the dramatic
re-enactment of some event from the history of the gods releases the same
divine forces and produces the same effects as were once displayed at the time
of the original occurrence. This view underlies many actions of the mystery
religions, and it is found at the most varied levels of ritual practice down to
ordinary healing-magic. It was under the influence of this idea that the
community attempted to reach an understanding of the miraculous character of
the Eucharist.
Ideas derived from primitive religion soon
surrounded also the rite of baptism with ceremonial additions. The water is
cleansed by solemn exorcism from the elemental spirits that dwell in it; but
the candidate too has had driven out of him the evil spirit which dwells in him
in that he is a pagan. As early as the beginning of the third century we find
the custom by which the candidate in a solemn formula renounces Satan and all
his service and all his works, and then gives his oath of allegiance (sacramentum) to his new lord Jesus by the recitation of the creed. After the baptism, which
cleanses the pagan from his sins, he is anointed and receives the holy Spirit
by the laying on of the bishop’s hands. In this way he is finally received into
the Christian fellowship and, immediately after his baptism, joins in the
Eucharist. In Egypt, Rome, and Carthage it was the custom to deliver to the
candidates at their first communion, in addition to bread and wine, a cup of
milk and honey, to give them a foretaste of the heavenly food of which the
blessed partake in the Kingdom of God. In this rite, too, borrowing from the
ancient mystery cults springs to the eye. Along with these two great acts of
the liturgical life, we find already at the beginning of the third century a
number of special rites in process of development: thus the ceremonial of
consecration for bishops, priests, and deacons, and many forms of blessing
fruits and flowers.
Moreover the ordering of daily prayer also begins
to make its appearance, and it prepares the way for the later hallowing of the
canonical hours. In other respects the formation of a Christian church year
still remains within very narrow limits. The most prominent division of time is
still, as in primitive Christianity, the week, in which Wednesday and Friday
are marked as days of fasting, while Sunday as the Lord’s day is devoted to the
service of the Eucharist. A survival of the Jewish Law appears in the
widespread observance of the annual Passover, which is naturally observed on 14
Nisan, the day commanded in the Old Testament, or in other words on the day of
the full moon of the spring month: consequently on the same day as that on
which the Jews keep the festival. Only the content of the celebration is
changed. Whilst the Jews keep the Passover as a festival of national rejoicing,
it is for the Christians the day of the commemoration of the passion and
crucifixion of Christ and is accordingly marked by fasting, till the first
cock-crow announces the end of the night of suffering and the community can
‘break the fast,’ i.e. join together in the Eucharistic meal.
By the side of this original form of the Passover
celebration, there arose as early as the second century another, which emphasized
opposition to Judaism more strongly: from being a commemoration of the death it
came to be a yearly celebration of the resurrection, in which as it were the
weekly celebrations of the resurrection on Sundays reached their culmination.
This was marked by the choice of the day. Instead of the night of the full moon
of the Jewish Passover, the night preceding the following Sunday was chosen,
and this Sunday with its celebration of the Eucharist was made into the
Christian festival of rejoicing, preceded by the night of Christ’s rest in the
grave, which was kept with fasting and prayer. The custom also soon grew up of
baptizing the catechumens of the year on this night of Easter Eve. The reason
for this was that those seeking baptism were every year formed into a group and
together instructed in the fundamental doctrines of Christianity.
In connection with this practice a tradition of
instruction was developed, which took many varying forms in the different districts,
but increasingly came to adopt the threefold creed, expounding the individual
clauses in greater detail. In consequence, this confession became the rule of
faith and could be treated as a secured formulation of the content of Christian
truth; for in the minds of the community the interpretation given of its
clauses in the instruction of
catechumens was inseparably bound up with its wording. In the conflict with gnosticism, this instruction in the Christian doctrine of
the Church, thus linked with the baptismal confession, was of the greatest
service.
The festival of Easter introduced a period of
fifty days, which was observed as a time of Christian rejoicing, and concluded
with the feast of Pentecost. Pentecost too was originally no other than the Old
Testament day taken over from Judaism, but it was observed
in the Church as the festival of the outpouring of the holy Spirit upon the
Apostles. Beyond these two days, Easter and Pentecost, the Church
year was not developed during the third century. The festival of Epiphany on
January 6, which makes its appearance amongst the gnostic followers of
Basilides in Egypt, remained for the time being unknown to the Church.
On the other hand, in the middle of the second
century the custom was already growing up in the individual communities of
celebrating the anniversaries of the deaths of their own outstanding martyrs.
In the third century this custom spread more widely and became established: the
Decian persecution supplied abundant material for the development of these
community celebrations, and thus arose within the churches the first beginnings
of calendars of saints. Towards the end of the second century we can begin to
trace also the Christians’ peculiar style of burial, which, apparently under
the influence of Jewish models, developed uniformly in different places, namely
the burial of the dead in so-called catacombs. These are underground
cemeteries such as were frequently employed in the East and were not entirely
unknown even in the West. But the Christians clearly extended them
systematically under pressure of their distressed condition in relation to the
State and developed them into immense constructions which in the persecutions
of the third century could be used as refuges for the persecuted communities or
as secret places for common worship. They always take the form of long
horizontal galleries driven into the earth, sometimes in several storeys one above the other, and their walls are provided
with rectangular recesses, in which the bodies were laid without coffins and
wrapped only in cloths. A slab fixed with mortar shuts off the grave from the
corridor. Well-to-do families possessed rectangular burial chambers branching
off from these corridors, and where the catacombs were constructed in
particularly firm soil, or were bored into the rock, we find also larger
chambers and hall-like structures, in which more spacious graves occur, with
semicircular vaulting (Arcosolia), or canopied
graves. In these chambers consecrated to the dead we meet also with the first
certain traces of a peculiar Christian art, and the rich abundance of the
catacomb pictures, found in various districts of the Roman Empire and extending
over more than three centuries, affords information on the earliest motifs and
their manifold developments in early Christian art. But we must always remember
that owing to this limited nature of the material we know only one phase,
though certainly an essential one, of the development of art, and that we have
also to reckon with the growth of the Christian artistic impulse in the realm
of the living. This is brought vividly before our eyes in the period after
Constantine by the surviving monuments.
III.
THE ROMAN CHURCH
The Roman church became conscious at an early
date that, as the community of the capital of the world, she occupied a special
position in Christendom and must fashion herself accordingly. The First Epistle
of Clement (c. 95), written in the name of the community, already
expresses a lively sense of obligation to come to the aid of a sister
community, threatened by internal dissension, with good advice and furthermore
with authoritative direction. Naturally the authoritative character of its
instruction is not made to rest upon appeal to the importance of the writer of
the letter, but is given an objective basis in the word of the Bible and supported
by emphasis upon the apostolic appointment of all leaders of the community (episkopoi) and their successors. But the Roman
community’s sense of its own importance is nevertheless unmistakable and it
finds expression in the whole tenor of the letter. Rome imparts profitable
instruction to the Corinthian community and regards this as her right and her
duty: but one gets the impression that the Romans would have been greatly
surprised had Corinth, let us say, in similar circumstances dispatched such a
letter of admonition to Rome.
Of the evolution of church order in Rome we have
no precise information. Towards the middle of the second century a certain Hermas writes a book which bears the title The Shepherd and consists of a highly elaborated series of visionary scenes, interwoven
with lengthy exhortations to repentance. In it also appear incidentally the
leaders of the community, the episkopoi and diakonoiy or presbyters, without any sharp
differentiation between the titles being recognizable. It is clear only that Hermas still knows nothing of a monarchical episcopate in
Rome, but is thoroughly familiar with disputes about rank and honour within this circle. But the question must have been
cleared up soon afterwards; for in the second half of the century, indeed soon
after the year 150, we find single persons like Anicetus and Soter coming forward as responsible leaders of the
community. We have indeed preserved in Irenaeus a list of the Roman bishops
from Linus, whom the apostles appointed, to Eleutherus.
And as Irenaeus still knew the successor of Eleutherus,
bishop Victor, this list may be appealed to as the ancient and official
tradition of the Roman church.
We have also, from fourth-century sources,
lists of Roman bishops which agree with this ancient list, continue it, and
even supply precise dates of the accession to office and day of death of the
individual popes. That for the early period these precise dates are invented
will not be seriously doubted. Many, however, are still today inclined to
accept the years given, at least those for the second century, as trustworthy
tradition. Unfortunately a critical examination of the material does not
confirm this belief. The Roman list of popes was first supplied with
trustworthy chronological details under Fabian about the year 240, and the
period of the rule of Pontian from 22 August 230 to 28 September 235 is the
first tolerably assured date of the Roman papal chronology. All earlier dates
assigned are guesses of later chronographers and can make no claim to rest upon
ancient tradition. On the other hand, we have no reason for disputing the
trustworthiness of the list of names itself, and we may see in the persons
named the prominent men of the Roman college of presbyters from the days of the
apostles to the end of the second century, though it is only after Anicetus
that we can speak of monarchical government by one bishop.
We cannot doubt that this strengthening of the authority
of the leader of the community was the outcome of the conflicts which that
period brought to the Roman community. About the middle of the century both Marcion and his followers and the Alexandrian gnostics, especially Valentinus, endeavoured to gain a footing in Rome and to win over the Roman community: but both
assaults were repulsed with full and lasting effect.
From the same period we have the account of a
visit which Polycarp, the aged bishop of Smyrna, paid to Rome. This was the
occasion of a discussion of the fact that Rome kept no celebration of the
Passover, and Polycarp did not succeed in persuading the Romans to adopt the
custom of Asia Minor in keeping the Passover in association with the death of
Christ. But this in no way disturbed the peaceful relations of the Church with
Asia Minor, and Rome offered no objection when Christians of Asia Minor who
were settled in Rome celebrated the night of the Passover in their accustomed
way. But towards the end of the century the rapidly prevailing custom of
celebrating the resurrection on Easter Sunday had been adopted in Rome, and now
the difference between the two rites seemed to Victor the bishop intolerable.
It was probably the existence of both customs
side by side in the city of Rome itself that finally determined him to turn
against the church of Asia Minor as a whole, in order to strike at the root of
the evil. He assured himself of the assent of most of the churches of the East,
and of the church of Gaul, to the practice adopted in Rome of celebrating
Easter on a Sunday, and then demanded of the church of Asia Minor that they
should discontinue their quartodeciman use, i.e. the commemoration of the death of Christ on the day of the Jewish Passover.
When the spokesman of the Asiatics,
bishop Polycrates of Ephesus, replied that their custom was in accordance with
apostolic tradition, and found corroboration in, pointing to the graves of the
apostles in Asia Minor, Victor still persisted in his demand and threatened
exclusion from the fellowship of the Church. But it then became clear that he
no longer had the other districts of the Church upon his side. These were not
willing to make the difference over Easter the occasion of a conflict that
would break up the unity of the Church; and Irenaeus protested to his Roman
colleague in strong terms against the overbearingness of his demand. Thus the
Roman claim to extend its authority over the East as well was rejected; but the
defeat had only a momentary significance. Nevertheless in this matter Rome had
in fact been the representative of the general opinion of the Church and had
intervened as such. Out of this situation sprang new possibilities for the
future.
In what high esteem the Roman church was held in
the West towards the close of the second century we see from the principal work
of Irenaeus himself, who quotes the list of Roman bishops as exemplifying a
line of tradition reaching back to the apostles, and from this draws the
conclusion that undoubtedly the pure doctrine is to be found in Rome, with
which in consequence all other communities that rest upon apostolic tradition
must necessarily agree. Rome was the principal centre of the West in the sense also that it was the scene of the theological
conflicts that were brought to the West from the East, always more actively
stirred by speculation. Not only the teaching of Marcion and the gnostics, but also various views on the
nature of the divinity of Christ taught by representatives of Asia Minor, were
put forward in Rome and for a time gained a not inconsiderable influence.
Those that made most impression were the
so-called Monarchians, who would hear nothing of the learned speculations about
Christ as the Logos. They refused to see in Christ, after the fashion of the
theology of the Apologists, the incarnation of a second divine being begotten
of the Father, the Logos, and accepted the statement that God was made man in
its full and literal sense. There is only one God and no other divine being
beside him, and this one God appeared on earth in human form as Jesus Christ,
and died for us on the cross, and now works as holy Spirit in the Christian
Church. That was the popular theology, in the East no less than in
the West, and in a certain sense it has remained so to the present day.
In Rome the bishops of the period about a.d. 200 were
not disinclined to accept this interpretation. But in opposition to this the
representatives of a more learned theology defended the Logos theology,
sanctioned by the Gospel of St John, as the only possible doctrine; and the
Roman presbyter Hippolytus was an impassioned champion of this point of view.
He was opposed, not only by the Libyan theologian Sabellius,
who had come to Rome, but still more strongly by Callistus, who became bishop
on the death of Zephyrinus, whose supporter and practical administrator he had
been. The antagonism rent the Roman community into two parts, and Hippolytus
was elected bishop of the Roman circle that would have no association with the
heterodox. The theological differences became more acute when Callistus, in his
treatment of penitents who had been guilty of mortal sin, showed a leniency
which departed definitely from the full rigour of the
Primitive Church. Hippolytus and his party on their side regarded themselves
as the guardians of Christian austerity.
Thus in Rome there were two communities, each of
which regarded itself as, and called itself, the catholic church; and the
church of Hippolytus stood in opposition to that of Callistus and maintained
this attitude even when Callistus was succeeded by Urban and Urban by Pontian
in the episcopal see. But in the year 235 the Emperor Maximinus Thrax banished the heads of both communities,
Hippolytus and Pontian, to Sardinia, and there under pressure of the grave
situation a reconciliation seems to have taken place. Pontian laid down his
office to enable the Romans to elect a successor, and Hippolytus in all
probability did the same, but renounced his claim to a successor and
recommended his community to join their former opponents. In return, he was
recognized by the other side as possessing the ecclesiastical dignity of a
presbyter. Anteros was elected bishop of the now united Roman community. Both
his predecessors died in exile and their bodies were brought to Rome by Fabian
(236—50) and there buried with all the honours proper
to martyrs.
Of those who held office in the Roman community
Hippolytus was the last to use the Greek language, and at the same time the
last whose whole theological attitude was rooted in Greek ways of thought. He also
had connections with Alexandria and drew inspiration from the work of the
chronographer Julius Africanus. With him he had in common a special interest in
learned calculations of the duration of the world’s history and of the date of
the Day of Judgment and in employing these to close the door against over-hasty
apocalyptic expectations. This motive, which in him was combined with a
personal predilection for chronological calculations, produced his Chronicle; of this only fragments survive in the original Greek, but in Latin
translations and adaptations it exercised a perceptible influence upon
historical writing in the West. From this same favourite pursuit of Hippolytus issued his Paschal Tables, in which the first
serious attempt was made to calculate the Easter full moon from astronomical
data and so to become independent of the dates fixed by the Jewish Synagogue.
But just as in both these works the intention
deserves more praise than the performance, so too in his exegetical works
Hippolytus shows no evidence of a creative intelligence. For us the most
valuable of his surviving works in the theological field is his Refutation
of the Heresies, because it is based upon first-class material and provides
us with one of the most important sources for the history of Gnosticism. To
this must be added the Church Order, preserved in numerous translations,
in which Hippolytus, as a defence against heretics
and incompetent bishops—Callistus is of course intended—draws a detailed
picture of church order according to apostolic tradition: for us, of course,
this means a description of the liturgical customs and ideas and usages of
church life in the community of Hippolytus in Rome about the year 200. In later
days the Roman church forgot Hippolytus together with his writings and his Church
Order. On the other hand, his writings were read assiduously in the
Egyptian church, and his Church Order even came to be accepted as
typical, so much so that the translations of it into Coptic, Ethiopic, and even
Arabic, influenced decisively the life and order of the Eastern churches
concerned. The consequence was that in the third century Egypt looked upon her
traditional connection with Rome as vouched for, not through Callistus, but
through Hippolytus.
Under the pontificate of Fabian, the Roman see’s
growing sense of its own importance begins to find expression in ways that we
can clearly trace. In the so-called Catacomb of Callistus an artistically
equipped burial chamber was constructed for the Roman bishops. It was rediscovered
in the nineteenth century and contains the graves, identified by Greek
inscriptions, of the popes of the third century from Pontian (ob. 235)
to Eutychian (ob. 282). Under the same Fabian arose the custom of
celebrating the accession of the Roman bishops by an annual commemoration, and
the dates of their accession to office and the days of their death began to be
entered in official lists. Under Fabian too the charitable activity of the
clergy was reorganized and the city of Rome divided into seven relief
districts (regiones) each of which was under
one of the seven deacons, who in turn was provided with a subdeacon as his
assistant and presumptive successor. Now too the other ‘minor
orders’ begin to appear in our sources: the ‘acolytes’ or attendants of the
bishop, the ‘lectors,’ who in the services read passages from holy scripture in
ceremonial style, and the ‘exorcists’ or those who exorcize demons, in whom the
primitive Christian gift of casting out devils lived on in after days.
Carthage, which was closely connected with Rome, adopted these offices at about
the same time.
From all this we gain the impression that towards
the middle of the third century the Roman community was steadily advancing in
prosperity and solidarity. In this period the basis was laid for the
development of the ecclesiastical ‘parishes’ in Rome and a number of the oldest
‘Titular-churches’ originated, which became the centres of the smaller parochial communities scattered throughout the capital. But the
Roman community remained a unity of which the bishop was the head. When Fabian
on 20 January 250 fell a victim to the Decian persecution, it was rightly held
inexpedient at once to choose a successor, and for the time being the
government of the community was left in the hands of the college of presbyters
and deacons. To this period belongs a correspondence with the bishop of
Carthage, which gives us the most valuable insight into the inner history of
the Church in the West.
IV.
ROME AND CARTHAGE
The African church was probably founded from
Rome. We have no certain information on the question, but the conjecture of
Roman origin is based upon its geographical situation and can be supported by a
statement of Tertullian’s that for Carthage Rome is vested with apostolic
authority. But in fact we have no knowledge of the ear.ly African church, and
it is not until about 180 that the earliest expressions of Christian life in
Africa become available. But as a compensation this church emerges into the
light of history with a great personality, and through Tertullian it
attained a spiritual leadership which it held and increased until the day when
Augustine’s life drew to its close in his episcopal city of Hippo Regius,
during its siege by the Vandals.
It must be admitted that the writings of this
first of the Latin Fathers tell us little enough about the rise of the African
church and of all that Christianity did and suffered about the year 200 in the
spiritually most alive of the provinces of the West. But instead we become the
more accurately acquainted with the movements of thought amidst which
Tertullian lived, and with the theological dangers which he strove to avert
from the church. We see clearly how all the controversial issues which
disturbed the Roman church after the middle of the second century were also
carried over to Africa. But the writings of Tertullian do not leave the
impression that the problems involved in the conflict of gnosticism,
Marcionism, and Monarchianism with the Logos theology, problems which
originated entirely in Greek thought, seriously disturbed the African church.
Tertullian deals with all these questions in his own vehement fashion, but
nowhere makes mention of any ecclesiastical counter-measures adopted by his
countrymen. For him it is a purely theoretical conflict, which in his own
fashion he brings to a victorious issue; and as its outcome he puts forth a
series of simple formulations which, taken in conjunction with the baptismal
confession as the regula fidei, contain
the epitome of the faith. This method was evidently suited to the sentiments
and to the comprehension of African churchmen, and his formulas of the one
Substance and three Persons of the Trinity, and of the two Substances in Christ,
did in fact anticipate the final issue of the dogmatic controversies of the
fourth and fifth centuries.
The African church was more vitally affected by
the Christian persecutions, and in his apologetic writings Tertullian not only
combated paganism in theoretical debate but appealed with legal arguments to
the conscience of the State officials and with moral arguments to his readers
among the pagan public. He can write with flaming eloquence in defence of the standards of Christian life and can describe
with wonderful effect the true sense of Christian fellowship. Because in his
own experience the Christian religion had brought him deliverance from moral
inferiority, he knew how to present this aspect of Christianity in all its
force; but, on the other hand, he was passionately sensitive when he saw this aspect
of it imperilled in the Church itself.
Thus he went over to Montanism at the time when
it was winning adherents in Africa and became a fanatical protagonist of the
new movement. This in the meantime had lost its original character and become a
movement of reaction in favour of the ideals of the
Primitive Church, combining a tradition of harsh austerity with the cultivation
and recognition of spiritual prophetism in opposition to the new-formed
officialdom of the Church. This brought him into sharp opposition to the native
church of Africa, with its hierarchical organization, and to many customs of
the community, which seemed to him illegitimate concessions to the world.
But in a vigorous pamphlet he also attacked the
Roman bishop Callistus, on the ground that Callistus wished to allow the
restoration of repentant sinners to the Church, even in cases of transgression
of the sixth commandment. It was the same far-sighted forbearance that in Rome
had aroused Hippolytus to battle. Tertullian’s moral and enthusiastic
radicalism answered to a widespread temper of mind in Africa and had many
adherents, especially in the country districts and in the province of Numidia.
A century later it gave birth to the storm of Donatism, which rent the African
church for many generations afterwards.
As a figure of church history, the personality of
Tertullian is eclipsed by that of Cyprian, bishop of Carthage. He was
elected in 248-9, but a year later had to leave the community and remain in
hiding in order to escape the persecution of Decius. During this period he
governed his community by letter and from his hiding-place continued
faithfully to fulfil his duty as a pastor of souls, as even those to whom his
departure had at first given offence had later to bear him witness.
While the persecution was still raging and the
number of those who had proved weak increased, the problem arose of how the
church was to care for the lapsed themselves. Were they, with the strictness of
the Primitive Church, to be abandoned as lost, or was it possible to point the
way to penance and to hold out to them the hope of being again received into
the Church? The general temper of the community was in favour of leniency and so these declared penance to be possible. Thereupon courageous
Christians, who were in prison for the confession they had made and were
awaiting death, began to pronounce absolution. They felt that as martyrs they
were endowed with and authorized by the holy Spirit, and in virtue of this
authority they issued to those of the lapsed who seemed to them worthy a
certificate (libellus pacis) which secured admission to the fellowship of the Eucharist. And there were
not a few clergy who recognized these certificates and re-admitted their
holders to the Eucharist without special examination and without the penance of
the Church.
Cyprian heard with growing displeasure of this
practice of the confessors, which seemed to him an abuse of martyrdom and to be
undermining the discipline of the Church, which was the concern of the bishop.
Added to this, the confessors in giving their certificates made no careful
examination of individual cases, but were very generous with their favour, and finally even issued open certificates without
specifying the individual names, and proclaimed a general pardon. In this they
found support from a group of Carthaginian presbyters who were hostile to
Cyprian.
The bishop corresponded about this question with the
Roman college of presbyters, which, as we have seen, had the management of
affairs while the see was vacant. Agreement was reached without difficulty
upon the principle that immediate admission to communion could only be
contemplated for those in danger of dying. Otherwise, the lapsed were to
receive pastoral care, but they were not to be restored so long as the
persecution lasted. When peace returned, the question of forgiveness and
admission to communion might be settled by episcopal synods: that would then be
the place to examine carefully each individual case and to treat it according
to the gravity of the fault, and there too proper consideration could be given
to the recommendations of the confessors.
This meant, of course, in reality a flat rejection
of the claims of these circles of martyrs. But Cyprian held his position with
iron resolution and was protected by his faithful clergy and supported by Rome.
The opposition then declared war upon him and refused obedience. When, after
the death of Decius (a.d. 2,51), the projected synods actually met, there too Cyprian was victorious. His
opponents, however, did not submit, but separated themselves and proclaimed Fortunatus rival bishop of Carthage; we hear of twenty-five
African bishops who joined him, a number the correctness of which Cyprian
vigorously disputed. In its actual effect, the decision of the African synods
proved to be more severe than it had seemed beforehand. The examination of the
gravity of the cases was conducted in bitter earnest, and to those who had
offered sacrifice for any reason short of the direst compulsion restoration was
still denied. When, however, in the spring of 253 a new persecution threatened,
a judicious leniency was exercised, and those who hitherto had still been
excluded were received again into the Church in order that the new conflict
might be met by a united Christendom. But the conflict did not come.
Meanwhile, in Rome too the problem of the
treatment of the lapsed had given rise to a serious difference of opinion.
During the vacancy of the see, the highly esteemed presbyter Novatian, who had
also won recognition as a theological writer, had been the spiritual leader of
the church; when, however, the episcopal see came to be filled, he was not
elected, but instead the presbyter Cornelius (March 251). The election did not
meet with unanimous approval, and a section of the clergy under the leadership
of Novatian refused to recognize Cornelius: and these opponents had a
considerable section of the community behind them. Cornelius showed a
far-reaching leniency towards the lapsed. Perhaps he had been elected because
such accommodation was expected from him. At all events, this question was
exploited to deepen the opposition and. make it one of principle, and Novatian
placed himself as rival bishop at the head of a congregation which wished to
remain a pure and holy church and not to be polluted by the membership of
apostates from Christ.
Cyprian was painfully surprised by the quarrel
over the election of the bishop in Rome, and delayed his recognition of
Cornelius till he had made more precise enquiries. Then he ranged himself on
the side of Cornelius, although the Novatianists were
developing an active propaganda in Africa also, which was not without effect.
In the East, where the Decian persecution apparently had less marked an effect
on the stability of the communities, Novatian’s action met with a powerful
response, and it needed the mediating activity of Dionysius, bishop of
Alexandria, to prevent a breach between the Eastern churches and Cornelius. The Novatianist churches existed for centuries afterwards
as separated societies and continued as the last survivals of the mentality of
the Primitive Church.
But, as was natural, in the third century the
first outburst of feeling which had often been further provoked by personal antagonism
subsided, and many Christians regretted the step they had taken in the first moments
of discontent and returned once more to the catholic church. Many of them had
received baptism whilst members of the Novatianist community, and in various districts the problem then arose whether baptism thus
administered outside the catholic church could be recognized as valid. In
Africa, where the question had already been discussed at an earlier date, a
negative answer was given. For Cyprian it was a matter of course that outside
the catholic church there could be no salvation, and consequently no true
sacraments, and in this view he was at one with the majority of the churches,
and especially with those of the East. Pope Stephen of Rome (254—6) took the
opposite point of view. The baptism of the Novatianists employed exactly the same forms as that of the catholic church, and no
difference of doctrine was involved that made it necessary to declare this
baptism invalid. The difference was not one of doctrine but of discipline, and
as the Novatianists also recognized the catholic
baptism—which in fact for the most part they had themselves received—there was
no ground for rejecting their baptism. When the Africans, in full consciousness
of this difference, brought their point of view, already confirmed by a
council, to the notice of the bishop of Rome, they received from Stephen an
unexpectedly sharp reply, and laid themselves open to the reproach, unwarranted
though it was, of having introduced an innovation that was in conflict with
tradition. Their protest had no effect upon Stephen’s attitude; on the
contrary, he proceeded to demand that all the churches should recognize the
Roman practice, which Could be traced back to the tradition of Peter. The
primacy conferred upon Peter by Christ Himself involved as its necessary
consequence the subordination of all churches to the Petrine tradition, which
was guarded by Peter’s successor.
The churches of the East, in which the anti-Roman
feeling of the Novatianist conflict was still
stirring, vehemently repudiated Stephen’s arrogant claim, and their spokesman
was Firmilian of Caesarea in Cappadocia, who wrote a
sharp letter maintaining the apostolic tradition of the Eastern churches
against the Roman thesis. Cyprian, in confirmation of his point of view, could
point to his doctrine of the Church, already fully developed some years before,
which stressed the idea of unity in the strongest terms. But this unity was
based upon the unity and equality of all bishops, all of whom alike were to be
regarded as the successors of the apostles. When Christ declared the apostle
Peter to be the foundation-stone of the Church, He intended the prominence thus
given to the first apostle as a symbol of unity, and did not intend to confer
on Peter or his successors any legal pre-eminence. In face of the attitude of
Stephen, the Africans were provoked into using Tertullian’s ironical formula
‘bishop of bishops,’ a conception they entirely rejected.
This conflict over heretical baptism, like that
over the question of Easter in earlier days, ended in the rejection of the
Roman claims. Stephen died a martyr’s death on 2 August 256, and Cyprian
followed him on 14 September 258. The dispute over heretical baptism lost its
acuteness and was forgotten. Forgotten too in the storms of the period were the
Roman claims to primacy. But the bishops of Rome preserved them faithfully, and
awaited the time that would allow them to revive them once more with greater
prospect of success.
V.
ROME AND ALEXANDRIA
When the relations of the West with the East
during the period of the Early Church are surveyed as a whole, it is noticeable
that the Alexandrian church stood throughout somewhat apart from the other
provinces of the East, while on the other hand it throughout cultivated
intimate relations, theologically and ecclesiastically, with the imperial city
of Rome—until in the middle of the fifth century the policy of Dioscurus and his exorbitant claims to power severed the
link.
Nothing indeed is known of the beginnings of
Christianity in Egypt, and it is in connection with the gnostic movement that
we first hear of notable leaders such as Basilides and Valentinus, who claimed
to represent true Christianity in opposition to the catholic church. The
recently expressed opinion that in the earliest period Christianity in Egypt
was predominantly gnostic and that it was in opposition to gnosticism that catholic communities first came into being has great probability. It then
at once becomes clear that none of the Eastern church provinces rendered this
signal service to Egyptian orthodoxy, but that it was the Roman church that
facilitated the formation of catholic communities among the Alexandrians and
consecrated their first bishop. This supposition provides the simplest explanation
of the close relationship that existed between Alexandria and Rome during the
following centuries, and in particular of the attitude of respectful submission
to Roman authority shown by the bishop of Alexandria, which from time to time
unmistakably appears. Alexandria, towards the end of the second century,
adopted the New Testament Canon of Rome, including the Roman apocalypse of Hermas, and in the succeeding period continued to hold the
rival bishop of Rome, Hippolytus, together with his writings, in high regard,
whilst the Roman church forgot both him and his work and retained only the
remembrance of Hippolytus the martyr.
About the middle of the third century an
instructive theological controversy between the two cities took place.
Dionysius, the active bishop of
Alexandria, who played an energetic part in many spheres, protested strongly
and repeatedly against the propaganda which Sabellius was conducting in Libya and the Pentapolis on behalf of the Monarchian theology.
And opposition to Sabellius’ denial of the
individual personality of the Logos led him to maintain the sharply opposed
thesis that the Logos was to be regarded as a creature, and that the Father was
related to him no otherwise than as the husbandman to the vine and the boatbuilder
to the boat. He was not co-eternal with the Father, but first came into being
with, and in, time. Persons of repute in Alexandria took offence at this, and
they significantly addressed their complaints to his namesake, bishop Dionysius
of Rome: among their complaints was one that the Alexandrian pastor did not
ascribe to the Logos the predicate homoousios, a designation which was evidently already widely current, though not yet
sufficiently thought out theologically.
The bishop of Rome summoned a council to deal
with the Alexandrian petition, and then addressed a treatise to the Alexandrian
church in which he rejected alike Sabellianism and the formulas employed by
Dionysius of Alexandria, without indeed mentioning his colleague by name. That
he should have administered this correction shows clearly that the bishop of
Rome felt that he possessed a special authority in relation to the Egyptian
church, and the effect of his communication shows us that the bishop of
Alexandria also regarded it as a duty to submit himself with respectful
deference to the Roman decision. For he did not reply, as did the later
patriarchs, with vehement opposition, but published an extensive work in his
own defence, which to judge from outward appearances
signified the full withdrawal of his earlier point of view and assent to the Roman
thesis of the eternity of the Son. In accordance with the Roman communication
he drew a distinction between begetting and creating, and in carefully
qualified sentences even accepted the term homoousios. The outcome of the affair was significant for Rome as a further step in the
advancement of her power, and for the Church as a whole as a prelude to the
Arian controversy, which in the fourth century was to do such injury to
Christendom. The legend, already found in the fourth-century ‘Monarchian’ prologues
to the Gospels, of the founding of the Alexandrian see by Mark the disciple of
Peter is the reflection of the actual relationship between Alexandria and Rome.
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