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THE DIVINE HISTORY OF JESUS CHRIST

READING HALL

THE DOORS OF WISDOM

THE CREATION OF THE UNIVERSE ACCORDING GENESIS

 

CAH.VOL.XII

THE IMPERIAL CRISIS AND RECOVERY. A.D. 193-324


CHAPTER XV

THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH IN THE WEST

I.

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.