The Imperial Church from Constantine to the Early Middle Ages. // History of the Church. Ed. Hubert Jedin, John Dolan. Vol. II. 846 pp.

Content

PART THREE

Inner Life of the Church between Nicaea and Chalcedon

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CHAPTER 13

Missionary Activity of the Church

The religious and political turning point of the years 311-324 meant also for the Church's missionary task hitherto unknown possibilities. It is true that the number of Christians, especially in the far more ur banized eastern part of the Empire and in Roman North Africa in creased considerably in the third century, but still, in comparison with the totality of the Empire's population, they represented a minority, noteworthy though it was. The now favorable point of departure for gaining the pagan majority, however, concealed certain dangers in an appraisal of the credibility of the Christian confession. One was that of conversions because of opportunism, which appeared almost automat ically with the acceptance and encouragement of Christianity by the Emperors and could not but encumber the Church with many a purely external Christian. Another, more pernicious in its possible conse quences, was the temptation in evangelizing to employ, with the tolera tion or even the aid of the State, means and methods that aspired to effect the conversion to Christianity by pressure and force rather than conviction. It will be shown that the Christian mission of this period did not always escape such a danger. Nevertheless, the outcome of the Church's missionary exertions lasting for more than a century was clear: around the middle of the fifth century the people of the Roman Empire professed and felt themselves to be Christians, except for a few pagan remnants, the closed group of the Jews, and some German tribes. Un fortunately no contemporary wrote down the course and character of this process of christianization in a special treatise: hence it can be put together only out of many individual reports and remains and always only incompletely.

1. Christianization of the Population of the Empire*

The mission of the Egyptian Church1 was c. 325 in an especially favora ble starting-place, since, with its approximately ninety episcopal sees at that time, it had already found its definitive organizational basis, from

* References will be made in the proper place to the mission beyond the imperial frontier.

1 H. Leclercq, "Egypte," DACL IV, 2430-71; E. Hardy, Christian Egypt (New York 1952); H. Idris Bell, Cults and Creeds in Greco-Roman Egypt (Liverpool 1954).

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which the christianization of peasants, still mostly pagan, could be un dertaken. In Athanasius it already had the supreme head of a territorial church, and he, aware of his goal, guided the evangelization from his center at Alexandria. In a letter to the Monk-Bishop Dracontius of Hermopolis Parva (c. 354-55) he designated the evangelization of pa gans as the eminently episcopal duty and expected that the erecting of this see would bring with it a larger number of conversions, especially since pagans themselves had held out the prospect of their conversion if a bishop was given to them. He firmly urged the christianization of southern Egypt and kept himself personally informed on the spot; per haps he founded the see of Syene in such a "visitation journey." Cer tainly the still young congregation on the Nile island of Philai owed its first bishop to his initiative. When the army inspector for Upper Egypt, the Christian Macedonius, reported that the Christians in this pagan pilgrimage center, with its celebrated temple of Isis, had not even a church and were attended to only sporadically by clergy from Syene, Athanasius appointed this very officer as Bishop of Philai: he worked there long and successfully and was even able to win for the Christian faith Mark, the son of the pagan high priest. The success of his mission ary efforts motivated the still pagan circles of Alexandria, which from 360 to 390 had as their spiritual head the Neoplatonist Antoninus and participated actively in the worship of Sarapis and of Isis in Menuthis, to the resolute defense of their faith. In 391 occurred a bloody clash between Christians and pagans of Alexandria, in which the authoritarian Bishop Theophilus was not guiltless, in connection with a ridiculing procession which Christians arranged with pagan cult objects. The Em peror then had the great temple of Sarapis closed and transferred to the Christians, who remodeled it into a Christian church; the same fate later befell the temple of Isis at Menuthis. The most shocking incident in the confrontation between pagans and Christians in Egypt was the death of the pagan philosopher Hypatia in 415: after severe maltreatment, she was cruelly murdered by a fanatical mob under the leadership of a

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lector. Beside the bishop there appeared also the monk as missionary in Egypt; he devoted himself especially to the conversion of pagan priests, since this usually implied further conversions. A distasteful example of monastic missionary zeal is offered in the first half of the fifth century by the powerful Abbot Schenute, superior of the White Monastery of Atripe at Akhmim (Sohag) in Upper Egypt. Against the still relatively strong pagan minority he instigated the Christians by inflammatory words, took part personally with groups of his monks in the destruction of their temples and the plundering of their villages, and thereby very seriously compromised the Christian mission.7 Casual missionaries were the two priests Protogenes and Eulogius of Edessa, who had been banished under the Emperor Valens because of their fidelity to Nicaea to the Upper Egyptian village of Antinoe, where they at once gathered around them the children of the still overwhelmingly pagan inhabitants, taught them to read and write in a sort of anticipated mission-school, and after some time baptized them.8

For the external success of the missionary work of the Egyptian Church the assertions relating to the city of Oxyrrhynchus may be taken as typical. Circa 300, there were here, besides a synagogue and a dozen pagan temples, two Christian churches; a century later it shows twelve Christian churches, whose number increased still more into the sixth century. Soon after 400 A.D., only a minority professed paganism, and after fifty more years the christianization of the country was completed. However, many of the new Christians broke only with difficulty from the influences of their former religion. As late as 420 Bishop Cyril in his Easter letters repeatedly had to speak against superstitious practices. Especially among the peasants magic and sorcery held on tenaciously, and many a specifically Egyptian cult, such as the veneration of the Nile, could be overcome only in a painful process of "christianization."

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Athanasius's missionary interest extended beyond the frontiers of Egypt, since c. 350 he ordained Frumentius, a native of Tyre, for an area which has been universally identified with Ethiopia and its contempo rary capital, Axum. The brothers Frumentius and Aedesius, on their

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return from a journey to India, had gone to land in a port on the African coast of the Red Sea and from there were taken to the court of Axum, where they soon obtained positions of trust. Later, on his return journey to his Syrian homeland, Frumentius pointed out to Athanasius at Alexandria the possibilities of a Christian mission in the Kingdom of Axum, whereupon Athanasius ordained him a bishop and sent him back to Ethiopia. Athanasius confirmed this procedure himself in his Apologia to Constantius II, in which he reproduced a letter of the Emperor to the Ethiopian King Ezana, in which Constantius demanded the expulsion of Frumentius to Egypt so that the Arian Bishop George of Alexandria could examine the legality of his ordination and his faith. The activity of Frumentius found expression also in Ethiopian tradition, which gave him the name of Abba Salama (Father of Peace) and commemorates him in the liturgy on 26 Hamle (20 July). In addition, it is reported by the Byzantine historians Theodoret, Socrates, and Theophanes; only the Arian Philostorgius attributes the first mission among the Ethiopians to his fellow Arian Theophilus, who had earlier worked in Yemen at the command of the Emperor Constantius II.12 The prevailing interpreta tion of the sources shows that preference should be given to it rather than to the one recently proposed, according to which Frumentius was ordained by Athanasius as Bishop for Hither India and was never in Axum, and that Christianity came to Ethiopia only in the second third of the fifth century in its Monophysite form.13 It can never satisfactorily explain either the letter of the Emperor Constantius to the then ruler of Axum or especially the Ethiopian tradition regarding Frumentius.

Important stimuli for the Christian mission in Palestine14 went out from Constantine, who through his initiative for the erecting and adorn ing of Christian churches on the sites of Judaeo-Christian history, with their wealth of tradition, pushed the land of origin of Christianity pow erfully into the consciousness of contemporary Christianity. Jerusalem especially, with its immediate neighborhood, obtained in the course of the fourth centuryЧafter a brief interruption due to the reaction under the Emperor JulianЧeven in externals the character of a fully Christian city, with the steadily growing number of its churches, monasteries, oratories, and hospices, which attracted ever larger crowds of pilgrims, some of whom settled for long periods in Palestine and contributed greatly to the strengthening of the native Christianity. Even in

12 Thus Rufinus, HE 10, 9, who refers to the oral report of Aedesius; Athanasius, Apol. ad Constant. 29-31; Theodoret, HE 1, 23; Socrates, HE 1, 19; Theophanes, Chron. 5, 13; Philostorgius, HE 3, 6.

14 Thus F. Altheim-R. Stiehl, Christentum am Roten Meer I (Berlin 1971), 393-483.

16 H. Leclercq, "Palestine," DACL XIII, 755-767; F. M. Abel, Histoire de Palestine II (Paris 1952).

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Caesarea, the seat of the civil administration, there existed relatively early a rather strong gentile Christian community, and in the port city of Maiuma the majority were Christian under Constantine. But in the countryside Christianity had as yet only a few adherents, since Judaism to a great extent refused to have anything to do with the Christian mission. The eighteen congregations of Palestine represented at Nicaea constituted only a minority of the total population of these sees. Bishop Asclepas, who had to care for the Christians of Gaza and its vicinity, could have a residence in the city only as a result of Constan- tine's intervention, and toward the end of the fourth century the num ber of Christians here and in the coastal towns of Anthedon and Raphia were still insignificant. In Tiberias, Capharnaum, Nazareth, and Diocaesarea a Christian of Jewish birth, Joseph, had Christian churches built because here there were only a few Christians. The powerful anti-Christian wave under the Emperor Julian revealed in the Palestin ian provinces the stubborn resistance of Jews and pagans which the mission here encountered. In the territory of ancient Edom, Aila (Aqaba), on the north shore of the gulf of that name, was mentioned as the first episcopal see at the time of Nicaea, and at the same time there was an episcopal congregation in the old Nabataean city of Petra. Two more episcopal sees on the south shore of the Dead Sea are known through the list of participants in the Councils of Ephesus and Chalce- don, and at Chalcedon there was present also a bishop from the island of Jotabe (Tirana) in the Gulf of Aqaba. To the Patriarchate of Jerusalem belonged two communities in the territory of Moab, Areopolis, whose Bishop Anastasius was at Ephesus in 449, and Characucoba, which is attested by the mosaic map of Madaba. Also in Palestine monks ap peared as missionaries, such as Hilarion, who was active in the vicinity of Gaza and in the Negev, and Euthymius, to whom the see of Parem- bolai owes its origin and for which Juvenal of Jerusalem, at his request, c. 425 ordained as bishop a sheik of a Saracen tribe. The Christian

INNER LIFE OF THE CHURCH BETWEEN NICAEA AND CHALCEDON

mission in the three Palestinian provinces probably did not achieve its strongest impact until the fifth century. The lists of participants in the two Synods of Jerusalem of 518 and 536 name some fifty bishops for them, who were spread out preponderantly in places with the rank of cities.

In the Roman province of Arabia, with its eastern frontier never determined and in the south too often shifting, a greater missionary activity was inaugurated when Constantine assumed sole rule. It pro ceeded from the provincial capital, Bostra, which was the seat of a bishop as early as the third century. The Metropolitan of the city was the object of a severe attack by the Emperor Julian, who called upon the population to expel him. Between Nicaea and Chalcedon the number of bishoprics here rose from five to eighteen, two of which, Madaba and Gerasa, testify by the completeness and quality of the extant Christian monuments that in the fifth and sixth centuries Christianity must have been the predominant religion of their inhabitants. Again monks shared in the mission work. The tribal Princess Mawia asked for the hermit Moses as bishop, and the conversion of the Saracen Sheik Zocomos likewise went back to the influence of a monk.

Christian missionary activity in non-Roman South Arabia got under way through the Emperor Constantius II, when he, probably also out of political considerations, sent an embassy under the leadership of the Arian Theophilus "the Indian," from the island of Socotra, to the Himyarites (Negran). Despite the competition from Judaism, it had a certain success, since the tribal Prince allowed the building of three churches, for which he even placed the means at the disposal of the Christians; one arose in the capital, Zafar, the second in the port city of Aden, the temporary quarters of the Roman merchant fleet, and the third on the Persian Gulf. Monophysite missionaries from Egypt and Nestorians from the North also strove in the fifth century to gain the Himyarites, for whom a bishop is demonstrable in Negran c. 500. But the Christian church in Negran was destroyed in an attack by the Jewish

Sabaean King Masruq in 523, and some Christians met death, including Arethas, later venerated as a martyr. Thereafter the South Arabian Christians remained a weak minority, which, after the appearance of Muhammad, partly migrated to Kufra on the Euphrates.

The Christian community of the Syrian capital, Antioch, recovered rapidly from the reverses of the persecutions of Diocletian and Licinius, especially since it was able to enjoy the emphatic benevolence of Con- stantine. Up to the reign of the Emperor Julian, probably the majority of the city's population belonged to it, since the Christians could even dare public counter-demonstrations against the Emperor's measures of repression. Even the literary polemic of Julian and of the rhetor Libanius could not stop the progress of the mission, with which the atrophying of the pagan temple service ran parallel. When Chrysostom said c. 390 that in the event that each of the "approximately hundred thousand" Chris tians would donate a loaf, the misery of the poor of Antioch would be decidedly alleviated, it was thereby declared that at the end of the fourth century the city was regarded as Christian. Theodoret of Cyrrhus confirms this for 415, since he knew at that time of still only an "entirely small remnant of pagans" in the city, to which, however, must be added a considerable Jewish community. Finally, this situation was also re flected in the number of the churches constructed at Antioch in the fourth century: to the church of the Old City, destroyed under Diocle tian but soon rebuilt, were added the Constantinian basilica and three memorial churches of the martyrs Babylas, Romanus, and Drosis. Three factors conditioned this favorable missionary development of the Syrian metropolis: the greater power of radiation of the Christian mes sage in comparison with the here especially questionable pagan system of worship; the intensive recruiting of man to man, to which the pastor Chrysostom tirelessly exhorted the congregation; and finally the at- traction emanating from monasticism, highly esteemed in Syria, and from leaders of communities, such as Eustathius, Meletius, Flavian, and of preachers and theologians, such as Chrysostom, Diodorus, Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Theodoret of Cyrrhus.

Outside Antioch also the Syrian people accepted Christianity rela tively quickly, since as early as the mid-fourth century there were churches in numerous cities and villages of the Syrian and Phoenician provinces, as appears from the reports of the Church historians on the pagan reaction under Julian. At that time, for example, two churches in Damascus were burned, the church at Beirut was destroyed, and the cult of Dionysus was introduced into the Christian churches of Epiphania and Emesa. For the fourth and fifth centuries the existence of a notable ecclesiastical architecture can be shown in the entire Syrian area; moreover, the numerous Christian inscriptions permit the con clusion that at the beginning of the fifth century the majority of the Syrian peasants also professed the Christian religion. An informative piece of evidence for the situation in a single bishopric is provided by the famous letter of Theodoret of Cyrrhus to Pope Leo, whom he tells that his see embraces 800 paroikiai, by which can only be understood overwhelmingly rural pastoral districts. This complete evidence is cor roborated by the status of the ecclesiastical organization in the territory of the Patriarchate of Antioch at the time of the Council of Chalcedon, which then exhibited some 130 episcopal sees. Once more a special rank belongs to monasticism, above all in the rural sections of the Syrian provinces. The early Stylites had already established their reputation among the people in the service of evangelization. The monks Thalelaus (in the vicinity of Gabala) and Abraam were mentioned as zealous mis sionaries; the latter gained "a large village" in the Lebanon especially by means of his social solicitude for the faith. He later continued his activ ity in Osrhoene, where, as Bishop of Karai south of Edessa, he found a still pagan majority. Edessa itself needed in the fourth century only to give to the external picture of the city a Christian character by the erecting of new churches and martyrs' shrines within and without the walls, but the emphasis on the missionary duty of all Christians by Ephrem the Syrian still indicates the continued existence of paganism in the wider neighborhood. Missionaries from Edessa had made Chris tianity known in the Roman frontier province of Mesopotamia before Constantine, and bishops from the communities of Macedonopolis, Re- saina, and perhaps even Amida were among the participants of the Council of Nicaea. The sources for the fourth century provide no more detailed information on the progress of the mission in the sparsely settled rural districts.

Even in the fourth century the Antiochene mission embraced also the Arab nomads in the East Syrian frontier district, since "a Bishop of the Arabs," Timothy, was present at the Synod of Antioch in 363. Chrysos- tom probably had the same area in mind when in a letter to the priest Constantius he spoke of Phoenicia and "Arabia" as his mission-field. Christian Arab nomads lived here until the days of Islam. The Arab tribes living still farther to the east in the territory of Hira under the Lakhmid Dynasty, however, owed their first acquaintance with Chris tianity to Christian prisoners who were settled here by the Sassanids. Later, the Nestorians, very eager to engage in evangelization, likewise worked here and asserted their influence even as far as the South Ara bian Negran and achieved remarkable successes among the Arabs on the western coast of the Persian Gulf. East Syrian Christians from the Sassanid Kingdom continued in the fourth to sixth centuries the mis sions begun earlier in North India and perhaps also took under their care the Christian communities of South India that had been founded from Egypt, as an exact analysis of the Thomas Tradition makes proba ble. The Nestorian mission achieved its greatest expansion when it pushed into Central Asia, to Tibet, China, and even to Manchuria, and could establish here the provinces "of the Outside."

To the fourth century (c. 325-361) belongs also the conversion of the Georgians, on the southern slopes of the central Caucasus; it was begun by a Christian female prisoner, later called Nino; and King Mirian, whom she converted, permitted Greek missionaries, probably from Antioch, to come to his country. At the beginning of the fifth century the Georgian Church had already gained a degree of autonomy, which was completed by the appointment of a Catholicus under King Wachtang I (446-499X The fact that the head of the Georgian Church had to be ordained at Antioch into the eighth century may probably indicate an earlier missionary tie.

The relatively high state of christianization achieved at the beginning of the fourth century in the still undivided province of CiliciaЧnine bishops and one chorepiscopus represented it at NicaeaЧprobably ob tained a new impetus from the destruction of the temple of Asclepius at Aegae by Constantine. At the time of the Council of Chalcedon, in fact, it must have come to an end, for the two provinces into which Cilicia had been divided toward the end of the fourth century now comprised seventeen sees. A similar growth in the number of bishoprics between Nicaea and ChalcedonЧfrom ten to twenty-twoЧoccurred in the provinces of Isauria, likewise oriented toward Antioch; Seleucia, the metropolitan see of Isauria, attracted many pilgrims through the sanctuary of Thecla that stood before its walls. But the inhabitants of the Isaurian mountains, long feared because of their raids, remained inaccessible to the gospel much longer, since as late as the fifth century they attacked Christian monasteries and communities and carried off their bishops into captivity.

The completion of the evangelization of the island of Cyprus may have coincided with the recognition of its ecclesiastical independence in regard to Antioch at the Council of Ephesus of 431. Here too the progress of the mission can be ascertained only externally in the grow- iJiiJOiVylN AIVI aLiivui OF THE CHURCH

ing number of bishops. At Nicaea the island was represented by three bishopsЧa larger number of sees is, however, not to be excludedЧand at the Synod of Serdica (c. 342) twelve took part, while in his circular to the bishops of the island c. 400 Theophilus of Alexandria mentioned fifteen of those addressed by name, among whom are to be counted some chorepiscopi. Around the turn of the fifth century Bishop Tychon of Amathus still had to confront followers of the cults of Aphrodite and Artemis. But a mosaic epigram of the fifth century reflects the final situation: Christ is victor over Apollo.

In Asia Minor as a whole the end of the age of persecution made public that the majority of the Greek and Hellenized population of the cities and of the larger rural centers of settlement had already been won for the Christian religion. A wide-meshed net of episcopal congrega tions covered the provinces at the time of Nicaea, and from the day-to day life of these communities proceeded the missionary attraction which in the next decades disposed the greater part of those who were still pagans to the acceptance of Christianity. Specifically missionary ques tions strikingly disappeared in the decrees of Asia Minor synods of the first half of the fourth century. The growing christianization of the peasantry in particular is noticeable in the remarkably large number of chorepiscopi in some Asia Minor provinces: for example, in the days of Basil there were some fifty of them for the see of Caesarea. The efforts of the Emperor Julian to restore paganism found only the slightest echo in Asia Minor. All the eagerness of his vicar for Asia, Justus, who had sacrificial altars again constructed at Sardes, sought to rebuild decayed or destroyed temples, and himself offered public sacrifices, remained as much without effect as did his displeasure that in Galatia the wives, children, and domestic servants of many pagan priests were Christians. When, c. 450, an inhabitant of Ephesus put in an inscription that he had replaced the statue of Artemis with a cross, the change that was under way was expressed powerfully in symbol. Naturally, from now on, especially in the cities and among the upper class, some individuals still professed paganism or secretly adhered to it. Also smaller ethnic groups, such as the tribe of the Magusaeans, who had moved from Babylonia to Cappadocia and whose religious world is described in detail by Basil, clung to their ancestral religion. In the early fifth century the monk Hypatius did missionary work in Bithynia, which had very long had a majority of Christians, and considerable groups of adherents of pagan cults still existed in the time of the Emperor Justinian I in the mountains of the provinces of Asia, Caria, Lydia, and Phrygia, since John of Ephesus claims at that time to have converted "tens of thou sands" of them from Constantinople in accordance with a well prepared mission plan and the aid of new monastic foundations.

A special role in the process of the evangelization of Asia Minor may be attributed for the fourth century to Cappadocia. The bishops of the metropolis, Caesarea, from where the christianization of Armenia by Gregory the Illuminator started, maintained lively contact with their daughter churches; until 374 they ordained the Armenian chief bishop and claimed a son of right of visitation in the communities of Asia Minor. The see of Caesarea became, with its organization of ecclesias tical community lifeЧsocial care, liturgy, organization of monasticism, elimination of pagan cult shrinesЧand the type of public life allied with it in relation to Christian life, the missionary model for the congrega tions of the neighboring provinces. And the very openness of the Cappadocians among the bishops of Asia Minor toward a profane edu cation became a missionary factor of the first order, since it essentially facilitated conversion to Christianity on the part of the upper class, which stood close to these bishops socially. The receptiveness of Cap padocia to the missionary task is finally discernible in the series of im portant missionaries whom it produced, as, for example, the Bishop of

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the Goths Ulfilas, Eutyches, who labored among the Goths of the Crimea, and Vetranio, who became Bishop of Tomi in Scythia.

In the other provinces of the Diocese of Pontus the missionary task of the communities in city and countryside in the fourth century consisted chiefly in the deepening and elaborating of the religious life, as is clear from the discussions of the Synods of Ancyra (314), Neocaesarea (be tween 314 and 325), and Gangra (340-41). Only occasionally were missionary enterprises or procedures mentioned in the sources for the fourth century in the heavily urbanized provinces of the west coast of Asia Minor. In the Hellespont Bishop Parthenius of Lampsacus in the middle of the century had to ask the Emperor's permission to do away with the still open pagan temple; to John Chrysostom is attributed the combating of the cult of Cybele in Phrygia and the definitive elimina tion of the worship of Artemis at Ephesus.

In regard to the further development of the Christian religion on the islands of the Aegean Sea the sources permit no detailed statements. It may have proceeded to the larger islands, such as Rhodes, Samos, Chios, Lesbos, and Lemnos, just as to the nearby coastal cities. Here and there an archeological discovery indicates the building of a church in the pre-Byzantine period.

In the southern provinces of the Diocese of ThraceЧEuropa and RhodopeЧfor the period c. 300 one can pretty much assume the state of christianization which had been achieved in the Asia Minor provinces of Hellespont and Bithynia, which lay opposite. Indeed, in the Thracian interior there were also pre-Nicene communities, as at Philippopolis, Adrianople, Deultum, Anchialus, and Durosturum, from which proba bly came "the Moesians and Thracians" among the bishops whom Eusebius mentions as participants in the Dedication Synod of Jerusalem in 331. The central and northern Thracian provinces were only touched by the Christian mission to a greater degree in the fourth century. Their special interest was of importance to the Gothic tribes which had settled on the lower Danube. The most successful missionary was the already mentioned Ulfilas, who, after his episcopal ordination in 341, worked to the north of the Danube until persecution compelled the Christian Goths to flee c. 350: they were then settled by the Em peror Constantius in Lower Moesia. Later missionaries were active among the nomadic Gothic tribes on the lower Danube, sent there by Chrysostom, who in Constantinople itself had exerted himself to win the Goths and even in his exile was concerned that Bishop Unilas, whom he had ordained, should receive a worthy successor. In the last decades of the fourth century occurred the missionary work of Bishop Nicetas of Remesiana from the province of Dacia, who succeeded, after a full year's exertions, in gaining the tribes of Thracian Bessae in the mountains around Philippopolis; they became especially zealous adher ents of the new faith. Likewise under the Emperor Arcadius the Abbot Jonas of the monastery of Halmyrissus in the Thracian mountain range with his monks evangelized the inhabitants in the vicinity: his fight against pagan idols reminds one of the procedures employed ear lier in Gaul by Martin of Tours.

For the Diocese of Macedonia as a whole, a clear missionary lag is established by a glance at the provinces of Asia Minor, despite the great tradition of the congregations founded there by Paul. To them, it is true, up to the Council of Nicaea had been added other communities in Larissa, Thebes, on Euboea, at Sparta, on Crete, in Nicopolis, in Epirus, as well as at Stobi and Skupi in Macedonia proper, but paganism was long able to maintain itself here, not. only in the country, but also in cult centers such as Delphi and Eleusis and especially at Athens itself. When Basil and Gregory Nazianzen studied at the Athenian school of higher learning around the mid-century, the city was still overwhelm ingly pagan, the Panathenaea and the festivals in honor of Dionysus were still publicly celebrated, and Christian students were in the minor ity. In an edict which forbade nocturnal sacrifices, Valentinian I exemp ted the mystery cults of Greece; as late as 375 people attributed to the sacrifices in honor of Achilles and Athena the fact that Athens and Attica were spared the earthquake that then hit southern Greece. At Athens the esteem and influence of paganism were kept alive especially through the teachings of the later Platonic Academy, whose staunch rejection of Christianity was permitted up to the time of Justinian I. Only Alaric's invasion of Greece in 395 and the gradual execution of the decrees of Theodosius I and his sons on the closing of the temples caused the decline and disappearance of the pagan cults. The transfor mation of many cult centers, including the complex of the Acropolis, into Christian churches in the first half of the fifth century seems to have succeeded without resistance. ' The increase in the number of episcopal sees between the beginning of the fourth and the middle of the fifth century from between ten and fifteen to almost fifty makes equally clear that the break-through in the evangelization of Greece only occurred after 400.

For the Danubian provinces of the Dioceses of Dacia and Illyricum, as well as for Dalmatia, a rather similar course of missionary work must be assumed. To the pre-Nicene congregations, such as Sirmium, Siscia, and Salona, whose existence is attested by the martyrdoms under Dio cletian and Licinius, there were added in the course of the fourth cen tury about a dozen more, among them Serdica, Naissus, Remesiana, Viminacium, Singidunum, Mursa, and Sabaria, from which the rural areas were gradually evangelized from the end of the century. The unstable political situation of the frontier areas and also the Arian con troversy, which was spirited precisely in the central Balkans, often ob structed a continuous mission. And the remarkably tenacious persis tence of pagan cults restricted the progress of christianization. Nicetas of Remesiana, just mentioned, must be again singled out as a missionary in Dacia in the years before and after 400. The rich archeological finds in the Dalmatian coastal city of Salona make possible today an instruc tive glimpse into the sometimes stormy progress of Christianity in a rather large urban settlement. Here, for example, the missionary work was begun c. 300 by merchants who, according to their grave inscrip tions, probably came from Syria; according to the evidence of the first two bishops in the persecution of Diocletian, this young nucleus grew quickly into a flourishing community, as the basilicas, baptisteries, and burial grounds prove and the honorable treatment of the Bishop of Salona by Pope Zosimus in 418 confirms; it continued as a metropolitan see until the invasion of the Slavs at the beginning of the seventh century. From there were then evangelized the Dalmation interior and Albania just to the south.

In Pannonia, Sirmium, quite early important in ecclesiastical poli tics, was the base from which in the last quarter of the fourth century proceeded an intensive missionary work among the peasants; it had largely achieved its goal by the time of the Avar invasion. This applies also to the area of Vienna, which belonged to Pannonia Superior, as archeological discoveries in Klosterneuburg, Petronell (Carnuntum), Donnerskirchen, Au am Leithaberg, and statements of the Vita Severini show. For the two provinces of Noricum one must reckon with missionary undertakings which came from Aquileia to the south. Here too the pre-Constantinian starting-points, Lorch and Pettau, were fur ther developed, and from the end of the fourth century the rural areas were included in the mission; in them destructions of pagan temples and the building of Christian churches, especially numerous in the interior of Noricum, can be demonstrated for this period. Athanasius also mentions bishops from Noricum who approved the decrees issued in his favor by the Synod of Serdica, but he does not specify their sees. But episcopal communities certainly arose in Roman times at Virunum (Maria Saal), Teurnia (St. Peter i. Holz), Aguntum (near Lienz), and Celeia (Cilli), while one may assume rather than exclude those for Juvavum (Salzburg) and Ovilava (Wels). The efficacy of Saint Severinus in Noricum Ripense from 453 or 454 was no longer primarily missionary: it especially served charitable concerns, the organization of monasticism, and the peaceful association of Catholics and Arian Ger mans.

The christianization of Upper Italy and of the Raetian provinces (Italia Annonaria)84 first began on a broad scale likewise only in the fourth century. To the three episcopal churches of Milan, Aquileia, and Ravenna, which certainly belong to the period before 300, were added around the turn of the century Padua, Verona, Brescia, and Bologna, while the other bishoprics north of the Apennines originated only in the later fourth and the fifth centuries. The missionary importance of Milan, the sole metropolis of the fourth century, is brought into clear relief by the other sees. It was determined by the city's commercial situation as the starting-point of important routes, especially to the Alpine passages, through its character as the Late Roman administrative center and impe rial residence, but also through the great esteem which the bishops of the fourth century had won for the community, starting with Mirocles, who took part in the Synods of Rome (313) and Aries (314), to Eustor- gius and Dionysius, firm anti-Arians, down to Ambrose. Under the sure guidance of Ambrose, the Early Christian Church of Milan gained its strongest missionary efficacy. It was accomplished first by the preach ing of the bishop, who over and over reminded the members of his congregation of their personal duty through a pure life to make the Christian faith attractive to pagans of their neighborhood; in addition, he appealed directly to the pagans and Jews among his audience and sought to clear up their reservations in regard to Christianity. The impact of the Metropolitan Ambrose was determined just as strongly in relation to missionary activity. Personal relations between him and the Bishops of Como, whom he ordained, of Pavia (Ticinum) and Lodi (Laus Pompeia) make his collaboration in the erecting of these sees likely,87 and his correspondence with the Bishops Constantius and Vigilius treated the missionary task of preaching or the problem of marriage between Christians and pagans.88 Milan's missionary radiation is also made known by the fact that a series of Upper Italian bishops of the day came from the metropolis, such as Felix of Bologna, Theodore of Mo- dena, and perhaps also Sabinus of Piacenza. In two important cases Am brose finally assumed missionary tasks which extended far beyond his metropolitan province. When the Princess of the Marcomanni, Fritigil, asked him for more detailed information on the Christian faith, he wrote for her a catechism in the style of a letter.89 In the great confronta tion with the group that was trying to restore paganism at Rome, he was the preeminent speaker on the Catholic side. Similar missionary initia tives are not known in connection with any of the contemporary Roman bishops.

Christianity had still not penetrated c. 400 into the valleys of the southern Alpine strips, as, for example, in the Val di Non near Trent, where at that time three clerics, probably on instructions from Bishop Vigilus, first built a little church, from which they started their mission. They were killed by the pagan population when they refused, for them selves and their few converts, to take part in a pagan procession through the fields. But the death of the missionaries became the occasion for the quick conversion of the inhabitants of the valley.90 Bishops Zeno of Verona (c. 362-372) Gaudentius of Brescia (d. before 406), and Maximus of Trier (c. 397-415) found themselves in a genuinely mission ary situation. They saw the members of their communities not only threatened by still continuing pagan customs; there still existed all around them a considerable pagan minority, especially among the peas ants, who were often carelessly left alone in their veneration of idols and their sacrificial rites.91 Some came occasionally to hear the bishop's preaching; Maximus addressed them at the beginning of Lent and asked

S7ECatt VI, 19-26; XII, 1234-1237; I, 655ff.

88 Epp. 4, 2, 19.

90 Paulinus, Vita Ambrosii, 36.

92 Report of Vigilius of Trent: PL 13, 549-558, substantially confirmed by Gaudentius of Brescia, Tract. 17, and Maximus of Turin, Sermones 105-108. See I. Rogger, I martiri Anauniesi (Trent, 2nd ed. 1966), and C. E. Chaffin, Stpatr 10 (TU 107, Berlin 1970), 263-269.

94 F.J. Dolger, "Christliche Grundbesitzer und heidnische Landarbeiter," AuC 6 (1950), 297-320, especially 305-309.

them to decide to accept Christianity. Almost no information exists regarding the evangelization of Emilia and Romagna, which in the late fifth century belonged to the metropolitan province of Ravenna. Most of the bishops of the sees in this area are not known until the late fourth century. Their bishops tended in part toward Milan, especially so long as Ambrose was alive. Christianity reached Ravenna by way of its port of Classis, which, however, was never the seat of a bishop. In the rural parts of the bishoprics subject to Ravenna the mission hardly got under way to any great extent before the sixth century.

The way into the Val dAosta, to the Valais, and to the Raetian provinces was shown to the Christian mission by the Roman roads, which proceeded all together from Milan. While a bishop is not attested for Aosta (Augusta Praetoria) until the year 451, Bishop Theodore of Octodurum in the Valais took part in the Synods of Aquileia and Milan in 381 and 392-93 respectively; with his name is connected the start of the veneration of Saint Maurice and his companions at Agaunum. After Geneva, which became a see at about the same time as OctodurumЧits first bishop was IsaacЧit is Gallic missionaries, from Lyon, who brought Christianity both into the Jura and to the civitas Helvetiorum, where Christians are demonstrable for the fourth and fifth centuries at Solothurn (cult of Ursus and Victor), Zurich (Felix and Regula), Zurzach (Verena), and AugstЧplaces which belonged to the bishopric of Avenches (Aventicum), which was founded after 400.

The name of a Bishop of Chur, capital of Raetia Prima, first appears in the acts of the Synod of Milan of 451, but c. 370 the missionary Gaudentius had worked in Bergell, south of the Septimer Pass, where, however, the "Raetiarum episcopus" Valentine, who lived around the mid-fifth century and was buried at Mais near Meran, had his seat. Valentine's burial place presupposes the existence of Christians in the

Vintschgau in the fifth century." It is natural to assume it also for the Eisack Valley, even if the local bishopric of S'aben (Sabiona) is first attested for the late sixth century.100 By way of the Via Claudia (the Reschen-Scheideck Pass) the Christian message could arrive at the upper Inn Valley, where now excavations have brought to light church buildings of the fifth and sixth centuries in Pfaffenhofen near Telfs and in Imst.101

The pre-Constantinian community of Augsburg (Augusta Vin- delicorum) grew so rapidly in the fourth and fifth centuries that here too one must reckon with an episcopal see in Roman times, whose existence is, moreover, made clear for the capital of Raetia Secunda. A great complex of former church buildings under the present Sankt Gallus Chapel with a basilica of three aisles and frescoes of a continuous illustra tion of the gospels point clearly to the previous existence of a cathe dral.102 The conjecture that Passau and Regensburg were also episcopal sees at that time is, however, not supported by favorable finds of that extent, even if the Vita Severini presupposes church buildingsЧbasilica and baptisteryЧat Passau and an Early Christian cemeterial basilica could be proved in Regensburg.103 That even in the Roman period Christianity penetrated into the rural parts of Raetia Secunda is shown by the remains of a church that was constructed in the last third of the fourth century on the Lorenzberg near Epfach (Abodiacum, rural dis trict Schongau) and a note in the Vita Severini, according to which the saint came upon a wooden church in Quintanis (Kunzing).104

In comparison with Milan, the missionary activity of Aquileia,105 which was a metropolis as early as the fifth century, left little trace in the sources, but the evangelization of the immediate vicinity, hence of the Istrian Peninsula with the later sees of Trieste, Parenzo, Pola, and

"Eugippius, Vita Severini 40, 1. All suggestionsЧAugsburg, Chur, PassauЧremain hypothetical.

100 A. Sparber, Das Bistum Sabiona (Brixen 1942); id. Kirchengeschichte Tirols (Bozen 1957): Bishop Inguin c. 590.

101

102 On Pfaffenhofen: G. Kaltenhausen Veroffentl Museum Ferdinandeum Innsbruck 44 (1964), 75-98; on Imst: A. Wotschitzky, Ost Zf Kunst Denkmalpfl, 15 (1961), 97-104.

103

104 F. Zoepfl, Das Bistum Augsburg . . . (Augsburg 1955), 1-20; P. Stockmeier, J baltfair KG 23 (1963), 40-76, especially 60-64.

105

106 Vita Severini, 22; M. Heuwieser, Geschichte des Bistums Passau I (Passau 1939); J. Sydow, RivAC 31 (Regensburg 1955), 75-96.

107

108 On Epfach: J. Werner, Neue Ausgrabungen in Deutschland (Berlin 1958), 409-424; on Kunzing (Quintanis): Vita Severini 15, 1.

109

110 Episcopal list of Aquileia: DHGE III, 1114-1118; literature on the rich early Chris tian monuments in C. Andresen, Einfuhrung in die christl. Archaologie (Gottingen 1971), 8 If. On the rights of metropolitans: A. Villotta Rossi, Memorie storiche foroguiliesi 43 (1958-59), 61-143.

111

Pedena, and then of the district of Friuli, with Concordia Sagittaria, Altinum, Treviso, Feltre, and others, probably proceeded from Aguileia. The same influence may be assumed also for Emona (Laibach), farther to the east, since the bishop of this city, Maximus, took part in the Synod of Aquileia of 381. However, paganism was still so self-assured here that as late as 388 its priests dared to greet the Emperor Theodosius in full official robes on the occasion of his passage to Italy. Finally, the fact that the sees of southern Noricum still be longed to the ecclesiastical province of Aquileia indicates early mission ary relations with Aquileia; in the sixth century it was decisively up held by the Metropolitan of that province.

The course of the evangelization of central and southern Italy is far less easily elucidated than that of Upper Italy because of the scanty sources. It is true that at the beginning of the fourth century there were at hand favorable starting-points for the Christian mission in Rome itself and in the communities of some commercial centers, such as Ostia, Terracina, Naples, Syracuse, and Cagliari, but precisely here it made a surprisingly slow advance. In the old imperial capital itself the number of Christians grew steadily throughout the entire fourth century, as the building of new titular churches under Popes Silvester I, Mark, Julius I, Liberius, and Damasus I makes clear, but on the whole Rome long presented the image of a predominantly pagan city, whose highest offi cial, the Praefectus Urbi, did not usually belong to the Christian Church. The sarcastic description of life in the city of Rome c. 3 50 by Ammianus Marcellinus, according to whom interest in the theater and games of chance stood in the foreground and megalomania and ostenta tion had caused the ancient Roman virtues to be forgotten, did ndt regard Christianity as worthy of mention in this context. The pagan religious calendar continued in use, pagan temples were still con structed or restoredЧthe temple of Apollo and that of Liber, of Sil- vanus, and the Porticus of the di consentesЧthe cults of Cybele and Mithras lasted into the 390s, the cult of Isis probably into the fifth century, and only toward the end of the fourth century did the prob lems of recruiting for the pagan priesthoods begin.111 The Christian mission encountered a powerful obstacle in the stubborn and often bellicose rejection of the new religion by the majority of the aristocratic upper class, which was unwilling to sacrifice all that the ancient Roman tradition meant for it, carried out a varied propaganda for it, intervened at the court in Milan, and finally, in cooperation with the usurper Eugene, even tried a decision by battle. Even the defeat thereby suffered did not mean the end of paganism in the city, since the gov ernment as late as the fifth century still took into consideration the susceptibilities of the reduced pagan senatorial aristocracy. However, a noteworthy missionary recruitment must be attributed to some ladies of this circle, who from 380 followed the ascetical movement in Chris tianity and through their activity assisted the upper class to a new under standing of their "Romanness," which now had a Christian basis. Outside Rome also the long persistence of paganism is occasionally noticed, for example, in Ostia, where in 359 the Praefectus Urbi sac rificed to the Gemini, and in Capua, where as late as 387 cult pro cessions were held according to the pagan calendar. As in the North, here too the peasantry could be induced only with difficulty to abandon their ancestral religion. In 409 Honorius took steps against officials because they tolerated pagan cults; Benedict found on Montecassino a shrine of Apollo that was frequented by the people and holy groves in which they sacrificed to demons; and the Bishop of Fundi converted a temple of Apollo into a church as late as the mid-sixth century.

Of the approximately 200 sees which c. 600 are demonstrable for the territory of Italia Suburbicaria, hence also for Sicily, Sardinia, and Cor sica, about half may have existed at the end of the fourth century, since a synod for this area under Pope Siricius in 381 counted some eighty participants; seventy-eight more bishoprics were founded in the fifth century, and the remainder only in the sixth century. Latium and Campania displayed the greatest density of bishoprics, and then came Etruria and Umbria. It decreased to the east and southeast with the distance from Rome; of course, for this the demographic relationship must also be reckoned. A special importance for the evangelization of Campania may be assigned to the community of Naples. A few

.Ђ.VIINIM RT^NVII X UF THE CHURCH

bishoprics from the first half of the fourth century indicate a relatively early christianization of southern Etruria as far as Orvieto and Perugia, but Florence, Lucca, and Pisa also had episcopal congregations early. Except for Spoleto, known from 353-54, the episcopal sees in north western Umbria are demonstrable with certainty only in the fifth and sixth centuries, and also for the sees of neighboring Picenum a sure tradition goes no further back. In the case of the relatively early founding of Benevento at the beginning of the fourth century, Naples would seem to be the starting-point of the mission; however, as late as 375 the Roman Symmachus praises the pagan faction of the city for its receptiveness to the public interests. Just as Syracuse was the entrance-gate for the gospel into Sicily, so it became also the point of departure for the evangelization of the interior, which proceeded rap idly after Constantine. The shepherds of several episcopal com munities stood on Athanasius's side in the confrontation concerning him at the mid-fourth century. Letters from Leo I and Gelasius I were addressed to the entire episcopate of Sicily. In the correspondence of Gregory I the island seems to be entirely Christian, although there was still no episcopal see in the interior. In the course of the fifth century the Christians on Malta received a bishop, as did those of the Liparaean Islands northeast of Messina around 500. In Sardinia the commu nity of the port city of Cagliari was the bearer of the mission to the interior, which at first was concerned with the Roman colonies at Sulci, Forum Trajani, and Turris on the northwest coast. And "bishops of Sardinia" were also mentioned among the supporters of Athanasius, but without precision of number and place-names. However, the north east of the island still showed numerous pagans to the end of the sixth century, and Pope Gregory worked for their conversion. A somewhat slower development must, finally, be assumed for Corsica, whose

1 J N J N 1.1\ 1,11 " I KJM7 ї 1 1J If! Um.l 1 DDIWECI^ l^ll^AC/l AiXl^

bishops Athanasius also mentioned and who, according to Gennadius of Marseille, unanimously approved the Expositio catholicae fidei which Eugene of Carthage had composed in 483. But in the time of Pope Gregory the mission experienced a setback, since some of the converts in the see of AleriaЧthere were in all five seesЧreverted to paganism. The bishop was admonished by the Pope in regard to his missionary duty and received from him material help for his task.

At the beginning of the fourth century a double missionary task was presented to the Church in the North African part of the Roman Empire. One had to do with gaining the adherents of paganism, on the defensive, it is true, in most cities, but nevertheless still influential. Second, the evangelization of the population on the latifundia, espe cially of the western provinces, and of the tribes in the southern frontier district, had to be tackled systematically, if one wished the achievement thus far to continue. The implementation of this task was no doubt aggravated for decades and partly impeded by the long confrontation between the Donatist and the Catholic Churches, which on both sides tied down the best forces, even if both denominations constantly re ceived adherents from paganism. The Catholics had a strong support in parts of the upper class, who enjoyed a great influence in intellectual life, in the administration, or through their economic position. The city of Timgad alone c. 360 still counted forty-seven pagan priests, and in the cities of Calama and Musti they were functioning even later. A pagan temple was erected at Lambaesis under Valentinian I, and the most important pagan cult center of the North African provinces, the magnificent temple of the Dea Caelestis at Carthage, remained opened until the last years of the fourth century. The preaching and corre spondence of Augustine afford a glimpse into the missionary under standing and the day-to-day missionary activity of a North African bishop in the first decades of the fifth century. His preaching goes again and again into the objections of pagans of all classes, who indi cated them as the reason for their rejection of Christianity; they were

ivnooiwi>nRx /I^iiviiit uf 1HK CHURCH

taken very seriously by him when they deserved to be, and he exposed their emptiness when they were accepted cliches. He candidly admit ted that the life of many a Christian meant a no less serious hindrance for the Christian mission than the split of the North African Church into two bitterly warring denominations. Hence he called attention to the missionary duty of every individual Christian to lead his pagan acquain tances to Christ, as formerly the Samaritan woman had done with regard to her fellow townspeople. Augustine also used his contacts by letter with pagans in order to present to the correspondent, whose influence on the peasantry he by no means underestimated,137 in a manner mostly very courteous but in fact resolute, the inner emptiness of the pagan religion and the hopelessness of its current situation.138

The further collapse of North African paganism was hastened by the legislation introduced by Theodosius and continued by Honorius, which here too decreed the closing of the temples, forbade public wor ship, had cult images and statues removed from the temples, and had temple property seized, but did not aim to trouble personally pagans who lived peaceably.139 The often careless execution of these laws in duced the episcopal Synod of Carthage of 401 twice to ask the state officials for a stricter intervention and to destroy the pagan shrines still existing in the countryside, even in remote districts, especially since they were lacking in artistic value. But not until 407 did General Stilicho issue an edict which corresponded to some extent with such desires.140 In consequence of the now increasing State pressure there were bloody encounters between pagans and Christians, as at Sufetula and Calama, where both sides broke the law.141 In 407 the Christians were permitted to make use of the temple of the Dea Caelestis at Carthage, which had been closed earlier, and Bishop Aurelius pointedly had his cathedra located on the place occupied by the statue of the pagan goddess. Some pagans even now still clung to prophecies which prom ised the imminent collapse of the Christian world in North Africa;

eventually all they could do was to hide the images of the gods in caves and ravines and practice their worship underground.142

All too meager are the reports on the Christian mission among the non-Roman population of the frontier zone of North Africa. Augustine knew that even c. 400 there "were numerous tribes in Africa to whom the gospel has not yet been preached;" although he had also heard of conversions of individual members of a tribe. Here, however, he did not intervene personally, but expected their full conversion in the future.143 But there is evidence that evangelization was begun here even before the invasion of the Vandals. The tribe of the Arzuges is repeatedly mentioned; its area of settlement is thought to have been on the south ern frontier area of Byzacena and Numidia.144 For example, a Catholic and a Donatist bishop from the "country of the Arzuges" took part in the religious discussion at Carthage in 411, and in 419 Bishop Aurelius addressed a circular to the bishops in the South, among whom he counted those residing in the mountain ranges of Byzacena and of Arzugitania.145 Archeological discoveries, whose dating, it is true, re mains uncertain, show that the mission had established even rural set tlements in the western provinces of Mauretania Caesariensis and Tin- gitana.146 A vivid example of a spontaneous mission beyond the frontier of Roman territory is handed down by Victor of Vita.147 Four Christian slaves whom the Vandal King Gaiseric had given to a pagan tribal chief tain in the desert of Caprapicti immediately undertook missionary work there and later, through envoys, requested from a bishop in Roman territory a priest who would baptize the newly converted and build a church. Such missionary activity, of course, was not possible during the century of Vandal domination in the area controlled by them. Syste matic missionary work was resumed only after the conquest of North Africa by the Byzantines in 533. There then occurred the conversion of the Gadabitani in the vicinity of Leptis Magna, of the Garamantes in the Fezzan and perhaps of the Maccurites in Mauretania, of which Pro- copius and John of Biclar report.148 The idea seems problematic that the North African Church failed to

142 Augustine, Enarr in ps. 40, 1, 57; in ps. 70, II, 4, 30; Quodvultdeus, De promiss. 3, 44-45 (eyewitness report on the temple of the Dea Caelestis).

143

144 Epp. 199, 46; 93, 24.

145

146 A. Audollent, CRAIBL (1942), 202-215.

147

^ G est a Coll. I, 207 (SChr 195, 894f.); letter of Aurelius: Mansi 4, 447.

146 A. Berthier (ed.), Les vestiges du christianisme antique dans la Numidie centrale (Algiers

1943); R. Thouvenot, "Les origines chretiennes en Mauretanie Tingitane," Rea 71

(1969), 354-378.

l"Hist. pers. Afr. prov. I, 35-37.

148 Procopius, De. aedif. 6, 4, 12; John of Biclar, Chron. min. II, 212 and 512; see Ch. Diehl, L'Afrique byzantine (Paris 1898), 327f.

translate the Bible and the liturgy into the Berber and/or the Phoenician language and by making use of elements of the native culture to create a North African national Church, which would then have survived the domination of Islam. Apart from the still open linguistic questions about the state of development of Phoenician at this time, it is notewor thy that even the Donatists and the equally active evangelizing Man- ichaeans for their part made no such attempt. It seems rather that at the climax of the Christian mission the Latin provincial culture was ea gerly accepted by the inhabitants together with Christianity. For the development of an indigenous Christianity a greater time-span would probably have been required than was at the disposal of the Christian mission up to the Vandal invasion.

In the history of the evangelization of Gaul the fourth century presents especially the phase in which Christianity established itself, in a virtually uninterrupted growth, in most cities of the Gallic provinces. At the first council on Gallic soil, the Synod of Aries in 314, sixteen Gallic sees were represented, and the existence at this period of ten others can be accepted with some certainty. The larger number of these bishoprics was in southern Gaul, where from the pre-Constantinian center, Lyon, a mission route upward through the Rhone Valley to the Rhine and into Belgica was marked off. Scarcely thirty years later Athanasius counted thirty-four Gallic bishops as his adherents, from the mid-century the bishoprics increased rapidly in the West and Northwest, and about a hundred years after the Synod of Aries there were episcopal congregations in almost all the more than 100 civitates of Gaul, mostly in the principal localities. This means that in all these cities a considerable part of the inhabitants professed the Christian faith. Since the metropolitan organization also established itself in the first decades of the fifth century, the basic ecclesiastical constitution of Gaul was complete soon after 390. By whom and with what methods this urban evangelization occurred in each case escapes us to a great extent.

The christianization of the peasantry of Gaul, on the other hand, began for the most part only in the last decades of the fourth century and reached its climax only in the fifth century. Since it was, first of all, the duty of the bishop in the territory of a civitas, for a time it remained dependent on the rise of the individual see, and practically and in its efficacy on the initiative of its leader, so that in a glance at the whole of Gaul one must reckon with a very much differentiated process. Except for a few allusions to a rural mission in the early period, the sources mention Martin of Tours (d. 397) and Victricius of Rouen (d. c. 407) as the first bishops who devoted themselves systematically to the mission in the countryside, pushing on, each in his own bishopric and occasion ally beyond its boundaries. According to the report of Sulpicius Severus on Martin's work for the conversio paganorum, certainly literary and hagiographical in composition, the peasants of the middle Loire at that time lived totally in the ancestral world of their Celtic and slightly Romanized customs of field-processions, and of the cult of trees and springs, with the unpretentious shrines which at first they staunchly defended when the bishop of the Christians wanted to prove by word and deed the powerlessness of their gods. After the often forcible destruction of their shrines, at times a rather large part of the population was converted to the mightier God of the Christians, and then Martin erected in their vicus a chapel or small monastery in place of the previ ous small pagan temple in the field; he also appointed clerics for the further care of the new converts and hence called into being the first cells of Christian worship in the countryside. When Paulinus of Nola compared the somewhat younger Victricius to the Bishop of Tours, he was including in this high praise also his missionary work, which ex tended beyond his see of Rouen northward into the territory of the Nervii and Morini to the channel coast, which had still scarcely been touched by Christianity. He also established churches and monasteries in larger places (ioppida), on islands, and in remote forest districts. What

Gregory of Tours reported of his contemporary, Bishop Simplicius of Autun, recalls Martin's missionary method. Simplicius too intervened to stop a procession of farmers in the land of the Aedui, who were carrying a statue of Cybele Berecynthia through their fields and vineyards. He too gained some for Christianity.159 At times churches arose outside the cities also, in Roman camps, for example, at Carcassonne and Uzes in Narbonnensis and in Arlon in Belgica Prima, which then became ecclesiastical meeting-places for the people of the vicinity. The mission in the countryside experienced a powerful advance also from Christian landowners, for example, from Paulinus of Nola and Sulpicius Severus, who had chapels and oratories erected on their land and, often encour aged in this by the bishops, also exerted themselves for the conversion of their peasants. Such churches on a villa are demonstrable as espe cially numerous in southern Gaul for the fifth and sixth centuries, since the Arian Burgundians and Visigoths for the most part respected the Catholics' freedom of worship. Synodal legislation concerned itself to an ever greater extent with this development, reserved to the bishops the supervision of the clergy in these at first private churches, but conceded the population of the vicinity attendance at Mass in them, except on the solemnities of the Church year. From such starts grew many of the later parishes.160 And for the Gallic rural mission the saying of Augustine was pertinent: that it was an especially difficult task to vanquish paganism in the hearts of new converts.161 Christian preaching and synods had the opportunity, even far into the sixth century, to wrestle with a tenacious holding on to pagan custom.162

The course of the evangelization of the Iberian Peninsula163 in the fourth and fifth centuries can be determined only in the barest outlines. The lists of participants in the Synods of Elvira (between 306 and 314) and Aries (314) and some further indications make clear that at the beginning of Constantine's sole rule Christianity had its center of grav ity in Baetica and southern Tarraconensis, since the majority of the Spanish members of the synods came from some forty places situated in these provinces.164 The decrees of Elvira, moreover, give acquaintance

159 Gregory of Tours, In gloria confessorum 76.

160

161 E. Grife, III, 260-298; Visitation by bishops: Sulpicius Severus, Ep. 1, 10; Sidonius Apollinaris, Ep. 9, 16.

162

163 Augustine, Enarr. in ps. 80, 14: magnum opus est intus haec idola frangere.

164

165 Cf., for example, Caesarius of Aries, Serm. 13, 14, 53-55. Canon 2 of the so-called Council of Aries II (c. 442-508) threatened sanctions against a bishop who did not energetically intervene against such abuses.

166

167 J. F. Alonso, "Espagne," DHGE XV, 892-908 (Lit.); Z. Garcia Villada, Historia eclesiastica de Espana I, 2 (Madrid 1929); M. Torres-R. Menendez Pidal, Historia de Espana II (Madrid, 3rd ed. 1962), 447-486.

168

169 See Atlas Zur Kirchengeschichte (Freiburg 1970), Map 4.

with a Christianity which still needed various forms of missionary work for its deepening; apparently there was a definite desire to take up this task. With the flowering of a noteworthy Christian literature, the spread of monasticism, the struggle over Priscillianism, and the interest which Rome showed in the Spanish Church, it becomes understandable that in the course of the century this Church gained in expansion and in inner quality. At the Synods of Zaragoza and Toledo, in 380 and 400 respectively, as well as in the letters of Popes Siricius and Innocent I to Spanish bishops, paganism in fact scarcely plays any role. That the mis sion took the route from the cities on the Spanish east coast into the interior can be determined to a degree from the churches and cemeteries with their sarcophagi, which archeological research could demonstrate above all in the present provinces of Barcelona, Gerona, Tarragona, Valencia, Alicante, and Murcia. Occasionally, inscriptions of the fourth and fifth centuries supply a glimpse of the gradual expan sion of Christianity in the countryside. As in Gaul, so also on the Iberian Peninsula Christian churches on the villae of owners of latifun- dia became of importance for the origin of Christian congregations in the country. The Balearic Islands were affected very early by missionary work, and the majority of their inhabitants professed Christianity be fore the Vandal invasion. However, one must reckon with a very different compactness of evangelization in the individual districts of Spain, especially with a sharp decline from east to west and northwest respectively. That the invasion of the Alans, Vandals, and Sueves at the beginning of the fifth century became a hindrance for an intensive missionary preaching in the affected parts cannot be doubted. Only the almost total lack of synodal activity throughout the fifth century speaks clearly here. Especially in the land of the Basques and in Cantabria can the mission be found first in an initial stage c. 400, since here no bishop rics are demonstrable even for the period of Visigothic rule. Rela tively slight also was the density of sees in the area of the source of the Tajo, west from Toledo, south of the middle Jucar (the present province of Albacete), and in the direction of Lusitania. Hence mission work among the peasants was by no means everywhere completed even in the Visigothic period: Bishops Martin of Braga and Polemius of Astorga were powerfully claimed by it even in the late sixth century, and the majority of the parishes arose only from this time on.

In the political Diocese of Britannia also there existed at the begin ning of the fourth century a certain ecclesiastical organization, as the participation of the Bishops of York, London, Lincoln or Colchester, and perhaps also the representative of a fourth seeЧpossibly CirencesterЧat the Synod of Aries proves. The number of sees con tinued to grow up to the Synod of Rimini (359), but the Christians in Roman Britain long stood in the shadow of paganism, whose shrines in the larger places were still visited till the end of the century, and in the rural areas into the fifth century. Excavations at villae in Lullingstone (Kent) and Hilton St. Mary (Dorset) with their private churches reveal that the Christian religion also found entry into the families of well-to- do landowners. But to what extent the peasants as a whole accepted it cannot be determined. For a consolidation of the Church c. 400 and later, especially in the upper class, we have the witness of lively theolog ical discussions in Britain, which motivated the visit of the Gallic Bishops Victricius of Rouen (c. 395) and Germain of Auxerre (429 and perhaps again c. 445); on this occasion Germain also preached to the Christian peasants. That Christian communities also existed in the western and northern frontier zones of Roman Britain is certain: from them came the two missionaries, Patrick and Ninian, for whom the conversion of the Irish and the Picts became their lifework. In these areas Christianity of a Roman stamp could continue without a break, whereas in the southeast and center of the island it was subjected to serious impediments when c. 450 the still pagan tribes of Jutes, Angles, and Saxons invaded in several waves and made themselves rulers of these territories. From the almost complete silence of the sources for this time, however, one may not infer a total extinction of Christian life in the Anglo-Saxon part of the island.

The presentation thus far makes clear that the evangelization of the peoples of the Empire in the fourth and fifth centuries was by no means a uniformly developing process in all parts of the Empire; hence the usual wholesale judgment that immediately after Constantine's turning to Christianity the pagan masses poured into the Church requires a substantial differentiation. It must first be established that in the mission ary progress of this epoch several waves are apparent. The freedom of worship granted by Constantine first revealed the real situation: the number of Christians had grown so strongly, especially in the second half of the third century, that in some urban congregations larger church buildings were necessary in order to hold the believers who were now able openly to profess their Christianity. After that, especially in the East, an active missionary work had begun, which brought to the Church a steady, though not spectacular, growth. Then, after the defeat of the anti-Emperor Magnentius (351-53), Christianity gained ground considerably in the cities of the western provinces. The failure of the Emperor Julian's effort at restoration introduced the concluding phase in the East, but also promoted the mission in the West, as Hilary of Poitiers emphasizes. Whereas for Chrysostom the end of paganism in the eastern part of the Empire, apart from a few frontier places, was a generally acknowledged fact, Jerome, Gaudentius of Brescia, Maximus of Turin, and others saw the period of the influx of the masses in the West only in the Theodosian age. The striking temporary and occa sionally even qualitative lag in the peasantry of the Balkans, Italy, Gaul, and Spain in comparison to the East must have had an essential cause in the decline of civilization which existed precisely here between East and West, and which, for its part, was again conditioned by the different demographic situation. The greater population density of the eastern provinces with their many cities and their higher cultural level offered the Christian mission in the East the incomparably more favorable pre suppositions also for the rural mission.

Christianity was able at this period to get a foothold also on the other side of the Empire's frontiers, especially among the peoples along its eastern boundary. Jerome was even of the opinion that the moment had already come when the gospel had been proclaimed to all peoples, and Augustine regarded a conversion of the as yet still pagan peoples as possible in the next generation. More important than the all too op timistic estimation of the missionary present and future was the fact that the "Church of the Empire," following the completion of evangelization in the interior, now became more keenly aware than earlier of the duty of evangelizing the "barbarians" also.181

2. Questions of Missionary Method

THE REPRESENTATIVES OF THE MISSIONARY IDEA AND MISSIONARY WORK. More sharply than in the pre-Constantinian epoch the local episcopal church now appeared in focus as the real bearer of the missionary idea and of the day-to-day mission work. The community was and remained the foundation without which the direct goal of the mission could not be realized: to win for the Christian faith the non-Christians living in the district and to confirm them in the new faith after their reception into the ecclesiastical community. In this regard, clergy and laity were under the same obligation, even if they fulfilled it with a differing importance and in distinct roles. On the bishop, as the responsible head of the community, devolved the full direction of mission work, its coordina tion and supervision, and on his initiative or his failure depended to a great extent the quality of the missionary exertions of a community. He and the clergy delegated by him were above all responsible for the organizing and implementation of the catechumenate, and hence the examination and admission of candidates for baptism, the instruction of the catechumens, the solemn baptismal catechesis, and the continued pastoral care of the neophytes.182 In the contemporary situation the total religious life of the congregation had a missionary orientationЧ liturgy, piety, charitable activity, and monasticism had their missionary function within the community. This is true also of the normal preach ing of the faith, which again and again addressed also the non-Christians directly or indirectly and sought their admission to the community of Christians.183 The great importance which belonged to the missionary task of the laity is clear in the extant sermons of the day. Many preachers

181 Jerome, Ep. 107, 2; In Mt 24, 14. Augustine, Epp. 197, 4; 199, 46. Cf. J. Vogt, Kulturwelt und Barbaren (Mainz 1967), 49ff.

182

183 On the catechesis of the catechumenate see chap. 18.

184

185 Especially Chrysostom, Basil, Ambrose, Zeno of Verona, Maximus of Turin, and Augustine. Sermons for an exclusively pagan audience are not extant.

186

enjoined not only the general missionary obligation of the laity: they especially stressed the eminent role of an exemplary conduct for the recruiting impact of the Christian message on the pagans; Chrysostom was especially insistent and precise in this regard. It distressed him that now, since the great majority had converted to ChristianityЧhe is speaking of AntiochЧscarcely any conversions of the pagan minority are to be recorded. But for him it meant that "there would be no more pagans, if we were true Christians." In the East, as in the West, people deplored the lack of missionary zeal among the owners of latifundia, who did not take the pains to get teachers and priests for their workers or want to erect chapels for them, but instead had expensive baths constructed for themselves. Nevertheless, many lay persons must have taken their missionary obligation seriously, for without their help within the community, without that of the unknown merchants, travel ers, officials, soldiers, and sailors who did spontaneous missionary work everywhere in the Empire when an opportunity offered itself, the total effect of the mission would not have been achieved; hence the local episcopal churches essentially supported the missionary work of the "Church of the Empire."

Examples such as that of Martin of Tours and of Victricius of Rouen show that bishops also felt responsible for the mission beyond the bounds of their congregations. More and more the metropolitans and synods and at times the heads of the developing patriarchates attended to missionary duties in the sphere of their competence. Attention has already been directed to the impact of Basil in the East and of Ambrose in the West, likewise to the interest of Juvenal of Jerusalem for the mission among the Arab nomads and the superregional mission activity of Athanasius, who just because of his missionary successes among the pagans was sent into exile by the Emperor Julian. In a unique manner Chrysostom, as Bishop of Constantinople, looked after the mission among the Goths and in Phoenicia: his correspondence with the mis sionaries working thereЧthe priests John, Basil, Nicholas, and the monks Gerontius, Simeon, and MariЧsought to keep their missionary zeal alive. Gifts, which were intended for him in his exile were sent on to them by him. When some missionaries were killed by the local pagans and others were mistreated, he at once sent the priest Rufinus to the mission area and had every possible assistance promised, including new coworkers, if this should be necessary. The missionary initiatives of the Bishop of Rome for his metropolitan area of Italia Suburbicaria may also be assumed, even if they appear in the written sources relatively late. The first mention of the evangelizing work of a Roman Bishop extending to an area remote from his immediate territory occurs under Pope Celestine I, who in 431 sent the former deacon Palladius as missionary bishop to Ireland. But Gregory I was probably the first missionary Pope in the full sense.

Beside the evangelization conducted by the local congregation and the agents of the ecclesiastical provinces there appeared, in increasing measure, the more spontaneous and individual work of monasticism, which became a first-rate mission factor, especially in the eastern part of the Empire and its border areas. In all countries and provinces in which cenobites and hermits had centers, monks appeared as mis sionaries, some in the vicinity of monastery and hermit's cell, others as itinerant preachers. They followed neither a fixed missionary program nor a uniform method, but adapted themselves to the situation of the moment. Sometimes the confidential conversation was preferred, then the mere reading of Scripture with a brief explanation, then again preaching to a village community, and even at times discussion with an educated pagan. That many a one overestimated his abilities in this regard appears from the warnings of Ammonas and Evagrius Ponticus that at first one should prepare in solitude for missionary preaching. Others gained access to the pagans when they defended them against the encroachments of tax collectors or brought them aid in their mate rial needs. Among some monastic missionaries there persisted the incli nation to show themselves as fighters against demons by forcible de struction of pagan shrines, and for this they were not unwilling to ask the aid of state officials. Often the building of a church or the founding of a monastery was intended to help assure the first missionary success. The missionary activity established by the early monasticism of the East was continued with great zeal and notable success by its Nestorian and Monophysite successors.

In contrast to the pre-Constantinian mission, the period treated here knew in increasing measure, therefore, the "full-time missionary"; hence, all lay persons, clerics, and monks who left their home commu nity or monastery to devote years and decades of their life to the con version chiefly of the peasantry of the imperial provinces or of individual tribes beyond the imperial frontiers. They usually selected their own mission field, since no central ecclesiastical mission in the modern sense existed as yet, to train missionaries and set up a well-developed mission plan.

The mission of the fourth and fifth centuries also did not yet make use of a special mission school, although the freedom of preaching offered the possibility for this. The Christianity of the period did not even know any specifically Christian school, but utilized further the educational possibilities at hand. The notion of bringing to the peasantry, for example, also profane knowledge together with the faith did not come within the contemporary missionary's line of vision.

One must not esteem too highly the missionary propaganda effect which proceeded from the Christian contribution to the contemporary literary confrontation between Christian and pagan, since at times only a small minority took part in it. Many a pagan who read a Christian apologist may have been influenced by the argument from the victory of the Christian God over the pagan idols, but the often immoderately triumphalist tone of this literature, as in Lactantius, De mortibus perse- cutorum, its insulting aggressiveness against the worship of the gods, and the intolerance in regard to its adherents, as in the case of Firmicus Maternus, De errore profanarum religionum, must rather have repelled than gained adherents. The later publications on this themeЧone thinks of Theodoret of Cyrrhus, of the Dialogue between Zachaeus and Apollonius, and especially of Augustine's Civitas DeiЧare quite re moved from such a tone, but they did not appear until critical actuality no longer pertained to their view of the contemporary missionary situa tion.

STATE AND MISSION. The attitude of the Emperor Constantine in this question was still basically determined by the conviction that State com pulsion through legal sanctions was to be rejected vis-a-vis non- Christians. Hence he held that only a propaganda for the Christian faith was defensible which respected freedom of conscience and expected the religious unity of the Empire from the power of conviction inherent in the Christian message. Individual measures, such as the prohibition, conditioned by political considerations, of private auspices in 319 or the attack on the cult of Aphrodite at Hierapolis and the closing of the temple of Asclepius at Aegae, let him positively maintain personal tol eration in regard to the conviction of individual pagans. His emphatic favoring of the Church in many areas, of course, makes clear that the Christian mission could be sure of his benevolence.

This relative toleration was abandoned by Constantine's sons, when at the end of 341 by imperial law they forbade pagan sacrifices and when Constantius II, after a temporary mildness, sharpened the pressure on the pagans by two laws of 356, which ordered the closing of the tem ples, forbade all sacrifices, and aimed to punish violations with the death penalty and confiscation of property. Here appeared the determina tion to force paganism out of public life and to promote the christianiza- tion of the Empire with the State's means of powers. The laws may have motivated also the illegal and tumultuous proceedings of individual Christian groups, which in several places of Asia Minor and Syria sacked or destroyed pagan shrines. Of course, the inculcating of the edicts, which soon followed, and a special threat of punishment against indi vidual provincial governors who saw to their execution too laxly showed that their impact did not correspond to expectations. After his visit to Rome in 357, even the Emperor saw himself compelled not to insist any further on their application. To what extent the pressure of con science, produced by it, had actually led to conversions, is not of course ascertainable in the individual, but in the partly serious outrages which under the Emperor Julian again befell the Christians may be recognized a pagan reaction to this pressure. Such experiences with harsh intoler ance could only induce the Emperors Jovian and Valentinian I to re nounce it, thereby gaining much praise from the pagan side; it also accorded to the Christian mission a phase of peaceful work, more con formable to its nature and hence also more successful.

For the last important period of antipagan religious policy the Em peror Theodosius I was mainly responsible, since, after the liquida tion of the Arian confusion, he aimed to bring about the complete religious unity of the Empire by a definitive deprivation of the pagans' rights. The abandonment of the title of Pontifex Maximus, the discon tinuance of State support for specific pagan priesthoods, the rejection of the drive by the still pagan part of the Roman senatorial aristocracy in the struggle over the Ara Victoriae were followed by a series of laws, which consistently and at the same time flexibly pursued the aim of eradicating from the public consciousness the notion that paganism was still a somehow important phenomenon. When the Prefect Cynegius, who was supposed, as the Emperor's agent in the East, to supervise personally the execution of the law on the closing of the temples, went beyond his instructions and allowed some of the shrines to be destroyed, Theodosius gave him a pagan, Tatian, as successor, to appease the wrath of pagan circlesЧdescribed by Libanius in Pro templisЧas he usually appointed members of the pagan upper class to the highest offices of state. But he behaved just as firmly, if a moment or an event seemed especially favorable for antipagan measures. The decrees of 391-92, which represent the climax of the antipagan legislation, since they now also forbade every sort of private pagan worship, must be attributed rather to the Emperor's wish to do penance than to the influence of Ambrose, since Theodosius also took care to act consistently indepen dently also in ecclesiastical political questions. The victory over the usurper Eugene, whom, to their own misfortune, the pagan group at Rome had joined, gave him the welcome possibility of finally accom plishing the deprivation of all of paganism's power. Its fate was now sealed in the awareness of the public: it was clearly felt that paganism no longer presented the State with an internal political problem, its few adherents could still serve it only in isolated esoteric circles or remain left to their popular faith in the country; the still preserved greater pagan monuments had only an artistic character. The antipagan laws of the succeeding Emperors were then mostly only corroborations of those of Theodosius I. If Christian fanatics in locally limited cases still appealed for the aid of the State against stirrings of pagan belief, this was justified with reference to the pertinent laws of Theodosius.

If it remains so difficult to appraise the impact of this antipagan legis lation on the missionary success of the Church in details, so little too can it be doubted that, as a whole, it greatly promoted it. Such aid seemed admissible by it, despite the occasional appearance of scruples, since it came from Christian Emperors. It was noted that, in contrast to the attitude of the pagan political leadership with regard to Christians be fore Constantine, there was no bloody persecution of pagans in which the positive conversion to Christianity by means of a court judgment or torture had been extorted, and it was stressed again and again that conversions without free decision of the will were worthless.

The pagan reaction to the Christian mission of this period and the consequent repressive measures taken by the State offer a complicated picture. It is above all expressed in the literary repudiation of Chris tianity and in the defense of its own religious tradition; it was the resistance of the intellectuals, whose professional and journalistic activ ity was hardly curtailed, because it apparently seemed less dangerous to the State than that of an augur, who at his nocturnal consultation about the future might prophesy the imminent overthrow of an Emperor. The most important representative of this circle in the East was the An- tiochene rhetor Libanius (314-393), who spiritedly deplored the threat to the previous cultural and religious advance, greeted the Emperor Julian as their majestic restorerЧbut he interceded for the Christians persecuted by the latterЧand demanded of Theodosius I an energetic intervention against those who destroyed temples. Himerius and Themistius took a less firm stand for their pagan convictions, and Themistius could even become Prefect of Constantinople and tutor of

Theodosius's son Arcadius. A deep contempt of Christianity again filled Eunapius of Sardes (c. 345-420), who in a collection of Lives of the Sophists drew a picture of those men whose hope was the Emperor Julian, but who after his death could no longer rouse the courage to act, but withdrew into their world of theurgy and mysticism. As late as the fifth century pagan philosophers could still teach and write at Alexandria (Hypatia, Asclepiodotus, and Ammonius) and Athens (Proclus and his successors in the Neoplatonist school, Marinus, Isidore, and Simplicius) without, however, being able to exercise an in fluence threatening to Christianity.

In the West too, persons took up the pen for the preservation of the pagan religious tradition, but especially in Rome they combined this fight with political activity and with a moderate glance at the remaining possibilities. In the pagan senatorial faction at Rome the direct mas sive polemic against Christianity was for the most part avoided: instead, persons were recruited for paganism through the fostering of ancient Roman literature, through translations such as those of the biography of Apollonius of Tyana and of the pseudo-Apuleius Asclepius, in which the antipagan laws of Theodosius were deplored. The ancient Roman priesthoods were zealously fostered, and in them important offices were personally assumed. In the struggle over the Am Victoriae this group was politically active and through Symmachus demanded full freedom of religion for the adherents of paganism. After the victory of Theodosius over the usurper Eugene on the Frigidus in 394, of course, the opposition of the pagan remnant was forced to extreme caution. The author of the Historia Augusta could now recruit for toleration only anonymously and in obscure form. Before him the poet Claudian con cealed from Ausonius his sympathies for pagan literature by a half hearted conversion to Christianity, and Rutilius Namatianus limited himself to a bitter criticism of monasticism. Finally there remained only external behavior and resignation, which in any case dared to ex press itself only in private circles.

At times the Christian mission encountered a longer lasting negative reaction among the peasantry of individual provinces, such as in Upper Egypt and in parts of Syria and North Africa. Here the tenacious cling ing of this stratum of the population to its legacy was occasionally seen in local tumults against Christians, but it was not in a position to or ganize a systematic, widespread resistance.

If one asks about the quality of the total result of Christian evangeli zation in the Late Roman Empire, important deficiencies must not go unnoticed, despite the outstanding accomplishments. Among the suc cesses must be reckoned the gladly given assent and tirelessly accepted missionary duty of the communities, of monasticism, of the professional missionaries, as well as the profound spiritual change in many new Christians, manifested impressively in the intensive participation in the life of a richly developing liturgy, in the surrender to the monastic ideal, in the consolidation of charitable works, and in the brilliant rise of an independent Christian literature. However, the complementary mission ary work after baptism was not everywhere carried out with the neces sary care and intensity, so that a continued growth of pagan custom quite often debased Christian piety in content and form and at times even produced a relapse into paganism. Some conversions were not based on inner conviction but proceeded from a regard for a pro fessional career or under the pressure of State power. The agitated complaints of many pastors and writers on the semichristiani in the com munities here speak a clear language. The quantitatively great and rapid success of the mission had only too often to be paid for with a painful lack of interior quality in the new Christians.

CHRISTIAN MISSION AND JUDAISM. It is a striking characteristic of the mis sion history of the fourth and fifth centuries that the bustling activity of the Christian communities for the gaining of pagans did not display an equally balanced parallel in regard to contemporary Judaism. Constan- tine, it is true, in an edict of 315 to the leadership of the Jewish com munities, threatened with severe penalties such Jews as harassed their former coreligionists in any way: this assumed a certain stream of Jewish converts at this time. Also at Constantinople the example of Constan- tine is said to have induced "many Jews" to embrace Christianity.

1J.-N1-NEH. URC UR INN LNURLIL DC1WCE1V 1NHJ1EA AINU LFLALLCFUIN

But this can refer only to locally limited occurrences, since an Empire- wide movement of conversion among the Jews would have been reported with gratification by Christians such as Eusebius. Those conversions too must not have been very numerous which allegedly followed the appearance of the Cross in Jerusalem under Bishop Cyril or the extraordinary occurrences at the failure of the attempted rebuild ing of the temple by the Emperor Julian. To be sure, into the fifth century in East and West individual Jews always converted to Chris tianity, and Ambrose even speaks once of plurimi ex Judaeis in this context, but in another place he himself gives the correct proportion when he says that there were all too few of the many. Also Chromatius of Aquileia once remarked that one daily witnessed many Jewish conversions, and yet he preached repeatedly in a polemical man ner on the judaica infidelitas. The report of a Bishop Severus, accord ing to whom at the beginning of the fifth century the entire Jewry of the island of MinorcaЧseveral hundredЧhad let themselves be persuaded by miracles worked by the relics of Stephen to embrace Christianity scarcely appeared before the seventh century. More deserving of credence is the account, spread in East and West, that a group of Jews on the island of Crete under the Emperor Theodosius II asked for baptism because they had been deceived by a juggler who appeared as a new Moses. Hence in most cases it was a question of individual conversions, which came about in the normal missionary wayЧthrough contact of individual Christians with Jews. On the Christian side people did not always seem convinced of the sincerity of such a conversion, since hardly ever is it reported that a Jewish Christian was admitted to the clergy. That purely external conversions occasionally happened appears from an edict of the Emperor Honorius, who in 416 granted to baptized Jews a return with impunity to their former faith, whereas as a rule the passage of a Christian to Judaism was strictly punished.

JVUSSHJJNAKY AC 11 VIT Y OF THE CHURCH

It is in accord with the facts just described that in the not inconsider able Christian literature of the period which deals with the relationship of Christianity and Judaism, only rarely can a special interest in an intensive mission to the Jews be established. It is found, for example, with Ambrose, who despite his anti-Jewish theological polemic and his unyielding attitude in the matter of the rebuilding of the synagogue of Callinicum, insisted that the Church send its missionaries also to the Jews and that Jewish converts be given material support, who personally exerted himself for the conversion of a learned Jew, in his sermons addressed the Jews directly, urged them to accept Christianity, and gave directions for their instruction in the catechumenate. A similar at titude is found in Sidonius Apollinaris and especially in Gregory I, who, it is true, was very solicitous for the conversion of the Jews but decidedly condemned every form of compulsion in their regard.

But in the Christianity of the fourth and fifth centuries, more and more the idea imposed itself that a mission to the Jews was ultimately purposeless, because they did not want to convert, in fact, in accord with God's plan of salvation, they could not convert for the time being, since their "hardness of heart," lasting until the end of time, was to attest that through their unbelief in the Messiah the call of the Chosen People to God was lost by them and now the Church of Christ has become the true Israel. It would be too superficial a judgment if one wanted to see in this notion only a theological alibi for the lack of success of a Christian mission to the Jews, since it already belonged in its beginnings to the New Testament and distinguished itself in a longer development until Augustine justified it by the mystery of predestination. This theologi cal explanation of the unconvertibility of Israel was expounded by some Christian writers about a defamation of Judaism, as, for example, by Gregory of Elvira, Augustine, Leo I, and Caesarius of Aries. But in general it was accompanied by a strong animosity, which at times, as in Chrysostom, lost all moderation in tone and in Cyril of Alexandria led to anti-Semitic excesses. The acidity of this polemic had one of its causes in the peculiar power of attraction of the Jewish religion, which again and again induced Christians in East and West to take part in Jewish festival customs, in the observance of the Sabbath, and so forth, and very keenly upset some bishops. A further cause was inherent in the rivalry in which Jewish recruiting of proselytes and Christian mis sion confronted each other in their quest for pagans. Finally, the emotions were again and again charged in daily life by the fiery manner of discussion, in which both sides spared themselves nothing in un speakable charges.

State legislation followed only with hesitations the general estima tion of contemporary Judaism by the majority of Christians and until the last years of the reign of Theodosius I maintained that the Jewish reli gion was not forbidden and also repeatedly condemned the destruction of Jewish synagogues by Christian fanatics. Some laws, which at first aimed to emphasize and assure only the preeminence of Christianity over JudaismЧprohibition of conversion to Jewish belief, of the posses sion of Christian slaves, of mixed marriagesЧwere then followed from the end of the fourth century in growing measure by decrees which also restricted most painfully the freedom of worship and of profession, as well as the standing of the Jews in civil law. They made ready that atmosphere in which Merovingian and Visigothic kings regarded the compulsory baptism of Jews as a permissible means of gaining religious unity within their spheres of authority.

3. The First Contacts of Christianity with the Germans and the Conversion of the Goths

"The Churches established in the [two] Germanies have believed noth ing other and transmitted nothing other than those in the Spanish prov inces or among the Celts, than those in the east or in Egypt, than those in Libya or in the middle of the world." This much quoted sentence from Adversus haereses, composed c. 180-182 by Bishop Irenaeus of Lyon, is the first testimony for the presence of Christianity in the Roman Rhinelands, the provinces of Mainz and Cologne. Even the archeologi- cal testimonies reach no farther up. In the third century Christianity must have gained strength on the Rhine and the Danube, as the reports of the martyrdoms in these provinces indicate. In the second half of the third century the beginnings of an episcopal organization on the wide frontier of the Empire facing the Germans became visible. With this is included a terminus a quo for the first contact of the Germans with the Church.

Christianity appeared to the Germans as an element of late ancient civilization with which they had to come into conflict, and, indeed, in the West at first as one form of religion alongside others. Preeminent in power and fame among the Alemanni kings who in 357 fought the Romans near Strasbourg were Chnodomar and his nephew Serapio. Serapio was originally named Agenarich, but in Gaul he had assumed the cult name Serapio after his initiation into the mysteries of Isis. The Frank Silvanus, in the Roman service, became around the same time a Christian, and in fact a Catholic, since in the West orthodoxy was the dominant form of Christianity. Conversions of German officers to the Christian religion still remained the rare exceptions during the fourth century. Not until the fifth century were the Germans who had risen in the imperial service or their successors converted to Christianity in growing numbers. The successors of Germanic lords who had risen in the imperial senatorial aristocracy also assimilated themselves interiorly to the new faith; for example, the Patricius Merobaudes, who c. 440 founded a monastery in the see of Troyes, or the Comes Arbogast of Trier, whom Auspicius of Toul characterized c. 470 as praefiguratum sacerdotio.

The line between the Germans who had risen in the senatorial aris- INNER LIFE OF THE CHURCH BETWEEN NICAEA AND CHALCEDON

tocracy and the princes of the foederati, who with their people had bound themselves to the Emperor by a foedus, was fluid. But the decision for Christ could not remain a private matter among the federate princes in view of the close fusion of religion with the total life of the people. It also automatically affected the group of people whom the prince gov erned and hence led more or less inevitably to a collective conversion. The earliest testimonies for a mass conversion on the Rhine refer to the Burgundians, who, according to Orosius and Socrates, accepted the Catholic Christianity of the Gallo-Romans after they had settled c. 407 on the left bank of the Rhine. A similar decision may have been made also by groups of Frankish foederati even before the end of the fifth century. The Sueves in Spain became Catholic under Rechiar (448- 451). The confession of Christ probably implied at times also an acknowledgment of Imperium and Emperor: it was a question of a formal act rather than of a real conversion. Thus is explained how the Burgundians and the Sueves without difficulty exchanged Catholic for Arian Christianity when they fell under the influence of the Arian Goths.

Earlier and more enduringly than the Germans on the Rhine did the Goths on the lower Danube and the Black Sea coast come into contact with Christianity. Cappadocian war prisoners, perhaps also anonymous missionaries, were the first agents of the gospel, which at first probably found followers in the lower classes. A Bishop Theophilus of Gothia, who perhaps functioned in the Crimea, signed the acts of the Council of Nicaea in 325. Among the Visigoths the treaty concluded with Constan- tine in 332 may have favored contacts with the Christian religion. Very soon heterodox teachers also appeared. The Mesopotamian sectarian Audaeus worked among the Visigoths during his exile in Scythia (Dob- MISSIONARY ACTIVITY OF THE CHURCH

rudsha). Alongside Audians and Catholics were the Arians, whose de nomination was destined to become the Gothic form of Christianity, not least because of the considerable personality of the Gothic Bishop Ulfilas.

Ulfilas was born c. 311. Through his mother he was a descendant of Cappadocian war prisoners, but his father was probably a Goth. As a cleric-lector he began to translate the Bible into Gothic. He went with a Gothic embassy to the court of Constantine I or of Constantius II. Eusebius of Nicomedia, Bishop of Constantinople from 338, ordained him Bishop of the Goths, perhaps in 341 at the Synod of Antioch. Ulfilas professed the moderate Homoian Arianism of Acacius and as bishop completed his translation of the Scripture. He escaped a first persecution of Christians in 347-348, and the Emperor settled him with his faithful near Nicopolis (Trnovo). Ulfilas died at Constantinople in 381 or 383. The Gothic group that had followed him remained perma nently separated from the main body of their nation and survived in the Balkans as a peaceful tribe of herdsmen.

The persecution of 347-48, like the next one of 369-372, struck at all Gothic Christians, regardless of denomination. The second persecution was related to a new Visigothic-Roman conflict and probably also to a power struggle between the Visigothic Princes Athanarich and Fritigern. At that time both rivals were still pagans, but Fritigern, as the representative of a pro-Roman policy, may already have been lean ing to Christianity. Athanarich at first held his ground in the leadership of his people. The persecution inaugurated by him was at the same time an anti-Roman reaction. The Audians were routed, and their remnant joined the Catholics. A group of Catholic Goths withdrew from the main body and migrated to Thrace.

Athanarich's position was shaken when in 376 the Huns attacked the Visigoths after they had overrun the Ostrogothic Kingdom. Under Fritigern's leadership bands of Visigoths trespassed on the soil of the Empire. At that time Fritigern seems to have embraced the Arian con fession of his patron, the Emperor Valens; his passage was followed by the historically decisive mass conversion of his people to Arianism. The conflict with the imperial administration, in the course of which Fritigern finally led his Visigoths in 378 to victory over the Emperor Valens at Adrianople, made no change in the religious decision. If there were still destined to be anti-Christian excesses even after the treaty with Theodosius in 382, Visigothic paganism thereafter was without significance for the future of the people. Catholic Christianity also now moved to the background. It maintained itself as the popular religion only among the separated groups, such as the "Crimea Goths."

The origin and course of the Gothic mission can be understood only against the background of the Church history of the Greco-Roman East. The power of radiation of Greek Christianity, whose nucleus was Asia Minor, explains the early start of the work of conversion. The various denominations of the East met in missionary territory. The Goths accepted the diluted Homoian Arianism, which in the decisive moment of history was the denomination of the Eastern Emperor and of the court of Constantinople. Ulfilas's creed corresponded to the formula of Rimini (359), which for its part was based on the formulas of Sirmium (359) and Antioch (341). The Gothic Church also borrowed from the Church of the Empire the episcopal organization. The national liturgical language grew out of the needs of the mission: an important achievement of Ulfilas, but against the background of the relations of the East, where, in addition to Greek and Latin, there were also a Syriac and a Coptic liturgical language, it was nothing revolutionary. Ulfilas's transla tion of the Bible obtained the full recognition of the Church Fathers Jerome and John Chrysostom.

A deeper understanding of the controversies which occupied the theologians of the East in the fourth century may be presumed in any event in Ulfilas, but not in the new converts. It is extremely doubtful whether the Homoian Arianism better corresponded to definite Ger manic ideas than did Catholic orthodoxy. The Goths did not choose the appealing Christian profession after a critical examination; they ac cepted the form of Christianity which Constantinople offered them. That, just the same, a Gothic national Church arose is explained by a rare coincidence: the death of the Emperor Valens on the battlefield of Adrianople sealed the fate of Arianism within the Empire. The Gothic Homoians were thereafter separated from the Church of the Empire by a deep ditch.

The isolated Gothic Church preserved the Homoian body of reli gious beliefs essentially unchanged. The Gothic theologians of the fifth and sixth centuries lacked originality. They fell to a certain degree under the influence of Romania when in the fifth century the Goths moved from the eastern to the western half of the Empire. Ulfilas's

Bible was sporadically revised with a view to the Latin Bible, and there seem also to have been bilingual Gothic-Latin Bibles.

Except for the translation of the Bible and the liturgical language, it is possible to speak of a germanization at the earliest in the area of the ecclesiastical organization. The ecclesiastical classifications which could not be modeled on the urban districts had to conform to the organiza tion of the people or of the armyЧhundreds, five-hundreds, thousands. Gothic Arianism early gave a place to the proprietary church system, perhaps under the influence of a Germanic proprietary temple system. Monasticism was not admitted or in any case played no substantial role. Certain modifications of the ecclesiastical constitution in the sense of an assimilation to the Roman civitas organization and the organization of the Church of the Empire occurred after the settlement of the East Germans in the western half of the Empire but cannot be understood exactly. Annual synods of the Arian clergy at Geneva are attested for the Burgundians. Only the Vandals, as imitatores imperii, established an Arian patriarchate.

At first the Gothic Church clung purposely to the universalism of the old Church and, like it, claimed alone to represent the true doctrine. But when the East Germans founded their kingdoms in the western provinces of the Empire it appeared that a missionary Arianism could only imperil the inner peace of the kingdoms. While the Vandals did not shrink from establishing Arianism as the religion of their kingdom, the Goths and the other Arian peoples accustomed themselves to re gard their Church as a national institution while renouncing missionary exertions in regard to the Romans. Hence the "tolerance" relating to Catholic Romania was conditioned by a special political situation and finally led to stagnation.

The renunciation of missionary work, of course, was limited to Catholic Romania and did not extend to the Germanic and Iranian peoples. For the "Gothic religion" were won the Ostrogoths, Gepids, Vandals, Alans, Rugii, Heruli, and Sciri, and temporarily the Burgun dians, Spanish Suevi, and Lombards. Further particulars of this Arian mission are unknown. Its chief representatives in the first phase must have been the Little Goths of the Balkans. The Asdingian Vandals had certainly been won c. 400, since they transmitted Arianism to the Silin- gian Vandals on the Main and the Alans, who with them crossed the Rhine at the end of 406. The Ostrogoths probably accepted Ulfilas's

Christianity even before their migration to Pannonia in 455. At the same time the Gepids, another Gothic clan, must have become Arians. The Gepids certainly passed on their Christianity to the Rugii, the Sciri, and the Heruli, with whom they were politically united under Attilas rule, then through their common struggle for freedom against the Huns in 454 and their common opposition to the Ostrogoths. The Arianism of Ulfilas seems to have reached even the Thuringians and Bavarians.251 Latecomers were the Heruli and especially the Lombards, who after long hesitation probably only made their decision shortly before their invasion of Italy in 568, perhaps with a view to the Ostrogoths remain ing in Italy.

Gradually Arianism established itself among all the Germans of the Danube: its area of expansion corresponded to a culture province de fined by the Goths. It remained foreign to the Germans on the Rhine; however, the Goths finally carried it also to the peoples who migrated to Gaul and Spain, among whom now the Arian Gothic influence came into conflict with the Roman Catholic environment. The Burgundians, for example, who in a close alliance with the Visigoths (c. 451-471) obtained a new royal dynasty of Gothic blood, converted to Arianism. And the Sueves of Spain became Arians under the influence of their partners after they had concluded an alliance with the Visigoths c. 464. Ostrogothic emissaries were active at the Frankish court in an effort to introduce Arianism, and not without success until Clovis's decision cut the ground from under them. Among the Burgundians and the Spanish Sueves Arianism never sank roots so deeply as among the Goths, Van dals, and Danube Germans.

251 On this controverted question: E. Klebel, "Zur Gesch. des Christentums in Bayern vor Bonifatius," Gedenkgabe zum 1200. Todestag (Fulda 1954), 388-411; also, F. Prinz, Fruhes Monchtum im Frankenreich (Munich-Vienna 1965), 337, footnote 48, pp. 345ff., 358, footnote 100. On the basis of purely linguistic arguments Scardigli accepts a Gothic mediation to the other Germans (Conversione, 84-86).

CHAPTER 14

The Building of the Organization of the Church of the Empire

The Local Episcopal Church

The rapid progress of evangelization of the population of the Empire after the Church obtained freedom led to a strong increase in the num ber of Christian congregations, which, as previously, continued to be

.n ur irtfc EMPIRE

local churches governed by a single bishop. The ordination of a succes sor even in the lifetime of the present bishop was, therefore, as in the case of Augustine, regarded as an illicit deviation from the norm.1 Whereas in the East the word paroichia established itself for the local church, the terminology in the West long remained unsettled: here, in addition to paroecia, ecclesia, territorium, fines episcopatus, and dioecesis were also used.2 The decision as to the necessity or opportunity for establishing new local churches lay usually with the bishops of an ecclesiastical province. The weightiest prerequisite for the new founda tion was a sufficient number of faithful: the Council of Chalcedon ex pressly related it to the rise of new cities; the faithful in hamlets and on farms were to be cared for by itinerant pastors who belonged to the clergy of the urban community.3 And so areas with many cities had correspondingly high numbers of bishoprics of no great extent in size, while in areas of few cities their territorium was substantially larger. Hence in the Latin West the first type was especially characteristic of North Africa and of central and southern Italy, the second of Upper Italy, large parts of Gaul, of Spain and the Danubian and Balkan prov inces.4 Ordinarily the episcopal boundaries coincided with the civil administrative boundaries of the cities, but numerous deviations and quarrels over jurisdiction between neighboring bishops show that no strictly obligatory law existed on this matter. Hence there were also episcopal congregations in settlements which had no city rights, in addi tion to bishoprics within whose territory lay two or more cities.5 Great exertions were required to establish the principle which restricted the bishop in the exercise of his functions to the territory of his own local church. Again and again synodal decrees had to enjoin that no bishop could ordain in another bishopric without the consent of the head of the ecclesiastical province or ordain a candidate who was subject to another bishop.6 In the West the Bishop of Rome did not regularly intervene in the erecting of new local churches, but restricted himself to the warning to observe the relevant synodal decisions. The African episcopate de cided in complete independence the various problems which occurred

1 Cf. Paulinus of Nola, Ep. 7,2; Augustine, Ep. 213, 4, besides Eusebius, HE 6, 11, 1-3, and Theodoret, HE 2, 17, 4-7.

3 Examples of paroichia; Patristic Greek Lexikon s.v. II D; the Latin terms indicated in A. Scheuermann, op. cit., 1059ff. Dioecesis as the term for the local church is not found until the beginning of the fifth century.

5 Council of Serdica, can. 6; Council of Chalcedon, can. 17.

7 J. Gaudemet, op. cit., 324f.

9 For Italy see S. Mochi Onory, Vescovi e citta (Bologna 1933); for Gaul, E. Griffe, La Gaule chretienne II (Paris 2nd ed. 1966), 125-133.

11 J. Gaudemet, op. cit., 328

12.1

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at the incorporation of Donatist local churches into the Catholic Church. In the East, on the other hand, the State power was quite often appealed to in cases of conflict or acted on its own.

The connection of a bishop with a local church bound him to perma nent residence in his community, from which he was to be absent only for serious reasons and ordinarily no longer than three weeks. This duty of residence was often disregarded, especially in the fourth century, because of the inclination of some bishops to be present personally at the imperial court in order to request material aid for their community and also at times personal privileges. Hence synods forbade these jour neys or made them dependent on a written permission from the met ropolitan. The unlimited duty of caring for his community also justified the prohibition to transfer a bishop to another see, which was motivated by patristic theology with the idea of a mystical marriage between bishop and local church, to be terminated only by death. In the course of the fourth century this prohibition, despite strict sanctions such as deposition and excommunication, was again and again disregarded and especially in the East often led to serious conflicts. From the beginning of the fifth century there appeared an easing of the prohibition, since reasons for exceptions were recognizedЧrejection of a new bishop by the community, prohibition of entering upon the office by the secular power, pastoral necessity.8 The provincial synod had to consider whether deposition was to be decreed because of serious lapses, but against its verdict the one concerned had the right of appeal to Rome, which inquired whether the case was to be taken up at another synod. In the East, on the other hand, at times the Emperor, on his own initiative, decreed the deposition of a bishop.9

The growing number of faithful in the city congregations and the success of the mission among the peasantry introduced, from the fourth century on, certain new features into the structure of the episcopal local church. In larger cities, such as Alexandria, Antioch, Rome, Carthage, and Milan, in addition to the cathedral, other churches became neces sary in thickly populated urban areas. In Rome this led to the construct ing of the so-called titular churches, to which members of the clergy of the city of Rome were assigned for the care of souls in these areas. However, these tituli remained parts of the one Roman local church; their clerics belonged, furthermore, to the presbyterium of the Roman community, whose unity was stressed by the liturgy celebrated by the

Roman Bishop in the titular churches by turns. In the Greek East there developed for the care of the peasants belonging to a local church the institute of the chorepiscopus, with which the first synods of the fourth century, such as those of Ancyra, Neocaesarea, and Nicaea, concerned themselves. Their regulations consistently emphasize the full dependence of the chorepiscopus on the real head of the community, who alone defined the sphere of his functions. The so-called Synod of Laodicea (collection of canons c. 343-381) forbade any further ordina tion of chorepiscopi and intended to replace them with itinerant pastors, while the Synod of Seleucia-Ctesiphon permitted only one chorepiscopus for a community. As yet the West had not received the institute of the chorepiscopus. In the often quite extensive bishoprics of Gaul and North Italy special pastoral stations were erected in the rural settle ments far removed from the cathedral, and these for their part rep resented a liturgical center for the inhabitants of the smaller villages and farms of the vicinity. Such subordinate places were, it is true, not parishes in the full sense of the word, since they did not yet administer their own church property, and the clergy working there had no real jurisdiction for an exactly defined territory, but the development to ward the later parish was foreshadowed.

The Metropolitan Union

As early as the late second century initial movements toward a spatial organization within the Universal Church were clear: these would go beyond the episcopal local church. Various rules of the Council of Nicaea now show that out of these starts there developed a clearly organized structure of differing sizes. One of these consisted of the gathering of all local churches of one civil province into a union, which in the lands of Greek speech was called eparchia, in those of Latin speech provincia. But this development by no means proceeded uni formly in the entire range of the distribution of Christianity, as regards either time or the causes which determined it.

The Council of Nicaea took for granted the fully developed ecclesias tical province or metropolitan union in the East when it ruled that the ordination of a bishop should be performed, so far as possible, by all the bishops of a province, and the confirmation of his election should come from the "metropolitan." The very title metropolitan indicates that this chief of an ecclesiastical province had his seat in the metropolis, the capital of the civil province. Here too the boundaries of the ecclesiasti cal and of the corresponding civil sphere of administration generally coincided. The synods of the fourth and fifth centuries determined rights of the metropolitan in more detail: He led the episcopal synod of the province, which should meet twice a year, in discussing and deciding questions of more than local importance. Thus there belonged to the metropolitan a certain function of control over the religious and ecclesiastical life within the province and over the performance of their duties by the bishops, who had to obtain from him written permission, the so-called litterae-formatae, for an absence of any length from their see.14 The Synod of Antioch in 341 stressed on the one hand that the local bishop was independent in his administration of his see, but on the other hand it called attention to the fact that the metropolitan was responsible for the care of the ecclesiastical province and without his consent and that of the other bishops he could not undertake anything that went beyond this.15 Here it became clear that an adjustment be tween the claims of the local bishop and the measures to be decided collegially by the provincial synod was not always easy to achieve.

The metropolitan organization established itself first and extensively in the Greek East, except for Egypt, which quite early showed a large area in which all bishops of the country as well as of Libya and the Pentapolis were apparently directly subject to the Bishop of Alexandria without the intermediate stage of the metropolitan. In the Latin West the development was still less uniform. In North Africa16 it exhibited certain differences quite early, in so far as the rank of metropolitan, who was here called primate, sometimes belonged to the senior bishop of the province according to the date of his ordination, thus he did not have to have his seat in the provincial capital. Besides, a special position pertained to the Bishop of Carthage, who was always Primate of the Provincia Proconsularis, and, in addition, as Primas totius Africae sum moned and directed the African plenary councils, which possessed spe cial authority. On the other hand, the metropolitan organization did not exist at all in the area of the civil Diocese of Italia Suburbicaria with ten provinces and the islands of Sicily and Corsica, whose relatively numer ous local bishops were directly subject to the Bishop of Rome and so always appeared at the Roman synods. In Upper Italy the Bishop of Milan17 first appeared as metropolitan of an ecclesiastical province

"J. Gaudemet, op. cit., 381.

15 Council of Antioch, can. 9-

17 G. Bardy, "Afrique," DDC I, 293-307.

19 P. Batiffol, Cathedra Petri (Paris 1938), 41-54.

which comprised several civil provinces. This was first connected with the importance of Milan in the civil sphere, which it had gained as imperial residence since Diocletian and as seat of the vicar for the administration of Italia Annonaria, and then with the demographic situ ation of Upper Italy, which had far fewer cities than the South and the district around Rome. Likewise, the small number of cities in the prov inces of Venetia, Istria, Raetia, and Noricum enabled the Bishop of Aquileia from c. 425 to become the sole metropolitan of this extensive territory. In neighboring Pannonia a de facto preeminence belonged to the Bishop of Sirmium, which from time to time was the imperial residence and seat of a Praefectus Praetorio. But the development to a full metropolitan constitution here was at first impeded by the wander ing of the peoples. In the other political dioceses of the Balkans it could be fully establishedЧin Thrace from the start, because here the practice of the Eastern Church always prevailed, and in Dacia since it belonged to the eastern part of the Empire (395). In Gaul, on the other hand, the assimilation of the ecclesiastical organization to the civil administra tive spheres is clear. With some divergences, from the late fourth cen tury the provincial capitals of Gaul became also the seats of the met ropolitan. Thus the Metropolitan of Narbonensis Prima resided in the provincial capital, Narbonne, but when the city of Aries was designated after 392 as seat of the Prefecture of Gaul, the Bishop of Aries at once claimed the metropolitan dignity. For Spain in the fourth century there are no clear statements in the sources on the organizational devel opment of the Church there. The Council of Elvira at the beginning of the century, at which met nineteen bishops, mostly from the south of the country, knew, it is true, a prima cathedra episcopatus, by which, however, the see of the senior bishop is to be understood at first, but metropolitan authority was not attributed to him. Only after the middle of the fifth century was the metropolitan organization found in Spain in particular features. The special situation of the Spanish Church under Visigothic rule induced its episcopate to lean more powerfully on Rome and to receive its canonical rules from there. It was not until the sixth century that the great age of the Spanish provincial synods began.

Also in the case of the ecclesiastical provinces did the boundaries in most cases coincide with those of the corresponding unit of civil admin istration, but Innocent I expressly insisted that a new arrangement of the civil provinces in Syria must not include a revision of the ecclesiasti cal organization. When, on his own initiative, the Emperor Theodosius II made Beirut an ecclesiastical metropolis and assigned to it six local churches of the province of Tyre as it then existed, this led to a protracted struggle with which even the Council of Chalcedon had to deal. It rejected the imperial measure and thereby claimed for itself competence for such decisions.

Superior Organization of the Greater Churches

Finally, the Council of Nicaea also knew a form of classification of churches on a still larger scale, in which all the local churches of a quite extensive geographical area or unit of administration larger than the civil province were combined under the bishop of the most important city of this area. Canon 6 of the Council specified three of these struc tures: To the Bishop of Alexandria was acknowledged the ancient "cus tomary right" which gave him the supremacy over all the local churches of Egypt, Libya, and the Pentapolis; the same "custom" held for the Bishop of Rome; and the privileges of Antioch were to be similarly maintained. In the last two cases, it is true, there was no delimitation of the geographical area within which the full authority of the Bishop of Rome or of Antioch was valid, just as the vague formulation in regard to the "privileges" of Antioch is noteworthy. But the context of the canon makes clear that in both cases there was question of a form of organiza tion which extended far beyond the framework of a metropolitan union, but for which as yet no special designation had been found. In the discussion of the content of canon 6, the position of the Bishop of Jerusalem also played a role. Out of consideration for the ecclesiastical past of his city a "position of honor" was awarded to him, but his subordination to the Metropolitan of Caesarea in Palestine was ex pressly stressed. By its canon 6 the Council of Nicaea basically recog nized the classifications of the greater churches that were later termed "patriarchates."

Their development was completed in a rather lengthy process, whose course was determined by several factors. In the first place, both chronologically and in accord with their internal importance, the geopolitical and economic importance of the three cities, Alexandria, Antioch, and Rome, must be named: their local bishops became the leaders of these great ecclesiastical classifications. This factor had al ready to a certain degree determined the route of the early Christian mission, when the first missionaries sought to gain a foothold precisely in the great political centers of the Mediterranean world and in the congregations founded there gained the bases for mission work in the territory dependent on these cities.25 The consciousness, spontaneously springing from missionary relationships, of the solidarity of the congre gations of Syria, Egypt, and central and southern Italy further promoted their organizational merger into greater unions. This assimilation of the ecclesiastical organization to the existing administrative division of the Empire, which presented itself virtually without alternative, was even the sole and unrestricted justification for the erecting of the fourth patriarchate, that of Constantinople, when the Synod of 381 conferred on the bishop of the eastern imperial capital his new rank, "because his city is the New Rome."26 Later alterations in the organization of the political spheres did not, of course, automatically involve corresponding changes of the ecclesiastical structure. When, through Diocletian's re form of the Empire, the previous administrative independence of Egypt was annulled and the country was incorporated into the political Dio cese of Oriens, subject to the vicar at Antioch, no one at Nicaea at tacked the established ecclesiastical organization of Egypt.27

The development of the patriarchates was influenced by still another factor, which pertained to the popular and hence to the linguistic and cultural individuality of the inhabitants of those territories in which the greater Church classifications arose. This factor not only contributed to the origin of one patriarchate each in the Egyptian and Syrian cultural areas: it was likewise one of the causes why both in the properly Greek-speaking sphere and in the Latin area only one great patriarchate each was established, even though here several political dioceses existed as extensive units of administration. Initiatives toward several supra- metropolitan groupings were, it is true, also present here, as the Council of 381 testifies in addressing the respective episcopates of the Dioceses of Asia, Pontus, and Thrace as a unit.28 But the further development to independent ecclesiastical organizational spheres with the centers at Ephesus, Caesarea, and Heraclea was thwarted at Chalce- don, which in canon 28 subordinated these territories to the see of Constantinople. When the Council called the bishops of the cities men tioned "exarchs" and recognized them as appeal courts for conflicts between the local bishop and the metropolitan, a remnant of this

" isee vol. I, 100-105, 207-209, and F. Dvornik, The Idea of Apostolicity, 4f.

26 Council of Constantinople I, can. 3.

28 F. Dvornik, op. cit., 9f. Between 380 and 382 Egypt became again an independent administrative area.

30 Council of Constantinople I, can. 2.

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aborted development could have been reflected. In the territory of the single Latin patriarchate an effort in the direction of a larger member Church of a certain autonomy is known only for Africa, where the Bishop of Carthage, as Primas totius Africae and president of the North African plenary council, functioned in a certain sense as the supramet- ropolitan. For this development both the political and cultural impor tance of Carthage and its position as mission basis for the evangelization of the North African provinces must be taken into account. The Vandal invasion prepared the end of this relative autonomy of the North Afri can Church and occasioned its close union with Rome. The Latin vi cariates of Thessalonica and Aries disappeared here just as did the "Pa triarchate" of Aquileia, since their heads exercised their authority, often only for a brief period, by direct commission from Rome, or, like the Bishop of Aquileia as well as those of Milan and Ravenna, were ulti mately only metropolitans of an extensive ecclesiastical province.

The special political circumstances under which Christians lived in Armenia and Persia caused, also outside the frontiers of the Empire, the rise of two large ecclesiastical structures, which in their organization must be equated de facto with the eastern patriarchates. The Armenian Church in the first decades of its existence maintained close relations with Caesarea in Cappadocia, where Gregory the Illuminator accepted Christianity and then preached it to the nation. The common conversion of King Trdat and of the majority of the nation early favored the devel opment of a national Church under a chief bishop of its own, who from the fifth century was called the Catholicus. The heavy pressure exerted on the Armenian kings by their powerful Persian neighbors motivated them to relax the ties of their Church with the "West" more and more, and the irresistibly progressing subjugation of Armenia by the Persians almost completely curtailed the contacts with Western Christianity just at the time of the great councils of the fifth century. Hence the defini tive separation and independence of the Armenian Church was not the result of its own exertions but the consequences of political events to which the Armenian people were subjected. In Persia the beginnings of a leading role of the Bishop of Seleucia-Ctesiphon probably go back to the fourth century. The Synod of 410 under Bishop Isaac awarded him jurisdiction over the Persian episcopate: the Synod of 424 con firmed and further defined his position as independent of every other ecclesiastical authority.

For the development and rights of the patriarchates of the East there was adduced relatively late a further factor, which was destined to gain considerable importance eventually: the apostolic origin of the leading episcopal sees or the Petrine principle of the founding of churches. At the Council of Nicaea its significance was still so slight that it gained for the Bishop of Jerusalem, as already mentioned, only a "position of honor." Bishop Cyril (c. 348-386) had struggled to no purpose for an elevation in rank, with appeal to the apostolic character of his throne, and with just as little success was his successor, John (386-417), able to separate himself from the metropolitan union of Caesarea. Only the tenacity and adaptability of Bishop Juvenal (422-458) succeeded, after a first ineffectual attempt at Ephesus in 431, in obtaining at the Council of Chalcedon in 451 the recognition of Jerusalem as a patriarchal see and jurisdiction over all Palestine; in this the essence of his argumenta tion was precisely the apostolic foundation of the Jerusalem community, which, was, moreover, distinguished as the site of the resurrection of Christ. Whereas Pope Leo I at first sharply censured Juvenal's proce dure at EphesusЧhe must at that time have made use of unauthentic documentsЧin his later correspondence with Juvenal he passed over the opportunity in silence.

The principle of apostolic origin also played a role in the protracted conflict between the patriarchate of Antioch and the episcopate of the island of Cyprus in regard to its ecclesiastical independence. The bishops of Antioch apparently concluded from the privileges confirmed at Nicaea and from the political membership of the island in the Diocese of Oriens its subordination to Antioch. Thus Bishop Alexander, who induced Pope Innocent I (402-417) to write to the Cypriots to ad monish them to observe the canons, and also John of Antioch (420- 441) urged the right of their see to ordain the metropolitan of the island, but the Council of Ephesus decided to maintain the previous custom whereby the bishops of the island ordained their newly elected metropolitan. When c. 488 the Patriarch Peter repeatedly demanded the subordination of Cyprus, referring to the fact that the island re ceived the faith from Antioch, an apostolic foundation, the Cypriot bishops could outdo this argument. The discovery of the alleged tomb of the Apostle Barnabas in 488 proved unambiguously the apostolic origin and hence the equality of rank of the Cypriot Church with the Antiochene. The Emperor Zeno thereupon assured for the island, with a series of distinctions for the archbishop, the definitive independence later called autocephaly.38

Rome most effectively represented the principle of the apostolic ori gin of the patriarchal see as the basis of the higher organization of the greater churches. Even if in the pre-Constantinian period the political importance of Rome may also have had a certain influence on its ecclesiastical ascent, in the corresponding expressions of its bishops this played as little a role as in other writers before Chalcedon.39 When the political rank of Constantinople was urged as the motive for the estab lishing of a higher rank for its bishop, again and again recourse was had against this "political" argumentation, first by Pope Damasus, who would admit only the really "Petrine" sees of Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch,40 through Boniface I, who protested against an edict of Theodosius II in 421 which granted to Constantinople the privileges of Old Rome, down to Leo I and especially Gelasius I, who found in the Petrine Principle of the founding of churches not only the strongest weapon against the claims of Constantinople, but because of the unique relation of the Apostle Peter to the Roman community regarded them selves as justified in understanding Rome in an entirely specific sense as the Secies Apostolica and themselves as the heirs of Peter's privileges. It speaks in favor of the strength of the notion of apostolicity that it even exerted its impact on Byzantium. From the seventh century on, the see of Constantinople was increasingly called "apostolic," in the beginning perhaps as a consequence of the discussion of the title of "Ecumenical Patriarch," and then it was reinforced in the course of the Iconoclast quarrel. In the ninth century the apostolic character of the see of Con stantinople was further supported by the thesis that it was the heir of

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Ephesus and hence of the Apostle John, and then by the connection with the legend of the Apostle Andrew, who through his disciple Stachys brought about the christianization of Byzantium and whose relics were venerated from the fourth century in the Church of the Apostles. Thus was the route opened for the theory of the Pentarchy, according to which five patriarchs were instituted by the Holy Spirit to govern the Church as successors of the Apostles and supreme Shepherds of equal rank.

The patriarchates of the East represent, without doubt, a pluralist element in the organizational structure of the Early Church. This pluralism grew spontaneously from different presuppositions and fac tors. Rome recognized it in principle, where it could be supported on apostolic origin. But together with this pluralism there went the possi bility of manifold tensions and conflicts, especially when a patriarch, as in the case of Rome, felt he must understand his eminently apostolic origin as the mission of leadership within the Universal Church. The ups and downs of these tensions and conflicts belong from then on to the exciting themes of Church history.

Ecclesiastical Assemblies

The institution of the ecclesiastical assembly, familiar from the pre- Constantinian period and called concilium or synodus,** was further elaborated in the fourth century and completed by new forms. At Nicaea the dates for the holding of the provincial synod were estab lished: twice a year, at the beginning of Lent and in the fall, all the bishops of an ecclesiastical province were to meet in order to discuss questions of Church discipline. The observance of this rule had to be re peatedly inculcated later, with constant appeal to the decision of Nicaea. It was the business of the metropolitan to invite the bishops to the synod, at which he also presided. The duty of all bishops to take part was enjoined, and unjustified absence was punished. The subject of the discussions was especially the disciplinary and liturgical regulation of the communities of the province, the examination of the legality of episcopal elections that had taken place, and the erection or division of bishoprics. The provincial council was functioning in the fourth and fifth centuries wherever the metropolitan organization had been introduced. Apparently it was in greater use in the East than in the West, where it was known in North Africa, Gaul, and, except in the fifth century, also in Spain. But it was not in use in Italy, where interprovincial forms of ecclesiastical assembly did not permit it to appear. As the lowest degree of all synods it knew no collaboration of the State officials, either in the summoning or in the execution of its decrees. Even if the provincial synod had certain characteristics common to the State provincial as semblies, nevertheless the cause of the ecclesiastical institution cannot be seen in these: their existence as early as the age of the persecutions, but especially the foregone conclusion of the process, make such a borrowing improbable and unnecessary. But probably the analogous profane institution may have been of influence in the development of an "order of business" for the synod in the fourth and fifth centuries, and hence for the course of the sessions, the role of the presidents, the manner of voting. Because of their eminent ability in function, which lay in the limited number of participants, the homogeneity of the geo graphical area, the limited nature of the questions to be treated, and the frequency and regularity of the meetings, the provincial synods of the Early Church had a great significance for the regulation of the day-to day life of the ecclesiastical communities.

The plenary council of the North African Church represents the organizationally most mature form of a synod comprising several ecclesiastical provinces. It was supposed to take place annually and thereby adopted the principle of the periodicity of the provincial synod. All the ecclesiastical provinces of North Africa had to send at least three representatives to this plenary council: they were elected from the members of the provincial synod. Under the presidency of the Bishop of Carthage, it concerned itself chiefly with questions which directly affected the entire North African Church, but it could also take a position on problems of the Universal Church and for weighty cause be convoked for an extraordinary session. The African plenary council distinguished itself in the confrontation with the Donatist Church, in the condemnation of Pelagianism, and in the discussion with Rome over the rights of the African Church, by a high degree of firmness and indepen dence.

The synods which the Bishop of Alexandria convoked were councils of the entire Church of Egypt, which knew no division into metropoli- nu LOUKLn ur lrtt fcMHIKi:

tan provinces. Hence all the bishops of that country and of Libya and the Pentapolis took part. They were not held at periodic intervals but only when it seemed advisable to the Bishop of Alexandria. Antioch also knew interprovincial synods, in which, however, neither the group of participants seems exactly fixed nor can a regularly recurring time for their convocation be discerned.

Among all the interprovincial councils a clearly unique position be longs to the Roman Synod,50 which represented the ecclesiastical as sembly of all bishoprics which were subordinate to the Bishop of Rome as the single Metropolitan of Italia Suburbicaria. It not only dealt with questions which applied to the bishoprics of this territory but also inten tionally made decisions on events and problems that primarily con cerned other ecclesiastical spheres of jurisdiction, as, for example, the Donatist question, the case of Athanasius at the Synods of 340 and 353, the Antiochene Schism at several synods under Pope Damasus in 368, 377, and 382, the affair of Chrysostom under Pope Innocent I, and finally the question of Nestorius under Celestine I in 430 and the Synod of Ephesus of 449 under Leo I. Here the powerful role of the Roman Bishop is clear: as president, he used the Roman Synod as framework and forum for decisions that he intended to have regarded as binding on ecclesiastical territories outside his own metropolitan sphere.

In Upper Italy too there appeared interprovincial councils under the direction of the Metropolitans of Milan (Ambrose), Aquileia, and later also of Ravenna, as the normal form of the ecclesiastical meeting. Al though in Gaul, despite several attempts, no ecclesiastical center could achieve the position of, let us say, Carthage, here too from the end of the fourth century the synod embracing several ecclesiastical provinces grew in importance, as the gatherings at Valence in 375, Bordeaux in 384, Turin in 398-400, Riez in 439, Orange in 441, and Vaison in 442 prove.51

Both the regularly recurring as well as the extraordinary interprovin cial councils were, with few exceptions, summoned by the bishop of the current ecclesiastical center. The convocation of the great ecclesiastical assemblies, whether the episcopate of a part of the Empire or that of the entire Empire was invited to them, came directly from the Emperor,

50 See, besides G. Roethe (literature), also H. Marot, "Les conciles romains des IVe et Ve siecles," L'Eglise et les eglises 1054-1954, Melanges L. Beauduin I (Chevetogne 1954), 209-240.

52 E. Griffe, La Gaule chretienne I (2nd ed.), 340-348: Les conciles interprovinciaux; J. Gaudemet, "La legislation des conciles gaulois du IVe siecle," Proceedings of the Third International Congress of Medieval Canon Law, Strasbourg, September 1968 (Vatican City 1971), 1-13.

TAJ

mostly at his initiative, at times at the request of the Roman Bishop. The first example of an imperial summons was present at the Synod of Aries in 314, to which Constantine I invited all bishops of his sphere of rule. That the Emperors understood the convocation as the proper act of the ruler's will is especially clear from this, that eventually they intended to punish any bishop who did not attend; hence they expected not only gratitude for a support given to the Church but obedience to a command. They not only created the technical presuppositions for the meeting of the council, which would, moreover, have overburdened the Church: they also determined the date and decided the exact group of participants and to a degree also the subject of the conciliar discussions. Although no secular or ecclesiastical law defined the imperial right of convocation, at this time it was not denied by any council or by the Roman Pope, but was expressly recognized, as, for example, by Leo I, who, after the disappointment of the Synod of Ephesus of 449, asked the emperor Theodosius II "to arrange" a new council. The imperial interest in the council convoked by him extended also to the course of the discussions, from which concrete results were expected. Hence, the Emperor was usually represented at the council by high officials, who, it is true, did not exercise the presidency, but saw to the orderly course of the debates and again set in motion business that had come to a standstill. The bishops' freedom of speech and of decision was in prin ciple substantially respected, apart from the authoritarian interference of the Emperor Constantius II, who at the Synods of Aries in 353 and Milan in 355 sought to extort a condemnation of Athanasius by threat and physical strength. That the Emperors confirmed the decrees of the great councils and gave them the force of law in the secular sphere was, after all, only normal.

Of course, the conciliar decrees received their validity within the Church, not from the imperial confirmation, but from the council itself. It is true that the Pope did not take part personally in any council outside Rome, but he was represented by his legates. If the participants made known to him the outcome of their deliberations, this did not

— i x\um mci.unmL'ca 1U LtU I

happen at first in order to procure for them their force in law.58 A new development is not apparent until the fifth century and thereafter. After the Synods of Carthage (416) and Mileve (417), the African bishops asked from Rome the confirmation of their decrees in order to obtain greater esteem for them; Rome more and more claimed the right to examine conciliar decisions and, if necessary, to reject them if they contradicted the Church's understanding of tradition and the faith. Leo I clearly regarded himself as the court which was set over the council and from which it received its authority.59

A new type of synod developed from the second half of the fourth century in Constantinople, where the bishops who were just then stay ing in the imperial capital met with the local bishop, probably mostly at the suggestion of the Emperor, to discuss important ecclesiastical hap penings or problems. Since the presidency devolved upon the bishop of the capital, this gathering of bishops, called Synodus Endemousa, became an important factor in the constructing of the authority of the see of Constantinople and, in a further development, an important administra tive organ of the Byzantine Church.60

58 The canons of Nicaea were not presented to him at all; the decrees of the Synods of Aries and Serdica were made known to him so that he might publish them. i9Epp. 44-45; 47-48; 50-51; 103; 105; 120; 146-149-

60 Cf., besides J. Hajjar, also R. Potz, Patriarch und Synode in Konstantinopel (Vienna 1971), 17-31.

CHAPTER 1 5

The Further Development of the Roman Primacy from Melchiades to Leo I

Even in the pre-Constantinian period of Church history a position of preeminence of the Roman community and its head within the Univer sal Church had developed; it became especially obvious under Victor I and Stephen I. For the further growth of such a claim to leadership it had to be of decisive significance how the Empire, once it had become Christian, would react to this, since to it likewise was conceded a special position, based on religion, in the developing Church of the Empire. When in 313 Constantine I denied the proposal of the Donatists to have their quarrel with Bishop Caecilian of Carthage settled by a secular court and referred this task to an episcopal court under the direction of the Roman Bishop Melchiades (311-314), this was neither an unjus tified interference of the Emperor into inner-Church matters nor, on the other hand, the recognition of a Roman claim to primacy, but simply regard for an already acknowledged preeminence of the Roman See in the Latin Church of the West, to which corresponded also the special treatment of the Roman community, as manifested in the gift of the Lateran Palace as the episcopal residence and in the encouragement of church construction, especially in the erecting of St. Peter's basilica by the Emperor. Since, however, the verdict of the episcopal court was not accepted by the Donatists, the Emperor regarded himself as justified, in the interest of peace, on his own initiative but without any objections on the part of the Church, in convoking a synod of the bishops of his area of rule to Aries in 314; at it Pope Silvester I (314-335) was represented by two priests and two deacons. The absence of the Roman Bishop was explained without difficulty by the pressing tasks which his office, just assumed, placed on him in Rome. But the members of the Synod them selves knew of a preeminence of the Roman See, since they first made known to Silvester the results of their discussions with the purpose that the Universal Church should be informed of them from Rome; hence they saw in Rome a sort of central office of information for the other churches. Their address, Gloriosissime Papa, for Silvester does not, of course, entitle one to see here an official title given to the Pope by the Emperor whereby the Emperor had included the Bishop of Rome in the rank of the secular gloriossimi: rather, it was an allusion and evidence of the Pope's position as a confessor in the Diocletian persecution. In the early phase of the Arian controversy Pope Silvester was surprisingly of little prominence, partly perhaps because the discussion occurred chiefly in the East and because another western bishop, Hosius of Cor doba, was the Emperor's adviser. At the Council of Nicaea Rome was again represented by two priests; however, it is not clear whether they played a special role in the discussions, especially in the formulation of the Nicene Creed. The later important religious political measures of Constantine do not allow one to see any special contacts with the oc cupant of the Roman See, just as in general the two decades of Silves ter's pontificate found no noteworthy place in contemporary literature. Later legend abundantly filled up this vacuum when it supplied the relations of the first Christian Emperor to the contemporary Roman

Bishop with fanciful details, which first appeared in the Actus Sancti Silvestri that originated in Rome in the fifth century and tendentiously attributed the conversion, baptism, and miraculous healing of the Em peror to Silvester, who in return was recompensed in imperial style with privileges and gifts. To the later forger of the so-called Donation of Constantine, the Constitutum Constantini, these "acts" offered welcome material.

Bishop Mark (336), who held office only a brief nine months, was succeeded by Pope Julius I (337-352), during whose pontificate the preeminence of Rome could develop in relatively greater freedom of movement, since the sons of Constantine were at first much less active in ecclesiastical political matters than was their father. Above all, in the confrontation over the person and affair of Athanasius the papal author ity could strengthen itself considerably in East and West. It is significant that both the opponents and the adherents of Athanasius turned to the Roman Pope to obtain from him approval of their attitude. First it was the Eusebians who sought at Rome the recognition of Pistus, designated by them as Bishop of Alexandria, and even proposed a synod which should confirm the deposition of Athanasius. Athanasius and the Alexandrian Church also sought justice at Rome, the former in person when he was expelled by Constantius from his episcopal city. And Bishop Marcellus of Ancyra, deprived of his office by the Eusebians, went to Julius I, since he expected to be rehabilitated by him. A Roman Synod in the autumn of 340 or at the beginning of 341 under the leadership of the Pope decided that Athanasius and Marcellus were to continue as the legiti mate occupants of their sees; Julius I justified the decrees of the Synod in a comprehensive, well-balanced letter to the Eusebians, who had remained away from it, and stressed unambiguously that, according to ancient prescriptive law, it had been their duty to turn first to Rome in the matter of Athanasius "so that from here it could be decided what was right." The Pope regarded himself also as qualified to dispense justice that was binding in the ecclesiastical affairs of the East and re ferred in this connection to a tradition descending from the Apostle Peter.

The awareness of being obliged to act for the Universal Church was expressed in Julius I's initiative with which he asked the Emperor Con- stans to convoke an imperial synod which should definitively settle the conflict. Since the Eusebian bishops refused their collaboration from the start, the Synod of Serdica (342 or 343) did not take place as a general council and even later it was not evaluated as such, even if the western bishops, together with a few Greeks, discussed questions and issued decrees which applied also to the Eastern Churches, such as the vindica tion of Athanasius and Marcellus and the punishment of the leading Eusebians. They communicated the results of their deliberations to the Universal Church, even the canons which stated the right of appeal of bishops to the Pope and awarded to the Pope the supreme judicial right of decision. However, the East did not accept the decrees of Serdica and so they could affect the position of the Roman Bishop only in the Latin Church. But there is no doubt that through the shrewd and deci sive intervention of Julius I on behalf of Athanasius the moral reputa tion of the Pope was notably strengthened.

With the acquiring of sole rule by Constantius in 353 there also began for the Latin Church a decade in which the Church's freedom was not only curtailed but forcibly suppressed by the despotic imperial caprice. No bishop had to taste it so bitterly as did Julius's successor, the former Roman deacon Liberius (352-366), in whom the papacy of the fourth century experienced its deepest humiliation and hence strong damage to its authority. In the first three years of his pontificate he appeared throughout as the firm defender of the Nicene faith and its champion Athanasius and aimed to promote this twofold concern to victory at a synod in Aquileia, which he requested from the Emperor. When, in stead of this, Constantius at Aries in 353 extorted the condemnation of Athanasius by the Gallic bishops and the Pope's representatives, Liberius bitterly deplored the collapse of his legates and of the Gallic episcopate and stated that he would prefer to die rather than to consent to decrees which contradicted the gospel. Two years later he had to experience again that the majority of the bishops at Milan (355) suc cumbed to the pressure of the imperial threats and assented to the condemnation of the Bishop of Alexandria. In the letter to the three bishops who had been exiled thenЧthis time his legates also stood firm, despite abuseЧhe courageously declared his solidarity with them and asked their prayers that he might withstand the attacks falling upon him and maintain faith and Church intact. Then after the Synod of Milan the

Emperor exerted an enormous physical and psychological pressure on Liberius in order to extort from him his assent to the verdict of condem nation on AthanasiusЧtestimony of the high moral authority of the Roman Bishop, which even the pagan Ammianus Marcellinus recog nized as the motive of Constantius's procedure.10 But neither threats nor presents, which an envoy of the Emperor alternately offered the Pope, nor the Emperor's violent fits of anger at a conference in Milan, where Liberius had been brought from Rome by night, could move the Pope to yield. Only a two-years' exile to Beroea in Thrace, thereupon decreed, combined with the persuasive tactics of the local bishops, adherents of the Emperor, and an agonizing homesickness, brought about the emotional breakdown, which caused the Pope to write those letters that were so seriously damaging to him, in which he broke off the Church's communion with Athanasius and with no sense of honor beg ged for only one thingЧto be allowed to return to Rome.11 A fall of Liberius into heresy, such as Jerome claimed some years later, cannot be maintained, since, while the Pope did indeed sign the first and the third creeds of Sirmium, which excluded the homoousios, they otherwise per mitted a quite orthodox interpretation. For the Pope's personal esteem, the disloyalty toward Athanasius weighed heavily enough; he was so compromised that Constantius could coolly disregard him in the follow ing years. Rome was neither invited to the Synod of Rimini in 359 nor was any effort made this time to obtain its assent to the decrees: its voice now carried no weight in the Emperor's ears. Even if the sympathies of a majority of the Roman community were with the returning exile and forced Felix, who had been made Bishop of Rome by Constantius in Liberius's absence, to leave the city, Liberius knew that at first he had to be silent. He seems not to have tried to make a personal vindication of his conduct, but his eager exertions for a rapprochement and reconcilia tion of the strictly Nicene with the Homoiousian faction after the death of Constantius and his clear repudiation of the creed of Rimini-Nice may have been regarded by him as a sort of making amends.12 However, later Roman tradition harshly judged his failure and put, not him, but his temporary opponent Felix (II) in the list of legitimate Popes.13

10 Ammianus Marcellinus, 15, 7, 10: "auctoritate potiore aeternae urbis episcopi firmari desiderio nitebatur ardenci."

12 The letters must be regarded as authentic, since even Athanasius, Hilary, the Lucifer- ians of Rome, and Jerome clearly speak of a collapse by Liberius; see the evidence in J. Zeiller, "La question du pape Libere," BullAncLitArchCret 3 (1913), 20-51, especially 22f.; P. P. Joannou, 125f., speaks unconvincingly against it, again of forgeries.

14 Letter to the bishops of Italy in Hilary, Fragm. hist., and to the eastern bishops in Socrates, HE 4, 12.

16 See Duchesne, LP, Introduction, CXXff. A verbose, laudatory epitaph (Diehl, ILCV, no. 967) can hardly refer to Liberius.

Popes Damasus I and Siricius

A consequence of the case of Liberius was, finally, the serious distur bances within the Roman community which broke out at the election of his successor. A minority, which rejected any reconciliation with the former adherents of Felix (II), quickly decided for the deacon Ursinus, whereas the majority chose the deacon Damasus (366-384) as bishop; while he may perhaps have been a partisan of Felix for a time, after the return of Liberius from exile he firmly adhered to him. Several bloody clashes of the two competing factions claimed more than 100 dead, for which, according to the version of Ursinus's adherents, Damasus alone was said to be responsible, whereas the pagan Am- mianus Marcellinus saw the cause of the chaos in the unchecked striving of both candidates for the Roman episcopal dignity, which assured its bearer a life in easy circumstances and external honors that of course was in sharp contrast to the simple life of self-denial, but deserving of respect, of some bishops abroad in the provinces. Even when order was gradually restored in Rome externally by the State authorities, the con flict smoldered for a year still, since the schismatic congregation of Ursinus persisted. It obtained new support when a Jew, Isaac, who had temporarily converted to Christianity, complained to the Prefect of the City against Damasus because of offenses not named in detail, and Roman clerics were tortured in the course of the trial. The imperial court acquitted Damasus, but he later used the case as the occasion to propose to the Emperor a comprehensive new organization of spiritual jurisdiction. A Synod convoked by him in 378, which again rejected as calumnies the complaints lodged against him by Isaac, submitted two proposals to the Emperors. In the event that clerics from Italy did not recognize a verdict pronounced against them by a spiritual court, the case should, with the aid of the State power, be sent to the court of the Bishop of Rome, but in the rest of the Empire to that of the metropolitan, while for trials of metropolitans the Bishop of Rome was exclusively competent. But he should be answerable only to the impe rial council in the event of an accusation, in case the matter could not be settled by the sentence of the Roman Synod. With these proposals Damasus was certainly trying to expand and guarantee a special spiritual

lA>ITlfll>CO IV^ UCVJ 1

jurisdiction recognized by the State and to obtain for the Roman Bishop in particular a privilege that would clearly have underlined his preemi nent position in the West. The reaction of the Emperors to these pro posals was curious: in regard to the first they granted more than was asked, since they extended the cooperation of the State in the execution of episcopal judgments to the entire western part of the Empire, but they indirectly rejected the second, the specially requested judicial competence of the Roman Bishop, with the vague explanation that the well-known sense of justice of the Emperors made it impossible that frivolously slanderous charges would be brought against the Bishop of Rome. From whatever motives, it seemed inadvisable to the political leadership of the Roman world to grant so exceptional a position to the ranking bishop of the West: Damasus had to be content with a half- success.

In the final phase of the Arian disorders also the Pope displayed initiatives which indicate clearly his exertions to promote the impor tance and rank of Rome within the Universal Church. The first Synod convoked by Damasus (368 or 369-370), which dealt with the elimina tion of the still present Arian influence in the Latin West, stressed in a letter to the Illyrian episcopate that the Nicene Creed, which came into existence with the collaboration of Rome, was valid in the entire Roman Empire, while, on the other hand, the decrees of the Synod of Rimini (359) were without effect, because the Roman Bishop, "whose judg ment must be obtained in preference to all others," had never assented to them. Hence the criterion of the orthodoxy of a creed must be its approval by Rome, and this claim found expression a decade later in the well-known law of Theodosius I of 27 February 380, whereby the Christian faith was declared the State religion in that form which the Romans once received from the Apostle Peter and which was now professed by Bishop Damasus of Rome and Peter of Alexandria. Both here and in the question of jurisdiction Damasus had apparently not recognized how doubtful it was to claim state aid for establishing his preeminent position or even to permit it to grant it. Too easily could the privilege become an oppressing shackle.

In the East also Damasus sought energetically to have Rome's author ity recognized, not always successfully of course, especially in the ques tion of the Schism of Antioch, in which Rome, informed solely and inadequately by Alexandria, clung stubbornly to the person of the Old Nicene Paulinus and by which it evoked the strong displeasure of Basil of Caesarea because of the arrogant tone of several Roman documents, even though Basil assigned to Rome a deciding function in questions of

18 Damasus, Ep. 1, which was later sent also to all bishops of the East.

faith. Damasus resolutely made use of this when at a Roman Synod in 378 or 382 he solemnly rejected the errors of Sabellius, Arius, Eunomius, the Macedonians, and others and transmitted these anathemas as the authoritative decision of Rome to Paulinus of An- tioch, to whom he had had sent a creed earlier, which was to serve as a standard to decide with whom communion was possible according to the Roman view and with whom it was not possible. Damasus tried to influence the appointment to the See of Constantinople when he re jected the elevation of Maximus the Cynic, urged by Alexandria, and commissioned Bishop Acholius of Thessalonica to work at the approach ing Council of 381 for the election of a worthy man who could assure the peace of the Church. It was, of course, precisely two canons of this Synod which gravely impeded any binding intervention by Rome into the inner ecclesiastical affairs of the East. While canon 2 defined the jurisdictional spheres of the eastern patriarchates, without even men tioning Rome, canon 3 gave to the Bishop of Constantinople "the pri macy of honor after the Bishop of Rome, because that city is the New Rome." Hence it could not but be welcome to Damasus when persons from the East applied directly to Rome and in individual cases asked its help, as, for example, did Paulinus of Antioch and Epiphanius of Salamis, to whom was accorded participation in a Roman Synod, or when Christians from Beirut asked of Rome a condemnation of their former Bishop Timothy. He aptly esteemed such "appeals" as an ex pression of the reverence which belonged to "the Apostolic See," be cause Peter had once taught in this Church. With this formula, which merely completed the identification of the Roman episcopal see with "the Apostolic See"Чit is first met under Pope Liberius and was used by Damasus with unambiguous frequencyЧthe Pope claimed a rank which was based not on Rome's political importance but on the quite special relation of the Apostle Peter to this community. But since it also ap pears in letters to the Greek East, which likewise exhibited apostolic churches, Rome intended to have preeminence in their regard also. This is confirmed by the fact that this formula, quickly accepted in the West, encountered a clear reserve in the East and here Rome was re garded only as one Apostolic See among several. Among these ideas of Damasus on a Roman preeminence within the Universal Church is to be included a text which is found in the so-called Decretum Gelasianum and was probably formulated at a Roman Synod under Damasus, perhaps in 382. Here the "Petrine" sees are presented in the order of Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch, but at the same time it is stressed that the Roman See owes its primacy not to synodal decrees but to the Lord's words in Matthew 16:18, and that this rank was further reinforced by the double martyrdom of Peter and Paul in Rome. If the document actually goes back to the Synod of 382, it is easily understood as Rome's stand with reference to canons 2 and 3 of the Council of Constantinople of the previous year and it again shows Damasus as a resolute champion of a steadily growing claim to a Roman Primacy, which through him found hitherto unknown formulations. Noteworthy grounds also give reason to see Damasus as the author of a comprehensive letter to the Gallic bishops. Here he asks those to whom he is writing, who have applied to the authority of the Apostolic See, to pay attention to what he has to say, and he warns them not to tolerate certain abuses in the Gallic clergy. He states impersonally that this or that is forbidden, that a person is excluded from the communion of the Apostolic See if he does not hold to what Scripture, apostolic discipline and tradition, the things handed down by the Fathers, and the regula ecclesiastica have established. Fundamentally new decisions or laws are not issued. Hence in this letter there is a sort of preliminary stage of the papal decretals, the content and form of which was perfected only under the next Pope.

Another aspect of the many-sided activity of Pope Damasus is dis closed by his correspondence with Jerome, whom he took for a while into the service of the papal chancery: his interest in the Bible, in individual points of exegesis as well as, especially, in a revision of the Latin translations of the Bible that were often different from one an other and faulty. That he entrusted Jerome with this task marks him as a far-sighted initiator of a work which was destined in the future to exer cise a wide-reaching impact as the Vulgata. In Rome itself the name of Damasus lived on in the numerousЧfifty-nineЧmetrical inscriptions, which, not without an overestimation of his poetical abilities, he com posed for many occasions and had carved in noble characters on marble by the master Furius Dionysius Philocalus. They were intended chiefly for the glory of the most distinguished Roman martyrs, for the church buildings constructed or restored by him, and for the remembrance of the deceased of his family. The inscription for his own tomb simply professes his faith in the resurrection through Christ.

Into the concept of the leadership role of the Roman Bishop as developed by Damasus his successor Siricius (384-399) introduced no decisively new characteristics. The former deacon of the Roman com munity was, probably with an eye to possible intrigues by the still living Ursinus, elected without delay and emphatically recognized by the court. Surely the sarcastic remark of Jerome on the simplicitas of the new bishop, who judged all others in accord with his own caliber, is full of resentment, since Jerome himself, as he states, was regarded accord ing to an almost unanimous judgment as a worthy successor of Damasus. But it reveals a grain of truth when Siricius was gauged against the figure of the contemporary Bishop Ambrose of Milan. In the latter's hands, not in Rome, met the great threads of Church politics: Ambrose corresponded with the bishops of the East, guided important superregional synods, and was the decisive conversationalist of the Em perors and of the imperial administration, whereas the activity of Siricius remained confined to the inner sphere of the Latin Church, and here he followed the guidelines developed under Damasus. His impor tance lies in the fact that he further developed, both in content and in form, into a serviceable instrument, the initial steps achieved by his predecessor for an independent papal legislation that embraced the entire Church of the West. This becomes evident in the voluminous document which is present in the letter of the Pope to Bishop Himerius of Tarragona in Spain, a reply of the Apostolic See to questions on a

* t nvyivi lUCLLniAUCd 1U LUU 1

rebaptism of former Arians, on the dates of baptism and problems of penance, on monastic and clerical discipline. Just as the Emperor gave a responsum provided with the force of law to the relatio of a provincial governor, so here the Pope took a position in regard to the report of the Spanish bishop and issued legally binding rules for the questions raised, and he no longer recommended their observance: he commanded itЧ jubemus; inhibemus; mandamus; decernimus; tenenda sunt decretalia con stituia; quae a nobis sunt constituia, intemerata permaneantЧand threat ened sanctions for disregard. Siricius justified his full authority by refer ence to his office, which laid on him the care for all, whose burden he has to bear, which rather the Apostle Peter bears in him, who guards him as the heir of his full authority in all his measures (Ep. 1, 1). Anyone who does not adhere to the order given by him separates himself from the safe apostolic Rock on which Christ built his Church. The addressee is ordered to bring these statuta apostolica to the knowledge of the bishops of the provinces of Cartagena, Baetica, Lusitania, and Galicia. Here for the first time are found all the material and formal elements which constitute the essence of the papal decretals, which in the future were only refined in details and achieved the highest importance. Similarly Siricius declared in a letter to the bishops of North Africa, in which he made his own the decrees of a Roman Synod, that everyone is excluded from communion with Rome who does not comply with the directions given here. A decree to the bishops of Central and South Italy on the conditions for admission to the episcopal office was again based on the cura omnium ecclesiarum, laid on the Pope, and stressed that unity in faith demands also unity in tradition. A letter to the Bishop Anysius of Thessalonica made known Rome's special interest in the ecclesiastical affairs of the Balkan Peninsula. To the bishop was en trusted control of all episcopal ordinations in Illyricum and there was an allusion that for such an office a cleric of the Roman Church might be considered, if necessary. Here a stage of that development became clearly discernible which had already begun under Damasus and was completed with the formal erection of the Papal Vicariate of Thes salonica under Innocent I. Siricius intervened in the emotional discus sion which was kindled by the former ascetic Jovinian, who denied the value of fasting and declared marriage and virginity equal in rank, and, according to Ambrose, denied the virginitas Mariae in partu. At the Synod of 390 Siricius had Jovinian and his followers cut off from the

Church, while he left the verdict on Bishop Bonosus of Naissus, who did not recognize the perpetual virginity of Mary, to the Synod of Capua directed by Ambrose in 391 and to the bishops of Illyricum.

Pope Innocent I (402-417)

At the start of the fifth century stood the forceful personality of Inno cent I (402-417)Чhis predecessor, Anastasius I, whose intervention in the Origenist controversy has already been treated, was in office only three yearsЧwho sought to realize his own high notion of the primacy of the Roman Bishop with methodical determination. The broad field of ecclesiastical discipline presented itself as an especially favorable area for the realization of his leadership task, perceived as a duty, since it gave occasion to manifold inquiries in Rome and made it possible for Innocent to use the now fully developed instrument of the decretals, controlled by him in a masterful way. Of course, it is found especially frequently in Rome's own metropolitan sphere, hence in the bishoprics of Central and South Italy. The inquiries made known some abuses in these churches: encroachments of one bishop on the jurisdictional area of his neighbor, laxity in regard to heretics, admission of the unworthy to spiritual office, and frequent ignorance of the liturgical and canonical prescriptions. With the bishops concerned, Innocent spoke unambigu ously in the language of the superior: he preferred to give his rebukes in the ironical form of reprimand of miramur, and there was praise only when a person turned in doubt to him, ad caput atque apicem epis- copatus. Although from time immemorial a certain plurality prevailed, especially in the field of the liturgy, Innocent wanted to make the consuetudo Romana the sole binding norm in the entire area of Church order and, indeed, on the untenable ground that all the churches of Italy, Gaul, Spain, Sicily, and the Mediterranean islands received their bishops from Peter or his successors. The same goal was pursued in the letters, written in a still more peremptory tone, to the Gallic Bishops Exsuperius of Toulouse and Victricius of Rouen, at times a responsum to appropriate inquiries, which gave the Pope the gladly taken opportu-

DEVELOPMENT OF THE ROMAN PRIMACY FROM MELCHIADES TO LEO I

nity to secure outside the Roman metropolitan area legislative recogni tion of the Roman Church order, especially since, as he stressed, it was based on apostolic tradition and ultimately on Peter, "through whom the apostolic and episcopal office took its beginning in Christ." The position of Rome as the highest court of appeals was ably underlined and in regard to content was extended by his demand that all the more important cases (causae maiores) be submitted to the Apostolic See. Since it was not decided what at a given time was to be regarded as causa maior, the Pope assured himself the possibility of intervention as he saw fit, while on the other hand the reference contained in the formula causae maiores to the supreme judicial position of Moses (Exod. 18:22) gave a biblical consecration to the Roman claim.

The intention of Innocent I to guarantee the competence of Rome in Eastern Illyricum underlay the first extant writing from his hand, a letter to Anysius of Thessalonica, which announced the change in the Roman See and in a general formula confirmed to him the right of supervision "in that area" allegedly granted to him by his three predecessors. But the Pope only took the decisive step in 415, when he commissioned Rufus, successor of Anysius, again with appeal to biblical models, to undertake "in our stead" (nostra vice) the care of all bishoprics in the Illyrian Prefecture and thereby created the Apostolic Vicariate of Thes salonica, which was supposed to guarantee the claim of Roman supre macy against Constantinople.

Innocent I came into a direct confrontation with the eastern patriar chates in the course of the serious conflict centering on John Chrysostom. The latter, bishop of the capital since 398, had lost the favor of the court through his candid preaching, had become unpopular also with a part of the clergy because of his demand for an ascetic lifestyle, and finally had become the victim of the intriguing Bishop of Alexandria, Theophilus, who could never reconcile himself to the exalted rank given to Constan tinople by the Synod of 381. When in 404, at the Emperor's com mand, Chrysostom was deprived of his office and exiled to Armenia, he turned to the Bishops of Aquileia, Milan, and Rome for help. Inno cent I thereupon demanded the convocation of a general synod of the eastern and western episcopates at Thessalonica, adhered to this de- - . .wiL.ri r\L~1 IJ ^nAL^EiAJIN

mand despite Theophilus of Alexandria, and sent to the Emperor Honorius the acts pertaining to the case, with the petition to protest in this sense to his brother at Constantinople. But the treatment of the delegation dispatched by Pope and Emperor to ConstantinopleЧit was treated en route without respect by the eastern officials, not admitted to the Emperor's presence, and forcibly sent back to Italy Чclearly showed the limits which were set down for a Bishop of Rome in the Eastern Empire. The effort of the Pope to display an independent initia tive in a conflict within the Eastern Church miscarried; he encountered serious difficulties from the leading bishops of the EastЧAlexandria and AntiochЧand he foundered on the attitude of the Eastern Emperor, who claimed for himself the ultimate power of decision. Thus there remained to Innocent only the formal protest and the honorable and immovable maintaining of ecclesiastical communion with Chrysostom, whose restoration to the diptychs he stubbornly demanded of the Bishops of Alexandria, Antioch, and Constantinople even after Chrysostom's death in 407. He utilized the correspondence with Alex ander of Antioch to expound to him his idea that the supremacy of Antioch over the episcopate of the political Diocese of Oriens was based, not on imperial marks of esteem but on the decrees of Nicaea; the sarcasm toward the higher valuation of the See of Constantinople by the Emperor was obvious.

A highly significant possibility of realizing Innocent I's grasp of his teaching authority in the strict sense was, finally, offered by his attitude in regard to the Pelagian controversy. In 416 three letters reached him from Africa Чone each from episcopal synods in Carthage and Mileve, the third from Augustine and four of his fellow bishopsЧin which the fear was expressed that the suspected doctrines of Pelagius would con tinue dangerously in consequence of his rehabilitation by the Synod of Diospolis (415), unless their condemnation should follow from Rome. All three letters extolled the authority of the Apostolic See, which derived from the authority of Scripture and should confirm the verdict of the African episcopate on the heresy and thereby give it a special effect. In his reply of January 417 Innocent praised the bishops for

-Xiiv^x rnuM MELCt-llAOliS TO LEO I

following tradition founded, not on human, but on divine decree and for turning to the Apostolic See because they knew that all matters, even those of the most remote provinces, could not be definitively settled until they had been brought to Rome's attention. This was above all true in questions of faith, in which all bishops had to turn to Peter in order to obtain from this apostolic source an answer to their questions. Here Innocent expressed the conviction, the first to do so with such unambiguity, that the Sedes Apostolica possesses the highest teaching authority. It has been doubted that this conviction was shared by the African episcopate, especially since Innocent deepened and ex tended the notion of the authority of the Roman See. But it will have to be granted that the praise and the biblical justification of this authority, which the bishops bestowed on it, showed it on a route that would lead to its full recognition.

The satisfaction of the African bishops over the decision of Pope Innocent I turned quickly into dismay when in rapid succession there arrived two letters from the Greek Zosimus (417-418), who had been elected Pope; they made known that Caelestius had exculpated himself in person and Pelagius through a profession of faith presented in writ ing, and that in Africa these men had been condemned frivolously and precipitately on the basis of statements of extremely doubtful wit nesses; they would be regarded by Rome as rehabilitated if no one could demonstrate their alleged errors within two months. But the African episcopate remained firm and forced Zosimus first to a revision, even though limited, of his verdict on Caelestius. When then an Afri can general council in May 418 again rejected the Pelagian doctrines and stated concisely that the verdict of Pope Innocent on Pelagius and Caelestius was still in effect, and when at the same time the Emperor Honorius agreed with this view and banished the adherents of the heresy, Zosimus, in accord with a Roman Synod, published an anathema on the Pelagian doctrines. Although the Pope apparently had no ap preciation of the theological achievement of Augustine in the Pelagian question, Augustine tried to explain in a conciliatory manner the Pope's fluctuating attitude from a pastoral care for those in error.

The crude way in which Zosimus sought to correct, in accord with the

Roman view, the right of appeal hitherto prevailing in the African Church, had a similarly negative effect. A priest of the bishopric of Sicca, Apiarius, was stripped of his office by his bishop and had appealed against this judgment directly to Rome, contrary to African disciplinary law, which for such cases provided for, first, appeal to a neighboring bishop, then to the African general council, and directly forbade any further appeals. Opposing the demand made by a papal delegation in Africa that Apiarius should be reinstated in his earlier rights, Aurelius of Carthage insisted that the matter first be treated at the coming synod. This synod received the repentant Apiarius back into the communion of the Church, but ordered his removal from the see of Sicca and so informed Pope Boniface I (418-422), not without indicat ing how very much people in Africa were affected by Zosimus's arro gant manner. When the case was exactly reenacted under Pope Celes- tine I in 424ЧApiarius relapsed, was again excommunicated, again appealed to Rome, from where the same legate as before was sent with concrete instructionsЧthe African episcopate reacted very decisively: for the future the Pope was not to accept any appeal from a priest condemned in Africa, not to believe complaints frivolously, and not to accept into communion persons excommunicated in Africa, since to do so was contrary to the decrees of Nicaea. The last reference shows precisely that the African bishops were really concerned about the main taining of their own rights.

It has been surmised, probably wrongly, that in his unfortunate pro cedure Zosimus was under the influence of a man who, without doubt, supplied the impetus for a further serious blunder by the Pope. In the latter's first letter after his election, to the Gallic episcopate, Bishop Patroclus of Aries was given a series of striking privileges, which were to lead to a first serious conflict. No Gallic cleric might thereafter apply to Rome without a letter of recommendation from the Bishop of Aries; and all controverted matters within the Gallic Church were to be sub mitted to him, provided that, not being causae maiores, they did not have to be sent on to Rome; finally, the Bishop of Aries was elevated to metropolitan over the territory of the three provinces of Viennensis and Narbonensis I and II and the full right to ordain was given him for

i muia 1Y11I1V I11 'MM'.,"> Id UiU I

them. This special position was first justified by the personal merits of Patroclus, then by the false claim that Aries had received its first Bishop Trophimus from Rome and thereby had become the mother Church of all Gaul. When the directly affected Bishops of Narbonne, Vienne, and Marseille complained in Rome over the curtailment of their previous rights, they were sharply repulsed, and Proculus of Marseille was even deposed. The ensuing disturbances within the Gallic Church com pelled the successor of Zosimus to annul his measures and restore the ancient metropolitan order. In the two years of his pontificate Zosimus had, through his ill-advised decisions, wasted much of the capital in papal authority which Innocent I had prudently and systemat ically collected.

The dubious administration of Zosimus, which in his last months had even evoked opposition in his own clergy, had an impact in the confu sion over the selecting of his successor. There occurred a double election, since one faction proclaimed the deacon Eulalius, probably favored by Zosimus, while the majority of the priests expressed them selves for the Roman Boniface I (418-422). In accord with the report of Symmachus, Prefect of the City, the Emperor decided for Eulalius, but, when further exertions for peace were fruitless, he directed a great synod to settle the schism. However, since the adherents of Eulalius, against the imperial command, kept Rome in unrest through further demonstrations, Honorius finally decided that Boniface should assume the office. Under the impression of the recent chaos, Boniface sent a petition to the Emperor, in which in a general form he requested his protection for the Church, whereupon Honorius issued a rescript pre scribing that in a future double election in Rome a new election by the entire community should decide the Roman Bishop. This first papal election arrangement in history, decreed by the State, had, it is true, no influence in the later period, but the esteem and independence of the Roman See at first suffered because of it.

In addition to the already treated tasks of clarifying the right of appeal of the African Church in the case of Apiarius and to the restora tion of the metropolitan rights in Gaul, Boniface also faced the critical question of ecclesiastical supremacy in the Balkans. This was seriously threatened when the bishops ofThessaly, unhappy with an appointment arranged by Rome to the episcopal see of Corinth, applied to Constan tinople and obtained from the Emperor Theodosius II an edict whereby all controverted cases of the Churches of Illyricum were to be submit ted to the bishops of the capital of the Eastern Empire, since this city possessed the rights of Old Rome. In letters to Bishop Rufus of Thes- salonica, whose vicariate was confirmed, and to the bishops of Thessaly, Boniface repeated in the language of Innocent I that the care for the Universal Church was laid on the Bishop of Rome as a duty and hence included also the Churches of the East, who accordingly had consulted Rome in serious questions in the past. Furthermore, the Pope induced the Emperor Honorius to write to Theodosius II, who thereupon in structed the Praefectus Praetorio for Illyricum to observe the previous order of ecclesiastical circumstances in his sphere of authority. The view of Rome was clearly formulated by Boniface: that, despite all recognition of the rank of the Churches of Alexandria and Antioch, Rome alone was the head, the others were the members (Ep. 14, 1).

The understanding of the primacy by Pope Celestine I (422-432) found expression above all in the decisions which resulted from the controversy over the teaching of Nestorius. When the latter and Cyril presented to him in the summer of 430 their view of the Christological question and of the previous course of the discussion, he saw in this an appeal from the East to Rome, at once had a position adopted in regard to it at a synod, and made known its decrees to those directly concerned and to the clergy of Constantinople. Cyril was commissioned, "in his place," to see to the implementation of the Roman synodal verdict, which called upon Nestorius to recant and, in case of his refusal, ex cluded him from the ecclesiastical community. In the letter to Constan tinople Celestine stressed that the Christians there were also his flock, for whom, in according with 2 Corinthians 11:28, his paternal care was intended. Here a repeated claim of the Pope became clear: the eastern Churches were also confided to his care, hence he could and must intervene in their affairs also, especially if, as here, there was a question of faith; he could make binding decisions and appoint a deputy. But the further development showed that, as previously, people were of a dif ferent opinion in the East in regard to such a claim. The decision of the

ucvcLurraciM 1 yjc inn KUMAIN fKlMACY FROM MELCHIADES TO LEO I

Emperor to have the controversy over Nestorius settled at an imperial Synod, to which Rome too was invited, had put Celestine into a pre carious position, since Rome had already taken a position and could not revise its verdict. And so the legates appointed for Ephesus received orders to consult there with Cyril, not to intervene directly in the discussion but only to express their view of the verdict rendered, and for the rest to be mindful of the authority of the Roman See. Of course, the letter to the Synod stated clearly that the legates had to carry out what had already been decided at Rome and that the Pope did not doubt that the Council would assent to these decrees. But since Cyril, appealing, it is true, to his function as Celestine's deputy, without awaiting the arrival of the papal delegation, had already accomplished the condemna tion and deposition of Nestorius, the verdict of Rome could only be made known subsequently to the participants in the Council. But the Roman Legate Philip ably explained their acclamations as recognition of the head by the members and declared before the assembled Synod that "Peter, head of the Apostles, pillar of the faith and foundation-stone of the Church, up to this day and for ever lives and governs in his succes sors" and that Celestine is his successor and representative; this Synod took note of these explanations without objection. The Pope soon claimed for himself, in an assessment of the Council's work, the chief role in the outcome and stressed in regard to the clergy of Constan tinople that Peter had not abandoned them in their need. Thus far no Pope had emphasized to the Eastern Churches as clearly as Celestine the rank of the Roman Bishop as head of the Universal Church, but an express acceptance of his claim did not follow at Ephesus.

Relations with the Eastern Churches also played a considerable role in the pontificate of Sixtus III (432-440). The Union between Alexandria and Antioch of 433, brought about after much exertion and not without Rome's collaboration, filled the Pope with great satis faction; in a letter to John of Antioch he stressed how important it was to be of one mind with Rome, since in the successors of Peter was found the tradition which the latter had received. The cordial relations now existing between the Eastern Churches and Rome were temporarily overshadowed by an effort by the Bishop of Constantinople, Proclus, in 434 to recover influence in Eastern Illyricum, in which he had the support of some of the bishops of the area. Sixtus discreetly repulsed this attack, on the one hand calling attention to the position and rights of the Bishop of Thessalonica as vicarius sedis apostolicae and defining them precisely, and on the other hand making known to Proclus his expecta tion that he would not listen to the Illyrian priests or bishops who would apply to him contrary to the law. Finally Sixtus maintained the re membrance of the two important theological decisions of his time in impressive buildings. He had the Liberian basilica on the Esquiline rebuilt and in its magnificent mosaics and in its dedication inscription had the dogmatic statements of Ephesus in honor of the Theotokos pub lished. And the transformation and decoration of the Lateran baptistery, with the distiches on the efficacy of the grace of baptism in man, recalled the defense against the Pelagian assault on the nature of Christian grace.

Pope Leo the Great

In Leo I (440-461), who even before his official elevation as deacon of the Roman congregation had exercised a strong influence on his two predecessors, the consciousness of the primacy in the Early Church achieved its first definitive climax. This Pope was deeply convinced that only Christ is the true and eternal Bishop of his Church; he can bear the burden of his office only in reliance on him who works in him and accomplishes the right that he does. But since Christ as the eternal Bishop granted to Peter an imperishable participation in his episcopal power, Peter always presides over his Roman See, and it is Peter who likewise works and acts through his heirs. Leo I deepened this notion of the Roman Bishop as Peter's heir already employed by Siricius, and saw in it the real justification of the primacy: just as the heir enters into

Ч'Miv^i rnVM MClA^nmi/UJ iV lAiV A

all rights and duties of the one whose heir he is, so the current Bishop of Rome, as Peter's heir, assumes his function, full authority, and privi leges. Not Peter's having worked in Rome, not the possession of Peter's tomb, but the legally understood succession of the heir permits the Roman Bishop to function as Peter's vicar.86 And furthermore, as, ac cording to Matthew 16:18, more power was entrusted to Peter than to the other Apostles, so the same is true for the relation of his heir to the other bishops. On such a basis Leo understood himself as called to an office whose burden and dignity he likewise felt. It placed on him the duty of supervising in the Universal Church the purity of doctrine and standing up for a manner of life within this community which corre sponded to the gospel and the tradition of the Fathers. As no Pope before him Leo I sought to do justice to this duty, in a seriously ac cepted responsibility and in the awareness of a high dignity, and at the same time with a watchful eye for the possible in the concrete individual case and with diplomatic skill.

In the territory of the Latin Church Leo's claim to leadership encoun tered no fundamental opposition: it was recognized, of course, without reserve by a relatively weak Western Empire. When the Pope learned of the existence in Rome of a not inconsiderable Manichaean community, he proceeded against it energetically and secured without hesitation an imperial edict which intensified the punishments already prescribed against it and for years he warned in word and writing against the Manichaean danger. When various congregations of the province of Venetia enlisted the services of former Pelagian clerics without ade quate supervision, he admonished the Bishop of Aquileia to greater vigilance. Learning that Priscillianism was again flourishing in Spain, he supplied in a decretal concrete instructions for the action of the bishops. Abuses in episcopal elections in North Africa, which came about in consequence of the Vandal invasion, induced the Pope to write to the episcopate of Mauretania, to demand a comprehensive report on the measures adopted. Leo's jurisdictional power seems to have been questioned, and only temporarily, by a single Latin bishop, Hilary of Aries, a former monk of Lerins, in whom purely personal ascetism was

iiNi-jEK LITE or lilt LHUKCH BETWEEN NICAEA AND CHALCEDON

joined to a strong inclination to a not always discreet supervision of ecclesiastical discipline in the whole Gallic Church. He derived the right , to this from alleged privileges of the see of Aries, which he also person- \ ally defended before a Roman Synod, to which two Gallic bishops had \ turned with their grievancesЧone because he had been uncanonically deposed by Hilary, the other because he had decided on a successor in his own lifetime. Leo quashed both measures of Hilary; he left him in office, but only as Bishop of Aries, whose metropolitan rights passed to the senior bishop of the province. In a masterfully formulated and mea sured letter to the bishops of the province of Vienne the Pope made known his decisions and emphasized expressly that he made them in his character as successor of Peter. He aptly utilized the case to have an edict, requested from the Emperor Valentinian III for the Count Aetius in Gaul, confirmed, to the effect that the primatial claim of the Roman Bishop was independent of any consent by the State. Since Hilary submitted to the Roman judgment, the case remained only an episode without that importance which is at times ascribed to it. Leo I had to call his vicar at Thessalonica to order when the latter exceeded his authority in regard to the metropolitans of his territory. In a formula become famous, which was later to enjoy great vogue at the papal chancery, the Pope made clear to him that the Roman Bishop had summoned him, in transmitting the vicariate, only to a share in his care as shepherd, not to the fullness of his power. Leo found an equally clarifying expression for the meaning and range of episcopal collegiality: all bishops are equal in dignity, but not in rank, as was already the case in the Apostolic Col lege, since preeminence was given to one. From this pattern {forma) was deduced its measure in the pastoral care, which was different according to the importance of the individual see, but the care of all of them flowed together into the comprehensive care of Peter's see for the Universal Church: only a concordia sacerdotum thus understood guaran teed the unity of the Church.

However, the real and decisive testing area for the possibility of realization of Leo's understanding of the primacy was and remained the Churches of the East. Already in his letter of congratulations to Dio- scorus of Alexandria, who had announced his election, the Pope in a cautious formulation mentioned that unity must prevail between Rome and Alexandria, since in the Roman Church the traditions of Peter,

LYII.UIAYIMIIM KJR inn RUMAIN fKiMACY 1'KOM MELCHIADES TO LEO I

honored by the Lord with the primacy, were held in respect and in Alexandria those of his disciple Mark, and between teacher and pupil no opposition should exist. A direct reply from Dioscorus to Leo's letter is not extant, but what he really thought of Rome's position in the Universal Church was expressed clearly in the treatment which he ac corded to Leo's legates at the imperial Synod of Ephesus in 449. He imperiously pushed aside their demand that the Synod at least let the papal verdict on the teaching of Eutyches, as contained in Leo's letter to Flavian of Constantinople, be read, and just as coolly he disregarded the Roman protest against the deposition of Flavian. This unambiguous nonrecognition of any special position of Rome by the Church of Alexandria was accompanied by the negative attitude of the Emperor Theodosius II, who bluntly rejected the combined petitions of the Pope, the Emperor Valentinian III, and the latter's mother Galla Placidia for the convoking of a new council in Italy. In his reply to Valentinian he consciously spoke only of the "Patriarch" Leo, whereas the letters of the Western imperial family clearly referred to Rome's universal rank. It is true, the Pope had often extolled in lyric terms the importance of the imperial office for maintaining the purity of the faith and had characterized its representatives as inspired by the Holy Spirit, but the real value of such formulations becomes discernible when it is established that Leo I by no means now abandoned the Eastern Church to the leadership of the Emperor. On the contrary, he was obliged to remind it continually of its duty to protect and be vigilant, did not hold back with pronounced criticism of the failure of Ephesus in 449 for which the Emperor was largely responsible, and demanded that a new council must correct "quae contra fidem facta sunt," and he even ex pressed his concern that the Emperor could in regard to a truth of faith become the victim of deception. Certainly, the bishops deposed at Ephesus in 449ЧFlavian, Eusebius of Dorylaeum, and Theodoret of CyrrhusЧturned to Rome for help and to some extent expected or asked of the papal authority direct reinstatement in their former offices, but such voices remained isolated.

Like Pope Celestine earlier at Ephesus in 431, now Leo I had to be concerned that at the Council of Chalcedon his doctrinal decision con tained in the Epistola ad Elavianum should not be again questioned. In keeping with this concern was the conduct of his legates, who re peatedly stressed the supreme teaching authority of Rome and in tended to prevent any procedure that contradicted this notion. As a matter of fact, no formal objection to it was raised at the Council, and the legates could have seen from their point of view a recognition of the Roman standpoint in several incidents, as in the third session of the Council, in which under their presidency and in their formulation, the verdict on Dioscorus was handed down, which referred expressly to the Roman primacy. They could, like Leo himself later, find great satisfac tion in the acclamation which greeted the Epistola DogmaticaЧ"Peter has spoken through Leo"Чand interpret this in the sense of an approv ing confirmation of the Roman teaching authority. In reality the situa tion was by far not so clear. Without doubt, the letter to Flavian was once again discussed, and a group of the bishops had hesitations because of certain formulations, which had to be cleared up. The acclamations for the Epistola must obviously be understood as the Council's confirma tion that Leo's teaching concurred with the tradition of the Fathers; hence the Council regarded itself as authorized, first to examine it and then to proclaim it. The Council acted even more independently in questions of jurisdiction, as, for example, the reinstatement of the de posed bishops, which it decided lay within its competence. This inde pendence appears most strongly in the decree of the Council which is contained in the so-called canon 28 and granted to the see of Constan tinople the same rights as the Roman See possessed, since they were of equal rank as the imperial cities. From this was derived for the Bishop of Constantinople the right to ordain all the metropolitans of the Dioceses of Pontus, Asia, and Thrace and of all bishops in the areas bordering these territories. The Council maintained this decree against the protest of the papal legates, but after the conclusion of the sessions turned to the Pope, again expressly recognized his teaching authority, explained the meaning of the canon, and asked him "through his recognition to honor" this decree also. The Emperor Marcian and Bishop Anatolius also petitioned Leo in the same sense. Leo's protracted comments in letters to the imperial pair and to the Bishop of Constantinople evalu ated canon 28 as a serious affront to the decrees of Nicaea and solemnly declared it invalid,101 but achieved only a temporary suspension of the decree.

Glancing at this complex situation, one must say that the Council of Chalcedon did not express an unlimited and full recognition of Leo's understanding of the primacy, but the Roman teaching authority in the strict sense found a measure of assent previously unknown and later never again realized, whereas a competence of Rome in questions of ecclesiastical discipline and jurisdiction could not be established, but was only occasionally accepted by individual bishops. How unenduring was even this relative success was quickly revealed by the struggle that at once began in the East over the validity of the Council of Chalce don.102 Of course, in the West the primacy of the Roman Bishop was no longer challenged in the full breadth understood and formulated by Leo I. Certainly, the surpassing personality of this Pope contributed to this: in the contemporary West no figure of similar importance could be set beside him. Above all, through Leo's fearlessly standing up for the protection of Rome and Italy in the face of Attila (452) and of the Vandal King Gaiseric (455),103 the Pope had become the support and anchor in their earthly misery in the eyes of many in place of an imperial office that was completely breaking down.

101 Leo I, Ep. 104-106.

102

103 See Chalcedon II, 13-177.

104

105 Prosper, Chron. ad ann. 452 and 455.

106

CHAPTER 16

The Clergy of the Church of the Empire

At the beginning of the fourth century there had long been a general conviction that, within the Christian community, there had to be a special clerical state with various ranks, to each of which were allotted specific duties in the service of the community. The synodal and papal legislation of the age, as well as the initiative of individual bishops, tried to assure to the mandate of this state the highest possible efficacy, especially by defining the conditions for admittance, more clearly dis tinguishing the spheres of activity of the individual offices from one another, and caring for the spiritual and intellectual formation of its members. Individual authors produced outlines of a priestly ideal, which could keep alive the seriousness and meaning of the priestly mission.

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The Various Orders

The actual division of the clergy into two groups, characterized by Innocent I as clerici superioris and inferioris ordinis,1 was familiar to the fourth century. To the first clearly belonged bishops, priests, and deacons, whose ordination was reserved exclusively to bishops and whose special rank was also recognized by state legislation.2 The lesser ranks, on the contrary, were subject to wide variations, not only in regard to their number and esteem but also to their field of activity.3 The orders most often named in the sourcesЧthose of subdeacon, aco lyte, exorcist, porter, and lectorЧwere not actually found in all local congregations, nor was admission to the next highest order strictly re lated to the exercise of the preceding degree; there was not even agreement whether each of the orders named really represented a cleri cal function. The lectorship4 was usually regarded as the stage of entry into the clerical career: in the fourth century it was often conferred on boys who seemed suited for the clerical state. At first the lector was responsible for the reading of the Scripture in the liturgy, later also for the singing of the psalms. The East gradually distinguished the singer from the reader, without however ordaining the former for his func tion,5 whereas in Rome the liturgical choir was constituted of lectors. Since the function of the lector presupposed a certain education, this order was usually regarded as the necessary preliminary for admission to one of the higher orders.6 The office and function of the porter are rather hazy in the sources: in the enumeration of the orders by Siricius, Innocent I, and Zosimus it was not usually mentioned, whereas at the end of the fifth century Gelasius I named it but did not count it in the clerical state. However, it existed at Milan under Ambrose, in Africa the porter was regarded as a cleric, and the Statuta ecclesiae antiqua ex pressly speak of his ordination. In the East the function appeared in some sources of the fourth century, but the Apostolic Constitutions did not know any ordination to it. In the time of Justinian, the porter no longer belonged to the clergy and was not again mentioned after the

1 Ep. 2, 3.

3 Even a chorepiscopus could ordain a priest or deacon: Council of Antioch, canon 10. A rule of the Emperor Arcadius decided that bishops, priests, and deacons could not be required to serve in a curia: Cod. Theod. 12, 1, 163.

5 Cf. especially W. Croce, op. cit.

7 See H. Leclercq, "Lectorat," DACL VIII, 2247-2269; A. Quacquarelli, "Alle origini del lector," Convivium Dominicum (Catania 1959), 381-406.

9 Council of Laodicea, can. 23, 24; Const. Apost. 2, 26, 3; Jerome, Ep. 52, 5. Only the Statuta ecclesiae antiqua, probably compiled by Gennadius of Marseille c. 475, in canon 98 name as the last clerical stage the psalmista, probably adopted from the East.

11 Council of Serdica., canons 10 and 13 respectively; Test. D.N.J. Chr. 1, 45-

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Trullan Council. The name and the presentation of the church keys in the ordination probably assigned to him a supervision of the church and of those present during the celebration of the liturgy. The Apostolic Constitutions also denied a special ordination for the office of exorcist, since he possessed a charism directly bestowed by God for his task, which consisted in the care of the catechumens and energumens. In East and West the function clearly lost importance from the fifth century and finally ceased to exist. Whereas the office of acolyte was never able to establish itself in the East, it acquired in the West, and especially at Rome, a certain respect: its holders appeared as the assistants of the subdeacons in the liturgy, although they are found in Gaul only toward the end of the fifth century. The subdiaconate must be regarded as a splitting-off from the office of deacon, but its functions were not, of course, clearly defined everywhere. At Rome its number corresponded to that of the Seven Deacons, and this indicates them as their assistants. Their cooperation in the liturgy, as with the case of the acolytes, gradu ally withdrew behind tasks which were entrusted to them in the admin istration of Church property. In the course of the fourth century there occurred in the rapidly growing communities a further differentiation of the duties of deacons and priests; their more precise definition led on occasion to considerable difficulties. Since the deacons were in many respects the direct cooperators of the bishop, at times even his representativesЧthey played a special role in the administration of Church property, in the choice of candidates for ordination, and in liturgical functionsЧtheir reputation and influence were quite often greater than that of the priests. At Rome they constituted the collegium of the Seven Deacons, whose head was called the archdeacon by the end of the fourth century, and it was mostly from their number that the Pope (or also the Antipope) was elected. The sources make known that they rather often claimed liturgical functions that were reserved to the priests or in general sought precedence over these. And so various synods had to remind them of their real rank and clearly relegate them to the place behind the priests. These had full authority to administer baptism and celebrate the Eucharist in the event that they were ap pointed to a church of their own; otherwise, they supplied for the bishop in these functions in his absence. At times they were even entrusted with preaching, which was basically the bishop's responsibil ity.

In the fourth and fifth centuries attempts were made to reevaluate the priesthood with a view to the rank of the bishop and also to justify this in theory. The notion of one Aerius of Sebaste, for whom the episcopate and the priesthood were equal in rank, was rejected by Epiphanius of Salamis on the ground that only the bishop could ordain priests. Chrysostom also saw as the sole difference between priest and bishop the full power of the latter to perform the ordination of clerics. In the West the Ambrosiaster and Jerome regarded the distinction between the two orders as not original, since priest and bishop are in principle sacerdotes; the later distinction in rank goes back, they said, to mere considerations of expediency. Similar ideas are found in the treatise De septem ordinibus (after 420) and, independently of it, in Isidore of Seville. Tendencies of this sort were however rejected by Innocent I, who expressly calls priests secundi ordinis, and later by Gelasius I, who aimed to penalize with deposition the encroachments of priests, e.g., the ordaining of acolytes and subdeacons and the preparation of the chrism.

While the Synod of Serdica enacted the general rule that the cleric should prove himself for a time in the individual orders before he could advance to a higher one, Popes Siricius and Zosimus established definite intervalsЧtempora, the later intersticesЧfor remaining in one order, but the observance of this had to be again imposed by Leo I. Then Gelasius I championed the noteworthy idea that these prescriptions were to be treated flexibly and should be accommodated to the con temporary demands of preaching.

As regards the numerical strength of the clergy, both in individual communities and in entire provinces and countries, there are few reli able reports from this period, but no doubt in the Church of the Empire

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of the fourth century it grew considerably in proportion to the number of Christians. Complaints about the lack of recruits for the priesthood were raised in Africa, however, at the time of the Donatist controversy and in Italy as a result of the chaos of the migrations of the peoples.

Preliminaries for Admission to the Clerical State

In contrast to certain particular early Christian factions, such as Mon- tanists or Priscillianists, the Church of the Empire on principle admitted only men to clerical orders. Deaconesses, who in the Latin West never achieved the same importance as in the East, were, it is true, inducted into their state by a special riteЧimposition of hands and prayerЧbut the really sacramental sphere was not open to them. Their service was chiefly oriented to the women of the community, whom they prepared for baptism, took care of in the actual baptism, nursed in sickness, and acted as their contact with the clergy of the community.

Ecclesiastical legislation of the period in general required for admis sion to the individual orders a maturity corresponding to their impor tance, but in determining the age for ordination it was still fluctuating and not uniform. From the decretal of Pope Zosimus on the length of the interstices the following minimum ages result: for the acolyte and subdeacon, twenty-one; for the deacon, twenty-five; for the priest, thirty years. The most frequently mentioned age for the ordination of a bishop varied from forty-five to fifty years of age. The numerous exceptions indicate that these statements referred to standards whose observance could be disregarded if there was question of the ordination of an especially qualified man. For example, Ambrose of Milan became a bishop eight days after his baptism at the age of twenty-four, and Hilary of Poitiers before he was thirty-five; Epiphanius of Pavia (d. 496) became a subdeacon when he was eighteen, a deacon at twenty, a priest at twenty-eight, and in the same year he was made a bishop.

The previously universally observed requirement of physical integ rity and psychological health in the candidate for ordination was differ entiated from the fourth century. Not only self-mutilation but strongly deforming scars or the lack of a bodily member excluded one from

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ordination, as did mental disorder and epilepsy. But more important for the Church was the fitness in moral character for the ecclesiastical state, and the testing of this was demanded with increasing urgency. This testing included a rather protracted probation of the previous layman in the faith and a moral life, and so the ordination of a neophyte was possible only by way of exception. This probation clearly had to be denied to those who had apostatized in a persecution. But a greater flexibility was shown to those who came to the Catholic Church from a schismatic or an heretical community, and on occasion their clerics might be left in their previous rank, as in the case of the Novatians at Nicaea and of the Donatists in North Africa. It was more difficult to determine an objective standard for the evaluation of moral qualities. The general view was that no fitness for the clerical state was present in those who had had to submit to public ecclesiastical penance because of serious sins. The earlier mentioned Statuta ecclesiae antiqua, a sort of manual for the clerical state, demanded that, in addition to usurers, agitators and those who took justice into their own hands were excluded from orders. That these norms were often not observed is proved by the complaints, raised again and again, by the Popes on the ordination of indigni and the exclusion, decreed by them, of the guilty from the clerical state. That the clergy had to have at its disposal an extensive theological and pastoral knowledge because of its duty of proclaiming the faith and caring for souls was stressed by many authors and bishops of the time as well as by the Popes of the fourth and fifth centuries, but the sources provide only slightly varied statements on the contem porary educational program of clerics. The leading bishops and theolog ical writers of the age, a minority compared to the totality of the clergy and for the most part members of the educated class, had attended the profane schools of the fourth and fifth centuries and hence were also in a position to acquire the requisite theological knowledge through pri vate study. In the East this group could acquire a high degree of theological formation at the few theological schools, of which at that time the Asceterium of Diodorus at Antioch occupied an exalted rank. There were also men with this type of education who regarded certain fields of profane knowledge as necessary for a deeper grasp of theology. But the great majority of the lesser clergy at this time had at their disposal no theological institutions with a definite program of studies, and so the clerical aspirants were for the most part introduced by the contemporary local clergy into Scripture, the manner of administering the Sacraments, and the rest of pastoral activity. Under especially favor able conditions, as, for example, in large communities or under a bishop who welcomed initiative, a sort of scholastic instruction could develop, as was already foreshadowed in the Roman schola cantorum of the third century and then must be assumed in the beginnings of the vita com munis of the clergy of the Church of Vercelli under Bishop Eusebius (d. c. 371) and for some communities of North Africa. The clergy of the congregation of Hippo obtained an optimal formation under Augustine in his monasterium clericorum, but in his letters he had at times to com plain in distress about the low level of knowledge of some clerics in the country. From the fifth century also some monasteries of the Latin West acquired a great importance for the education of clerics, as, for example, the South Gallic island monastery of Lerins, from which pro ceeded many bishops, who then sought to form the clergy in their sees on the Lerins model. The heart of the priestly education was generally considered to be the knowledge and understanding of Scripture, which was strictly demanded by all the contemporary "mirrors" for priests and bishops. The Statuta ecclesiae antiqua required that it be ascertained in a candidate for the episcopacy before his ordination that he possessed a satisfactory literary education, was familiar with Scripture and reason able in interpreting it, that he knew the doctrines of the Church and concurred with the basic truths of faith. The cultural and economic crisis that accompanied the migration of the peoples and the consequent lack of recruits naturally caused these requirements often to be to a great extent disregarded.

Certain structures of the society of late antiquity also presented the Church and State of the fourth and fifth centuries with problems in regard to admittance to the ecclesiastical state, and both of them, at times from different motives, tried to solve them, for the most part in the same direction. For example: the slave was basically an equal and full member of the Christian community, but his social and legal lack of freedom in contemporary society often made him seem as unsuited for a clerical function as were the serfs bound to the soil on the State domains or the estates of the owners of latifundia by the colonate legislation. Even the freedman was to be included with them in a certain sense, since he remained bound to his former lord through various obligations, and in certain cases the lord could cancel the manumission. And so the Synod of Elvira (c. 306) forbade the ordination of freedmen whose patroni were still pagans, a prohibition which the First Synod of Toledo (400) modified to the extent that it made the admission depen dent on the consent of the former lord. Pope Leo I expressed himself in a general way against the ordination of slaves and other dependents, because their ties to their lords did not permit them to devote them selves totally to the service of God. Pope Gelasius I justified this regulation on the ground that the ordination of these unfree would disregard the rights of others and the state legislation, except in the case of the colonus who had obtained the written permission of his lord. Slaves ordained contrary to this rule had to return to their lord, unless they were already priests; deacons could retain their office only if they supplied a substitute to their lord. The state laws here mentioned by Gelasius were, first, a decree of the Emperor Theodosius II, which forbade the ordination of a colonus without the consent of his lord and only permitted one already ordained to continue in the service of the Church if he paid the tax laid on him and a substitute took over his former duties. Furthermore, a decree of the Emperor Valentinian III forbade the ordination of slaves and coloni and left bishops and priests from these classes in their offices only if they had already occupied them for thirty years. In addition, state legislation sought to keep members of individual professions or holders of state or urban offices from entry into the clerical state because they seemed indispensable for the opera tion of the administration and the economy. These included especially

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the decuriones, members of the urban curiae; the holders of this office formerly desired it, because it was privileged, but later it became a compulsorily hereditary administrative function, and from the third cen tury its holders were subject to growing financial burdens since they had to be responsible from their own resources for the raising of the taxes assessed on their city and in addition had to perform costly services for the State and the community. A possible way of escaping from such burdens was entry into the ecclesiastical state (or into a monastery); hence in the late Empire this was forbidden to decuriones by frequently renewed state legislation or was made more difficult by financial sanc tions. The Church formally yielded to these demands, but only half heartedly, since it had to be concerned for adequate recruits to the clerical state. Popes and synods, it is true, repeatedly referred to the observance of the imperial directives but only rarely pronounced corre sponding penalties against those who violated them and again and again subsequently granted a dispensation. For its part, the Church had hesitations about the admission of former state officials, who after the reception of baptism could have been forced, for example as soldiers or judges, to shed blood or to preside over pagan feasts. Here the long existing Christian conviction that one in so "secular" a service could be freed of guilt only with difficulty came into operation in a concrete manner. According to another interpretation, former administrators of property or trustees could be ordained only if they proved that they were free of all possible obligations arising from their previous activ ity.

Clerical Marriage and the Beginnings of Celibacy

At the beginning of the fourth century there were in the Church clerics of all ranks of the hierarchy who continued, without any limitations, the married life they had entered before ordination and others who, of their own accord, had decided for continence in marriage or for the renuncia tion of any marriage. In the pre-Constantinian sources married clerics are naturally mentioned more frequently than the unmarried. From the third century, in the wake of the high esteem of the ideal of virginity, the continentia of the clergy was extolled with great praise. Tertullian and Origen made clear their sympathy for it, and justified it with the greater efficacy of its prayer and the special purity required for intimacy with the Christian mysteries. Clement of Alexandria adduced as motive for the continence of the clergy, which he found in the Apostle Paul, the greater availability for the care of souls and the example proposed to virgines.

Of the married cleric it was at first required only that his marriage be spotless in every respect, that is, that both spouses enter into marriage as virgins and always maintain mutual fidelity. A second marriage did not measure up to this ideal, and so a man who had remarried or the husband of a widow was excluded from the clerical state. This rule at first lasted throughout the fourth century, but even so there were in the East discussions as to whether a marriage contracted before baptism should be considered here and whether the prohibition of the second marriage applied only to the higher orders. However, one who, when unmarried, had received one of these orders could not later enter into a marriage; a possibility envisaged by the Synod of Ancyra (314) that a deacon might, at his ordination, reserve for himself the right to a later marriage was soon abandoned. True, in the East there was no lack of tendencies which desired of the married cleric, especially in the higher orders, a total continence in his marriage, but the Council of Nicaea had not accepted a motion for a legal stipulation in this sense. And the Synod of Gangra (340 or 341) had sharply rebuked the adherents of Bishop Eustathius of Sebaste, who demanded the strictest asceticism, because they refused to take part in the Eucharist celebrated by a mar ried priest. The Canons of Hippolytus rejected the demand that a priest to whom a child was born should be deposed, and the Apostolic Canons forbade a bishop, priest, or deacon to dismiss his wife "on the pretext of piety." It was only under the Emperor Justinian I that the practice of the Eastern Church experienced a substantial limitation, when he for bade a man who had children or grandchildren to be ordained a bishop: concern for them could all too easily distract him from his duties toward God and Church and bring him into the temptation to bestow ecclesias tical property on his descendants. The definitive legislation for the East ern Church came from the Quinisext Council of 692, which required of the married candidate for the episcopacy separation from his wife and her entrance into a monastery, whereas it permitted to priests and deacons the continuation of their marriage and demanded continence only on days on which they celebrated or concelebrated the liturgy.

In the Latin West the development ran in another direction, since here from the late fourth century, under the authoritative leadership of Rome, the demand was made and firmly established by law that clerics of the higher orders were obliged, if they were married, to absolute continence after ordination. It is true that such an obligation was first stated at the beginning of the century at the Spanish Synod of Elvira, but it remained a local matter. The first Roman document that was concerned in detail with the question was the letter of Pope Damasus I (366-384) to the Gallic episcopate. It justified the regulation by arguing that a bishop or priest, who preached continence to others, had himself to give an example and must not esteem physical fatherhood more highly than the spiritual fatherhood which his office so often bestowed on him. The model of the Apostle Paul and that of the priesthood of the Old Testament obliged the servants of God always to preserve them selves "pure," since they had to be prepared at any moment to adminis ter baptism, to celebrate the Eucharist, and to reconcile sinners. The violation of this "cultic purity" by the priest meant that he did not deserve this name and was not worthy to have the mysterium of God confided to him. Damasus's successor, Siricius (384-399), took up the question in two other decretals, which disapproved strongly of the prac tice whereby in Spain remarried men were admitted to the higher or ders without objection from bishops or metropolitans or that priests, after their ordination, continued married life and for this even appealed to the priesthood of the Old Testament: for the future, he declared, no bishop, priest, or deacon who violated this law would find clemency or pardon. Around the turn of the fourth to the fifth century the strict continence of married clerics in the three higher ranks of the hierarchy was a clearly decided question in the pronouncements of the Popes. Innocent I added to the decrees of his predecessors the provision that a monk who aspired to admission to the clergy must not for that reason count on being freed from the obligation of celibacy that he had earlier assumed. The further inculcating of the rules of continence by Popes Zosimus (417-418) and Celestine I (422-433) made it clear, of course, that violations still had to be deplored again and again. Leo I (440-461) finally extended the law, without detailed justification, to subdeacons, whose growing approach to direct service at the altar brought them closer to the deacons. The papal legislation on clerical marriage at once found expression in

INNER LIFE OF THE i.nuw.n

the synodal decrees of various ecclesiastical territories. The Synod of Carthage of 390, referring to the enactments of an earlier council, imposed total continence on bishops, priests, and deacons, and, like the Popes, justified it by their service at the altar. Eleven years later a Synod of Carthage of 401 decided that offenses against the law should be punished by the removal of the guilty from their offices. Such sanctions seem rarely to have been necessary, since Augustine expressly praised the model attitude of the African clergy in this matter. The Synod of Turin in 398 issued similar rules for Upper Italy, and for the Balkans Pope Leo I expressly confirmed the regulations already long in force there. Likewise, the Synod of Toledo in 400 admitted into its decrees the directives on clerical marriage given by Pope Siricius for all the Spanish provinces. In Gaul the effects of the papal decretals were felt only relatively late at the First Synod of Orange in 441, which for the future would only admit married men if they bound themselves to continence.

Not only the papal decretals but the corresponding synodal legisla tion were motivated in their requirement of the sexual continence of the higher clergy most often by the cultic purity requisite for the adminis tration of the Sacraments. In this unsatisfactory justification there oper ated, in addition to the Old Testament prescriptions of purity, especially the idea of the high dignity of the Christian priesthood, which was seen as fundamental in its relation to the Eucharist. A more exact investiga tion of the total picture of the contemporary priesthood, as it is sketched in the patristic literature and appears in the texts of the ordina tion liturgy, can, however, establish a series of further essential mo tives for priestly continence: the greater availability for service in the preaching of the gospel; the exemplary life of the priest, who preaches continence and virginity to others the more efficaciously if he sets a convincing example; the spiritual fatherhood of the priest, who im parts the higher spiritual life through administering baptism and recon ciling penitents; and finally, even if more indirectly, the imitation of the priestly model of Christ himself and the specific participation in his priesthood. The essence of this lex continentiae can be understood only against such a total background.

The episcopal recommendations of total continence in the higher clergy must have been suggested by the idea of uniting the clerical office and celibate monasticism, as was often the case in Egypt as early as the days of Athanasius. Probably this union was also true of the already mentioned vita communis of the clergy of the Church of Vercelli, which Bishop Eusebius introduced; Augustine implemented it in the monas- terium clericorum of the community of Hippo, for which he also found sufficient recruits. The Gallic Bishop Veranus, probably of Lyon, who corresponded with Pope Hilary (461-468), championed the idea that monks should be ordained as priests, since a number of select and proved men, even though it might be smaller, would through their example be of use for the Church's tasks. It is clear here that at first individual bishops, going beyond the general ecclesiastical regulations, demanded the affirmation of total celibacy as a condition for admission to the clergy of their local churches.

Choice and Ordination of the Clergy

The vocation to an ecclesiastical office occurred in principle through election made by the entire community, clergy and people, but the manner in which the people participated showed considerable differ ences. Reflected most clearly in the sources is the manner of the election of a bishop. Generally the new bishop was called from the clergy of the local church because a candidate of this sort could best be

INNER LIFE OF THE CHURCH BETWEEN NICAEA AND CHALUiuuiv

evaluated by the electors; to be sure, exceptions were not at all rare. Since as unanimous a choice as possible was desired, the clergy of the community first agreed on a candidate, whom the people then approved and for whom the assent of the bishops of the ecclesiastical province, especially that of the metropolitan, was asked. Occasionally, as in the case of Ambrose of Milan, the community in a public demonstration demanded the ordination of a man acceptable to it. And the participa tion of the people is demonstrable in the election of a series of Popes. But this was gradually limited by several factors. For example, the circle of the laity was reduced to the socially leading class of members of the community, such as curiales, senators, and others, who came to a deci sion in private discussions, while the rest of the people only acclaimed. To the decline of the lay element corresponded the growing influence of the bishops of the ecclesiastical province, which was often fostered by the lack of agreement of the community on the candidate to be elected or by its decision for a candidate who was canonically unsuitable. If the bishops themselves were divided in their choice, the final decision be longed to the metropolitan. Apart from Central Italy, for which the Pope possessed the metropolitan rights, the latter intervened only if disputed cases were referred to him; for the rest, he limited himself to inculcating the norms generally valid for the election. Finally, the secu lar authority also interfered in the filling of vacant episcopal sees, either through high officials or through the Emperor personally, without thereby creating a legal basis for such a procedure. This exercising of influence is especially found in the East, where all typesЧfrom the discreet wish through heavy pressure to unambiguous commandЧwere made use of. Even if in the majority of cases an entirely worthy candi date was chosen bishop, a large number of precedents is demonstrable in the fourth and fifth centuries in which the episcopal election was burdened or debased by abuses of various sorts, such as designation of his successor by the previous bishop, the selfish favoring of a candidate, and simoniacal or similar intrigues.

A peculiar mentality of the time was revealed by some reports on ordinations to which the candidate envisaged was compelled by stratagem, surprise, or direct force: this procedure was apparently not seen as questionable. No bishop, no pope, no synod declared such

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ordinations invalid, only rarely were they blamed, and only once does an imperial edict declare invalidity in an individual case. At times the unanimous will of the people may have been regarded as God's voice; sometimes the refusal of the one elected was more an initial reaction of terror in the face of the responsibilities which such a function imposed. But one also gets the impression that it pertained to the style of the age to utter a formal rejection of the office in order not to fall under the suspicion of seeking the episcopal dignity from ambition or greed.

Since the fundamentals of the rite and law of ordination were laid down in the pre-Constantinian period, especially by means of the Traditio Apostolica of Hippolytus, it is sufficient here to refer to the additions that completed them. Now in the Latin West ordinatio became in the colloquial speech of the Christians the designation for the rite of ordination, whereas consecratio was reserved for the ordaining prayer that accompanied the rite of the imposition of hands. Furthermore, definite times for ordination were developed: for episcopal ordination, Sunday, which Leo I designated as an ancient custom; for the ordination of priests and deacons, the Ember Saturdays and the Saturday preceding Passion Sunday. All ordinations were incorporated into the celebration of the Eucharist. While the Apostolic Constitutions knew the imposition of hands also for subdeacon and lector, in the West it remained reserved for the three higher ranks of the hierarchy; in East and West the imposition of the book of gospels was also added to the rite of episcopal ordination. Although Gelasius I emphasized the exclusive right of the bishop to ordain, by way of exception he granted to the priest the bestowing of the ordination of subdeacons or acolytes. Quite frequently the bishops of this period had to be reminded that they could exercise their right of ordination only within their sees and in regard to members of their own church. In principle, clerics were ordained for service in a definite local church; a transfer to another church should be possible only by way of exception, but, especially in the case of bishops in the Eastern Empire, it was more frequent than the ecclesiastical legislation envisaged.80

Privileges of the Clerical State

Under the first Christian Emperor not only was the special status of the clergy, hitherto prevailing within the Church, also recognized by the State: in addition, it became a clearly privileged state by the granting of specific rights in comparison with the average citizen or the various professional groups. Constantine first freed it from the so-called mun- era, specified services performed for the State, such as the duty of assuming the office oidecurio, properly provisioning the imperial retinue or troops passing through, or performing certain compulsory services (munera sordida), in order to make possible the unrestricted carrying out of its ecclesiastical duties. An exemption of clerics from the land tax, granted by the Emperor Constantius in 346, was as early as 360 again limited to ecclesiastical property in the strict sense, and all clerical privileges in regard to taxation were annulled by the Emperor Valentin- ian III in 441 because of the precarious financial status of the Empire. The exempting of the clergy from the lustralis collatio, a tax which merchants had to pay every five years, seems to have had an especially negative effect on the reputation of the Church. The numerous com plaints about clerics engaged in business on behalf of the Church show that this privilege opened the door to abuses and obliged the State and the Church to repeated restrictions and prohibitions.

Of special importance for the credit of the Church in public life became the recognition of the judicial activity of the bishop in civil disputes, hitherto exercised only within the local episcopal congrega tion, that is, the incorporating of the so-called audientia episcopalis into the Roman civil law procedure. Constantine was convinced that an episcopal court, because of the high moral authority of the judge, guaranteed justice more and specifically protected Christians from the danger of being subjected to a prejudiced pagan judge, although now the pagan citizen could entertain the same suspicion with regard to the Christian bishop. In practice, then, this privilege proved to be for the Church a rather dubious gift. Hilary of Poitiers indicated that the func tion of a state judge clearly contained dangers for Christians if it was sought from ambition and because, even with disinterested motives, it inevitably ensnared them in quarrels and injustice. The majority of bishops were overburdened in this way because of a lack of juridical education; however, they could renounce the performance of this func tion as judge. Augustine, who was not lacking in the prerequisites for it, complained very strongly that this judicial function claimed many an hour which he would prefer to devote to prayer or the study of Scrip ture and that the bishop's verdict usually displeased one party, which then accused him of having bent the law. Yet he thought it was right that Christians should not have recourse in their disputes to the state court, but he regretted that no lay Christians were available for the office of judge. Around the turn of the fifth century the audientia episcopalis was restricted to the merely mediating function of arbiter, which a Council of Carthage in 397 had already favored and which was far more suited to the meaning of the episcopal office. It seems that, for the Church's part, no one complained about this, and the same was true when the Emperor Valentinian III restricted this mediator's activity to purely ecclesiastical cases.

Because of the summoning of the bishops to judicial functions there were attempts to deduce the raising of the episcopate of the Church of the Empire to noble status by the Emperors and hence its legal enroll ment in the high ranks of the official hierarchy of the Late Roman Empire; it was said that it was already introduced by Constantine when, probably as early as 313, he had created for the Bishop of Rome the rank of the gloriosissimi, which was later made accessible to the other bishops; even priests and deacons, for the sake of honor, obtained the dignity of an ??lu s tris. However neither can any vestiges of imperial decrees of such import be detected nor did the imperial chancery in its correspondence make use of the pertinent titles nor can an expression of it be found in the ecclesiastical epistolography of the age. Instead, there developed a properly Christian vocabulary for the address and title of the occupants of ecclesiastical functions; the imperial chancery made use of this, and this made known a gradual differentiation accord ing to the stages of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, which could probably be suggested as such by the state model. In the state sphere must also be sought the models for a series of episcopal insignia, such as the pallium, stole, footwear, and the like, which from the fifth century emerge in the liturgical dress of the clergy; but, again, there is no trace of an official bestowal of such insignia by the Emperor on the claim of an elevation of the episcopate to the nobility. The episcopal cathedra, for its part, was already in the pre-Constantinian age a sign of the episcopal dignity and both a symbol of the bishop's teaching authority and a symbol of the apocalyptic throne of God which could clearly be derived from the collision of Christianity with Hellenistic-Oriental ideas of the throne of the God-King.

It is undisputed that the episcopal office in the fourth and fifth cen turies, both through the development within the ChurchЧgrowth of the spiritual authority in the numerous and increasingly strong local churches, at synods and councils, enhanced influence through economic and financial independenceЧas well as through the respectful and con siderate treatment of its holders by the Emperors, the court, and the officials of the imperial administration and of the urban authorities gained an enormous social prestige. Unfortunately, it also seemed de sirable to the uncalled to a great degree and was often sought with means and methods which had to be censured by the Church again and again in the severest tone. But a considerable gain in prestige accrued to the episcopal office from those manifold social welfare activities which so often made the bishops of the transition period from late antiquity to the Early Middle Ages the advocates of the poor and the miserable, the helpers of refugees, the spokesmen of prisoners, and even the defenders of the episcopal city in the threat of the migrations. The designations pater populi, pater civitatis, pater urbis et pater patriae, which did not signify the bishop's legal position, were the spontaneous echo which this aspect of the episcopal activity aroused in the hearts of those who experienced it in themselves.

The Collegiality of the Bishops

The presbyterium, which, according to the letters of Ignatius, assisted the local bishop in his duties, retained its function of service and of acting as deputy also in the fourth and fifth centuries. To be sure, at times the bishop was admonished to make use of the advice of his priests in specific cases, but the priests did not constitute a collegium which could act as such independently of the bishop by virtue of its own full power. The efforts described earlier to equate the office of priest and bishop in rank toward the end of the fourth century remained isolated and without direct effects. The ordo episcoporum, for its part, maintained its independence, which since Irenaeus was based on the conviction that the bishops as a whole were the successors of the Apostles and con tinued their function within the Church. The consciousness of the apos tolic succession of the bishops remained also and was fully maintained under the primacy of the Roman Bishop that was at the same time achieving complete recognition and to a degree manifested itself in new ways. This could be observed especially in the development of the terminology, which the age employed for the episcopal office and its function. It the term sedes apostolica was used by the Roman bishops ever more frequently to denote their own see, this was true at the same time for other episcopal sees, even those to which no special rank pertained either from tradition or from their momentary organizational impor tance: every episcopal see was, therefore, sedes apostolica. The same idea is found in the application of the epithet apostolicus and of the noun apostolat us to the rank and activity of every bishop. The designation of a simple bishop as summus pontifex is even seen for the first time in a papal letter and appears especially in the address of letters to Gallic bishops.

An occasion on which the collegiality of the bishops especially ap pears was an episcopal ordination. Since in canon 4 the Council of Nicaea prescribed the presence of all bishops of the ecclesiastical prov ince, but at least three of them, in this liturgical act, it was regarded as the norm, which was to be observed even under very difficult circum stances and which was again and again called to mind. In Africa a certain preference for the number of twelve consecrators was establishedЧit suggested the idea of a representation of the college of Apostles. Even if no more detailed theological justification for the plurality of conse crators in the episcopal ordination was given, still the idea of episcopal collegiality was clearly expressed by it.

The concept of the apostolic succession also formed the basis for the idea of the collegiality of the bishops, which, especially in the fifth century, was decisively championed by the papacy itself in connection with the Christological controversies. Even before the Council of Ephesus, Pope Celestine referred Nestorius to the fact that, by his doctrine, he was excluding himself from the communion of the epis copal college, and his letter to the Council stressed that the proclama tion of the gospel was entrusted to the episcopate in its totality, as it had once been confided to the college of Apostles, from which it had legiti mately inherited this commission. Pope and bishops were obliged in their collegial responsibility to guard the true faith for the Universal Church and to stand up against error. For the bishops who continued to support Nestorius there was no place any longer in the episcopal col lege. Sixtus III invited these bishops "again to enter the synedrion of the bishops" in order to be received back into the ecclesiastical communion. Pope Leo I further deepened this understanding of episcopal collegial- ity when he emphasized that each bishop, in addition to his own see, bears a responsibility for the Universal Church, that in the ultimate analysis the Holy Spirit produces the inner unity of this college, and that of course no bishop can exercise his pastoral office in the Church if he is not in communion with Peter's successor.101 This idea of collegial- ity was defended by the other Popes of the century down to Gelasius I, who emphasized that the legitimacy of the episcopal college is derived from the college of Apostles and in this way precisely is distinguished from every collegium haereticorum. Collegiality thus understood was fur ther expressed in the formula of the consortium and of the communio episcoporum and finally determined also the sense of the designations fratres, coepiscopi, collegae, and consortes, which the Popes liked to apply to the bishops. The further history of the idea of episcopal collegiality makes clear that the understanding of it gained as early as patristic times was again obscured in the future by other developments or almost fell into oblivion.102

101 A. Tuilier, "Le primat de Rome et la collegialite de 1 episcopat d'apres la corre- spondance de s. Leon avec l'Orient," Nuovo Didaskaleion 15 (1965), 53-67.

102

103 Y. M. J. Congar, "Notes sur le destin de l'idee de collegialite en Occident au moyen age," La collegialite . . . , 90-129; id. "La collegialite et la primaute de Rome dans l'histoire," Angelicum Al (1970), 403-427.

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CHAPTER 1 7 The Liturgy

The new situation consequent on the gaining of the Church's freedom and the turning of the imperial office to the Christian religion also influenced to a great degree the very heart of the interior life of the ChurchЧthe liturgy. These influences were for the most part directly related to the special missionary situation in which the Church then found itself. Now it had to prepare for its initiation a constantly growing flock which, for whatever motives, was requesting admission into the Christian community; hence the existing institution for this preparation, the catechumenate, was subjected to a severe test. Since, with the in creasing number of Christians, more mediocrity also penetrated the congregations and with it the number of failures grew, the earlier peni tential discipline was again examined in regard to its meaning and func tion. Furthermore, as always in periods of increased missionary activity, the Church was confronted with the problem of adaptation and hence with the question to what extent it could christianize certain forms of pagan celebrations and piety and incorporate them into its liturgical sphere. And so a series of new elements appeared in its sacramental liturgy, in church building, and in the liturgical year. The new relation ship of the Church to the State and to public life made possible and likewise produced new forms, especially in the area of liturgical rep resentation and the expansion of the liturgical calendar of celebrations.

Differentiation of Liturgies in East and West

From the fourth century there can be observed an increasing differentia tion of liturgies, hitherto uniform in their basic features, but in principle free in the construction of word and rite: several factors contributed to this. Thus occasionally there was seen a tendency to unite the wording of the liturgical prayers more strictly to fixed norms and subject it to a certain control in order to shield it from possible heretical falsification. Then, the development of much larger ecclesiastical structures supplied an impetus for the differentiation of the liturgies. The liturgy in use in the churches of the chief centers of these areas, especially of the devel oping patriarchal sees, acquired the character of a norm and gradually established itself in the sphere of influence of these ecclesiastical cen ters. In addition, the difference of languages and the cultural and na tional self-consciousness of individual regions produced by them in the areas of the expansion of Christianity repeatedly proved to be an espe cially effective principle of the differentiation, which included also the liturgical sphere. Finally, after the Councils of Ephesus in 431 and Chalcedon in 451, Nestorians and Monophysites went their own ecclesiastical ways and thereby promoted a special development of their respective liturgies. The process of differentiation naturally extended over a rather long period of time, at the end of which stands the codifica tion of the liturgies, which took place for most of them only in the sixth and seventh centuries, but thereafter still admitted supplements and modifications.

Of the great eastern patriarchatesЧAntioch, Alexandria, and ConstantinopleЧthe first named displayed, with its proximate and re mote hinterland, a richly creative liturgical activity. A more ancient core of it belongs to the so-called Apostles' Liturgy of the East Syrians, which first appeared in its complete form in the fifth century in the Syriac language and which remained the liturgy of the Nestorians, of the Uni- ate Chaldaeans, and of the Malabar Christians. The West Syrian Liturgy was distinguished for a special wealth in anaphoras (formulas of the Eucharistic Prayer or Canon). The Liturgy of James, originating in Jerusalem, must be regarded as their basis, as is testified both by the mystagogic catechisms of Cyril of Jerusalem and by Jerome. Known in the Syriac translation to the author of the Testamentum Domini of the fifth century, it became the normal liturgy of the Christians in the sphere of Edessa (Jacobites). Antioch itself or at least its immediate vicinity was the home of the so-called Clementine Liturgy and of the Syriac Anaphora of the Twelve Apostles, which is today generally re garded as the prototype of the Liturgy of Chrysostom, which was used in the Syrian capital probably even before the Council of Ephesus. In the so-called Liturgy of Mark, Alexandria created its oldest formula, which is attested by papyrus texts of the fourth and fifth centuries and influenced the prayers of the Euchologion attributed to Bishop Serapion of Thmuis (d. after 362 ); as the Liturgy of Cyril, it is still used by the Copts. Alongside the Liturgy of Mark there later appeared those of Basil and Gregory, which were taken over from Asia Minor or Syria and translated into Coptic. The Coptic liturgical formulas were finally passed on to the Ethiopians, who translated them into their national tongue and enriched them with several anaphoras. The two formulas of the Byzan tine LiturgyЧthose of Basil and ChrysostomЧwere not original cre ations of the imperial capital. The first, long preferred to the second, must actually be linked with its namesake, who had elaborated a liturgy already in use at Caesarea. The second, named for Chrysostom only from the tenth century, could very probably have come to Constan tinople before 431 in the form of the previously mentioned Anaphora of the Twelve Apostles and been reorganized by Bishop Nestorius. Of all the eastern liturgies, the Byzantine experienced the farthest expan sion, especially among the Slavonic peoples, in whose evangelization it was used in the Old Slavonic translation. Among the characteristic fea tures of the oriental liturgies, as these became known in the fourth and fifth centuries, must first be mentioned their understanding of the liturgy as a participation in the angels' heavenly service of God, which was further elaborated to a dramatically fashioned mystery celebration. In this the Christological discussion of the age found its expression in the stressing of the salvific deeds of the Redeemer and of the omnipo tence of the divine Logos: the liturgy became the festive representation of the priestly action of Christ, and the liturgical acts became "pictures and symbols communicating the reality of the historical work of salva tion, especially of the resurrection" (Schulz)Чan understanding of the liturgy which was especially promoted by John Chrysostom and Theo dore of Mopsuestia.

Since Western Christianity at that time did not know any plurality of languages suited to the liturgy and, apart from Rome, no leading ecclesiastical see of the rank of Antioch or Alexandria could impose its authority, there were lacking here two of the factors, important in the East, for the differentiation of liturgies. Hence all western liturgies were linked by the one Latin language and it is natural to assume that before the completion of the two great liturgical types of the WestЧthe Galli- can and the Romano-AfricanЧthere existed a general basic western form, from which Rome relatively early dissociated itself, whereas the Gallican RiteЧto its subspecies belonged the Old Spanish, the Ambro- sian, the Old Gallic, and the Celtic liturgiesЧlater opened itself to oriental influences. To the general traits of the Gallic type belongs a relatively uniform order of the Mass, which knew prayers recurring virtually unchanged, and gave, not a fixed Canon, but a proper formula for every Sunday and every feast. In many prayers there appeared a deviation from old tradition, as, for example, in the preface, which often abandoned the character of the earliest prayer of thanks in favor of a prayer of petition. Also in the prayer part, with its inclination to ver bosely solemn statement, was seen the influence from the East, which is found also in the rite of the presentation of the offerings, placed before the beginning of Mass. And finally the delight in splendid execution of the rites also recalls similar traits of oriental liturgies. The effect of the confrontation with Arianism can be observed as a striking peculiarity especially in the Spanish and the Gallican liturgies: in this the idea of Christ's mediatorship was pushed into the background and the prayer addressed to Christ was more strongly emphasized. To this corre sponded again a preferred worship of the Trinity, just as the Byzantine Liturgy knew it. Only in the Milanese Liturgy was Roman influence, in addition to these general Gallic features, found relatively early, since as early as the time of Ambrose it used the Canon of the Roman Mass. The originally Greek liturgy of Rome completed as early as the third cen tury its translation, begun in the third century, into Latin c. 370, with the introduction of the Latin Canon. Its most important characteristic was its adhering to the idea of Christ's mediatorship, which was man ifested in the doxologies of the Mass prayers, which ended only "per Christum," and the prayer addressed to Christ was left to the sphere of popular piety. Furthermore, it gave up dramatic and poetic elements, such as the hymn, in the structure of the liturgy and thereby obtained a feature of objective and sober solemnity, which rather impeded a greater activity of the people. Only the later liturgical exchange with the sphere of the Gallican Liturgy produced a greater liveliness.

New Features in the Sacramental Liturgy

The new missionary situation of the fourth century first operated in the broader area of the baptismal liturgy. Here especially the early institu tion of the catechumenate fell into an almost startling crisis, which, however, stood in a certain connection with the public recognition of Christianity. Whereas previously the acceptance of a pagan into the catechumenate presupposed in every respect a seriously intended and seriously undertaken commitment to the new faith, to which corre-

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sponded an immediately following intensive preparation, usually of three years, for the reception of baptism, now indeed the number stead ily grew of those who asked admission to the catechumenate. But the number of pagans who made of it only a preliminary profession of Christianity grew also and at first deferred the reception of baptism, often until they fell into a sickness that endangered life or even, as Chrysostom said, "to the final breath," so that in a flagrantly abused development baptism became for them a sort of Sacrament of the Dead. The question as to the causes of this development permits several answers. Not only Emperors such as Constantine and Theodosius were among those who postponed their baptism, but also Basil, Gregory Nazianzen, Chrysostom, Ambrose, and others must be included: in their case, on the one hand their involvement with the perils of their profane calling, on the other hand the awareness of a lack of personal maturity made the postponement of baptism seem advisa ble. But in the case of the greatest number what was probably decisive was the fact that with admittance to the ranks of the catechumens a person was identified publicly as a Christian (with the accruing advan tages) and that now, out of convenience or the fear of personal failure, one could evade the moral testing firmly demanded by Christian preach ing after the reception of baptism. The consequence was a suspicious increase in the number of merely nominal Christians within the com munities. The Church drew conclusions from such a situation and reconstructed the previous order of catechumens, separating the really serious seekers of baptism from the one large class of catechumens. But for one who joined the catechumenate the former manner of admission was complemented by an introductory catechesis, which was supposed to give him a first knowledge of the new way to salvation and place him in the position to receive with some profit the teaching supplied in the normal preaching to which he had access. To this catechesis was joined the rite of admission, which consisted of an imposition of hands, joined with a signing of the cross {consignatio) and, at least in North Africa and Rome, the presentation of salt. If the catechumen was not then in duced to take part in the direct preparation for the reception of baptism, he belonged thereafter to the anonymous crowd of those to whom applied the bishops' annual admonition to have themselves enrolled (apographesthai, nomen dare) at the beginning of Lent in the list of those immediately seeking baptism. For this group of photizomenoi, com- petentes, or electi (Rome) the Church supplied an instruction and a reli gious training intended for them; the baptismal catecheses preserved from East and West give information on the content and goal of this training. The instruction included, as earlier, an introduction to Scrip ture and the communicating of the Creed (traditio symboli) and of the Lord's Prayer, both of which were learned by heart so that they could be "given back" in the solemn baptismal profession. The instruction was accompanied by repeated prayer, impositions of hands, and signing with the cross, which were intended to strengthen the candidate on his way to baptism and shield him from demonic influences. The length of this preparation, despite the three years so often mentioned in the sources, was in practice reduced to one Lent, and hence, in spite of all the efforts of the bishops, a really effective "practice in Christianity" was often not realized. With the completion of the christianization of the Mediterra nean peoples and the now almost exclusively practiced baptism of in fants, this form of the catechumenate came to an end. The mission among the Germans, with its preference for tribal baptism, had to de velop new ways and methods for the training in the faith and life of a Christian.

The growing number of Christian families involved at this period an increasing extension and importance for infant baptism, but not without discussion within the Church regarding the most appropriate time and a dispute with Pelagianism over its legitimacy. In the East Gregory Na2ian2en and Chrysostom especially championed it on the ground that it bestowed on children as yet free of personal sins the status of children of God and "seal and consecration." In the West Augustine defended infant baptism as an old tradition and justified it theologically against Donatists and PelagiansЧin regard to the last-named especially through his doctrine of original sin. A proper baptismal ritual for infants was not developed; the rite of admission of the decaying catechumenate was retained for themЧimpositions of hands, signing with the cross, presen tation of the blessed saltЧand the sponsors or parents who took care of them during the baptism made the answers to the baptismal questions and the redditio symbolic

In the fourth and fifth centuries the importance of the so-called Dis cipline of the Secret increased; but, of course, its meaning was not entirely grasped when persons understood it as a mere keeping secret the sacred texts and rites. Moreover, the Creed and the Lord's Prayer were familiar from Christian literature and the Bible, and the publication of mystagogic catecheses also spread the knowledge of the baptis mal and Eucharistie liturgies. Rather, one should not speak of the mys teries in the presence of those not called or admit them to their celebra tion. The "not called" were all those who lacked the required means for the right understanding and experiencing of the mysteries. But this possibility was acquired only by "initiation," by the performance of the worship. Anyone who had not yet obtained the status of child of God could not, according to Theodore of Mopsuestia, pray the Lord's Prayer meaningfully and effectively, and so the ultimate meaning of baptism and the Eucharist was only directly made known to the neophyte after his initiation. It must not be denied that influences from the realm of the non-Christian understanding of mysteries were effective, but they could be allowed by the Church all the more unhesitatingly, the more these mysteries themselves lost in real significance.

The Eucharistie celebration also admitted new elements in the fourth and fifth centuries and through continued development in individual points drew ever closer to the form of the "Mass." First, the Liturgy of the Word of God, usually with three readings from the Old Testament, the Apostle, and the gospel and the sung texts interpolated between them, obtained its definitive structure. The readings, which began im mediately after the entry of the clergy and the greeting of the congrega tion, were proclaimed by the lector or, in the case of the gospel, by the deacon, while the psalm between them was sung by a cantor from the ambo. In the psalm, after each segment, the response sung by the people was inserted; in the first chant it was taken from the psalm itself, but in the second it was the "alleluia verse,"27 which led into the gospel. In the territory of Antioch there was developed in this place the an- tiphonal chant, in which the people, divided into two choirs, alternately sang the verses of the psalm.28 The homily of the bishop or priest was followed by the intercessionsЧprayers introduced by oremus for the catechumens, the penitents, the faithful, and the whole world, to which the community in the EastЧJerusalem and AntiochЧsometimes re plied with the cry Kyrie eleison.29 The custom was adopted by the West and here in the form of the Kyrie-litany took the place of the customary intercessions; it was finally transferred to the beginning of the Mass, where it accompanied the entry of the clergy and ended with a prayer.30 The still remaining oremus of the intercessions thus became the intro duction to the prayer over the gifts of bread and wine, which rep resented the transition to the Liturgy of Sacrifice.

Both the Anaphora of the East and the Canon of the Latin Mass at first display a uniform and obvious structure. The great Eucharistie Prayer of thanksgiving was proclaimed aloud to the silent congregationЧthis was still the meaning of the term praefatio when it was used for the entire Canon31Чand it was interrupted only by the Trisagion {Sanctus), adopted from the East, c. 400. In contrast to the East, the West at this time produced a large quantity of prefaces in the narrower sense, which called attention to one or another topical motive for the Eucharistie Prayer of thanksgiving.32 The central idea of the entire prayer of thanks was the presentation of the sacrifice, which was referred to in a pre paratory way in the Te igitur and Quam oblationem of the Roman Canon and was then completed with the words of institution, which at the same time effected the transubstantiation of the gifts of bread and wine. The following prayers, Supra quae and Supplices, renewed the offering and asked for the definitive acceptance of the sacrifice by the Father; the solemn final doxology with the people's Amen of affirmation concluded the Canon. In the Antiochene family of liturgies after the words of institution, according to the baptismal catecheses of Cyril, God was called upon in a special prayer, the so-called transubstantiation epiclesis, to send the Holy Spirit on the sacrificial gifts in order to make them the flesh and blood of the Lord, and thus they brought the recipient to salvation. The clear make-up of the Canon underwent a certain confu sion through the placing of the intercessions before and after the anam nesis, for which again the East provided the model. In this the offering of the sacrifice was joined to prayers for the local and the Universal Church and their clergy and special martyrs and saints, with whom people understood themselves as constituting one great community; also inserted were names of those who wished to have a concern of their own included in the sacrifice; finally, especially in Masses for the dead, were mentioned the names of the deceased for whom a remembrance was desired in this sacrifice.

While the Communion Rite of the Eucharistic celebration in the east ern liturgies underwent considerable expansion through the acceptance of several new individual rites and of the accompanying prayers, it remained emphatically simple in the Latin Mass. The breaking of the bread, the kiss of peace, and the Lord's Prayer were followed immedi ately by the communion of clergy and faithful under both species, the deacon ministering the cup. The reception of the Eucharist by all partic ipants in the celebration was the normal thing in the West longer than in the East. After Communion the deacon, with the admonition "Bow your head," announced the prayer of dismissal, the oratio super populum, which was then a part of every Mass. But, probably as early as the fifth century, the Postcommunio was created, the last of the three prayers, which, as the conclusion of the Kjr/V-litany, of the preparation of the gifts, and of the Communion Rite, must, because of the precision of their statements and their stylistic purity, rightfully rank as preeminent creations of the Roman Liturgy. Later, together with the prefaces, they were collected in the so-called Sacramentaries, which accordingly rep resent the texts of the prayers to be uttered at Mass by the celebrant.

At first glance it seems surprising that the Church of the fourth and fifth centuries clung with a fundamental stubbornness to the externally strict penitential discipline hitherto in use, even though the growing throng of average persons of this period would lead one to expect instead a moderation here, just as in the catechumenate. But the tes timony of the sources is clear: in addition to a certain further develop ment in secondary details, the previous order was fixed ever more by canonical rules through episcopal letters, synodal decrees, and decretals, and thereby a flexible administration was rendered difficult; above all, the principle of the nonrepetition of penance remained inviolable. Even though a surer criterion was lacking as to which offenses in indi vidual cases were subject to public ecclesiastical penance and which were not, and though Augustine also stressed that the gravity of the offense was to be determined by the intention of the sinner, in practice there was agreement on a rather uniform catalogue of such sins: idolatry, heresy and schism, murder, abortion, adultery, serious theft, implacable hatred, slander, drunkenness, attendance at immoral theatri cal performancesЧthese seemed more or less completely crimes deserv ing of penance in the appropriate enumerations of these decades.

And so, as earlier, the sinner who on his own initiative opened him self up to his bishop or whose offense was notorious, was initiated into the class of penitents at a public Mass by the formal sentence of the bishop. Since he was now no longer a full member of the ecclesiastical community, he, like a catechumen, could attend only the Liturgy of the Word or at least he could no longer offer his gifts for the sacrifice and receive Communion. In the East, which in general tended toward a milder practice, the effort was made to strengthen the penitent, through the elaboration of several degrees of penance in his desire for atone ment and by means of a penance priest who took charge of him, at least at Constantinople, to ease his gradual return to full membership in the Church. During the time of penance imposed on him, the length of which depended on the gravity of the offense and on the penitential zeal and hence also on the judgment of the bishop, and differed from place to place, the penitents often received the special blessing of the bishop during the liturgy. The date for the beginning of the period of penance was at first the Monday after Pentecost, then, probably from the fifth century, the Monday after the First Sunday of Lent. It ended with the solemn act of reinstatement, the reconciliatio, which, except in cases of necessity, was reserved to the bishop. It ordinarily took place on Holy Thursday, and was inserted between the gospel and the Offertory procession. After an address the bishop prayed that God would give the penitent back to the Church and then laid his hand on him as he knelt before him and raised him up.

Membership in the class of penitents involved for the one concerned, especially in the West, a heavy psychological burden and many restric tions in his private and professional life. The public nature of penance produced a demand that the average Christian of the day was often not equal to, even if the discretion of the bishop, the encouragement of the clergy, and the prayers of intercession of the community could provide help to him. The penitential duties, such as fasting, prohibition of mar riage during the time of penance, the forbidding of marital relations among those already married, often lasted for five, ten, or twenty years, and in some cases, especially in Spain, which was inclined to rigorism, for the remainder of life. Any failure during the period of penance led to the permanent exclusion from the ecclesiastical community, which on occasion some were not even willing to grant again to the dying. The heaviest burden of all perhaps was the fact that his previous status clung to the reconciled penitent for the rest of his life. Hence, for example, not only was admittance into the clergy forever denied him, but as a husband he had also to refuse marital intercourse, he could not hold any public office or practice specified professions, including military service; in short, he was forever compelled to a lifestyle which other wise only a monk would have freely adopted. Again, a nonobser- vance of these duties ranked as a relapse, which involved perpetual excommunication.

The cause of this rigorism, especially in the Western Church, must be seen most pressingly in the adherence to an understanding of the Church, which aspired to see the communio sanctorum, in the strict sense realized in every community in the changed situation of the fourth and fifth centuries and to assure it with severe sanctions. Naturally, this attitude laid more stress on the exact execution of the penalties imposed than on the encouraging of the desire for atonement in the penitent. Augustine represents a praiseworthy exception, since his personal reli gious pilgrimage, his theological thought, and his awareness of his pas toral responsibility inclined him to a more forgiving outlook. To be sure, he attributed to the penitential discipline a position of importance in the life of the community, but he never lost sight of the fact that the Church in the world will always include "wheat and weeds" and he defended just this sort of Church against the puritanism of the Donatists. The consequences of such strictness were not absent. Alongside the postponement of baptism proceeded the postponement of public ecclesiastical penance, but now the Church, in contrast to the case of baptism, combated this only slightly, even to the extent of finally advising it in special cases, especially in still young men. Now the sinner was invited to make his entire life a constant preparation for penance and reconciliation, which were reserved for advanced age. Thus the period of penance was gradually restricted to the brief span of mortal sickness, and reconciliation took place shortly before death. To be sure, the principle that ecclesiastical penance could not be repeated was saved, but its pastoral sense was undermined. The consequences of this development were, seen as a whole, so negative that eventually a basi cally new solution, private penance, became inevitable.

During the fourth and fifth centuries more energetic efforts of the Church become discernible to incorporate marriage and the wedding celebration into the liturgy, especially since they were included, more than other segments in the course of life, in pagan or profane custom. Increasingly, features of this custom were blamed, such as some dances on the occasion of a wedding, or the effort was made to have the custom of crowning the spouses rendered acceptable by a Christian interpreta tion. At the same time it was urged that the contracting of marriage be publicly blessed by bishop or priest. In this regard the first steps toward the development of a liturgical rite of marriage become clear. In the East the bishop or priest was invited to the celebration of marriage in a private house and there he pronounced a prayer of blessing over the bridal pair; it was surrounded by the singing of psalms, but definite liturgical texts are not to be found before the eighth century. A blessing of the marriage crown and the crowning by the priest are mentioned in the fourth century, and they finally gave the Byzantine marriage rite its mme,stephanoma.so At Alexandria the joining of the hands of the bridal pair by the priest was customary toward the end of the fourth century. In the West the Ambrosiaster first said something vague about a benedic- tio at a wedding; then Pope Siricius and Ambrose mentioned the custom of the velatio, in which the priest spread a veil over the heads of the bridal couple. The Praedestinatus (c. 430-440) first mentioned a Eucharistic celebration in connection with marriage. A canonical rule for the blessing of the marriage by the priest existed at this time, however, only for clerics of the lower orders, to whom marriage was permitted.

The Liturgical Year

The position of Easter, now as earlier the mysterium praecipuum and the excellentior festivitas of all celebrations which the liturgy observed, was now also brought to prominence in public life, since the Christian Em perors from Valentinian I honored the day by a special amnesty for prisoners, though certain serious crimes were not included in it. In the religious and theological understanding of the feast a certain change occurred in the East, since, following the Trinitarian and Christological discussions of the age, the suffering of the Redeemer was deemphasized in favor of the idea of the resurrection. In the West, however, its origi nal meaning was still retained: in the Easter Triduum from Good Friday to Easter Sunday, "the mystery of the death and resurrection" was celebrated, whereby a new life was given to mankind.

With the fourth century the Easter season entered the final phase of its organization as a great Easter cycle, since now the feast was preceded by a rather long period of preparationЧLent. The Council of Nicaea mentioned for the first time the Tessarakoste without any details of its content; Eusebius spoke of an ascetical exercise of forty days before Easter; Cyril of Jerusalem, of a metanoia of forty days. During his stay in Rome in 340 Athanasius discovered the custom of a forty-days' fast. However, the exact number of forty fast days established itself only after a longer development. The preachers of the time, especially Augustine and Pope Leo I, give information on the liturgical structure and meaning of this Lent. As in no other section of the liturgical year, the weekdays of Lent gradually obtained a public liturgy, which was celebrated at Rome as a stational liturgy. Every day people met for the statio, the fixed place of this celebration at one of the churches of the regions of Rome; the Pope himself conducted it and the many faithful who attended received Communion. The fast accompanying Lent was not prescribed in the modern sense by the Church; rather it was a clear form of curtailment, which knew only one meal, the evening coena, in which wine and meat were renounced. Far greater weight was attrib uted, however, to self-discipline, to recollection and inner contempla tion, which should prove themselves in genuine love of neighbor, read iness for personal sacrifice in almsgiving, and reconciliation. Since at the same time Lent was the preferred time for the immediate preparation of the competentes or electi for the reception of baptism and of the penitents for their reconciliatio, the liturgy of certain days was clearly influenced in its order of readings by this fact. For example, the catechumens were probably admitted to the stational liturgy on the third, fourth, and fifth Sundays of Lent in order then to learn the text of the baptismal Creed and of the Lord's Prayer. Naturally, the last week was conditioned by the theme of the Redeemer's Passion, which however was liturgically fashioned variously according to the region. In Jerusalem were chosen those readings which reported the events of the Passion Week by the day and hour, corresponding to the biblical accounts. In Spain and North Africa a continuous reading of the history of the Passion was compiled, while Rome decided for the entire reading according to the four gospels on four different days.

The Pentecost, that is, the Easter Season, was concluded with the fiftieth day after Easter, which was at the same time devoted to the recalling of the descent of the Holy Spirit and the Ascension of the Lord. As early as the fourth century, however, the remembrance of

Christ's Ascension was separated from this feast and given a feast of its own on the fortieth day of the Pentecost.

The liturgical year gained its most significant enrichment at this pe riod through an exchange between East and West, in which the West took from the East the feast of the Lord's Epiphany and gave it Christmas; since both celebrations obtained a prolongation and a time of preparation, the basis was laid for the second festive cycle of the liturgical year. The first sure report on a feast which had as its content the birth of Christ and was celebrated on 25 December is found in a list of Christian feasts, the so-called Chronographus of 354, which took this notice from a model going back to the age of Constantine (336). The date of 25 December, for which no one at all could appeal to a solid historical tradition, was probably not "worked out" on the basis of an astronomically symbolic idea. Most probably the choice of this date was motivated by the feast of the birth of the pagan Sun-god, which the Emperor Aurelian introduced at Rome from the East after 274 and which thereafter was observed as dies natalis solis invicti on this day as a high civil holiday. To this Sol invictus the Christians consciously con trasted their Lord as the new light, the new sun, the sol iustitiae, as the one whom the sermons of the Fathers and the texts of the liturgy cele brated on his dies natalis. The sacramentum Christi nativitatis was ob served as early as c. 360 in Africa. For the natalis Salvatoris Ambrose composed the hymn Intende qui regis Israel; for Filastrius of Brescia (d. 397) the day was a very high feast, which was also celebrated at Aquileia in the time of Bishop Chromatius (c. 387-407) and was likewise known in Spain before the end of the fourth century, while Paulinus of Nola may have attested it less for Gaul than for South Italy. In the East Christmas was first accepted in Cappadocia, Constantinople, and Syria in the penultimate decade of the fourth century, while it was not re ceived until c. 430 in Jerusalem and Egypt, that is, in the regions which first knew the Epiphany, and for this reason occasionally the mystery of the birth was separated from the festive content of the Epiphany.

Just as epiphaneia in the area of Hellenistic religions meant the arrival or public manifestation of a god or of a god-king, so the corresponding basic idea of the Christian feast of the Epiphany was the appearance of the Lord in the world, his divine manifestation before mankind. Some times this Epiphany was seen as realized in his birth, as, for example, originally in Jerusalem, Antioch, and perhaps also in Syria, but also in his baptism in the Jordan, as in Egypt, or finally in the homage of the magi and the miracle at the marriage at Cana, as Epiphanius of Salamis testifies. The fact that 6 January was chosen for the feastday was certainly conditioned by missionary considerations. Thus a feast of the winter solstice celebrated around the same date in Egypt, or that of a miraculous fountain in various cities of the East could be christianized by the declaration that in Christ the true sun has shone or that the water of baptism (photismos) has brought true enlightenment to man. Then, when the Roman Christmas was received into the local liturgies, the baptism of Jesus remained the central content of the Epiphany feast, which also made 6 January a baptismal day and was expressed in a second name for the feast (ta phota), while the celebration of the birth, joined with the adoration of the magi, was reserved for 25 December.

The reception of the Epiphany in the West occurred with no uni formity as to time and place and with differing emphases on the concept of the feast. It is earliest traceable for Gaul, where at first it was proba bly celebrated as adventus salvatoris in the original meaning of epiphaneia. Paulinus of Nola (d. 431) first mentions, in addition to the adoration of the magi, the baptism in the Jordan and the marriage at Cana as ingredients of the content of the feast. In Upper Italy Am brose was the earliest witness for the feast; with him the baptism of Jesus was as much in the foreground as with Chromatius of Aquileia and Maximus of Turin, while a little later at Ravenna the tria miraculaЧadoration of the magi, baptism in the Jordan, and miracle of CanaЧtogether were regarded as the content of the feast. For Augus tine the Epiphany was equal in rank with Christmas, the day on which the Lord made himself known to the pagans, who did homage to him in the magi. Rome at the earliest accepted the Epiphany under Pope Innocent I (401-417) and, like the African and Spanish Churches, sepa rated the adoration of the magi from the content of Christmas.

When both feasts were expanded through gradually growing celebra tions in preparation and prolongation, the elaboration of a special Christmas cycle was introduced. A first step toward this appeared in Jerusalem, where the celebration of the feast at the time of the pilgrim Egeria began with a pilgrimage to Bethlehem, which was connected with a midnight Mass in Constantine's Church of the Nativity. After the return in the early morning there followed the daytime Mass in Jerusalem. Later this type of a first Mass was adopted at Rome as the preliminary celebration, when people arrived at the church in honor of Mary built by Pope Sixtus III (432-440) on the Esquiline at midnight for the liturgy in a chapel in front of a model of the grotto at Bethlehem (ad praesepe). Christmas obtained an after-celebration when its octave day was raised to prominence as the feast of the Natale s. Mariae, which by its very name indicated its connection with the Christmas mystery. One may also speak of an after-celebration for the Epiphany, since before the seventh century the gospel readings of the following Sundays and, to a degree, of the weekdays, took up the basic theme of the Epiphany and reported the signs by which Christ displayed his glory (John 2:ll).

A period of preparation for the Epiphany or Christmas respectively, in the sense of the later Advent, first appeared, not at Rome, but in Spain and Gaul. Hilary of Poitiers attests that people prepared for the Epiphany per trium septimanarum secretum spatium; the Council of Zaragoza (380) prescribed for the time from 17 December to 6 JanuaryЧhence likewise for three weeksЧa daily attendance at church, and a little later a letter from the circle of the monk Bachiarius urged spending the same period in prayer and fasting.77 Toward the end of the fifth century there appeared in the fasting regulations of Bishop Per petuus of Tours (d. 490) a decree that required a fast three times a week for the period from Martinmas to Christmas and hence at the same time provided the first sure testimony for the existence of Christmas in Gaul.78 Similar admonitions to prepare for the feast of the Lord's birth by prayer and continence are found in Maximus of Turin and Peter Chrysologus of Ravenna. It was only in the course of the sixth century that Rome created an Advent liturgy in the strict sense by the introduc tion of five Advent Sundays, which Gregory the Great reduced to four and thereby brought to a conclusion the development of the second festive cycle within the liturgical year.79

77 Hilary of Poitiers, CSEL 65, I6f. Council of Caesaraug; can. 4; Bachiarius, Ep. ad Marcell., PL, Suppl. I, 1039f.

79 Gregory of Tours, Hist. Franc. 10, 21, 6.

81 W. Croce, "Die Adventsliturgie im Lichte der geschichtlichen Entwicklung," ZKTh 76 (1954), 257-296, 440-472.

CHAPTERI8 Preaching and Piety

Catechesis and Preaching

Every attempt to answer the question of how the clergy of the Church of the Empire saw and carried out the pastoral duty of preaching must remain unsatisfactory because of the special situation of the sources. To be sure, approximately 3,000 sermons and catecheses are extant from the period between Nicaea and Chalcedon, but they come from only some thirty authors, hence from a fraction of those who labored as pastors in these 125 years. And more than half of the stock that has been preserved belongs to two bishops, Chrysostom and Augustine, and so it is not representative for a view of the entire clergy of the time. The criteria for this selection were mostly the quality of the sermons or at least the reputation of the author, but occasionally probably only

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chance preserved something. The average member of the pastoral clergy surely made frequent use of the models of recognized preachers. The ecclesiastical catechesis was now also exclusively one for adults and embraced the totality of their instruction and practice, through which the unbaptized were made conversant by an official of the Church with the testimonies of faith and the moral demands which should determine the life of a real Christian. Apparently, there was no special catechesis for children before the end of the sixth century, although the practice of infant baptism was steadily growing.3 In families with a rather long Christian tradition, however, there was the private domestic catechesis, by which father or mother gave the child a first introduction into the Christian life and faith, if, in accord with the custom of the day, the reception of baptism was deferred until later. The Church urgently referred to such a duty of the parents, especially Chrysostom and Au gustine; the latter even saw here "an ecclesiastical and, so to speak, episcopal task" conferred on the paterfamilias. The official catechesis was more and more reserved to the clergy: only for the East are isolated lay catechists mentioned, and a special aptitude was demanded in them. At Antioch it was mostly imparted by priests, and the same must be presupposed for the instruction at the Roman titular churches. At Carthage a deacon was entrusted with the introductory catechesis at the admission into the catechumenate; priests probably likewise shared in the baptismal catechesis for the competentes in North Africa, since they also had the right to preach. In the majority of other localities in East and West, however, the bishop was regarded as the teacher of the catechumens; the extant baptismal catecheses of this period came partly from priests, partly from bishops.

Catechesis was determined, as regards its purpose, content, and method, entirely in relation to its missionary context. In his De

catechizandis rudibus Augustine gave a systematic guidance for the Carthaginian deacon Deogratias, which influenced practical catechetics down to modern times and has retained its freshness to this day. In the two models which he appended of a longer and a shorter introductory catechesis can be read how he wished to see his advice carried out. Augustine did not underestimate the difficulties and relapses which often tended to demoralize the catechist, but he felt they could be overcome if he let himself be led by the joy of the heart. In this the catechist must adapt himself to the individuality of his hearers, who often brought along very different assumptions, each according to his level of education, to their receptiveness to religious or other motives, which induced them to seek admission into the catechumenate.

The kernel of all catechesis, according to Augustine, had to be the history of salvation, as it was revealed by Scripture in the dealings of God with meta. It must be made known to the hearer in its most striking events, in the creation of Adam, the deluge, the covenant of God with Abraham, the priestly kingship of David, the deliverance from the Babylonian Captivity, and the all-decisive Christ-event. This narratio of the mirabilia Dei should show not only the inner connection of the Old and New Testaments, but impart a universal view of all history, as it was framed in God's plan of salvation. When the catechist understood judi ciously how to make the inner connection between the history of salva tion and the religious route of the catechumen, he would represent to him the love of God for mankind and for him as the ultimate motive of the divine work of salvation, which reached its climax in Christ's death and resurrection. The Christ-event especially was to be made known with such warmth and forcefulness that the catechumen came to the faith by hearing, achieved hope by believing, found love by hoping. In a last exhortatio he should be admonished to guard faith, hope, and love from the allurements of that world out of which he came to the Church and not let himself be led astray by those baptized persons who again succumbed to this world. For the Augustinian catechesis it is also characteristic that it was entirely oriented to the positive exposition of salvation history and renounced polemic and rhetorical ornament. Un fortunately, no complete series of Augustine's Sermones ad competentes from any one Lent has been preserved, but only three separate explana tions of the baptismal creed and the Lord's Prayer. The first are by their very nature chiefly dogmatically instructive, but thoroughly alive, clear, and impressively formulated, even lightened by the remark that the catechumens should soon have no fears of failure in the trial recita tion of the text to be learned by heart, since he was still their father, not a schoolmaster with the rod. In the explanations of the Lord's Prayer the moral exhortation prevails; they are all the more stamped by the unmistakable tone of Augustinian intensity and warmth of statement, which wins and convinces, because the catechist is himself convinced.

From the area of Greek speech no work of equal rank with De catechizandis rudibus has been preserved. Gregory of Nyssa, to be sure, in his Logos catechetikos, intended for the Christian teacher, also dealt with methodical questions, such as the adaptation to the individual situa tion of the hearers, but in contrast to Augustine he preferred a philo sophical justification of the truths of faith and let the scriptural and theological foundation retreat unduly into the background.

In the baptismal catecheses attributed to Bishop Cyril of Jerusalem, however, there is realized Augustine's central concern: to make salva tion history the center of the instructions in the preparation of the candidates for baptism. The dogmatic exposition was carefully joined to the moral catechesis, occasionally apologetic remarks were inserted, and especially the concluding mystagogic catecheses were very clearly struc tured. The simple language, the appreciative entry into the situation of the hearers, the clever, deliberate manner of the presentation make these catecheses an especially informative model of Early Christian preaching.

John Chrysostom and Theodore of Mopsuestia, both outstanding representatives of the Antiochene catechesis, made prominent two as pects of it, since the first preferred the moral catechesis more in accord with his inclinations, while the other preferred the sacramental catechesis, which was apparently applied to hearers with a certain level of education. Chrysostom, the majority of whose extant catecheses come from Easter Week, untiringly inculcated in the newly baptized that they must remain neophytoi for the rest of their lives, and for this the Spirit given to them in baptism qualified them. The explanation of the rite of Christian initiation by Theodore of Mopsuestia emphatically set off the eschatalogical character of baptism and Eucharist: with bap tism the "new life" of the Christian begins, and the Eucharist nourishes it, while letting him participate in the death and resurrection of Christ and thus arrive at his own resurrection.

In the mystagogic catecheses of Ambrose of Milan their inner rela tionship to eastern ideas is striking. Like Cyril of Jerusalem, he placed great importance on the understanding of the symbolic content of the sacramental rites, which he tried to explain by means of the typological interpretation of Old Testament events, figures, and individual books, especially the Song of Songs and Psalm 23.

During the real catechumenate, now for the most part curtailed to one Lent, Christian preaching could not be satisfied with the catecheti cal introduction here provided. In addition to it, an intensive follow-up was necessary in order to extend the laying of the first foundation of a knowledge of the faith and of moral conduct and to deepen and con solidate it. This task was the lot of preaching, which for that reason long retained a missionary character and in an ever new onset had to free the newly won faithful from stubborn pagan custom and to seek to assure them in regard to pagan opposition that was still flaring up. With the increasing certainty that the future would belong to the Christian pro fession, these antipagan features of preaching grew in severity, which in some preachers could assume a denunciatory character. In cities having a strong Jewish element in the population, such as Antioch, the anti- Jewish preaching was of great importance, and it too could display a strongly polemic tone. The Trinitarian and Christological controver sies and the confrontation with Donatism and Pelagianism likewise found expression in preaching and occasioned a large number of dog matic sermons. The topic of the sermon was expanded by the now powerfully developing cult of martyrs and saints, which introduced the laudatory sermon, the encomium or panegyric respectively, into Chris tian eloquence. Burning questions of Christian behavior, raised by the day-to-day care of souls, confer on many a sermon a marked exhortatory feature. Finally, special occasions, such as church dedications, anni versaries of episcopal ordination, and funerals of individuals, mostly of high-ranking personalities, gave the bishop opportunity for sermons of a special type, which were often influenced by their model in the profane sphere. The highest rank of all forms of preaching belonged at this period to the homily in the strict sense, which interpreted either entire books or rather long sections of Scripture or even a single word of Scripture and thereby connected specific concerns of pastoral care.

In the Greek East a pupil of Lucian of Antioch, the Arian Asterius the Sophist (d. after 341), who had offered sacrifice in the persecution of Diocletian and therefore was excluded from any clerical function for the rest of his life, was an early representative of the Scriptural preaching of the time. Since the right to preach was more and more attached to the office of priest or bishop from the fourth century, Asterius was one of the last "lay preachers," whose activity was censured by Athanasius as usurpation. Of his commentary on the psalms, attested by Jerome and Theodore of Mopsuestia, most recently thirty-one homilies on Psalms 1 to 25 could be identified, which were delivered a long time after Nicaea to an audience that cannot be specifically localized. The depreciating judgments of Athanasius and Theodore on their quality stands in op position to the remark of Jerome that they were held in high repute among the author's Arian followers. The Easter homilies of Asterius, thus far investigated in greater detail, justify a more positive evaluation; the sermons reveal in their often spirited form the trained rhetor and are penetrated by a theologically notable and high notion of the Easter mystery. The sixteen extant sermons of another Asterius also surpass the average. As Bishop of Amaseia (d. after 410) he was famous for his special homiletic activity. The six real homilies prefer New Testament pericopes, which are suited for moral interpretation; also the occasional sermons on the cult of martyrs, on fasting, against avarice and the cele bration of Kalends show him as a pastor who understood the stylistic rules of rhetoric but feared their excesses.

Of the Cappadocians, Basil likewise drew upon the psalms especially for preaching on Scripture; his fifteen extant homilies were probably taken down by stenographers and published later by him. They inter pret verse by verse in a lively language, which did not hesitate to admit improvisation and again and again looked into the situation of the con gregation of Caesarea. This was especially impressed by the homilies on the work of the six days, which explained the account of the creation by a continual comparison with the state of knowledge of contemporary science; the colorful descriptions of nature not only charmed their first hearers: Ambrose used these homilies for his work of the same title, and Augustine did the same in a Latin translation for his De Genesi ad lit teram. The more thematic sermons of Basil attest his deep familiarity with Scripture, from which the pastor aimed to construct his commu nity. On the other hand, Gregory Nazianzen, whom Jerome called his teacher in the exegesis of Scripture and a later age would call the "Chris tian Demosthenes," admitted only one exegetical homily into the collec tion of his "talks," since he probably wanted to display as models of Christian eloquence only those addresses which he delivered on special occasions, such as funerals, ecclesiastical solemnities, striking incidents of his own life. Here he was pleased to show forth his rhetorical train ing, without however thereby essentially impairing the vivacity of the discourse and the personal note. The twenty-six extant addresses of Gregory of Nyssa are likewise mostly occasional sermons, in which an all too great space is allotted to contemporary rhetoric, so that at times they weary one with their pathos and their exaggerations. The examples which he delighted to take from natural science and medicine were concessions to the taste of the age; the preferred explanation of philo sophical and theological problems and of controverted questions corre sponds to Gregory's gifts and inclination. The exegesis of biblical textsЧthere are six homilies on Ecclesiastes, fifteen on the Song of

Songs, eight on Matthew 5:1-10, and six on the Lord's Prayer Чfor the most part followed the homiletic form only externally and made abun dant use of allegory for the explanation of Gregory's ascetical and theological concerns, but on the other hand surprisingly left the reli gious life of the community in the background.

The homiletic achievement of John Chrysostom represents the un questioned climax of Greek Scriptural preaching of the age. In more than 700 preserved homilies he, for the most part when he was a priest at Antioch, interpreted from the Old Testament parts of Genesis, the Psalms, and Isaiah, and, from the New Testament, much of Matthew, John, the Acts of the Apostles, and, with special devotion, most of Paul's Epistles. He did not, it is true, express himself on the theoretical basis of his exegesis in the greater context, but the Scripture was to him wholly the inspired Word of God, to the service of which he knew he was called and to which he sought to do justice with a high sense of responsibility. In relation to Scripture he aimed basically to strengthen the community in its faith and to lead it to a piety which should hold up in the day-to-day life of the great city of Antioch. As no other preacher of the East, Chrysostom possessed for this task one of the most favor able presuppositions, an innate oratorical endowment, which was not subject to the rules of style laid down in rhetoric but made use of them in an outstanding manner. With this native eloquence he joined a cor dial understanding for the cares and problems that afflicted his hearers, and this created a unique relationship of trust between preacher and community. The latter openly rejoiced when, after a rather long illness, Chrysostom appeared again in the pulpit, so fortunate was he that he could again feel their love. To have to give up preaching stirred in his hearers as in himself a feeling which he characterized as hunger. In all this he truly spoke to them not to please them: in Antioch, as later in Constantinople, he preached the demands of the gospel without com promise. To no bishop of the capital would the epithet "court preacher" be less suitable than to Chrysostom. Byzantine Scriptural preaching of the future found his homilies to be exemplary and used them again and again, of course mostly only as was possible to Epigoni. Among his admirers was especially his later successor in the see of Constantinople, Proclus (d. 446), but in his case a definitive judgment in regard to his preaching is rendered difficult because of the still unsolved questions relating to authenticity. To his time and especially to his community he ranked as a good preacher who, however, clearly paid his debt to contemporary rhetoric. The sermons today regarded as genuine mostly deal with the feasts of the Lord during the Church year, the Theotokos, the Apostles, or other figures of the Eastern Church. Of the sermons of Theodoret of Cyrrhus (d. c. 460), also an admirer of Chrysostom, only scanty remnants have come down to us, although he was praised by his hearers as an outstanding speaker. The ten talks on providence (peri pronoias)* were delivered in Antioch to a, for the most part, Christian and educated public, before which Theodoret was willing to renounce neither the carefully planned exposition of questions of natural science nor the copious use of rhetorical stylistic methods.

In the sphere of the Latin Church Upper Italy produced a series of bishops who left a quite abundant homiletic legacy. It was inaugurated by Zeno of Verona (362-C.372) whose sixteen sermons and seventy- seven sermon outlines were still clearly marked by the relatively late era of the evangelization of the countryside. From his African home Zeno brought a noteworthy rhetorical formation, which was strongly evident in the longer addresses. Ambrose of Milan in his preaching displayed a decided preference for the Old Testament, from which he took the text for his numerous Scriptural sermons, apart from his commentary on Luke, on which likewise his homilies were based. Even in their book form, revised for publication, his rhetorical education becomes clearly visible: the dignified, solemn language displays the Roman aristocrat as well as the bishop of the contemporary imperial city of residence, who was quite conscious of his position. But on the whole, his preaching, as he required of it also in theory, was simple and natural, adapted to the

iiMJNEK LIFE OF THE CHURCH BETWEEN NICAEA AND CHALCEDON

subject as well as to the understanding of the hearers, and clear in its expression. During his stay in Milan, Augustine found the repute of Ambrose's eloquence confirmed and was deeply touched by the preacher's suavitas sermonis, which aimed rather to enlighten than to charm. The study of the Greek Fathers, especially of Basil and Origen, induced him to adopt the allegorical exegesis of the Scriptural text because it seemed so productive for the preaching of his Christocentric piety. Forty-one sermons, only very recently identified, of Chromatius of Aquileia (388-c. 408), ordained a Bishop by Ambrose, acquaint us with a pastor who, free from rhetorical ambition, sought in simple but vivid language to make clear to his people the mystery of Christ, of his Church, and of their redemption. At the same time they give abundant information on the liturgy of the contemporary Church of Aquileia. Bishop Maximus of Turin (408-423), on the other hand, preferred thematic preaching to the homily in the proper sense. His rhetorical training usually enabled him to find a clear articulation for his theme and a striking formulation of his thoughts. He was always aware that he had to speak in an easily grasped language to people who had not long before been gained to the Christian faith, if he wanted to lead them to a genuinely Christian conduct. A preacher thoroughly convinced of the importance of a tireless and painstaking preaching was the Spanish Bishop Gregory of Elvira (d. after 392), whose twenty-five homilies, together with two addresses of Pacian of Barcelona, represent the ex tant remnant of the sermon literature of his country from the fourth and fifth centuries. Five homilies are devoted to the explanation of the Song of Songs; the others, except one, interpret Old Testament texts and use them vividly and cleverly with regard to style for deepening his hearers' understanding of the faith.

Jerome's homilies provide a surprise in the sense that these sermons on various psalms and pericopes from Mark and other New Testament

rRE/lUnii^U /VIN LJ riEli

writings renounce any rhetorical effect and linguistic elegance and show that the Christian preacher who has gone through the school of a profane education can thoroughly free himself from the ballast of the rhetoric of late antiquity. The impromptu homilies are in the traditional form of apparently uncorrected transcripts from the circle of his monks, with whom the "Abbot" of Bethlehem spoke familiarly and frankly on the dangers which could threaten a monk's life.

Precise in the range and quality of his homiletic achievement, Augus tine represents the Latin counterpart of Chrysostom, from whom, how ever, he took so many individual features that he became a unique figure among Early Christian preachers. The Bishop of Hippo also expressed himself in detail on the goal and form of the sermon and in so doing established the thesis that the Christian preacher need not have gone through the school of rhetoric in order to be able to perform his task objectively. He could model himself for this directly on Scripture and adhere to proved examples; in any event, the gifted preacher would do justice to the rules of eloquence, since they were natural to him. More heavily than all rhetorical brilliance on the one hand or the displea sure of the grammarians because of unpolished diction on the other hand, there weighed on Augustine the duty of explaining the Word of God in so plain a manner that the less gifted could also grasp it. To this end he delighted to give to his preaching the character of a dialogue, of the intimate conversation between the bishop at his cathedra and the congregation, which hung on his words and ingenuously replied to his questions. Augustine's lively spontaneity, his superior gift of improvisa tion, and his pedagogical skill were of uncommon benefit to such a manner of preaching. His biographer Possidius called special attention to the powerful impression which his method of preaching made on his hearers, and the expression probably coming from his successor in the preaching office repeats this impression in his own way: "now the cricket chirps, for the swan is silent." The deep effect of Augustine's preach ing was not least of all conditioned by a unique relation of trust and sympathy which united hearers and preacher. They were glad to come because they loved him and knew they were loved by a shepherd, who, like them, wanted to be only one member in the flock of Christ the Shepherd, by a teacher, who wanted to be only their fellow-pupil in the school of the one Teacher, Christ, who placed significance neither on his intellectual superiority nor on his episcopal authority, who might therefore even scold and reprimand, if the life of the community supplied the occasion. At bottom, Augustine was convinced that one who is not himself first a hearer in his inner being will be only a hollow preacher. Although not unaware of the strong echo which his preach ing found in the congregation and which he sensitively recorded in all its nuances, he found the task of preaching a magnum pondus in the evening of his life, often deeply oppressed by the responsibility into which he knew he had been placed. The fertile soil of his preaching was almost exclusively the Holy Scripture: his intimate knowledge of it effortlessly put at his disposal every verse of the Bible for spontaneous use and made his language completely saturated with the Bible. Differing from Chrysostom, Augustine preferred the allegorical exegesis of Scripture for preaching, since it supplied more abundant opportunities to his gift for making clear his understanding of the Word of God, as the homilies on the psalms and on John's gospel attest with special vigor. While in the Enarrationes in psalmos, as well as in the general sermones, the great questions and themes of Christian lifeЧthe world as foreign, the mean ing of suffering, Christian hope, life as prayerЧare in the foreground, the figure of Christ, his message, and his Church are the dominant theme of the Tractatus in evangelium s. Johannis, which in its way rep resented an unsurpassed high point of Early Christian preaching. The preaching of the Latin Church lived for centuries on his homiletic legacy as a whole.

Of the Latin preachers after Augustine, a later age honored the Bishop Peter of Ravenna (c. 430-450) with the nickname Chrysologus, but his extant homilies do very little to justify it, at least in regard to form. To the principle which he himself laid downЧthat one must preach to the people only in a popular mannerЧhe proved himself only too often unfaithful because of his delight in rhetorical ostentation. More attractive, on the other hand, are the twenty sermons of Bishop Valerian of Cimiez (d. c. 460). They give a clear picture of the cult of martyrs in contemporary southern Gaul and stress the duty of the Chris tian to prove himself in daily life by charity toward his fellowmen, readiness for reconciliation, and humility. The sermons of Pope Leo I are distinguished by linguistic elegance and solemn diction and are the first religious talks of a Pope of importance to come down to us. In them the consciousness of the rank of the Roman episcopal see is clearly reflected, but they do not cause one to forget the religious seriousness and the sparkling life of the Augustinian sermones.

Christocentric Piety

As the basic attitude and center of all piety, devotion to Christ in its various forms was pushed into the awareness of the faithful by Christian preaching even more powerfully than in earlier times. Christocentric baptismal piety, long stressed, still retained its rank, which could be noted in the thought and intensity which pastoral care devoted to the preparation for baptism and the elaboration of the baptismal liturgy. Naturally, the actuality of day-to-day Christian life often did not corre spond to the untiringly extolled demand on the faithful to form their lives with regard to their baptismal promises, so that Chrysostom had to warn his neophytes against the example of those Christians whose be havior flagrantly contradicted what they had once promised. Eucharis tie piety also now fell short, among the majority of Christians, of the ideal proclaimed to them, since, especially in the large communities of East and West, preaching had to complain ever more of the declining or fluctuating attendance at the liturgy. Here now, more and more, a nu cleus of dedicated Christians stood in contrast to the bulk of the mem bers of the community, who found their way to the church only on the solemnities of the liturgical year or for special occasions. Preaching clearly pushed devotion to the Passion to the foreground, as the numer ous sermones de passione domini make known, and they prepared for the medieval devotion to the sufferings of the Lord. Their effect was a widespread veneration of the Cross, which was expressed as well in the popularity of the sign of the cross as a gesture of prayer in private and liturgical piety, especially in the adoratio crucis on Good Friday, as in the triumphal cross of the apses of basilicas and of sarcophagi, in the simple cross on the walls of a private house or in the cell of the monk, and finally in the keen interest in the fate of the true Cross of Christ. The popular pilgrimages to Jerusalem had one of their roots here. The visit to the Holy Sepulchre and Mount Calvary, which was an established part of the religious celebration of Holy Week in Jerusalem in the fourth century makes one think of the stations of the later Way of the Cross. The sermon on the Passion was also the occasion on which the demand for the "following of Christ" was made with special urgency: this was emphatically understood as an imitation of the example which Christ gave in his Passion as doctor humilitatis and as physician of suffer ing mankind. Finally, Christocentric piety manifested itself im pressively in prayer to Christ, which further expanded the start made earlier by Origen and the martyrs, and as a consequence of the stimulus which the Christological discussions since Nicaea gave it; the private piety of the prevailing attitude to prayer developed into it and received through Augustine its deepest theological justification.

The earlier arrangement of prayers with its set times for prayer in the course of the day and its basis, which found its first definite form in the Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus, continued to endure under the influ ence of this writing: morning, evening, and mealtime prayer, prayer at the third, fifth, and ninth hours and once during the night, in order to be mindful at any given time of what the Lord did at these hours for the redemption of mankind. Every Christian had at his disposal as texts for his private prayer, first of all, the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, which he knew by heart from the days of his preparation for baptism: the Church constantly urged him to use them as prayers. In addition, in connection with the Eucharistic celebration, some psalm verses and scriptural pericopes had become familiar to him, and they could nourish his pri vate prayer. When the acts of martyrs were read, he often became aware of the call of Christ to the martyrs or heard how his pastors declaimed prayers on the spot and thus learned spontaneously to compose texts that corresponded to his personal situation. Again and again he was also urged by the Church to read the Bible privately.68

An important further elaboration of the form of prayer is represented at this period by the change, effected in part under the influence of monasticism, of the earlier prayer-times from the private sphere into the liturgical prayer of the community in the church building. Here, it is true, the participation of the laity was possible only in the liturgical morning and evening prayerЧLauds and VespersЧbut this was rec ommended so urgently that a serious Christian could not easily dispense himself from it. As regards content, an enrichment of the piety of the laity was thereby effected: they now came to know far more of the world of the psalms, Holy Scripture, and also ecclesiastical hymns and pre pared texts, which they could also adopt in their private prayers. This daily liturgical prayer cannot be demonstrated for the fourth century in all areas where Christianity had spread; it was primarily the concern of the community and only in a rather long development became the obligatory Officium to be celebrated for the clergy of the cathedrals.69 The great preachers spoke again and again on the meaning and con tent of prayer and essentially, even with varying stress, they expounded the same ideas: that prayer, as conversation with God, requires the proper attitude of soul; that it is first of all a thanksgiving for God's spiritual gifts and should express the desire for the vita beata; that it must not be restricted to set formulas, even if such are often recom mended; that one may pray for earthly things only in so far as they are necessary for life and promote one's salvation.70

B8 A. Hamman, Prieres des premiers chretiens; D. Gorce, La lectio divina (Paris 1925).

69 J. Stadlhuber, "Das Stundengebet des Laien im christlichen Altertum," ZKTh 71 (1949), 129-183; D. Y. Hadidian, "The Background and Origin of the Christian Hours of Prayer," ThSt 25 (1964), 59-69; H. Leeb, Die Psalmodie bei Ambrosius (Vienna 1967).

71 Prayer in Chrysostom: P. Rentinck, op. cit., 146-153; in Augustine: F. van der Meer, op. cit.,.

Forms of Asceticism

"But we are not monks." Again and again Chrysostom had to meet this objection when at Antioch he proclaimed to the laity also the obligation to a life which should be in accord with the gospel.71 Apart from mar riage, however, he and other pastors of the day preached that in princi ple monks and lay persons were called upon to strive for the same perfection, since there is only a single ideal of perfection for all Chris tians, which must be realized everywhere. Hence aloofness from the world is for all Christians the basic ascetical disposition which was staunchly emphasized by the Christian preaching and the ascetical liter ature of the time, which claimed to have been written not merely for monks or to recruit for the monastic life. Fasting was especially rec ommended as one possibility of its realization, understood not only as liturgical penitential fasting or as preparation for the reception of the Eucharist or even as mere hygienic fasting, but as a personal feat and attitude, which was oriented to man's goal in the next life. Then to all the propertied classes was directed by the pastors a continual admoni tion to almsgiving, which was not only regarded as a social duty of Christians toward the poor or as a form of expiation of the personal guilt of sin, but was presented as the way to interior freedom vis-a-vis wealth and property. Wealth, of course, was not considered in principle as sinful, but it was always described, at times with powerful rhetorical pathos, as highly dangerous to the individual's salvation. The total renunciation of often vast wealth and of a life of luxury, as was carried out not rarely in the fourth and fifth centuries by members of the upper class in Constantinople, Cappadocia, Rome, Gaul, Sicily, and North Africa, obtained unlimited praise from the ecclesiastical sector. For the most part this step sooner or later followed the entry upon a specific ascetical lifestyle, in which a person remained in his family or commu nity as continens or virgo or joined an ascetic group or, more often, a community of nuns or monks or was admitted into the clergy. The Church at this time recruited intensely by word and writing in the lay world to urge a decision to this ascetical life, as the numerous works on continence or virginity respectively make known. The earliest among them, such as the homilies of Eusebius of Emesa and the pertinent writings of Athanasius, still presupposed that these ascetics continued to live in their parental house or together with some like-minded per sons. Gregory of Nyssa emphasized that he wanted to recruit for the ideal of virginity in his treatise, and in it he repeatedly addressed male youth. If, in so doing, he, like Eusebius of Emesa before him and Chrysostom in his early work on the same theme after him, and, even more, Jerome in his polemic against Jovinian, described the difficulty of married life in harsh terms, this was not at all a specifically Christian devaluation of marriage but a variation of a theme which was familiar since Aristotle and current throughout the Stoic diatribe. Later Chrysostom came to a balanced judgment on marriage, and Augustine in his De bono conjugali and De sancta virginitate reproved Jerome's vehemence. With the corpus of Ambrose's works on virginity they represent the high point of Old Latin Christian literature on this theme: the theological justification which Augustine hit upon for Christian vir ginity, his clear delineation in regard to the quite proper rank of mar riage, and the sensible look at its dangers for those who freely chose it, secured for his estimation of virginity its millenial long-range effect.

Cult of Martyrs and Saints

The freedom won through Constantine's conversion to Christianity gave to the already important cult of martyrs strong new impulses, which caused it to become, in the next hundred years, a very charac teristic and, in its consequences, highly significant form of Early Chris tian piety, in whose development both the private initiative of individ ual faithful and the Church as representative of public worship shared. The previous view of the martyr as the perfect imitator of Christ, who through the power of grace had given witness to his Lord with his blood and now as coronatus, as the contemporary Christian art liked to show him, united with him in the glory of the next life, underwent no sub stantial modification; only one feature was now stressed: his dignity and his nearness to the glorified Lord made him the advocate of the faithful on earth and the protector of the individual as well as of the community which chose him as its patron. Out of this esteem grew the strong interest in the grave of the witness to the faith and in the relics which it sheltered. In its direct possession was seen a special guarantee of the protection and intercession of the patron and it was distinguished from all other graves by a special cult building, erected as martyrion or memoria respectively or as a basilica over the grave, which in size and furnishing often vied with the churches of the community within the city walls. The community assembled in these cemetery churches on the dies natalis martyris to celebrate the Eucharist. From the same root sprang the zealous effort to rediscover the tombs of those martyrs concerning whose martyrdom tradition often supplied only a summary account or who had fallen into oblivion in the shadow of an especially vivid martyr-figure, such as an early bishop of the community. The inventio of such a grave, which was often due to a vision or to informa tion provided in a dream, became the most significant event which deeply affected the worship and piety of the community. Especially momentous inventiones of this sort were, in the West, the discovery of the bones of the Milanese martyrs Gervasius and Protasius, Nazarius and Celsus by Bishop Ambrose in 386 and the rediscovery of the grave of Stephen at Kaphargamala near Jerusalem in 415, which produced a new wave of devotion to Stephen, which, with the dispersal of his relics, embraced all areas of the Empire in a very short time.

A new phase of the cult of martyrs began with the translatio of the remains of martyrs to the churches within the city walls, although at first this procedure encountered considerable doubt and difficulties, since it was contrary to a twofold law, binding in East and West, according to which the deceased might be buried only outside city walls, and graves were regarded as "inviolable." The corresponding laws were repeatedly inculcated by the Christian Emperors also, and exceptions required the authorization of the highest administrative officials. Eor the first known transfer of a martyr's bodyЧthat of St. Baby las to Antioch in 354 Ч the Caesar Gallus was able to give it more easily because with the new sanctuary of Babylas it was now possible definitively to displace in the suburb Daphne the cult of Apollo that had especially flourished there. In the transfer of the bodies of martyrs that he had found, Ambrose apparently regarded his position as bishop of the imperial residence as sufficient to exempt him from this law, but other bishops had to ask a dispensation. In Persia Bishop Marutha of Maipherkat requested it in 410 from King Yezdegerd I, and the subsequent transfer of the Persian martyrs into his episcopal city included the change of its name to Mar- tyropolis. In Rome people at first took a reserved view of the all too frequent transfers, but bestowed the greatest care on the martyrs' tombs and the buildings belonging to them. The place of the new burial in the city church could be only in the closest proximity to the center of the church, the altar; the most faithful followers of Christ, who had offered their life in a total self-sacrifice, should be in closest touch with the spot on which the memorial of Christ's sacrificial death was celebrated. Hence altar and martyr's tomb were at that time brought together, both in theory and in practice, into that intimate connection which would later be the rule everywhere, according to liturgical law, where there was a Christian altar.

But this aim could be realized only if portions of martyrs' remains were supplied to those communities and churches which did not have so precious a possession at their disposal, and so it was necessary to pro ceed to multiply martyrs' relics by division into small and minute parts. The objections springing here from burial law and theological scruples were overcome with the argument that the protection and benefit for a community produced by the smallest particle of a relic was more sig nificant than the integrity of the corpus, and the bodily resurrection of a martyr was not jeopardized, in view of God's omnipotence, by such parcelings. They were also facilitated by the partition, begun earlier, of the Cross of Christ, particles of which went forth from the middle of the fourth century to all areas where Christianity had spread. As with the transfer of whole tombs of martyrs, the obtaining, transfer, and burial of the relics of martyrs in the altar of the church was elaborated into a solemn ceremony. Since even this partition of relics did not satisfy the numerous demands, and since in the West people remained far more reserved in regard to the partitioning, a substitute was established in the so-called "second-class relics," usually expensive fabrics, which were brought into contact with the martyr's tomb or the place where the relics were deposited, to which, in accord with an ancient and Christian idea, the protective and healing power of the original relics then passed. Parallel to the sharing of relics, still controlled by the Church to a degree, ran the intensive exertion of private circles to come into possession of such precious phylacteries, which early led to the doubtful abuses of a far-flung commerce in relics; they were, of course, disap proved by ecclesiastical and civil officials but could never be completely eliminated.

The conviction of the intercessory power of martyrs led many Chris tians to want to be themselves buried as close as possible to a martyr's grave. From this burial ad sanctos people expected aid for themselves at the hour of the resurrection, because one was conducted before God's judgment seat by the martyr who rose with him. The sober statement of Augustine that the place of burial of itself guaranteed no help for a dead person, but only the prayer of the living who commended him to the intercession of the martyrs, did very little to check this powerfully blazing desire in the second half of the fourth century for interment near the grave of a saint. Finally, the Church had to regulate by law burial inside a church and reserve it for a small circle of personsЧ bishops, priests, and a few lay persons of high rank.

The cult of martyrs as an Early Christian form of piety was not pro moted chiefly by the lay world or by monasticism, but in its essential features it was motivated, justified, and encouraged by the Church and its theologians. In scarcely any of the not very bulky homiletic legacy of a pastor of the time are there missing sermons in honor of a martyr, which extol his dignity, the power of his intercession, the example of his love of Christ, and the miracle-working efficacy of his relics. The Church not only allowed the interment of his body inside the house of God: it let its liturgical calendar be decisively determined by the memo rial days of the martyrs and admitted their names into the text of the Eucharistic Prayer.

The cult of saints who did not rank as martyrs began somewhat hesitantly in the first half of the fourth century and reached full devel opment in its last two decades; it was, after all, an extension of the cult of martyrs to a group of the dead whose life and actions enabled them to be compared to the martyrs in some degree, because it likewise rep resented an outstanding profession and witness for Christ. They in cluded, first of all, those who in time of persecution had suffered for the faith in prison, under torture, or in exile, but the desired confirmation by a bloody death was denied them. With such confessores were soon associated individual ascetics and monks, whose life was willingly ranked as unbloody martyrium, and finally also those who especially proved themselves in the Arian troubles or in the missions as coura geous adherents and zealous preachers of the orthodox faith. Martyrium sine cruore was granted to all those, and they were quickly celebrated in word and writing, like the other martyrs: the hermits Antony and Hilar ion, the Syrian monks, especially the Stylites, the exiled Bishops Paulinus of Trier, Dionysius of Milan, Athanasius, the protagonist of Orthodoxy, Basil, Peter of Sebaste, Ambrose of Milan, the missionary Martin of Tours, and others. To them also was accorded the liturgical celebration of the day of their death and admittance into the liturgical calendar; private individuals and clerics competed in building memorial chapels and churches over their graves, in Syria even, as a precaution, in the lifetime of an esteemed hermit, and their relics were soon equally desired and at times literally fought over, as those of the old martyrs. The people were especially strongly involved in the spread and elabora tion of the cult of this group of saints. The accounts of their life and activity were gladly filled in with that colorful detail which appealed to popular fantasy; the charismatic endowment of individuals was felt to be miraculous, and some lives of saints are mere collections of miracula.

In the Christian cult of saints were also included some outstanding figures from the world of the Old Testament, such as Moses, Abraham, David, some of the Prophets, and the Macchabee brothers, even though this was not without its difficulties for two reasons. The first was that thereby a certain recognition, if not commendation, of Judaism was expressed, and yet Christians were often still in polemical confrontation with it. Then, in the life of these persons the inner relationship to witnessing for Christ seemed to be lacking, and hence the decisive criterion for the dignity of martyr or confessor. Christian preaching theoretically countered this difficulty with the argument that these figures were Christians before the appearance of Christ, because their life served the ultimate goal of his coming, and thus the violent death of some Prophets, of Eleazar, of the Macchabees, could be understood as anticipated martyrdom and hence a Christian celebration in their mem ory was justified. In practice, the Christians of Palestine and Syria often neutralized or overcame the competing Jewish cult of saints by taking possession of the sites of the Jewish shrines and building churches there, such as at Hebron-Mambre, which then became centers of the Christian cult of saints.

The cult of Mary had spread among the people long before theology had clarified the questions regarding her sanctity and virginity. People besought "the protection of the Theotokos" at least at the beginning of the fourth century, as a prayer preserved on papyrus shows. However, in 377 Epiphanius of Salamis had to come out decisively against a sectarian debasement of her cult. Bishop Severian of Gabalawas of the opinion that Mary was to be invoked in prayer before the Apostles and martyrs; in the West her cult was theologically clarified and justified especially by Ambrose and Augustine. The oldest Marian feast was celebrated in Constantinople even before the Council of Ephesus as mneme Theotokou on 26 December and in title and content recalled the dies natalis of the martyrs; the first churches dedicated to her go back likewise to this time. The Council of 431 freed the way for the complete development of the cult of Mary.

Early Christian Pilgrimage

Another field of Early Christian popular devotion is found in the pilgrimage system, the prototypes of which are represented by the pil grimage to the places most significant for memories of the Christian past, which lie above all in the Holy Land, and the pilgrimage to the tombs and relics of saints. The initial steps toward the pilgrimage to Palestine are seen, after a period of caution conditioned by the critical contrast to the Jewish pilgrimage system, in the pre-Constantinian jour neys of individual Christians, such as Origen and the future Bishop Alexander of Jerusalem, a native of Cappadocia: they were motivated by theological and exegetical interests or by the desire to pray at the holy shrines.96 As early as 315 larger crowds of pilgrims from all parts of the East were to be seen in Jerusalem, and the pilgrimage movement received new incentives when, with the beginning of Constantine's sole rule, the external circumstances of the journey became more favorable and when the visit to the holy shrines received encouragement from higher up because of the esteem which the imperial family, especially Helena and Constantine himself, gave to it. But that one should not see in Constantine's measures the basic cause of the pilgrimages to Palestine is made clear by the report of the journey of a pilgrim from Bordeaux in 333, who in Jerusalem came upon a situation quite in accord with the entire pilgrimage system, such as can have developed only in a rather prolonged period of time. In Jerusalem and its closest neighborhood, naturally, what was in the foreground for the pilgrims were the sites which had a relation to the events from the Redeemer's life; then fol lowed the places of Old Testament tradition, while the cult of Christian saints began only with the discovery of Stephen's grave in 415, and the cult of Mary was discernible in Jerusalem still later. Hence the world of the Bible clearly determined the visits of the pilgrims: it was "the real Pilgrim's Guide" for the journey to the Holy Land. This is true also for the places situated farther away, such as Cana in Galilee, Lake Genesareth, Mount Tabor, the Jordan Valley, the Dead Sea, Hebron in the south, and Mount Sinai.

Despite all external activity, as it showed itself occasionally at great pilgrimage centers, despite some bizarre and even grotesque individual features of the traffic in relics here, from the total experience of the Palestine pilgrimage, especially from the great liturgical observances of Holy Week and of the Finding of the Cross, lasting effects were pro duced on the devotion of the pilgrims, which were passed on by them after their return home. The precious account of the journey of the pilgrim Egeria attests this, despite all the simplicity of the statements, as decisively as do the letters of Jerome, based on observations made over years.

The second type of pilgrimage, the visit to the grave and relics of the saints, naturally presupposed a certain progress in the cult of martyrs and saints, but it influenced its further expansion and intensification. In the course of the fourth century there developed, in the East a bit earlier than in the West, those great pilgrimage centers in all parts of the Empire, which always set large crowds of pilgrims in motion; here only the most important can be named. In the Syrian capital, Antioch, with its many memorials of martyrs, that of the Seven Macchabees was, besides the shrine of Babylas, the most important point of attraction, but both were overshadowed by Kal'at Sim'an, the "rock" of Simeon the Older, the Stylite, who in his lifetime was the most popular ascetic of the entire Syrian area. The grave of the Apostle Thomas at Edessa was as beloved a goal of pilgrims as the Church of Saint Sergius in Rusafa on the Euphrates, which in the Early Byzantine period saw the largest crowds of pilgrims. In Seleucia-in-Isauria was the shrine of the legendary Thecla, Ephesus possessed the graves of the Apostle John and of the Seven Holy Sleepers, and from Chalcedon the miraculous blood-relics of Saint Euphemia proceeded into the Early Christian world. A pilgrimage center with all its accessories had developed in Egypt around the tomb of Menas and made the City of Menas the "Early Christian Lourdes." The highly regarded cult shrines of the capital of Constantinople were connected with outside saints: the two physicians Cosmas and Damian (anargyroi) and Daniel the Stylite; De metrius, venerated also at Sirmium, obtained a famous shrine at Thes- salonica. In the Latin West no city could compete with Rome in the number of martyrs' tombs, among which those of the two Apostles Peter and Paul held the first rank also in the eyes of the numerous pilgrims; following them were the tombs of Hippolytus and Lawrence, all in the course of time distinguished by magnificent cemeterial basilicas. Bishop Paulinus proclaimed the glory of the martyr Felix at Nola in Campania, as the zealous custodian of his tomb. At Carthage the annual memorial of Saint Cyprian attracted many Christians, who, to the sorrow of the bishop of the city, introduced the feast with a hardly edifying preliminary celebration. North Africa became the home of a widespread cult of Stephen, when relics from his grave arrived there after 415 and produced miraculous cures at Hippo, Calama, and Uzala, which were not questioned even by Augustine. Catholics of Gaul and Spain made annual pilgrimages to Martin's grave at Tours; among them were many who expected a cure from their sickness. The Spaniards themselves had in the burial sites of the martyr Vincent at Zaragoza and of Saint Eulalia of Merida pilgrimage shrines which were celebrated by Prudentius.

As the basic attitude for the pilgrimage the preachers of the period required a disposition which would prove itself in the following of Christ and the imitation of his saints. The motives could differ in indi vidual pilgrims. In the foreground stood the desire and hope to find healing or counsel in personal need, especially in sickness; thanks for help given was also an opportunity for a promised pilgrimage. The notion of penance and expiation was not yet emphasized, even though it would hardly have been missing in the often great hardships of the pilgrim's journey. Criticism of the pilgrimage system was scarcely di rected against the pilgrimage as such, but against the misunderstanding of it, its improper motivation, and the manifold corruptions of the practice of pilgrimage, especially as they appeared at the great pilgrim age centers.

Survival of Pagan Customs in Christian Popular Piety

Like missionary work in all ages, so too that of the fourth and fifth centuries had to learn by experience that a relatively brief period of preparation for the reception of baptism did not suffice to supplant deep-rooted pagan practice in the newly converted. And so the pastors of all lands in East and West stood in a ceaseless struggle against various forms of pagan superstitio, which at times was mixed almost inextricably with what was Christian and seriously compromised the purity of devo tion. People complained especially of the power of attraction of pagan magic, as practiced by astrologers, soothsayers, and faith-healers, who were again and again sought out by Christians, in spite of all the warn ings of preachers. The so-called Synod of Laodicea even had to de cree that clerics of all ranks who acted as magicians, sorcerers, astrolo gers, and makers of amulets were to be deposed from their functions. Chrysostom and Augustine knew practicing Catholics who had recourse to superstitiously selected days, incantations, and amulets, an especially objectionable practice, since they bore the sign of the cross. The Upper Italian Bishops Gaudentius of Brescia, Maximus of Turin, and Zeno of Verona had to censure the same procedure in some of their faithful. Augustine knew that Christians used the book of the gospels to inquire into the future from it; others placed it on themselves in order to cure a headache, and with some resignation he stated that it was not intended for that but it was still at least preferable to pagan magic fillets. In rural districts especially the attachment to the cult of trees, springs, and rocks continued tenaciously to exist, and again and again synods at tacked it, apparently with no great success. The attractions of pagan feasts could be dispelled only with difficulty, and persons even partici pated in revels in pagan temples. Clearly the temptation was irresistible for many when the days came, since on the Kalends of January the new year was introduced with boisterous celebration. Many bishops made the Kalends feast the theme of entire sermons and rejected the appeas ing explanation of Christians that there was here still a question of a popular feast by arguing that the celebrations referred by their very origin to a pagan idol.

An ingredient of the pagan cult of the dead was the refrigerium, a meal to which came the relatives of a deceased person on the third, seventh, and ninth days after the burial, on the anniversary of the death, and on the great memorial of the dead, the Parent alia, in February. The Chris tians retained this meal of the dead in a simple form without opposition from the Church and added to it a Christian feature when they had a part of the foods brought turned over to the poor. But in the fourth century this meal at the graves often assumed again, even among Chris tians, the noisy and unbridled form of pagan celebrations for the de ceased. Chrysostom not only blamed the loud lamentation of the relatives and wailers at a Christian funeral as pagan behavior, which contradicted the belief in the resurrection; he also disapproved the pomp which some Christians displayed there. The meals were finally transferred into the churches on the memorials of the martyrs and in some places, especially in Italy and North Africa, degenerated into great revels with dancing and song. At Milan Ambrose, to whom the pagan origin of the refrigeria was always displeasing, early abolished them. Other bishops of North Italy followed him, whereas they con tinued at Rome, even in St. Peter's. In Africa Augustine was the driving force that sought to end such abuses. He gained Bishop Au- relius of Carthage, where especially serious excesses occurred, for a discussion of the question at the Synod of 393 in Hippo, which forbade the custom. Augustine enforced the synodal decree, not without oppo sition, at Hippo and at the same time recommended that the foods hitherto destined for the memorial meal in the church be used for an agape at the graves of the dead in the cemetery and that gifts be given to the poor and the needy at the same time, for that was the Christian way, in addition to the liturgical celebration for the dead, to recall the de ceased.

Of course, it did not escape Augustine's watchful eye that a paganism of a subtler sort than that of the realistic popular devotion continued in some Christians, and he saw in it no slight danger. The traditional pagan vital feeling was carried like a subtle poison, as it were, in the blood: the desires for this world, the pride in one's own virtus, which so greatly opposed the understanding of Christian grace, the instinctive shrinking back, ever more revealing itself, from a crucified God, and finally the strong protest against the basic attitude of humilitas. Adherence to these features of paganism was the reason which made so many Chris tians of the upper class remain semichristian for years. Like no other preacher, Augustine spoke anxiously again and again of this basic danger to the Christian.

The Laity in the Church

The division of Christians, into the three groups of laity, clergy, and monks, actually already existing at the turn of the fourth century, be came more precise in the course of the century and gradually found its fixed place in law together with the development of the corresponding terminology. In this process a clear change in the previous importance and position of the laity within the Church became perceptible, which went back to several causes. With the end of the persecutions the very intensely experienced community of the pre-Constantinian Church be tween clergy and laity, created by the same expectation of martyrdom, was relaxed everywhere. The glory of martyrdom now, in the opinion of many, passed ever more to asceticism and monasticism, the lifestyle of which, as already indicated, was esteemed as an unbloody martyrdom, and, even unintentionally created a clear distance between itself and the mass of believers. Further, because of the differentiation of functions and still more because of the expansion of its tasks and authority in the care of souls and administration, the clergy gained such power in author ity and public respect that the previous position of the laity could not remain uninfluenced by it. And monasticism, with its outlook of holding itself far aloof from "the world," promoted the idea according to which the effort to work out its salvation directly in this world was regarded as doubtful in principle; finally, the sort of lifestyle of many lay persons in the fourth and fifth centuries produced in some pastors a rather skeptical evaluation of the lay element.

The consequences of this change were, of course, neither the same in all areas of Christendom, nor was there always a question of a merely negative repudiation of lay influence, but often of a shifting within its previous spheres of duty. In the basilica the place of the people was now clearly distinct from the place of the clergy, which no lay person was supposed to enter. In procession there developed a certain order of precedence, whereby the clergy, the monks, and the virgins and widows went ahead of the "people." In the pastoral spheres, lay persons still took part in the preparation of the catechumens for baptism, especially widows in the instruction of the women; in cases of necessity lay persons could baptize, but women should not administer baptism, any more than they might instruct men.

The ancient right of the laity to cooperate in the choosing of their clergy continued in principle and was still especially exercised in the election of the bishop. Of course, the form of their collaboration was not precisely fixed: for the most part it consisted of an acclamation of the candidate proposed. The people were also supposed to be consulted in the possible transfer of a bishop to another see; however, at least in the deposition of a bishop they were usually ignored. The Emperors espe cially often intervened in the election of a bishop, without regard for this right of the laity. The Synod of Laodicea, however, expressed itself against a participation by "the crowd" in the choosing of the clergy. In the West lay persons occasionally could take part in the annual synods; once, at a Gallic synod, the presence of lay representatives was pre scribed.

More and more the notion prevailed that the right "to teach" had to be reserved to the clergy. Thus lay preaching virtually ceased. Pope Leo I expressly forbade it and extended the prohibition to monks also, even if they had a certain level of education. The few known exceptions only confirm the general practice. But the Apostolic Constitutions still permitted a lay person to be a teacher of catechumens, if he showed himself suited by his ability and his conduct. Only once was it permitted a layman to teach in the presence of clerics: however, this was not a right of the laity but a concession of the clerics. Parallel to this limitation of an official teaching activity of the laity there developed, however, a growing sharing of the laity in the theological literary work of the time, which can be ascertained expecially in the West. Well-known "lay theologians" of this sort were, for example, Arnobius, Lactantius, Fir- micus Maternus, Marius Victorinus, perhaps the "Ambrosiaster," and Prosper of Aquitaine. The Donatist Church displayed qualified lay theologians in the teacher Cresconius and in Tyconius; in the circle of Pelagius were likewise found theologically interested laymen, and there were others, like Helvidius, among the correspondents and literary op ponents of Jerome.

Unmistakable also was the influence of lay persons in high official or private position on the many areas of ecclesiastical life. Augustine's friend, the Count Marcellinus, could conduct the religious debate of Carthage in 411 and even act as arbiter. In the East ministers and high officials such as Eutropius, Candidian, John, Irenaeus at Ephesus, Chrysoretus, and Chrysaphius played a considerable ecclesiastico- political role. Well-to-do lay persons followed the example of Constan- tine as promoters of ecclesiastical construction and as founders of charitable institutions or supported the Church's care of the poor by corresponding bequests.

The calling upon the laity for the administration of Church property was often practiced but not uniformly regulated. In North Africa seniores laid, probably elected by the community, as a sort of ecclesiasti cal council, established an institutionalized field of duties. But in the East they were more and more replaced by clerics, although Chrysostom regretted that, for this reason, these were unable to do justice to their proper task of caring for souls.

In East and West the importance and goal of the lay apostolate was clearly seen and urgently called for by the Church. It was seen as justified in the always recognized general priesthood of the laity, and hence it should be intended for the Universal Church. Chrysostom and Augustine precisely circumscribed the field of duties of this apostolate: they moved to first place the exemplary day-to-day Christian life, whereby a pagan would sooner be gained to Christianity than by any scholarly theological argument. Then, it should show itself in prompt and energetic help for the fellow Chrstian in religious or moral danger, who should be strengthened by the further giving of what one has learned in church from Christian preaching. To the unalterable content of such an apostolate belonged, finally, the missionary work of the layman among the pagans or heretics of his circle of acquaintances, who could be reached only with difficulty by the official preaching of the Church. The lay apostolate should be exercised in close collaboration with the clergy, who, according to Chrysostom, always need the prayer, the advice, and, at times, also the criticism of the laity,132 as, conversely, the Church prays especially for the laity.133

132 On the general priesthood of the faithful in the patristic age: J. Lecuyer, AID 27 (1951), 5-51; for the view of Chrysostom and Ambrose, cf. A. Nocent-B. Studer, VetChrist 1 (1970), 305-324, 324-340. The lay apostolate according to Chrysostom: P. Rentinck, op. cit., 235-250.

133

134 Serap., Euchol., can. 3, 5, 6.

135

CHAPTER 1 9

Early Christian Monasticism: Development and Expansion in the East

I. THE RELIGIOUS AND HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

When, in the two decades preceding the turn from the third to the fourth century, individual Christians in Egypt and, perhaps quite inde pendently of these, in eastern Syria broke with their previous life in their family and community and went into solitude apart from other human beings in order to lead a life there of voluntary poverty and sexual continence, the step was taken which was to move beyond Early Christian ascetism to monasticism proper. Thereby began the history of a phenomenon of the inner life of the Church which had far reaching consequences for the Christianity of the succeeding centuries in East and West and characterizes it in various ways down to the present.

In a few decades areas remote from populous centers in Upper Egypt, later called the Thebaid from its geographical center of Thebes, and the region of the Nitrian Desert southwest of Alexandria, as well as the hilly country around Edessa in East Syria were settled by numerous anchorites, who built primitive huts for themselves or were satisfied with a cave. Many of them led their life in full isolation from one another and remained hermits in the strict sense for their lifetime; oth ers, without any firm tie by means of a promise or a fixed rule, attached themselves to one of their number, who was to be their spiritual adviser and thus established a loose union of anchorites. History does not know any clearly outlined figure from whom, through his mere example or enticing word, the notion of realizing the following of Christ in such a way first proceeded. The young Egyptian Antony, who c. 273 left his native village of Kome in central Egypt in order to live as a hermit, first in its vicinity, later in the Libyan Desert, and then on a hill on the Nile, is indeed often called "the Father of Egyptian monasticism" but he was not the first anchorite: he was only one of many, for whom, however, his charismatic endowment and the rank of his biographer Athanasius gained a very high repute. Since for the anchoretic life of East Syria, which was beginning about the same time, no clearly tangible founding figure can be named, the question of the causes of this unique phenom enon acquires special importance.

The history of religion, in the search for an answer, has looked care fully at non-Christian models, from which Christian monasticism may perhaps have been derived. Thus for a while it was believed that a preliminary stage had been found in the so-called Katochoi of the Egyp tian god Sarapis, hence in those men who served their god in individual cells at the temple of Sarapis in Memphis or at other shrines, temporar ily renouncing their possessions. Certain common features of the reli gious attitude seem to speak in favor of deriving monasticism from some religious and philosophical trends in Hellenism, especially Neo- platonism and Neopythagoreanism, such as the emphasis on inner recol lection and on holy silence in the interest of a clear self-knowledge, and finally a strikingly full agreement in ascetical terminology. Most re cently there has been an emphasis on certain influences which pro ceeded from ManichaeanismЧand indirectly through it even from the contemporary BuddhismЧon Early Christian asceticism and above all on the monasticism that further developed from it, not only in Egypt, but even more in Syrian Mesopotamia. Here are adduced certain ex ternal traits, which are common to both movements, such as the ex tremely severe fasting, the absolute disengagement from every family tie, as well as the extreme rejection of earthly possessions and of manual labor. Finally, the question must present itself as to whether the imme diate precursor of Christian monasticism, at least for the cenobitic type of the first disciples of Pachomius, must not be found in the "monastic community" of Qumran: in its strict organization of the community life, its rejection of private property, its obligation to celibacy, and in its day-to-day ascetical practice, the Pachomian monasticism was to a great degree anticipated in the Qumran community.

If Early Christian monasticism is first studied according to its self- understanding, there can be advanced from the corresponding literature a whole series of motives by which monks justified their decision for the form of life that they selected.7 The idea of the following of Christ can, without difficulty, be recognized as the basic motive, which could be realized without compromise earliest in the radical estrangement from the "world," as Basil emphasized. The monk intended "to go the hum ble way of Christ," the narrow and painful way of which Scripture speaks, whereby he might some day repeat the words: "See, we have left everything and followed you." (Matt. 19:27). He was deeply per meated with the understanding that the following of the Lord forever placed him under the Cross, so that the Pachomian monks had them selves constantly reminded of the basis of their existence by a cross sewn on to their cloak, and Basil could define the existence of the monk precisely as "a carrying of the Cross." In a steady gazing on their crucified model, the monks took up the hardships of their life and intended thus to effect their dying together with Christ. They knew that in this they were gathered into a great troop, which was already living up to such an ideal before them, beginning with the Old Testa ment models of monasticism, Abraham, Moses, and Elijah, by way of John the Baptist, who in many respects seemed to them the founder of their mode of life, to the Apostles and the primitive community in Jerusalem, which seemed to them, in its life characterized by an ascetic enthusiasm, the ever valid realization of the following of the Lord. Without doubt a strong influence on the origin of early monasticism was

this reaching back to the primitive Christian ideal whose theoretical J

rooting in the biblical world of ideas is already demonstrated. Since the J

days of Ignatius of Antioch the death of the Christian martyr ranked as I

the exalted form of the following of Christ; so the monks saw in the 1

martyrs an inspiring prototype and made the latters' sacrifice of their lives for the Lord a constantly examined motive for their own attitude right down to the concrete demands of day-to-day asceticism.14 In the j

persecution of Diocletian some of them had themselves been able to ,

experience the mood of death proper to Christians; they now esteemed as their immediate precursors the ascetics of the third century and their own struggles as an unbloody martyrdom, which likewise deserved the corona martyrii, since it was practiced from the same conviction as the bloody form.15

The following of Christ, supported by the concept of martyrdom, was finally preferably identified by early monasticism on a broad plane with j

the angelic life, that catchword that so drew people to asceticism; it was already used by the early Alexandrian theologians and helped to charac- 1

terize the premonastic asceticism of East and West. It was reached only by way of the apotaxis, the renunciation of the world, through enkrateia, to be practiced in body and soul, through the exercise of the specific І

monastic virtues of poverty, obedience, and virginity, which led to the 1

height of apatheia, the peaceful security in the possession of monastic 1

perfection. In its perfection the vita angelica of monasticism thus be- , f came a life in the community of the angels, an anticipated life in .

Paradise.16 With this a further motive for the monastic form of existence '

was touched upon, which did not, it is true, stand so prominently as '

others in the foreground, but was surely effective: the eschatological outlook of monasticism, which not only embraced the constant thought of one's own death, but also meant the conscious and wakeful expecta tion of the Lord's Parousia. A reawakening of the primitive Christian expectation of the Parousia is unmistakable in the early phase of monas ticism,17 and here there may be assumed at the earliest the influence of a certain disillusionment and sorrow over a legacy of the universal Early t

Christian enthusiasm, as it undeniably appears with the numerical '

growth of large Christian congregations in the period of peace of the third century.18 However, this must not be equated with a rejection or a

14 See the copious material in E. E. Malone, op. cit.

16 See vol. I, 295; also U. Ranke-Heinemann, op. cit., 97f.; also Jerome on the Corona de Liliis, which approaches the martyrdom of asceticism: Ep. 108, 31.

18 Cf. S. Frank, AITEAIK02 BIOS (Miinster 1964), which summarizes previous indi vidual studies on the subject.

20 Cf. U. Ranke-Heinemann, op. cit., 31f. j

22 Cf., for example, Origen, In Ierem. hom. 4, 3; Eusebius, HE 8, 1, 7-9. !

340 I

protest against the hierarchical Church as such or even only against the Church of the Empire of the fourth century, the problems of which did not take effect until monasticism had long been in a flourishing state and which therefore cannot be regarded as a cause for its origin.

With the realization of the following of Christ, thus understood, the Early Christian monk believed he could best fulfill two essential re quirements of the gospelЧthose of a genuine striving for perfection and of a true love of God. The Lord's words in Matthew 19:21, "if you wish to be perfect," not only directly produced in Antony the decision as to his vocation: to many monks of the early period they became a motive, always to be reflected on anew, for their way of life. Abbot Theodore designated the Pachomian system as the model for everyone who wanted to gather men around him in order to guide them to perfec tion. The motive of the love of God is sounded everywhere in the literature of Early Christian monasticism: it is the source on which its asceticism is nourished. When Basil wanted to retain his friend Gregory for monasticism, he referred him to this, that "he who loves God aban dons everything and withdraws into solitude with God"; Theodoret of Cyrrhus gave to his collection of monks' biographies the significant title of History of the Love of God.

It thus became clear that Early Christian monasticism regarded itself as the realization of the purely Christian ideal of perfection and hence must be understood as a genuinely Christian creation, for an explana tion of which a grasping at non-Christian models would be useless. The previously mentioned harmony between ascetical terminology and cer tain formulas of Hellenistic religious philosophy makes one think most easily of an indirect influence from this area, for example, by way of the teaching on perfection of Alexandrian theology, but this influence could be effective in a greater degree only in a later phase of monasticism, when educated men such as Evagrius Ponticus joined it in growing numbers. Among the early anchorites of Egypt and Syria, who mostly came from a lower social stratum, there were simply lacking the pre suppositions for a deeper knowledge both of Hellenistic philosophy and probably of Origen, who may be regarded as the pioneer of monasticism in that through his doctrine of perfection he helped create a climate favorable to it. And in regard to the Qumran sects, no ideological connection with later monasticism can be established, since their basic ideas directly contradicted the ideals of monasticism. To the Early Chris tian monk it would have been impossible to hate the sinner or to preach hatred of him; the consciousness of being an elect of the Sons of Light was just as foreign to him as the idea of ritual impurity, which at Qum ran constituted the negatively oriented motive for the renunciation of marriage and of personal property. Finally, the protest of the Qumran people against the "wickedness in the temple" as the reason for their seclusion in the desert was as different from the motive of the following of Christ as was the eschatological hope of the monks for the Lord's Parousia from Qumran's expectation of the end of time, which was to bring the Messianic Kingdom to earth after a holy war against the Sons of Darkness. Certain organizational similaritiesЧa period of trial be fore admission, manifestation of conscience to a superiorЧand a seed ed practice, such as the external attitude in prayer, forms of fasting, depreciation of the bodily, can be established everywhere as common features where the followers of a religion aim to realize their ideals in the purest form in a community of their own, even a loosely organized one, and in this connection one may think of the Manichaean or Bud dhist asceticism. Saint Ephrem pointedly expressed himself on this prob lem when he thus characterized the relationship between Syrian asceti cism and that of the Manichaeans: "Their works are similar to ours, their fasting is like ours, but their faith is not like our faith." The spirit on which the Early Christian monasticism lived was entirely different from that which externally similar religious tendencies or ways of behavior evoked. The question of the concrete occasion, which in the second half of the third century caused the turning of so many Christians to the monastic manner of life, can probably only be answered by saying that the ascetical ideal, long proclaimed in contemporary Christianity and already realized in an early form, was now so mature and strong that it pressed with an irresistible force for realization in an ultimately possible form, as this became tangible at the same time in Egypt and Syria.

II. DEVELOPMENT AND EXPANSION IN THE EAST 1. Egyptian Anchoritism. The Pachomians.

The Monasticism of the Deserts of Nitria and Scete

THE EGYPTIAN ANCHORITISM. The early form of Christian monasticism was embodied in the anchorites, those Christians who, from the second half of the third century in a rapidly growing number, added to the asceti cism hitherto practiced within the Christian community the permanent withdrawal from family and community. It became especially clearly discernible in Egyptian anchoritism, because in this case the state of the sources permits one of the richest glimpses into the development of early monasticism. A still recognizable intermediate stage between as ceticism and anchoritism, in which an ascetic withdrew temporarily into solitude, existed also in other geographical areas: thus in the first years of the third century the later Bishop of Jerusalem, Narcissus, and before the mid-century the Roman priest Novatian, "out of love for [another] philosophy," went for a while into solitude. Out of the world of Nova tian rigorism proceeded also the anchorite Eutychian, who shortly after 300 lived on Bithynian Olympus as a highly esteemed hermit, without its being possible to demonstrate a connection with Egyptian an choritism. That Egyptian anchoritism had existed long before the great Antony is proved by the figure of the hermit living in the vicinity of his native village, whom Antony sought out soon after his own embracing the life of an anchorite and made his model. Thus as the Early Chris tian asceticism in the cases just mentioned, apparently independent of one another, led to anchoritism in the vicinity of one's native village, so the latter in turn led to the stricter form of eremitism in the Egyptian desert. Here too a relatively early initial effort c. 300 is warranted, since a reliable report on the hermit Ammun presupposes the existence of some hermits in the Nitrian Desert and perhaps also in distant Scete long before his turning to anchoritism in common c. 320-330. When in several favored areas the settlements of the hermits grew in number, there occurred the formation of anchorite communities, loose associa tions in which the hermits gathered around a monk of high repute who was to be their spiritual adviser and father, without, however, the posi tion of superior of this community being given to him in the sense of an "abbot," for example, through a definite rule. Such groups of ancho rites, which often united a considerable number of hermits, living sepa rate from one another in their huts or other lodgings (cells), are fre quently mentioned in the apophthegmata literature and the related descriptions of anchoritism of the Historia Lausiaca of Palladius and the Historia monachorum. Thus in the Upper Egyptian Thebaid were the monks Or, Apollo, Pityrion, and Copres, "fathers of many brothers"; in the area of Arsinoe hermits flocked around the Abbot Serapion, who was also a priest. The highest repute was gained by the colonies of anchorites of Lower Egypt, which were formed southwest of the Nile Delta in the wildernesses of Nitria and Scete.

Antony the Great (c. 251-356), however, who overshadowed all the others, was regarded in the early monastic literature as the "Father" of a community of anchorites, first because his charismatic gift of leadership made him a unique spiritual guide ever more sought out by the hermits, and then because his biography, composed by the Bishop of Alexandria, Athanasius, who knew him personally, assigned him a singular position in the development of Egyptian monasticism. The special character and tendency of this account, whose authenticity can no longer be doubted, must, of course, be noted, if one wants to obtain an accurate picture of Antony's life from the incidents and individual features here related. It has been rightly said that it offers no photograph of the saint but rather the work of a painter, who, so far as he can, aspires to reproduce the reality in which Antony lived. As early as the first period of his anchoretic life, in which Antony lived in the burial cham bers of the cemetery near his native village, are found essential charac teristics of Egyptian monasticism: manual labor, prayer, and reading of Scripture. On each monk who had made progress, however, there was laid a task which he could not evade: the struggle with the demon, who played an especially ample role in the life of Antony. It was ultimately a struggle with all the forces opposed to God, which had to consist of an ever new start and could be endured only in faith. Since a person was most strongly exposed to the demonic in the extreme solitude of the desert, that was precisely where he took his stand and best proved his monastic character. Only one who had stood this final test could be a guide and adviser to others in their struggles. Thus, when he was about thirty-five years old, Antony also left the vicinity of his home and pro ceeded to an abandoned fort on the other side of the Nile on the edge of the desert, which for twenty years was the scene of his struggle.37 When he again left it in order to strengthen in their courage as confessors the Christians imprisoned at Alexandria in the persecution of Diocletian,38 he came forward "as from a holy shrine, initiated into deep mysteries and as one filled with God."39 He stayed for some years in this fort, but now as "father" of many hermits,40 until he went still deeper into the desert c. 313, to the "inner mountain," some distance from the west bank of the Red Sea, but here too he was soon sought out by many "brothers" who wanted his advice and by clerics and lay persons who begged his aid.41 Antony fully shared of the wisdom he had thus gained with the anchorites in his conversations, which Athanasius put together in long discourses; in them, despite all the rhetorical ornament, resound the Pauline ideas of demonic powers, which are overcome only by faith in the power of Christ. Antony attributes ultimately to this power his insight into the nature of the demonic and its power.42

CENOBITISM OF THE PACHOMIANS. In fact, it was an anchorite who had gone through Pauline school who understood that many a monk was imper illed rather than protected by this severest type of eremitism, and that therefore he was in need of a life in a community which gave him both a foundation and support through the brothers and through a spiritual adviser accessible at any time and at the same time made him equal to the numerous ascetical renunciations which a life in common imposed. Pakhome, or Pachomius, born in the Upper Thebaid c. 287, as a young soldier under Maximinus Daia had come into contact with Christianity and after his military discharge had been baptized and then attached himself to a hermit named Palamon.43 After spending several years as a hermit, he established a monastic community near the Upper Egyptian village of Tabennisi between 320 and 325: the members, by accepting a rule he had composed, bound themselves to realizing an ascetical man ner of life in common that was the same for all, under the direction of a superior.44 In this way Pachomius became the founder of cenobitism,

37 Ibid. 11-12.

39 Ibid. 46.

41 Ibid. 14.

43 Ibid. 15.

45 Ibid. 49-50; 61-64; 68; 72.

47 Ibid. 5; 7; 9; 11; 30; 39; 40; 74-80; 83-84.

49 T. Lefort, Vies copies, 84; Vita graeca I, 12.

51 The Coptic sources, especially Vies copies, 67-69, report somewhat hazily of a first unsuccessful effort of this sort. The "Rule" is completely preserved only in Jerome's Latin translation. To the various Coptic versions must be added the Greek lives of Pachomius, of which the Vita prima is the most important, as well as Arabic and Syriac texts. On the extremely complex problem of their reciprocal relations, see finally A. Veilleux, op. cit., 11-107.

which since then has never ceased to be practiced and was first to give to Christian monasticism its specifically religious and cultural effectiveness. This was true even when, for example, simultaneous foundations of a similar type could not be excluded, since only to the work of Pachomius can really creative significance be assigned, which was based on his personality and was recognized as such by his contemporaries as well as by future ages. Certainly, for the first Pachomian monastery at Tabennisi, as well as for the monastic Rule, a rather long period of growth and maturation must be assumed, during which the ideas of the founder were clarified, especially the details. Hence, in its extant form, the Pachomian Rule and the biographies of him reflect a certain completing of the monastic development.

The exterior structure of a Pachomian monastery makes clear the new concept as opposed to anchoritism. The entire area of the monastery was surrounded by a wall and hence stressed its separation from the world: it could be entered only through the porter's quarters. As its center may be regarded the great room (synaxisЧecclesia) in which the monks gathered for the liturgy. The refectory for all the inhabitants of the monastery also underlined the community character of the new foundation. The community, directed by the "father of the monas tery," beside whom stood a substitute, did not, however, live in a large continuous building, but was spread out in a series of houses, whose thirty to forty inmates were appointed for the most part to special duties in the service of the communityЧweavers, gardeners, bakers, fishers, shepherdsЧand were subject to their own house-superior or a "second" respectively. The monastic community obtained its support partly through the work of monks again occupied in their former craft, the products of which were to some extent sold, and partly through the management of property which was acquired near the monastery. Two traits of the Pachomian form were already noteworthy, which could easily have become a danger for the real ideal. One was the numerical size of the community, which certainly included several hundred monks. This could only, in the long run, make heavier the function of the abbot, who should be the spiritual father of all his monks, or at least make it questionable. Second, the economic planning for the manage ment of the large monastery led of itself to the acquisition of important property, finally to wealth and economic power, which for their part could gradually threaten the ideal of poverty.

At first, however, the central religious idea under which Pachomius made his foundation remained decisive, namely, that of a holy commu nity (koinonia) which was supposed to orient itself expressly to the community ideal of the primitive congregation. Just like the latter, the Pachomian community was to be manifested not only in separation from the world and the renunciation of personal possessions, but primar ily in the common striving for salvation. "All should be a help to you, and you should assist all." This saying of Pachomius to his monks was again and again taken up by his successors, with variations. For his beloved pupil Theodore there could be no more serious offense against the holy community than that a brother should become a scandal to another. Horsiesi implored his monks not to limit themselves to care for their own salvation, but out of love for the brother one should become the servant of the other, and thus all represent "God's own family." Offenses against fraternal charity were, then, especially se verely blamed in the Rule of Pachomius and in the teaching of the Pachomian abbots, because they seriously jeopardized the basic law of Pachomianism, the hiera koinonia.

The Pachomian community received the strength to realize its basic law from a life in and with the Holy Scripture. A painstaking examina tion of all important sources for Pachomian cenobitism has here led to a significant correcting of the earlier thesis concerning the aloofness of Early Christian monasticism from the Bible. A glance at the letters and instructions of Pachomius reveals that he himself had a broad and deep knowledge of the Bible and was able to use it in all earnestness in the religious guidance of his monks. Moreover, he aspired to educate all monks to a familiarity with the Bible and knew how to do so. Hence the Rule sharply inculcated that the individual monk should learn parts of Scripture by heart, and that the illiterate must learn to read for that purpose. The order of the day in the monastery offered abundant opportunity "to meditate" on Scripture, that is, to recite to oneself the texts learned by heart. An intimate acquaintance with the Bible also characterized the Pachomian Abbot Horsiesi, whom Gennadius praised in his catalogue of writers as a "holy man, perfectly versed in Scrip ture." In a supplement to the Rule that probably goes back to him, it is said in an instruction to the house-superiors that the religious instruc tion of the monks should be accomplished "in accord with Holy Scrip ture," and those superiors should be regarded as good to whom Scrip ture was the norm of their performance of their office. The individual prescriptions of the Rule were explained by a commentary of Horsiesi in a constant recourse to the Bible.

In complete consistency there proceeded from the Pachomian basic law of koinonia another essential feature of Pachomianism: the funda mental equality of all monks in their obligation to the Rule. To all without exception applied its prescriptions in regard to clothing, food, furnishing of their cells, manual labor, as well as in regard to the form of the religious life. There was no place here for the individualism, some times assuming bizarre forms, of separate anchorites in their manner of life nor for their subjective attitudes of asceticism and piety. With a surer look Pachomius understood that the inclination to spectacular ascetical feats often derived from very questionable motives. He had the instinct to know that each superior in the Pachomian system also had to be under the law of the Rule, if he did not want to compromise his authority in principle. Ultimately it was also care for the preservation of this uniform koinonia which determined Pachomius only rarely to ac cept priests into his community and to refuse the priesthood for him self, an attitude which was therefore, but quite incorrectly, interpreted as proof of a tension between early monasticism and the hierarchical Church. For there are unambiguous testimonies for a high estimation of the priest on the part of Pachomius, which he tried to communicate to his monks also. Further, such a view contradicts the continual and close contact of the monastic founder with his local bishop and above all with Athanasius, which was transmitted to his successors, and their relations with the hierarchy.

However, the uniformity in the Pachomian monastery was assured in the long run only if two presuppositions were fulfilled: the poverty of the individual as a radical renunciation of any personal possession, of every independent ability to dispose even of things of daily use, and unconditional obedience toward superiors of every rank. Apparently Pachomius found the definitive type of the cenobitic ideal of poverty only after an experiment with the form of relative poverty practiced in groups of anchoritesЧresponsibility of the individual, at least for food and clothingЧwhich, however, led to serious disadvantages.67 Now possessions which were necessary for the life of a large monastery be came the "property of Christ,"68 which the monk could use only under obedience. Obedience, as the Pachomians understood it, differed from that of the anchorite in regard to his spiritual father not only in degree but in principle. Among the anchorites it was at times almost a technical training, which aimed to make the self-will and the private judgment so submissive that the monk, after achieving its highest form, could be sent forth into self-reliance; whereas, according to Pachomius, it was an unal terably permanent attitude which should cause the monk to grow to perfection in and through his community. The prescriptions of the Pachomian Rule on the meaning and importance of poverty and obedi ence in the monastery of cenobites were never essentially improved by later monastic rules, and this too is evidence of the creative significance of the Coptic monastic founder.

A further characteristic of the Rule of Pachomius must bring into prominence the following other features. It was of an emphatic simplic ity in form, which permitted the gradual growth of the ascetical percep tion of its author to be discerned. Pachomius was not concerned for a planned, systematic structure and did not aspire to an impressive formu-

lation of his thoughts. Likewise, the objective content of the regulations here assembled were simple in a definite sense: in them is not found an expression of a theologically based ascetical theory, such as, for exam ple, the doctrine of perfection which the Alexandrian theologians of fered. Finally, a balance in individual ascetical demands, determined by a deep knowledge of souls, was a special characteristic of this Rule. It sought, as a binding norm for all the members of the monastery, a prudent average, which on the one hand left full scope for more expres sion of personal initiative, and on the other hand punished transgres sions against the norm with penalties that always respected the inner dignity of the person.

Corresponding to the elevated religious quality of Pachomius's Rule was its far-reaching impact on the future,70 which was, however, more strongly evident for the Latin West than for the East. Thus it can be assumed that, for his concept of cenobitism, Basil was influenced by the Pachomian monasteries he visited in 357, even though occasionally in the form of a critical judgment on individual features; thus a literary dependence of his asceticism on the Rule of Pachomius is not sure.71 Its impact is due especially to the translation by Jerome, which he made in 404 from the Greek for monks, originally from the Latin West, of the Pachomian monastery of Metanoia in Canopus near Alexandria. After him it was especially John Cassian, who, as Abbot at Marseille (d. c. 430), through his De institutis coenobiorum directed interest toward the Pachomian system.72 In the so-called Regula Vigilii, which probably originated in Italy c. 500, there appeared a revision of Pachomius's Rule, and later in the sixth century the rules of two bishops of Aries, Caesarius and Aurelius, unmistakably show its influence.73 In Italy also it was adapted to the needs of the local monasteries before Benedict, who himself in his Regula monasteriorum often made use of it, but as a master.74 In the ninth century Benedict of Aniane (d. 821), in the coui.se of the reform of Frankish monasticism, again assured a wider influence to the Rule of Pachomius, when he admitted it to his collec tion of rules then known and often appealed to it for individual re forms.75 Finally, its long-range effect can be established at the beginning

70 See C. de Clercq, Melanges L. Halphen (Paris 1951), 169-175, and H. Bacht, Liturgie und Monchtum H. 11 (1952), 92-96.

72 J. Gribomont, Theologie de la Vie monastique . . . ,11 If.

74 See Book 4, 1; 4,4; 4, 10; 4, 17; 4, 30, 2, and the corresponding examples in the issue of SChr 109 (1965).

76 On the Regula orientalis see Boon, op. cit., XLIIff. and A. Mundo, StudMon 9 (1967), 231; on Caesarius and Aurelius of Aries, DACL 2, 3199-3205; 11, 1864.

78 H. Bacht, op. cit. 95f.

75PL 103, 423-702, 717-1380.

I 350

of modern times, since it served as a model for details of the constitu tions of the Society of Jesus.

The Pachomian ideal of koinonia quickly displayed its power of attrac tion. A group of monks from Tabennisi made a new foundation in the village of Phbow (Pabau), some miles down the river. Two already existing independent "monasteries" in the same place asked admittance to the Pachomian communityЧthey were the monasteries of Scheneset (Chenoboskeion) and Tmuschons (Monchosis)Чand thereby submitted to the Pachomian Rule, whose correct observance was assured by the fact that Pachomius assigned monks from his own foundation to these monasteries. He himself moved c. 337 from Tabennisi to Phbow, which thereafter became the chief monastery and motherhouse of the Pacho mian system. With the founding of new monasteries and the accepting of existing monastic communities, Pachomius had taken a decisive new step. He had called into being the first "Order" in the history of Chris tian monasticism, for all the monasteries recognized his Rule as the basis of the koinonia and saw in him the common superior-general of the monastic union. This first group of four monasteries was followed in the lifetime of the abbot-general, Pachomius, by other foundations, one in the district of Latopolis, four in the area around Panopolis (Akhim) some sixty miles down the Nile, and finally even two monasteries of nuns: hence at the death of the founder in 346 the Order included eleven settlements. Beside the abbot-general was an economus, by whom the economic administration of all the monasteries was con trolled. The unity of the Order was maintained by frequent visitation journeys of the superior-general and by a "general chapter," held semiannually, which brought together all Pachomian monks into the motherhouse of Phbow, first for the common celebration of Easter and for religious renewal, then again in the summer to discuss the periodic economic and organizational questions of the Order.

In a summary of the lot of the Pachomian Order down to the Council of Chalcedon two figures are especially prominent from the time of the founder, and each was significant for the community in his own way. Horsiesi had, as a youth, joined Pachomius at Tabennisi and was ap pointed by him superior of the monastery of Scheneset. When Pachomius's successor, Petronius, shortly before his death in 347, ap pointed him as abbot-general, Horsiesi assumed this function not with out anxiety, since he knew the limits of his ability for the leadership of a great Order. It soon became clear what the authority of the founder had meant for the cohesion and the spirit of the community. In his visita tions Horsiesi repeatedly had occasion to point out that it was not in keeping with this spirit for individual monks to strive openly for posi tions in the Order. Still more distressing was the knowledge that the economic interests of monasteries acquired as property were threaten ing to obscure the original ideal of poverty and paralyzed the ascetical energy of the foundation period. A surge of secularization was laying hold of most of the monasteries and led in the second generation of cenobitism to an Early Christian "poverty controversy," when the abbot of the monastery of Tmuschons rebelled against Horsiesi's demands, worked successfully in other monasteries for a more moderate obser vance, and finally threatened the secession of his monastery from the Order. Since Horsiesi was unable to control this situation, he sum moned the former Abbot of Tabennisi, Theodore, to Phbow, made him his vicar, and withdrew to his former monastery of Scheneset.

With Theodore the external direction of the Order was assumed by a monk who had once been Pachomius's favorite disciple, had been early named by him as Abbot of Tabennisi, and finally had become his close collaborator at Phbow. As "vicar" of Horsiesi, but in constant consul tation with him, he gradually restored discipline by discretion and energy, saved the imperiled unity of the Order, and, in the eighteen years of his vicarship (350-368), by means of visitations of the monas teries, his instructions for the monks, and his constant appeal to the spirit of the founder, again led the koinonia to internal and external growth, so that at his death it counted twelve houses of monks and three of nuns. Horsiesi had to carry responsibility for the direction of the Order alone for four more yearsЧhe died after 386Чbut he tried to do justice to his task through his own gifts of a deep interiority and a piety nourished on the Bible. In regard to the ideals that he desired as charac teristics of the Pachomian Order, a document from his pen, which has been rightly named his testament, inform us. In the so-called Liber Orsiesii he urgently called upon his monks, with constant appeal to the legacy handed down from their father Pachomius, to uncompromising poverty, to the preservation of the koinonia through a joyful participa tion in the ordering of the monastic life, and finally to a living on Holy Scripture, which must be the foundation of their ascetical striving.

For the period after Horsiesi's death, the sources for the history of the Pachomian Order flow in trickles only. True, there was an important new foundation on the Egyptian coast of the Mediterranean, where Theophilus of Alexandria c. 390 had the Pachomian monastery of Metanoia built in place of the shrine of Sarapis at Canopus, which he had destroyed. In it monks from the Latin West also joined the Pacho mian system, and for them Jerome translated the Rule of Pachomius from a Greek version into their mother tongue in 404. C. 400 and later, authors often mention the Pachomians but only in a very general way, so that not even the names of the abbots-general after Horsiesi are known. The abbot of a particular monastery is occasionally named, such as Victor of Tabennisi, who took part in the Council of Ephesus in 431, or Martyrius of Phbow, who had a large church built in honor of the Order's founder. However, the silence of the sources cannot be regarded simply as a sign of a decay of the cenobitic ideal. In the second half of the fourth century there arose right in Upper Egypt two other cenobia which, it is true, did not join the Pachomian Order, but one of which made the expanded Pachomian Rule its norm of life. This, still partly standing today, was the so-called White Monastery near the vil lage of Atripe, which the Copt Pgol founded and which obtained histor ical importance through his nephew Schenute of Atripe (c. 333-451). As to the nature and aims of this man, his many letters and speeches, whereby he became the founder of the Coptic national literature, give more copious information than the eulogistic biography by his succes sor, Besa. Without any doubt, Schenute was an impressive figure, on whom however his lack of balance and the impetuosity of his tempera ment cast many a shadow. His ascetical strictness, tending to rigorism, occasionally burdened his monks excessively: at times he punished fail ings against the Rule with brutal chastisements. He censured in fiery words abuses in the life of Egyptian Christians, and he proceeded with fanatical hatred against the remnant of paganism. Outside his monastery he worked, without being a theologian himself, through partisanship for the view of the Alexandrian patriarchs in the Christological strife of his day, as well as through his relations, by means of letters, with the leading personalities. He himself stood in an unresolved tension be tween the cenobitic and the anchoretic ideal, which often led him for rather long periods into solitude and operated negatively on the inner harmony of the White Monastery. The not slight power of attraction of his community, despite everything, was conditioned by its purely Cop tic character. The consequent limitation impeded Schenute's influence from reaching beyond the boundaries of Egypt, such as fell so richly to the lot of Pachomian cenobitism because of its openness and prudence: Schenute let himself be all too little influenced by its spirit.

THE MONASTICISM OF THE DESERTS OF NITRIA AND SCETE. In addition to the Thebaid, Egyptian monasticism had another important area of coloniza tion in Lower Egypt on the northern border area of the Libyan Desert, which extended from the south by way of the base-line of the triangle Rosetta-Cairo-El-Alamein to the area west of the Nile Delta. The old sources early distinguished three centers of gravity of monastic settle ment here, whose exact geographical situation could be clarified only very recently. The first lay in the vicinity of the village of Nitria (today Barnugi), the entrance to the Libyan Desert, about nine leagues south west of ancient Hermopolis Parva (today Damankur). One day's march farther south from Nitria lay the Kellia (ta kellia), a settlement of widely scattered monks' huts, which had a church as its center. The third center of gravity was about forty leagues south of Nitria in the so-called Desert of Scete (he Sketis), modern Wadi-el-Natrun, where even today a salt and soda enterprise exploits the presence of sodium there.

A relatively abundant source material gives information about the monasticism of Lower Egypt also. The Historia monachorum, a travel story, which was written in Greek c. 400, perhaps by the Alexandrian deacon Timothy, and was revised a few years later by Rufinus in Latin, reproduces the impressions of a traveling party which c. 395 had come from Jerusalem to visit the monastic colonies of the Thebaid as far as

Diolcus on the Mediterranean. Some twenty years later (419-420) Bishop Palladius of Helenopolis in Bithynia published his description, based on his own observation, of contemporary monasticism in Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Asia Minor; called Historia Lausiaca because it was dedicated to a chamberlain, Lausus, it is in the form of brief edifying biographies, which show many legendary features. Especially rewarding for a knowledge of the spiritual, religious atmosphere of Egyptian monasticism are the so-called Apophthegmata Patrum (Sayings of the Fathers), in the Greek original a collection, arranged alphabetically ac cording to the names of eminent monks and often composed of anec dotes, of religious and ascetical instructions or symbolic acts of the Fathers, which an editor compiled soon after 500Чit was known to the Rule of BenedictЧfrom oral and written material in circulation.

The first monk to settle on Mount Nitria, soon after 330, was Am- mun, a native of the Delta area; he built there two cells, in which he lived for twenty-two years. Only a few years later the number of monks had so grown that some of them desired a greater solitude and built for themselves new cells some leagues farther to the south, from which grew the settlement of the Kellia; it remained in contact with the Nitrian colony and toward the close of the century included approxi mately 600 monks. On Mount Nitria lived anchorites in the strict sense, alongside others who united in quasi-monasteries, which num bered as many as 200 monks. The center of the settlement was a large church, in which the monks assembled on Saturdays and Sundays to celebrate the liturgy. To perform it and to see to preaching and admini stration there were in Palladius's time eight priests among the monks. The many visitors were received in a special hospice. The reputation of the Nitrian monks led to the selecting of bishops for Egyptian sees from their ranks quite early.

However, the highest esteem was enjoyed by the monasticism of Scete, for this was a desert in the full sense of the word (he paneremos), whose wildness made the greatest demands on the physical and moral strength of the hermits. One who could cope with them had passed the most severe test and was counted among those monks who "in perfec tion and wisdom towered over all who dwelt in the monasteries of Egypt."101 Macarius the Egyptian, after a long itinerant life of asceticism, was the first to discover the route to Scete c. 330, and, during the sixty years that he lived hereЧfrom c. 340 as a priestЧhe became the undis puted spiritual father of the hermits of Scete.102 In Scete too the number of monks grew rapidly: toward the end of the fourth century they were divided into four semianchoretic communities, from time to time cared for by a priest.103 But the real direction belonged to the Old Fathers (,gerontes), to whom God had given the charism of the enlightening "word." The beginner subjected himself to them in order to be intro duced into the meaning of monastic life, and around them assembled all who were striving for a higher perfection. "Father, say a word to me on how I may be saved": this is the formula constantly repeated in the Apophthegmata whereby the monk asked the saving help of the Old Father, who thus became the living "rule" in place of the written Rule of the Pachomian monasteries. The "words" of the Old Fathers did not, of course, proclaim any profound "theology of monasticism," since they took a rather skeptical view of theological speculation and hence treated with mistrust the learned monks in their ranks, such as Evagrius Pon- ticus.104

The last two decades of the fourth century have been labeled the Golden Age of the monasticism of Nitria and Scete. It came to an end when Bishop Theophilus of Alexandria, in his conflict with real or al leged adherents of Origen, withdrew his former favor from the monks of Lower Egypt, bitterly persecuted them, and thereby put many of them to flight from c. 400 on.105 A more severe blow struck the colonies of Scete in 407-8, when the barbarian tribe of the Maziken made a plundering attack, an episode which older fathers interpreted as pun ishment for the loss of the genuine monastic spirit of earlier years.106 In crowds they then abandoned their cells, most never to returnЧamong them John Kolobus, superior of one of the four anchorite communities of Scete, the famed Poimen with his brothers, and also the highly es teemed Arsenius, allegedly of a Roman senatorial family, to whom the Apophthegmata attribute the despairing saying: "The world has lost Rome"Чan allusion to the taking of Rome by Alaric in 410Ч"the

1U1 Cassian, Collat. 10, 2, 3; cf. J. C. Guy, "Le centre monastique de Scete dans la litterature du Ve siecle," OrChrP 30 (1964), 129-147.

102 Palladius, Hist. Laus. 17; Apophth., Macarius.

103

104 Cassian, I.e., see D. J. Chitty, The Desert A City, 35.

105

106 J. C. Guy, "Les Apophthegmata Patrum" Theologie de la vie monastique, 73-83; Apophth., Evagrius, no. 7.

107

108 See H. G. Evelyn White, op. cit., 125-144.

109

110 D. J. Chitty, The Desert A City, 66f.

111

monks, Scete."107 Other later plundering expeditions further weakened the settlements at Scete. The four monasteries still standing in the Desert of Scete and still partly inhabited, with their strong walls and defense towers, from the sixth to the ninth centuries, make known that the monks of later times still had to assure themselves against incursions by the desert tribes.108

2. Monasticism in Palestine and Syria

The biblical past of the Sinai Peninsula makes it understandable that from the fourth century it became not only the goal of many a pilgrim to the Holy Land but also a favorite site of settlement of early monasti cism.109 The monk Silvanus, originally from Palestine, with a group of twelve disciples who had gathered around him in the desert of Scete, came to Mount Sinai c. 380, and there he stayed for several years before founding a new monastic colony at Gerasa in Palestine. One of his pupils, Netras, was summoned to occupy the episcopal cathedra of Pha- ran in the peninsula.110 When, between 381 and 384, the pilgrim Egeria visited Mount Sinai, there were many anchorites' huts on its slopes and at the summit a small church, in which the monks asembled to cele brate the liturgy.111 Apparently the types of anchoritism of Lower Egypt were adopted here. The great age of Sinaitic monasticism began, how ever, only with the founding of a monastery of cenobites by the Em peror Justinian I. The monastic settlements near the port city of Rhaitou on the east bank of the Gulf of Suez also go back to the fourth century, even though the report by one Ammonius of a raid by the Blemmyes on Rhaitou, in which forty monks were killed, merits no credence.112

The Holy Land could not but exert an especially strong power of attraction on the budding monasticism. It is true that the first steps here are in darkness but the beginning of the activity of Saint Chariton must

112 Apophthegmata under John Kolobos and Poimen, Arsenius, no. 21.

113

114 On the later history of the monasticism of Scete see H. G. Evelyn White, op. cit., 217ff.

115

116 Cf. D. Gorce, "Pelerins et residents du Sinai des premiers siecles de l'ere chretienne," L. Prevost (ed.), Le Sinai (Paris 1937), 127-182.

117

no Apophth., Silvanus, especially nos. 4-5; Sozomen,HE 6, 32, 8; Netras: Apophtb., s.v.

111 Itinerarium Egeriae 3-5; the monasteria (plurima) 4, 6, are here clearly the lodgings of the monks. For the chronological start of the Itinerarium see P. Delvos, AnBoll 85 (1967), 165-194.

112

113 The Egyptian monk Sisoes repeatedly encountered the monk Ammon of Rhaithou: Apophth., Sisoes, nos. 17, 26. On Ammonius's report see R. Devreesse, "Le chris tianisme dans la peninsule sinaitique des origines a l'arrivee des musulmans," RB 49 (1940), 205-233.

114

be placed c. 330. According to his vita, written in the sixth century, he came as a pilgrim from Iconium in Asia Minor to Palestine and had his cell at Pharan, northeast of Jerusalem; from it developed the "Laura of Saint Chariton." With the word laura is obtained the designation for the specifically Palestinian type of monastic settlement, in which the cells of the monks, situated close to one another, were erected around a center of the colony, which, in addition to other buildings, included the church, in which all members of the laura gathered for worship on Saturdays and Sundays. The vita ascribed in Chariton the founding of two more lauras, one at Duha near Jericho, the other at Suka, which probably lay south of Bethlehem. These three lauras going back to Chariton are attested elsewhere too for the fourth century. While for them no dependence on Egyptian prototypes can be demonstrated, the two other monastic foundations of the fourth century in Palestine were more surely closely linked with Egyptian monasticism. Hilarion, to whom before 392 Jerome devoted a much read brief biography that glorified him to an heroic degree, had studied at Alexandria, then spent some time with Antony the Great, and after his return to his native Palestine lived, first, for about twenty years, following the Egyptian anchoretic manner, near Maiuma, the port of Gaza. Later he left Pales tine and, after a long wandering life, died on Cyprus c. 370. Even if some details of his vita by Jerome are questionable, still the defined historical framework is acceptable. Perhaps even Epiphanius, the later Bishop of Salamis on Cyprus, was Jerome's source; in any event, he became acquainted with monasticism in Egypt and then founded near his Palestinian birthplace, Besanduk near Eleutheropolis, a monastic community, which he governed for thirty years.

Of great importance for the further development of Palestinian monasticism in the fifth and sixth centuries was a foreigner, Euthymius, from Melitene in Lesser Armenia, who came to Palestine in 405 and lived first in a cell near the Chariton laura of Pharan. With a friend he found here, Theoctistus, he settled six years later in the present Wadi Mukellik west of Qumran. When other monks joined them, they first wanted to establish a laura of the Pharan type, but then decided for a cenobium, the direct control of which was assumed by Theoctistus, while

Euthymius lived in a nearby cave as spiritual adviser. Here he made contact with a Bedouin tribe, which he gained for Christianity and whose sheik, at his suggestion, was ordained by Bishop Juvenal of Jerusalem as first "Bishop of the Camp." Euthymius was also active as a missionary when he spent some time in the wildernesses of Ruban and Ziph, south of Hebron. After his return he founded, following some resistance, in the vicinity of the monastery of Theoctistus a laura, from which, after his death in 473, the whole cenobitic complex became the monastery of Euthymius. Here for four decades Euthymius was the outstanding figure of Palestinian monasticism and continued to have an impact through his disciples, among whom, besides Theoctistus and others, were Domnus, later Bishop of Antioch, Stephen, later Bishop of Jamnia, Martyuris, later Bishop of Jerusalem, Abbot Gerasimus, and the young Sabas, who was destined to become the preserver and enlarger of the Euthymian monastic ideal in the sixty years after his teacher's death. Euthymius was responsible for that custom which characterized the relation of cenobium and laura in Palestine and was made by Abbot Sabas the norm: the young monk was first schooled in the cenobium and only after a certain testing by his abbot was he freed for the harder demands of the semianchoretic form of life of the laura.

Also worthy of mention as a monastic founder was another foreigner, who came from the Georgian princely house of Nabarnugi, lived first as a hostage at the court of the Emperor Theodosius II at Constantinople, then fled to Jerusalem c. 429, soon became a monk there and founded in Jerusalem a hospice for pilgrims and the poor, from which grew "the Monastery of the Iberians." Peter the IberianЧthis was his name as a monkЧhad to leave his Jerusalem monastery because of his Monophy- site views, lived near Gaza, and in 453 became Bishop of Maiuma. The controversies over Chalcedon forced him to flee again, first to Egypt, then to Phoenicia, where he died in 488. Under Bishop Juvenal, Palestinian monasticism obtained an "archimandrite of the monks" in the person of the Cborepiscopus Passarion. This incident shows that indi vidual bishops quite early were striving for a close binding of monasti- cism to the Church. Then the Council of Chalcedon enacted the canonical rule which subordinated the monastic system in principle to episcopal supervision.

LATIN MONASTERIES IN PALESTINE. Sooner or later eastern monasticism had to exercise its power of attraction on the Latin West also, which had already obtained authentic accounts of the new asceticism from Athanasius, when he was at Trier in 335, at Rome in 340-43, at Aquileia in 345, and could soon become enthusiastic about these forms of Christian life when Athanasius's Life of Antony had become accessible to it in a Latin translation. Before long individual Christians were in Egypt and Palestine, but only on Palestinian soil did there arise monasteries which were founded by Latins and which received a special character from them.

Among the three monastic foundations to be mentioned here from the period before Chalcedon, a woman from the Roman aristocracy always took part in a decisive way with her resources and her ascetical enthusiasm. The first was Melania the Elder, born c. 341, who, fol lowing the death of her husband, Valerius Maximus, Prefect of the City in 361-63, joined an ascetic circle, journeyed to Egypt c. 372, and after a visit to the monastic settlements on the Nitrian range came to Palestine. At Alexandria she may have made the acquaintance of Rufinus of Aquileia, with whom c. 380 she founded a double monastery on Mount Olivet, for whose support she supplied the means. In this very first Latin settlement there was established a characteristic which would appear normal also in the later Latin foundations: the lively inter est in ascetical and theological literature. After a prolonged stay in the West, during which she visited her cousin Paulinus at Nola in 400 and Augustine at Hippo in 404, Melania died in her monastery on Mount Olivet c. 410, whereas Rufinus, who had left Palestine in 397, never returned there.

The second Latin monastic foundation was the common work of Jerome and the eminent Roman lady, Paula the Elder. The former had lived since soon after 372 as an anchorite in the desert of Chalcis southeast of Antioch but felt unequal to the demands of the life and had returned to Rome, where he took care of an ascetical circle of promi nent ladies. In 385 he left Italy with several monks because of a strong antimonastic movement and went to Palestine; some months later Paula, with her daughter Eustochium, followed him there. After a visit to the monastic colonies at Nitria they went back to Palestine and in 386 selected Bethlehem as their permanent abode. In the next three years a convent of nuns and a monastery of monks arose here, and also a hospice for pilgrims, for the building of which Paula was responsible. The nuns were divided into three groups according to their social back ground, each with its own superiorЧsuch an arrangement presupposes a not insignificant number of members. The community of the monastery of men was smaller, but the intellectual prestige of its superior, Jerome, gave it great importance. The house that he directed, in which the Latin liturgy was to a great extent retained, was not only a center of pastoral care, which attended to the catechumens and Chris tians of the vicinity, but it became, especially for many pilgrims from the West, a welcome Latin island in the Holy Land. In addition, Jerome's monastery played a role in the confrontations on the burning religious questions of the dayЧthe controversy over Origen, PelagianismЧand through the active correspondence which its abbot maintained became a powerful source of information on the Christian East for Latin Christianity, from which proceeded numerous stimuli to the monasticism of the West. After Paula's death in 404, her daughter Eustochium assumed the direction of the nuns for the next fifteen years; she died c. 419. The tradition was continued by her niece, Paula the Younger, who had come to Palestine c. 415 and who became an eager disciple of Jerome. He himself died on 30 September 419 or 420 at Bethlehem, and with his death information on his monastery ceased.

The third Latin monastic complex in Jerusalem owed its origin to the noble Roman husband and wife, Pinian and Melania the Younger, granddaughter of Melania the Elder. After the early death of their two children, they decided on the ascetic life and placed their vast wealth at the service of this ideal. Fleeing before Alaric's Goths, they spent the year 410 in Sicily together with Melania's mother Albina, and there they met Rufinus. After that they lived for seven years on their North Afri can property, were in contact with Augustine, and, after the now obligatory visit to Egypt in 417, settled definitively in Jerusalem. At first the Egyptian experience motivated them to a more anchoretic life, but then its burdens induced Melania to build a convent for nuns; after her husband's death in 432, a monastery for monks followed. A young monk Gerontius, encouraged by the couple, gradually developed into its superior; he later wrote the biography of his benefactor. It was in accord with the tradition of Jerome that these Latin foundations of the fifth century also displayed theological interests. But the greater force of attraction proceeded this time from the abundant charitable activity of the founder and her relationships with the aristocracy, which brought Melania into contact with the court of Constantinople and especially with the Empress Eudocia, whom she could welcome in her convent and accompany on a journey to the Holy Land. With Melania's death on 31 December 439 her foundations passed into Greek hands and thereby gradually lost their Latin character.

SYRIAN MONASTICISM. Early Christian monasticism found an eminently fa vorable climate in the larger Syrian area, whose Christian population quickly showed itself responsive to the ascetical ideal to an especially strong degree. The Encratite movement of the second century, with its stern demands for renunciation of marital rights and abstinence from wine and meat for every Christian, here found a stronger echo than in other regions to which Christianity had expanded. In East Syria as late even as the fourth century the reception of baptism was often joined to the commitment to a life in poverty and complete continence, so that the baptized, as "Sons and Daughters of the Covenant," represented the elite of the Church whereas other Christians continued in the cate- chumenate. It is, however, incorrect to refer these features proper to Syrian Christianity exclusively to Persian or Manichaean influ ences, as well as to regard the whole early Syrian Church as a purely ascetical movement and to derive from this the early monasticism of this district, characterized by it. In the question, very recently again dis cussed, whether Syrian monasticism was autochthonous in its origin, that is, independent of any Egyptian influence, it is permissible to as sume for early eremitism the possibility of an independent develop ment from the strict asceticism in the pre-Constantinian Syrian Church.

But in the post-Constantinian period the Egyptian example more cer tainly had an impact on the further development, since, for example, Chrysostom preached enthusiastically on it and urgently recommended to his Antiochene audience the reading of the Life of Antony by Athanasius. But certain peculiarities of Syrian monasticism, such as the tendency to excessive severity, to striking and bizarre forms of asceticism, and the uncritical and enthusiastic admiration of these by the Christian population, must probably be regarded as the expression of the Syrian cultural inclination towards religious exuberance.

In his History of the Monks Theodoret gives a vivid description of the different types of the Syrian monasticism of his time:

Some struggle in community; there are many thousands of such monasteries; others choose the eremitcal life and are intent on conversing with God alone. Others praise God while living in tents and huts, others still in holes and caves. Many . . . endure the hardships of the climate. Now they grow numb in the extreme cold, now they burn under the scorching rays of the sun. Some stand without interruption, others allot the day to sitting and pray ing. Some have inclosed themselves within walls and avoid contact with men, others renounce such seclusion and are accessible to all who want to see them.

Here as elsewhere eremitism was first in time, here a development independent of Egyptian monasticism was earliest conceivable, espe cially since certain ascetical forms, such as the wearing of heavy iron chains and the neglected coiffure, were rejected by the Egyptians as empty show. In fasting and renunciation of sleep and of bodily hygiene the anchorites demanded results which often led to serious and permanent injury to health, even to mutilation, but only rarely did they encounter a sure official criticism. A specifically Syrian peculiarity in eremitism was represented by the so-called Stylites, whose first highly esteemed representative in the pre-Chalcedon period was Simeon the Elder (c. 390-459). After a long stay in a monastery near Teleda, he became a hermit near Televsnin in the desert south of Cyrrhus and because of his kindness and amiability was sought out by numerous pilgrims. In an effort to escape the accompanying annoyances, Simeon withdrew into a hut on the platform of a pillar that grew constantly taller, and from this he again preached to the people. After his death there arose around this pillar one of the largest churches in Syria (Kal'at Sim'an).

The organizationally intermediate stage between the individual her mit and the cenobitic monastery, the community of anchorites with a hermit as spiritual father was found also in Syria. Favorite areas of settlement of such anchorites were the mountains in the immediate vicinity of Antioch, then the desert of Chalcis, the Amanus Range in the north, the neighborhood of Edessa in Osrhoene, and the mountainous country of Tur'abdin in northern Mesopotamia. Even women chose the eremitical life, but mostly they decided for the convent community, which they found more suitable. From the second half of the fourth century the number of monasteries in all the Syrian provinces increased remarkably. Occasionally the sources state that in these monasteries people lived according to the "rule" which the founder or an esteemed superior had given them, but it remains unclear whether this referred to a rule fixed in writing. The canons enacted by Bishop Rabbula of Edessa show that even in this early period there were the beginnings of an ordering of the monastic life by set norms.

Characteristic of early Syrian monasticism was the unbounded esteem which it enjoyed in high and low alike. The simple folk, members of the upper class, the episcopate, and the contemporary imperial family were among its admirers, who made pilgrimages to the hermits and monas teries and expected help from the monks through their prayer and gifts of miracle and prophecy. Corresponding to this esteem was the vast influence which monasticism exercised on the religious conduct and piety of the people. From its circles, especially from those of cenobites, the leaders of episcopal sees were chosen in increasing num ber.

As usual in the early monasticism of the East, so too in Syrian monas- ticism of the early period no special theological interest can be ascer tained. Only rarely did members of the upper class enter a monastery, and this step clearly involved a renunciation of one's profane education. Reading and writing were important means of providing access to Holy Scripture, entire sections of which, for example, the psalms, were learned by heart so that one could meditate on them and use them in the common prayer. Occasionally monks are mentioned who mas tered the art of copying manuscripts, but they used this skill for produc ing biblical manuscripts. At times monks came forward as opponents of Arianism or of Messalianism, but this was exceptional. Monastic schools in the proper sense, which supplied the young monks with an education beyond the elementary, did not exist, and still a great space was allotted to theological study. This only became possible after cenobitism had left its founding phase behind it and the monasteries had obtained a secure economic foundation. Hence at this period monks as theological authors remained exceptional phenomena, such as Rab- bula, the later Bishop of Edessa (d. 435), or Narsai, who for about twenty years (437-457) was director of the school of Edessa.

To the picture of early Syrian monasticism belong two more features, worthy of a positive evaluation: its social charitable activity and its missionary work. The early hermits, despite their modest resources, had an open hand for strangers and pilgrims who stopped at their cells and a helpful heart in regard to the needs of the poor and the sick. Individual monks courageously stood up for a fair treatment of the so cially dependent vis-a-vis proprietors, tax collectors, or moneylenders. Monasteries soon organized their social activity through the construct ing of hospices for strangers and hospitals.

Since the hermits' cells were mostly in the country, in the midst of an often still strongly pagan population, missionary work was offered a direct opportunity here. In the neighborhood of Edessa the monk Ab raham gained a whole village for Christianity; another Abraham, of Karra, successfully preached the gospel in the district of Emesa in Phoenicia Secunda. For the Phoenician mission, which John Chrysostom encouraged from Constantinople, Syrian monks put themselves at his disposal, and he could entrust the missionary activity on the Euphrates to monks from the monastery of Zeugma. Also active as a missionary in Mesopotamia was the founder of the Acemetae, Alexander, first as a hermit, later with his entire monastic community. Special success was achieved by the missionary preaching of the Stylite Simeon the Elder, to whom was due the conversion of the Bedouin Arabs. Very probably Syrian monks also had a considerable share in the evangelization of Armenia and even of Ethiopia.

Still to be noted was the especially favorable relationship of Syrian monasticism to the official Church: there were no substantial tensions. A positive presupposition for this was surely the already mentioned fact that the number of bishops taken from the monastic institute was rela tively large. It is true that the heralds of Syrian monasticism, Ephrem, Chrysostom, and Theodoret, say little about an active participation of monks in the religious life of the congregations. Most hermits even seem to have participated only rarely in the Eucharistic celebrations of the communities, but Communion was kept in one's dwelling and could have been given to oneself if a priest who happened by on occasion had celebrated the Eucharist among them; the Church took no offense at that. The priesthood for its own sake was not sought by monks, and even less the episcopal office, but the motive was clearly awe of the high responsibility thereby imposed. Hence the monk encountered priest or bishop with the greatest deference, and obedience to them was a matter of course. Chrysostom saw this relation of monasticism to the Church158 in a more profoundly theological context than did Theodoret. Accord ing to him, monasticism was called to be a sign for Christianity that it is possible radically to realize the gospel's ideal of perfection and through a life of poverty and virginity to proclaim the eschatological message of the coming of the Kingdom of God in a way that could not be ignored. If the need of the moment demanded it, the monk must of course be prepared temporarily to give up his existence as a hermit or cenobite and assume a concrete task in the Church, that is, put himself at the Church's disposal as preacher or missionary or, if the aptitude were present, through accepting the episcopal office.

3. The Monasticism of Asia Minor and Constantinople

The beginnings of monasticism in Asia Minor are connected in the sources with the name of the later Bishop Eustathius of Sebaste,159 who is noted in the acts of a Synod of Gangra in Paphlagonia c. 341 as head of an ascetic group whose ideals seemed to threaten the internal order of ecclesiastical life in the congregations of Asia Minor. According to the letter of the members of the Synod and their decrees, consisting of twenty canons, the Eustathians so disdained marriage that they declined to participate in a Eucharist celebrated by married priests. They upheld an extreme ideal of poverty which they stressed externally by intention ally wretched dress and by the disregard of all bodily care, but which they proclaimed didactically when they declared that no one could at tain to salvation who did not renounce all possessions. In opposition to the Great Church they fasted especially on Sundays, and some rejected all bodily pleasure. Also, the customary celebrations in honor of the martyrs did not meet with their approval; they assembled in private houses for their own liturgies and thereby produced the danger of schism. Here there was question probably of a radical ascetical move ment, perhaps influenced from Syria; supervision of it and its incorpora tion into ecclesiastical life had not yet been achieved.160 But then this task was assumed by a man who, like the family from which he came, saw in Eustathius of Sebaste a great model of the ascetic, monastic form of life.161 After his baptism, Basil of Caesarea was convinced that this ' sacrament obliged every Christian to the ascetical life in the meaning of the gospel, and he moulded on it the life of the community of ascetics

158 J. M. Leroux, "Monachisme et communaute chretienne d'apres saint Jean Chrysos tom," ibid., 143-190, especially 174-186.

159

160 Sozomen, HE 3, 14, 31-37; Epiphanius, Panar. 75.

161

162 Cf. S. Salaville, "Eustathe," DThC 5, 1565-1574.

163

164 Basil, Ep. 1; 119; 223, 5; 244, 1; Gregory of Nyssa, Vita Macrinae (op. 8, 377-380).

which gathered around him and his friend, Gregory Nazianzen, at An- nesi in Pontus. Even as a bishop he remained united with it, but he also preached to his congregation at Caesarea the ideals of virginity and poverty, without, however, making them a law for all members of the community: he thereby tacitly overcame the extreme tendencies of the Eustathians. When the group of ascetics at Annesi and probably also at Caesarea developed gradually by a sort of dead weight into a cenobitic community, there followed more and more from the questions posed by day-to-day life also the necessity of an "ordering" in writing. The origin of Basil's asketikon must be viewed in the light of this development; to it he brought not only the knowledge he had gained on a journey made for information to the monastic centers of Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Mesopotamia, but in a second version he introduced the insights to which day-to-day practice in a cenobitic community led. It was from the first intended only for the monks connected with Basil at Annesi and Caesarea, and hence it was not a rule of an Order in the canonical sense.

According to Basil the fundamental law of all ascetical life is the love of God, which demands a radical renunciation in regard to a world which despises God's commandments. This law is best realized in a specific community, which carries along and forms the individual. The eremetical life cannot give this help, and, besides, it contradict's man's social nature. Giving up of the world and its goods is turned by Basil into something positive as self-discipline of renunciation (ekrateia) and is clearly distinct from any Manichaean dualism. The monk can still in certain cases personally manage his property that he has dedicated to the Lord, but it is recommended that the administration be turned over to an individual. Life in the community demands order and subordina tion, which is to be effected in obedience to the superior (proestos). This obedience finds its deepest justification in the example of the Lord, who gave himself always and entirely to the Father's will. The superior him self, with his vicar, at whose side is a council of seniors, is placed in a serious responsibility, first of all as spiritual father of those entrusted to him.168 Basil gives a high rank to manual labor, because, first of all, it should make possible to the monastery charity toward the poor and become the touchstone for the purity of the love of God.169 In so fundamental a deriving of the monastic existence from the word and spirit of the gospel, as the asketikon offers it, a definite dedication of the monks to the study of Scripture is self-evident.170 A further trait of the Basilian "Rules" is, despite all absence of compromise in what is basic, a deep discretion and magnanimity in things of second rank, which does not keep at hand a ready solution for all possible individual situations of everyday life but leaves them to the decision of the superior or of the individual monk. This should also be gained interiorly, in the case of a transgression of the rules, by mild punishment and loving reprimand for their true observance.171 An excelling human and religious mind was here at work. The gradual maturing of he Basilian monastic life gave it an inner balance and elasticity that made essentially new forms super fluous in Byzantine monasticism: every later "reform" of eastern monas- ticism, such as that of the Studites, was therefore ultimately always a return to the Basilian legacy. Its quality becomes discernible in the influence which, like the Pachomian Rule, it exercised on the Latin monasticism of the West, beginning with Rufinus and Cassian by way of Benedict of Nursia to Benedict of Aniane, who gave it a place in his Concordia Regularum.172

The sources are silent in regard to monastic foundations in the prov inces of central Asia Minor in the period before Chalcedon. But on the Asiatic shore of the Bosporus, still within the limits of the capital, several monasteries arose around this time. One of the most important was Rufinianai, founded by the imperial minister, Rufinus, who first colonized it with Egyptian monks, but after his fall in 395 they aban doned it. Circa 400 the monk Hypatius, on whose activity as superior his pupil Callinicus reported,173 took charge. There was also a monastic settlement on the Rhebus stream, several kilometers above the east end of the Bosporus, and on Mount Auxentius, north of Chalcedon, there arose a convent of nuns and a monastery of monks, both in the fifth century.174

168 Reg. fus. 24-54, contains the norms on the organizational aspect of community life.

On the understanding of obedience in Basil, see J. Gribomont, VS Suppl. (1952), no.

21, 192-215.

168 Reg. fus. 37-41.

ЩReg. brev. 235-236; 95.

171 Reg. fus. 50-53.

172

173 Cf. J. Gribomont, L'Histoire du Texte ¶ . . , passim.

174

175 On Rufinianai, see R. Janin, tO 22 (1923), 182-190.

176

177 Rhebas: Callinicus, Vita s. Hypatii, can. 45; Mount Auxentius: R. Janin, DHGE 9, 27.

178

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In regard to the beginnings of monasticism at Constantinople the sources give information that is partly contradictory. The capital cer tainly attracted monks from the eastern provinces of the Empire early, and at first they lived there as individuals or in rather small groups. To the Church historian Sozomen Marathonius was already regarded as superior of a monastic community (synoikia monacbon): he was a former official who had been won for the ascetic life by Eustathius of Sebaste c. 350. On the other hand, the hagiographical literature attributes the founding of the first monasteriun in Constantinople to the Syrian monk Isaac c. 382. But even before Isaac the number of monks in the city must have been considerable, since they played an important role in the controversy over the doctrine of Macedonius. From the end of the fourth century other monasteries appeared in rapid succession, since the Council of Ephesus in 431 recognized Abbot Dalmatus, Isaac's succes sor, as superior of all monks in the city. In 448 representatives of twenty-three monasteries signed the judgment of the Synod which re pudiated the teaching of Eutyches. Among these monasteries that of the so-called Acemetae occupied a special place: it had been founded by the monk Alexander near the Church of Saint Menas. He had lived for a time in a monastery in Mesopotamia, then wandered, preaching through the Syrian provinces with a crowd of monks, and c. 42 5 came to Constantinople, where many monks from other monasteries soon entered the community he directed. A special force of attraction pro ceeded from the custom, brought along from Syria, of celebrating in the monastery uninterrupted prayer throughout the nightЧhence the name akoimetoi for these monksЧfor which groups of monks of different languages took turns. When jealousy and intrigues drove the Acemetae from the city, they went to Asia Minor, where Alexander's successor, John, could finally make a new settlement at Eirenaion on the Bosporus, which began its great growth under its third abbot, Marcellus. From this monastery in 468 the Patrician Studios summoned some monks for his new foundation in the capital that was later to be so famous.176

The monks of this period did not always give joy and comfort to the bishops of the capital. They were eager to share, at times tumultuously, in the confrontations raging around the "orthodoxy" of their bishops, of whom Macedonius, Gregory Nazianzen, and Nestorius were able to experience their power and aggressiveness as much as John Chrysos- tom, who urged them to better monastic discipline and aspired to exer-

EARLY CHRISTIAN MONASTICISM

cise a certain control over their life. In this attitude of the monasticism of the capital it becomes very clear that a framework had to be discov ered which also incorporated it canonically into the total life of the Church. For the area of Eastern Christianity this momentous work was undertaken by the Council of Chalcedon in a series of canons. The most important norm was given in canon 4, which subjected every monastery to the supervision of the diocesan bishop. Without his knowledge neither a small colony nor a monastery could be established in the future. The canon further decreed that a monk remained bound for the duration of his life to the monastery in which he began his ascetical career: he could leave it only for a weighty reason and tem porarily with the consent of the diocesan bishop. Canon 8 also strengthened the position of the bishop in relation to the monastery: monks who were clerics, and hence members of the hierarchy, remained explicitly subject to the bishop's jurisdiction. Other canons tried to guarantee the ideal of the vocation by forbidding the assumption of a secular function or military service and denying to monks and nuns entry into marriage. With this legislation of Chalcedon eastern monasticism, as an ecclesiastical state, obtained its official position in the total organism of the Church. True, the canons did not exhaust all possibilities of canonical regulations for monasticism, but they offered a framework capable of sustaining the burden, which could be filled in by later decisions if new developments within monasticism should make them necessary.

4. Messalianism

In the second half of the fourth century there appeared in Syria and Mesopotamia a movement led by monks, whose ascetical practice and teaching soon evoked opposition from ecclesiastical circles. The first to speak of them was Ephrem the Syrian; he called them MessaliansЧ those who pray intensivelyЧand spoke rather vaguely of their lack of discipline. Gregory of Nyssa spoke of ascetics known by him who lived at the expense of others and valued the daydreaming they re garded as revelations more highly than the teachings of the gospel. Epiphanius of Salamis knew of them from hearsay and stressed their

moral licentiousness. Theodoret of Cyrrhus was the first to name some of the "authors of error," among them a certain Simeon. He states also that the Messalians, if necessary, avoided being cut off from the Church by disavowing their doctrines. According to his report, Bishops Letoius of Mytilene, Amphilochius of Iconium, and Flavian of Antioch especially fought against the movement. It was also Amphilochius who c. 390 submitted the question of the Messalians to a synod at Side in Pamphylia, which, after adherents of the movement had been heard, rejected the following doctrines: baptism does not eradicate the root of sin, but only incessant prayer, which alone can expel the demon dwel ling in the human soul; the Messalian pneumatic must reject work; he can foretell the future, see the Trinity with the eyes of his body, and physically perceive the descent of the Holy Spirit in his soul. A Synod of Constantinople of 426 raised basically the same objections against the Messalians, except that it now emphasized at the head of the prop ositions to be condemned their thesis that in each newly born person dwells a demon which drives him to his evil deeds. Newly added was the charge of a false understanding of the doctrine of the Trinity and of Christology, which caused the Messalians to approach Sabellianism and Docetism. For its verdict the Synod relied on an investigation of a Messalian work, on which Bishop Valerian of Iconium reported.

This work, called Asketikon, was presented to the Council of Ephesus of 431, when, on the motion of Bishops Valerian and Amphilochius of Side, it took up the Messalian movement, which had then spread, espe cially in Pamphylia and Lycaonia. The decrees of the Synod of Constan tinople of 426 were confirmed, the Asketikon was condemned, dis avowal was demanded of persons suspected of the erroneous doctrine, deposition and excommunication were decreed against clerics who re fused to comply and excommuniation against lay persons, and the Mes salians were forbidden to have monasteries. Furthermore, the Council rejected eighteen individual propositions extracted from the Asketikon, which John Damascene placed in his History of Heresies. They refer to the binding of the human soul to the demon, to the effect of baptism, the importance of prayer, to the physically perceptible presence of Christ and of the Holy Spirit; the reproach of overesteeming dreams, of aversion to work, and of licentiousness was no longer raised.

In the investigation of the Asketikon and its probable author, patristic scholarship through an important discovery was placed before an abun dance of new problems in regard to Messalianism. To a series of the propositions condemned at Ephesus there were found more or less exact parallels in the Spiritual Homilies, which, under the name of Macarius of Egypt, occupied a high rank in the ascetical mystical litera ture of the Christian East.186 An intensive preoccupation, begun at once, with the complex of questions thereby raised led not only to the discov ery of further writings of the same sort and provenance: it is believed that their author has been found in that Simeon of Mesopotamia called a Messalian by Theodoret and some manuscripts, and he must also be regarded as the author of the Asketikon.187

However, in this work there is definitely no longer a question of the "vulgar" Messalianism of the early years, which Ephrem, Gregory of Nyssa, Epiphanius, and the first anti-Messalian synods had condemned. As now presented, any moral laxity is condemned in it, the work of the "brothers" is highly esteemed, and the phantasies of many a pneumatic no longer play a role. Here one encounters rather a refined theology of experience, in which a high but not an exclusive importance is assigned to prayer, in which ascetical training is a self-evident presupposition for the acquiring and preserving of the Spirit and his grace, and in which a devaluation of baptism is no longer traceable. Of course, this purified Messalianism is also not free of abnormalitiesЧfor example, an exag gerated view of the value of the experience of grace and the "tangibility" of the love of GodЧbut according to the more recent observations Gregory of Nyssa and Diadochus of Photice regarded this Mes salianism, after a tacit correction of its errors, as an ascetical attitude possible to them.188 Hence it seems that doubts are not to be excluded whether the Asketikon condemned at Ephesus represented such a Mes salianism or whether extracts presented from it did not give a distorted picture of its doctrine.189 Of course, the negative verdict of Ephesus burdened it, without however being able to exclude the enormous in fluence of its writings on the mysticism of the future.

18e The observation is due to the Benedictine, L. Villecourt, "La date et 1'origine des Homelies spirituelles attribuees a Macaire," CRAIBL (Paris 1920), 29-53.

187 Thus first H. Dorries, Symeon von Mesopotamien (see the sources).

188

189 R. Staats, Gregor von Nyssa und die Messalianer (PTS 8, Berlin 1968), defends with noteworthy reasons the priority of the Great Letter of the Messalians to Gregory's De instituto christiano. H. Dorries, "Diadochus und Symeon," Wort und Stunde (Gottingen 1966), 334-417, indicates a similar and at the same time correcting and adopting "dependence" of Diadochus. G. M. Bartelink, VigChr 22 (1968), 128-136, calls atten tion to Messalian formulas in the Vita of Hypatius by Callinicus.

190

191 See H. Dorries, "Die Messalianer im Urteil ihrer Bestreiter," Saeculum 21 (1970), 213-227, and J. Gribomont, op. cit. Also, in M. Canevet, REG 82 (1969), 404-423, the discussion on the authenticity of Gregory of Nyssa s De instituto christiano.

192

CHAPTER 20 The Monasticism of the Latin West

While the Latin West, especially in Rome and North Africa, had its own Early Christian asceticism on a considerable scale, a native monasticism in the proper sense, independent in origin and development from the movement in Eastern Christianity, cannot be demonstrated with cer tainty for the West. Both the eremitical life and the organized monastic system began in the West only after the middle of the fourth centuryЧ at a time, then, when the knowledge of eastern monasticism had long ago reached the West through various channels and could have a further stimulating impact, especially when the already lively relations between Eastern Christianity and the Christian congregations of the West be came more intense in the early phase of the Arian struggles. As early as 324 Hosius of Cordoba was at Alexandria to perform a task for Con- stantine, and there he certainly obtained knowledge of the just blossom ing monasticism. The same is true of the pilgrims from the West, who came to the East in growing numbers after 324 and were able to observe in Palestine the great interest of the imperial family in the holy places. The wholly credible report that Constantine and his sons sent letters to Antony in Egypt shows the significance which persons of the highest station attributed to monasticism. The repeated stays of Athanasius in the WestЧat Trier in 335, at Rome c. 340-343, at Aquileia c. 345- gave him and his entourage the possibility of speaking as eyewitnesses of the powerful movement which had taken hold of the East. His tes timony achieved its full impact when his account of the life and work of Antony, written c. 357, became accessible to a larger Latin circle of readers in an early Latin translation soon after 360. A momentum favorable to monasticism certainly proceeded also from the itinerant eastern monks who appeared from time to time in the West, especially in Rome.

The knowledge of eastern monasticism at first, however, operated in the West only to reinforce the already existing ascetical communities, which, especially in Rome, saw themselves sanctioned in their ideals, gained further members, and were able to found new ascetical circles. The fact that a relatively long starting-time was needed in the West before an organized monastic system aroseЧthis development began on a broader plane, apart from individual cases, only toward the end of the fourth centuryЧbecomes intelligible when the state of the expansion of Christianity in the West c. 350 is kept in mind. The real Christian centers were the cities with their relatively densely populated hinter land, but, according to the ideas of the time, these were precisely not the areas of settlement favorable to monasticism, which required sol itude.5 Not until the conversion of a majority of the rural population was achieved were conditions advantageous to an organized monasti cism of some magnitude created. A survey of the individual regions of the West makes clear at the same time important differences with in Latin monasticism itself as well as in comparison with its eastern precursor.

Rome and Italy

The growing knowledge of eastern monasticism exerted its greatest influence in the circles of the Roman communities of Christians who were already open to the ascetic ideal. The correspondence of Jerome, who was especially active during his second Roman sojourn (381-384) as a zealous promoter and propagandist of the monastic ideal, informs us that the members of these circles were mostly ladies of the upper class, who, like Asella, Marcellina, sister of Bishop Ambrose of Milan, and Irene, sister of Pope Damasus I, at first led a life of virginity as individ uals in their families or, like Marcella, decided on the ascetic type of life as widows. More and more they joined in larger ascetical groups or domestic communities respectively, among which those of the promi nent Romans, Lea, Paula, Melania the Younger, and Proba played a special role.7 A substantial approach to the monastic form of life was indicated when ladies of these circles left Rome and continued their former community on one of their properties in the country. But some of them, such as Melania the Elder, Paula the Elder, and finally Melania the Younger, apparently saw that the possibility of a complete realiza tion of the monastic ideal could take place only in the East and emi grated there. Augustine was the first to speak of a real monastery of Roman women c. 387: he knew a group of widows and virgins who lived together, gained their support by the work of their hands, gave themselves a rule of the house, according to which tried "superiors" undertook the moral and spiritual direction of the community, and in which caritas was reckoned as the highest command.

The ascetical ideal apparently found a far weaker response among the men of the Roman community. There were, it is true, ascetics living alone here too quite early, but there seems not to have been the inter mediate stage between them and the monastery, the community of male ascetics. Before long, even some of these ascetics, because of their extravagant behavior in dress and conduct, evoked the opposition of Christian circles. Again Augustine attests the existence of several or ganized monasteries of men, in which men educated "in the divine science" were superiors and the community, "according to the custom of the East," as he stressed, assumed responsibility for its support through its own labor.

For Rome it is only natural to raise the question of the position of the Roman Bishop in regard to the monastic movement of this period. Pope Damasus I (366-384) surely has to be considered as a definite promoter especially of women's asceticism: he encouraged it in word and writing. His successor, Siricius (384-399), was of the same mind: he expressed his opposition to a devaluation of the ascetical ideal. When, after the fading of the threat from the barbarian invasions in the early fifth cen tury, the number of monks increased, Popes Innocent I (401-417) and Zosimus (417-18) intervened to issue regulations. Among the Popes of the century are included also the first Roman founders of monas teries. The Monasterium in Catacumbas near the basilica of the Martyr Sebastian on the Via Appia owes its origin to Pope Sixtus III (432- 440), and his successor, Leo I (440-461), founded a monastery near the Vatican basilica, later called that of Saints John and Paul; it was probably responsible for the liturgy in the basilica.

In a glance at the rest of Italy, what is first noteworthy is a relatively strong spread of the eremitical life on the coasts and islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea and, less often, in the Adriatic. The first island hermit known by name was Martin of Tours, who, after a brief time as a hermit in the vicinity of Milan, had to yield to pressure from the Arians and withdraw to the island of Gallinara off the Riviera, opposite the city of Albenga, c. 357-360. Augustine knew a monastic community on the island of Capraria, modern Capraia, northeast of the northern tip of Corsica. The same island was named by Rutilius Namatianus as the abode of men "dreading the light," who called themselves monks. He also mentioned the island of Gorgo, today Gorgona, on the latitude of Livorno, because a young ascetic who had abandoned wife and property "had buried himself alive" there.16 On the island of Tinetto at the northwestern exit from the Gulf of La Spezia, excavations have revealed the remains of a hermitage of the late fourth century. Bonosus, a friend of Jerome, withdrew c. 374 to an island off the Dalmatian coast. Ambrose and Jerome spoke quite generally of this eremitism, which populated numerous islands of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the remote inlets of the coast. Clearly here the island character was felt to be a substi tute for the solitude of the wildernesses into which the anchorites of Egypt and Syria went.

The first founding of a monastery on Italian soil is connected with the name of Bishop Eusebius of Vercelli, who gave this foundation a specific orientation. Before being called to become bishop of the North Italian city, Eusebius had been a lector at Rome and had already decided on a life of virginity and asceticism before he was banished to the East in 355 because of his fidelity to the Nicene Creed. It was probably only after his return from exile in 363 that he united the clergy of his cathedral in a monastic vita communis; hence he was the first founder of a monasterium clericorum in Church history, since, until then, there was in East and West no model for his institution, so far as the sources inform us, and his contemporaries were quite aware of the novel character of his work. Ambrose mentions the singing of hymns, com mon prayer, study of Scripture, manual labor, and fasting as important ingredients of the life of the clerical community of Vercelli, which thus appears as the anticipation of Augustine's monasterium clericorum at Hippo and, with the requirement of the study of Scripture, already displays a specifically western element.

Milan under Bishop Ambrose must also be named as a further center of ascetic monastic effort in Italy. At the time of Augustine's stay at Milan there existed outside the city gates a monastery of men; the superior of the numerically not inconsiderable community was a learned priest, and Bishop Ambrose himself was its eager patron. Elsewhere too Ambrose stood up as the advocate of monasticism, when he praised the island eremitism, extolled the work of Eusebius of Vercelli, or bit terly reprimanded two former monks who now reviled what they had once vowed. But his care was directed in a special way to women who had vowed ascetical virginity. He put his word and his pen at the service of their ideal: from his efforts speaks the resolute seriousness of the Roman-become-Catholic-Bishop, who contrasted the exalted claim of Christian discipline with a lax pagan moral concept. While virgins came from Piacenza and Bologna, and even refugees from North Af rica, to Milan in order "to take the veil" (ut his velantur) there, Ambrose did not find in his episcopal city unanimous approval of his recruiting, and so he once sarcastically remarked: "I preach here and find a hearing elsewhere; I would almost prefer to preach elsewhere in order to con vince you!"

In the rest of Italy, apart from Bologna, where the monastic commu nity counted some twenty nuns, there existed in Ambrose's day one convent of nuns at Verona, on which Bishop Zeno expended his care. Jerome addressed one of his letters to the virgines in his native Haemona. As early as 370 Rufinus was a monk in a monastery of his home town, Aquileia. When c. 400 he translated Basil's Asketikon for the monks of a monastery of Pinetum, he asked that copies be sent "also to other monasteries" of the West. In South Italy asceticism first got a foothold with Paulinus, who came from Bordeaux and from 395 led a monastic life with his domestic community. The ascetical communities which Melania the Younger established c. 408 on her properties in Sicily and Campania may also have been "domestic monasteries" of this sort. Later biographies ascribe to many a bishop of the fourth to the sixth century special interest in monasticism or even the founding of monasteries, but in individual cases this cannot be ascertained with certainty from other sources.

Gaul

For Gaul also we must presuppose a premonastic asceticism, even if the testimonies for it are relatively sparse and of a later date. A decree of the Emperor Valentinian I (c. 370), which exempted the consecrated virgins of Gaul from a tax, assumes the existence of women's asceti cism, just as does a canon of the Council of Valence (374), which dealt with the virgines who had abandoned their former state. Also at Trier there is known about the same time the institution of virgines deo dicatae, and even before the turn of the century a decree of Pope Damasus I (366-384) or of his successor, Siricius (384-399), expresses itself on the question of the treatment of such virgins who became unfaithful to their vows. The majority of these virgines in Gaul still lived with their families, but they occasionally gathered into rather small groups following the trend toward a monastic community.

The first reports on male asceticism in Gaul are connected with the name of the man who ranks clearly as the founder of Gallic monasticismЧMartin of Tours. His discharge from military service was motivated by his decision for an ascetical existence, which, after a short stay with Hilary of Poitiers, he first put into practice as an itinerant ascetic in the Balkans, then outside the gates of Milan, and, as already mentioned, on the island of Gallinara off the ligurian coast. After Hilary's return from exile in 360, Martin lived at first in a hermitage in the vicinity of Poitiers, with great probability on the site of the later monastery of Liguge, eight kilometers south of the city.

By accepting a few disciples, this hermitage gradually became a col ony of anchorites, and the same is true of the cell to which Martin withdrew soon after his call to be Bishop of Tours c. 371; from it grew the monastery of Marmoutier. The rapidly growing number of hermitsЧsoon there were some eighteenЧcaused the appearance here too of certain forms of common life, such as common meals and com mon prayer. Since manual labor remained forbidden to monks in an effort to keep from them a spirit of acquisitivenessЧonly some younger monks prepared the manuscripts needed for reading and prayerЧthe community's support had to be defrayed from the property supplied by brothers coming from well-to-do families and from the aid of the con gregation of Tours. A series of traits of this monastic colony points unmistakably to like structures in Egyptian monasticism, as they are demonstrable in Antony's union of hermits or of those on Mount Nitria. Among these characteristics must be counted not only the loose, unre gulated organization, but especially the basic ascetical concept that un derstands the monk's being as the following of Christ, as realized in apostolic poverty on the model of the primitive communityЧcommon possessions, clothingЧand in constant warfare with demons. The essen tial ingredient of this struggle with demons was the destruction of pagan temples, the erecting of Christian churches in their place, the instruct ing of people through preaching, and the foundation of new monastic settlements. In this way Martin's monasticism received a decidedly pastoral and missionary trena, wnita gave n a spcuut new bishops were eagerly chosen from the circle of Martin's disciples and they promoted the monastic ideal in his spirit, the early monasticism on the Loire retained its special nature also in the future. Naturally, it aroused opposition among some bishops, to whom Martin's vast influ ence among the people was distasteful, but whose reputation, defended and propagated by the literature on him written by Sulpicius Severus, guaranteed a decisive and continuous impact, especially in southwest ern Gaul. After renouncing his paternal inheritance, Sulpicius also personally sought to realize in practice Martin's ascetical ideal with some modifications, when he introduced for himself and his household at his country residence, Primuliacum, a lifestyle which united indi vidual ascetical features, such as living in separate cells and a simple monastic garb, with intellectual activity and a ready hospitality to monks, especially those of Marmoutier. For this ascetic circle the mem ory of Martin was the unifying bond and the tomb of his pupil Clarus, whom Sulpicius Severus had buried at Primuliacum, was a constant stimulus for his veneration. The influence of Martin may also be as sumed for the monasticism of the bishopric of Rouen, farther northwest, since the bishop of that see, Victricius, knew Martin personally, vener ated him, and, just like him, had monasteries established near newly erected churches. And Maximin, who founded a monastery at Chinon on the Loire, west of Tours, was a disciple of Martin.

About a decade after Martin's death the second phase in the expan sion of Gallic monasticism began, which especially included Provence and was to surpass Martin's form of monasticism in its significance for Church history. The starting-point and, for a century, also the center of this movement was the double island off the coast of Cannes, today called Lerins. On the larger island, Lerinum or Lerina, there settled, between 405 and 410, with his friend Caprasius, Honoratus, of a prom inent family, after he had decided in his early manhood for the ascetical life against the opposition of his father. From its modest anchoretic beginning, there developed in the course of twenty years an ingens fratrum coenobium, as John Cassian called the foundation c. 42 5. Hono- ratus, soon ordained a priest, remained, until his call to be Bishop of Aries in 428, the spiritual father of the monastery: while he perhaps did not supply it with a written Rule, he did give it an order of life entirely oriented to the Egyptian model. The reputation of the coenobium on this beata insula not only attracted many visitors but brought it a remarkably high percentage of recruits from the upper class families of Late Roman Gaul, which gave to the monasticism of Lerins a character clearly in contrast to that of Martin. Even more momentous for the Gallic Church of the fifth century was the fact that monks of Lerins coming from this very class were chosen as bishops and thus brought to their new circles of work the spirit that determined the religious and theological character of the monastery. Besides Honoratus, they included his cousin, Hilary, who became his successor at Aries and, as pastor and energetic met ropolitan, for two decades determined the destinies of the Church in southeastern Gaul. There were also Maximus, second Abbot of Lerins, elected to the see of Riez, and Faustus, who succeeded him in both the abbatial dignity and the episcopal office. Bishop Eucherius of Lyon (from 434) remained an enthusiastic champion of Lerins throughout his life; c. 420 he settled with his wife and children on the smaller island, Lero, and named as tutors of his sons no less than the monks Hilary of Aries, Salvian, Priest of Marseille, and Vincent, who may be identified with the author of the famous Commonitorium. A brother of this Vin cent was the monk Lupus, later Bishop of Troyes, while the sons of Eucherius, Salonius and Veranus, went as bishops to Geneva and Vence respectively. Apparently there was in progress here a development similar to that in the Eastern Church, in which the selecting of bishops from the monastic state became the rule. Thus the spiritual and theolog ically unique character of the island monastery is found again in the monastic community established by Hilary at Aries and in that existing at Lyon even before Eucherius's time. From Lyon the spirit of Lerins radiated also to the Jura monasteries, since Romanus, founder of the first of these, Condat (Saint-Claude, c. 430), had learned "the life of the monks" in a monastery at Lyon, and at Condat under the later Abbot Eugendus the monks read, in addition to the ascetical works of Basil, Pachomius, and Cassian, also "what the holy fathers of Lerins" had published. Another important influence on the monasticism of the fifth century in southeast Gaul proceeded from the work of John Cassian, just mentioned. He came probably from the Romanized Dobrudsha {natione Scytha) and hence was a Latin-speaking monk. After a first stay in a monastery at Bethlehem, he had lived some ten years among the anchorites of Scete in Egypt until c. 400; he was next a deacon under John Chrysostom at Constantinople and later, probably as a priest, a member of the clergy of the Church of Antioch. In the service of his bishops he was twice in Rome, where he became acquainted with the later Pope Leo I. For reasons that cannot be clarified with certainty, he came c. 416 to Marseille, where Bishop Proculus gave him the Church of Saint-Victor outside the city. Here he founded the famed monastery of monks, dedicated to Saint Victor; it was followed by a convent of nuns, to which Caesarius of Aries later sent his sister for her formation. At the Church of Saint-Victor Cassian composed his two great works on the way of life and the spiritual world of eastern monasticismЧthe Instituia Coenobiorum c. 424 and the Collationes c. 426-28. Here too was displayed his collaboration in the theological discussion of his time on Nestorianism and Augustine's doctrine of grace.

The Abbot of Marseille himself stated the goals of his monastic writ ings in the dedications, which were directed to the various bishops, monastic superiors, and anchorites of Gaul. He aspired to familiarize, in detail and reliably, the leadership of Gallic monasticism both with eastern cenobitism and also with the spirituality of the eremitism there. The proved cenobitic rules of the East, especially that of Pachomius, whose individual features were lovingly described in the Instituia Coenobiorum, should be a help to the Gallic monasteries, often founded rather haphazardly and still not sure of their way, for the preservation of the apostolic tradition, in which Cassian seemed to regard as advisable a certain adaptation to the climate and customs of life of the country. He assigned to anchoritism an objectively higher rank, it is true, since it presupposes a deeper ascetical discipline, but its high requirements could even become a danger. Although his admiration and secret love belonged to this form, he selected for himself, in a sense as a model for Gallic asceticism, the ordered life in the monastery within the city. Two characteristics of the monasticism of the Rhone certainly go back to Cassian's work: first, the decidedly high estimation of the eastern, really the Egyptian, model, which was here grasped more keenly and more profoundly than in the monasticism of Martin of Tours, and, second, the greater receptivity to a "theology of monasticism," which he brought as a legacy of the East from the circle around Evagrius Ponticus to Prov ence. From this resulted ultimately the lively interest in the theological discussion of the time on the validity of the Augustinian doctrine of grace, in which the monasticism of southeast Gaul took a laudable share. Still more important, of course, was probably the long-range impact of this abbot who had come to Marseille from the Balkan Peninsula. The discreet, intelligent judgment, the sure view for the ascetically possible, the winning purity of his ideals, and the attractive style of his writings decisively prepared for the great future of Latin monasticism in the Middle Ages. Finally, southeastern Gallic monasticism experienced certain impulses from the East which went back to the contacts of Jerome with the monastic circles in Toulouse and Marseille. Through the monk Sisinnius he was informed of the ascetical movements in Toulouse, which induced him to dedicate his commentary of Zechariah to Bishop Exsuperius and his exegesis of Malachi to the monks Miner- vius and Alexander. In a letter to a certain Rusticus of Marseille, who in 427 became Bishop of Narbonne, he recommended the ascetic life in a community of brothers, whereas he expressed himself rather critically in regard to Martin of Tours.

Spain

While premonastic asceticism is first attested for the Iberian Peninsula by the Synod of Elvira, reports on the existence of monasticism here do not occur until c. 380, but then they of course make clear that it was not a question of an institution just coming into being there. Bishop Hosius of Cordoba, who stayed at Alexandria in 324 as Constantine's delegate, was able to report about eastern monasticism, so that he will be first thought of as the agent, in the reference of Athanasius, through whom Spain also had obtained knowledge of the life of Antony. But it is known for sure only that he dedicated a work on virginity to his sister, who belonged to a group of consecrated virgins.

The Synod of Zaragoza in 380 used the term monachus for the first time in a Spanish text in a special context: it decreed punishment for the passage of a cleric to monasticism because he thereby "aspired to appear [as] a more zealous observer of the law." Five years later, on the other hand, Pope Siricius (384-399) in a letter to Bishop Himerius of Tar ragona expressed the wish that clerics should especially be chosen from monasticism; in the same letter monasteries of men and women are mentioned as a normal thiilg in the province of Tarragona. Monas teries are also taken for granted for the same time in a correspondence between a society lady and a nun, who advised the former to withdraw to a convent for prayer from Christmas to Epiphany. It is uncertain whether the islands off the east coast of Spain knew monasticism at this time.

A unique representative of Spanish monasticism in the last years of the fourth century was Bachiarius, of whom Gennadius reports that he chose the peregrinatio in order to preserve his asceticism; in fact, Bachiarius defended his itinerant monasticism spiritedly. In his De lap so he showed himself to be an ascetic of sound judgment and great knowledge who had studied Tertullian, Cyprian, and Jerome. Of course, his itinerant monasticism brought on him the suspicion of being an adherent of Priscillian ideas, which, however, he decisively re pudiated in an apologia.

No doubt, however, the reaction to Priscillian's movement brusquely interrupted the further development of monasticism in the Iberian Peninsula. True, Priscillianism must be evaluated primarily as a dualistic heterodox theology and hence is dealt with in another place, but from this theology its adherents developed an extreme and exaggerated ascet- ical practice, which brought even orthodox monasticism into disrepute and evoked in some bishops otherwise not unfriendly to asceticism a long-lasting distrust of it. This burden and the disturbances beginning after the turn of the century, which were connected with the occupation of the country by the Sueves and later the Visigoths, delayed until the beginning of the sixth century a stronger recovery of monasticism.

North Africa

Especially in North African Christianity the ascetical life had achieved a noteworthy expansion and a high esteem as early as the third century. From the days ofTertullian, the North African Church knew virgines or continentes of both sexes, who were encouraged by Bishop Cyprian with special care and often proved themselves in time of persecution. They continued to exist throughout the fourth century and apparently in creased in number and importance, since the synods of this period were repeatedly concerned with them and issued rules which pushed them more and more in the direction of the common life.63 Perhaps the rank and spread of asceticism were a reason why in a glance at the rest of the development of the inner life of the Church in North Africa real monas ticism appeared there relatively late. To be sure, the thesis has been proved untenable that the monasticism of North Africa owed its origin, its basic organization, and its first expansion to Augustine exclusively.64 For he himself testified to the existence of several monasteries at Car thage c. 400, and they could not have originated on his initiative because in them an understanding of monasticism was represented by at least one group of monks which was diametrically opposed to the Augustin- ian view. The characteristics of this group, condemned by Augustine with the utmost sharpness, their extraordinary coiffure, their rejection of all manual labor, their complacent appearance in public, and espe cially the subjectivity and capriciousness of their scriptural exegesis apparently betrayed Messalian influences.66 And the itinerant monks, strongly condemned by him, whose unworthy conduct brought their entire state into discredit, clearly reveal eastern peculiarities.67 If, then, Augustine cannot be called the "father" of African monasticism, nev ertheless to him belongs the credit for instituting a monasticism which bore the stamp of his spirit and through its quality was called to become a highly significant element of the inner life of the Church, first in that of North Africa, then through its continued operation in all of Western Christianity.

Augustine's Monastic Rule

Certainly decisive, first of all, for the formation of this monasticism was the personal direction of both monasteries founded by Augustine at HippoЧthe monastery of lay persons, of which he as a priest was superior, and the later episcopal monasterium clericorum, as he called it. The intensive study of the problem of the Augustinian Rule in the most recent period has led to the conclusion that Augustine put in writing his ideas on a monastic form of life. A comprehensive investigation of the manuscript tradition of all pertinent texts has shown that the so-called Praeceptum, earlier called the Regula tertia or recepta, can alone claim to be regarded as Augustine's monastic Rule, and a comparison of this text with Augustine's other writings, especially the De opere monachorum, has confirmed this result with the strong stylistic and factual relationship here demonstrable. Hesitations about Augustine's authorship, which may be drawn from the not strictly logical train of thought or from the fact that Augustine did not mention this text in the RetractionesЧthe list of Augustine's writings in Possidius is, besides, incompleteЧlose weight if it is accepted that it was destined only for private use, not for publication. Of course, the question of the dating of the Rule is still open, since reasons can be adduced for a relatively early (shortly before 400) as well as for a later beginning (c. 425-26).

An effort to put forward what was specifically Augustine's in his understanding of monasticism must not overlook that Augustine only gained his insight through a rather long development, determined by the stages on the way of his religious life. At times these became for him the opportunity to rethink his ascetical ideal and concretely to realize the insights thereby acquired. The Confessiones clearly show that Augus tine's first encounter with monasticism in Italy forever stamped his un derstanding of Christian asceticism. But even then he knew that an- choritism in the real sense was not possible for him personally even if he spoke of it with admiration. In the vita communis, which, with some like-minded persons, he established in his paternal home at Thagaste after his return from Italy, an Augustinian peculiarity will be seen alongside certain features common to that cenobitism, such as seclusion from the world and renunciation of marriage: the high rank which was assigned to intellectual activity, the contemplative grasp of Christian revelation. Still, the community of Thagaste cannot yet be called a monasterium in the full sense, since apparently the renunciation of per sonal property was not yet required of all its members, who came chiefly from the educated class. These limitations do not occur in Augustine's two foundations in Hippo, in which he tried to realize the now defini tively acquired monastic ideal. In the monastic life at Hippo the follow ing features may be called specifically Augustinian: 1. The vita communis was understood as one of the highest possibilities for realizing the love of God and neighbor on the basis of a deeply Christian understanding of amicitia, which unites all. 2. The life of the community was supported by the atmosphere of a great inner breadth in the relationship to one another and to the superior, which was determined by the freedom bestowed in grace. 3. For lectio, spiritual study in the broader sense, a pride of place was demanded and maintained, which gave to the Augus- tinian monastery a characteristically intellectual alertness and receptive- ness to all religiously significant questions. 4. The monasterium clericorum was put definitely at the service of the care of souls, so that the Augustinian monasticism was emphatically apostolically oriented and effectively bound to the ecclesia.

This Augustinian monastic ideal operated in the future in a double form: first, directly in the area of the North African Church in the monasteries which were founded here by friends and disciples of Au gustine and were directed in his spirit; then, indirectly through the influence which the Augustinian Rule acquired on other monastic sys tems outside Africa. Augustine's biographer Possidius stressed that he personally knew some ten men, who were called out of the monasterium clericorum in Hippo to be bishops and founded monasteries in their sees. It can hardly be doubted that they gave to their establishments the Augustinian Rule as the norm of monastic life, just as Augustine by his personal contacts exercised a further influence on them. A prudent appraisal establishes that up to his death some thirty monasteries of men came into existence in North Africa which more or less bore his stamp. Even the foundations that occurred after his death in the later part of the fifth century for the most part referred back to the model he created. No less important was the later impact of the Augustinian Rule on the newly created monastic rules of the future. Caesarius of Aries and Benedict were under obligation to him in their new creations;

the Regula Monasterii Tarnatensis of the sixth century was chiefly only an adaptation of the Augustinian Rule, the use of which can also be ascer tained in the Regula Pauli et Stephani and in early Spanish monastic regulations.

Thus the most recent results of research prove that also in this aspect of the Church's inner life Augustine was a creative initiator and continu ing force.

Anti-Monastic Currents

A phenomenon as striking as monasticism could not but immediately arouse the interest of pagan circles, which of course did not examine it according to its own self-awareness but for the most part condemned it only because of its external appearances and thus reached an often pointedly negative verdict. The Emperor Julian, it is true, admitted that Christians "in great number" decided for this form of life, but in their senseless asceticism, which drove them into the desert or burdened them with chains and iron collars, he could see only the activity of a demon, to whom they voluntarily subjected themselves. The rhetor Libanius attributed to them a dark life of wickedness, which concealed itself under their ascetical exterior, and attributed to them the ultimate responsibility for the destruction of pagan temples. A similar view was held by Eunapius of Sardes, who reproached them especially for the cult of martyrsЧthey had, he said, made gods out of slaves executed be cause of their crimesЧand even accused them of high treason, since in 395 they had, so he claimed, facilitated Alaric's invasion of Greece via Thermopylae. The historian Zosimus formulated the reproach, often raised later, that monks, because of their renunciation of marriage, were worthless to human society and, under the pretext of wishing to support the poor, they made mankind poor because of the gifts they begged. The former Prefect of the City of Rome, Rutilius Namatianus, also had harsh words for eremitism; he branded it as a scandal that recently a young man of a prominent family gave up marriage and "buried himself alive" on the island of Urgo. However, the Christian Emperors also occasionally had reason for criticism of the behavior of some monks and did not hesitate to take energetic legal measures because of certain encroachments. When monks from the Nitrian Desert took part in 375 in a riot of the popula tion of Alexandria, which was directed against the installation of the Arian Bishop Lucius, the Emperor Valens forced them abruptly into military service and threatened severe punishments in cases of refusal. And the Emperor Theodosius I had to complain repeatedly of the tumultuous appearance of monks who in 387 took part in a riot in Antioch and made themselves prominent in the destruction of the synagogue at Callinicum. In 390 he even forbade them to settle in cities, and six years later an edict by his sons sharply condemned their sediti ous intervention in favor of men who had been condemned to suitable punishments because of their crimes.

In the properly internal sphere of the Church there were often at first tensions between episcopate and monasticism, which had various causes. It could not but disturb the bishops that here an institution had come into being which at first escaped control by the hierarchy. The hierarchy could rightly point to the fact that at times monasteries had been established whose existence seemed not adequately assured; that questionable elements often found admission, whom a previous careful investigation would have excluded; that monastic superiors were chosen who were in no sense equal to their task. Thus are explained the exer tions of the episcopate to incorporate monasticism as a state in the Church and to place it on the organized bases established by canon law, just as they were first secured by the decrees of the Council of Chalce- don. And the claim made, at least de facto, by some monks to belong to a state which was of higher rank than the episcopate occasionally produced friction. Additional matter for conflict was given, finally, when the strictly ascetical life of the monks operated as a silent reproof vis-a-vis the attitude, remote from renunciation, of some bishops, a motif which becomes clearly discernible in the distrust of the Gallic and Spanish episcopates in regard to monasticism in the fourth and fifth centuries.

The antimonastic movement proved to be strongest in lay Christian circles of the fourth and fifth centuries: it appeared as a reaction to the exuberant enthusiasm for monks at the time. Here also the discrepancy between the new ascetic ideal and the ordinary lifestyle of the upper class in the large cities of late antiquity was felt as a reproach, and people sought to counter it by a sort of defensive attitude. This is clearly attested for Antioch by John Chrysostom, according to whom local Christians branded monks as charlatans and seducers who enticed men from their previous environment to a dismal life in the desert. In Rome the ladies of the higher-class circles who had gathered into asceti- cal communities found themselves exposed to the caustic mockery of their former friends. At the burial of Blesilla, whose early death some ascribed to excessive asceticism, there were scenes of protest, in which it was demanded that "the monastic rabble" should be expelled from the city or thrown into the Tiber. When the prominent married couple from Aquitania, Paulinus and Theresia, chose the ascetic life, Ambrose predicted that this step would produce a wave of indignation. Augus tine likewise had to defend monasticism in Africa; its individual rep resentatives themselves evoked much blame by their defiant appear ance, which was later manifested at Carthage also. Finally, in both East and West the opposition of some parents, never entirely quieted throughout the later centuries, was also vigorous: they took precautions to prevent their children from exchanging a hidden life in the bosom of their family for self-burial in the monastery.

The antimonastic atmosphere of some circles expressed itself finally in a discussion, conducted at times with vast bitterness, simply about the justification of the ascetical ideal. Of course, an at times imprudent and all too enthusiastic exaltation of the ideal of virginity could be felt to be a devaluation of Christian marriage. In Rome the layman Helvidius in 382 published a work which attacked Mary, the model of all virginity, and denied her perpetual virginity by appeal to Matthew 1:8 and 1:25 and Luke 2:7 and 8:20. The refutation by Jerome, who was then living at Rome, became of enduring significance for the history of dogma because of its Mariology. A few years later occurred Jovinian's attack against some fundamental theses of Christian asceticism: in his glance at the high estimation of celibacy he maintained the equality of the states of virgins, widows, and the married, since only the reception of baptism determined the rank of the Christian. To the high esteem for fasting he replied with the thesis that it is just as meritorious to eat with thanksgiv ing to God. Jerome's excessive reaction was followed by the condemna tion of Jovinian by a Roman Synod c. 390, with which Ambrose of Milan agreed.97 He himself was moved to a written defense of monasti- cism when two members of the monastery of men at Milan departed and made propaganda for Jovinian's ideas in neighboring Vercelli.98 Once again Jerome put in an appearance when c. 406 the priest Vigilan- tius from southern Gaul, censured, in addition to what he regarded as the excessive cult of martyrs and relics, especially the overestimation of the monastic ideal by the Christian people. What, he asked, was to become of an orderly pastoral care, who would win sinners and the children of the world for virtue, if everyone went into the monastery? Retreat into solitude from such duties was, he said, rather a desertion than a fight.99

This antimonastic reaction, to which was denied a greater success than it intended, had, however, noteworthy positive effects. To the extent that it was aimed at actually existing abuses in the asceticism and con duct of some monks, it contributed to their elimination and helped to prevent other false developments. The ecclesiastical leadership was ob liged to guide the at times impetuously enthusiastic movement along orderly paths and finally it provided the possibility of accepting monas- ticism as such without restrictions.

97 Jerome, Adv. Jovinianum, PL 23, 211-238; Augustine also took a stand against Jovi nian in his De bono conjugali and De sancta virginitate. On the Roman Synod see Hefele- Leclercq II, 78ff. On Ambrose and Jovinian cf. F. Homes Dudden, The Life and Times of St. Ambrose II (Oxford 1935), 393-398.

99 Ambrose, Ep. 63, ad eccl. Vercell.

100

101 Jerome, Adv. Vigilantium, PL 23, 339-352; see Ep. 61, ad Vigilantium.

102

CHAPTER 21 Church and Society

In the process, extending over the entire fourth century, of the evangelization of the population of the Roman Empire, the Church was confronted with social structures, economic relations, forms of cultural life, and the daily habits of the society of late antiquity, which pressed for a confrontation under various aspects. The following account will show briefly on what especially relevant areas of the social life of the age the Church took a position, positive or negative, whether it sought or achieved a changeЧin short, in what respects the society of late an tiquity experienced a transformation because of the existence and influ ence of Christianity.

Marriage and Family

A judgment on the esteem of the area of marriage and family by the Church of the fourth and fifth centuries must distinguish between the preaching of pastors and the writings of ecclesiastical authors, with their predominantly moralistic and exhortatory tendency, and the canonical regulations which were directed to this complex of questions. It must first be ascertained that the Church had to a great extent accepted the rules of the currently valid secular law of marriage, such as the legal contracting of a marriage and its consequences, the position of the paterfamilias, and the law of inheritance. When ecclesiastical writers indicated contradictions between the Christian order of marriage and profane laws on marriage, they were referring concretely to the different evaluation of individual questions and did not intend to reject the total ity of the civil legislation on marriage. Also, the profane customs sur rounding weddings were often retained by Christians and on the Church's part were challenged only in those features which were con nected with pagan religious notions or in their occasionally coarse bois- terousness, which contradicted Christian sensitivity.

However, those regulations of the Roman marriage law which em ployed a different standard in regard to the evaluation of adultery by the man and the wife did encounter a clear repudiation from the Christian side. People found unjust a law which penalized the adultery of the wife in every case but that of the husband only if it was committed with a married woman. It was further disapproved because it forced the hus band to separate by a prescribed procedure from his wife when she was guilty of adultery and deprived him of the possibility of forgiving her and thereby saving the marriage. The Church came into a still sharper opposition to the civil law of marriage with its definite defense of the indissolubility of marriage in principle and, based on this, its repudia tion of remarriage of Christians divorced in accord with the current law. It is true that from some expressions of Christian writers and pastors it can be inferred that the Church permitted the remarriage of the man, not of the woman, if he was divorced from his wife on the ground of her infidelity. But a careful analysis of these passages and of their context and the consideration of all views of the writing of the period on the entire complex of questions make clear that the over whelming majority of contemporary Christian theologians did not ap prove the remarriage of divorced persons. Some false interpretations of pertinent patristic texts are conditioned by the fact that they assent to the separation of the couple on the basis of the so-called Matthew- clauses (5:32 and 19:9) but do not express themselves on the question of remarriage, which, however, in no sense means approval of it. Occa sionally, Christians who were living in an unrecognized second marriage were, after appropriate penance, admitted to the ecclesiastical commu nity and the reception of communion. But this practice is to be under stood only as a pastoral, helpful measure in a complicated situation, not as a recognition of the legality of such a marriage. As the ultimate justification of this fundamental attitude of the Church, the really new element in the Christian understanding of marriage is given: it cannot be regarded only as a contract, again terminable for certain reasons, between the marriage partners, but as a union based on a divine ordi nance, which obtains its indissolubility from that higher reality which Augustine termed sacramentum and in which he saw the sharing of the couple in the union which binds Christ and his Church. Even under the Christian Emperors the Church was unable in this question to change the civil law substantially. A decree of Constantine I of 331, which at least limited the grounds for divorce, may indeed have been influenced by Christianity, but it did not attack the principle of the dissolubility of marriage by divortium (separation by mutual agreement) or repudium (after the adultery of one party) and of the then possible remarriage any more than did the constitution of his sons of 339, which made the punishment for adultery more severe. In a synodal decree of 407 or 416, which unambiguously maintained the prohibition of a remarriage of divorced persons, no matter which party was guilty, the African bishops required that there should be a demand for an imperial law on this question, but as late as 449 a civil regulation still did not give up the principle of dissolubility by repudium, but only made divorce more difficult "in the interest of the child" and in so doing made husband and wife equal in law. Hence, in this matter, the "Constantinian Turning- Point" meant no decisive change for the Church.

The enthusiastic recruiting, already described in chapter 18, of ascet- ical writers for the ideal of virginity led to a reaction on the part of some Christians, who incorrectly saw it as eclipsing the real worth of Christian marriage. This caused some Church Fathers to define their view of the relationship of marriage and virginity and more deeply to establish the understanding of marriage. Chrysostom and Augustine especially made clear that the higher rank demanded for virginity was by no means to be understood as a devaluing of marriage. Ambrose considered it neces sary to deal with the scruples which were asserted in the interest of the State against the strong ecclesiastical propaganda for the ideal of virgin ity in a look at its possible demographically negative effects. The Church had no objections against regulations of the civil law of marriage which in specific cases forbade the contracting of marriage, as, for ex ample, because of close relationship. But for its own part it decreed new marriage impediments, which followed from its understanding of the conjugal union among Christians and here too it was able to influence civil legislation. Thus, more and more in the fourth century it objected to marriages between Christians and pagans or Jews, although such marriages occasionally brought missionary acquisitionsЧone thinks of the ladies of the Roman upper class. The numerous canons of the synods of the time, despite the prohibition, did not regard such mar riages as invalid but merely inflicted canonical penance on the parents or the married partners. The civil law here went beyond the view of the Church in so far as it legally forbade marriages between Christians and Jews and punished offenses against the law with the death penalty or with the sanctions laid down for adultery.

While Roman law denied any juridical worth to marriage between slaves, the Church regarded them as valid, but also had to have regard for the rights of the slaves' master. Perhaps it must be attributed to ecclesiastical influence that a law of Constantine I forbade the master to break up slave families in a partitioning of his property. If the slaves did not belong to the same master, the Church made the recognition of their marriage dependent on the agreement of both masters. The real problem was that of marriage between slaves and free persons, which the civil law forbade. The Church could and would recognize such marriages of themselves, but demanded the emancipation of the slave before the contracting of his marriage, thereby of course at the same time leaving it to the discretion of the slaveowner.

The Church furthermore changed the meaning and extent of the rights which the Roman patria potestas gave to the paterfamilias over the contracting of marriage by his children. It wanted this to be understood not so much as a right but rather as concern for the child. Thereby it also gave the mother a voice and finally allowed the child the right, if the occasion arose, to reject the spouse destined for him or her by the father.

Finally, the Church redefined the relations of the married couple to each other and hence gave to married life a much deeper basis than profane law had ever been able to do. This relationship was to be measured in principle against the model of the union which existed between Christ and his Church. Accordingly, its foundation was love, caritas coniugalis, which knew a thoroughly hierarchical ordering of mar ital and family life, but which abolished all legal inequality in a spiritual and religious community of life. This caritas took from the husband in his basically recognized role of leadership the harshness of the Roman dominus and gubernator praepotens in marriage; it made the reverentia mulieris a voluntarily assumed subordination of the wife, which was now based, no longer on the inequality of the sexes but on the position and role of the wife in the family life. Such equality of the partners bound them to equal fidelity and hence regarded failings against this as equally serious; in fact, the adultery of the man was even more serious, since he, as head of the family, was bound to exemplary behavior. When the Christian writers and pastors of this period in their preaching praise as virtues of the wife pudicitia and castitas coniugalis, display the figures of Susanna and Mary as models, and characterize care for husband and children as their foremost duty, this should be valued positively, espe cially with a glance at some features of contemporary social life, and no antiemancipatory attitude of the Church should be seen, even if the reality more and more lagged behind the proclaimed ideal.

Likewise the relationship of parents and child experienced under the influence of Christianity a change, the effects of which were clearly perceivable in the society of late antiquity. Even the Church conceded to the paternal authority vis-a-vis the child the chief role, but it di minished its absolute character, since it esteemed it more as a duty than as a right, softened the patria potestas to paterna pietas, and especially sought to give the mother greater influence on the education of the child. There were ever more admonitions to parents to be understand ing teachers and models in living for their children. The paternal authority found its limits when it sought to deprive the child of the free decision for the Christian faith or wanted to force the daughter to enter a convent out of material considerations. Parents who neglected their duty to support their children should be punished with ecclesiastical punishments, just as the children's duty of caring for their parents in need bound them too.

Just how much the Church's emphasis on the care of the child was justified is made clear from some rather melancholy features of the society of late antiquity. Augustine knew that parents with one to three children decided against any more because they did not wish to compel their offspring ever to beg. The Council of Elvira excluded for life from the ecclesiastical community "the mother or any other relative" who exposed their children to prostitution out of greed. The practice of the poorer classes of selling their children, and thus usually of depriv ing them of their freedom, was clearly condemned by the Church but maintained itself tenaciously: imperial laws as late as 391 and 451 still had to forbid it. The exposing of children, quite common in the an cient world, early encountered the strong condemnation of the Church, which saw in it a barbaric effect of the patria potestas, Ecclesiastical writers attacked the causes of this abuse, which must not be attributed chiefly to great economic need but to the utilitarian viewpoint of the head of the family, unwilling to share his means with a large group of children. They bewail even more the harsh lot of the exposed, who, in the event of escaping death, were mostly destined for the life of a slave, a catamite, or a prostitute. A law of Constantine I brought about in 331 the first limitation of the custom, in so far as it deprived the child's father of the right to demand the foundling back later from the foster parents, but the practice itself was still tolerated, and only under Valen- tinian I was it subjected to certain penalties under the influence of the Church. Basil, Ambrose, and Augustine make clear that it still oc curred frequently in their days; Augustine reports that virgines sacrae occasionally gathered up such children and had them baptized. In 412 the Emperor Honorius once again had to emphasize that the exposure of children was deserving of punishment. The decrees of two Gallic synods required that a person should report the receiving of a foundling to his church, which saw to it that, after a period of ten days, he re mained forever with the foster parents. Hence there was the individ ual Christian, who took an interest in such children, and the Church approved and encouraged this attitude of Christian caritas. Many Chris tian grave inscriptions make known what a good relationship had bound foster parents and alumnus or threptos in life. Under the Emperor Anastasius I (491-518) there were in the East orphanages {orphano- tropheia) conducted by the Church; a law of the Emperor Justinian I was the first to speak of church homes which especially received and edu cated foundlings (brephotropheia); hence they appeared at the latest in the second half of the fifth century. The State as such developed no initiative of its own in this matter: it left these, as in other cases also, to ecclesiastical caritas.

Likewise in the matter of the adoption of children, a practice influ enced by Christian doctrine established itself. Whereas, according to

Roman law, the possibility of adoption again was in the father's power, which however was usually conditioned by economic interests, since a substitute was sought for the deceased heir or the nonexistent one, now the wife also obtained the right of adoption, and acceptance as a child was seen primarily as concern for the orphaned child and was recom mended by the Church as a work of mercy.

Just as did ancient medicine, so the Church too energetically attacked abortion, which in the late Roman Republic and throughout the impe rial period had achieved a special expansion, and issued severe ecclesias tical penalties for it. Augustine saw facing him a theoretical difficulty, because one could not with certainty determine the moment when the fetus was infused with the soul, but his fundamental rejection of the ending of pregnancy at any time was unambiguous. Like Tertullian, he had, in conformity with the medical practice of the day permitted em bryotomy by the physician in the event that this was the only possibility of saving the life of the mother. When the Emperors Severus and Antoninus inflicted punishment for abortion on the wife as crimen ex- traordinarium, they justified their action on the ground that it deprived her husband of his child, but the girl who had an abortion went unpun ished. Ecclesiastical writers, on the other hand, saw in it a double murderЧthe suicide of the aborting wife, whose deed often had fatal consequences for her, and the murder of the unborn child. The Church's synodal legislation was concerned from the early fourth cen tury with the question and steadfastly defended the right to life of the unborn child. That the constant sharpening of the conscience of its members by the Church had a positive effect can scarcely be doubted.

Less numerous and productive are the statements in the sources on the situation of the illegitimate child, which was very unfavorable in Greece and Rome and could apparently be little influenced by the Church. Augustine regarded children born of incest as unqualified to inherit. But Jerome was opposed to the illegitimate child's having to suffer for the sins of his parents.

Unfortunately there are no detailed descriptions of day-to-day Chris tian marital and family life in the sources of the time, and hence its impact on contemporary society is not really comprehensible. Chrysostom quite often draws the ideal picture of Christian family life, which, according to a comparison favored by him, should represent a "Church in miniature." According to it, a religious atmosphere unites parents, children, and servants into a community in the Holy Spirit, which is marked by peace and concord. The father is responsible for instructing wife, children, and slaves in the faith, for reading Scripture with them, and with seeing to the common prayer. Some families sought, it is true, to live up to such an ideal, as especially inscriptions or monuments or, for example, the reports of the three Cappadocians on their families make known, despite a bit of idealization, but no sure statement is possible as to the extent of their influence.

The Social Sphere

The reform of the Empire, begun by the Emperor Diocletian and com pleted by Constantine I, had long-range consequences for the Empire's social structure. In the absolute monarchy established by them all politi cal power was concentrated in the person of the Emperor, at whose disposal for exercising it was a tightly organized central imperial admin istration, which in turn required a greatly enlarged bureaucracy in the provinces and an expanded control machinery. The power thus con centrated on the one side created new dependencies on the other. It became directly discernible in the effects of a tax system which had to produce the enormously high revenues demanded by a more than gran diose lifestyle of the court, the salaries of the officialdom, and the support of the army. The pitilessly collected taxes hit the small handi craft industries as well as the peasants and small tenants especially hard, above all since steadily rising prices placed an additional burden on them. In an effort to escape this compulsory situation, many small tenants surrendered themselves as coloni, with property and family, to the protection of the owner of latifundia. However, they only ex changed their former "freedom" at the cost of a still harsher depen dence, for a law of Constantine I of 332 bound them and their descen dants forever to the soil of their new master, and later laws left them the status of freemen only theoretically. Together with the State domains, a higher percentage of the arable land was concentrated in the hands of a numerically small upper class, which ruthlessly exploited its economic privileges in the fixing of prices and, on the basis of its power, was also in a position to ward off efforts at a stronger control by the provincial bureaucracy. The decuriones also, occupants of an originally honorable function in the administration of the cities, now had not only to bear the responsibility with their own property for the cities' tax yield, but were, together with their heirs, bound by law to this function. The workers in State factoriesЧweaving and spinning, mints, arms, the great bakeries of the capitalЧin so far as they were not already slaves, and the members of specified professionsЧretailers, smaller transport enter prises, and so forthЧwere subjected to still stronger compulsion. Their collegia, in which they were associated according to profession, were transformed into a sort of compulsory guild: any change to another calling, and in most cases even the change of the place of work, was forbidden to the members, and not even entry into the army was al lowed. Hence in practice the possibility of social advance and social mobility was ended. Included in the compensation for work, as in the case of slaves, were food and lodging and minimal cash wages. The attempt to escape this situation by flight was penalized by harsh pun ishments, which especially affected those who granted refuge to an escapee. The fact that persons even dared flight across the frontier explains the bitter expression of Salvian that many would now see Roman humanitas among the barbarians, because they could no longer endure the barbaric inhumanitas in their homeland. The State tried to make up for the growing decline in working class strength by sending those condemned by penal law and vagabonds to its factories. The series of laws quickly following one another shows, first, how very much the State was at this time overburdened by the economic problems, and also their content reveals a profoundly inhumane attitude toward the great mass of the socially unimportant. Thus the unsolved opposition be tween potentiores and humiliores became a powerful element in the pro cess of the dissolution of the Western Empire. How did the Church react in this situation?

MAGNATES AND DEPENDENTS. Neither the absolute monarchy of the Late Roman Empire nor its economic system nor the basic structures of con temporary society were questioned in principle by the Church of the time. True, it saw the harshness and injustices which were a part of the totality of these relationships and felt them as such, but considered them as the consequences of sin, which were to be endured. It neither envisaged nor sanctioned a change in the existing order, for example, by means of violence. This fundamental viewpoint becomes especially clear both in the theoretical evaluation of ancient slavery and in its atti tude in practice to those subjected to it. According to Augustine, slav ery certainly was opposed to the will of God, who had created man free, but injustice and force brought out inequality among men, just as sin made him as an individual the slave of his passionsЧwhich was even more severe. He believed this twofold form of slavery would continue to the end of time, "until wickedness ceases and all dominion and hu man power are empty and God is all in all." Whenever the Church Fathers spoke of the lot of the slaves, however sharply they criticized their inhumane treatment, they did not demand the ending of slavery by law or by revolution. They saw it partly as a necessary element of the contemporary economic order or as a form of property and hence, as a whole, respected the enactments of civil law applying to slaves. The Church even took slaves into its service and possession when they came to it through legacies and, if necessary, defended its right to own them.

At the same time, however, the Church stood up more decisively and comprehensively for the alleviation of the lot of slaves than any other institution or social group in the world. If master and slave were Chris tians, it could relax the relationship between them to a great extent by its preaching that no social differences carried any weight before God, since all the baptized are brothers, children of one heavenly Father, to whom emperor and beggar, slave and master pray. Hence in the liturgy there was no sequestering of slaves from the free, the marriage of slaves was regarded as valid, and a slave was admitted to offices in the Church if his master consented or even gave him freedom. Christian

1 i"NIN ni\ Lire WA inn

preaching ever more demanded that the treatment of the slave in a Christian home should correspond to this evaluation. Included here were not only clothing and food and the avoidance of every cruelty, even in the punishing of a guilty slave, but positive kindness and gen tleness, and especially care for his religious welfare, instruction in the faith by the master of the house, and participation in the common prayer of the familiarЃ It was due to the influence of the Church that from the fourth century the emancipation of slaves grew to a considerable extent. Since it regarded the possession of slaves as legitimate, it could only recommend their emancipation, but it did so energetically and pur chased the freedom of slaves with its own means. However, freedom did not always seem to the slave a desirable goal since it did not auto matically bring social security. Hence Chrysostom advised that, before emancipation, slaves be permitted to learn a craft which would assure them their livelihood. It is in this context that one must see the fact that some of their slaves expressed themselves against emancipation when Melania the Younger and her husband Pinian, after their turning to asceticism, freed several thousand slaves on their properties, and wanted to remain in the service of one of their relatives. Doubtless it must be attributed to this constant intervention of the Church for the voluntary emancipation of slaves that in 331 the Emperor Constantine I gave the Church the right of carrying out the emancipation by a special act within the church building with all the legal consequences which were united to the civil law procedure. In this manumissio in ecclesia the master presented his slave to the bishop; in the presence of the congre gation the libellus, the charter of emancipation, was read aloud, the bishop was asked to ratify it, and then the tabulae were broken which contained the documents of the earlier act of purchase or the unfree status of the one to be freed. This officially recognized form of ecclesiastical emancipation established itself, it seems, over a rather long

V-nUIV^n -rtl-NJJ 3UL1111 I

period of time in the Universal Church, and was finally adopted into the laws of the Burgundians and Visigoths which applied to the former Roman population.

A further possibility of assisting slaves was offered to the Church when the ancient right of asylum was extended to Christian churches, and thus slaves who fled to a church were under its special protection. But since the former master usually asserted his right of ownership, conflicts in such cases were not rare, and State laws sought to limit the right of asylum for slaves more precisely. A law of 398 seems generally to have ordered the restoration of slaves who had fled to the protection of the Church to their earlier position with Church cooperation. Later, in 432, the extradition after one day of an unarmed slave who had fled to a church was ordered, presupposing his master accorded him free dom from punishment "in honour of the place where he sought help." The right to sell the refugee slave to another master did not, of course, belong to the Church. The Synod of Orange in 441 decreed ecclesiasti cal penalties on one who, as a substitute for his own escaped slaves, forcibly took possession of other slaves of the Church.

The flight of the slave to a monastery was also the subject of a pro tracted quarrel between State and Church, since the former could not, for economic reasons, tolerate a mass flight of slaves to monasteries, but monasticism neither would nor could reject slaves when their motives for entry into the monastery proved to be unobjectionable. However, the Church had severely censured the sect of the Eustathians, who stirred up slaves against their masters, and Basil was willing to grant to a slave admission to the monastery only when his master compelled him to sin. Jerome and Cyril of Alexandria also stressed that the obedience of the slave to his master had its limits. The Emperors Arcadius and Honorius promised slaves freedom and the protection of the Church if they would abandon their Donatist masters, because they were said to be compelled there to rebaptism. Finally State and Church agreed at the Council of Chalcedon that slaves could become monks only with the express consent of their master, which had to be presented in writing. Far less successful were the exertions of the Church to control the abuse of power of which the potentes, the high officials and the owners of great wealth, often the same group of persons, made themselves guilty in the late Empire. Augustine frankly said that many proprietors in North Africa had acquired their wealth through fraud and robbery. The proverb "You are what you have" was, he said, the slogan of these robbers, the oppressors of the peasants and small tenants, of those who forcibly took possession of others' goods and disavowed the goods en trusted to them. Many Christian senators in Africa did not concern themselves with the lot of their coloni. And Augustine had to admit: hardly anyone dared say it to their face because that was too danger ous. Salvian extended even to the bishops the charge that persons would keep silent about the violent deeds and exploitation by the ruling class or spoke of them only half-heartedly; the bishops, of course, did not so act out of cowardice but in order not to stir up the guilty to worse still, and so the poor, widows, and orphans had to keep on suffering. If the Gallic priest must be regarded as engaging in some degree of rhetor ical exaggeration, his diagnosis that the Roman Empire was breathing its last (extremum agens spiritum) because of such wickedness of the potentes, was correct. The few synodal decrees of the Church hardly altered anything in the total situation. The Council of Toledo of 400 wanted to cite before the episcopal court a magnate who pillaged a poor person or cleric and, in the event of his refusal, excommunicate him; the Statuta ecclesiae antiqua instructed the bishops to accept no gifts from those who oppress the poor. The scattered individual measures of the Emperors proved to be ineffective.

RICH AND POOR. Only a variation of the phenomenon of power and dependence in the society of late antiquity was the relationship of wealth and poverty, which the Church challenged to a decision in its crisis of these decades. Three features stood in the foreground in this matter: overwhelmingly unequal distribution of property and wealth, which made only the potentes also the divites, who wanted to see the disposal of their property unrestricted by any obligation toward the pauperes\ the usually luxurious lifestyle of the proprietors, who placed no limits on themselves in the enjoyment of their wealth; the extensive lack of a purposeful concern of the State for a legal basis which would have ameliorated the situation of the economically and socially weak.

Although the Fathers, with certain nuances in individual points, de fended the opinion that the current distribution of property and wealth was not without sin, that is, that it came about through injustice, force and fraud, they accepted it as it was. They neither thought of a legal redistribution of property nor did they say a word about a change of this condition by force. Basically, they recognized private property and did not regard wealth in itself as sinful, even if their sharp words in the censuring of its abuse by its possessors could at times arouse the impres sion that they had championed the thesis that private property is theft. Quite the contrary: they stressed very definitely the social obligation of private propertyЧand this is the really new element in the stand of Christianity on the social question of the day. Since God determined the goods of this world for the welfare of all, the present possessors are, in the last resort, only their stewards; private property is legitimate only when it is administered in the sense of its social bond. This means on the one hand to renounce every unchecked dependence on wealth and every injustice in acquisition and gain, every egoistic enjoyment, and on the other hand to use it for the alleviation of social hardships, to give to the poor what belongs to them. In the concrete question of what part of his property and income the individual must use for this, the views of the Fathers were not unanimous. Some, such as Basil and Jerome, cer tainly showed their sympathy for radical renunciation, as the gospel recommends, but they knew that was only a counsel. There was agree ment that "the superfluity" was intended to assure the necessities of life for the poor. Some recommended using one-half or one-third of the revenues for that; others suggested that among the heirs one moreЧ ChristЧshould be counted and then to give to all the same share in the property : the pan Christi would then belong to the poor. Collectively, the expressions of the pastors and writers on the social bond of private property are so serious that one could not measure up to them by an occasional alms but only by a clear renunciation.

To the urgency of these demands corresponded the relentless con demnation of the behavior of some rich persons and of the methods and practices which had become common in economic and commercial life. The characterization of the well-off proprietors of Cappadocia by Basil is just as impressive as the pictures which Chrysostom sketched of the rich merchants or shipowners at Antioch. Ambrose described the wealthy spendthrift, who distributed enormous sums for the presenta tions of circus games, theatrical performances, or his hunting enjoy ment, as well as the unscrupulous greedy one, who in times of famine speculated with the hunger of the poor. On the same level lay the blame for the inhuman believer who compelled his debtor to sell his children or even prevented his being buried until the debt was paid. The Church Fathers led a bitter struggle against every form of over charging in business, against usury, as they regarded the request for interest on a loan. Synods issued a series of decrees which forbade lay persons and clerics to charge interest. Their repetition lets us infer a continuing nonobservance, especially since the civil law in this matter in no way supported the Church's view. Apparently the Church also turned directly to the State in the interest of the poor. A Synod of Carthage in 401 once asked of the Emperor the appointment of defen sores to protect the poor from the encroachments of the rich.

The Church did not rest satisfied with appeals to the conscience of the faithful, but in the growing misery initiated a social welfare work which made its preaching credible. This work was supported by the individual community, and the local bishop was ultimately responsible for it; the direct administration was entrusted to a deacon, who had deaconesses and widows at his disposal for specific services. Especially in the com munities of the larger cities the local caritas had to deal with an abun dance of demands and duties. Chrysostom gave a vivid account of the conditions in Antioch. Of the already Christian majority of the popula tion of the city, he says, 10 percent could be reckoned among the really wealthy, and equally great was the number of the poor "who possess nothing at all," while the remaining 80 percent formed the economic

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middle class. On the list of poor of the community were some 3,000 names of widows and virgins, who received daily support. To them must be added "the captives, the sick and convalescing in the xenodocheia, the strangers, the cripples, the clergy, and still others, who appear by chance every day." The revenues of the Church of Antioch, however, were not greater than those of one rich man and of one man of the middle class combined, and ten times more was needed to be able really to deal with the poverty. Hence it was even more urgent to depend on the gifts of the faithful, whose right hands were, unfortunately, not too generous.73 The once so flourishing agape had long not been equal to the needs, since it was exercised only privately, whenever a well-off person invited a crowd of the needy to a meal.74 It was true that now the congregations in a growing number were coming by means of legacies into the posses sion of landed property, but the revenues, from which the bishop had to support also his clergy and the churches, did not suffice at this time for all purposes. Augustine agitatedly told how the poor accosted him on his way to the church and asked from him a word in their behalf with the faithful, but he had to admit: "We give what we have, we give so far as we can, but we are not in a position to help according to need."75 The same was even true for the Rome of Pope Leo I, since every year in Lent he urgently announced a collection for the poor, for which people should plan their gifts.76

As the preeminent accomplishment of the caritas of this period may be reckoned the establishing of houses which saw to the care of the sick and the aiding of the poor, the orphans, and the peregrini, both because of their direct service to the needy of every sort and because of their signal importance for the caritas of the following centuries. The entirely unique justification of Christian social care, which was found ultimately in Christ, suffering need and a stranger, was basically different from the few non-Christian enterprises of a similar sort in antiquity, which were based, not on religious, but on generally humanitarian considerations.

The first charitable institutions were probably inns for "foreigners" passing through; it had long been regarded as an officium hospitalitatis of

73 Chrysostom, In Mt. hom. 66, 3.

75 Chrysostom,/їIThess. hom. 11, 5;Jerome,Ep. 22, 32; Augustine,Sermo 178,4; 259, 5.

77 Augustine, Sermo 61, 13. The Church's real property increased considerably only toward the end of the fourth century, when also more of the rich belonged to the Church; see P. M. Conti, "La proprieta fondiaria della chiesa dal secolo V all'VIII," Misc. hist. eccl. IV (Louvain 1972), 43-51. Basil and Ambrose in their lifetime distrib uted their property among the poor, and Gregory Nazianzen bequeathed his by testa ment. The text of the testament in Pitra,/ЂTO eccl. Grace, hist, et monum. 2 (Rome 1962), 153-160; see F. Martroye, Mem. Soc. nat. antiquaires de France 76 (1923), 219- 263.

79 See his Sermones "De collectis" (6): SChr 49, no. 20-25.

each bishop to take care of them. They originated as real pilgrimage hostels on the occasion of the flourishing of this movement at the mostly more important pilgrimage centers, such as Jerusalem, the city of Menas, and Nola in Campania. The first known xenodocheion, which existed as early as 356 at Sebaste, accepted also the sick and lepers. This must have been generally the case in the smaller communities, which had only one house of this kind. The high estimation of hospital ity by monasticism caused a xenodocheion to appear in every larger cenobitic monastery, and the receptiveness of Egyptian and Syrian monasticism for the needs of the poor and sick was early an object of praise. During a famine at Edessa Ephrem the Syrian shook the rich out of their apathy and with their contributions erected a hospital for the needy with 300 beds; those from the rural neighborhood who were in misery were received there. The drawing of monasticism into the Church's charitable work by Basil was to have an especially positive impact, since it not only provided new helping forces, but also brought about an enduring connection of monasticism with the Church's daily work. The most important undertaking in organizational planning and execution is connected with the name of Basil the Great, who had an institution built on the city borders of Caesarea, which included, besides a monastery and residences for the clergy, a hospice for pilgrims and a hospital for the poor, to which were attached all necessary services, physicians, nurses, workshops, and means of transportation. Its size even led to a gradual shifting of the center of the city around this new foundation, which in the fifth century was named for its founder Basilias. In Antioch also the community possessed a rather large hospi tal and a special hostel for strangers. When the first founding of such houses at Constantinople must be placed is uncertain, but in 472 the Emperor Leo I confirmed privileges which had been granted to early hostels for strangers and poor houses. In the Latin West the first works of Caritas arose around the turn of the fifth century; the employing of the Greek names for them indicates the eastern model. At Rome the wealthy Fabiola had the first hospital (nosocomium) constructed, and a xenodochium was built at the expense of Pammachius at Porto near Ostia. The hospice at Nola which Bishop Paulinus described was a home for both pilgrims and the aged. Augustine likewise called the institution erected by him at Hippo a xenodochium, but remarked that the thing itself was known in Africa before the Greek loan-word.

The Church also included in its charitable care captives and prisoners. Visits by the bishops to prisons were already an established custom when in 409 the Emperor Honorius granted them control of the admin istration of penal institutes and of the treatment of captives. Some State decrees of the fourth century, which reorganized the carrying out of punishments and tried to make it more humane, may go back to Chris tian influence. For the support and ransom of captives, who were often carried off in raids by barbarians, the Church at times spent consider able sums.

At this time the State furnished the Church some support in its charitable work and granted privileges to individual establishments, and in the Early Byzantine period, of course, State supervision was assured. The fact remains that nothing of equal rank by the State could be set beside the comprehensive social concern of the Church of the fourth and fifth centuries, either in regard to its efficiency or its ethical and religious justification.

The Cultural Sphere

At the beginning of the fourth century Christianity represented only a minority in the society of late antiquity, the cultural life of which was still stamped by paganism in all areas. With the growing number of those Christians who, on the basis of their social provenance and posi tion, had been formed by this culture, the Church was presented in an acute form with the question of what could be accepted or adapted from it from the Christian viewpoint and what was to be rejected. The an swers which Christian writers gave to this question were very different, partly determined by their personal experience, partly depending on the significance which the individual attributed, negatively or positively, to a particular feature of this culture. The evaluations varied often in the course of time, as the trend toward dissolution became clearer in the cultural life of late antiquity and a Christianity that had become more self-conscious regarded as less serious the dangers threatening it from there.

The content of profane literature of antiquity was for the most part repudiated; the mythology that dominated it was rejected as immoral, and occasionally ridiculed, and the style of some authors was denounced as frivolous. But not quite every educational value was denied it. Thus Basil wanted to retain the study of Greek literature in the education of youth, presupposing that a proper selection was made of it and there was a clarification of its moral quality. Gregory Nazianzen expressed himself even more positively: he thought that since, according to the Apostle Paul (2 Cor. 10:5), one should take all thought into the service of what is Christ's, the knowledge of profane literature could also lead to the strengthening of the faith. Ambrose saw that the works of pagan authors should be considered so that their errors could be refuted, but he attributed a proper value to some of their philosophers also. Jerome, on the contrary, usually expressed himself negatively, but he had to endure the charge by Rufinus that his facile repudiation of profane literature was opposed to his practice, since he constantly quoted its authors and in the monastery at Bethlehem read "his Virgil" and other pagan poets and historians with the young. Augustine himself indi cated the development which his view in this question had gone through. His baptism was not, despite all the existential seriousness of his conversion, an absolute repudiation of everything that ancient cul ture had formerly meant to him, but the beginning of a critical process which only ended in his years as a bishop. Certainly, already at Cas- siciacum, he gave up the vanitas litteraria of rhetoric and rejected the curiositas, the eagerness to know the new for its own sake, to which he had once succumbed. But ancient authors such as Cicero and Virgil still meant much to him; for his literary creations he retained the dialogue form and the stylistic laws of rhetoric, and his program of religious and philosophical studies was oriented to the old artes liberates.92, Augustine the pastor only completed the real break with ancient culture when in his day-to-day activity for souls he believed he experienced not only their insignificance for his work but even more he noticed their imped ing effect on the final serious acceptance of the gospel by the faithful. Now his judgment on the formalism of rhetoric and the striving for oratorical elegance became coolly repudiating and his blaming of the immorality of this literature, whose effects he ever more encountered, became unrelenting. He avoided the coarsely massive invective which others used, because he had recognized that, like the culture that sup ported it, it was also destined for collapse. Corresponding to this was his almost sober outline of a properly defined course of education, which was conceived, it is true, primarily for the education of the clergy, but which he hardly would have presented differently for the Christian laity. According to the De doctrina Christiana, the study of the Bible, based on the faith, is the unum necessarium for the spiritual work of the cleric; from the program of a profane education great importance belongs to the sciences, such as geography, history, natural science, and so forth, since they promote a better understanding of Scripture. A small circle, which possesses the compulsion and inclination for a vita contemplativa in the Christian understanding may pursue philosophical studies fur ther. The final reason for Augustine's radical repudiation of profane culture is the knowledge, gained through personal experience, of the exclusive worth of the summum bonum, which more and more filled him with that deep skepticism in regard to everything that must be ascribed "to this world."

Augustine's theses certainly had their effects in the circles and rela tionships which he could directly influence. With all his distrust of the profane educational system of the day, still he, like the rest of the Fathers, did not require a properly Christian school in which his pro gram could have been realized. The children of Christians continued to go to the secular schools, the youth continued to attend the higher academies, at which for a long time yet the pagan teachers were in the majority, and they were still on familiar terms with pagan education. The Church hoped that the religious instruction in the family, as Basil and Chrysostom recommended it, would make it immune to the danger here threatening and that the gradually increasing number of Christian teachers in the schools would help to neutralize pagan influence in the framework of the instruction. Also lacking were all indications that the Church would have sought to gain at the State's expense influence on the form of the instructional program of the secular schools. Even in ecclesiastical legislation its attitude of aloofness vis-a-vis profane educa tion found only slight expression.

Thus it is not surprising that all important authors of the Church of this period made the formal influence of their profane education evi dent. Gregory Nazianzen could never hide his pride in his rhetorical training, Gregory of Nyssa was to a great degree dependent on it, Ambrose handled the literary genre of the consolatio in his funeral ser mons just like a profane author, and the confrontation with his pagan opponent Symmachus over the Altar of Victory showed him to be quite equal to the latter in dialectics. Poets such as Gregory Nazianzen, Prudentius, and Paulinus of Nola bear comparison with the contempo rary poetry, just as do Eusebius, Theodoret of Cyrrhus, Optatus of Mileve, or even Orosius with the profane historians. Christian episto lary literature had representatives in Basil, Jerome, and Augustine, who clearly left a Libanius and a Symmachus behind them. Certainly the superiority of the Christian literature of the Golden Age of the Fathers was based primarily on its content of ideas, on the freshness and power of conviction of its testimony, which knew that the future belonged to it, that in it was a new hope of awakening faith in a new-found meaning of human existence. Besides, the Latin authors could make use of a vocabulary which was at their disposal in Old Christian Latin and which gave a new life to the language of the West, threatened by a dangerous sclerosis. In the Greek-speaking Church, it is true, it had not reached the point of forming a special Greek language, because the great writers here could make use of the standard classical tongue, which, if used flexibly, was understandable even by the audience of a Chrysostom and especially embraced the reading circle, the gaining of which was of ever greater importance to the Church. The total impact of this Christian literature on the society of the time would not have been possible without this recourse to the formal elements of the classical tradition.

In regard to a further sector of the cultural life of late antiquity the Church's attitude remained consistently implacableЧthat of the thea ter, the circus games, and the system of entertainment. The perfor mance of the ancient tragedies had, from the Hellenistic Age, been supplanted by mime and pantomime, the stage with cabaret and ballet now served for the relaxation of the people, the fights of gladiators and hunting of animals in the amphitheatres, chariot-racing in the circus of the big cities, on the numerous festivals of the year attracted thousands of often fanatically enthusiastic spectators." Chrysostom and Augustine complained strongly that on days of such entertainments the churches remained almost empty. The Church's criticism was directed against the waste of vast sums, which the arranging of the games required, but even more against the immorality which was propagated by the stage. To some degree the fight against gladiatorial combats was successful, since, because of their brutality and brutalizing effect, they were also objected to by pagans. As early as 325 Constantine I had had them forbidden in the eastern part of the Empire, but in the West, according to Augustine's testimony, they still enjoyed the greatest popularity until the Emperor Honorius definitively had them stopped here too at the beginning of the fifth century. At first the State did not attack the other forms, stage and circus, especially since a great part of the games was built into the official calendar of festivals. The ecclesiastical mis sion and preaching were, however, firmly convinced that here lay a substantial hindrance for the spreading and appreciation of Christian moral doctrine. In its opposition it went even to the extent of outlawing all professions which were in the service of the theater and of the contemporary entertainment industry. Not only prostitutes and pimps, but also actors of every sort, the organizers of the performances, gladiators and hunters in the pursuit of animals fell under the verdict. Augustine could appeal to ancient Roman tradition, which did not reck on the profession of actor among those socially recognized. Hence the performer had to give up his profession if he wanted to be admitted to baptism, and Communion was denied to Christians among them. The Emperors Gratian and Theodosius I supported the Church in so far as they wanted to remove Christian women from these professions, sought to stop the training of zither-players, and forbade their appear ance at theatrical presentations or private celebrations.

Christian preachers of morals had to recognize that in this field a thoroughgoing success would be denied them unless they managed to eliminate the many profane feastdays with which the ludi circenses and ludi scaenici were connected or to neutralize their character, that is, to christianize the profane festive calendar and gradually replace it with a purely Christian one. The enormous difficulties of this project could not be mastered without the direct assistance of the Emperors. But the latter had to take into consideration the great popularity of the ludi of every sort with the masses, whose awareness of the pagan origin of such entertainment of the people was, moreover, very much missing. A series of feasts could be decontaminated by dropping the names of the pagan gods and the sacrifices which had been connected with them, as was done c. 357 by a decree of the Emperor Constantius II. The Church could hardly object to the feastdays on which the Emperor's or his ancestors' accession to the throne was commemorated, and hence in these cases the games continued. The designation of the Christian Sun day as a day of rest, ordered by Constantine I and later repeated, was a first step on the road to a christianized calendar of feasts. Then in 389 the Emperor Theodosius I in a decree published an arrangement of feastdays in which the Christian days of celebration already predomi nated over a series of neutral feasts, such as the birthdays of Emperors, harvest feasts, and so forth: all Sundays and the two weeks before and after Easter, Epiphany, and Christmas were here recognized by the State as Christian festival times, and the previous pagan feasts were no longer included in it. It was a further concession to the Church that the same Emperor also forbade the circus contests on Sundays, but, of course, only if the "Emperor's birthday" did not fall on a Sunday. And so only a half-success was on the whole gained by the Church here. The circus continued to maintain its fascination, especially in the East, at Constan tinople, Antioch, and Thessalonica. Further progress could be expected only from a purely liturgical calendar of feasts.

If one should still ask, at the end of this presentation, what changes were accomplished in the society of late antiquity in the period between

Nicaea and Chalcedon from the aspect of Church history, the answer can be summarized roughly thus: the fundamental fact is the change in religious confession, by which this society moved from a pagan to a Christian majority. In this Christian majority two groups became so cially relevant: the clergy, graded according to rank and sphere of func tion, and monasticism, which appeared as special states and exercised a powerful impact on society. Then, beside them were changing groups, which developed in the violent confrontations over the correct under standing of the content of the Christian faith, covering this whole pe riod, and at times led to the formation of Christian sects. Out of this struggle over "orthodoxy" grew that serious hardening and establishing of religious intolerance, which marked this society as a whole and which is passed on as a legacy to the future. No group could allow the others the right to their own respective understanding of the faith; for the "orthodox," Arians, Donatists, Macedonians, and Monophysites, those belonging at the time to the other groups became heretics, whom people sought to combat with the aid of the State and also to curtail their civil rights. The victorious group was only more bitterly charged by the defeated with the flaw of erroneous belief, violence, and injus tice.

This now Christian society did not aspire to alter anything in the basic organization of the State, and could alter very little in the economic and social structure. In some areas, such as that of the family, of the estima tion of marriage and of the child, of the status of the slave, of the understanding of property, and of charitable concern, positive begin nings were created, at times with the modest support of the State. It is difficult to appraise the change in the moral conduct of this society. The moral preaching of the time leaves no doubt that here there was no radical modification. Only a minority, strong though it was, seems to have taken Christian ethics seriously in a genuine commitment. But the sources still indicate a change which did not call attention to itself very spectacularly: this was the gradual, quiet infiltration of Christian images, ideas, and subjects, which came from the world of the Bible and slowly altered daily speech; it was the becoming accustomed, still in progress, to Christian standards of value and ways of behaving, which preaching sought tirelessly to communicate. In some areas, not merely to be un derstood spatially, the Church was still in a missionary situation: the span of 125 years between Nicaea and Chalcedon was still the time of sowing rather than of the harvest.